I love your one shots. Could you possibly do a one shot where Sam meets the readers parents and Sam is really nervous. And the readers dad is very hard on Sam?
Anonymous
Hi. I’m glad to hear that you like my writing! I’m sorry for the wait, but here’s your request.
~~~~~
Sam parked the Impala in front of your parents’ house, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. “Hey,” you murmured, reaching over to take one of his hands in your own. “It’s alright, Sam. It’s just my parents. It’s no big deal.”
Sam laughed shakily. “For you it’s no big deal. They like you. But me? I’m the guy taking away their daughter’s innocence! Your father’s probably out back loading up the shotgun!” You bit your lip, trying to hide a smile at his choice of words.
“Maybe we just won’t discuss things like that,” you told him. “And besides, my parents have no reason not to like you. You’re very sweet and smart and you take good care of me.”
Sam looked at you pointedly. “What happens when they ask what I do for a living?”
“Well…we can just tell them you’re a search and rescue volunteer!” you answered, pleased with the answer you had come up with.
“A search and rescue volunteer?” Sam asked doubtfully.
“It’s kind of true!” you insisted. “I mean, you search for hunts and then you rescue the victims. We just won’t tell them the details.”
Sam smirked. “I love the way your brain works. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
The two of you got out of the Impala, which Dean had reluctantly agreed to let you borrow for the occasion. You opened up the rusty front gate and you and Sam strode up the white path, you keeping a hand on Sam’s arm to keep him moving. When you got up to the front porch, Sam rang the doorbell, wiping his other hand across his forehead. A few moments later, the sound of footsteps came from inside and your father opened the door, your mother by his side.
“Y/N!” your mother exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug. She pulled back, allowing your father to pull you into an embrace of his own.
“I’ve missed you guys so much!”
“I know,” your mother answered. “It’s been much too long.” She noticed Sam standing beside you. “You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she added politely.
“Sam Winchester,” he introduced himself, offering his hand to them. Your mother shook it but your father simply eyed it disapprovingly, leaving Sam to awkwardly pull it back down by his side.
“Why don’t you both come inside?” your mother suggested, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You lead Sam inside, taking a seat beside him on one of the small couches in the sitting room. “Lunch should be ready in about ten minutes,” your mother announced. “Just make yourself at home.” Next to you, Sam jiggled his leg up and down with nerves.
“Hey,” you whispered, putting a hand on his knee to still it. “Just relax, alright? It’s gonna be fine.” Soon enough, your mother called everyone into the dining room and you all sat down before a table full of food.
“This looks delicious, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Sam told your mother. She smiled at him.
“Well, it’s a special occasion. I wanted to go all out.” The next few minutes passed in silence, the clattering of cutlery against plates and chewing being the only sounds that filled the air.
“Sam,” your father finally said, “what do you do for a living?” Sam exchanged a glance with you, thinking back to your earlier conversation in the car when he had predicted this exact question.
“Uh, I’m a search and rescue volunteer,” he answered.
“That’s lovely!” your mother replied.
“It doesn’t exactly pay the bills though, does it?” your father added. Sam looked down uncomfortably, clearly unsure about how to answer.
“No, not really,” he responded. “But I do odd jobs here and there when I can. I just feel that it’s more important to help others.” Your father made a small noise in the back of his throat, trying to hide his approval at Sam’s reply.
The rest of lunch passed rather slowly, small talk making up the main part of the discussion. It felt good to be able to tell your parents about what you’d been doing lately, even if you had to leave out large bits of information. When lunch was over, you and Sam volunteered to clean the dishes.
Eventually, after everything had been packed away and numerous photo albums had been passed around, it was time for you and Sam to leave. You hugged each of your parents tightly, not sure when you’d next have the chance to see them.
“Take care,” your mother whispered in your ear.
“And make time for a phone call every so often,” your father told you. “Your mother and I raised you. It’s the least you can do in return.” You grinned at him.
“I will, Dad. I love you both.”
“It was nice to meet you both,” Sam said, smiling at each of your parents in turn.
