It wasn’t for a very long while, but I’m hoping to get it running again soon. Although it won’t be as active as it used to be.
Guys. It’s Croatoan.
Thank you so much! That means a lot to me.
Just so you guys know, I know essentially nothing about dancing. All I know comes from watching Dance Academy.
~~~~~
As soon as Sam and Dean seemed to be immersed in research, you snuck out of the bunker, taking your car into town. It was something you did about once a week and so far, they hadn’t noticed that you’d been leaving.
It had all started several weeks ago, when, after a hunt gone wrong, which had resulted in the death of a young boy, you’d been wandering around the town near the bunker. You had been lost in your thoughts, and almost missed the ballet studio as you walked past. But you had backtracked, drinking in the sight. Dancing had always been a passion of yours, and you couldn’t believe you had found a studio near the bunker.
The morning after your discovery, you’d returned, hoping to speak with the owner. As it turns out, she was a friend of your dance teacher from when you were a kid, and agreed to leave the studio unlocked one night a week, so long as you locked up afterwards with the spare key.
So each Monday, you snuck out to the studio, letting go of the stress as you stretched and spun and lost yourself to the movements. And today was just like those other days. You positioned yourself at the barre, going through the positions as you watched yourself in the mirror opposite.
But just as you were heading over to turn on the music, you caught side of movement behind you, and spun around to find Sam and Dean watching you. “Nice outfit,” Dean observed. Nervously, you smoothed down the material of your leotard, something much different to the jeans and button up shirts you wore when hunting.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, reaching down to take off your pointe shoes. You figured that you wouldn’t get to do much dancing tonight, not with company around.
“We were wondering where you’ve been going the past few weeks,” Sam explained. “We hope we weren’t intruding on anything.” Huh. So they had noticed your absence. It would seem that you weren’t as secretive as you would like to believe.
“It’s fine,” you assured them. “I just like coming here. It takes away the stress.” Their faces showed that they knew exactly what that was like. Being a hunter was never easy, and sometimes the pressure built up to a point where it was nearly unbearable.
“I didn’t know you danced,” Dean spoke up, seeming surprised at this revelation.
Smiling ruefully, you said, “Well, I don’t, really. Not since I started hunting. But then I found this studio, and I thought, ‘Why not?’”
The brothers smiled at you, and you felt dumb for ever thinking they would laugh at you for your love of dance. “I think it’s great that you’ve got something to take your mind off things,” Sam told you.
“I agree,” Dean added. “Maybe you might even be able to teach us a few moves.” You laughed, collecting your bag from the corner and going over to meet them.
“Like you could keep up.”
~~~~~
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~~~~~
The Impala flew down the straight stretch of black road, with no sign of anyone else around. You loved it like this - Dean behind the wheel, you in the passenger seat. Both front windows were down and you were each resting an elbow on the window frame, allowing the wind to whip inside, ruffling your hair and shirts.
You dug through Dean’s box of cassette tapes, smiling as you found the one you were after and put it in the player. As the sound of AC/DC filled the car, Dean looked over at you and grinned, tapping out the beat on the steering wheel. “You have excellent taste in music,” he told you, turning back to the road.
“I know,” you agreed, leaning back against the seat. As the chorus came round, you and Dean grinned at one another, before proceeding to belt out the lyrics.
“Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap
Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap
(Dirty deeds and they’re done dirt cheap)
(Dirty deeds and they’re done dirt cheap).”
Dean was head banging, and you had turned the dashboard into a drum kit. It was so freeing, to just rock out and forget about angels and demons and ghosts for the time being. You and Dean could just relax and act like teenagers at a concert for a while, instead of worrying about the fate of the world.
As the song finally died out, the two of you laughed, trying to catch your breath. “God, I love this,” Dean murmured.
“Me too,” you smiled, looking in the rear view mirror at the endless expanse of road stretching out behind you.
“No, I mean it,” he insisted. “I-I love you.” He held his breath, looking at you out of the corner of his eye to gauge your reaction.
“As you damn well should, Winchester,” you smirked. But then your expression softened, and you reached over to squeeze his knee. “But don’t worry - I know the feeling. Road trips with you are my favourite things in the world.”
~~~~~
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~~~~~
Sighing, you packed up the Monopoly box. Over the past few weeks, you had taken on the role of introducing Cas to various aspects of being human. And today, you’d moved on to board games. But no matter how hard you tried to explain the concept of the game to him, he just didn’t get it. “If humans want property, why not ascertain the funds to buy actual properties rather than wasting time on fake ones?” he had asked.
“It’s a game, Cas,” you had tried to explain. “It’s a bit of fun.” He, apparently, didn’t seem to agree with you, so you had decided to move on to other aspects of human life.
“Alright,” you began, sitting back down opposite Cas after putting the Monopoly away. “Why don’t we talk about human relationships? What do you want to know?” Cas surprised you by answering straight away.
“How does one enter into a human relationship?”
“Well, I guess it would depend on what kind of relationship you want. Do you mean a friendship, or -”
“A romantic relationship,” he interrupted, listening attentively to what you had to say.
“Oh,” you replied, wondering why he was asking about this. Regardless, you carried on, hoping to explain relationships to him as best you could. “Well, relationships are all about getting along well with one another, and it helps to have a common interest, so you have something to talk about. You should trust the person you’re in a relationship with, and they should trust you back. That’s one of the most important things.” You paused for a moment, checking to see if he was following. He nodded, indicating that you should continue. “And if you find someone like that, and you really, really like them, you should ask them out, on a date.”
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
“Um, yeah, like that!” you answered, pleased that he seemed to be learning quickly. “And if they like you back -”
“No,” he interjected. “That was a question. I find that you seem to meet the criteria for a relationship candidate, and I really, really like you. So I am asking you out. On a date.” Your breath caught in your throat, and you couldn’t believe this was happening. Admittedly, this wasn’t exactly the most romantic way you’d ever been asked out, but at the same time, there was something about it that was just so…Cas. You couldn’t imagine him being any other way.
Allowing yourself to breathe again, you thought about how best to respond. After a moment, you worked it out, and your mouth curled into a grin. “And if they like you back,” you said, picking up where you’d left off earlier, “then they say yes. So, yes, Cas. I will go on a date with you.” He returned your grin with one of his own, and you couldn’t help but think that this was the best lesson you’d had with him about being human in the whole time you’d been teaching him.
~~~~~
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TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of self harm.
I would just like to say that I don’t really know a lot about self harm. So if I have in any way romanticised it or portrayed it inaccurately, please tell me. I really don’t want to do that, so if I have, let me know so that I can make sure I don’t do so in the future.
~~~~~
You got dressed for the hunt, making sure to choose clothes with long sleeves. It was a secret of yours, one that you wished you didn’t have but you didn’t dare tell. The Winchesters were protective about the marks made by monsters. Who knew how they’d react if they found out about the marks made by your own hand.
You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t stop. It was the only way you knew how to cope with the pain you felt in your heart. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but it was all you had, and it would have to do.
As you left your room in the bunker, you grabbed your duffel bag off the floor, knowing that this hunt would require you and Sam to stay in a motel for a couple of nights. Dean was staying behind to rest up after the last hunt he’d been on, but had agreed to lend you and Sam the Impala.
—-
It was a fairly basic hunt. The only problem was that it was a Wendigo and, not knowing the area, you might have trouble finding out where it was taking its victims. But when you arrived at the town, you met a couple of locals who were keen to put a stop to the disappearances, and they took you out into the forest to look for the creature.
For several hours, you searched to no avail. And as the sky started to turn dark, Sam suggested that maybe it would be a good idea to turn back now and come back tomorrow. After all, night time was when the Wendigo would be more likely to come out and play, and you knew that it would be practically impossible to defeat it in the dark.
But as the four of you headed off, you stumbled in the growing darkness, and soon enough found that you’d lost your way. “Sam?” you called out, the fear starting to set in. A twig snapped behind you and you spun around, your heart just about pounding through your rib cage.
“Y/N?” his voice replied.
“Oh, thank God,” you breathed, taking a step in the direction his voice had come from. But the closer you got, the larger his shadow appeared to be. Sam was tall, but not that tall, surely. And that was when you remembered that Wendigos could mimic human voices.
You turned to run but the creature came up behind you, tearing into your stomach with its sharp claws to keep you from getting away. You cried out in pain, praying that Sam was near enough to hear you. But as the Wendigo began taking you away, you heard nothing else, and your hope of being rescued anytime soon began to fade.
—-
The cave the Wendigo had taken you to was cold, with lines of moisture running down the walls. It stank of rotting flesh and you kept your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see the unconscious bodies hanging up around you. The area was only small, and you didn’t dare move for fear of brushing up against one of the mangled bodies or the sharp rocks sticking out from the cave wall.
It had been at least two hours since you been dumped here and tied up, and you had no idea what you would do when the Wendigo finally came back. You knew they liked to keep their victims alive, which meant it would probably go after you first, giving its other victims time to heal.
Very faintly, you thought you could hear footsteps approaching in the distance and your breathing started coming hard and fast. It was coming for you, it must be. But then they started heading back the way they’d come, leaving you confused. And that was when you heard it - the faint sound of shouting, and you could’ve sworn that the passages outside the cavern you were in glowed a tiny bit brighter.
Fire. It had to be fire. And sure enough, Sam and the two locals rushed into the cave minutes later, and set about freeing all of you. “Sam,” you breathed. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did,” he answered, picking you up bridal style to take you from the cave. “Will you guys be alright?” he asked the others. When they nodded, he thanked them for their help and left, laying you carefully in the backseat of the Impala before speeding off towards your motel to stitch up the wound in your stomach.
“You know,” you told him as you arrived back at the room and he carried you inside, “I can fix it up myself. It’s no big deal.” Sam looked at you seriously, eyeing the pallor of your cheeks and the light shaking of your hands.
“Y/N, you aren’t strong enough to do it right now. Let me help you,” he insisted. Eventually you relented, but that was before he told you he’d have to remove your shirt to access the wound.
“What? No!” you panicked. “You can’t do that!”
“Y/N, I’m not going to look at anything,” Sam told you, looking mildly offended that you seemed to trust him so little.
“That’s not what I mean,” you whispered.
“Then what is it?” he asked patiently. You eyed him for a moment, your bottom lip trembling, before slowly inching your shirt up your stomach, revealing many more injuries than Sam had been expecting. After spending such a long time hiding this from him, you knew you couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. This cut from the Wendigo was too serious for Sam to ignore, and you knew he wouldn’t give up until he’d stitched it up. So you’d decided to reveal your secret to him, wanting him to find out on your own terms.
“Y/N,” he murmured, taking in the scars with sad eyes. “How…?”
“I’m sorry, Sam,” you told him, tears falling silently down your cheeks. He looked up at you fiercely, taking hold of your hand.
“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. This is not your fault. And I’m going to be here for you, and I’ll help you through this,” he promised.
“Why?” This wasn’t Sam’s battle, and you didn’t know why he was so eager to fight.
“Because I love you,” he murmured, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I love you more than I ever thought was possible. And I wish you could feel that way about yourself.” Your hand covered your mouth in shock, and you couldn’t believe your ears.
“You love me?” you asked, hardly daring to believe it could be true.
“I do,” he uttered. “And we’re going to make it through this. I’m going to be by your side the whole time. I promise.”
~~~~~
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TRIGGER WARNING: Bullying.
~~~~~
You walked through the corridors with your shoulders hunched and your head hanging low, trying not to draw any attention to yourself. Even though you were a hunter, your brothers made you go to school regardless. They said it was because they wanted you to have the life they’d never gotten. And you didn’t blame them at all, because you could totally see where they were coming from. It was just…well, you hated school. But it wasn’t the teachers or the homework or the gross cafeteria food or anything like that. No. It was the other students, and in particular, the football team.
They were always calling you horrible names and fixing crappily photoshopped pictures to your locker. And while you did have your own little circle of friends and were fairly well liked by a number of your peers, it didn’t stop you from hurting whenever the football team chose to attack again.
Of course, Sam and Dean knew none of this. As far as they were concerned, school was just peachy for you. And you wanted to keep them in the dark about it, because if they found out, they would take serious action. And somehow, you didn’t know if it’d be strictly legal. Besides, it was your senior year. In a few short months, this would all be over, and you’d be free to travel with Sam and Dean, leaving the petty politics of high school behind.
