Hi. I’m so sorry for not posting for days! It’s just I was staying off tumblr because I only watched the Season 9 finale last night.
On another note, OMIGOSH!!!!!!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY WENT THERE!!!!!!! That episode broke my heart and I’m so crushed and freaked out right now and I have no idea where they’re going to go in Season 10. But I did like the episode.
Anyway, back to the writing. I hope you like it. It’s my first Kevin!
~~~~~
You frowned down at the creases in your shirt, thinking that next time you should iron it before putting it on, or at least hang it up instead of dumping it at the bottom of your closet. As you headed towards the bunker’s library, you could hear the scratching of a pen on paper, and the sound of a coffee cup being slammed down onto a desk.
Peeking around the corner, you saw Kevin slumped over the Angel Tablet, his hair a mess and his eyes bruised by the iron fist of exhaustion. You shook your head at him. “You’re already up?” you asked in disbelief, leaning against the door frame.
“Never went to sleep,” he muttered, not even glancing up at you. You inhaled a sharp breath, striding over to the desk where he sat immersed in his work. Noticing the dregs at the bottom of the mug, you asked, “How many refills of this have you had?”
“A lot,” he admitted.
“Jesus, Kevin! You know that isn’t good for you! And neither is staying awake all night, for that matter. When was the last time you actually slept?” He lowered his pen, frowning as he considered your question.
“Uh…I think I dozed off for about ten minutes at around 4am.” You gasped, taking the tablet away from him.
“That’s it. You’re having a break. Right now.”
“But I need to decode this!” he argued. “Sam and Dean need me!”
“You won’t be much good to them if you die from exhaustion!” you yell. Immediately, you regret your harsh tone. After all, he was just trying to do the right thing. “Look, Kevin,” you continued, softening your tone, “I get that you’re trying to save the world and all that. But you need to take care of yourself too. And right now, that needs to be your top priority.”
“But -”
“No buts,” you interrupted. “Now let’s get you to bed. You need sleep.” You looped your arm around him, pulling him against you to support him as you walked him away from the desk. “Wow. You must have had a hell of a lot of caffeine. I can feel your heart racing from here,” you commented.
“That isn’t the caffeine,” he murmured, his face flushing a shade darker. You turned away, laughing nervously and feeling your own face heat up in response.
“You’re only saying that because you haven’t slept in a while,” you muttered, picking at a lose thread at the hem of your shirt.
“I’d say it even if I’d just woken up from hibernation,” he answered, his voice clear and steady. You would’ve thought he was completely confident, if it weren’t for the fact that you looked up and saw that his eyes held uncertainty.
“Don’t mess with me,” you whispered, mirroring his nervousness. If this was some kind of twisted joke, it would be like he’d ripped your heart out. As if you were back at school, and one of the popular kids had told you that you looked nice, before laughing about it with their friends as though they’d just told the funniest joke in the history of language itself.
“Y/N,” he murmured, resting his hand against your cheek, “I would never mess with you like this. What I said was true. You make my heart race, more so than any amount of caffeine I’ve had before. Because you’re beautiful, and kind and just all round awesome. And that isn’t just the sleep deprivation talking. Trust me.”
You smiled, hearing the truth in his tone, and seeing it in his earnest expression. “You’re awesome, too. I’ve kind of always thought that.” Kevin smiled back, understanding what you were saying without you having to say it. “But you really should go to bed now. We can talk about this when you aren’t about to pass out.”
“It’ll be like waking up from a dream right into another.” You laughed.
“This isn’t going to work if you’re going to be cheesy about it,” you told him, to which he grinned. “Now come on. Let’s go.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I noticed that when people ask for something fluffy, I tend to write romantic kind of stuff. Is that what you guys want? Because if not, feel free to let me know. I’d love to know what you think.
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. Thank you! I’m sorry this took so long. The past few weeks have been quite busy. But I hope you like it!
~~~~~
It was only supposed to be a routine hunt. Drive out to the nest, gank the vampires, return to the bunker. It was simple, standard. You, Sam and Dean had gone through this routine hundreds of times before, and this time was no different. Until it was.
It all happened so fast. One moment, the three of you were fighting, turning around and slashing at the vamps with blades. They had growled, their hisses filling the air. Sweat had been trickling down your back, but you had kept fighting, and you could see that Sam and Dean had been doing the same.
You had killed the last vampire, and turned around to grin at Sam and Dean, high off your success. And that’s when it happened. A final vampire, previously unseen, had leapt out, tearing a large chunk out of Dean’s neck. He fell, almost in slow motion. You blinked, but it didn’t go away. He was still falling, falling. Falling.
Sam beheaded the final vampire, but it was too late. The damage was done. And now Sam was crouched over Dean, holding a wad of fabric torn from his shirt against Dean’s wound. He looked to you for help, but you couldn’t focus on his words. Couldn’t focus on anything, not while your mind was trying to leap over this obstacle. This couldn’t be happening. Not to Dean.
You raced over to him, pulling his limp body into your arms and taking over Sam’s job of trying to staunch the bleeding. “Dean? Dean!” You shook him lightly, afraid of injuring him even further. He didn’t respond, and your heart rate sped up, fearing the worst. He couldn’t be gone, not when you hadn’t told him how you felt. But after a moment, his eyes fluttered open.
“Y/N?” His voice was weak, and you could hear a faint gargling noise as the words came out. As much as you hated to admit it, you knew he didn’t have much time left.
“Yeah, it’s me,” you whispered. “And Sammy’s here too.” Sam shifted so that he was in Dean’s line of sight and rested one hand on Dean’s arm, and the other on yours.
“Hey, we’re going to get you sorted out, okay? Everything’s going to be okay.” You could hear the crack in Sam’s voice, could see the pain etched into the lines on his face, the hopelessness weighing on his shoulders. He stood up and moved away. At first you thought he was trying to compose himself, but then you heard him muttering under his breath and realised he was praying to Cas. You looked down at Dean.
“You’ve just got to hang on, okay? Because Sam needs you and-and so do I. Dean…I love you,” you choked out. You gazed into his green eyes, the ones you loved so much. They were cloudy, unfocused, but clung to yours with every ounce of strength they had. You could see Dean fighting to respond, but he just couldn’t. He was too far gone. “Hey, it’s okay,” you comforted. But your voice broke as you said it, and as much as you had been trying to appear strong for him, you just couldn’t do it anymore. “Please don’t go,” you wailed. Tears raced down your cheeks, spattering Dean’s bloody shirt. You broke down right there, with him dying in your arms. Yet the whole time, Dean’s eyes stayed with yours, and you could see it was killing him to see you like this.
His eyes started to flutter shut and you screamed his name, urging him to stay awake for you, just for a little longer. You didn’t know why. If Cas hadn’t answered Sam by now, he wasn’t going to. But somehow, you just couldn’t let Dean go just yet.
Suddenly, you became aware of the beating sound of wings. At first, you couldn’t place the sound, but then a figure stepped into your peripheral vision. A figure wearing a tan trenchcoat over the top of a suit. Castiel stepped forward, placing his hand to Dean’s neck and healing him. You watched on in amazement as the wound began to close up and Dean’s shallow breathing got a little deeper.
You looked up at Cas. “Thank you,” you murmured. In all the time you’d known him, you’d never loved the angel as much as you did in that moment. Feeling Dean stir in your arms, you quickly shifted your gaze back to him. “Dean?”
“Y/N,” he murmured, gazing up at you with eyes that were no longer cloudy.
“Let’s give them a moment,” you heard Sam say to Castiel. You felt bad for a moment. Sam was Dean’s brother - he should be the one kneeling beside Dean. At the same time though, you felt grateful. Sam knew what had just passed between the two of you, and was giving you a moment between yourselves.
“You had me worried for a minute there, Winchester,” you joked, your laugh coming out shaky. He ignored your attempt at lightening the mood, instead fixing you with an intense stare.
“Did you mean it?” he asked. “What you said? Or were you just saying it because I was dying?” You looked at him, at the nervous twitch in his jaw, at the vulnerability in his eyes.
“I meant every word,” you replied. A grin spread across Dean’s face, causing him to wince slightly with the pain from his still-healing wound.
“Good thing,” he said. “Because I’m in love with you, too.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.

Hi! I’m so, so, so, so sorry this took so long to write! It’s just, at first, I didn’t realise what you meant, so I saved it in notes. And then when I did realise, I was working in something else but then I completely forgot about it! So yeah, I’m really sorry.
And also, I hope I was right in my interpretation of your request. But regardless, I hope you like it.
~~~~~
Your foot kept up a rhythmic tapping against the legs of your chair as you flipped through a book of lore. With your head propped up by your hand, you blew out a puff of air, the words on the page blurring together before your eyes. Ever since Cas had gone, the fun had gone out of hunting. That’s not to say it was very much fun normally, but now there was nothing to joke about, no laughing and teasing as you researched. Purgatory had changed Dean, and meeting Amelia had changed Sam. And of course, losing Castiel, your boyfriend of several months, had changed you.
He was gone now, and you weren’t going to see him again. You weren’t going to see his smile, or feel his arms around you, or hear the beating of his wings as he appeared in the room, startling everyone by appearing right behind them. You wouldn’t get to see his confused squint again, or make it go away by explaining something.
“Y/N?” You looked up to find Dean hovering nervously over you, having come into your room from his own. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he couldn’t meet your eyes. “I…I have something to tell you.”
“What’s up?” Even you could hear the dullness in your voice, could feel the absence of laughter. Dean glanced at you and you could see pity etched on his face, along with an immense sadness. You didn’t want him to feel sorry for you, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel nervous about whatever he was going to say. As a rule, none of you discussed the past year if you didn’t have to, so whatever Dean didn’t want to say was obviously important.
“Y/N, there’s something you need to know.” You nodded, irritated at his hesitancy. He needed to just say it and get it over with. Dean took a deep breath, before launching into speech. “Well…I’ve been seeing him. Cas, I mean. At first I thought that I was imagining it, but now…”
You sucked in a breath, almost forgetting to release it again. “You what? Are you saying you think he’s back?”
Dean shook his head. “More than think. I know.” You blinked, your eyebrows drawing together.
“But I thought you said he died when you tried to get out of Purgatory,” you said slowly, twisting to look up at him. “Dean,” you said in a warning tone when he didn’t respond. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I lied, okay?” he exclaimed after a few moments of silence. You shot to your feet.
“What?” Your eyes searched his face, seeing the truth that lay there. “Why?” you whispered, your voice coming from far away. Cas. That was all you could think of.
“Because I didn’t want you to know the truth,” Dean answered.
“What truth? Dean, what’s going on?” you demanded. He looked at you sadly for a minute, almost as if he was trying to work out how to break his news to you.
“Y/N, Cas didn’t want to come back.” You sunk back down into your chair, grabbing onto the back of it, clutching it like a lifeline. It didn’t make sense. Cas, your Cas. He couldn’t have just left you. Dean must’ve made a mistake. Castiel would’ve done anything to make it back, to see you again. Your face must’ve broadcast each of these thoughts, because Dean continued. “I tried, Y/N. We were supposed to make it out together. But at the last minute…he let go.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. But it’s true,” Dean said gently. “But he’s here now. He’s just gone to get cleaned up.”
“Why didn’t he come to see me?”
“I don’t know,” Dean murmured.
“No,” you repeated, desperate carved into your chest. “He wouldn’t do this. He would’ve come straight back. He would’ve wanted to see me again.” Dean stayed silent, watching you with sorrow.
Something in you snapped, as if the thread tying your heart together had come undone. After thinking Cas was gone forever, you’d finally found out that you might get to see him again, only to find out that he apparently had a different agenda. “I need to get out of here.”
“Hey, hey. What are you doing?” Dean asked, reaching out to stop you as you grabbed your duffel bag and began shoving things into it.
“I need to get out, Dean. I need to think some things through.” You caught a glimpse of his worried expression, and your own face softened. “I’ll come back, Dean. And I’ll be careful. I promise. I just need a bit of time on my own. This is…it’s a lot to get my head around.” He nodded, dropping his hand to allow you to continue.
Around 10 minutes later, you were heading out the door. You paused for a moment with your hand on the doorframe, and you turned back to Dean. “Goodbye.” You walked away before he replied, wiping away the stray tears that had managed to escape. You just wished that your goodbye hadn’t sounded so final.
——
You’d been on your own for three days, staying in some crummy motel in a small town. Although you stood out amongst the locals, you figured no one would come looking for you here.
But then you heard the fluttering of wings and you spun around, grabbing your angel blade off the bed as you prepared to fight whoever it was who had come looking for you. But you realised that the eyes in front of you were not cold and calculating, rather they were a deep blue, the kind of blue you could get lost in. You took in the dark hair, the worn lines of the angel’s face. And finally - the trenchcoat. The blade dropped from your hands. “Castiel?”
“Y/N.” He took two steps towards you, pulling you tightly against him. Burying your head against his collarbone, you began to sob. Until now, you hadn’t realised how much grief you’d been carrying. But now that the relief was hitting you, you realised just how dark the past year had been for you.
“How?” It was a simple question, but all that was needed. You pulled away from him, drinking in every line of his face, tracing over the planes of his features with a delicate finger.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “But that’s not important. What matters is that I’m here, with you.” You let your hand fall away from his face, stepping back as if you’d been shocked. “What is it? Have I done something wrong?” he asked in concern.
You clenched your fist, holding back from slapping him. “Are you actually asking me that?” You laughed bitterly before continuing. “You know, I was so glad to see you again that I completely forgot what happened a few days back. You see, Dean came over to me and told me that not only did you choose to stay in Purgatory, but you also didn’t come over to see me when you got back. Instead, you went and took a shower.” Your voice dropped. “Cas, I’ve wanted to see you again for so long. I thought you were gone forever. Do you realise how much it killed me to find out that while I was overjoyed at the thought of having you back, you didn’t even want to say hi?”
“Y/N, it wasn’t like that,” Castiel insisted, reaching out for you.
You shrugged his arm off. “Then what was it like?” He dropped his gaze, shuffling his feet awkwardly.
“I did a lot of bad things before I went to Purgatory. I was the reason Dean and I were able to go there in the first place. I couldn’t face you after that. I couldn’t stand to see you look at me, knowing all the terrible things I caused. And I guess…I guess I stayed in Purgatory because I felt as though I deserved it, that I had to stay there as a penance of sorts.”
“Cas,” you murmured. When he didn’t look up, you tilted his head up so that he was looking straight at you. “Cas,” you repeated, a little firmer this time. “There is no mistake you can make that I won’t forgive you for. And that’s what this was - a mistake. Sure, it was a pretty big one,” you conceded, “but you’re still you. And I love you, mistakes and all.”
“Do you really mean that?” he asked hesitantly. You brushed a kiss against his lips.
“Yes, Cas. I really do.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! It’s not my best, because I misread something and then I had to rewrite part of it, and it’s getting late so I just wanted to post it. And I’m really sorry for the lack of updates lately. I had a geography test today and I have to learn two sets of lines, as well as work on several assignments. But I’ll hopefully write some more over the next few days.
AND DID YOU GUYS HEAR?? MISHA COLLINS IS CONFIRMED FOR SEASON 10!!!!!!
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. Sorry for the wait! This definitely wasn’t one of my best works, but I think my description and imagery are getting a little better, at least.
I hope you like it!
~~~~~
You stood beneath the shower head, the water running in rivulets down your skin. The steam was filling up the bathroom, rising up from your body. You hummed to yourself as you massaged the shampoo into your scalp, before rinsing your hair out and moving on to the conditioner.
When it had all been washed from your hair, you stuck out your hand to turn off the tap. The steady stream of water stopped and you stepped out of the shower, shivering at the sudden change in temperature. You grabbed the towel off the rack, rubbing it over yourself to dry off. When most of the droplets had disappeared from your skin, you wrapped it around you, tucking in the end so that it wouldn’t come undone.
“Damn,” you muttered, rummaging through the cabinets. You couldn’t find your lotion anywhere and you realised too late that you had run out just yesterday, and the new bottle you had bought was still sitting on the kitchen table with the rest of the shopping that was yet to be put away.
Switching off the light, you padded out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. Sam and Dean were out, so you weren’t worried about anyone seeing you. By the time you had retrieved your lotion, you couldn’t be bothered to head back to the bathroom, so you plonked yourself down on one of the chairs and decided to do it there.
You were just rubbing some of the cream onto your leg when you heard a door slam, followed by voices and footsteps coming down the stairs. You froze, but before you had a chance to go anywhere, the boys entered the room.
“Hey-” Sam began, stopping abruptly when he saw what you were doing. Beside him, Dean had also come to a halt, and both boys were shifting their gazes around the room, looking at anything but you. Sam cleared his throat. “Well, uh, we’re back.”
“That’s for that, Captain Obvious,” you answered, trying to hide your embarrassment as you straightened the towel around you to make sure it covered everything.
“So…why are you…you know,” Dean stuttered, clearly at a loss for words.
“Putting on lotion in the kitchen?” you asked. When he nodded, you continued. “I just had a shower and I’d left it in here. I figured that since you guys weren’t home…”
“Right. Sorry about barging in,” Sam apologised hastily. His cheeks were still a bit pink, and he was clearly mortified. Not that he was the only one, of course.
“You know what?” You stood up, grabbing the bottle of lotion, the bane of your existence at the present moment. “I’m just gonna to go finish this in my bedroom. Maybe put some clothes on while I’m at it,” you added as an afterthought. You pushed past them, scurrying towards your room. As you went, you could feel their eyes on you, but they quickly shifted their eyes away when you glanced back at them.
When you finally shut your bedroom door, you leaned against the back of it and let out a sigh. When they had gotten over their embarrassment, they were never going to let you live this down.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Sorry for the lack of posts these past few days. I’ve been really busy with schoolwork.
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hey. Thank you! I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope you like it.
~~~~~
You felt your body saunter into the room, your hands covering Dean’s eyes from behind. “Guess who,” you heard your voice croon.
“I know it’s you, Y/N,” Dean smiled, leaning into you. You moved in closer so that your lips brushed against his ear.
“Guess again.” Dean tensed, the smile dropping from his face. He spun around, pinning you against the wall with his arm against your throat.
“You’re a demon,” he spat. His arm tightened against your throat, cutting into your air supply. Despite the anger in Dean’s expression, you could still see the hurt in his eyes. It tugged at your heart, making you that much more desperate to regain control of your body, to show the demon who was boss.
You had never been possessed before. Your tattoo had ensured that. But tonight, you had gone for a walk when you had been tackled to the ground, a knife slashing across your tattoo, making the lines incomplete. The black smoke had poured into your mouth, the body of the demon’s previous meat suit falling to the ground. You had come to this town to hunt the demons but instead, they’d hunted you.