“It was,” your mother smiled. “You should come by more often.”
Your father stuck out his hand, giving you and Sam cause to exchange a look of surprise. “Take good care of her.”
“I will, sir,” Sam promised, shaking his hand. You exchanged your final goodbyes, and you and Sam headed out to the car.
“I thought that went well,” you announced once you were back in the passenger seat. “They really seemed to like you.”
“You really think so?” Sam asked nervously.
You smirked. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I wasn’t entirely happy with the ending, but I thought it was alright aside from that.
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hey could u please do an imagine when the reader (she dont know sam&dean) is hunting 5 demons by herself and she's a true badass (like really sassy and all those stuffs) and sam and dean find the demons but when they come in, she kills all the demons on her own? and then they go to the bar with them and she's sassy with them and dean kinda fall for her ? i think it would be funny to see a girl being sassy against dean haha, thank you!!!
Hey. Sorry for the wait! But here it is.
~~~~~
You pulled up in front of an abandoned warehouse, the tires of your car crunching over gravel. Opening up the door, you stepped out, slipping a knife down the side of your combat boot as you did. You gently closed the door behind you, careful to keep the noise to a minimum. It was just you against five demons, and you knew that the element of surprise could tip the scales in your favour a great deal.
Twirling your angel blade around your fingers, you let it settle against the palm of your hand. You gripped it tightly, creeping up to the side of the building. At one of the boarded up windows you paused, leaning against the rough wooden planks that had been nailed across it. You peeked in one of the cracks and saw the demons standing in various positions around the warehouse, seemingly relaxed. There were five of them, just as you had predicted.
You took a deep breath and set off towards the entrance, making sure to keep close enough to the building that you could feel the cool concrete against your back at all times. Just before you got to the entrance, you stopped and counted to ten before rushing inside.
The first two demons were positioned close to the entrance, and you took them both down before they even knew what was happening. But by the time the second one dropped, the other three charged over you, the closest one grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back. You slammed down on her toes with the heel of your boot, causing it’s grip on your left arm to loosen ever so slightly. You freed your arm and slammed it into the demon’s jaw.
Vaguely, you could make out the sounds of an engine roaring to a halt outside, followed by the sounds of two males shouting. However, it didn’t directly affect you, so you ignored it, instead focussing your attention on the more immediate problem at hand - taking down the remaining demons.
You spun around, sweeping the demon’s legs out from under her before driving your knife into its heart. Turning around, you saw the other two gaining ground. You dropped down, plucking the knife from your boot and hurling it in the direction of one of the demons. It reared back, letting out a growl of pain as it stopped to remove the knife. Whilst it was distracted, you turned back to the other demon, allowing it to run straight into the tip of your blade.
Finally, you were down to one last demon. You tackled it to the ground, pinning it down with your weight. Smirking at it, you gripped the blade, burying it in the demon’s chest.
You stood up, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “What the hell?” a voice exclaimed from behind you.
“That’s exactly where they came from.” You smirked, spinning around and striding over to the two men who were gaping at you from the entrance. “And who might you two be?”
The taller man was the first to recover from his shock. “I’m Sam Winchester. This is my brother, Dean,” he introduced, gesturing towards the other man.
“Winchester. Interesting,” you replied, your tone giving nothing away.
“Interesting good or interesting bad?” Dean asked.
You gave him a knowing smirk. “That remains to be seen. Now what were you two doing on my case? I had it covered.”
“We can see that,” Dean said, staring at you in amazement. “You were badass.”
“Which is lucky, because neither of you did anything to contribute,” you pointed out.
“That’s only because you had practically taken them all down before we could do anything,” Sam defended.
“I know,” you grinned. “It was pretty awesome, huh?”
“Definitely,” Dean answered. “Maybe the three of us should head out to a bar and discuss some hunting techniques. You look like you have a lot of wisdom to impart.”
You eyed him carefully, sizing him up. “Alright,” you finally agreed. “You guys head out and I’ll follow you.” The two of them got back into their car, heading in the direction of the town. You followed them in your own car, feeling just the slightest bit excited at the chance to get to know them a little better.