Feeling a buzzing in your pocket, you pulled out your phone, seeing the screen lit up with a text from Dean. ‘Just got back in town. We’ll pick you up from school this afternoon,’ it read. You smiled, hardly able to wait until you could see them again. When they were around, you felt safe. You felt like you could forget all about the bullying, even if for just a few hours.
“Hey, wonder what’s got Y/N all happy,” Dan jeered. Looking up, you found that while you’d been checking your phone, the football team had found you, forming a loose circle around you. Glancing around, you realised with a sinking heart that the corridors were empty aside from them, with everyone else in class.
“Let’s find out, shall we,” Nate grinned, snatching the phone from your hand. “Ooh, a text message from Dean! Who’s he? Your boyfriend?”
“As if!” Liam exclaimed, while around him the team collapsed into laughter. “Look at her. Do you think she’d ever be able to get a boyfriend?”
“Please give me my phone back,” you said quietly, fighting to keep your voice from shaking.
“Oh, you want it back, do you? Well, here you go.” Nate held out his hand with the phone in it. But just as you reached out to take it, he snatched it back out of your reach. “Got you that time!” he laughed.
“Please,” you pleaded, jumping up to try and take it back. Tears pricked your eyes, but you forced them away, knowing that to cry now would only make this a thousand times worse.
Whenever you faced monsters, you felt strong, totally in control. Fighting was something that could be taught, and you knew that Sam and Dean were the best teachers in the world. But facing these guys in the school corridor…they made you feel weak. This was a different kind of battle, one that couldn’t be fought with a bit of research and the right technique. This was a battle that you had to fight everyday, and knowing how futile it was, you had simply stopped trying to fight it.
“You know,” Dylan said thoughtfully, analysing your features with his arms crossed over his chest, “Y/N’s nose doesn’t quite match up with the rest of her face.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Chad agreed. “Here, let me fix it for you.” Before you could even register what was happening, his fist had smacked into your nose, and you felt blood trickle down to your lip. You stood frozen in shock as Troy reached out to punch your cheeks as well for good measure. Never before had they resorted to physical violence, and you had no idea how to react.
You felt their eyes sizing you up again, but before anyone could take another swing at you, the bell rang, and you got the hell out of there. Their voices called after you, taunting you, but you blocked them out, heading to the front of the school where you knew Sam and Dean would be parked with the Impala.
You slid into the backseat, keeping your head down to hide your face from them. “How was school?” Sam asked.
“Just drive, please,” you answered, close to tears. You wanted nothing more than to be as far from that school as possible.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asked. When you didn’t reply, they both turned back to look at you in the backseat. “Y/N?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you whispered. Dean’s hand reached out and took a hold of your chin, tilting your head up so that they could see you properly. There was a sharp intake of breath, and Dean said through gritted teeth, “Who did this to you?”
“No one! Can we please just leave,” you said through the tears that had started to fall. But your eyes unwittingly flicked towards the football field, where the football team was warming up before practise.
“The football team?” Sam asked. You nodded, knowing that there was no use trying to hide things from them anymore. Through your sobs, you told them everything, beginning a few weeks ago with snide comments, and ending with today, when their fists had joined in on the fun.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asked gently.
“Be-because I was scared!” you whispered. “They made me feel so weak.”
“You just wait here, alright?” Dean said, getting out of the car.
“Where are you going?”
“Where do you think?” Sam responded, climbing out of the car himself. For several minutes, you waited there, not daring to look out the window for fear of what you might see. But finally, Sam and Dean opened the doors and got back into the car.
“Here you go,” Dean said, passing your phone back to you. As he withdrew his hand, you noticed that his knuckles were slightly bloody.
“What did you do to them?” you wanted to know.
“Let’s just say that they won’t bother you anymore,” Sam replied.
“That’s right,” Dean added. “No one makes our sister feel weak and gets away with it.”
~~~~~
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~~~~~
It was another one of those nights. No matter how much you tossed and turned, you just couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Blanket off, you were too cold. Blanket on, you were too hot. You punched your pillow repeatedly, but it just never seemed to go into the right shape for you. Sighing, you flipped over once more and squeezed your eyes shut, figuring that if sleep didn’t come for you, you were bloody well gonna go after it.
“Geez, what’s happening on your side of the bed?” Dean muttered sleepily from beside you.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you snapped. “Is my not being able to sleep amusing to you?” Immediately, you felt bad. “Sorry. I’m just really tired. I’ve been trying to sleep for hours now.”
“Maybe I could help you sleep,” he suggested.
“Dean,” you said, a note of warning in your voice.
He brushed you off. “Nothing like that. I mean it. Maybe I could sing to you,” he joked. Groaning, you turned away from him.
“You’re not helping!”
“Hey, come on. I’ll be serious now. Come here.” He looped his arm over your waist, pulling you towards him so that your back was flush with his chest. With the blanket off, you found that his body heat was just the right temperature for you. You leaned into him, feeling his hand reach up to your forehead to stroke your temple lightly. “Is this helping?” he whispered. You nodded, shutting your eyes as you allowed him to soothe you.
Just as you started drifting off to sleep, you noticed that Dean was humming a tune that sounded an awful lot like ‘Some Kind Of Monster’ by Metallica. You smiled and drifted off to sleep like that, with Dean’s arm around you and the notes of Metallica in your ears.
~~~~~
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I’m so glad you enjoyed it! I hope this one is just as good! And just for the record, I loved Do I Wanna Know? so much that I downloaded all of the Arctic Monkeys albums. I’m listening to them right now.
Part One:
~~~~~
It was dark out, and you knew you should be sleeping right now. But no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t shut your brain off. Thoughts just kept coming to the surface, demanding you give them attention. And they were stupid thoughts, too. Like how good Sam had looked coming out of the motel bathroom with his hair still wet from his shower. Like how he’d smiled at you as he said good night. Like how he was lying in the bed across from you, sleeping, if his deep breathing was anything to go by.
Like how you were in love with him.
The thought shocked you, and it took a minute for you to put your finger on why. But then you realised - it was the first time you’d ever acknowledged that the feelings you had for him were more than a crush. Sighing, you tossed again, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. If you hadn’t been such an idiot, you would’ve realised this ages ago, when he was actually into you. But instead, you’d turned him down, and now had to face the consequences of your mistake.
“Can’t sleep?” a voice whispered out of the darkness.
“I’m fine, Sam. Go back to sleep,” you whispered back. But of course, he would never listen if he thought something might be wrong. So he flipped on the lamp on his bedside table, lifting himself onto one elbow so that he could see you properly.
“What’s up? And don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’ve been acting differently for days.” Was it really that obvious?
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” You closed your eyes and rolled over, hoping that if you made it look like you were sleeping, he’d leave you alone. But the ’S’ in Sam might as well have stood for Stubborn, because the next thing you knew, there was a creaking of springs, and you felt the bed sink beside you.
Sam nudged your shoulder gently, turning you back to look at him. “Really. What is it?” You stared up into his hazel eyes in the dim light the lamp provided, and did something both reckless and impulsive. And frankly, something quite stupid.
You kissed him.
As your lips came in contact with his, your fingers curled up in his hair, and you pulled him closer to you. And that was when you realised you were finally getting the answer to the question you were too scared to ask. Because against all odds, Sam Winchester was kissing you back.
“That’s what it is,” you murmured as you finally pulled away, your breath dancing with Sam’s in the space between your lips. “I am crazy for you. I just thought I’d missed my chance.”
“Why in the world would you think that?” Sam laughed, staring at you in amazement.
“Because-because you never said anything about it after I turned you down. I thought you’d moved on.”
“Y/N,” Sam said seriously. “My heart will always be open for you.”
~~~~~
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TRIGGER WARNING: Abusive father, a fair amount of swearing directed at the reader.
~~~~~
“Y/N! Get the fuck in here!” your dad boomed from the lounge room, where you could hear a game of football blaring through the television speakers. Scurrying into the room, you took in the pizza boxes and empty beer bottles scattered across the floor, before your eyes finally came to rest at the foot of the lounge where your father sat.
“Yes, Dad? What do you need?”
“Get me another beer,” he demanded. “And when you’re done, clean up this room. I can’t believe you let it get so filthy.” You did as he asked, grabbing another beer from the fridge and a garbage bag from one of the kitchen cupboards.
“Here you go,” you told your dad, plastering a fake smile on your face as you handed him the new beer.
“Shut up. I can’t hear the game,” he grunted, not even glancing in your direction as he snatched the bottle from your hand. You ducked your head in shame, internally scolding yourself for not having the better sense to not interrupt him during a match.
Lowering yourself to the floor, you started picking up the rubbish. Within minutes, the bag was bulging, and you couldn’t believe the room had gotten so messy after only a few days. But as you picked up the trash from the floor, you noticed stains on the carpet from the grease of the pizzas and the dregs of the various beers, which you knew you’d have to clean.
Sighing, you tied up the bag and headed out of the room, intending to grab some soap and sponges to clean the floor with. But just as you were dumping the rubbish bag by the front door to take out to the bins later, you heard a knock. Glancing quickly in the direction of the lounge room, you decided not to disturb your father during the game, so you answered the door yourself.
“Good afternoon,” a handsome man greeted you. He and his companion appeared to be only a few years older than you, and they didn’t seem to be carrying any boxes, so you wondered why they were on your doorstep, if not to sell anything. “I’m Agent Bon, this is my partner, Agent Scott. We were wondering if you knew anything about the murder that happened a few doors down.”
Your eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, taking in the badges they held up and their formal attire. “I-I don’t really get out much,” you started. “I’m probably not the best person you should be talking to. You should probably just leave.” You started to close the door, wanting to be rid of these two men. They had to leave before they saw inside, before they started asking questions. Your dad would flip out if he knew federal agents were in the area. And of course, you knew who he’d blame for it.
“What are you hiding from us?” the taller man asked, reaching out to stop you from shutting the door completely. There was only a small gap left to see through now, and through it you could barely just make out both of their features.
“Please, I don’t know anything!” you pleaded, feeling a sob rise up in your chest. “Just leave me alone!” The two men exchanged a glance, and were about to question you further when a scream from the lounge room cut them off.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS TAKING YOU SO LONG, YOU LITTLE BITCH? I asked you to do one simple thing! Is that too much to ask?” You flinched, both at the loud volume and the harsh nature of his words.
“Who is that?” the first man asked, pushing the door open a little further to get a look inside.
“N-no one!” you insisted, fighting against him as he pushed the door all the way open and stepped into your house alongside his companion.
“Is that your father?” the taller man asked in horror and disbelief. You didn’t answer, but your face must’ve said it all, because they both stormed into the room where your father was, turning off the TV and demanding his attention.
“What the fuck are you two doing in my house?” He demanded, half rising out of his chair. When he caught sight of you edging timidly into the room, he turned on you. “Did you let them in here, Y/N? Because if you did, I swear -”
“Actually,” the first man interrupted. “We let ourselves in.” Your father went silent as the men flashed their badges, both of them staring at him stonily. “How do you live with yourself?” he continued. “Your daughter is not a slave, nor is she an outlet for your anger. She is a good person, and you should be treating her with respect!’
You backed out of the room, not wanting to have the attention focussed on you. No one had ever spoken about you like that before, and you didn’t know how you should react to it.
"How dare you speak to me in such ways in my own house!” your father exclaimed from the other side of the wall. “I’ll have you know -” His voice cut off suddenly, and as you peeked round the edge of the doorframe to see why, you saw that the FBI agents had positioned themselves to show off the bulge of their guns.
“If you don’t mind,” the taller one said pleasantly, “we’ll just be going now.” And like that, it was over. Well, for them anyway. Your father would never forgive you for this. Once the men had left, there’d be no stopping him.
“Okay, moment of truth.” Startled, you glanced up, finding the two men standing close to you, keeping their voices low so as to not be heard. “Do you want to come with us? We can get you away from this, help you live a better life.”
“Wh-what?” Why on earth were FBI agents asking you this? “But you guys are the FBI! Besides, I-I don’t even know you,” you said shakily.
“Well, truthfully, we aren’t actually FBI agents. But we are investigating the murders in the area. We’re here to help.”
“That’s right,” the other man continued. “I’m Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam. And if you want, we can take you somewhere safe, somewhere you won’t have to put up with all this crap.” You were stuck, with no clue as to what to do. As much as you wanted to leave, how could you be sure that they could be trusted?