“My, my, you’re not just a pretty face,” the demon inside you murmured. “I must say, when we first found out you were looking into us, everyone just laughed. But not me, though. I knew you’d crack onto us eventually.”
“I’m so glad to have lived up to your expectations,” Dean answered sarcastically. “What have you done with Y/N?”
“I wouldn’t worry, Dean. She’s still in here,” the demon replied flippantly. “I can hear her. She misses you.” A pained look flashed across Dean’s face, quickly covered up again by a stormy anger. He grabbed your arms and propelled you across the room, pushing your body down onto the motel bed.
“Dean, I’m flattered!” the demon said in a sultry tone. “But don’t forget that we aren’t alone. How do you think Y/N feels?” You were fuming, and the demon knew it. You could feel her satisfaction, could sense that she was gloating at your anger. But there was nothing you could do. Right now, she was the captain of this ship.
“I think she feels pretty pleased right now.” At the demon’s confusion, Dean smirked. “I drew a Devil’s Trap under the bed while she was gone. I like to take precautions.” You felt the demon’s amusement fade, a murderous rage filling her.
“You asshole,” she hissed, the sound of it inhuman.
“Yes, well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself,” he pointed out. “Now, let’s get back to the important business, shall we? I want to know where your little group has set up base. You’re going to tell me every single detail of your plan.”
“Am I?” Dean simply stared back stonily, refusing to dignify the demon’s remark with a response. “Well, if you want me to tell you anything, you’ll have to make me.” Your body had raised for the last part of that sentence, the demon getting right in Dean’s face before whispering those words in a darkly flirtatious tone.
Dean’s eyes seem to dim slightly, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He reached for his knife, holding it against your arm. But you could tell that he couldn’t do it, and the demon knew it too. “Something wrong, Dean?” she asked innocently. He gritted his teeth, clutching the knife tighter. You fought hard, gathering all your strength to break free from the demon’s control, even if just for a second. You had to tell Dean to go through with this. The information was vital, and you couldn’t get it yourself because the demon was shielding those thoughts from you, surrounding them with an impenetrable barrier.
“Dean,” you whispered. You felt your eyes return to normal, the blackness temporarily fleeing from them. “You have to do it. We need to stop them.” His face softened, a tormented look in his eyes.
“Y/N…I can’t…” You lost control, his brokenness shattering your heart and draining the fight from you. But he had received the message - now it was a matter of whether or not he would listen to it.
“Oh, Dean,” the demon taunted as your eyes flicked back to black. His face fell as he realised you had lost the battle for control, that you were tucked back inside. You were a puppet, and the demon was pulling the strings. “Haven’t you heard? Love is a weakness.” Dean’s face hardened at these words, determination taking over his features.
“No, it isn’t. It’s a strength.” He dropped the knife, and you felt elation swell inside the demon. She thought she had cracked Dean. But then he opened his mouth again. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio,” he chanted. Inside you, the demon grew furious and your body started jerking. “Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte et sectio.” As he continued, you felt the demon’s control start to slip and your own strength increased. You began to fight through the pain, fighting to help Dean expel the demon. “Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica. Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos!” Your head shot back, the black smoke pouring from your mouth and back to where it belonged. Your body flopped back down on the bed and you coughed, your body shaky from the ordeal.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” Dean asked, rushing to kneel beside you.
“You…you were supposed to get the info,” you told him softly, your voice lacking conviction due to the weakness in your body.
“I couldn’t do it,” he choked out, brushing your hair across your forehead.
“Why?” you asked. Dean didn’t answer, instead looking around the room to avoid your eyes. “Was she right? About why you stopped? Do you love me?” Your voice was quiet, timid. The two of you had been a couple for a few months now, but never had either of you professed such strong feelings for one another. And as much as you wanted to know his answer, you knew it had the power to either make or break your relationship.
Dean’s gaze finally shifted from the bedside table to you, his green eyes holding yours. “Y/N, after all we’ve been through, how could you ever think otherwise?” A soft smile spread across your features and you leaned up to press your lips against Dean. Your mouth moved against his, and you smiled into the kiss.
“I love you, too,” you murmured against his lips.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading. I’m not really sure about this one, but I did my best.
Please don’t repost without giving credit!
Hi. Thank you! I’m sorry that the ending is a bit rushed, but I’m exhausted and I wanted to get this posted before going to bed.
~~~~~
You sat down heavily on the lid of the toilet, your head between your legs as you tried to calm down your breathing. A stick was clenched in your hand, burning into you as the full implications of it dawned on you. Because on that stick were two little lines.
You were pregnant.
For many woman, this was the kind of thing that induced squealing, that promoted shopping lists to be made and shopping trolleys to be filled with nappies and toys and onesies. But for you, it meant stress and nerves and danger. How were you supposed to raise a child as a hunter? How were you supposed to cover the expenses that came with having a whole new person to take care of? And most importantly…how would Dean react? You had never talked about having kids. It just seemed a given that you wouldn’t, considering the lives that you led. You had seen him with kids; you knew he would make an incredible father. But you also knew that he thought the hunting life was no place to raise a child.
You never thought you’d be in this position. The two of you had always made sure to use protection. So when you’d woken up feeling sick a few weeks ago, you hadn’t thought much of it. You ate a lot of take out, and you just assumed that some of it had been off. But then the vomiting had continued for the next few mornings, and you wondered if you might’ve caught a bug. But it was when you realised you were late that you had started to think that what was wrong with you might not be something that a couple of days of bed rest could fix.
And so you’d offered to run to the shops for a supply run a couple of days ago, slipping a pregnancy test into your shopping basket. But when you got home, you didn’t have the guts to use it. The same thing had happened all yesterday. Today, however, you knew that you couldn’t put it off any longer. If the test said negative, you could stop stressing and pretend that none of this ever happened. But the test had said positive, and now you had a whole lot more to think about.
“Y/N?” Dean called, rapping his knuckles against the outside of the door. “You’ve been in there a while. Is everything alright?”
“I…no,” you whispered, a single tear escaping from the corner of your eye and slipping down your cheek, forming a dark patch on the collar of your jumper.
“Do you think you could let me in?” Dean asked, his voice laced with concern. Silently, you reached out to unlock the door, allowing him to step around the doorframe. When he saw the position you were in, he immediately knelt down in front of you, pulling you into his embrace. “Hey, shh, it’s okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Don’t be mad,” you pleaded. He frowned back at you in confusion, his eyes searching your face for an explanation. But instead of providing one, you slipped the pregnancy test into his hand, hoping that he would work out the rest for himself.
“Is this… Are you pregnant?” he questioned. You nodded, not daring to look at him for fear of his reaction. You felt his finger hook under your chin and he tipped your head up so that you were face to face. “This is incredible,” he murmured, his face breaking out into the biggest grin you’d ever seen on him. “Just wait until I tell Sammy. I’m gonna be a dad!”
You laughed shakily, confused by his response. “So you aren’t angry?”
“Why would I be angry?” he asked in bewilderment.
“Because I know that we’ve never talked about it and we’re hunters and this is so not the kind of life you should raise a child in and I know how you feel about all that and -”
“Hey,” he said, cutting off your rambling. “That doesn’t matter. None of that matters. We’re going to make this work, okay?” he promised. “Because I love you, and I love our baby. And you, me and Sammy are going to find a way.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
I’ll probably write some stuff up tonight and hopefully, if I stop procrastinating, requests should be cleared out in about 2 weeks.
I know I said it not that long ago, but requests are really starting to pile up. So I’m going to be closing the ask box soon (in just over 12 hours). If you have any requests, send them to me now so that they will be done!
I’m hoping to clear it out within a couple of weeks, but I guess we’ll have to see how it goes. But I will let you know when requests are open again!



I had a few requests for a Part 2 to an imagine I wrote yesterday, so I wrote one, trying to fit in all the things you guys suggested for it. I’m really glad you guys liked the first one so much!
LINK TO PART ONE: http://imagines-supernatural.tumblr.com/post/84220821934/can-you-do-imagine-the-reader-finding-out-deans-been~~~~~
“Thanks,” you muttered, slamming the door of the pick up truck shut. The driver was the fifth person to give you a lift back to the bunker, each person only able to take you a short distance before their lives carried them in another direction. But now you were almost home, and as you hitched your duffel bag up onto your shoulder, you began the long walk which would take you to the door of the bunker.
As you trudged along, the occasional autumn leaf crunching underfoot, you thought about Dean. You knew that he was the kind of guy to have a lot of one night stands, but you thought that all that had been before you. You thought that what you had was different, and he had led you to believe that he felt the same way. But maybe you had just misread the signs, searching so hard for something that you willed it into existence.
You let yourself into the bunker, your feet thumping down the stairs. “Hey,” Sam called out, coming into view. “Where’s Dean?” The colour drained from your face and you shook your head slowly, locking your eyes onto Sam as if he was the only thing holding you above water. He noticed your mood, the way you held yourself, and his expression turned fiercely protective. “What did he do?”
“I didn’t quite catch her name,” you answered bitterly, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“That asshole!” he exclaimed. He strode towards you, holding you up as you collapsed into him. Your body shook and he didn’t comment on your tears, although it was impossible for him not to notice. He simply held you tighter, slowly rocking you back and forth. “Did you want to talk about it?” Your head was tucked up against his chest, and his words were muffled. Shaking your head, you burrowed deeper into the flannel of his shirt.
The two of you stood there like that for several minutes, Sam anchoring you and providing a solid foundation to hold you up. But the peace you had found was interrupted by a loud bang as the door was flung open. You spun around, bracing yourself for an attack, but slumped again as you realised what had caused the ruckus. Dean.
“What are you doing here?” you whispered, your voice almost drowned out by the sounds of his feet clattering down the steps. He began to make his way towards you but you shrank back, tucking yourself into the arm Sam wrapped around you. Dean stopped, his expression pained at the obvious mistrust you had in him.
“Please. Just hear me out,” he begged as Sam’s gripped tightened on you. He started to tell Dean to get out, but you cut him off.
“Do you think you could give us a minute?” you asked quietly. At his look of protest, you held your ground, giving him a look that conveyed your determination to speak with Dean. You had to tell him it was over, that there was no going back from this. And you knew that this particular conversation was one Sam couldn’t be present for. As he walked off, you turned back to Dean. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I left almost as soon as you stormed out.” You frowned up at him in confusion, unsure as to why he’d do such a thing.
“Why? You seemed pretty busy to me,” you said bitterly, a dark look crossing your face at the memory.
“Y/N, I was never gonna let you go without putting up a fight,” he said earnestly, his eyes pleading with you to understand him, to forgive him.
“You didn’t let me go. You pushed me away,” you told him, shutting your eyes for a moment to will back the tears that were building up.
“I know,” he agreed. “I made a mistake. And I’m so, so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself.” You lifted your eyelids, fixing him with a cutting look.
“A mistake happens once. By the sound of things, this has happened a few times.”
“Look, I’m sorry! Just give me another chance and I swear I’ll never do anything like it again,” he promised. You gazed at him dubiously, the hurt pulling at your heart, sharper and more painful then the fangs of any werewolf could ever be. He saw your doubt, and he gave it another shot, seeming to sense exactly what you needed to hear from him in order to be sure of where his loyalties lay. “Do you remember that day in the diner?” he asked, taking a step closer to you. “It was a Wednesday, just after the lunch rush was over. Sammy and I came in and you were working. And when you came over, you wrote down our order in a pink pen. I thought it was a bit weird, and you explained that you were always putting your pens down places and forgetting where they were.” He paused for a minute, searching your face for a reaction, some sign that his words were working. “I told you that of all the angels I’d met, I’d never seen one as heavenly as you. I bet you didn’t realise just how serious I was being.” You smiled in spite of yourself, thinking of the layer of truth in the words he’d first said to you so long ago.
Dean saw the crack in your hard demeanour and reached forward, carefully grasping your hands in his. When you didn’t push him away, he continued on, growing encouraged by your weakening resistance. “And we arranged to meet up that night, but I was so nervous, I almost missed it trying to pick out the right flowers for you. I don’t normally do that kind of thing, but I felt that you were something different, something special.” You glanced up in surprise, your jaw hanging slightly agape. In all the stress and fear of that night, with all the patching up and explanations that had gone on, you’d never realised that he’d bought you flowers. They must have stayed in the backseat of the Impala, left to wilt.
“You bought me flowers?” you asked in a hushed voice. He nodded.
“Yeah, I did. But I never got to give them to you,” he responded. “I was lucky enough to find you alive.” His voice cracked, and he glanced down to compose himself before continuing. “When I saw you on the ground with that monster hovering over you, I knew that I had to protect you, that I wanted to protect for years to come. And I know…I know I haven’t done such a good job of it lately, that I was the one you needed to be protected from, but I would do anything for a second chance with you. Because I love you, and I don’t think I’m ever going to want to protect anyone else as much as I want to protect you.”
You blinked back more tears. But this time, they came from a different place, one of happiness rather than sorrow. “You’d do anything?”
“Anything,” he confirmed. You thought for a moment, wanting so badly to have Dean back, but not knowing if you should grant him forgiveness.
“Alright. I…okay,” you conceded after much consideration. “We aren’t going to be back where we were. In fact, we aren’t even going to be dating straight away,” you told him. “But I want you back so badly, so if you can prove to me that I can trust you, I’ll do it. I’ll trust you again.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes filling with life at what you had just offered him. And even though this was only the start of his attempt to redeem himself, you could see his resolve, and you knew that this time, he wasn’t going to let you slip away again.
~~~~~
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Hi. OMIGOSH OMIGOSH OMIGOSH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I just listened to Arctic Monkeys for the first time EVER to write this AND THEY ARE PERFECT!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for converting me!!!
Anyway, I hope you like it!
~~~~~
You lay back on the lumpy motel mattress, the bed frame groaning in protest. Your headphones were in your ears, playing a song which somehow reminded you of Sam. Everything in your life seemed stuck at the moment. The song stuck on repeat, your thoughts stuck on Sam. And you couldn’t move on, not without knowing how he felt about you. But did you really want to know? Of course, he could return your feelings, but at the same time, you ran the risk of rejection. And so you were stuck, your whole life dependent on the answer to a question you didn’t want to ask.
A jolt to the bed sent you shaking the headphones out of your ears. You looked up to find Sam standing at the foot of your bed, nudging it with his toe. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “It’s a Friday night. Why don’t you go out and do something?’
"I’m not really into all that,” you answered, laughing off his question. Little did he know that he was the reason you didn’t go out, that you were so hung up on him you could never fall for someone else. He smiled at you, and the urge to lean up and kiss him was almost overpowering. Moments like this seemed to happen so often, and each time it felt harder to stop yourself. Because you knew that it would be the easiest way to find out his feelings. He would either kiss you back, or you could just wave it off as an experiment.
He turned to go back to his laptop and you watched him walk away, a heavy weight hanging on your heart. Deep down, you wondered if you had missed your chance with Sam. After all, not that long ago, he’d shown an interest in you, and you knew that he had been open to having a relationship with you. But you had been scared, reluctant to go out with him after hearing the failed attempts of hunters to have a normal life. And now you didn’t know if his heart was still open, but you desperately hoped that there was still time before it shut, time to gather the courage to tell him how you felt.
Every so often, when you had had a bit too much to drink, you scrolled through your contacts to find his name. But each time, you had turned off your phone before dialling, putting it away before you changed the nature of your relationship dramatically, be it for better or for worse.
You knew that your crush, your obsession, was bordering on pathetic, but had to knew whether your feelings were requited. Eventually, you were likely to find yourself asking, the cover of night providing the safety to ask the question that daylight scared away. And you were just hoping that he would choose to stay, because he was the one you kept crawling back to.
~~~~~
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Hi. I sure can! I hope you like it.
And I just wanted to say that reading over my more recent fics, I think I’ve noticed improvement from when I first started writing these. So I’m really proud of myself at the moment.
~~~~~
You ambled along the footpath towards the motel, gazing around at the night around you. The street lamps had just come on, casting a glow across the pavement. As cars sped along the highway, not far away from where you stood, you could see the flash of headlights and hear the sound of their engines.
This was a rare night off for you, a break from the constant researching and fighting that life as a hunter involved. You intended to make the most of it, not rushing anywhere, but just taking the time to relax, to take things in.
As the motel came into view, you smiled to yourself, knowing that Dean was waiting for you inside. The two of you had been dating for around five months. It had all started when you’d been working your shift at the local diner and two men had come in, who you later found out were Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean had flirted with you, causing a flush to creep along your cheekbones. He’d asked to meet you after your shift and you had agreed. After all, it had been a while since someone had shown in interest in you and he seemed like quite a nice guy.
But then he’d been running late, and you were attacked by a werewolf. It’s claws had ripped into you, it’s fangs heading straight towards your chest, saliva dripping off the sharp points. If Dean had shown up a minute later, you would’ve been dead. So you had started hunting with them, never wanting to feel the powerlessness of that night ever again.
You fitted your room key into the lock, twisting the doorknob. “Dean?” you called out, opening up the door. Before you lay a man and a woman in the bed together, passionately making out. You apologised profusely, thinking at first that you had entered the wrong room. “Wait a minute. Dean?” Your expression turned to one of horror as you realised that the man in the bed was your boyfriend, the man you loved. Who apparently didn’t care much for you in return.
“Y/N?” Dean asked, sitting up and pulling the quilt over himself and the woman. “I thought you said you would be out for a couple more hours?”
“I’m sorry, does that suddenly make it okay to sleep with someone else?” you choked out, fighting to push back the tears.
“Who’s this?” the woman asked, holding the quilt up to cover her bare chest.
“His girlfriend,” you answered bitterly, your gaze locked on Dean. An aching had spread through your chest, the betrayal a stab to your heart.
“You never told me you had a girlfriend,” she said, turning to Dean. You rolled your eyes. As if they’d had much of a chance to talk in the hour or two they’d known each other. “Is this why you cancelled on me the other night?” she continued. Your eyes widened, hysteria rising up inside you.
“What? This has happened before?” All the barriers you’d built against the tears were torn down, your emotions a hurricane whirling around inside you. The tears sprang from your eyes, streaking down your cheeks.
“Y/N, I never meant to hurt you,” Dean told you.
“Well, gr-great job on that,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around your stomach. “H-how could y-you do this to me?”
“I still love you, Y/N. You have to believe me,” he pleaded. Slowly, you shook your head at him, watching as he fell silent.
“I trusted you,” you whispered.
“You still can. I’ll make it up to you. I promise!”