—-
Twenty minutes later saw you sitting at the bar alongside Sam and Dean, the haze of cigarette smoke washing over you. When Sam got up to make a call, Dean turned his attention to you. “So,” he began. “How long have you been hunting?”
“A while,” you answered coyly.
“You don’t give much away, do you?” Dean observed.
“If I told you all my secrets, I’d have to kill you,” you told him with an air of mock seriousness. Dean grinned at you.
“I don’t doubt that you could.”
“Good. Underestimating me would be the last thing you would ever do,” you told him. “Just a word of warning.”
He looked down for a moment, considering something. After a moment, he glanced back up at you. “Will I have many more chances to underestimate you?” he asked hopefully. You bit the inside of your cheek, gazing at him thoughtfully.
“Do you want many more chances?”
“Definitely,” he answered.
“Well then. I guess you’re going to have to be on your guard,” you grinned.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
OMG! I love your blog soo much! ik this is kinda depressing but could you do one where your pregnant with your bf baby but when you tell him he leaves you so you go to with Sam and Dean but you end up having a miscarriage and dean helps you through it and admits he loves you?
Anonymous
Hi! Im glad you like my blog! I’m sorry for the long wait, but I hope it was worth it.
TRIGGER WARNING: miscarriage.
~~~~~
You slumped against the door of the bunker, bringing your arm up to knock against it. It was autumn, and the wind had a chilly bite to it. You shivered, pulling your jacket tighter against you. Your hand came to rest on your stomach and you felt the small bump that lay there. The feel of it brought on memories of earlier that morning, triggering more tears to fall from your eyes.
A small click caught your attention, and Sam jerked the door open, automatically dumping holy water on you. You flinched at its coldness, trying and failing to suppress another sob. “Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?” Sam queried. He noticed the bags you had dumped unceremoniously at your feet and he picked them up, hauling them inside the bunker. “Come inside,” he coaxed gently. You stepped inside the door and he helped you out of your wet jacket. When you started making your way down the steps, Sam wrapped his arm around you, helping you down.
“What’s going on?” Dean asked, walking into the room. He noticed the tear stains running down your cheeks and rushed over to you. “Y/N, what happened? Is everything alright with Jake?” The sound of his name brought on a fresh round of sobbing. “Okay, not the best thing to mention,” Dean said, leading you over to a couch.
“Y/N, please tell us what happened. We can help you,” Sam told you earnestly, sitting down beside you as Dean crouched in front of you.
“H-he br-broke up with me!” you sobbed.
“Uh, I think we have some ice cream in the freezer,” Sam told you. “That helps girls through break ups, right?” You shook your head at him.
“You don’t understand.” You glanced up at the two of them. “I’m pregnant,” you whispered.
“That son of a bitch!” Dean shouted, shooting up from the ground. “So he broke up with you because you told him you were pregnant?” You nodded in confirmation, causing Dean to start pacing the floor. “When I get my hands on him, I swear to God…” he muttered under his breath.
“Dean!” you gasped. “You can’t threaten him!”
“Damn right, I can! That jerk left you when you needed him most!”
“But this isn’t going to help at all!” you insisted.
“Then what will?” Sam asked.
You looked down shyly. “Well I was wondering…do you think that maybe I could stay here for a little bit?” You peeked up at the boys from under your eyelashes, gauging their reactions.
“Of course you can,” Sam assured you, acting as though the answer should’ve been obvious. “The bunker is your home too, for as long as you need it.”
“Thank you,” you smiled.
—-
A few weeks later, you woke up in the middle of the night, your stomach aching with the fiercest cramps you had ever experienced. You sat up slowly, the sheets feeling slick beneath you. Ever so carefully, you pulled back the covers, exposing the blood stain covering the bedding. You screamed, not caring that it was the middle of the night and that the others would be asleep. “SAM! DEAN!” you shrieked, your voice taken over by panic.
The boys burst into your room, waving around guns as though expecting there to be some sort of monster to deal with. When their search turned up empty, they looked down at your bed, their eyes going wide when they saw the blood around you.