“But my dad…” Your fear of him was too strong, and you knew that you couldn’t go if there was any chance he might follow. But then again, it couldn’t be much worse than what you’d have to deal with when these guys left, could it?
“We’ll sort him out,” Dean assured you. “Don’t you worry about that. We’ll take care of everything. So what do you say?” His green eyes held yours, steady and reassuring. And even though you’d never met him before, there was something in the determined stares of him and his brother that said they’d never let you down.
Brushing a few stray tears from your cheeks, you nodded, swallowing and trying to match their own determined expressions. “Let me just grab my stuff.”
~~~~~
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~~~~~
“What the hell was that, Dean?” you fumed, storming into the bunker. You whipped around, folding your arms across your chest and fixing him with a furious expression.
“Oh, you’re one to talk,” he retorted. “What were you thinking? When we have a plan, we stick to it. If I hadn’t saved you -” You snorted, your expression turning to one of utter disbelief.
“Saved me? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Glaring at him, you took a step closer and drew yourself up to your full height. Through gritted teeth, you said, “Dean, you have a hero complex. And you know what? I was perfectly capable of handling myself until you showed up. The reason that hunt nearly got us both killed was you. Not me.”
Dean reeled back as though he’d been slapped, and you took his brief silence as a moment to exit the bunker, making sure to slam the door behind you. Getting behind the wheel of your car, you pulled away from the bunker. Away from Dean. But the further you drove, the more your anger left you, and in its place the guilt set in. You knew Dean had only been doing what he’d thought was right. You had no right to treat him like that. He’d only been trying to help you.
Making your decision, you made a U-turn, knowing that the back roads were generally pretty quiet, so no one would get in your way. But in all the time that you’d been thinking, you hadn’t even noticed the car that had turned onto the road behind you. You sped off towards Dean, only registering the other vehicle just before the moment of collision. There was the squeal of brakes, and a large smash, and then you blacked out, feeling shards of glass from the windscreen cut you as the airbag slammed into your chest.
—-
When you woke up, you had the strangest sensation that something was tugging against your arm. For a moment, you panicked, and strained to free yourself from its grip. But as consciousness set in properly, you realised that it was an IV, not an attacker. You slumped back against the pillows, realising that you must be in the hospital.
But then something did grab your arm and you froze, turning to look at whoever it was who had you in their clutches. “Dean…” you breathed, relaxing once more as you took in the sight of him. Who else would it have been?
“Y/N, thank God you’re alright,” he answered, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “They told me you’d be okay, but I didn’t want to believe it until I saw you for myself.”
“I’m fine,” you answered, remembering why you’d gone on that drive which had resulted in the accident in the first place. Dean was evidently remembering it too, as you noticed that the guilt had carved itself across his features.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t been fighting with you -”
“Dean,” you interrupted. “It wasn’t your fault. You were only trying to help me, and I was a bitch about it. In fact, just before I crashed, I was turning around to come see you. I didn’t mean any of it - the things I said were horrible. And none of them were true, you have to know that.” You paused, taking a moment before you said the most important thing you had to say. “Dean, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“Y/N, I’m just glad you’re alive. Of course I forgive you,” Dean told you, moving the strands of hair off your forehead so that he could stroke your temple. You smiled at him, loving how he could be so tender and gentle around you even after the things you’d said to him.
“You’re too good for me, Dean Winchester,” you murmured, leaning into the hand that was now cupping your cheek.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. There’s nothing special about me,” he answered, giving you a sad smile.
“Dean,” you said seriously, looking him dead in the eye, “there’s everything special about you.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi! I hope you like it.
~~~~~
You tugged on your boots, sliding a knife down the side of one of them as a back up. After all, you could never be too prepared when going to take down a nest of vampires. Looking around at the motel room you were staying in, you couldn’t help but think about how strange everything was in the past. And for you, that’s what this was. You’d gotten caught in the crossfire of a battle between angels and demons, and somehow, you’d ended up back in time.
At first, people had looked at you strangely, eyeing the way you dressed and the few possessions you had with you when you were sent back. But soon enough, you had learned to blend in, and had set off to find the two people you were able to locate and who you happened to trust - Uncle Sam and Dad.
Three weeks ago, you had found them and had worked at gaining their trust. You would’ve told them straight up who you were, but you knew that if you did, they’d never believe you. “Y/N, you ready?” your dad called from outside your door.
“I’m here,” you answered, striding out of the room. “Let’s gank those sons of bitches.”
—-
The nest the vamps had made for themselves was dark and gloomy, which you supposed was probably considered light and airy by a vampire’s standards. It was an old barn, set out some distance from the rest of the town. The structure was falling apart, with sections of the wood splintering away, but they had nailed boards over the gaps and windows to block out the sunlight.
Your dad explained your plan of attack, and the three of you took up your positions, charging into the nest on Uncle Sam’s signal. The vampires seemed freshly turned, a theory supported by their sloppy killing of the victims. Even though they were strong, they didn’t know how to fight, which made it easy to kill them. Within minutes, their bodies were strewn about the ground, the heads scattered beside them.
In your triumph, it became easy to forget that for the vampires to become freshly turned, there had to have been an older vampire who turned them in the first place. The reminder came in rather a harsh way. The vampire slunk out of the shadows, lunging at you and knocking you to the ground. Its weight sent you skidding across the dirt floor, before finally slamming into the barn wall.
As you cried out in pain, the vampire’s fangs extended, inching towards your neck. You thought for sure that it would bite you, but just as you felt the sharp teeth brush against the tender skin of your neck, Uncle Sam wrenched it off you, cutting its head off with a clean slice.
Your dad rushed over to you, moving your head into his lap. “Y/N, are you okay?”
“Daddy, it hurts,” you whimpered, wincing in pain. Of course, that was not the best way to reveal who you were to them. But you couldn’t help it. All you could make out through your foggy vision were his eyes, those green eyes that had rocked you to sleep as a baby, that had comforted you when you came home from a bad day at school. In that moment, you’d forgotten he was supposed to be a Dean, a fellow hunter. He was just your dad.
“What?” he demanded, drawing back from you slightly. You saw him and Sam exchange a confused glance, and you noticed Sam’s hand inching towards his waistband.
“I-I didn’t want to tell you this way, but I’m your daughter.”
“I don’t have a kid!” your dad argued, his mouth set in a stubborn line. Uncle Sam glanced at him thoughtfully, and you could tell he was wondering whether your dad had gotten some poor girl pregnant after a one night stand.
“Well, not yet you don’t.” You proceeded to tell them all about the battle that had taken place, and your role in it. How you’d been sent back in time and had to adapt to this new life. You told them about how you’d tried to find them, knowing that they would help you, about how you’d pretended to be a stranger so that you could gain their trust.
Finally, when you’d finished telling them the story, Uncle Sam looked at you and said, “How do we know you aren’t lying to us?” So you went on to talk about stories they’d told you, things from their childhood and personal lives. All the things that no one else would know.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Dad murmured when you’d finally finished explaining. “I thought there was something about you that seemed familiar, but I never thought you’d be my kid! Sammy, I get to have a family!”
He was beaming, and you could see that Uncle Sam was happy for him. “I know, Dean. I’ve been here the whole time.” Seeing their reactions, you thought everything would be okay, but then you felt your dad freeze, and you tilted your head back to try to get a look at him. There was a slight look of horror on his face, mingled with self-loathing.
“Hang on,” he began. “If you’re my kid, why the hell are you a hunter? How could I do that to you?” His voice was shaking with anger, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you - it was directed at himself. Well, himself of the future, anyway.
“It wasn’t your fault,” you murmured. “I wanted this for myself.”
“No one wants to be a hunter!” Dad yelled, causing you to flinch in shock. He noticed this and brought the volume of his voice back down for the next thing he said. “And even if you did, what kind of father am I that I let you become one?”
“One that loves and trusts his daughter, and who knows she can handle herself,” you told him. “Dad, I am a hunter because I want to help people. You know why? Because I wanted to be a hero like my dad and my Uncle Sam. I love you both so much. And if you can foresee a future in which you love me too, then please, please don’t try to change things so that I don’t become a hunter. This is the life I want for myself. Don’t take that from me.”
Your dad was silent for a moment, taking time to process everything you had just said. Uncle Sam was silent too, and you could tell he was taking the backseat to give his brother time to come to terms with this. “Alright,” your dad said at last. “Alright. I won’t try to change things, and Sam and I will try to get you back where you belong. But for now, let’s get this banged up head fixed up, okay?”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hey! Basically, Y/N is short for Your Name. The idea of the kind of fanfiction I write is that it’s reader insert, so that you are a character in the story. I hope this helps!
Thank you so much! Actually, I listened to this song for the first time when I wrote this, and it’s actually pretty catchy. Also, I haven’t really written something like this before, so I hope it’s alright.
~~~~~
You sighed, slamming the lore book shut and watching as a cloud of dust rose up from the pages. You and Dean had been researching for hours, and you still had nothing. But now, the words had blurred into one another and you were seeing the passages without taking anything in. If you were going to have any chance of finding anything out about this creature, you were going to have to take a break.
Standing up, you headed to the radio in the corner of the room, tuning in to your favourite station. As “Island in the Sun” by Weezer came on, you smiled, and an idea popped into your head. “Come on,” you said to Dean, pulling him up from his chair.
“What are you doing?” he asked, staring at you in confusion. “We have research to do -”
“Shhh,” you interrupted, placing a finger over his lips. “Just go with it.” You pulled him into the centre of the room and started swaying in time with the music. Soon enough, he picked up on what you were doing and placed his hands on your waist, leaving you to wrap your arms around his neck.
For once, you were able to do something carefree, something that didn’t involve danger, where there was no pressure to succeed. It was just you and Dean, dancing around the room with stupid grins on your faces. And by the time the final chorus came on, you both sang along.
“On an island in the sun
We’ll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can’t control my brain.”
You both laughed, pulling away from one another as the final notes of the song died out and the radio switched to a different track. Dean mockingly bowed, as if the two of you were at an old fashioned dance. You grinned, curtsying back. “Who knows?” you joked. “Maybe this will be our song!”
Dean smiled softly at you, gazing at you with a tender expression. “Who knows?”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. I hope the fluff is to your satisfaction! Admittedly, there’s not a lot, but I tried.
~~~~~
The carpet in the reception area of the motel was thin, and there was a distinct path worn from the door to the counter. As you, Dean, Adam and Sam lugged your bags to the woman working behind the desk, you couldn’t help but glance at the dingy lighting and the shabby furnishings and wish that there had been another motel nearby that you could stay in. But the next one was roughly an hour away, and the four of you were exhausted, so this would have to make do.
“Can we get 3 rooms, please?” Dean asked the woman behind the desk, greeting her with a polite smile. She glanced down at her book, a troubled look on her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but we only have two rooms left. For some reason, were just booked out this weekend. I’m really sorry.” She glanced at your little party sympathetically, but it didn’t do much to change the fact that this could cause a serious problem for you. Sam and Dean usually shared a room, given the fact that they’d done so for years, but you and Adam usually had one each, to allow you both to have some privacy.
You bit your lip, growing slightly uncomfortable at the prospect of having to share a room. It wasn’t that you didn’t like or trust the guys, but you just didn’t know if any of them would want to share with you.
Adam was the one to break the silence that had descended in the lobby. “Maybe…I could sleep with Y/N?” he suggested. Then, when he realised what he’d said, he turned beet red. “Um, that is, share a room with her.”
“Um, yeah, sure. I’m cool with that,” you agreed, blushing profusely. Sam glanced between the two of you for a moment, before turning back to the desk and saying, “I guess we’ll take them, then.”
The woman smiled, before handing over the room keys and explaining where the rooms were located. The four of you thanked her and left, with Sam and Dean turning off a few doors before the one where you and Adam would be staying. Adam unlocked the door and stepped in the room, with you not far behind. But before you even got to see in, you slammed into his back.
“Ow!” you exclaimed, rubbing your nose resentfully. “What was that - oh.” You had finally moved into a position where you could see the room, and you now knew why Adam had stopped dead. There was only one bed. The lady definitely hadn’t mentioned that when you’d made the reservation.
“Y/N, I had no idea,” he said apologetically, as you silently shut the door, still reeling over this new bit of information. “Look, I’ll sleep on the couch. You take the bed.” Glancing across the room, you saw a little armchair in the corner, the fabric worn and fraying.