“No, Dean, you won’t,” you stated hollowly. “It’s over.” His face blanched, his features losing the hope and fight they’d contained a minute ago.
“You’re leaving me?” he whispered. “But…will I ever see you again?”
“Yes,” you answered. For a moment, a spark of hope filled his eyes again, before dying out as you continued. “Sam’s a very close friend of mine. I’ll stick around to hunt with him. But if you ever talk to me again outside of business, I’ll leave forever,” you warned. Your body shook and you bit down on your lip, working hard to maintain your composure. “Because what you’ve done, Dean…there’s no making up for it.”
You picked your bag up from the ground, stuffing a few loose items inside. Dean called out for you, begging you to hear him out. But you stormed out of the room, off to hitch a ride back to the bunker. The more steps you took, the further away Dean got, and his voice soon died away. And as soon as you couldn’t hear him, you knew that it meant he wouldn’t be able to hear your anguished sobs.
~~~~~
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LINK TO PART TWO:
http://imagines-supernatural.tumblr.com/post/84318320714/i-had-a-few-requests-for-a-part-2-to-an-imagine-i
Hey. Thank you so much! I hope this is what you were after! And sorry about the wait.
I’m actually really proud of this, so I hope you like it!
~~~~~
Sobs wracked your body, your mother’s lifeless form cradled in your arms. She was just sleeping, it’d be fine. If you shook her hard enough, called her name loud enough, she’d wake up. Except she didn’t.
Standing up slowly, you gazed around your living room, ravaged by destruction. The furniture was turned over, the coffee table practically in splinters. The couch - the one you had sat on whilst watching Saturday morning cartoons, where you read on lazy Sundays, the place where your mother had looked after you when you were sick - was completely shredded, the seat cushions thrown around the room and the stuffing coming out.
Stepping forwards, you heard a crunching under your feet and looked down to find the shattered remains of your family photos. On top of the pile lay a photo of you and your mother, taken on your graduation day. Her face was marred by the crack running through the glass, which was ironic considering the fact that you’d just seen her real face shattered, slammed against the wall by an unknown force.
You shuddered, backing away from the room. It was too much, it was all too much. You needed to get out of here, to get away from it all. It couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t. Things like this didn’t happen in real life, and not to your family. These sorts of things were meant to be read about in the papers, watched on the news. Not experienced. But at the same time, you knew that this was nothing like what you’d ever heard of. People weren’t supposed to be thrown about by invisible people. There weren’t even supposed to be invisible people.
You turned around, fleeing back down the hallway towards the front door. However, you were pulled up short, crashing head first into something solid. You backed away in fear, sure that whatever had harmed your mother had come for you. But as you looked up, you realised you could see the thing you had hit, and as it turned out, it wasn’t something, but someone.
Two men stood before you, both wearing formal looking suits. The one you had run into, the taller of the two, had chin length dark hair, and stood beside another man, who was tall but not like the first one, with hair slightly lighter in colour. “Who the hell are you?” you asked, trying to mask your fear.
They both reached into the inside pockets of their suit jackets, pulling out an FBI badge. “Agent Stark and Agent Banner. FBI.” You blinked a little in confusion at their names, but gestured for them to continue. “We were passing through the neighbourhood and heard screams. We thought we’d look into it.”
“It was my mother,” you told them. “She…oh my god, she’s dead.” The reality of it hit you, the force of the realisation winding you. You felt yourself begin to hyperventilate and the taller man touched your arm, guiding you into the kitchen.
“It’s gonna be alright, I promise. You just need to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Can you do that for me?” You nodded, trying to do as he said. Sitting down heavily in a chair, you felt your breathing slowly returning to normal. “Now can you please describe what happened?” the FBI agent asked gently, noticing your calmer state.
“I was just coming home from the shops, and I heard a crash coming from the house, followed by a scream,” you began. “I ran into the house and the living room…it was just trashed. And right in the middle of it all was my mum, and she was just flung across the room and straight into the wall. And she…” you had to swallow before continuing. “She was dead when I got to her.”
“What threw her?”
You flipped up your palms, conveying your cluelessness. “That’s the thing. There was nothing there.”
“Alright, um…?”
“Y/N,” you supplied.
“Alright, Y/N,” the shorter man continued. “Do you think you could tell us if your mum bought anything in the past few days? Probably something old, maybe an antique.”
“What sort of question is that?” you demanded.
“Please, just tell us. Every detail can help, even if it seems insignificant.”
“Well,” you replied, wracking your brain. “I know she was really into going to second hand stores, picking up things she thought were interesting or unusual. She liked the idea that something she owned had a story, a past, as though it was a real person. And I’m pretty sure she went looking in an antique store the other day when she went out, but I have no idea if she got anything.”
The two agents exchanged a glance. “Could you just excuse us for a moment?” the tall one asked. You nodded in consent. As the two of them walked away, you heard them muttering things that sounded like ‘spirits’ and 'EMF’.
“Excuse me,” you interrupted, barging in between the two of them. “When are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”
“What are you talking about?” the shorter man asked.
“Well for starters, my mother was thrown across the room by something invisible. Don’t you think that’s just a little bit weird?”
“It was a lot to take in. You were probably just-”
“Don’t you dare tell me I was imagining it!” you cut him off. “I know what I saw. And I think you do as well. I mean, since when do FBI guys talk about ghosts and ask about people buying antiques during a murder investigation? When are FBI guys ever just driving through the neighbourhood?” You raised an eyebrow at them and stood with your hands on your hips, daring them to contradict you. “And don’t think I didn’t notice your names. Agent Stark and Agent Banner? I’ve seen the Avengers, you know. And I don’t think I need to tell you that it’s an offence to impersonate a federal agent.”
“Look, Y/N,” the taller man began.
“If you’re about to tell me I’m making all this up, then you can just shut your mouth,” you warned.
“No, you’re right. We aren’t FBI guys. My name’s Sam Winchester and this is Dean, my brother,” he explained.
You narrowed your eyes at them suspiciously. “What are you doing in my house?”
“You may want to sit down,” Dean suggested.
“I’ve just seen my mum get - get killed,” you answered. “I can handle whatever you’ve got to say.”
“Alright,” Sam began. “Well, what attacked your mother was a spirit. The reason we were asking about any old objects she might have recently purchased was because we’ve been in town investigating a string of similar murders, and we believe she may have come into possession of the item that the spirit is attached to.”
“That’s-that’s ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Ghosts aren’t even real!”
“How else would you explain it?” Dean asked. You opened your mouth, but shut it again when you realised you had no other explanation. “Exactly.”
“So I suppose you guys are like Ghostbusters then?” you joked.
“No. We’re better,” Dean smirked. He turned on his heel, heading outside to where they’d presumably parked their car. You looked back at Sam.
“So…” you began.
“So,” he answered with a smile.
“Thank you,” you murmured.
“For what?”
You blushed. “You were very sweet to me before. When I was freaking out, I mean.”
“That was nothing,” he replied bashfully.
“Well if that was nothing, I’d like to see something.” You froze. “I mean, you know, I just -”
“It’s alright,” Sam assured you. “I understand what you’re getting at.” You both stood around for a moment, taking turns to glance at each other before darting your eyes away, not wanting to be caught staring. “I should probably go,” Sam said, interrupting the silence. “Dean’ll be wondering where I am.”
“Wait!” you called after him, stopping him from leaving the room. He turned back to face you, waiting expectantly for you to continue. “I-I want to come with you.”
“Y/N…I don’t think that’s the best idea.” You folded your arms across your chest defiantly.
“And why not? It’s probably a lot better for me than staying here.”
“It’ll be dangerous,” he told you. You snorted.
“Yeah, because my home is so safe at the moment,” you answered sarcastically. He smiled ruefully.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Suddenly, you grew embarrassed, worried that you had overstepped a boundary. “Look, if you don’t want me to come, I understand. I just thought that you seem nice and that we could, I don’t know, get to know one another. Maybe you could help me deal with all this…” you trailed off, wiping away a few stray tears.
“Hey, look at me,” he said firmly. You reluctantly tilted your head upwards, shifting your gaze to meet his. “I’d love for us to get to know each other.”
~~~~~
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27 at the moment. But I’m hoping that number will be decreased dramatically over the next week or so!
Hi! Thank you so much for sending this message. It really means a lot to me that you said that.
Hi. I’m so sorry for the delay! But I hope this is what you were after.
~~~~~
You settled down into the soft leather of the couch, the screensaver of the DVD player bouncing around the screen while you waited for everyone to get ready. Sam and Cas had already taken their places on the other seats in the room and Dean was just heading in, his hair damp from the shower he’d just taken.
You heard the pinging countdown of the microwave and as Charlie opened it, the smell of popcorn wafted towards you.
“Hurry up! I want to start the movie!” you called out to her. As she walked in and sat down, you grinned at her, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn and stuffing them into your mouth.
“Hey!” She slapped your hand away, sending the bowl down on the table where it was out of your reach. “Stop eating all the popcorn! The movie hasn’t even started yet.”
“But it’s traditional to eat it all before the movie starts!” you protested.
“I’m pretty sure that only works when you’re actually in a movie theatre,” Sam pointed out. He was leaning back into the cushions, his legs stretched out along the ground in front of him and his arms folded behind his head.
“Hush, Sam! I’m right. I’m always right.”
“You just go on thinking that,” Charlie teased. You playfully hit her arm before leaning in towards her, capturing her lips with your own. As you ran your hands through her red hair, she placed her hands on your hips, pulling you closer.
“Alright, alright. Tone it down, lovebirds!” Dean teased. “Just remember that I’ve got to watch TV on that couch!”
You shot him a mock glare, trying to contain your smile. But you and Charlie pulled apart none the less, with her moving to rest her head against your shoulder. “I don’t understand,” Cas announced, indifferent to what had been happening around him. You glanced up at the angel to find him seated upright on a chair, a confused frown on his face. In his hands was the DVD case, and he appeared to be reading the blurb. “Why would anyone want to watch a film about children killing one another?”
“There’s more to it than that, Cas,” you explained. “The Hunger Games is a very powerful and well-written story. It’s got a lot of social and political messages, too.”
“It still seems like a horrible tale to me,” he answered dubiously.
“Just give it a shot,” Sam encouraged.
“Who knows?” Charlie began. “You might like it so much that you’ll come and see Mockingjay Part 1 with us at the movies!”
“There are more of them?”
“Yep!” you answered. “The Hunger Games and Catching Fire are the only ones out at the moment, which we’ll be watching tonight. But late this year Mockingjay Part 1 comes out, followed by Mockingjay Part 2 next year!”
“Do you think you guys could stop all this crapping on?” Dean complained. “I want to start watching the movie!” He was sprawled across the lounge, his facial expression showing his agitation at the delay.
“Let’s start then,” Charlie stated, pointing the remote at the TV and pressing the play button.
~~~~~
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Hi. I’m so glad you like my blog! I hope you like this imagine just as much, and I’m very sorry for the delay.
~~~~~
You trekked along the dirt road, Dean by your side and Sammy just behind the two of you. The dusty track stretched ahead of you for miles, hopefully leading to the safety camp you’d heard rumours of. The world had been thrown into total chaos, a zombie apocalypse taking over and causing mass destruction. Despite all the things you’d faced as a hunter, you had honestly believed that a zombie apocalypse would only ever exist in the minds of Hollywood producers. But it had happened none the less, and there was no way the three of you could handle the problem on your own.
“God, how much longer is it gonna be?” you muttered, rubbing the sweat off your forehead before it had the chance to drip into your eyes and sting them.
“Could you stop whining?” Dean snapped, holding his shotgun at the ready. “We’ve still got a few hours left to walk tonight, and after that it should only be a couple more days before we make it there. Just be grateful we’re walking at night.”
“That’s only because the zombies can’t go out in daylight and it’s the safest time to rest,” you pointed out.
“Shut up!” Dean whispered fiercely. “They’re all gonna hear us if you don’t keep it down!” You shifted your own gun in your hands, holding at so that it could easily be manoeuvred to face Dean.
“Stop having a go at me!” you demanded, sending a furious glare in his direction.
“Are you pointing your gun at me?” he asked in disbelief. You turned to look at him. The shadows fell across his face, concealing his expression from you. Behind him, the outlines of trees seemed to creep forwards, appearing every bit as menacing as the zombies you were hoping to avoid.
“That depends. Are you going to stop being a jerk to me?” you retorted.
“For God’s sake,” Sam muttered, stepping forward. He put a hand on each of your heads, shoving them together. “Just get it over with already.”
You froze, incredibly aware of the close proximity of Dean’s lips. His breath mingled with your own and you gazed up into his eyes, noticing that they flicked down for a moment to look at your lips. Slowly, you leaned forward, feeling him do the same. Your eyelids fluttered shut and you felt a soft pressure on your lips as Dean met them with his own. Your lips moved against his in a slow, passionate kiss and your hands reached up to tangle in his hair. After a few moments, you pulled back to catch your breath.
Standing with your body pressed against Dean, you let your hands relax their grip on him, and he rested his forehead against your own. Only a few millimetres of space lay between your lips, and you could feel your breath mingling with Dean. He pulled back slightly, looking down at your face before bringing you in for another kiss.
“Finally,” Sam muttered.
~~~~~
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I’ve opened up the ask box again because I kind of missed seeing all your amazing imagines ideas in my inbox. But if you do have a request, just keep in mind that it might take me a little while to get it written (probably two weeks at the most).
Hi. Thank you! I’m sorry for the wait. I hope it was worth it! And I really enjoyed writing this. I loved the idea for it.
~~~~~
You were sitting cross-legged on your bed in the bunker, your sheets in a crumpled mess beneath you. You crunched on some Doritos, the bag crinkling as you stuck your hand in to grab another. In front of you, the TV was playing Friends reruns, and you laughed at the antics of your favourite characters.
For the past few weeks, you and your sister had been staying with the Winchester boys at their bunker. The two of you had been on the run ever since a vampire had attacked your parents a few months back. You and your sister had managed to escape, but the vampire wanted to finish what it had started. Even though your sister drove you from one motel to the next, constantly on the move to stop it from tracking you, it had eventually caught up with you.
You thought you were going to meet your bloody end in that shabby motel room, found by the cleaning lady the next morning as she came in to scrub the mouldy bathrooms and replace the bed sheets with ones which were cleaner but no less threadbare. But then two men had burst into the room, brandishing small swords which they had used to cut off the vampire’s head.
They had introduced themselves as Sam and Dean Winchester as they escorted you to their Impala, allowing the two of you to settle into the soft leather of the backseat. Then they’d driven you back to their bunker, promising that you’d be safe there and that you could stay for as long as you wanted. So you had, and it had become like a second home for you in the time that you’d been there.
They’d taken good care of the two of you, and Sam and Dean had treated you like the little sister they never had. They’d even introduced you to their friend Castiel. You’d been intimidated at first, considering the fact that angels weren’t exactly a normal companion for someone to have, but he’d been very sweet to both of you, especially your sister.
“Y/N.” Cas had zapped himself into your room, causing you to jump and spill Doritos all over your bed.
“Jesus, Cas!” you exclaimed, gathering the chips back into the bag. “Haven’t you ever heard of a door.”
“I’m older than humanity. Of course I’ve heard of a door,” he answered seriously. You sighed, brushing orange cheese dust off on your worn jeans.
“It was a rhetorical question, Cas,” you explained. “Now why did you come see me, anyway?”
“I wish to ask your advice on something,” he stated. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief.
“My advice? What would I be able to help you with?”
Castiel shifted uncomfortably. “It’s about your sister.” You smirked, leaning back against your pillows. So this was it, the reason behind all the conversations and glances he shared with your sister.
“What about her?” you asked innocently.
“Uh, well, I have certain human feelings for her and I wanted to know how best to ask her on a date.”
“I knew it!” you squealed. You jumped up, throwing your arms around Cas. “Oh my god, oh my god, you’re going to be my brother!”
“What has my father got to do with anything?” Castiel asked, his brows knitted together in confusion. “And I think marriage is definitely out of the question. I barely know her.”
You sighed in exasperation. “You barely know her now. But you’ll get to know her soon!” You zoned out, your mind a mess of flowers and elaborate place cards.
“Y/N,” Castiel said, interrupting your mental planning of the bridesmaid dresses. “I still need to ask her on a date. And I don’t even know if she feels the same way about me.”
“Of course she does!” you exclaimed.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked doubtfully. You sat down on the bed, tugging on his arm to make him sit down beside you.
“Cas,” you said, looking directly into his intense blue eyes. “I’ve known my sister my whole life. Trust me, she likes you.” A shy grin made its way onto the angel’s features and his eyes lit up.
“That is very good news,” he said.
“It is,” you agreed, smiling at his obvious joy. “Okay, so if you want to ask her out, you should probably buy her flowers. Nothing fancy like roses though, just some daffodils. They’re her favourite,” you explained. “Give them to her and tell her how you feel, and then ask her to a movie. She likes rom-coms the most.”
“And you think she’ll say yes?”
“Definitely,” you assured him.
Castiel grinned and stood up. “Thank you very much for your advice, Y/N.”
“Anytime, Cas,” you told him. “Now go ask her out! I wanna start planning the wedding.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Don’t judge me, but I listened to High School Musical songs while writing this. But hey, they’re catchy!
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. I’m sorry about the wait! I wasn’t too sure about the ending of this, but I think it turned out alright.
~~~~~
For years, you had been hunting with the Winchesters. And even before you had been old enough to start hunting, you remember staying in motel rooms with them while your parents went off on hunts. You were halfway between the two brothers in age but even though you were never in their classes, they still made sure to hang out with you during break times at the various schools the three of you had attended over the course of your childhood.
Sam and Dean had never treated you as an outsider. In fact, they seemed to think of you as one of the guys. And for the most part, you were. You wore the same kind of flannel shirts they wore along with your torn jeans. You learned to shoot with them and went on your first hunt with them. You played football with them and you wrestled with them. Even when you’d gone through puberty and stopped looking like a child, they’d never seemed to pay much attention. You were just Y/N to them.
But last week, Sam had come across a case involving a cursed object, which was unfortunately in the possession of a very wealthy old woman. Breaking in was out of the question, as she had very tight security on her property, so you had to be a little more subtle in your attempt to retrieve the artefact. Like in the story of the Trojan Horse, you had to sneak in under the cover of a disguise. And luckily, she had a large charity benefit planned for tonight, held right in her elaborate ballroom. And the three of you had managed to score invites through a bit of trickery.
“Y/N, come on!” Dean called out. “If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late, and we can’t afford to raise suspicion!”