“Oh God,” Dean murmured, the two of them rushing over to you as you blacked out from the pain.
—-
A steady beeping woke you up, accompanied by total whiteness. At first you thought something had gone wrong with your vision, but then you realised that you were in a hospital. Blinking, you noticed Dean sitting in a chair at your side, with a doctor standing at the end of your bed.
“Good. You’re awake,” he said.
“What happened?” you asked groggily. The doctor’s smile dropped, turning into an expression of sympathy. “My baby. Is it alright?” The doctor just stared back at you for a moment, and your heart dropped into the depths of your stomach.
“I’m very sorry to say this, but you have had a miscarriage,” he informed you. A buzzing sound filled your ears and you had to blink a few times to make sure you didn’t pass out again. You barely heard the doctor as he said, “I’ll just let you have a few minutes alone with your partner.” As he walked out, you didn’t even bother to correct him. It didn’t matter. Nothing did. Your baby was gone.
“Y/N? Y/N!” Dean called. Slowly, you turned your head to look at him. Seeing his look of sorrow, you gave into the waves of tears that had threatened to overcome you ever since the doctor had started to speak.
“My baby, my baby,” you repeated over and over, as if the words alone could be enough to bring it back.
“I know,” Dean whispered, pulling you firmly into his arms. “But we’re going to get through this, alright? Sammy and I are going to be here for you every step of the way. It’ll get better.”
“How?” you wailed, grabbing onto his shirt as though it was a lifeline. “How can it ever get better after this?”
“Because I’m going to make it get better,” Dean murmured, pulling back to look you dead in the eye. “I’m going to help you out as much as it’s physically possible.”
You gazed back at him, trying to clamp down on the sobs that were wracking your body. “Why?” you asked timidly, your voice sounding like that of a little girl. “Why are you so nice to me? Why have you helped me so much over these past few weeks?”
Dean took a deep breath. “Because I love you.” Your breath caught in your throat, and you sat in stunned silence for a moment. But finally, you came to your senses again and wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into his embrace.
“Dean…I think I’m falling in love with you, too,” you admitted, your voice muffled against his body. You felt that maybe, just maybe, things could get better again with Dean by your side.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.
Can I have a Dean imagine!! We’re he is always mean to the reader and she gets mad and they start fighting Like really fighting hunter style but he hurts her and makes her cry and it's the first time He's seen her cry since the were small. An the reader should be a strong female tomboy who really loves Dean !!
Hi. I’m sorry about the wait. I hope this is what you were after!
~~~~~
Ever since you were a kid, you had been with the Winchester boys. You remember being barely walking when your dad first dropped you off at Bobby’s house with Sam and Dean while he went off to hunt monsters with John Winchester. You would play soccer with them, and learn to shoot with them. You went to school with them and picked fights with them. You shared so many things with them, and as time went on, the loss of both your families was another thing added to the list of things you shared.
Sam and Dean had always taken care of you, standing up against bullies and kicking the butts of any guys who dared to break your heart. You were so close to the both of them, even if you and Dean spent half your time fighting. And although you’d never admit it, fighting with Dean was something you couldn’t live without. You loved him.
You strode out of your bedroom in the bunker, tying your hair back in a ponytail. This was one of the rare times when the three of you weren’t on a case, so you were able to relax in an old pair of track pants and a tank top. You couldn’t be happier that you didn’t have to wear any fake FBI outfits for a while. You despised getting all dressed up like that. You would much rather lounge about in oversized T-shirts and baggy pants.
“What’s up, Y/N,” Dean asked, sending a smirk in your direction as you walked into the library.
“Bite me, Winchester,” you replied.
“Ooh, someone’s grumpy!” he teased. He walked over to where you had sat down and tugged on your hair.
“Are you five or something?” you exclaimed, swatting his hands away. “Leave me alone!”
“Make me.” He grabbed hold of your hands, twisting them around. You stumbled out of your chair, trying to free yourself from his grasp. But his hands were clenched tightly around your wrists and you couldn’t get away.
“Get off me!” you demanded.