“No,” you decided. “I’m not letting you sleep in that thing. You won’t be able to move in the morning. You can share the bed with me.”
“Are you sure -” You quelled him with a sharp look, before grabbing your pyjamas out of your duffel bag and heading to the bathroom to change. When you came back out, Adam switched with you, leaving you to flop down on the bed. After a minute, you determined that nothing good was on TV, so you switched it off again and closed your eyes.
Moments later, you heard the bathroom door creak open, and you opened your eyes to see Adam heading back towards you. “You shape up nicely, Milligan,” you observed.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” He switched off the main light in the room, before pulling back the covers and sliding into bed beside you. The darkness was complete, and you could barely make out Adam’s form as you settled into bed.
“Shit! Sorry!” you apologised as you rolled into him. For a moment, you were worried about how he would react. But then you noticed that he was shaking beside you and you realised he was laughing. When the momentary tension gone, you laughed too, pulling the covers up over your shoulder.
As you starting slipping into sleep, you felt a weight settle on your waist - Adam had draped his arm across you. You froze for a minute and he withdrew it slightly, asking, “Is this…okay?”
“Yeah,” you murmured, shifting towards him. “You just surprised me, that’s all.” He put his arm back around you, pulling you closer to him. You lay like that for several minutes, feeling his rhythmic breathing calm you and lull you to sleep.
Then, just as you felt yourself finally drifting off, he whispered, “Sweet dreams, Y/N.” You smiled, and fell asleep with a warm and fuzzy feeling growing inside you.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. I hope you like it!
~~~~~
The sound of the Impala’s engine faded into the distance, leaving the bunker in silence. You knew that Sam was reading up on some lore, but you didn’t want to distract him. So you were left to your own devices until Dean got back tomorrow. He’d left to go interview some witnesses, to try and shed some light on the monster they were hunting.
As you’d said goodbye to him, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He’d been working so hard the past few weeks, and the strain was starting to show. His eyes were lined with bags and he walked as though a large weight was on his shoulders, forcing him to slump and drag himself along. You also knew that he’d been having trouble sleeping lately, which couldn’t have been helping.
You bit your lip, frowning slightly as you thought. You had nothing else to do today, so maybe you could do something for Dean, a nice surprise to take his mind off hunting for the time. Smiling, you headed into the kitchen and grabbed an apron, hoping that you had all the ingredients you would need.
—-
The next day, as you heard the Impala pulling back into the bunker’s garage, you darted out of the kitchen, a huge smile on your face. You had been in a baking frenzy all night, and couldn’t wait to show Dean what you had prepared for him. Sam had even come in at one point and - after you’d explained what you were doing to him - helped for a little while.
“Dean!” you squealed, throwing your arms around him as he came through the door.
“Hey, Y/N,” he laughed wearily, hugging you back. “I take it you missed me?”
“Yep.” You grabbed his hand, tugging him in the direction of the kitchen.
“Hey, I’m drained right now. Do you think we could do this later?” You glanced back at him, taking in his exhaustion. It wouldn’t hurt to wait, you supposed… “Hang on,” Dean added. “Do I smell pie?” You grinned, knowing that there was no way he’d want to go to sleep now.
“Maybe,” you sang, going ahead of him into the kitchen. “Although it rather use it as a plural.” As Dean saw the table, his jaw dropped. Laid out before him were several fresh pies, the most recent one still steaming. “Just a little something I did to surprise you,” you told him. “There’s apple pie, pecan pie and cherry pie.”
“I love you!” Dean exclaimed, swinging you around in his arms. You laughed, begging him to put you back down again. When he did, you looked up at him and saw that through the exhaustion, he was genuinely happy to see what you’d done for him.
“I just thought you could do with a little something to cheer you up,” you said. “I know the last few weeks have been tough on you…” Dean smiled, and it was clearly genuine, despite the tiredness he obviously felt.
“Y/N? You’re awesome,” he uttered.
~~~~~
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Thank you! I hope you like this imagine.
~~~~~
The bed sheets felt so good as you climbed into bed, sinking your head into the pillow as the mattress cradled your body. Your eyelids drooped, and it barely even registered when Dean climbed into bed beside you, tucking you under the covers. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before settling himself on his side of the bed. “How was she?” he murmured.
“Mmm, yeah, I got her to sleep,” you replied drowsily. “She won’t sleep through the night, though. God, when people said that we’d get no sleep with a baby, I didn’t realise how literally they meant it.”
Dean let out a humourless laugh. “God, I know. I love her, but man I wish she would stop crying.” You were about to agree, but you felt yourself being pulled under, and you welcomed the much needed rest.
Only a couple of months ago, you had finally become a mother, a title you couldn’t be prouder of. But what you hadn’t expected was just how exhausted it would make you. Many days had passed where you’d drift off to sleep when you were supposed to be looking after the baby, before jerking upright and realising what had just happened, and hating yourself for leaving your baby unattended, even for only a few minutes.
Even on the nights when you did go into a deep sleep, it didn’t last very long. Tonight was no exception. Barely three hours after you’d drifted off, you were woken by crying coming from the baby monitor on your bedside table. Groaning, you sat upright, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Dean was still asleep, so you went to check on your daughter yourself, wanting to let him sleep as much as possible.
Your heart just about stopped as you turned into the nursery. Standing in front of the cot was a man, leaning over your baby. “Dean!” you screamed, as the man’s attention turned to you. But as he faced you, you saw that his eyes were black, and you knew that this was no man. It was a demon.
“Please, leave her alone,” you pleaded. “She’s just a baby! Take me instead!” The demon took a step towards you, using his power to force you up against the wall. Your breath cut off and you started choking, watching helplessly as he turned back to your little girl. A rushing sound filled your ears, making it almost impossible to hear the crying coming from the cot. You were sure that you were going to pass out, and you had no idea what the demon would do to your baby when you did.
But just as the darkness starting creeping in on the edge of your vision, a figure darted into the room, headed straight for the demon. Dean. Slowly, your heart rate returned to normal. Everything would be okay now that he was here. He was going to fix everything.
You saw him stab the demon and then you were free, slumping back against the wall with a hand to your throat, gasping for breath. Dean was there in an instant, cradling your face and asking over and over again if you were alright. Nodding, you stumbled over to the cot, where your baby was crying.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you gasped, picking her up and rocking her in your arms. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s alright.” Gradually, the cries began to die down, and soon she was sleeping in your arms.
“Is she alright?” Dean murmured, reaching for her. You handed her over, checking her for any physical signs of harm.
“I-I think so,” you shakily replied. “But what if he’s done something to her?” You thought of Sam and what had happened to him when he was six months old. Dean must’ve been thinking along the same lines, because he said, “I’ll get Cas to come check her out. Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll look after her.”
“Dean -” you began to protest.
“No,” he interrupted. “You’re exhausted. Please. Just let me do this.” Seeing the pleading look in his eyes, you consented, turning to leave the room. You had just reached the doorway when you heard a muffled sob behind you. Looking back, you saw Dean’s body shaking slightly, but he kept a firm grip on your baby.
“Dean, what’s wrong?” you asked, hurrying back to his side. He shook his head, at a loss for words.
“I thought I was going to lose you,” he finally choked out. “I thought it would be like Mum all over again. Like Jess. When I heard you scream, all I could think was that I would run in here to find you burning on the ceiling.”
In that moment, he looked so broken and lost. All you could think of was that little boy, one who had lost far too much, and gained so much responsibility. Dean deserved a better life than hunting, and just as he’d gotten one, this demon had shown up in your daughter’s room to remind the both of you that sometimes, happy endings just aren’t possible.
“Dean,” you said firmly, looking him directly in the eye. “I am still here. I know what could’ve happened, but it didn’t. I’m still here, and I’m not going to leave you,” you promised. “We’re going to get through this. Together.”
Dean looked up at you, a desperate look in his eyes. But there was hope there too, like he thought that the two of you could do this. He knew that you weren’t going to leave, unlike so many other people in his life. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Thank you so much! I hope you like it.
~~~~~
You walked along the streets with your hood up, the ends of your sleeves covering your hands to keep them warm. In your hands were a couple of plastic grocery bags, filled with only the most basic supplies.
When you had gone up to the counter, the woman working the register had given you a funny look, which you didn’t blame her for. After all, a 14 year old girl doing grocery shopping at night, when it’s dark out? Not something you see very often, and certainly not something that you can ignore. So you had gotten the hell out of there, collecting your shopping quickly before she had time to start asking questions.
It was time to leave this town, which was a shame, because you quite liked it here. You had found an abandoned house just out of town, the perfect location. It was within walking distance of the shops, but far enough away from any prying eyes. But now you were going to have to leave it, and just hope that you found somewhere just as good in the next place you settled in, wherever that may be.
You were just passing the next streetlight when it starting flickering. After pausing for the briefest of moments, you picked up the pace. All of a sudden, the night seemed so much darker, and you just wanted to get back under cover. But as you hurried off, you heard footsteps behind you. You looked around, but there was nothing there. Your breath hitched in your chest, and you felt as if your heart was in your throat. Turning back around, you barrelled head first into a tall woman.
She was fairly young looking, and was dressed in a tailored skirt and shirt, a sight which wasn’t uncommon around here, especially not for someone just getting back from work. But something about her was off. Maybe it was the hungry look in her eyes, or the slight stains you noticed on the fabric of her suit. But whatever it was, you knew something was wrong, even before her lips curled upwards and she said tauntingly, “Hello, sweetie.”
Before you even had a chance to register what was going on, the woman had attacked you, flinging you against the brick wall of the building beside you. Your head pounded and your vision slid out of focus as you lay in a crumpled heap on the footpath. Reaching up to push your hair out of your face, your fingers met something sticky - blood. Your blood.
Your hand started to tremble, a sensation which soon swept through the rest of your body. You had no idea who this woman was, but you knew that unless a miracle happened, she’d end up killing you, right here on this darkened street.
Just as she came in for a second attack, you felt yourself blacking out. And perhaps it was just a hallucination, but you could’ve sworn that that miracle came. But not in a blinding flash of light, as you would’ve expected. No, this miracle came in the form of an engine rumbling down the street. Squinting, you could just make out two men jumping out of a car. An Impala, you thought.
The men leapt at the woman, with the taller one grabbing her in a choke hold while the shorter one stabbed her with a knife. You stifled a scream as her body flashed with a yellowish light, before slumping to the ground.
As the men turned towards you, you backed up, feeling your back meet the cold bricks behind you. There was nowhere to go, and if these guys turned that knife on you…but no. The man with the knife had let it go, and had dropped down to your level while his friend dealt with the body. “Hey,” he whispered. “What’s your name?”
“Y-Y/N,” you stuttered, still shaking in terror.
“Well, Y/N, my name’s Dean. And that other guy you saw is Sam, my brother,” he told you gently, maintaining steady eye contact.
“Wh-what just happened? Who was that? Why did she attack me?”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, interrupting you before your voice had the chance to rise into hysteria. “It’s alright. That…it’s a long story. But the point is you’re safe now. Alright? My brother and I are going to make sure you’re alright.” As he said this, his brother came back and pulled a First Aid kit from the car.
“Do you mind?” he asked, gesturing to the cut on your head. Shaking your head, you watched as he sterilised a cotton wool ball, before dabbing it gently along the wound. You flinched as it made contact with your skin, the cut burning as he cleaned it up. “Sorry about that,” Sam apologised, fixing your head up as quickly as possible. “Alright, you’re done,” he told you, packing the First Aid kit back up and putting it in the car.
“Did you want a lift home?” Dean asked as he gathered up the groceries you’d dropped. He frowned as he put them back into the bags, no doubt wondering why you had them with you on a street so late at night in the first place. But he didn’t ask you any questions, which was lucky, considering your head was still fuzzy and you didn’t know if you could think up a good enough excuse.
“I’ll be right,” you replied, getting to your feet. But you had barely straightened yourself up before the world tilted, and if Sam hadn’t caught you and held you upright, you would’ve fallen again.
“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere on your own,” he told you. “In fact, maybe we should take you to the hospital,” he added worriedly, peering into your eyes to check your pupils.
“No, no, it’s fine,” you hastily assured him. “But, ah, yeah, a ride home would be good.” They opened the backdoor for you and helped you into the seat, before letting themselves into the front seats and pulling away. The further you drove the more you felt a sense of relief growing in you. You were finally getting away from where the terrifying ordeal had taken place, and you never wanted to go back.