“I’m coming!” you yelled back from the bathroom. Of course, this was a very formal event, and if you wanted to blend in, you had to play the part, which meant dressing up. It was the first time you had ever really done so, considering you hadn’t wanted to go to prom with a group of people you barely knew.
You stepped into your gold gown, pulling the silky fabric up over your body. The dress hugged your curves and, paired with the matching shoes, you looked ready to hit the Paris catwalks. You added a touch of make up, and slipped your grandmother’s diamond earrings into your ears. You brought your hair over your right shoulder, already styled from the hour you had spend in front of the mirror with your curler.
“How much longer are you going to be?” Dean’s voice rang out.
“I’m ready now!” You took a deep breath, smoothing imaginary creases in the dress’ fabric. Gripping the handle of the door, you slowly eased it open, stepping into the motel room beyond it. Sam and Dean were waiting there for you, looking uncomfortable yet incredibly attractive in their rented tuxes. When they caught sight of you in the doorway, their jaws dropped.
“Wow, Y/N, you look…wow,” Sam stuttered, his eyes widening in appreciation.
“You like?” you asked, spinning around to show off the back of the dress. Dean coughed.
“Damn. You look hot,” he admitted. Your cheeks heated up and you looked down shyly.
“I never realised how beautiful you are,” Sam murmured. You grinned to yourself, pleased that for the first time in your life, you had actually managed to shock the Winchester boys.
“We should probably go,” you told them, interrupting their gawking. “We wouldn’t want to be late,” you teased.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. You’re so sweet! And I’m sorry for the long wait, but I hope this is what you were after!
~~~~~
The sunlight streamed in through the windows, piercing into you. You brought a hand up to shield your eyes, shifting your aching body to try to find a more comfortable position on the lumpy motel mattress beneath you. The inside of your throat felt raw, as though it had been scraped over and over with sandpaper, and your skull throbbed.
“You alright?” Sam asked, overhearing your moans.
“Shh!” you whispered fiercely, pulling the covers up to muffle his voice and protect your head from further pain. The bed dipped beside you and the covers were gently tugged off by Sam.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
“I’m sick,” you answered thickly, your blocked nose distorting the sound of your voice.
“I’ll tell you what,” Sam began, tucking the covers back around you. “I think I saw a convenience store around the corner when we got here. I’ll go pick up some stuff for you and then I’ll come take care of you. How does that sound?”
“Very good,” you mumbled. Sam smiled and kissed you on the forehead before grabbing his jacket and turning to leave the motel room. “Sammy?” He turned back around, looking at you expectantly. “Could you please close the curtains? They’re hurting my eyes.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” he answered, drawing the curtains back across the window. He left and you settled back into the covers, trying to get back to sleep. You figured that if you rested for a bit, you wouldn’t have to deal with the aches and pains of being sick. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fall back asleep. Eventually though, you managed to drift off into a semi-conscious state. However, this was interrupted when Sam came back into the room. Even though he had tried to be quiet, the soft thud of the door closing sent sharp spikes straight into your skull, causing you to groan in pain.
“Did I wake you?” Sam asked in concern.
“I wasn’t really asleep,” you replied, turning around so that you could see him. He sat beside you on the bed, brushing the stray strands of hair back from your sweaty face.
“You’re burning up.” He frowned, standing up and heading into the bathroom. When he returned, he held a wet face washer in his hands. Coming back over towards you, he gently dabbed it onto your face. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you leaned into the cool relief that it provided.
“So what did you buy at the shop?” you murmured.
“I got some tissues, aspirin, soup, movies and chocolate.” You cracked open one eye.
“Chocolate and movies?”
“I figured we could stay in and watch a few movies,” he explained.
“You’re staying with me?” you asked hopefully.
“Of course!” he answered. “Where else would I go?”
“Well, you could go do something else if you wanted. I don’t want you to get sick,” you told him. If he got sick because of you, the guilt would be overwhelming.
“I’ll tell you what,” Sam said, leaning in conspiratorially. “I’ll take care of you while you’re sick, and if I get sick because of you, you can take care of me and we’ll call it even. What do you think?”
You smiled up at him sleepily. “It’s a deal.”
“Alright,” he answered with a smile. “I’ll make you some soup and then we can watch the first movie.”
“Wait!” you called out as he got up to go to the small motel kitchen.
“Yeah?” he asked, turning back towards you.
“Can I have some of that chocolate first?” you asked shyly. Sam grinned, shaking his head softly before coming back to your bedside.
“Of course,” he murmured, passing you the block.
“Sammy?” you called again as he attempted to head to the kitchen for the second time. He paused, looking back at you while he waited for you to continue. “You’re the best,” you told him.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I’m sorry I haven’t posted over the past couple of days. I went to see Captain America: The Winter Soldier (which was epic) and then slept over at a friend’s house, so I didn’t really have a chance.
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. I’m glad to hear that you like my writing! I’m sorry for the wait, but here’s your request.
~~~~~
Sam parked the Impala in front of your parents’ house, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. “Hey,” you murmured, reaching over to take one of his hands in your own. “It’s alright, Sam. It’s just my parents. It’s no big deal.”
Sam laughed shakily. “For you it’s no big deal. They like you. But me? I’m the guy taking away their daughter’s innocence! Your father’s probably out back loading up the shotgun!” You bit your lip, trying to hide a smile at his choice of words.
“Maybe we just won’t discuss things like that,” you told him. “And besides, my parents have no reason not to like you. You’re very sweet and smart and you take good care of me.”
Sam looked at you pointedly. “What happens when they ask what I do for a living?”
“Well…we can just tell them you’re a search and rescue volunteer!” you answered, pleased with the answer you had come up with.
“A search and rescue volunteer?” Sam asked doubtfully.
“It’s kind of true!” you insisted. “I mean, you search for hunts and then you rescue the victims. We just won’t tell them the details.”
Sam smirked. “I love the way your brain works. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
The two of you got out of the Impala, which Dean had reluctantly agreed to let you borrow for the occasion. You opened up the rusty front gate and you and Sam strode up the white path, you keeping a hand on Sam’s arm to keep him moving. When you got up to the front porch, Sam rang the doorbell, wiping his other hand across his forehead. A few moments later, the sound of footsteps came from inside and your father opened the door, your mother by his side.
“Y/N!” your mother exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug. She pulled back, allowing your father to pull you into an embrace of his own.
“I’ve missed you guys so much!”
“I know,” your mother answered. “It’s been much too long.” She noticed Sam standing beside you. “You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she added politely.
“Sam Winchester,” he introduced himself, offering his hand to them. Your mother shook it but your father simply eyed it disapprovingly, leaving Sam to awkwardly pull it back down by his side.
“Why don’t you both come inside?” your mother suggested, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You lead Sam inside, taking a seat beside him on one of the small couches in the sitting room. “Lunch should be ready in about ten minutes,” your mother announced. “Just make yourself at home.” Next to you, Sam jiggled his leg up and down with nerves.
“Hey,” you whispered, putting a hand on his knee to still it. “Just relax, alright? It’s gonna be fine.” Soon enough, your mother called everyone into the dining room and you all sat down before a table full of food.
“This looks delicious, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Sam told your mother. She smiled at him.
“Well, it’s a special occasion. I wanted to go all out.” The next few minutes passed in silence, the clattering of cutlery against plates and chewing being the only sounds that filled the air.
“Sam,” your father finally said, “what do you do for a living?” Sam exchanged a glance with you, thinking back to your earlier conversation in the car when he had predicted this exact question.
“Uh, I’m a search and rescue volunteer,” he answered.
“That’s lovely!” your mother replied.
“It doesn’t exactly pay the bills though, does it?” your father added. Sam looked down uncomfortably, clearly unsure about how to answer.
“No, not really,” he responded. “But I do odd jobs here and there when I can. I just feel that it’s more important to help others.” Your father made a small noise in the back of his throat, trying to hide his approval at Sam’s reply.
The rest of lunch passed rather slowly, small talk making up the main part of the discussion. It felt good to be able to tell your parents about what you’d been doing lately, even if you had to leave out large bits of information. When lunch was over, you and Sam volunteered to clean the dishes.
Eventually, after everything had been packed away and numerous photo albums had been passed around, it was time for you and Sam to leave. You hugged each of your parents tightly, not sure when you’d next have the chance to see them.
“Take care,” your mother whispered in your ear.
“And make time for a phone call every so often,” your father told you. “Your mother and I raised you. It’s the least you can do in return.” You grinned at him.
“I will, Dad. I love you both.”
“It was nice to meet you both,” Sam said, smiling at each of your parents in turn.
“It was,” your mother smiled. “You should come by more often.”
Your father stuck out his hand, giving you and Sam cause to exchange a look of surprise. “Take good care of her.”
“I will, sir,” Sam promised, shaking his hand. You exchanged your final goodbyes, and you and Sam headed out to the car.
“I thought that went well,” you announced once you were back in the passenger seat. “They really seemed to like you.”
“You really think so?” Sam asked nervously.
You smirked. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I wasn’t entirely happy with the ending, but I thought it was alright aside from that.
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hey. Sorry for the wait! But here it is.
~~~~~
You pulled up in front of an abandoned warehouse, the tires of your car crunching over gravel. Opening up the door, you stepped out, slipping a knife down the side of your combat boot as you did. You gently closed the door behind you, careful to keep the noise to a minimum. It was just you against five demons, and you knew that the element of surprise could tip the scales in your favour a great deal.
Twirling your angel blade around your fingers, you let it settle against the palm of your hand. You gripped it tightly, creeping up to the side of the building. At one of the boarded up windows you paused, leaning against the rough wooden planks that had been nailed across it. You peeked in one of the cracks and saw the demons standing in various positions around the warehouse, seemingly relaxed. There were five of them, just as you had predicted.
You took a deep breath and set off towards the entrance, making sure to keep close enough to the building that you could feel the cool concrete against your back at all times. Just before you got to the entrance, you stopped and counted to ten before rushing inside.
The first two demons were positioned close to the entrance, and you took them both down before they even knew what was happening. But by the time the second one dropped, the other three charged over you, the closest one grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back. You slammed down on her toes with the heel of your boot, causing it’s grip on your left arm to loosen ever so slightly. You freed your arm and slammed it into the demon’s jaw.
Vaguely, you could make out the sounds of an engine roaring to a halt outside, followed by the sounds of two males shouting. However, it didn’t directly affect you, so you ignored it, instead focussing your attention on the more immediate problem at hand - taking down the remaining demons.
You spun around, sweeping the demon’s legs out from under her before driving your knife into its heart. Turning around, you saw the other two gaining ground. You dropped down, plucking the knife from your boot and hurling it in the direction of one of the demons. It reared back, letting out a growl of pain as it stopped to remove the knife. Whilst it was distracted, you turned back to the other demon, allowing it to run straight into the tip of your blade.
Finally, you were down to one last demon. You tackled it to the ground, pinning it down with your weight. Smirking at it, you gripped the blade, burying it in the demon’s chest.
You stood up, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “What the hell?” a voice exclaimed from behind you.
“That’s exactly where they came from.” You smirked, spinning around and striding over to the two men who were gaping at you from the entrance. “And who might you two be?”
The taller man was the first to recover from his shock. “I’m Sam Winchester. This is my brother, Dean,” he introduced, gesturing towards the other man.
“Winchester. Interesting,” you replied, your tone giving nothing away.
“Interesting good or interesting bad?” Dean asked.
You gave him a knowing smirk. “That remains to be seen. Now what were you two doing on my case? I had it covered.”
“We can see that,” Dean said, staring at you in amazement. “You were badass.”
“Which is lucky, because neither of you did anything to contribute,” you pointed out.
“That’s only because you had practically taken them all down before we could do anything,” Sam defended.
“I know,” you grinned. “It was pretty awesome, huh?”
“Definitely,” Dean answered. “Maybe the three of us should head out to a bar and discuss some hunting techniques. You look like you have a lot of wisdom to impart.”
You eyed him carefully, sizing him up. “Alright,” you finally agreed. “You guys head out and I’ll follow you.” The two of them got back into their car, heading in the direction of the town. You followed them in your own car, feeling just the slightest bit excited at the chance to get to know them a little better.
—-
Twenty minutes later saw you sitting at the bar alongside Sam and Dean, the haze of cigarette smoke washing over you. When Sam got up to make a call, Dean turned his attention to you. “So,” he began. “How long have you been hunting?”
“A while,” you answered coyly.
“You don’t give much away, do you?” Dean observed.
“If I told you all my secrets, I’d have to kill you,” you told him with an air of mock seriousness. Dean grinned at you.
“I don’t doubt that you could.”
“Good. Underestimating me would be the last thing you would ever do,” you told him. “Just a word of warning.”
He looked down for a moment, considering something. After a moment, he glanced back up at you. “Will I have many more chances to underestimate you?” he asked hopefully. You bit the inside of your cheek, gazing at him thoughtfully.
“Do you want many more chances?”
“Definitely,” he answered.
“Well then. I guess you’re going to have to be on your guard,” you grinned.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Alright. My ask box is officially closing, but it should be open within the next few days.
Hi! Im glad you like my blog! I’m sorry for the long wait, but I hope it was worth it.
TRIGGER WARNING: miscarriage.
~~~~~
You slumped against the door of the bunker, bringing your arm up to knock against it. It was autumn, and the wind had a chilly bite to it. You shivered, pulling your jacket tighter against you. Your hand came to rest on your stomach and you felt the small bump that lay there. The feel of it brought on memories of earlier that morning, triggering more tears to fall from your eyes.
A small click caught your attention, and Sam jerked the door open, automatically dumping holy water on you. You flinched at its coldness, trying and failing to suppress another sob. “Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?” Sam queried. He noticed the bags you had dumped unceremoniously at your feet and he picked them up, hauling them inside the bunker. “Come inside,” he coaxed gently. You stepped inside the door and he helped you out of your wet jacket. When you started making your way down the steps, Sam wrapped his arm around you, helping you down.
“What’s going on?” Dean asked, walking into the room. He noticed the tear stains running down your cheeks and rushed over to you. “Y/N, what happened? Is everything alright with Jake?” The sound of his name brought on a fresh round of sobbing. “Okay, not the best thing to mention,” Dean said, leading you over to a couch.
“Y/N, please tell us what happened. We can help you,” Sam told you earnestly, sitting down beside you as Dean crouched in front of you.
“H-he br-broke up with me!” you sobbed.
“Uh, I think we have some ice cream in the freezer,” Sam told you. “That helps girls through break ups, right?” You shook your head at him.
“You don’t understand.” You glanced up at the two of them. “I’m pregnant,” you whispered.
“That son of a bitch!” Dean shouted, shooting up from the ground. “So he broke up with you because you told him you were pregnant?” You nodded in confirmation, causing Dean to start pacing the floor. “When I get my hands on him, I swear to God…” he muttered under his breath.
“Dean!” you gasped. “You can’t threaten him!”
“Damn right, I can! That jerk left you when you needed him most!”
“But this isn’t going to help at all!” you insisted.
“Then what will?” Sam asked.
You looked down shyly. “Well I was wondering…do you think that maybe I could stay here for a little bit?” You peeked up at the boys from under your eyelashes, gauging their reactions.
“Of course you can,” Sam assured you, acting as though the answer should’ve been obvious. “The bunker is your home too, for as long as you need it.”
“Thank you,” you smiled.
—-
A few weeks later, you woke up in the middle of the night, your stomach aching with the fiercest cramps you had ever experienced. You sat up slowly, the sheets feeling slick beneath you. Ever so carefully, you pulled back the covers, exposing the blood stain covering the bedding. You screamed, not caring that it was the middle of the night and that the others would be asleep. “SAM! DEAN!” you shrieked, your voice taken over by panic.
The boys burst into your room, waving around guns as though expecting there to be some sort of monster to deal with. When their search turned up empty, they looked down at your bed, their eyes going wide when they saw the blood around you.
“Oh God,” Dean murmured, the two of them rushing over to you as you blacked out from the pain.
—-
A steady beeping woke you up, accompanied by total whiteness. At first you thought something had gone wrong with your vision, but then you realised that you were in a hospital. Blinking, you noticed Dean sitting in a chair at your side, with a doctor standing at the end of your bed.
“Good. You’re awake,” he said.
“What happened?” you asked groggily. The doctor’s smile dropped, turning into an expression of sympathy. “My baby. Is it alright?” The doctor just stared back at you for a moment, and your heart dropped into the depths of your stomach.
“I’m very sorry to say this, but you have had a miscarriage,” he informed you. A buzzing sound filled your ears and you had to blink a few times to make sure you didn’t pass out again. You barely heard the doctor as he said, “I’ll just let you have a few minutes alone with your partner.” As he walked out, you didn’t even bother to correct him. It didn’t matter. Nothing did. Your baby was gone.
“Y/N? Y/N!” Dean called. Slowly, you turned your head to look at him. Seeing his look of sorrow, you gave into the waves of tears that had threatened to overcome you ever since the doctor had started to speak.
“My baby, my baby,” you repeated over and over, as if the words alone could be enough to bring it back.
“I know,” Dean whispered, pulling you firmly into his arms. “But we’re going to get through this, alright? Sammy and I are going to be here for you every step of the way. It’ll get better.”
“How?” you wailed, grabbing onto his shirt as though it was a lifeline. “How can it ever get better after this?”
“Because I’m going to make it get better,” Dean murmured, pulling back to look you dead in the eye. “I’m going to help you out as much as it’s physically possible.”
You gazed back at him, trying to clamp down on the sobs that were wracking your body. “Why?” you asked timidly, your voice sounding like that of a little girl. “Why are you so nice to me? Why have you helped me so much over these past few weeks?”
Dean took a deep breath. “Because I love you.” Your breath caught in your throat, and you sat in stunned silence for a moment. But finally, you came to your senses again and wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into his embrace.
“Dean…I think I’m falling in love with you, too,” you admitted, your voice muffled against his body. You felt that maybe, just maybe, things could get better again with Dean by your side.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. I’m sorry about the wait. I hope this is what you were after!
~~~~~
Ever since you were a kid, you had been with the Winchester boys. You remember being barely walking when your dad first dropped you off at Bobby’s house with Sam and Dean while he went off to hunt monsters with John Winchester. You would play soccer with them, and learn to shoot with them. You went to school with them and picked fights with them. You shared so many things with them, and as time went on, the loss of both your families was another thing added to the list of things you shared.
Sam and Dean had always taken care of you, standing up against bullies and kicking the butts of any guys who dared to break your heart. You were so close to the both of them, even if you and Dean spent half your time fighting. And although you’d never admit it, fighting with Dean was something you couldn’t live without. You loved him.