“You’re a hunter,” he responded. “Do it yourself.” You twisted your body around sharply, causing him to loosen his grip on you. You tackled him to the ground, pinning his arms with your knees and using your weight to hold him down.
“Gotcha,” you smirked.
“I don’t think so,” he answered back, flipping around so that he was the one holding you down. But as he pushed you down onto the floor, he shoved too hard, slamming your head against the floor. You cried out in pain, and Dean’s triumphant expression immediately changed to one of concern. “Shit! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” You shook you head at him, tears springing to your eyes and leaking out of the corners.
“It really hurts,” you whimpered.
“I can tell,” he murmured. “I haven’t seen you cry since…God, it must’ve been when we were seven and you scraped your knee when you tried climbing that tree in the park.”
“It’s not like I make a habit of it,” you sniffled.
“I know. Come on,” Dean said, slowly pulling you up into a sitting position. “Let’s check out that head of yours.” He walked you over to a chair, gently setting you down and moving behind you to check the back of your head. “There’s a small bump there,” he told you. He pressed against it lightly. “Does this hurt?”
“Yes!” you exclaimed. Dean came around to crouch down in front of you.
“Is your vision blurry?” he asked seriously.
“No, Dean. It’s fine. I’m pretty sure I don’t have a concussion,” you stated. Dean didn’t move, remaining where he was and eyeing you carefully. “What?”
“Nothing,” he answered. “We’re just going to have to keep an eye on you. Make sure things don’t get worse.” He stayed crouched in front of you, reaching out to grab hold of your hands. He held onto them tightly, squeezing them comfortingly.
You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Dean.”
“Anything for you.”
~~~~~
Thanks for reading. And Happy Easter to everyone who celebrates it!
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Hi! Can you pretty please make a part two to the imagine where Sam hates you but you're in love with him?
Hi! I’ve never written a Part Two to an imagine before so I hope I did an okay job.
Link to Part One:
http://imagines-supernatural.tumblr.com/post/83163112089/i-really-loved-the-imagine-you-made-and-here-i-am
~~~~~
You and Cas had been sitting side by side on your bed in silence for about twenty minutes when you heard Sam and Dean’s voices coming from outside the motel room. Your fingers tightened around Castiel’s trenchcoat and you shrank further into him.
“Y/N, I think that perhaps you should just talk to Sam,” Cas murmured. “Perhaps there is an explanation for all this.” You sat bolt upright, staring at him in disbelief.
“An explanation? What is there to explain? I’ve never done anything to him!” you exclaimed.
“I know,” he agreed with you. “But I still feel that you and Sam should talk. You can’t keep putting yourself through this.” You bit your lip, frowning up at him.
“I don’t like this one bit,” you told him. “But…maybe you’re right. I feel bad that you and Dean always have to be around to fix me up.”
Cas was about to reply when Sam and Dean entered the room. Sam’s laughter cut off abruptly when he saw you sitting on the bed. You looked down at your hands, suddenly losing the confidence to speak with him. However, before you had a chance to inform Cas of your change of heart, he spoke up. “Dean, would you mind accompanying me for a moment?”
Dean frowned, glancing between you and Sam. “Cas, are you sure that’s the best idea?”
“Trust me,” Cas said, grabbing Dean by the arm. The sound of beating wings filled the room and they were gone, off to who knew where.
“Well this is just great,” Sam muttered under his breath, dumping the cartons of take out on the table. Every muscle in his body seemed to be stiff with tension, and you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was seriously pissed off to be alone with you.
You glanced around at the peeling wallpaper of the motel room, hoping desperately for some kind of distraction to come along to prevent you from having this conversation with Sam. Unfortunately, none were forthcoming, so you took a deep breath and stood up. “Sam?” you asked timidly, moving towards where he had seated himself at the table.
“What do you want?” he answered harshly. It was obvious in his voice that talking to you was the last thing on his agenda.
Suddenly, you felt angry. And not the kind of angry that made teens lock themselves up in their bedrooms with rock music blasting, but the kind of angry that made you want to grab Sam by the shirt and pin him against the wall, demanding that he listen to you. “I want to talk to you,” you stated firmly, this anger of yours manifesting itself in confidence.