About ten minutes later, the brothers were finally close to the house you were staying in, having followed your directions. So when you were about 100 metres away, you told them to pull over. “I’ll walk from here,” you informed them.
They squinted into the darkness, evidently looking for where you lived. “I don’t see anything,” Dean said.
“Oh, it’s…set back from the road,” you lied. “But don’t worry, I’ll walk the rest of the way.” You reached for the door handle, but just as your fingers closed around it, Sam reached out and stopped you, gently pulling you back.
“Y/N, all I see is that abandoned house over there. Do you want to tell us what’s really going on?”
Dean had turned back to look at you as well now. “What about all those groceries, huh? How come you were out so late by yourself?”
There was something about their questions and their kind expressions that made you break, and tears came to your eyes. Wiping them away, you told them all about where you were staying, about how you had to keep moving around. How there was no one to look after you. How you were all alone in the world.
“What happened to your parents?” Sam asked gently.
“Life,” you uttered softly. The brothers shared a look before seeming to come to a decision and looking back at you.
“How would you like to come with us?” Dean asked you. “We have a place, and it’s safe and secure. I think you might like it there. No more moving, no more late night grocery shopping. No more being alone,” he added.
You stared back at them in disbelief, hardly believing your ears. After all this time, could you finally find a place again? A place of your own? It almost sounded too good to be true, but maybe, just maybe, you could have two miracles tonight. “Yes,” you heard yourself say. “Yes, I’d love to go live with you.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hey! Um, okay, for the record, I know nothing about pool. Absolutely nothing. But I really wanted to include it in this imagine. So I had to go on wikihow to write this. So if anything’s wrong or whatever, please forgive me.
~~~~~
There was a clunk as the cue ball shot out from where you’d hit it, bumping into the other balls on the table. You straightened up, watching in satisfaction as a couple of the balls went into the pockets. You were just taking a swig of your beer when a voice close to your ear said, “You’re pretty good at that.” Turning around, you found yourself face to face with an incredibly attractive guy, probably around Sam’s age.
“Thank you,” you replied, giving him a coy smile as you put your empty bottle down on a side table. The music and laughter of the bar made it hard to hear, so you had to lean in very close to catch his next words.
“Of course,” he said, “I would offer a couple of suggestions for you to improve your technique.”
“Excuse me?” you answered, leaning away from him and pretending to take offence at his words. “My technique is flawless!”
He smirked at you, reaching out to take the pool cue from you. “There’s always room for improvement,” he told you, giving you a wink. You felt your face flush, and hoped that the poor lighting kept your face hidden from him. “The key,” he continued, turning away from you to face the table, “is in your stance.”
You watched as he positioned himself over the table, lining up the cue with the cue ball. He paused for a moment, before drawing the cue back and sending it into the ball. It shot forwards, hitting the other balls and sending them ricocheting off the edges of the table, with several of them sinking in the pockets. “Impressive,” you nodded, glancing at him in admiration.
“Here. You try.” He held the cue out to you, watching as you grabbed it and took up your position at the edge of the table. As you started to line it up, you felt him come up behind you, his arms reaching around to shift you into a better position. You had to stifle a gasp as his warm breath grazed your neck. “Good,” he whispered. “Now take a shot.”
You let the pool cue go, and laughed as the hit turned out better than it had ever gone before. But you barely had a moment to enjoy the shot before you felt the warmth of your admirer being jerked away from you. “What the -?” You spun around, only to find Dean pulling the guy you’d been talking to away.
“What are you doing, Dean?” Last you knew, he and Sam had been talking to a couple of attractive women over by the bar. You wondered if he’d had too much to drink, but he didn’t seem to be hurting the guy - just keeping him off you. “I’m so sorry,” you said to the guy. “This is my friend, Dean. But honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into him!”
“It’s alright,” he replied, sending a tight smile in your direction.
“Could I speak to you for a minute, Y/N?” Dean asked stiffly. You were about to say no, when the guy you were interested in glanced between the two of you and excused himself, leaving you to face Dean on your own.
“What the hell, Dean?” you demanded. “You just sent him away! And I didn’t even get his name or his number!” You felt yourself growing angry, and you glanced at Dean in disbelief. What right did he have to choose who you spoke with when you went out? And it wasn’t as if the guy had been hurting you - it was an innocent conversation. Perhaps a tad flirty, but innocent none the less. What right did Dean have to interrupt?
“I didn’t like the way he was touching you.” With every minute that passed, Dean seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable. Which served him right, seeing as he had ruined your evening.
“Dean, he was helping me with my pool!” you exclaimed. But the longer you looked at him, the more you noticed his fidgeting and nervousness. Dean, the guy who was always confident (and perhaps the tiniest bit arrogant at times), was nervous? “Oh. My. God,” you said, finally understanding. “You were jealous!”
“I was not!” Dean protested weakly. But he couldn’t meet your eye, which didn’t go far in the way of convincing you.
“Yeah, right!” you laughed, putting the pool cue back. You gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, smirking slightly, before standing up on tiptoes so that your mouth was in line with his ear. “You know,” you whispered, “If you ever want to play pool with me, all you have to do is ask.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hey. I finally got round to writing this! I hope you like it.
~~~~~
You stumbled into the bunker, your hands laden down with bags of groceries. The Winchesters and you took it in turns to do the grocery shopping, and this week, it had been your turn. So you had set off for the nearest town and, two hours later, you were back at the bunker, having picked up everything on the list.
“I’m back!” you called out, dumping the bags on the kitchen counter. Straightening up, you stretched your back, which was aching from the strain of all the shopping. Upon hearing your call, Dean came into the room, and took a quite peek in the bag nearest to him.
“How’d it go?” he asked, his face lighting up as he drew a bag of peanut M&Ms from a shopping bag.
“Good. I got everything on the list,” you told him, smiling at his childlike enthusiasm. “Aaand, I got a little something else for you. You can have it for lunch.”
“No way.” Dean’s jaw dropped, and he threw down the M&Ms as you pulled a pie from a bag. “I love you, Y/N!” he exclaimed, grabbing the pie from your hands and pulling you in for a hug.
“Sam, I got you something, too,” you told him, grinning as he walked into the room to grab a drink from the fridge. He glanced at you for the briefest moment, before snatching the salad you offered him from your hand and stalking out of the room.
“Hey, Sammy, get back here,” Dean called. Sam turned back around, leaning against the doorframe with a bored expression.
“What?”
“Not ‘what,’” Dean answered, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he looked at Sam. “Y/N here went out of her way to do something for you, and the least you could do is thank her.”
“Dean, really, you don’t have to -”
“No, I do,” Dean interrupted, turning to look at you now. “You’re always doing nice things for us, things you don’t have to do, and Sam never acts grateful for it. It’s time he showed you some respect.”
“Fine. Thank you, Y/N,” Sam said to you. To Dean, he added, “Can I go now?”
“No. I want to know why you do it.”
“Dean, this is getting out of hand,” you told him. “I’m sure Sam has his reasons. He doesn’t need to prove anything to us.”
“Y/N, I appreciate that you want to avoid any conflict, but I’m going to have this discussion with Sam regardless. You are a good person, and you don’t deserve this treatment.” You fell silent, knowing that once Dean made his mind up, you wouldn’t be able to do anything to change it.
The truth was, you had noticed the way Sam treated you. And it really did bother you, considering you knew you had done nothing to deserve that kind treatment. But you kept quiet about it, not wanting to make things worse. You figured that if you said nothing, he would just ignore you. Because in theory, indifference was so much easier to deal with than anger. But in practice, it’s a whole lot worse.
“Do we have to do this?” By now, Sam had stopped leaning on the doorframe and now stood up straight, his body rigid with tension.
“Yes, Sam, we do,” Dean stated flatly. “Now spill.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Every inch of him screamed reluctance, and when he finally opened his mouth to speak, it was as if he had to draw the words from deep down inside of him.
“Fine,” he exhaled. “Fine. How do I…? Alright. Y/N, are you…God, I can’t believe I’m asking this. Are you familiar with the Supernatural books?”
“The what?” you asked, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. What was he talking about? And where was he going with this?
“Basically, it was a series of books about our lives. Don’t look them up, though!” he added hastily, seeing your curious expression. “The point is…those books explain everything that has happened in our lives since we started hunting together. And…part of that story is my previous relationships. Which…haven’t gone so well.” Wait a minute. What? This conversation was in no way going the way you had predicted. You held your breath, waiting for Sam to continue.
But Sam seemed to have run out of steam, unsure of how to continue. Looking around, you noticed for the first time that Dean was no longer in the room. He must’ve slipped out while you were busy focussing on what Sam had to say. “Sam,” you said quietly. “What are you trying to say?”
“Y/N, I…I love you. And the reason I treat you like dirt is because I don’t want you to go the same way as everyone else I’ve liked before. I figured that if I pushed you away, I could keep you safe,” he finished quietly.
You stood frozen, not knowing how to react. What were you supposed to say? After months of thinking that Sam hated you, you were finally finding out that he loved you? “You have a really funny way of showing it, you know,” you said to him, your voice trembling with suppressed anger.
“I know,” Sam replied, picking up on this. “But I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Ironic, isn’t it, that the very way you go about protecting me turns out to be the reason I’m hurting in the first place.” Sam hung his head in shame, not able to look at you after realising just how he’d made you feel.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Folding your arms, you said, “Well, sorry doesn’t really go that far.”
“Then let me make it up to you,” he said earnestly, finally looking up at you again. “I’ll treat you properly, I won’t be a jerk to you any more. Can you give me another chance?” He looked so eager to please, his expression so hopeful, that you found you couldn’t turn him down.
“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you answered.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hey. So I sort of cut Sam out of this, but aside from that, I hope it’s alright. Fair warning - it’s kind of long.
I quite liked writing this, actually. Mostly because I like the idea of Adam being freed from Hell.
~~~~~
You pulled your car into the bunker’s garage, cutting off the engine. The Winchesters had gone on a hunt a fortnight ago, a simple salt and burn. They were supposed to be back within two days, but then you’d gotten a call from them saying that ‘something had come up’ but 'not to worry, they’d be back soon.’ Which had, of course, left you stuck in limbo for a while. You couldn’t go on any hunts, because you wouldn’t have back-up if something went wrong. But at the same time, you couldn’t get involved in much else in case the brothers needed you.
But last night, the brothers had finally called to tell you that they were back at the bunker. So first thing this morning, you had set off, drinking a coffee as you drove over. And now that you had finally arrived, you were set to give them an earful for leaving you out of the loop.
“Two calls in two weeks, with one of those being last night. Not exactly what I’d consider keeping in touch,” you seethed, slamming the door behind you. Sam and Dean started, looking up at you in shock. They both looked exhausted, and you wondered just how much sleep they’d gotten over the past two weeks. Sam opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off before he could start.
“Look, I get that you were away longer than expected. Shit happens, I get it. But you couldn’t have spared a moment here and there to let me know what was happening? Christ, I was worried about you guys! But could I do anything? No! Because you idiots decided that you were better off on your own and so I had to wait here, wondering if you were dead yet! Oh - who are you?” Your anger subsided momentarily, as you took in the third man in the room, one you hadn’t noticed before. His eyes were sunken into his face, smudged with black rings, and you noticed that he kept twitching and darting his eyes around the room, as though he expected something to jump out at him.
“Y/N, this is Adam, our brother,” Dean introduced you. “Well, half-brother, technically. Adam, this is Y/N, a good friend of ours.”
“Your what?” you demanded. “Are you fucking - I can’t believe this. You never thought to mention in the whole two years that I’ve known you that you have a brother?”
“Well, we didn’t know him that well!” Sam said in their defence.
“Whatever,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose. As much as you loved them, the Winchesters had the ability to infuriate you like no one else.
“Look, Y/N, we really need to catch up on some sleep,” Dean said. “Do you think you could look after Adam for a bit?”
“Sure,” you sighed, watching them leave the room. After their backs had disappeared from sight, you turned to Adam, tucking your thumbs into your belt loops.
“So,” you began, drawing out the 'o’ sound. “Can I get you a drink or something? I reckon you could use something like that. You look like you’ve been through hell.” Adam flinched, and you wondered what he’d found fault with in your innocent comment. “Sorry, did I say something wrong?”
“It’s just…I kind of have been through Hell. Very literally,” Adam responded, a haunted expression colouring his features. “I’ve been there since about…2010, I guess.” You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand. Time in Hell was longer than on Earth, and you couldn’t begin to imagine what Adam had gone through.