You strode out of your bedroom in the bunker, tying your hair back in a ponytail. This was one of the rare times when the three of you weren’t on a case, so you were able to relax in an old pair of track pants and a tank top. You couldn’t be happier that you didn’t have to wear any fake FBI outfits for a while. You despised getting all dressed up like that. You would much rather lounge about in oversized T-shirts and baggy pants.
“What’s up, Y/N,” Dean asked, sending a smirk in your direction as you walked into the library.
“Bite me, Winchester,” you replied.
“Ooh, someone’s grumpy!” he teased. He walked over to where you had sat down and tugged on your hair.
“Are you five or something?” you exclaimed, swatting his hands away. “Leave me alone!”
“Make me.” He grabbed hold of your hands, twisting them around. You stumbled out of your chair, trying to free yourself from his grasp. But his hands were clenched tightly around your wrists and you couldn’t get away.
“Get off me!” you demanded.
“You’re a hunter,” he responded. “Do it yourself.” You twisted your body around sharply, causing him to loosen his grip on you. You tackled him to the ground, pinning his arms with your knees and using your weight to hold him down.
“Gotcha,” you smirked.
“I don’t think so,” he answered back, flipping around so that he was the one holding you down. But as he pushed you down onto the floor, he shoved too hard, slamming your head against the floor. You cried out in pain, and Dean’s triumphant expression immediately changed to one of concern. “Shit! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” You shook you head at him, tears springing to your eyes and leaking out of the corners.
“It really hurts,” you whimpered.
“I can tell,” he murmured. “I haven’t seen you cry since…God, it must’ve been when we were seven and you scraped your knee when you tried climbing that tree in the park.”
“It’s not like I make a habit of it,” you sniffled.
“I know. Come on,” Dean said, slowly pulling you up into a sitting position. “Let’s check out that head of yours.” He walked you over to a chair, gently setting you down and moving behind you to check the back of your head. “There’s a small bump there,” he told you. He pressed against it lightly. “Does this hurt?”
“Yes!” you exclaimed. Dean came around to crouch down in front of you.
“Is your vision blurry?” he asked seriously.
“No, Dean. It’s fine. I’m pretty sure I don’t have a concussion,” you stated. Dean didn’t move, remaining where he was and eyeing you carefully. “What?”
“Nothing,” he answered. “We’re just going to have to keep an eye on you. Make sure things don’t get worse.” He stayed crouched in front of you, reaching out to grab hold of your hands. He held onto them tightly, squeezing them comfortingly.
You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Dean.”
“Anything for you.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading. And Happy Easter to everyone who celebrates it!
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi! I’ve never written a Part Two to an imagine before so I hope I did an okay job.
Link to Part One:
http://imagines-supernatural.tumblr.com/post/83163112089/i-really-loved-the-imagine-you-made-and-here-i-am
~~~~~
You and Cas had been sitting side by side on your bed in silence for about twenty minutes when you heard Sam and Dean’s voices coming from outside the motel room. Your fingers tightened around Castiel’s trenchcoat and you shrank further into him.
“Y/N, I think that perhaps you should just talk to Sam,” Cas murmured. “Perhaps there is an explanation for all this.” You sat bolt upright, staring at him in disbelief.
“An explanation? What is there to explain? I’ve never done anything to him!” you exclaimed.
“I know,” he agreed with you. “But I still feel that you and Sam should talk. You can’t keep putting yourself through this.” You bit your lip, frowning up at him.
“I don’t like this one bit,” you told him. “But…maybe you’re right. I feel bad that you and Dean always have to be around to fix me up.”
Cas was about to reply when Sam and Dean entered the room. Sam’s laughter cut off abruptly when he saw you sitting on the bed. You looked down at your hands, suddenly losing the confidence to speak with him. However, before you had a chance to inform Cas of your change of heart, he spoke up. “Dean, would you mind accompanying me for a moment?”
Dean frowned, glancing between you and Sam. “Cas, are you sure that’s the best idea?”
“Trust me,” Cas said, grabbing Dean by the arm. The sound of beating wings filled the room and they were gone, off to who knew where.
“Well this is just great,” Sam muttered under his breath, dumping the cartons of take out on the table. Every muscle in his body seemed to be stiff with tension, and you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was seriously pissed off to be alone with you.
You glanced around at the peeling wallpaper of the motel room, hoping desperately for some kind of distraction to come along to prevent you from having this conversation with Sam. Unfortunately, none were forthcoming, so you took a deep breath and stood up. “Sam?” you asked timidly, moving towards where he had seated himself at the table.
“What do you want?” he answered harshly. It was obvious in his voice that talking to you was the last thing on his agenda.
Suddenly, you felt angry. And not the kind of angry that made teens lock themselves up in their bedrooms with rock music blasting, but the kind of angry that made you want to grab Sam by the shirt and pin him against the wall, demanding that he listen to you. “I want to talk to you,” you stated firmly, this anger of yours manifesting itself in confidence.
Slowly, Sam swivelled around to face you. “What about?” he questioned in an annoyed tone.
You swallowed, taking another step towards him. Folding your arms across your body, you began to rant. “Why do you hate me, Sam? I’ve only ever been kind to you. I’m a pretty damn good hunter, even if I say so myself, so you can’t say I hold you back. And Dean and Cas like and respect me, so why can’t you? I understand that a lot of hunters don’t like working with others, but you’ve done so in the past, so you can’t use that as an excuse.” You stopped, staring at him expectantly. “Well? What have you got to say for yourself?”
“I don’t hate you,” he responded simply. He didn’t address any of the other things you had said, which infuriated you.
You let out a humourless laugh. “Wow, Sam. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. Maybe I should get you a dictionary for your next birthday. That way you can look up the definition of hate.” Sam stood up to face you.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “I honestly don’t hate you.”
“Then why are you always such a dick to me?” you whispered, on the brink of tears.
Sam blew out a long breath. “It’s just…we’ve had practically all of our friends die, Y/N. Simply because they were our friends. And I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. And if it doesn’t happen to you, then what does that mean about the others? Does it mean that they were somehow supposed to die?” he questioned rhetorically. “You hunting with us…I don’t know. It just somehow feels like a punch to the gut, reminding me of everyone else.”
You let your arms drop to your sides, unsure how to handle this revelation. “Sam,” you began slowly. “I’m not any of those people. I haven’t even really met any of them. And I know things have been really tough for you in the past, but you can’t hold that against me. I’m my own person and I have feelings. And quite frankly, I really don’t deserve to be treated like this.” You gazed up at him, waiting for a response. After a minute, it came. But not in the form of words - he instead offered his hand. “Sam?” you questioned.
“It’s a truce,” he explained. “A peace offering, whatever you want to call it. I’ve been a dick, and I’m sorry. So do you think we could start over? Try to be friends?”
You looked into his eyes, at the genuine regret and hopefulness you found there. Although being friends wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to be on good terms with Sam.
You reached out and shook his hand. “Friends,” you agreed.
~~~~~
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Hey, everyone! So right now, I am practically drowning in requests. Seriously. There are 27 currently in my ask box, and most are a couple of weeks old. And practically every time I post something, it seems like there is a new request waiting for me. So I’ve made a decision. I’m going to be closing my ask box for a little bit. It’ll probably only be for a week, tops. Just so that I can catch up on requests.
I’ll close it in about 13 hours, so if you have any requests, send them in quickly so they can get done! And I’m sorry for all those with outstanding requests. I’m trying, I really am.
Hi. I listened to both versions of the song that you mentioned, and I agree with you - the Ingrid Michaelson version is so beautiful! And if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you. I hope this imagine helps a bit.
~~~~~
The Impala growled to a halt at the bunker, the last bars of a Led Zeppelin song fading out as Dean put Baby into park. Sam swung open his door, stepping out of the car. He grabbed his bag from the trunk and headed inside. You got out with the intention of following him but found your way blocked by Dean.
“Could I talk to you for a minute?” he asked nervously.
“Sure,” you answered, settling yourself against the side of the Impala. “What’s up?”
Dean cupped the back of his neck with his hand. “I’m not really sure how to say this,” he admitted. You gave him a teasing smile.
“In English would be preferable.” Dean grinned back at you, but his smile soon dropped as he remembered what he had to tell you. You reached out to grab his hand, intertwining his fingers with your own. “Dean, whatever it is that you have to say, you can. This is a circle of trust,” you teased, trying to put him at ease. When he didn’t seem to relax any further, you added, “Dean, I’m serious. I won’t have a go at you for whatever you say. You can trust me.”
Dean took a deep breath, gathering his courage. He opened his mouth and said, “Alright. I’m just gonna say this now before I lose my nerve. I love you Y/N.” You stood there in shock, gaping up at him and hanging on to his every word as he continued. “I know that some people would say I’m in idiot for telling you this so soon, but I just can’t help it. I can’t help falling in love with you. Rivers flow out to sea, trees grow towards the sky, and I am in love with you. It was just meant to be.”
At the end of Dean’s speech, tears were running down your face. You reached up, wiping them off on the end of your sleeve. “No one’s ever said anything that beautiful to me before,” you whispered.
“Well, they should’ve,” Dean replied. “Because you’re beautiful.”
You smiled up at him softly. “I think that maybe it’s a good thing no one has ever said anything like that to me before. I’m glad it was you who said it.”
“Why?” Dean murmured, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly.
“Because maybe you’re not the only one who can’t help themselves.”
~~~~~
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Hi. I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever want to talk, my ask box is open. And I really hope this imagine helps, even if only a tiny bit.
~~~~~
You walked into the bunker, your arms loaded with shopping bags. “Hey, Sam?” you called out, peering over the top of the bags to where Sam was sitting on the couch. “Do you reckon you could help me carry some of these bags in?”
“Why don’t you just ask Dean?” he asked harshly, standing up and turning to head out of the room. His mouth was set in a hard line and his shoulders were stiff with tension.
“Why would I ask Dean?” you questioned, dropping the bags down on the kitchen counter. “He’s all the way on the other side of the bunker.” Sam whipped around, turning to face you with a furious expression.
“Oh, I don’t know. You just seem to be doing everything with him these days. Why not add packing away the groceries to the list?”
“What the hell, Sam?” You strode over to him, your hands planted on your hips. “Dean’s my friend. I hang out with him sometimes. I don’t see why it’s any of your business,” you added, jabbing your finger at him on the word ‘your’.
“I just think that if you want to get in his pants, you could be a little more subtle about it,” he spat. You staggered back, his words a slap in the face. You gaped at him. Where was the Sam you knew, the one who was always so sweet?
“Sam!” you exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with you? How could you say something like that?” Your heart ached, and you knew that your face must’ve mapped out an expression of hurt. Sam noticed this and his own expression softened slightly, his hand reaching out to brush against your arm.
“Y/N -”
“No!” You slapped his arm away. “You can’t just be horrible to me and then expect to make it all go away by touching my arm as some kind of peace offering!”
“I know, Y/N. And I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry,” he apologised, his eyes gazing at you sorrowfully.
You folded your arms across your chest. “Then why did you?” He didn’t answer and you cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting impatiently for an explanation. “Any time now, Sam.”
Sam glanced away, biting his lip in frustration. He turned back to you, evidently uncomfortable at having to provide an explanation. “I was jealous,” he burst out. “Happy?”
You dropped your arms, staring at him in surprise. Of all the responses you had predicted would come from him, this was one that had never been on the list. “You were what?”
“I was jealous, alright?” Sam repeated, clearly wishing for a change in subject. You straightened up, a slight grin curling the edges of your mouth.
“And why would you be jealous?” you asked in mock innocence, secretly pleased at Sam’s discomfort.
“Because I like you!” he exclaimed. “There. I said it. Is that good enough for you? I thought that the reason you and Dean have been hanging out so much was because you liked him. And I got angry because I like you, and it would kill me to see you start dating my brother!” He stopped, his chest heaving from his outburst. You stepped up to him, a full-blown grin now spread across your face.
“Do you want to know the real reason I’ve been spending so much time with Dean lately?” Sam nodded almost imperceptibly, seeming to dread what was going to come next. You stood up on your tiptoes, stretching up so that your mouth was in line with his ear. “I was getting his advice on how to ask you out,” you whispered.
“You - what?” Sam asked, staring at you in disbelief. “So this whole time I’ve been jealous of the two of you, I should’ve just come straight out and told you how I feel?”
You paused for a moment with your finger against your lips, pretending to contemplate his words. “Pretty much, yeah,” you told him.
“God, I’m such an idiot,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands. You grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away so that you could see him properly.
“I know,” you agreed, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Now help me with the rest of the groceries.”
~~~~~
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Hi. I’m good. How are you? I’m sorry for the wait, but it hope you like it.
Warnings; Reader is feeling very insecure.
~~~~~
You sat down on the lid of the toilet, your head cradled by the palms of your hands. Tears slipped down your cheeks and dripped onto your shoes, and your shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.
“Y/N?” Sam knocked on the door. “Are you alright? You’ve been in there a while.”
“N-no, I’m f-fine,” you answered weakly, running a shaky hand through your hair.
“You don’t sound fine,” Sam observed. “Can I come in?” You reached out, fingers fumbling against the lock. It clicked, and Sam swung the door open, stepping in and looking to where you sat.
“Hey, what’s wrong, beautiful?” he asked, crouching down on the ground in front of you. You shook your head at him, unable to respond. “Come on, you can tell me.” He brought his hands up to rest on either side of your face, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb.
“I suck,” you told him miserably, stray strands of hair hanging down around your face. He frowned at you in confusion, tucking the wisps of hair back behind your ears.
“What are you talking about?”
You took a deep breath, readying yourself to tell him everything. All the negative thoughts, all your fears, all your insecurities. They had been building up over the past few months and were finally boiling over. “I suck at hunting,” you explained. “I always stuff up and people get hurt. I’m never going to be like you and Dean. And then whenever we go out somewhere, there are all these pretty girls eyeing you off and I just know that I can’t compare to them. One day you’re going to look at me and think, ‘why is she even my girlfriend?’” You stopped abruptly, scared that you had overloaded Sam with information and scared him off.
“Y/N, I want you to listen to me,” he told you, gazing directly into your eyes. “You are one of the best hunters I’ve ever met. And I have come across a lot in my time. And for the record, you don’t want to be like Dean and I. Just remember that we’re the guys who opened the Gates of Hell and started the Apocalypse, just to name a couple of our greatest mistakes.”
“But you’re also the guys who fixed both those things,” you pointed out.
“True,” Sam agreed, smiling ruefully. “But we wouldn’t have had to if we didn’t stuff up in the first place. And about what you said after that? I look at you everyday and wonder why I love you.” You looked down, your vision blurring, the colours running together. Your worst fear had just come true. “Hey, look at me.” Sam titled your head back up to look at him. “Every time I ask myself that, I come up with a whole list of reasons why I love you. You’re smart, funny, sweet, badass, beautiful and about a million other things. And yes, you never could compare to those other girls. Because you’re a thousand times more perfect for me then any of them could ever be.”
Your eyes swam with tears again, but this time of the happy variety. “Really?” you asked softly.
Sam smiled. “Really.”
~~~~~
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It really depends. Like, if I’m at home with nothing else to do, I can get through at least five in a day. But if I have to go out, I might only write one or two. At the moment, I’m on holidays, so I’m able to get quite a few posted each day. Although I do get sidetracked a bit (I’m trying to get up to date with Once Upon A Time).
But I’ve got 26 requests to get through at the moment, with more and more coming in, so if you have sent in a request, it might take a week or so for it to be posted!
At the moment, I have 453.
Hi. I’m so, so sorry this wasn’t done sooner. I really hope it cheers you up. And if you need anything, message me.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: hints at anorexia, reader talks about their insecurities.
~~~~~
You were curled up on your bed in the bunker, watching reruns of your favourite TV show. You had the blankets tucked up around you and the remote clutched in your hand. Someone knocked on the door and you pressed the mute button. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Dean’s voice answered. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” you replied. He opened the door and stepped into your room, pulling the door closed behind him.
“Nice,” he said, nodding in approval at the band posters you had pinned up on the walls.
“Thanks. What’s up?”
Dean coughed nervously, coming over to sit at the end of your bed, being careful to avoid your feet. “I don’t really know how to say this,” he told you, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. His eyes darted around the room and you smiled up at him encouragingly, patiently waiting for him to say what was on his mind. “Y/N, we’ve known each other for a while now. And…I really like you. And I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me?” he asked carefully, each word coming out slowly.
You froze, staring at Dean like a deer in the headlights. “Oh, um, Dean…I’m flattered. Really, I am. It’s just…”
“Oh,” he said in disappointment, looking down and swallowing. “It’s okay, I understand. I just…never mind.” He started to get up, but you reached out to grab his arm.
“I don’t think you do understand,” you told him. “Dean, I really like you. I’d love to go out with you. But…”
“What is it?” he asked, concern spreading across his features. He say back down on the bed, his eyes focused intently upon you.
“Dean, I have a lot of insecurities. I mean,” you lowered your voice, “I can barely eat without hating myself. How am I supposed to be in a serious relationship with all those problems in my life? So many girls come up to you in bars and pretty much everywhere else, all looking to get your number. How am I supposed to compete with that?” You looked down, trying to hide the tears that had sprung to your eyes. “How am I supposed to handle that kind of pressure?”
“Y/N, look at me.” Dean’s hand reached out, gently cupping your chin and turning your face towards him. “None of those girls is any match for you. Trust me. You blow them all out of the water with your awesomeness.” You smiled at him weakly, sniffing back the tears. “And the other stuff you mentioned? We can get through that. Together. I promise I will never leave you on your own in this. Things are gonna get better.”
“Do you really think so?” you whispered, your voice cracking. Dean’s hands came to rest on your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears that had leaked from your eyes.
“I know so,” he confirmed. You wiped your sleeve across your nose, glancing him at him, at the determined look in his eyes.
“Then…maybe I’ll take you up on that date,” you told him, a soft smile spreading across your face. Dean grinned back at you, his eyes lighting up in joy.
“Awesome.”
~~~~~
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Hi. Sorry for the wait! I hope this is what you were after.
~~~~~
“Y/N, we’re going out to pick up some dinner,” Sam told you. “Will you be alright?”
“Sam,” you answered, getting up off your bed, “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” You walked over to him, draping your arms around his neck. You pulled him towards you and planted your lips on his in a slow, passionate kiss.
“I should go. Dean’s waiting in the car,” Sam mumbled against your lips. As if having heard Sam, Dean blared the Impala’s horn from outside, causing you to giggle and pull away from Sam.