Slowly, Sam swivelled around to face you. “What about?” he questioned in an annoyed tone.
You swallowed, taking another step towards him. Folding your arms across your body, you began to rant. “Why do you hate me, Sam? I’ve only ever been kind to you. I’m a pretty damn good hunter, even if I say so myself, so you can’t say I hold you back. And Dean and Cas like and respect me, so why can’t you? I understand that a lot of hunters don’t like working with others, but you’ve done so in the past, so you can’t use that as an excuse.” You stopped, staring at him expectantly. “Well? What have you got to say for yourself?”
“I don’t hate you,” he responded simply. He didn’t address any of the other things you had said, which infuriated you.
You let out a humourless laugh. “Wow, Sam. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. Maybe I should get you a dictionary for your next birthday. That way you can look up the definition of hate.” Sam stood up to face you.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “I honestly don’t hate you.”
“Then why are you always such a dick to me?” you whispered, on the brink of tears.
Sam blew out a long breath. “It’s just…we’ve had practically all of our friends die, Y/N. Simply because they were our friends. And I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. And if it doesn’t happen to you, then what does that mean about the others? Does it mean that they were somehow supposed to die?” he questioned rhetorically. “You hunting with us…I don’t know. It just somehow feels like a punch to the gut, reminding me of everyone else.”
You let your arms drop to your sides, unsure how to handle this revelation. “Sam,” you began slowly. “I’m not any of those people. I haven’t even really met any of them. And I know things have been really tough for you in the past, but you can’t hold that against me. I’m my own person and I have feelings. And quite frankly, I really don’t deserve to be treated like this.” You gazed up at him, waiting for a response. After a minute, it came. But not in the form of words - he instead offered his hand. “Sam?” you questioned.
“It’s a truce,” he explained. “A peace offering, whatever you want to call it. I’ve been a dick, and I’m sorry. So do you think we could start over? Try to be friends?”
You looked into his eyes, at the genuine regret and hopefulness you found there. Although being friends wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to be on good terms with Sam.
You reached out and shook his hand. “Friends,” you agreed.
~~~~~
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Well hi there. I hope I'm not a bother for asking, but I'm in a kinda awful spot, like deep deep deep drowning. I was wondering if you could write a Dean imagine based off of the song "can't help falling in love with you" by Elvis? And just really really really fluffy. Thank you... If you don't write it, it's totally okay, but I suggest you listen to the cover by Ingrid Michaelson. It's beautiful.
Anonymous
Hi. I listened to both versions of the song that you mentioned, and I agree with you - the Ingrid Michaelson version is so beautiful! And if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you. I hope this imagine helps a bit.
~~~~~
The Impala growled to a halt at the bunker, the last bars of a Led Zeppelin song fading out as Dean put Baby into park. Sam swung open his door, stepping out of the car. He grabbed his bag from the trunk and headed inside. You got out with the intention of following him but found your way blocked by Dean.
“Could I talk to you for a minute?” he asked nervously.
“Sure,” you answered, settling yourself against the side of the Impala. “What’s up?”
Dean cupped the back of his neck with his hand. “I’m not really sure how to say this,” he admitted. You gave him a teasing smile.
“In English would be preferable.” Dean grinned back at you, but his smile soon dropped as he remembered what he had to tell you. You reached out to grab his hand, intertwining his fingers with your own. “Dean, whatever it is that you have to say, you can. This is a circle of trust,” you teased, trying to put him at ease. When he didn’t seem to relax any further, you added, “Dean, I’m serious. I won’t have a go at you for whatever you say. You can trust me.”
Dean took a deep breath, gathering his courage. He opened his mouth and said, “Alright. I’m just gonna say this now before I lose my nerve. I love you Y/N.” You stood there in shock, gaping up at him and hanging on to his every word as he continued. “I know that some people would say I’m in idiot for telling you this so soon, but I just can’t help it. I can’t help falling in love with you. Rivers flow out to sea, trees grow towards the sky, and I am in love with you. It was just meant to be.”