“How are you still talking right now?” you asked, thinking in horror of the kind of trauma he must’ve been through.
“I don’t know,” he whispered hollowly, gazing up at you with empty eyes.
“I’m going to get you some tea,” you decided. “Or alcohol. Or maybe alcohol in the tea.” Adam’s mouth quirked upwards, but the smile never reached his eyes.
“That’d be great,” he answered, sinking back against the cushions of the lounge, while you got busy preparing him a drink.
—-
Over the coming months, you stayed at the bunker, having made the decision to be there to help ease Adam through post-Hell trauma. You were practically dead yourself, having been woken up most nights by Adam’s screaming as he lived the torture all over again. The only thing worse than nightmares born out of fear were those born out of reality.
Adam was adjusting so much better than you would’ve thought. Hell, the fact that he was still walking was a miracle within itself. You and the Winchesters had passed the days filling him in on current events, letting him know that he was back in the real world, assuring him that he was safe within the confines of the bunker. But you were treading on eggshells around him. Sam and Dean had both been to Hell, and they knew just how easy it was to bring back that trauma.
Out of everyone, Adam seemed to have connected most with you. While Sam and Dean really tried to help him, sometimes their own memories just got too much, and they couldn’t do it. But you didn’t have those horrors in your past, so you kept at it, bringing Adam back into the light whenever the darkness threatened to take hold.
But it wasn’t just Adam who connected with you. You found that you felt a connection to him as well. And as inappropriate as it was, you found yourself developing feelings for him. The guy had spent the equivalent of several centuries in Hell, but instead of trying to help him, you were crushing on him.
That thought kept you awake many nights, and tonight was no excuse. Usually, you didn’t have to worry, because Adam woke up from his nightmares and provided you with a distraction. But amazingly, he seemed to be sleeping through the night tonight.
With a groan, you eased yourself out of bed, heading to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate to help you get to sleep. You had just put the kettle on when you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you found Adam walking into the room. “Hey, what are you doing up?” you asked drowsily.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered, a rueful smile on his face.
“Like, nightmares, or…” your voice trailed off as your eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of there being something wrong.
“Nah, just thinking about stuff. Nothing to worry about,” he assured you.
“Alright. I actually had the same problem. Did you want some hot chocolate?” You asked, opening the cupboard and reaching in for your mug. When he nodded, you grabbed an extra one and put them both down in the counter. While you waited for the water to boil, you spooned some chocolate powder into the mugs, and when the hot chocolates were finally ready, the two of you sat down together.
It was quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds being the slurping of beverages and the clinks of mugs against the counter as they were put down. When only the dregs remained, you decided to break the silence. “So what were you thinking about?”
“What?”
“You said that your thoughts were keeping you awake,” you elaborated. “What were you thinking about?”
“Oh, just thinking about how much everything has changed while I was…gone.” He went quite, and you regretted saying anything.
“Sorry,” you apologised. “I can’t imagine what it must be like for you. I wish I hadn’t mentioned it.”
“Hey, don’t worry. It’s not your fault,” he told you. “In fact, you’ve probably been the biggest help in all this. So thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome,” you answered softly. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Adam had been staring at you, a faint smirk on his face. Your cheeks heated up, and you felt yourself growing self conscious.
“You, ah, have a bit…” His let his voice trail off, instead choosing to point at his upper lip. Reaching up to touch your own, you felt a milk moustache.
“Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing,” you laughed, rubbing it off. “Is it gone?”
“Ah, hang on. There’s a little bit…let me get it for you.” He reached across, wiping at it with the pad of his thumb. For a moment, everything went still. There was only Adam, his eyes gazing into yours and his hand resting by your mouth. And then the clock started again, and it was over.
Clearing your throat, you glanced down, feeling your face get redder than it already was. “So what were you thinking about?” he asked, shaking you from your thoughts.
“When?”
“When you couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh. That,” you said. “It’s nothing, really. It’s stupid.” You wracked your brains desperately for something else to talk about, but came up empty.
“I bet it’s not,” he replied, smiling encouragingly.
“I was thinking about you,” you muttered reluctantly, avoiding his eyes.
“What about me?” he asked curiously, nudging you with his foot.
“Stupid things. Like, the way your hair is all messy when you wake up. Or the way your mouth quirks up on one side when I tell a joke. Or the way you - never mind. Stupid stuff.” You tried to cut yourself off, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and the truth was out.
“Doesn’t sound stupid to me.” You stopped, halfway out of your chair. You had been on your way back to bed, so sure that you had ruined things between the two of you.
“Come again?” you asked in surprise. Surely he didn’t…no. He couldn’t feel the same way. He was still recovering. Surely he wouldn’t want to get involved in a relationship with anyone just yet.
“I like you, Y/N. A lot,” he told you, standing up and pulling you with him so that the two of you stood facing each other. Your toes were touching, and his arms were wrapped gently around your elbows, holding you to him.
“I like you, too,” you whispered, closing the gap between you. His kiss was soft, hesitant. You could taste the fear, the torment he had been through. But at the same time, you could feel the hope that he held, could sense that this was his second chance at life.
“What the hell?” Dean demanded. “I come into my kitchen in the middle of the night and find you both making out?”
You and Adam pulled apart, turning to face Dean. But Adam’s hand never quite left you, moving to rest on the small of your back. “We were just -” you began.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Dean interrupted. “Adam, what the hell are you doing? She’s like a sister to us!”
“I’m your brother!” Adam protested, looking at Dean in disbelief.
“So? That doesn’t give you free passage to our friends!” Dean retorted.
“Dean! What is wrong with you?” you hissed. “I don’t know if you’ve realised, but I am fully capable of making my own choices. And I chose to kiss Adam!”
Dean’s expression turned slightly apologetic, but he still didn’t back down. “I’m just worried, Y/N. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Dean,” you sighed. “That’s a part of life, unfortunately. But even so, I don’t think Adam would ever deliberately hurt me. Would you?” you asked him, turning to look at him.
“Of course not,” he answered, slightly offended that you had to ask.
“See?” you said, turning back to Dean. “Besides, if he does, you’ll have my permission to kick his arse. Alright?” Dean grudgingly agreed, allowing you to move on. “Well, now that we’ve got that sorted, would you mind, Dean? Adam and I are a little busy right now.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
You’re so sweet! This message really made my day. And I’m glad you like my other stuff.
So I decided to write a fem!reader x Charlie imagine, which I read a prompt for a couple of weeks ago on sammy-and-supernatural’s blog. So I hope you guys like it!
~~~~~
“So,” Charlie started, pressing the stop button as the credits began to roll on The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. “When were you going to tell them?”
“Tell who what?” you murmured, your mind still in Middle Earth.
“Um, hello!” Charlie replied, pulling her head up off your shoulder and sitting up properly. “When were you going to tell Sam and Dean about us?”
“Oh, that,” you answered, placing the popcorn bowl, empty of everything except a few un-popped kernels, onto the table. “Well, you know, I kinda just…”
“Thought you’d keep putting it off until they worked it out for themselves?”
“Of course not!” you protested. At Charlie’s dubious look, you added, “I was kind of hoping they wouldn’t notice.” It wasn’t that you didn’t care about Charlie, it was just that you liked it this way - just the two of you. You could spend time together without your brothers worrying about you or trying to interfere, and you loved that. It was stolen moments like this that you lived for, moments where you could forget about monsters and shotguns and just spend time with spend time with your girlfriend, like a normal girl.
“Y/N!” Charlie admonished. “You can’t just not tell them!”
“It’s got nothing to do with you!” you hastily assured her, seeing the brief flash of hurt in her eyes. “Or me, for that matter. I mean, they’re totally supportive of my sexual orientation. It’s just, well, they’ve never actually met anyone I’ve dated before, and my brothers can be a bit…”
“Overprotective?” Charlie suggested, giving you a knowing look.
“That noticeable, huh?” you answered wryly. Charlie smirked, giving you a look which suggested that you already knew the answer. “I don’t get why they have to be, though! I mean, I am an adult! A fully grown human being!”
“You wouldn’t know it,” Charlie muttered under her breath. You shoved her shoulder, grinning despite yourself. “Seriously, though, you’re their little sister. They’re just looking out for you.”
“I know,” you sighed. “But can we please stop talking about this for now? I just want to enjoy today while it’s just you and me, alright?” You leaned into her, so close that the tips of your noses brushed against each other.
“Deal,” she whispered, closing the gap between you.
The sound of the door being shoved open startled, causing you and Charlie to jump away from one another. You hadn’t even heard footsteps approaching, but it would seem that you and Charlie were no longer alone.
“Dean!” you cried, jumping up to greet him as Sam appeared in the doorway behind him. “Sam! What are you guys doing home so soon?” You cringed as you heard yourself speak, and tried to stop sounding so high-pitched and squeaky.
“We finished up with the case early…” Sam replied, staring at you and Charlie in utter confusion.
“What the hell is going on?” Dean demanded, barging into the room.
“Well, um, we were - we were just, um,” Charlie mumbled.
“We were kissing,” you stated, taking a deep breath. You felt Charlie grab your hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. With this show of support, you gathered up the courage to say what you had to. “Because she’s my girlfriend.”
The moment the words left your lips, Sam and Dean’s attitudes changed completely. The bewilderment drained completely from Sam’s face, and he stood glancing between you and Charlie with a huge grin in his face. Dean, on the other hand, had stopped looking angry, and had instead taken on a fiercely protective stance. “Charlie, could I speak with you for a minute?” he asked in a strained voice.
“Oh. My. God.” you stated, stopping Charlie as she headed towards Dean. “You are NOT going to have the big brother talk with my girlfriend.”
“Y/N, just let me deal with this, alright?”
“No!” you exclaimed. “Dean, Charlie and I have been seeing each other for three months! We really do care for each other. I know I would never do anything to deliberately hurt her, and I’m sure she feels the same about me.” You could see Dean’s resolve weakening, so you carried on, your tone much more imploring now. “Please, guys, I can handle this on my own. I’m an adult - I don’t need my brothers to watch out for me every step of the way.”
“But we want to,” Dean replied, standing firm.
“I know you do,” you murmured, walking to him and taking his hand. “But sometimes, you just have to trust that I know what I’m doing.” Dean stared at you for several long moments, his eyes searching your face. After a minute, he nodded.
“Alright,” he said to you. “Alright. But Charlie?”
“Yes?”
“You ever hurt my baby sister, and I will make you regret it,” Dean said. “Understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” she replied, giving him a mock salute. But you could see that underneath the joking tone, she had taken everything he said seriously.
“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way,” you began, “would you two leave us? We have a Lord of the Rings marathon to continue.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! By the way, I’ve heard that people are posting some really disturbing images in several popular tags, including the Supernatural tag. So just be careful if you go to look through there.
Please don’t repost without giving credit!
Hi. Guys, I am so, so, SO sorry for the lack of updates. It’s just last week, I had to put on a play, and there were four performances, and I was working on a science assessment as well. And this week, I had to finish some maths homework and an essay, and I saw TFIOS again, as well. But that’s over now! The rest of my school holidays shall be devoted to reading, writing and watching TV shows!
And anon, I love Garth as well. I think he’s epic. So I hope I did him justice.
~~~~~
You daughter squirmed in your arms, struggling to get down. Laughing, you lowered her to the ground, hearing the crunch of leaves beneath her little purple gumboots. With a squeal, she toddled off, her gaze set on the play equipment. “Ally, be careful!” you called out, taking a step after her.
“She’s all right,” your husband said from beside you. “She’s a kid. They’re pretty durable.” Looking around, you found Garth watching your daughter as she clambered up the slide.
“I know,” you sighed. “But I just worry about her. I know there are worse things out there, but still…” Your voice trailed off as your thoughts drifted somewhere much darker than swing sets and sand pits. When you had met Garth, he’d been living a normal life. But he’d told you all about his past, back when he used to hunt things that go bump in the night - demons and ghosts and the cast of nightmares.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing your shoulder and turning you to face him, as if he knew where your thoughts had taken you. “Everything’s alright,” he assured you. “Now come on. It looks nice and shady under that tree. We should set up the picnic there.”
The two of you went over and Garth shook out the blanket, spreading it out in a spot that was relatively leaf-free. As you sat down and took out some sandwiches, you kept your eye on your daughter, making sure that she was alright.