“Alright. Bye.” You watched him as he headed out the door, locking it behind him. When the sound of the Impala’s engine had finally faded, you turned towards the table where Sam’s laptop rested, ready for you to do some research.
You sat down in the chair, opening up the laptop and logging in. You read over pages of information, the text swimming together and blurring before your eyes. For twenty minutes you carried on like this, the sound of your fingers hitting the keys being the only noise in the room. It was then that you noticed the room had become cold, so much so that your breath came out in a white cloud. The lights in the room flickered and you whipped your head around, looking for anything out of place.
Across the room, a silhouette seemed to be emerging, the image gradually strengthening. Before you stood a beautiful girl in her early twenties, with long, wavy blonde hair and a white nightgown. She could’ve been some sort of model. If it wasn’t for the dark, red stain spreading across her midsection.
You jumped up, fumbling around for the gun you had loaded with rock salt earlier in the evening. “Wait,” she girl said in a soft voice. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”
You laughed harshly. “Right. Well, I can’t afford to take that chance.” You picked up the gun, holding it up at her.
“Please!” she cried. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ve been watching over you and Sam.” You lowered your gun slightly, staring at the ghost in confusion. She smiled gently before continuing on. “You make him very happy. Thank you for that. Please just take care of him for me.” Those were the last words she uttered before vanishing, leaving you to scan the room, searching for any signs that the ghost was still around.
Eventually, you put the gun back down, returning to your place in front of the laptop. “That was weird,” you muttered, the sound of the Impala’s engine filling the parking lot again.
“Hey, Y/N,” Dean called, stepping into the motel room.
“Hey, guys,” you replied, standing up as Sam came into the room and walked over to give you a kiss.
“Anything happen while we were gone?” he asked.
“Uh, no,” you told him, deciding not to reveal the strange encounter which had just taken place. As Sam went to go sit down on your bed, he dropped his wallet, causing it to open as it hit the ground. You reached down to pick it up and saw a picture of you stuck into one of the slots. But right behind it, the corner of another photo stuck out. You reached into the pouch, pulling the hidden photo free. When you could see it properly, your breath in your throat. The picture was of a blonde girl on a beach, the very same blonde girl you had seen just minutes before. “Who’s this?” you asked shakily, holding the picture up for Sam to see.
He glanced up from the TV, his eyes filling with sadness as they fell upon the picture. “That was my girlfriend from college,” he told you. “She was…she was killed by a demon. Her name was Jess.”
~~~~~
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Hi. Thank you so much! That means a lot to me. I’m sorry this took so long to write. This is actually the first time I’ve ever written from the perspective of a non-original character, and I’m not entirely happy with the way Dean’s POV turned out. Also, I’m not entirely sure if I interpreted the song right, but I did my best. And omigosh…this song is so beautiful.
~~~~~
DEAN POV
When Y/N had first started hunting with the us a few months back, I tried so hard to push her away. She was just so sweet and innocent. So beautiful. I couldn’t let her become a part of my life, couldn’t let her get messed up in all my shit, especially when she’d probably end up dying because of me. I didn’t want her story to become a tragedy. But no matter how hard I tried to make her go, it was like she’d stubbornly planted her feet, refusing to leave.
I never thought I’d say this, but it’s like she’s rewritten my story. I thought she was delusional, wasting her time, but now…things look brighter, and I know she’s the one responsible. Every time I see her, I swear I fall a little bit more in love with her. And I can’t just stand to the side anymore. I have to tell her.
Y/N POV
You were in your bedroom in the bunker, sprawled across your bed with a book in your hands. You were just flicking to the next page when a hesitant knock sounded at the door. “Who is it?”
Dean’s head poked around the door. “It’s me.”
“What can I do for you?” you asked, taking your bookmark off the bedside table and slotting it between the pages of the book. You sat up and crossed your legs, patting the space beside you for him to sit on. He came over, lowering himself onto the space you had vacated.
“Look, Y/N…you know I hate chick flick moments, but I have to say this.” You gazed at him expectantly while he paused to gather his thoughts. “Y/N, I’ve stuffed up so many times. All my life, everything I did felt so wrong. And then…you came along. And I thought you’d be better off without me, that you should just leave. But you didn’t.”
“Dean,” you began, reaching for his arm.
“No, I need to say this. Please,” he interrupted. You nodded, taking your arm back to let him carry on. “Y/N, I’ll never know why, but you rescued me. You came to me when it was dark, and it was like you turned on the lights. You saved me. And I’ll never be able to stop thanking you for that.” He stopped again, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Y/N, every time I see you, it’s like nothing else matters. All I can think about is how beautiful you are. I’ve never been higher, and it’s because of you. I love you, Y/N.”
Tears swam in your eyes, and you blinked them back. “Dean,” you whispered, “do you really mean all of that?”
“Every word,” he murmured back. You threw your arms around him, burying your head into the crook of his shoulder. His arms wound their way around your waist and he pulled you tightly against him, burying his nose in your hair.
“That was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” you told him softly, your voice thick with unshed tears. “And Dean?” you added. “I love you, too.”
~~~~~
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Hi. I’m glad you liked it! I just hope this one is just as good.
~~~~~
“I’m going to go pick up some dinner,” Sam announced, standing up from the table where he’d been researching on his laptop for the past three hours. “Anyone wanna come with me?”
“I will,” you began, only to be cut off by a sharp glare from Sam. “I, um, actually I should probably stay here. I’ve got stuff to do,” you added on hastily, your eyes glued to the floor.
“I’ll go with you,” Dean told Sam, standing up and grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair. He followed Sam out the door, pausing only briefly to offer you a sympathetic look. Then he was gone, leaving you alone with Cas.
As awful as it seemed, you were used to being treated like this by Sam. Ever since you had started hunting with the Winchesters and Cas, Sam had made no secret of the fact that he hated you. If it was up to him, you probably wouldn’t be hunting with them at all. But Dean and Cas liked you, so you had stayed. However, that didn’t stop Sam from being horrible to you. He only shared case details with you on a need to know basis, said nasty things to you when you stuffed up on a hunt and did everything he could to avoid being alone with you. The worst part was that you couldn’t even find it in you to hate him back. You loved him.
Fortunately, Dean and Cas were always around to pick up the pieces when Sam was in one of his moods. The two of them seemed to have an unofficial roster going, taking turns to stay with you so that Sam wasn’t too horrible to you. You were grateful for all the support they provided. You just wished it wasn’t necessary.
“Y/N?” Cas asked, drawing you out of your thoughts. “Are you alright?” He came over to sit beside where you had slumped down on the motel bed, surrounded by rumpled sheets.
“Not really,” you admitted. A heavy sigh escaped you and you leaned back against the headboard. The bed shifted beside you and you turned to see that Cas had changed positions, swinging his feet up onto the bed so that he could face you.
“Did you want to talk about it?” he questioned in his gravelly voice.
“No. Yes. I don’t know,” you sighed. “It’s just…I love him, Cas. And that makes it ten times more awful.”
“Is it not possible to simply stop loving him?”
You gave him a sad smile. “I wish things could be as simple as you make them sound, Cas. But it doesn’t work that way. Love is weird. You can’t help who you fall for.” You looked down at your clasped hands, the fingers clenched together so tightly that the knuckles were white. “The thing is though, Sam is actually pretty great. Just…not to me. And I don’t want to love anyone else. I just wish he was nicer to me.”
Cas shuffled over to you, draping his arm protectively across your shoulders and pulling your body against his. It was a bit awkward at first, but just having him there with you helped. You tucked your head into his chest, burying your face in the folds of his trenchcoat.
“Y/N,” Cas began, “I have watched humans since the birth of your race. I won’t pretend to be an expert on human affairs, but I have learned a few things from my observations.” With your ear against his shirt, his voice came out muffled so you had to strain to hear everything he said. “And there is something I have learned that I feel I should share with you. No matter how you act towards others, you cannot help how they feel about you. That is ultimately their decision. However, you can choose to be around people who care about you and make you happy. I believe that that is what you should do.”
You pulled your head back, craning your neck to look up at Castiel’s caring expression, sending him a soft smile. “Didn’t you realise, Cas? I’ve already done that. I’ve got you and Dean.”
~~~~~
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Hi. Your wish is my command! I hope the wait was worth it.
~~~~~
“Y/N? Come on, wake up.” Slowly, you began to regain consciousness, Dean’s voice reaching into the deep waters of sleep and pulling you out. You felt yourself being rocked and realised that Dean had his hand on your shoulder and was shaking you, trying to rouse you from your slumber.
You sat up slowly, running your fingers through your hair to pull it back from your face. Blinking sleepily, you glanced around the room, noticing the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, lighting up the dated motel furniture. “What time is in?” you muttered groggily, pushing back the covers.
“It’s about 9:30,” Dean answered, causing you to look up at him in surprise.
“9:30? Huh. You actually let me sleep in for a change. And you didn’t throw a pillow at me to wake me up,” you observed. “What’s the deal, Winchester?”
“Nothing,” Dean shrugged. “What, I can’t just be nice for a change without having having my motives questioned?” You eyed him warily, checking to see if this was some kind of trap or prank.
“I suppose you can,” you answered. “And thanks. The sleep in was nice,” you added, heading towards the motel’s kitchenette. “Woah! What’s going on this morning? First Dean letting me sleep in, and now you’re making pancakes?”
Sam stood before you, a bowl of batter on the counter beside him and the frying pan in front of him. He stood with a spatula in hand, flipping over a pancake before transferring it to a plate. “Yeah. Aren’t they your favourite?” he asked, sliding the plate across the counter towards you.
“Um, yeah. Yeah they are,” you answered, picking up the bottle of maple syrup and pouring some across your pancake. You began to tuck into it, but after a few bites, you lowered your cutlery.
“Is it not cooked through?” Sam asked in concern. You shook your head, swallowing the piece that was in your mouth.
“No, it’s fine. Great, actually. But it’s just…” You trailed off, not sure how to pose your question. By this point, Dean had come over as well, and he lowered himself into the chair beside you.
“What’s wrong?” he queried, giving you a once over to check for any signs of harm. Sam had lowered the spatula and he, too, was watching you.
“There’s nothing wrong! I just don’t understand why you’re both being so nice to me!” At their looks of confusion and hurt, you hurried on. “Not that I don’t think you’re mean to be or anything, but you’ve got to admit, you’re both being weird this morning. You’re acting completely different than usual. And whilst the sleep in and pancakes are great, I just want to know why.”
You gazed at the brothers expectantly, hoping for an answer. The two of them exchanged a glance, before directing their gaze elsewhere. Sam looked down at the pancakes, prodding at them to see if they were cooked. Dean stared into his coffee mug, swishing it around. After a couple of minutes, you finally decided to break the silence. “Is there something you guys aren’t telling me?”
Dean cleared his throat, before starting to speak. “Actually, Y/N, Sammy and I were talking last night and we found out that, um…” He glanced up at Sam for assistance.
“It turns out that we both have feelings for you,” Sam stated, picking up where Dean had left off. You sat in stunned silence, processing this revelation. You opened and closed your mouth several times, trying to work out how to respond.
“So you guys are treating me like this because you’re trying to impress me?” you finally asked. When they both nodded, you sucked in a sharp breath. “Wow, um, I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s alright,” Sam assured you. “There’s no pressure on you or anything.” Dean nodded in agreement. It was this action that drove you to your decision.
“Look, guys…you’re both great. And I love you both. Just not in that way. But even if I did, I don’t think I could go out with either of you. I just couldn’t pull you both apart like that,” you explained. Both boys looked down, attempting to hide their disappointment. “I’m really sorry. To both of you.”
“Don’t be,” Dean answered, looking up at you. “It’s not your fault. You can’t help the way you feel. And what you said…well, I think you make a very good point. I don’t think I could ever go out with you knowing Sam likes you, and I’m sure he feels the same way.”
“Exactly,” Sam agreed. “Did you want another pancake?”
“Am I still allowed to have one?” you joked.
“Of course,” Sam assured you. “You’re our friend, and friends make each other pancakes.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” You grinned, helping yourself to the fresh pancake Sam handed to you.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi! I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope you like it!
~~~~~
You and Dean were sitting in the front seat of the Impala, driving back to the bunker. The dark expanse of road stretched out before you for as far as you could see and at this time of night, you were the only ones on the road. AC/DC was blaring out through the speakers yet again, and you sighed in exasperation. “Dean, can’t we listen to something else?”
“Hey, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole,” he stated, cutting you a glance from the corner of his eye.
“Dean,” you whined, desperate to listen to something different.
“Fine,” he huffed, gesturing to a box sitting at your feet. “There’s some stuff in there. Pick something.” You grinned, reaching down to pick up the box. You settled it into your lap and started rifling through the cassettes, looking for some music that appealed to you. Finally, you found something good and popped it into the slot.
“What did you pick?” Dean asked as you put the box back on the floor.
“You’ll see!” you chirped. The opening bars filled the air and Dean groaned. “Hey, no dissing the song,” you told him, reaching over and turning up the music. As the lyrics began, you sang along to them. “She’s my cherry pie! Cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise!” You looked over and saw Dean shaking his head in exasperation at you whilst his eyes stayed on the road. You nudged him. “Sing with me! I know you know the words.” Dean sighed dramatically, but joined in none the less.
“SHE’S MY CHERRY PIE! OH YEAH! SHE’S MY CHERRY PIE! PUT A SMILE ON YOUR FACE, TEN MILES WIDE!” You were both singing at the top of your lungs, rocking out before an imaginary audience. You were dancing in your seat while Dean beat his hands against the steering wheel. When the end of the song came, you both burst out laughing, sending each other huge grins.
“God, you’re such an idiot,” Dean laughed. “But that’s why I love you.” He suddenly froze, the grin slipping from his face, and he stared straight ahead, not taking his eyes off the road.
“You what?” you asked, startled at what he’d just said. It was incredibly rare for Dean to say things like that. Whilst he often showed his affection, he rarely ever stated it outright.
Dean hesitated for a moment, then seemed to decide something. He straightened up, glancing at you as he drove. “I love you,” he repeated. “I have for a while now but I just didn’t want to say anything. But when I saw you singing along like that…I couldn’t hold it back anymore.”
You grinned at him, a soft blush creeping along your cheekbones. “I wish I’d picked the music sooner,” you told him in a soft voice. You didn’t need to say anything else. He knew what you meant.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. I think Sam would love her anyway as well. And I’m so sorry for the wait. I hope it was worth it.
Warnings: Reader is self-conscious about her weight, there is a flashback to bullying about the reader’s weight.
~~~~~
You looked around the diner at all the young, pretty waitresses. Girls with gorgeous hair, the perfect figure and who could pull off just about any look. They were the kind of girls that Sam always seemed to go for. Girls completely unlike you, with your immense height that dwarfed half the guys you met, and your curves. Well, that was the polite way of putting it. Even as a kid, you’d been bullied for being overweight.
——
“Hey, Y/N!” a voice called out. You turned to find a group of popular kids a few tables away staring at you. They were the girls everyone wanted to be, and the guys everyone wanted to be with. Most of them had smirks on their faces, and a few were even whispering to each other, casting glances in your direction every few moments. You looked down at your plate, dreading how this exchange would go.
“What is it?” you called back.
Drew, the captain of the football team, stood up and began sauntering towards your table. As he passed his team mates, a few reached up to offer him high fives, whilst most of the girls giggled at him as he walked by. “My friends and I,” he began, glancing back at his table with a smirk, “were just talking to the lunch ladies, and much to our disappointment, we were told that all the doughnuts had gone.”
You crossed your arms across your body, looking down to avoid eye contact with him. “Why are you telling me this?” you asked quietly, knowing that some snide remark was sure to come.
“Well, we were told that if we wanted doughnuts, there were plenty over here at your table. Apparently you’re a regular with the lunch ladies. You’re even known to some as the ‘Doughnut Girl.’” His friends burst out laughing, cheering him on. Some even began to pound the table and chant ‘Doughnut Girl,’ causing several groups of students across the cafeteria to join in.
You bit your lip, pushing back from your table and fleeing from the cafeteria, leaving your uneaten lunch behind. “Why the rush?” Drew shouted out to you above the noise of the other students. “Was there a special at McDonald’s or something?” You picked up the pace at these words, wanting to escape the cafeteria before the tears started to stream down your face.
Finally, you locked yourself in one of the cubicles in the bathroom, the sound of ‘Doughnut Girl’ ringing in your ears.
——
“Y/N? Y/N!” you jumped in your seat, looking up to see Sam staring at you from across the table. You blinked a couple of times, trying to clear the memories from your mind.
“Um, sorry, I zoned out for a bit. What were you saying?”
“I was asking which size fries you wanted,” Sam said. You turned your gaze downward, suddenly ashamed to be ordering something so fatty. Sam was one of the sweetest guys you’d ever met and although he’d never say anything, you knew that he had to be thinking the same thing your classmates had all thought. You were fat.
“Actually, I don’t think I want the fries anymore,” you told him, avoiding eye contact. You glanced down at the menu, picking the first thing that caught your eye. “I think I’ll have a garden salad instead.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow, glancing at you questioningly. “Are you sure?” When you nodded in response, he called over a waitress and placed your order. When she went off to the kitchen, Sam turned his attention back to you. “What’s wrong?”
“Why would you think something was wrong?”
“For starters, when you zoned out before, you looked pretty upset,” he answered. “And then you decided not to order the fries, even though yesterday you claimed that they were the best fries you had ever had.” Sam was looking at you intently, studying your features. “You know you can tell me if something’s up.”
“Nothing’s up. I just thought that I should probably start watching my weight,” you told him, tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt.
“What?” Sam exclaimed, looking genuinely surprised. “Why would you need to watch your weight? You’re in great shape!”
You glared at him. “Maybe diner dinners and take outs every night work for you, but not everyone can be so lucky,” you said witheringly. Sam gazed back at you in confusion, understanding slowly creeping over his features.
“You think you’re fat,” he announced. You didn’t answer, which he took as confirmation. “Y/N, why would you think that? You’re beautiful. And you have a great body! I mean, you seriously rock those curves -”
You scoffed, cutting him off. “Curvy is pretty much a synonym for fat.” You looked up to find Sam shaking his head in disbelief. He reached across the table and clasped your hands between his own.
“Y/N, I want you to listen to me right now. You are not fat,” he stated firmly. “You know what you are? Tall, curvy and beautiful. How could you possibly think otherwise?”
“Everyone I went to school with used to tell me I was fat,” you murmured, swallowing the lump in your throat. Sam looked outraged, and you continued on before he could make a comment. “They called me ‘Doughnut Girl.’ And then you always seem to go after all the skinny, model-type girls.”