At the end of Dean’s speech, tears were running down your face. You reached up, wiping them off on the end of your sleeve. “No one’s ever said anything that beautiful to me before,” you whispered.
“Well, they should’ve,” Dean replied. “Because you’re beautiful.”
You smiled up at him softly. “I think that maybe it’s a good thing no one has ever said anything like that to me before. I’m glad it was you who said it.”
“Why?” Dean murmured, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly.
“Because maybe you’re not the only one who can’t help themselves.”
~~~~~
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I have been feeling really sad lately because my mother is diagnosed with cancer and it's really hard so I was wondering if you can do an imagine for me when Sam is really mean to you because he thinks you like dean? Please I read your imagines in the hospital and I have to take counseling.
Anonymous
Hi. I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever want to talk, my ask box is open. And I really hope this imagine helps, even if only a tiny bit.
~~~~~
You walked into the bunker, your arms loaded with shopping bags. “Hey, Sam?” you called out, peering over the top of the bags to where Sam was sitting on the couch. “Do you reckon you could help me carry some of these bags in?”
“Why don’t you just ask Dean?” he asked harshly, standing up and turning to head out of the room. His mouth was set in a hard line and his shoulders were stiff with tension.
“Why would I ask Dean?” you questioned, dropping the bags down on the kitchen counter. “He’s all the way on the other side of the bunker.” Sam whipped around, turning to face you with a furious expression.
“Oh, I don’t know. You just seem to be doing everything with him these days. Why not add packing away the groceries to the list?”
“What the hell, Sam?” You strode over to him, your hands planted on your hips. “Dean’s my friend. I hang out with him sometimes. I don’t see why it’s any of your business,” you added, jabbing your finger at him on the word ‘your’.
“I just think that if you want to get in his pants, you could be a little more subtle about it,” he spat. You staggered back, his words a slap in the face. You gaped at him. Where was the Sam you knew, the one who was always so sweet?
“Sam!” you exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with you? How could you say something like that?” Your heart ached, and you knew that your face must’ve mapped out an expression of hurt. Sam noticed this and his own expression softened slightly, his hand reaching out to brush against your arm.
“Y/N -”
“No!” You slapped his arm away. “You can’t just be horrible to me and then expect to make it all go away by touching my arm as some kind of peace offering!”
“I know, Y/N. And I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry,” he apologised, his eyes gazing at you sorrowfully.
You folded your arms across your chest. “Then why did you?” He didn’t answer and you cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting impatiently for an explanation. “Any time now, Sam.”
Sam glanced away, biting his lip in frustration. He turned back to you, evidently uncomfortable at having to provide an explanation. “I was jealous,” he burst out. “Happy?”
You dropped your arms, staring at him in surprise. Of all the responses you had predicted would come from him, this was one that had never been on the list. “You were what?”
“I was jealous, alright?” Sam repeated, clearly wishing for a change in subject. You straightened up, a slight grin curling the edges of your mouth.
“And why would you be jealous?” you asked in mock innocence, secretly pleased at Sam’s discomfort.
“Because I like you!” he exclaimed. “There. I said it. Is that good enough for you? I thought that the reason you and Dean have been hanging out so much was because you liked him. And I got angry because I like you, and it would kill me to see you start dating my brother!” He stopped, his chest heaving from his outburst. You stepped up to him, a full-blown grin now spread across your face.
“Do you want to know the real reason I’ve been spending so much time with Dean lately?” Sam nodded almost imperceptibly, seeming to dread what was going to come next. You stood up on your tiptoes, stretching up so that your mouth was in line with his ear. “I was getting his advice on how to ask you out,” you whispered.
“You - what?” Sam asked, staring at you in disbelief. “So this whole time I’ve been jealous of the two of you, I should’ve just come straight out and told you how I feel?”
You paused for a moment with your finger against your lips, pretending to contemplate his words. “Pretty much, yeah,” you told him.
“God, I’m such an idiot,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands. You grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away so that you could see him properly.