“Look!” she cried, running up to you after about ten minutes. “It’s a flower!” She thrust her hand at you, revealing the crumpled daisy clenched in her fist.
“It’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, pulling her into your lap. “How about,” you started, pulling several more daisies from the ground beside you, “we make a daisy chain.”
“What’s that?” Ally asked, frowning up at you in confusion.
“It’s like a little crown made of daisies,” you explained, threading a daisy through the slit you’d made in the stem of another. You repeated the process several more times as your daughter looked on in fascination. At one point, you heard a click and looked up to find Garth holding his phone up, having just taken a photo of the two of you.
“I couldn’t not take it. The two of you just looked so gorgeous,” he said.
You smiled back at him, looking down at the now complete daisy chain. “There you go, beautiful!” you said, handing it to Ally. “Are you going to put it on?”
“Nup!” she giggled.
“What are you going to do it?” you queried.
“Not telling!” she laughed. Before you could say anything else, she stood up, stumbling towards Garth. “Close your eyes, Daddy!” He did as requested, a grin on his face. Ally slipped the daisy chain around his neck, then pulled back to admire her handiwork. “Open your eyes, Daddy!”
As Garth looked down at the daisy chain he was now sporting, Ally giggled and ran back into your eyes. “Looks like you’re the gorgeous one now, Garth!” you told him. He grinned back at you, wrapping his arm around you and your daughter.
“I love days like this,” he murmured, planting a kiss on Ally’s forehead, which she brushed off with another giggle.
“Here’s to many more, then,” you replied.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
rule #1 always post the rules. rule#2 answer the questions the person who tagged you asked, then write 11 new ones. rule #3 tag 11 people then link them in the post. rule #4 tell them you tagged them rule #5 tell the person that tagged you that you’ve answered the questions…. (if you don’t feel comfortable answering that’s totally fine don’t feel pressured.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, so I was tagged in this by cryingandlaughing
1. Favorite band? And or favorite singer?
I am ADDICTED to Arctic Monkeys at the moment. And I love Taylor Swift too.
2. write or addicted to reading fan fiction?
Well, this is a fanfiction blog so clearly I write it, but I love reading it too.
3. One thing you could go back and change?(besides birth)
When I was 10, I found out that I’d gone blind in my right eye, and that would probably be the thing about my life that I would change. But then again, life is a domino effect. And a lot of things that happened to me happened because of that. So I probably wouldn’t change it, just because I wouldn’t be the same person I am now if I hadn’t gone through that.
4. current TV series you’re watching ??
As in something I’m in the middle of? Well, I’m towards the end of On e Upon A Time at the moment, and I recently started Teen Wolf. And I’m sort of watching Vampire Diaries, but I haven’t watched it in ages. And then there’s heaps of other shows which I’m up to date with.
5.psp xBox wii PC or none??
I’d probably say Wii, but I don’t really use much of that stuff anyway.
6.pancakes or waffles?
Pancakes.
7. iPhone or droid?
I don’t know. I have an android phone, but I also love my iPod Touch and iPad. But my android has a better battery life than my Mum’s iPhone, so I’m probably gonna go with that. As long as I can still have my other Apple devices.
8.favorite book
The Harry Potter series. And Deathly Hallows is my favourite out of those. But as a stand alone? I love the Perks of Being A Wallflower. And a thousand other things. I just love books.
9.any pets? Brothers or sisters?
We used to have a dog and a bird, but they both died. And I have 2 ferrets at the moment. I also have a brother.
10.do u cut the tags off your clothes?
(The ones on the inside sewn in)
Not the tags, but I cut the little ribbon things that you’re supposed to hang them up with. You know the ones I mean?
11. Do use your phone while using toilet? XD
No.
And seeing as I don’t know who to tag, I’m going to break the rules (rebel. I know) and leave these questions for any of you to answer if you want.
1. Have you ever written yourself into the plot of a book/series? If so, who?
2. Have you ever been in a play?
3. A character you relate to? It can be from anything.
4. If you’re a Potterhead, have you ever made an Unbreakable Vow with someone instead of just promising?
5. How sacred do you consider a pinky promise to be?
6. Do you regret signing up for Tumblr?
7. Facebook - yay or nay?
8. Would you rather spend the day with Umbridge or Metatron?
9. What’s the weather like today?
10. 1 + 1 = ?
11. How much wood can a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck chucked all day?
If you decide to answer any of these, send me the link in the fan mail box. I’d love to see what you say!
Hi. I wasn’t sure what you were after, so I hope this is alright!
~~~~~
It was the sound of pacing footsteps that woke you, pulling you out from the depths of sleep. Pushing the covers away, you squinted into the centre of the motel room, blinking the sleep from your eyes. “Cas?” you muttered groggily, attempting to prop yourself up on your elbows. Immediately, Castiel stopped his laps of the room and turned to look at you.
“Y/N. I hope I did not wake you. I am truly sorry if I have done so,” he apologised, a guilty look on his face.
“No, no, it’s fine,” you replied, running a hand over your face. You figured you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now, so you might as well talk to him. “What’s up?”
“What makes you suspect something is wrong?”
“Well,” you began, “you’ve practically worn away the carpet with all that pacing. People don’t generally do that unless something’s wrong. So spill,” you finished, sitting up properly now and patting the bed beside you. Cas warily eyed the spot you had indicated, before perching himself uneasily on the edge of your bed.
“It’s just…with this fading grace, none of you are going to need me anymore. I don’t know what use I’ll be. With anything,” he told you, his gaze directed at the faded patterns covering the motel floor.
“Cas,” you said, gently placing your hand on his arm, “What are you talking about? We’re a team. You, me, Sam and Dean. Team Free Will. Of course we need you! You’re amazing. And honestly? We probably wouldn’t be here anymore if it wasn’t for you.”
“That’s the thing,” Cas said heavily, finally turning to look at you. “Everything I’ve ever done has been because of my powers, the powers that come with being an angel. With my grace gone…I’ll be left with nothing. I’ll be nothing.”
In that moment, he looked so distressed, so hopeless, and you could feel your heart aching for him. You thought back over everything he’d done for the three of you - raising Dean from Hell, healing you all on multiple occasions, giving you insider information on the angels’ plans. All of those things had only been possible because of his grace. But then you thought of other things, things that had nothing to do with him being an angel, and everything to do with him being Cas.
“Listen to me, Cas,” you said firmly. “You will never be nothing to us. You know why? Because your powers aren’t the only reason we keep you around.” Cas looked doubtful, so you continued. “You want to know why we care about you? Because you’re loyal, and kind and protective. On so many occasions, you’ve given up everything for us. You’re a good person, and you do everything you can to rectify the mistakes you make. And all of those things are why you’ll never be nothing. Because you’re incredible.”
Cas was gazing at you with a mix of gratitude and amazement, as well as a heavy dose of compassion. It was then that you realised that Cas had probably never been told anything like that before. He was always Castiel, a warrior, an angel of the Lord, someone expected to have immense power. But here you were, telling him that it’s okay for him to just be Cas, a sweet and caring guy. And because of it, he was looking at you like you’d given him the world.
“Y/N,” he choked out, reaching for your hand and clasping it tightly, “You have no idea how much those words mean to me. I am…very privileged to have the three of you in my life.” Your face softened into a smile, and you looked back at him fondly.
“We love you too, Cas. But if you ever wake me up early again,” you warned, “I will kick your arse.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I know I keep saying it, but I’m going to get back into regular updates. I only have one week left of term two, and then I have two weeks off. So I should clear out my inbox then. And I’m really sorry if you’ve been waiting on a request!
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. I hope this was what you meant! And sorry I didn’t post this earlier. It’s just Saturday night, I was out all day and Supanova and then I went to a party, so I didn’t get home until 11:15pm. And then yesterday, I had homework, and then I finished Faking It, started Teen Wolf and watched more Once Upon A Time. But I mean it this time! I’m going to go back to my regular updates again!
~~~~~
You sat on the edge of the footpath, shivering under the blanket that the paramedics had given you for shock. The edges of the blanket were clutched tightly in your hands, pulled tightly together underneath your chin. When the emergency services had arrived, you’d told them all about the attack, how the creature had leapt forward, pinning the man down under its weight. How the man had gone limp, his face turning pale as the blood made its way from his body. How you’d been standing on the other side of the road, waiting for the bus when you saw it happen.
But that was only the half of it. The one thing you hadn’t mentioned, which you couldn’t even make sense of yourself, was the fact that the creature you had mentioned wasn’t really a creature at all. It was a woman.
She’d emerged from the trees lining the road, her eyes fixed on the man. She hadn’t even noticed you watching as she lunged forward, her teeth extending out from her mouth, burying themselves in the man’s neck.
If you were living between the pages of a book, you knew that this would be the part where the protagonist is introduced to the world of the supernatural, when they see this attack and demand answers. The part where they find out that vampires are real.
But this wasn’t a book. The movies are fiction. None of this was real - you must’ve just imagined the whole thing. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this had just looked so real. And try as you might, you couldn’t come up with any other plausible explanation for what you’d just seen.
“Hey.” You looked up, finding two men in suits approaching you. “I’m Agent Angus. This is my partner, Agent Young. We’re with the FBI.”
“Really? The FBI are involved? Wow. I didn’t realise that you guys investigated this sort of thing,” you said, glancing between the two men.
“Well, we were passing through and thought we’d better check it out,” the shorter of the two explained.
“I heard that you were on the other side of the road when the attack took place,” the taller agent said. “Could you tell us what you saw? Any details you can provide will be really helpful.”
You froze under their watchful stares. How the hell were you supposed to tell them what had just happened without being written off as crazy? And it wasn’t like these were small town cops - they were the FBI. “I…um-I didn’t really see much,” you lied. “I heard a scream so I looked up and I just saw him lying there with blood smeared everywhere.”
“Did you see what attacked the man?” the taller man asked patiently.
“No, I didn’t,” you replied, avoiding their eyes. In your peripheral vision, you could see them turn to look at one another, and the shorter man muttered something to the taller man, who nodded and walked off.
“Hey,” the remaining FBI agent said, crouching down in front of you. “My name’s Dean, and I can tell you that whatever you saw, whatever you think happened, I’m not gonna think you’re crazy.”
“Wh-what are you talking about?” you questioned shakily.
“Look,” Dean began, “I have seen a lot of weird crap in my time. And trust me, nothing about this attack seems normal. And whatever killed that guy, it’s going to be very dangerous, and a lot more people could end up like him,” he said, nodding towards the sheet-covered stretcher that the paramedics were carting off. “Please. Tell me.”
You don’t know what it was. Maybe it was the pleading tone in his voice, or the fact that he acknowledged that the attack you’d just witnessed was far from ordinary. But whatever it was, you felt safe around him, so you decided to trust him. “I was just standing there, waiting for the bus to come and this…this woman just lunged at the man, and-and she just pinned him underneath her body and it was like she drank his blood or something and I know that makes no sense but that’s what I saw.” Throughout your recount, you’d gradually gotten more and more worked up, to the point where you couldn’t say anymore because your throat had closed up.
“It’s okay,” Dean told you, shifting so that he sat on the curb beside you, rubbing a soothing hand in circles on your back. “What you saw? That was a vampire. My brother and I…we hunt that kind of thing. Stop them hurting people. And I know that it seems overwhelming right now, but everything’s going to work out alright. Sam and I are going to kill this thing, and then you can forget all about it and go back to living your life.”
“What did you mean by ‘that kind of thing?’” you hiccuped, wiping your eyes with the hem of your sleeve.
“Huh?”
“You said 'that kind of thing,’” you explained. “That would imply that there are other things like that out there. What are they?”
“Uh, well…” Dean started, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “There are werewolves, wendigoes, demons, angels -”
“Hang on,” you interrupted incredulously. “You hunt angels?”
“Believe it or not, they aren’t all as great as they’re cracked up to be,” Dean replied frankly.
“So tell me more about them, then. Because you sound like you’re crazy, but what I saw before was crazier, so I can’t really judge.”
“Now really isn’t the best time…” Dean said.
“Oh. Right. Sorry, I’m being stupid. I’m sure you and your brother are really busy.” You lowered your gaze, trying to hide your embarrassment from him. Of course he wasn’t going to sit around explaining his life to you. Why would you ever think otherwise?