Sam frowned at you, trying to read the meaning of your words. “What have I got to do with any of this?”
You smiled weakly. “I thought you were smart, Sammy.”
Realisation dawned upon him, and his fingers tightened their grip on your hands. “Y/N, do you like me?” You nodded slowly, afraid of his reaction. Your worst fears were confirmed when he started laughing. You were about to snap at him, but he started speaking again. “God, I thought my feelings were only one way!”
“Wh-what?” you asked shakily, stunned by his response.
“I’ve liked you for ages,” he explained. “You’re so smart, and funny, and kind and sexy. I never thought you could ever be interested in me.” A grin broke out across your face, and your heart picked up its pace. A waitress walked by, and you signalled to her to get her attention.
“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.
“Um, yeah,” you answered, sending a quick glance in Sam’s direction. “Do you think we could have a side of fries?”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! And you guys are all beautiful, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Also, I’m sorry if anyone called Drew is reading this. I’m sure you’re a lovely person.
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
I’ve actually been thinking recently that I need to do that. So when I write some more imagines tomorrow, I’ll try to keep that in mind.
Thank you so, so much for taking a moment to let me know your thoughts. It really helps to have people giving me feedback.
Hi. I’m sorry this took a while to write. And I know virtually nothing about drugs, so I’m sorry if there were any mistakes or whatever.
I must say, I’m actually really pleased with how this turned out. I’m a lot happier with it than I have been with recent imagines.
Warning: Drug use.
~~~~~
You lit up another joint, allowing the buzz to wash over you. It had been a long day. You, Sam and Dean had gone to hunt down a spirit, but before you had managed to gank it, it had attacked, killing two young children. There was nothing more you could’ve done, but you still felt guilty. You needed something to take the edge off, and that’s when you’d pulled out the stash of weed you kept hidden in your duffel bag.
You didn’t smoke it regularly, just when hunting got a bit too much. You’d never told the boys about it, but not because you were ashamed. You just didn’t feel like it was any of their business. This was your private indulgence, no one else’s.
Looking around, you noticed things about your bedroom that you’d never payed attention to before. The marijuana-induced high had brought things into clarity, sharpening the corners of the furniture, enhancing the colour of your posters.
Unfortunately, it also sharpened your hearing, so when someone started pounding on your bedroom door, you had to cover your ears to block out the harsh sound. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing in there? What’s that smell?”
You froze, staring at the joint resting between your fingers. You knew that there was no way you could hide it from him, especially when you knew that he was about to come bursting through your door at any moment.
The moment the thought had entered your mind, Dean pushed your door open and strode into the room. He came to a halt just before your bed, eyes drawn to your hands.
“Y/N, are you smoking weed?” His voice came out tight, as if he was simultaneously trying to force the words out whilst keeping more words held in. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his face was slowly turning a deep shade of red.
You decided to come clean. “Yes, Dean, I am.”
“What the hell, Y/N?” Dean yelled. “Why would you do that?”
“What’s the big deal?” you exclaimed. You stood up, walking over so that you and Dean were face to face.
“What’s the big deal? The big deal is that I just found out my girlfriend does drugs!”
“So? It’s not like I do it all the time. Just every so often, to take the edge off!”
“Take the edge off? There are better ways of doing that, you know,” Dean stated.
You scoffed. “What, like drinking my way into oblivion like you do? No thanks, I’m fine doing things this way.”
Dean’s whole body was taut, as though every ounce of his energy was going into refraining from lashing out in some way. He glared down at you, infuriated by your words. “At least when I drink, I’m not doing myself harm.”
“Um, hello? Liver failure? Ever heard of it?” you asked. You gazed up at Dean, refusing to back down. “Dean, the way I see it, smoking a joint every so often isn’t going to do me much harm. And I’m responsible about it. It’s not like I do it before a hunt or anything. I’d never risk someone else’s safety.”
“Why?” Dean asked abruptly, throwing off your train of thought.
“Why what?”
“Why do you do it?” Dean repeated, being more clear about his meaning. “You said it’s to take the edge off. The edge off what?”
You sighed, all fight leaving your body. “Sometimes…sometimes hunting gets a bit much. And I just need to lose myself a bit. Get away from it all. And today…after what happened to those kids…today was one of those days.”
Dean’s expression softened, and he took a step towards you. “Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong?”
“Because I knew you and Sam were affected by it too and I didn’t want to bother you. Especially not when I have my own way of dealing with it.” Dean frowned down at the joint in disapproval, causing you to let out a sigh. “Look, Dean, I know you don’t like it, but this is just what I do. Alcohol helps you, marijuana helps me. That’s just the way it is.”
“What if it wasn’t the way things were?”
“Dean -”
“Just hear me out,” he cut in. “I drink when I feel like crap. And it’s the same for you with weed. But maybe…maybe those shouldn’t be our first choices. Maybe the next time I head for the liquor cabinet, I should turn around and head for your bedroom. And the next time you feel like lighting a joint, you should come find me. We can help each other out.”
“I thought you didn’t like chick flick moments,” you teased.
“Hey, even action movies have romantic subplots,” Dean pointed out. You took a step back, glancing up at him with your eyebrows raised in amusement. “Did I just say that?”
“Yep!” you sang.
“Whatever. My point is, we’re in a relationship. And that means we should help each other out when things get a bit too much. What do you say?”
You looped your arms around Dean’s neck, drawing him in towards you. You looked up into his green eyes, finding them gazing right back at you. “I think that that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”
~~~~~
Thank you so much for reading! And like I said in my last post, I would really love to get some feedback.
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hey, everyone! Sorry to interrupt your blogging. And I realise this isn’t an update, but I’m currently working on an imagine which should be up within the next hour or so.
What I want to know is this: what do you all think of my writing? And no, this isn’t just some cheap way of fishing for compliments. I genuinely want your opinions. The good, the bad and the ugly. But I especially want CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM.
You see, it’s my dream to become an author when I grow up (sooner rather than later, I hope). But if I want to do that, I need to start honing in my writing skills now. That’s why I created this blog - to practise my writing.
The problem is, right now, I’m starting to notice problems with my work. I’m starting to see a lot of weaknesses and areas for improvement. So please, please, PLEASE send me constructive criticism. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. Tell me what I’m doing right. Tell me what I should improve on. Give me suggestions. It would mean the world to me.
I realise that if you’re viewing this on the web rather than the app, it says ‘Request An Imagine’ on the sidebar. But I am totally cool with it if you want to send opinions to me there. PLEASE DO SO.
Seriously, guys. It would honestly mean the world to me if you could take a moment to send me some feedback to improve my writing. I’d love you forever.
Anyway, I realise that this was a REALLY long message, and I’m sorry for that. But I just want to get your help in improving my writing. So thank you for sticking with me.
Hi! Thank you so much! That really means a lot to me. I’m sorry this imagine took a while to write. I hope you like it!
~~~~~
You turned around at the sound of fluttering wings. “Gabriel?” you gasped, your eyes widening in shock. “What the hell? I thought you were dead!”
“Death is so…boring. Doesn’t suit me at all.”
“But how…?”
He brushed your question aside. “So many questions. Just go with it.”
You straightened up again. “Sam and Dean will probably be back soon. I suppose you could wait for them, but I don’t know how they’d react…”
“Actually,” Gabriel cut in, “it was you I was hoping to see.”
“Me? Why would you come to see me?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re pretty hot. I thought we could get to know one another.” Gabriel sauntered towards you, a cocky grin plastered on his face.
“Actually, I don’t know about that. I’m with Sam. I love him,” you explained, backing up until your back met the wall.
“What a shame. We could always just not tell him.” Gabriel leaned towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close.
“Gabriel -”
“What the hell is this?” Sam demanded. You looked around Gabriel to find Sam striding into the motel room, a furious expression on his face.
“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Gabriel announced, vanishing into thin air.
“What are you doing here, Sam?” you asked shakily. “I thought you and Dean weren’t going to be back for another half hour.”
“Oh, so that makes it okay for you to go around kissing other guys, huh?”
“No, Sam. You don’t understand -”
“You’re right,” Sam interrupted. “I don’t understand. How could you do that to me? I thought you loved me! But now you’re going around cheating on me? How long has this been going on, huh? Did you know Gabriel was still alive this whole time?”
“Sam!” you yelled. “I literally found out that he was still alive five minutes ago. And I wasn’t cheating on you! I’d never do that!”
“It didn’t look that way to me.”
“That’s because you came in at the wrong time!” you exclaimed. “Sam, he just appeared in the room and tried to kiss me. But I said no! I told him that I love you!”
“So…you aren’t cheating on me?” Sam confirmed.
You sighed in exasperation. “No, Sam, I wasn’t. Although I’ve gotta say, it kind of hurts that you don’t seem to trust me.”
“Oh, no. Of course I trust you,” Sam assured you. “It’s just…relationships don’t really work out for me. I got jealous and I assumed the worst. I’m sorry.”
Your expression softened. “Hey, it’s okay,” you told him, drawing him into your arms. “Just promise me that if anything like that happens again, you’ll hear me out first.”
“I promise. As long as you let me kill Gabriel next time I see him.”
You burst out laughing. “Good luck with that.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. I’m really sorry about the wait! But I hope you like this, although I felt the ending was a bit weak.
~~~~~
You gazed up at Dean. “You did a seriously good job of taking down those vamps. I could never take down that many at once.”
“Maybe if you didn’t slack off during training all the time, you’d stand a chance,” he replied.
“Dean,” Sam said reproachfully as you flushed, ducking your head in shame.
“I’m just telling it like it is, Sammy. Now let’s get in the car and go back to the bunker.” When you didn’t move straight away, Dean grabbed your shoulder and shoved you towards the car.
As the Impala sped off, you hunched down in the back seat, letting the music and conversation wash over you.
—-
“I thought that hunt went pretty well,” Dean announced, striding into the bunker and dropping his bag onto the floor. “Although it could’ve gone better if certain people pulled their weight.”
Something in you snapped. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Dean Winchester?”
“Excuse me?” he answered.
“Y/N,” Sam began.
You cut him off. “Could you please give Dean and I a minute?” Sam nodded and walked out of the room, glancing back at you in concern.
“Why are you like this with me?” you demanded, angrily brushing away the tears that were spilling down your face.
“Are you crying?” Dean asked in astonishment.
“Yes, Dean, I’m crying. Because I’m HUMAN. You know what else humans do? They make mistakes! But that doesn’t give you the right to criticise every little thing I do!”
“Y/N -”
“No. I don’t want to hear it,” you interrupted. A harsh laugh escaped you. “You know what the worst part is? You always pick on me, and shove me, and make snide remarks about me. But despite all that, I like you, Dean. I’ve got a big, stupid crush on you. Not that it matters, because you apparently haven’t realised that I’m not one of the guys!”
“Look -”
“I’m not finished!” you yelled in a shrill voice. “All I ever do is try to impress you, earn your respect. But all you ever do is treat me like shit. But I keep trying, and I hate myself for it!”
“Y/N, please just listen to me,” Dean pleaded. “I only treat you like that because I’m trying to protect you!”
“What kind of fucked up logic is that, Winchester?” you whispered fiercely.
“I admit, it’s stupid. But you shouldn’t be hunting! It’s dangerous, Y/N!”
“You think I don’t realise that?”
“Apparently not, because you still do it!” he exclaimed.
“So do you!” you yelled back.
“But I don’t want you getting hurt because I’m in love with you!” he burst out.
“You - what?” You didn’t know how to continue. Dean had completely thrown you off with this latest revelation.
“I’m in love with you,” he repeated. “And like an idiot, I thought that if I made you think you sucked at hunting, you’d give it up and you could be safe. I was wrong, okay? But I was only trying to protect you!”
“Dean, if you want to protect me, teach me to throw knives, or shield me from monsters or something,” you explained. “But this? Making me feel like shit? That’s only going to hurt me more, just in different ways.”
“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he murmured, stepping towards you.
“I’m sure you are, Dean,” you told him, taking a step back. “But don’t just think that we can kiss and make up and all this can be forgotten. If you want to put this behind us, then you need to sort yourself out and start treating me with respect.” Dean smiled. “What?”
“It’s just, that’s exactly why I love you. You don’t take shit from anyone.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve put up with plenty from you in the past. But that stops now. You have to prove yourself to me.”
“Deal.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. I’m so, so sorry you’ve had to wait so long for this. I just really didn’t know how to write this. But I hope I’ve done a good job on it!
~~~~~
Y/N POV
“You ready?” Sam asked.
“Yep,” you replied, gripping the handle of your silver knife.
“You be careful, alright?” Dean said. “I don’t want you getting hurt. And remember, when we get inside the sewers, don’t go too far in. Let Sammy and I search for the shifter. You just be on guard in case we need a hand, alright?”
“Yes, Dean. I know. You’ve only gone over the plan a thousand times.”
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Dean pulled you in for a kiss. “Alright. Let’s go.”
You did as Dean asked, hanging back just inside the entrance to the sewers. The boys had been gone for quite a few minutes and your feet were getting tired, but you didn’t dare lean back against the wall, for fear of getting sewer slime on you.
The sound of dripping rang out through the tunnels, and you desperately wished the boys would come back soon. The cold and stench of the sewers was really getting to you.
A footstep sounded out in the tunnel behind you. “Oh thank God,” you sighed. “I thought you guys would never -” You froze. It wasn’t Sam and Dean approaching you.
“That’s cute,” the shifter began, sauntering towards you. “You didn’t realise it was me. You know what else is cute? Those hunters you’re with. Sam and Dean, was it? I might just try to get a behind the scenes glimpse. Now let’s see. How could I possibly convince them to take me home with them? Hmm.” The shifter frowned, placing a finger on its chin in mock contemplation. “Oh, I know! I could always pretend to be you!”
“You bitch,” you spat. You charged towards it, bringing the knife up, ready to plunge it into her heart. However, at the last second, the shifter moved, hissing in pain as your knife grazed her forearm.
“You are so going to regret that.” In a flash, the shifter had you pinned to the ground, the knife clattering towards the other side of the tunnel.
“Get off me!” you grunted, thrusting your body upwards to push her off.
“I don’t think so.” The shifter turned you over and began to bind you with some rope from the floor of the tunnel. You struggled to free yourself, but the shifter was much stronger than you were expecting, as well as being in a better position than you.
“Y/N?” Dean called out.
“Show time,” the shifter murmured in your ear. She dragged you further into the tunnel, changing into you as she did. “I’m here!” she called out to Dean.
“You all right?”
“Yeah, sure,” she replied, moving back to the tunnel’s entrance. “Except that you guys took forever. It’s freezing down here. Not to mention the smell. Did you kill it?”
“No. We think it’s out going after another victim,” Sam replied, coming into view.
“I’m just glad you both are safe.” The shifter stepped over to Dean, running her hands up his chest and pulling him into a long, passionate kiss.
“Really, guys?” Sam complained.
“Shut up, Sam,” Dean responded. “Just lead the way up. We can come back another time.” As the brothers climbed up out of view, the shifter turned back, sending a taunting smirk in your direction.
Third Person POV
Dean flopped onto the motel’s bed. “God, I was hoping that’d be over already. I can’t believe we have to keep searching!”
“Yeah, and in the meantime, more people are probably going to die,” Sam added.
“Guys, shit happens. Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Y/N said.
“You’re right,” Dean answered. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed off. Did you want to take the shower first?”
“Yeah, sure,” Y/N replied, stepping into the small bathroom.
“Huh,” Sam said.
“What is it?”
“She forgot her body wash. She uses that religiously after every hunt.” He pulled it out of Y/N’s duffel bag, then knocked on the bathroom door. “Y/N?”
“What?” she called out over the noise of the shower.
“You forgot your body wash.”
“Oh. Thank you,” she answered, reaching her hand around the door to get it. When she’d pulled it back in and the door was shut, Dean turned to Sam.
“Sammy, does she seem different to you?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, for one thing, she forgot her body wash,” Dean explained. “And for another, did you see the way she acted in the car? She didn’t seem to know any words to the music, even though I’ve played those songs a thousand times. And did you see her just before we got out of the sewers? I mean, I’m not complaining or anything, but she doesn’t normally kiss me like that in front of you.”
“So what are you - crap,” Sam swore.
“You reckon she’s the shifter, too?” Dean confirmed, already moving towards the bathroom door.
“Definitely.”
Dean kicked down the bathroom door, moving aside to let Sam in with the knife. “Damn it!” Sam exclaimed.
“What is it?” Instead of answering, Sam just pointed towards the open window. “We better get moving then,” Dean added grimly, heading off in the direction of the Impala.
Y/N POV
Footsteps clattered down the ladder into the sewers. “Hello?” you called out. “Can someone help me?”
“Nope, it’s me again,” your voice called back.
“I have way too big a headache to deal with this,” you moaned, watching your own figure approach.
“There are ways to erase headaches,” the shifter smirked, the gleam of a blade coming from her right hand. When she got close to you, you swung your legs out, causing her to topple over, hitting her head against the wall.
You rolled across the floor, fumbling for the knife she had dropped. You finally managed to wrap your fingers around the handle, awkwardly manoeuvring the blade towards the rope binding your wrists. The shifter must have been in a hurry when she bound you, because the ropes fell away relatively quickly.
You leaped up, preparing to attack the shifter when a thump came from the sewer’s entrance. “Y/N? Are you down here?” Dean’s voice rang out.
“Dean!” you rushed forward, diving into his arms. Your voice came out muffled against his shoulder. “Thank God you’re here.”
“Sam. Dean,” the shifter croaked out feebly from the shadows of the tunnel. “Help me. The shifter…it attacked me. It had me tied up.”
Sam and Dean’s eyes darted back and forth between you and the shifter. “Uh, Dean? You might just want to think twice before you start stabbing anyone,” Sam warned.
“You mean, you don’t recognise me?” the shifter asked, stumbling into the faint light coming in from above. “Dean…it’s me. You have to believe me.”
Dean’s eyes were pained. “No,” you interjected. “You can’t just tie me up and make out with my boyfriend, and then try to take over my life. Because you know what? The boys aren’t the only badasses in this little trio. I’m pretty good too, even if I say so myself.” You turned to Dean. “Cut me.”
“What?”
“I said cut me!” you repeated impatiently. “It’s the only way to prove I’m not a shifter.” Dean eyed you warily, before grabbing your arm and pulling it closer.
“No,” the shifter cried out, darting forward. Sam grabbed her, holding her back while Dean dragged the knife across your arm. When nothing unusual happened, he spun around, lashing out at the shifter with the knife. It sunk into her chest, sending her body crumpling into ground.
“Thank you for saving me,” you whispered, pulling Dean into your arms for a second time. When he didn’t respond, you pulled back. “Dean? What’s wrong?”
“It looks like you,” he whispered, his gaze fixated on the shifter. “I stabbed a shifter, and now your body is lying on the ground with a knife sticking out of your chest.”
“Dean, look at me. Dean,” you demanded, turning his face to look at you. “It does look like me. But it’s not. I am right here, touching you. Can you feel that, my warmth? That’s because I’m still alive. I’m safe, and it’s because of you.”
Dean continued staring at you for another few moments, before pulling you tightly against him. “Promise me I’ll never have to see your body lying on the ground like that,” he murmured, clutching you tightly.
“I promise.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I was going to write more today, but I had to spend my first proper day of the school holidays at an all day drama rehearsal. Damn. But it was actually quite fun, so I shouldn’t really be complaining.
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. Thanks for the request. I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get around to writing it!
~~~~~
Sam shot up in bed, sweat glistening on his forehead. Light was barely streaking in through the gap between the curtains, revealing a sparsely furnished motel room.
“You alright, Sammy?” Dean asked. “You have another nightmare or something?”
“Dean…I think I had another vision,” Sam gasped out.
“What?” Dean put his coffee mug down on the table. “Sammy, I thought that all ended when we killed Azazel.”
“Yeah, well, apparently not,” Sam answered bitterly.
“So what did you see, anyway?”
“I saw a demon torturing and murdering a woman.”
“What’s so special about her?” Dean asked. “I mean, why are you dreaming about her? After all these years, why is this woman the one you have a vision about?”
“Dean…it was Y/N,” Sam replied slowly.
Dean’s face blanched. “Like, my ex girlfriend, Y/N?”
“The one and only.” Sam got out of bed and started throwing some things into his duffel. “Can you pass me the keys to the Impala?”
“Why would I give you Baby’s keys?”
Sam looked at Dean in exasperation. “So I can go help her. Did you honestly expect me to just leave her to die?”
“Of course not!” Dean responded in indignation. “I just don’t see why I should give you the keys when I’ll be driving.”
Sam eyed Dean. “I just didn’t figure you’d want to go. Not after the break up and all.”
“Sammy,” Dean said. “We broke up. That doesn’t mean I… Never mind. Let’s go.”
—-
Y/N POV
You stirred in the egg, humming as you combined the cake batter. A thumping sound from the living room made you turn around, frowning to yourself. You wondered if perhaps the wind had knocked something over, but you were sure that you’d shut all the windows.
You wandered through to the next room, looking around cautiously. However, you stopped dead when you saw a woman standing there. “Can I - can I help you?”
A wicked grin spread across the stranger’s face. “I reckon so.” Her eyes flicked black, causing you to emit a short scream.
You backed up, heading towards the kitchen to get some salt. Even though your relationship with Dean hadn’t worked out, you’d be an idiot not to remember the things he’d taught you about monsters, and not try to defend yourself. For a moment, you wished Dean was here. He would’ve known what to do.
“Trying to escape from me? I don’t think so.” The demon lunged for you, knocking you to the ground.
“Get off me!” you screamed. Your eyes widened in fear as she pulled out a knife.
“Maybe later,” she answered. Suddenly, her body seized up, and her mouth opened in a silent scream as her whole body flashed with orange light.
You frantically wrestled her body off you once it went limp, crawling away from it as fast as you could.
“You okay?” A hand came to rest lightly on your shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” you screamed, pushing it off you. Looking up, you found yourself face to face with a familiar pair of green eyes. “Dean?”
“Hey, Y/N. Long time no see,” he joked.
“Yes, well. There was a reason for that,” you answered, easing yourself off the ground. “In fact, I was kind of hoping the time would be even longer. Although I am glad you showed up when you did. So thank you for that.”
“No problem. But are you okay? Did it hurt you?” he asked, running his eyes over you in concern.
“I’m fine, Dean,” you answered shortly. “Why are you here?”
“Sammy had a vision of the attack. We came to save you,” he explained.
“Where is Sam?”
“He went out to the car. He thought he’d give us some privacy to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you replied stiffly.
“For you, maybe. But I have a lot of questions. Why did you leave. I thought…I thought things were going well. And then one day you just decide to pack your bags and leave?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Really? Because it sure seemed that way to me.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Dean, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You don’t want to talk about? Well that’s great and all, but right now, I could really use some answers.”
Rage boiled up inside you. “You want answers, Dean? Here’s one. I thought I was going to get you killed because I’d hold you back due to my lack of hunting abilities! How about another? Everywhere we went, there was always some pretty girl who was all over you and I knew that one day, you’d reciprocate their feelings. And for another thing, you always talked about how ‘hunters can’t have relationships’ and all that crap. I hear you talk about how things didn’t work out with Lisa and Ben. I hear Sam talking about what happened to Jess. I figured you’d just break things off with me eventually to avoid all that crap!”
Dean gaped at you. “Did you really think all that?”
“Yes, Dean, I did. And why wouldn’t I? It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Maybe, if it weren’t for the fact that I love you!” he burst out.
“Present tense,” you murmured.
“What was that?”
You cleared your throat. “You said 'love’. That’s present tense,” you repeated, a little louder this time. “Is it true? Do you still love me? After all these months?”
“I never stopped.”
“Then why didn’t you do something? Why didn’t you come racing after me in the Impala with your stupid music blaring out of the speakers?” you choked out, the lump in your throat making it hard for you to speak. “Why didn’t you pick up your phone and greet me with some cheesy pick up line that would make everything okay again?”
“Because I didn’t think you wanted me to,” Dean murmured, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
“I waited for you, Dean.”
“I’m here now. Is that enough?”
“It’s been so long,” you whispered.
“I know, Y/N. Believe me, I know. I felt every day that you weren’t there. But can we at least try again? Because if you give me another chance, I swear I’ll never make you wait again.”
Slowly, you nodded. “Yes, Dean. We can.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I’m really excited at the moment because I’m currently on 394 followers! *cue Harry Potter fangirling* Anyway, I’m hoping to get another one or two imagines up tonight. I was going to post last night but I saw Divergent yesterday and was way too excited to concentrate. IT WAS INCREDIBLE!!
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. You’re so sweet! And I’m so sorry it’s taken me ages to write this. I’ve just been really busy with school. But I hope it was worth the wait!
Warnings: Reader is a bit self-conscious about her weight.
~~~~~
“What were you after?” the blonde bartender asks Dean, leaning forward so that her chest is in full display.
“That depends. What’s your specialty?” Dean replies, equally flirtatious.
“Anything you want.”
“Can I get a coke, please?” you cut in.
The bartender’s eyes flicked to you briefly. “Sure.”
As she walked away to get your drink, you couldn’t help but stare at her perfectly toned body. If this girl wanted to, she could easily be payed to walk the runways of Paris. She just had that kind of figure.
You gazed down at your own body self-consciously. Years of hunting ensured that you were reasonably fit but you knew that it probably wouldn’t hurt to lose a couple of kilos. Unfortunately, you just weren’t built in the same way that the bartender was. You weren’t built like the kind of girls Dean liked.
When the bartender handed you your drink, you pushed away from the bar, muttering, “I’ll just leave you guys to it.” You went and sat down in the corner, the sounds of the bartender’s flirtatious laughter occasionally reaching you over the noise of the bar.
Five minutes later, you were staring into the depths of your drink when someone sat down in the chair opposite you.
You looked up, preparing to tell whoever it was that you weren’t interested, when you realised who it was sitting opposite you.
“Okay. What’s up?” Dean asked.
“What makes you think something’s up?”
“For one thing, you’re sitting in the corner on your own over here. For another, I have never known you to shut up in all the time I’ve known you. But tonight, I’ve barely heard a word out of you. What gives?”
“Did you get her number?” you asked abruptly.
“What?” Dean queried, startled with the sudden change of subject.
“The bartender,” you explained. “Did you get her number?”
“Um, I think I might have it written down somewhere…”
“Of course you do. Because she’s blonde and pretty and can pull off wearing tight clothes. She’s practically a model. And I’m not,” you added on bitterly.
“What’s all this about?” Dean questioned.
“Dean, I’m not blind. You have a type. Sam too. You both go for the pretty girls, who are rake thin. And that’s fine and all, but sometimes, you know…”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Sometimes it’s just hard not being that type!” you burst out.
“That’s what this is about? You think I could never be interested in you because you don’t have the ‘perfect’ body?”
“I don’t think it. I know it.”
“Well, Y/N, I hope you haven’t put any money on that. Because you know what? Yeah, the waitress is hot. But do you think she could take down a werewolf in hand to hand combat? Do you think she could cleanly slice the head off a vampire? Do you think she’d be prepared to put her life on the line every day in order to protect people she’s never met?”
“Well, no, but -”
“No buts,” Dean interrupted. “I want you to listen to me very carefully. That girl over there? She caught my eye, sure, but I’ve only known her for ten minutes or something. This time next week, I probably won’t even remember her name. But you, on the other hand…Y/N, you’ve never stopped catching my eye.”
“You…what?” Your heart was rattling the bars of its cell, threatening to break free from your ribcage. “What are you saying, Dean?”
“What I’m saying is that, yeah, you probably wouldn’t have caught my eye if we’d met for 10 minutes in a bar. But we didn’t meet in a bar. We met on a hunt. And I’m forever grateful for that because if we’d crossed paths in any other way, I wouldn’t know you the way I do. And if I didn’t know you the way I do, I wouldn’t love you,” Dean explained.
“You love me?” you squeaked out.
“Is it really that surprising?” he joked.
“Well, a little. I mean, I just wouldn’t have thought you’d ever be interested in someone like me -”
“Y/N, why do you say, 'someone like me’ as though it’s a bad thing? Because in my opinion, it’s one of the best things there is.”
“Are you for real?” you asked.
“Yep. And I’m also still waiting on an answer.”
“To what?” you asked in confusion.
“Well, I told you how I feel about you. So now would probably be a good time to confess your undying love for me…” he trailed off nervously.
You grinned. “If that’s what you want, then I guess I can probably let you have that,” you teased, before growing serious once more. “But seriously, Dean. I do feel the same way about you. I always have.”
You were prevented from saying anything more as Dean’s lips captured your own, stealing all the words they needed to hear.
You pulled back, giggling. “What is it?” Dean asked.
“Before I told you how I felt, you were nervous,” you explained. “I made Dean Winchester nervous!”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! And be prepared for a lot more posts over the next few days. I’m on holidays now and I plan on catching up with requests!
There might be a couple of mistakes in this because I have to go help with my ferrets now.
Anyway, please don’t repost without giving credit!
Hi. I’m so sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long! It’s just that I’ve had a lot of assessments at school these past few weeks. I’ve been meaning to write more this week, but I had a science test to study for and a debate to prepare for.
However, today was the last day of school for the term, so I have 2 weeks ahead of me to catch up on imagines! Plus I’ll probably post a couple of imagines tonight.
And for anyone waiting on a request - I will write it! I promise. I write all requests, except smut. And if for any reason I choose not to write your request, I’ll let you know and explain why.
Also, a week or so ago, I got a request that I didn’t quite understand. I did contact the person who sent it in to clarify but I didn’t get a response. If this was you, please reply back to me, because I’d love to write your request!
TLDR: Basically, I’ve been busy, but I will get all requests done over the next couple of weeks. Just bear with me!
Hi. I’m so sorry this took so long. I’ve just been quite busy with school lately.
Warnings: Reader’s family is really nasty to them.
~~~~~
You sighed. “Dean, it’s just lunch. Free food. You can’t get much better than that,” you explained for the thousandth time.
“Yeah, but it’s with your family. I never do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing!” he exclaimed.
“Dean, I know you aren’t into this kind of thing but can’t you please just put up with it? For me? They’ve really been on my back lately.”
“Alright,” Dean conceded. “But I’m only doing this because it’s you. If it were anyone else, I’d say no. Just keep that in mind.”
“I will. And Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s go.”
—-
You took a deep breath and knocked hesitantly on your parents’ front door.
“Y/N,” your mother greeted you as she opened the door. “I see you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence.”
“Hi, mum. I know, it’s been a while. I’m sorry about that. But work’s been really hectic lately,” you explained.
“Blaming it on this elusive job of yours again, are you? Am I ever going to find out what you actually do?” You exchanged a glance with Dean. “And who is this?” she asked, noticing the shift in your gaze.
“Mum, this is Dean Winchester. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Y/L/N.”
Your mother frowned at his outstretched hand, carefully avoiding it. “Yes, well. We better go in now. I expect lunch has gotten cold with all this pointless discussion you’ve engaged me in,” she complained, turning on her heel and heading into the house.
Dean frowned at you before ushering you into the house after her.
—-
Lunch was carried out in awkward silence, only broken by the clanging of cutlery and the occasional request for food to be passed down the table.
At one point, Dean stood up. “If you’ll just excuse me, I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“It’s just down the hall on your left,” you told him.
“Alright. I’ll be back in a minute,” he answered, pressing a kiss to your temple.
As soon as he’d left the room, your father turned to you. “So how did you and Dan meet?”
“It’s Dean,” you corrected.
“What difference does it make?” he shrugged. “It’s not as if things will work out between the two of you.”
“Actually, we’ve been together for about six months now.”
“Really?” your mother asked skeptically. “I suppose anyone will stick around if you give them enough of what they want.”
“Mum!” you gasped. “It’s not like that between Dean and I! How could you even suggest something like that?”
She appeared unconcerned by your reaction. “I simply don’t see what else he’d see in you.”
“How dare you?” Dean threatened from the doorway, as tears swam in your eyes.
“I thought you were using the facilities,” your mother said mildly.
“I was. But then I come back down the hallway to hear you say things like that? What the hell is wrong with you? If I ever hear of you saying things like that again, I’ll -”
“Dean,” you interrupted, standing up to put your hand on his arm.
His gaze cut to you. “You aren’t just gonna sit hear and take their crap, are you?”
“Can we just take this into the hall?” you pleaded.
“Sure,” he replied, allowing you to lead him out of the room.
“Look, Dean,” you began.
“Are they always that douchey?” he burst out.
“Dean,” you hissed, looking back to make sure your parents hadn’t heard.
“What? It’s a valid question. Do they always treat you like that?”
“Um, kind of. Yes, I suppose. But it’s fine, really. I’m used to it.”
“You should never have to get used to crap like that,” Dean stated, indignation taking over his features.
“Yes, well, that’s just the way things are. And it’s okay,” you told him, your voice quivering.
“No, Y/N, it’s not,” Dean told you, cupping your face in his hands. “Because there are countless things I see in you, an infinite list of why I’ve stayed with you for so long. So don’t you ever think that what your parents say is true. Because I see everything in you. Everything.”
“Really?” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek.
“Of course,” Dean answered, wiping your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Never, ever listen to them, okay? Because you’re beautiful, and no one should ever make you feel any less than that.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I’m kind of behind with requests at the moment but I’m in the last week of term before the school holidays, so I’ll be able to catch up then.
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. Thank you so much! And you’re totally right - there isn’t enough love for Garth on here! And there totally should be, because he’s fantabulous!
~~~~~
The Impala pulled up in front of the house where the murders had taken place.
“Ah, crap,” you murmured. “Looks like the actual authorities got here before us,” you continued, indicating towards the man in a Texas ranger uniform.
“Hang on,” Sam said. “Is that…?”
“Garth.” Dean finished.
You frowned in confusion. “Who’s Garth?”
“Looks like you’re about to find out,” Dean said, easing himself out of the car.
At the sound of the door slamming shut, the man named Garth turned around. When he saw the Winchester boys, he excused himself from the witness he was speaking to and made his way towards the three of you, a broad smile stretching across his face.
“Sam! Dean!” he exclaimed, pulling each of them in for a hug.
“Okay, okay. Come on, that’s enough,” Dean said, awkwardly patting Garth on the back.
“Who’s this?” Garth asked, pulling away from Dean.
“I’m Y/N,” you answered, holding out your hand.
Instead of shaking it like you thought he would, he brought it up to press a kiss to it, causing you to blush. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’m Garth.”
“Yeah, I know. The boys told me.”
“So,” Dean interrupted, “have you spoken to the witnesses?”
“Mostly. The only one left is the daughter of the couple.”
“We better go talk to her then,” Dean said, walking towards the front door.
When the four of you got inside the house, you found a little girl curled up on the lounge, clutching a teddy to her side.
“Hey,” Sam said softly. “My name’s Sam. And these are my friends Dean, Y/N and Garth. We just want to ask you a couple of questions. Is that okay?”
The little girl didn’t answer, choosing instead to suck her thumb whilst staring at Sam with wide eyes.
“Allow me,” Garth announced, taking Sam’s place. “Would you maybe like to talk to Mr. Fizzles?”
You were about to interrupt and ask who Mr. Fizzles was when Garth pulled out a sock puppet. You cocked an eyebrow but allowed him to carry on, interested to know how this would pan out.
To your amazement, Garth’s use of the sock puppet actually got the young girl to open up. And as you watched him converse with her, you couldn’t help but smile. He just had this energy about him that you couldn’t help but love. Garth was the sort of person that made everyone smile, simply by being in the same room as them.
And if his infectious energy wasn’t enough, he glanced up at you at one point and smiled at you when he saw you watching him. That was the point when you realised that you were starting to crush on the dorky hunter.
—-
After about half an hour, Garth finished talking to the girl. What she’d said, combined with the information he’d gathered from the other witnesses, gave you enough information to track down the ghost who had committed the murders.
As Sam and Dean drove off to salt and burn the remains, you and Garth stayed back at the motel room.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Mr. Fizzles wants to talk to you.”
“Garth, I’m not going to speak to a sock puppet!” you laughed.
Garth gasped. “He has feelings, you know!” he exclaimed, dramatically covering the area where Mr. Fizzles’ ears would have been.
You giggled. “Fine then! I’ll do it. What did you want to say to me, Mr. Fizzles?”
Garth made the head of the sock puppet poke up. “Well, I wanted to ask you something on Garth’s behalf. He was too shy to ask you himself.”
“Oh? And what does Garth want to ask me?”
“Will you go on a date with him?” Mr. Fizzles asked.
You froze for a moment, surprised at the question. When you recovered yourself, you said, “Well, you can tell Garth that I’d love to go on a date with him.”
Garth lowered his hand. “Seriously?” he asked in his normal voice.
“Of course, Garth. Did you think I could say no after you asked me out so adorably?”
“Of course not! I totally knew you were gonna say yes,” Garth replied hastily.
“Sure you did,” you grinned. “And by the way, tell Mr. Fizzles that he is an awesome wingman.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.