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he hastily assured you. “It’s just that Sam and I have to sort this out. But maybe…tonight we could…go out somewhere? And I’ll explain it to you over drinks?” he asked nervously.
“Like a date?” you asked shyly.
“Well, if you wanted it to be,” Dean replied.
You smiled, the first time you had done so since witnessing the attack. “I think I’d like that.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi, this isn’t an update (although I’m halfway through an imagine which I’ll hopefully post tomorrow) but I just have to say this.
It’s my birthday!!!!!!!
AND it’s Friday the 13th. So tonight, we went on this Ghost Tour at this old place nearby which is supposedly haunted. I know, I know, that sounds like the first five minutes of Supernatural, but it was AWESOME. Even if I was freaking out the idea time (I swear I heard noises). It was also really interesting to hear about the history of the house.
Anyway, sorry for the non-update, but I just wanted to talk about that because it’s a supernatural experience, and this is a Supernatural page.
Bye!
Hi. I’m so sorry that I took forever to write this! I honestly starting writing it last night, but I didn’t get to finish it because some IDIOT in my geography class decided that it was beneath him to do his section of a group assignment so I had to finish it all at the least minute and I didn’t have time to finish this. But I hope you guys like it!
~~~~~
You circled the block for the third time, and you could sense the frustration radiating in waves out from Dean, your boyfriend. The three of you had come out to this little suburban neighbourhood after Sam had read of a few strange happenings in an online newspaper article. But now that you had driven out here, it seemed as though another death had taken place and as a result, Dean couldn’t find anywhere to park Baby amongst all the police cars and curious neighbours.
“Damn it,” Dean muttered under his breath, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of his right hand.
“Just go park further down,” Sam advised. “Y/N and I can get out here and we’ll wait for you.”
“Yeah, I think we’re gonna have to do that,” Dean answered, a scowl on his face as he slowed down to let you out. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Alright,” you answered, opening up the door of the backseat. Just before you stepped out, you turned back to face Dean. “Hey, it doesn’t matter. Soon enough, this case will be sorted out and we can go back home, where you won’t have to worry about having no parking spaces.”
Dean’s expression softened as he returned your smile. “I know. I guess I’m just kind of pissed that all these people are going to get in the way of our investigation.”
As Dean drove off to park the Impala, you looked around at the people assembled outside the crime scene tape surrounding the house. “Oh, God,” you moaned. “They’ve already called in a real detective. We’re going to have to do some serious damage control.” You nodded your head towards a skinny guy who looked out of place in a suit.
“Hang on a minute,” Sam began. “Is that…Garth?” At the sound of Sam’s voice, the skinny guy turned around, his face breaking in a grin as he saw Sam.
“Sam! Long time no see!” he exclaimed, pulling Sam into a bear hug. Sam awkwardly reached up to pat Garth on the back while you looked on in amusement. Sam did give out hugs, but this guy was much more enthusiast about the whole institution than anyone you’d ever met before.
“Um, Garth, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Garth, an old hunting buddy of ours,” Sam said once Garth had pulled away.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you said politely, offering a hand which Garth eagerly shook.
“I’m just going to go talk to some of the witnesses,” Sam told you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You and Garth wait here for Dean, alright?” You nodded in response, turning back to Garth as Sam disappeared into the crowd.
“You know,” Garth began, “you’re really pretty.”
“Oh, thanks,” you replied, a faint blush gracing your cheeks.
“It must hurt,” he said.
“I-what?” You were baffled at his choice of words.
“I mean when you fell from Heaven. Because you’re an angel. I mean, you’re so pretty that you look like an angel…I’m not doing a very good job of this, am I?” He looked so innocent in that moment that you felt your heart melt a little.
“Garth, it was very sweet. But I’m not interested. Sorry. I’m actually in a relationship with -”
“Me,” Dean’s cold voice cut in. You looked up as a placed a protective arm around you, clearly back from parking Baby. “So no, she definitely isn’t interested.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Garth gushed, almost tripping over himself in an attempt to apologise. “I didn’t mean to offend either of you. I didn’t realise. But I’m really sorry -”
“Garth,” you interrupted. “It’s fine. You didn’t know. But would you mind just excusing the two of us for a minute?” Garth nodded, visibly relieved at being pardoned. You pulled Dean by the arm, waiting until you were out of earshot of Garth before saying, “What the hell was that?”
“He was hitting on you!” Dean burst out in indignation.
“Yeah, I realise that,” you told him. “But it’s not like he’s some sleazy guy in a bar. Garth honestly seems like a really sweet guy.”
“That’s beside the point,” Dean retorted.
“Actually, you know what? I get it now,” you answered, suddenly realising what had gotten under your boyfriend’s skin. “This wasn’t about me, was it? This was about you. You were jealous.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.
“I agree,” you replied. “But that doesn’t make my theory any less plausible. I just don’t get why you’re jealous. I mean, you and I? We’re tight. I really think there’s something between us that I’ve never felt with anyone else. So I honestly don’t get why you’re worried.”
Dean took a deep breath. “Y/N…it’s just…I keep thinking you’re going to wake up one morning and think, ‘Why am I even with this guy? Why aren’t I in a relationship without all this baggage and extra crap?’ And I worry that one day, you’ll act on those thoughts.” There was a slight tremor in his voice, and even though he was standing tall, you could detect a slight hunching of his shoulders, as though he was trying to fold in on himself as a form of protection.
You reached up, cupping the palms of your hands around his cheeks. “Hey,” you whispered, holding his face in place so he had to meet your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere. You know why?” He shook his head, a cue for you to continue. “Because I love you. And yeah, maybe some days we have to work harder at our relationship than others. But that’s what love is. You take all the crap, and baggage and stress and you keep going, because it’s worth it. You’re worth it, Dean. And don’t you ever, for one second, think otherwise.”
“I guess I don’t really have any reason to be jealous, then, huh?” he said, laughing nervously. You grinned, going up on tiptoes to place a light kiss on his lips.
“Now you’re getting it.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Sorry for the lack of updates. But last night I had the geography thing, and on Saturday I saw TFIOS. It broke me. But it was incredible, a brilliant adaptation.
Anyway, please don’t repost without giving credit! And requests will HOPEFULLY be open again in a couple of weeks.
Hey! Sorry about the wait. And I get that this isn’t my best, but I just didn’t know how to finish it.
Just a reminder, MY REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED. Hopefully, I’ll have them open again within a couple of weeks. I’m just trying to work through them. But a lot of my assignments are done now, so I have more time.
I hope you like it!
~~~~~
“I still don’t see why we have to do this,” Dean muttered darkly, lugging his duffel bag along as you approached your boarding gate. You and Sam sighed, having had this conversation several times over the past few hours.
“Because,” you began, “there’s a serious case a few states over and the Impala needs servicing.” You raised your voice for the last part, trying to make yourself heard over the sound of the arrival and departure announcements coming through over the speakers. “Besides, the flight’s, like, four hours or something. That’s nothing.”
Dean cut you a look, shifting his bag to his other hand. “A lot can happen in four hours.”
“The odds of dying in a plane crash are 11 million to one or something!” you exclaimed. Dean ignored you and walked off to sit down in the area surrounding the gate, muttering something about ‘crappy luck’ and 'freaking planes.’ You turned to Sam, fixing him with an incredulous expression. “Is he for real?”
“He gets really freaked out on planes,” Sam explained with a shrug of his shoulders. You rolled your eyes.
“Typical,” you muttered. “The guy who could take down an entire army of monsters and demons singlehandedly gets scared by a lump of flying metal. Although it’s not as dumb as being scared of clowns, I suppose,” you added as an afterthought, ignoring Sam’s indignant look as you went to go sit beside Dean.
About an hour later, the three of you had boarded the plane, you and Dean sitting next to one another with Sam on the other side of the aisle, and the flight attendant was running you through the various safety procedures. When she mentioned that take off would be soon, you felt Dean tense beside you, his hand gripping the armrest so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered in a strained voice, tugging his seatbelt away from his body, as though trying to give himself room to breathe. Turning towards him, you pulled his arms back down by his sides, rubbing circles across his skin.
“Hey,” you murmured. “Everything’s gonna be alright, Dean. You just need to breathe. Come on, with me now. Alright?” You slowed down your breathing, him joining in so that your breaths were synchronised. Slowly, his breathing became less shallow and fell into a regular rhythm. “Is that better?”
He nodded slightly, his frantic eyes meeting yours. “Y/N-” his voice cut off, a strangled sound escaping his throat.
“Hey,” you soothed. “You don’t need to say anything, Dean. It’s fine, okay? Everything’s going to be alright. If I have to, I will take over the running of this plane to make sure it doesn’t crash. You got that? You’re going to be just fine.”
Dean watched you, his eyes trained on your face so that he wouldn’t see the land becoming smaller outside the windows as you pulled away from the airport. After a while, his hands began to unclench from the armrests and some of the colour returned to his cheeks. “Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks,” he told you. He didn’t say what for, but he didn’t need to. You knew exactly what he meant. You smiled at him.
“Don’t mention it.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Hi. This isn’t my best because I haven’t written much lately. And I’m sorry about that, by the way. But I’ve had so many assessments lately. At least now, there’s only one left, but that’s all being done in class.
Also, I got City of Heavenly Fire, so I had to read that. I finished it two days ago. Does any one here like TMI? I thought the book was INCREDIBLE. Heartbreaking, but fantastic.
Anyway, I hope you like this imagine!
~~~~~
You took a deep breath, feeling your fingernails dig into the palm of your hand as you clenched your fist around the object you were holding. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but for all your nervousness, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pocket of excitement bubble up inside you.
Stepping into the library, you headed towards where Sam was hunched over a book of lore. “Sammy?” You hopped onto the desk beside his research, brushing a couple of papers aside to make room for yourself.
“Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” he asked, greeting you with a warm smile. “I’ll probably take a break in an hour or so. I think I’m onto something.”
“That’s great, Sammy,” you told him, trying to return his smile. He noticed your nerves, and reached out a hand, placing it on your knee to stop it from bouncing up and down.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he questioned, rubbing his thumb in circles against your leg to calm you. You looked into his concerned eyes. Instead of answering, you held your hand out, palm up, revealing what you held. A pregnancy text.
And it was positive.
He frowned at it for a moment, trying to place the item he was looking at. But you could tell the moment he realised what it was, because his head shot up to look at you, his eyes widening. “Are-are you…” He trailed off, surprise seemingly getting the better of him. You nodded, watching his face closely for a reaction.
Suddenly, he grabbed you in his arms, pulling you off the desk and swinging you around. “We’re going to have a baby!” he exclaimed, his face breaking into the biggest grin you’d ever seen on him.
“Hey!” you laughed. “Put me down! I’m getting dizzy!” Sam put you down immediately, reaching out to steady you.
“Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” he asked, starting to freak out.
“I’m fine, Sam!” You laughed again, amused by his reaction. For a man who gave monsters nightmares, he seemed to be unnecessarily scared about the whole baby situation. “You don’t have to worry about me. Sam?” He had turned away from you, and you doubted that he had even heard the last part of what you’d said. “What are you doing?” you demanded, watching as he slammed the leather bound book shut and starting packing papers away.
“I’m putting all this stuff away,” he answered, as if it should have been obvious.
“Why?” Sam pushed his hair out of his face, glancing back at you.
“Why else? I’m giving this up.”
“But Sam…this is your life.”
“No,” he stated firmly, “you’re my life. You, Dean and Cas. And now this baby. And I’m not going to risk anything happening to any of you.”
“But what about the other two? Won’t they want to keep hunting?” you asked, feeling stupid for asking so many questions. But at the same time, a part of you felt overjoyed. Sam was giving up his whole life just to be with you to start your family.
“They’ve always wanted a way out,” he explained. “Maybe this will be it. We can all get jobs. Hell, maybe I can even go back go law school,” he continued. “I just want this baby to live a normal life, one without rock salt and EMF and holy water. I want our baby to be safe.”
You pressed your hand against your mouth, a rush of gratitude and love welling up inside you, threatening to spill over. You flung your arms around him, pulling him tightly against you. “Thank you,” you whispered into his shirt. It wasn’t much, but there was no other way for you to explain just how much you loved him in that moment. His grip tightened around you, telling you he understood, and his breath tickled your ear as he whispered back, “You’re welcome.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I’ll probably get a lot more done now that my school stuff is out of the way. And thanks for sticking with me!
Please don’t repost without giving credit.
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!
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