“I know,” you agreed, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Now help me with the rest of the groceries.”
~~~~~
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Hey, how are you? Good. Can I please have an imagine where Sam finds the reader, his girlfriend, being insecure in the bathroom and tries to comfort her?
Hi. I’m good. How are you? I’m sorry for the wait, but it hope you like it.
Warnings; Reader is feeling very insecure.
~~~~~
You sat down on the lid of the toilet, your head cradled by the palms of your hands. Tears slipped down your cheeks and dripped onto your shoes, and your shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.
“Y/N?” Sam knocked on the door. “Are you alright? You’ve been in there a while.”
“N-no, I’m f-fine,” you answered weakly, running a shaky hand through your hair.
“You don’t sound fine,” Sam observed. “Can I come in?” You reached out, fingers fumbling against the lock. It clicked, and Sam swung the door open, stepping in and looking to where you sat.
“Hey, what’s wrong, beautiful?” he asked, crouching down on the ground in front of you. You shook your head at him, unable to respond. “Come on, you can tell me.” He brought his hands up to rest on either side of your face, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb.
“I suck,” you told him miserably, stray strands of hair hanging down around your face. He frowned at you in confusion, tucking the wisps of hair back behind your ears.
“What are you talking about?”
You took a deep breath, readying yourself to tell him everything. All the negative thoughts, all your fears, all your insecurities. They had been building up over the past few months and were finally boiling over. “I suck at hunting,” you explained. “I always stuff up and people get hurt. I’m never going to be like you and Dean. And then whenever we go out somewhere, there are all these pretty girls eyeing you off and I just know that I can’t compare to them. One day you’re going to look at me and think, ‘why is she even my girlfriend?’” You stopped abruptly, scared that you had overloaded Sam with information and scared him off.
“Y/N, I want you to listen to me,” he told you, gazing directly into your eyes. “You are one of the best hunters I’ve ever met. And I have come across a lot in my time. And for the record, you don’t want to be like Dean and I. Just remember that we’re the guys who opened the Gates of Hell and started the Apocalypse, just to name a couple of our greatest mistakes.”
“But you’re also the guys who fixed both those things,” you pointed out.
“True,” Sam agreed, smiling ruefully. “But we wouldn’t have had to if we didn’t stuff up in the first place. And about what you said after that? I look at you everyday and wonder why I love you.” You looked down, your vision blurring, the colours running together. Your worst fear had just come true. “Hey, look at me.” Sam titled your head back up to look at him. “Every time I ask myself that, I come up with a whole list of reasons why I love you. You’re smart, funny, sweet, badass, beautiful and about a million other things. And yes, you never could compare to those other girls. Because you’re a thousand times more perfect for me then any of them could ever be.”
Your eyes swam with tears again, but this time of the happy variety. “Really?” you asked softly.
Sam smiled. “Really.”
~~~~~
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Could you do one where dean asks the reader to be his girlfriend and she hesitates to say yes and she explains that its not a good idea because she's insecure and anorexic and he cheers her up and promises itll get better? I love your writing and I could use some cheering up. Super fluffly please?(:
Anonymous
Hi. I’m so, so sorry this wasn’t done sooner. I really hope it cheers you up. And if you need anything, message me.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: hints at anorexia, reader talks about their insecurities.
~~~~~
You were curled up on your bed in the bunker, watching reruns of your favourite TV show. You had the blankets tucked up around you and the remote clutched in your hand. Someone knocked on the door and you pressed the mute button. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Dean’s voice answered. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” you replied. He opened the door and stepped into your room, pulling the door closed behind him.
“Nice,” he said, nodding in approval at the band posters you had pinned up on the walls.
“Thanks. What’s up?”
Dean coughed nervously, coming over to sit at the end of your bed, being careful to avoid your feet. “I don’t really know how to say this,” he told you, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. His eyes darted around the room and you smiled up at him encouragingly, patiently waiting for him to say what was on his mind. “Y/N, we’ve known each other for a while now. And…I really like you. And I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me?” he asked carefully, each word coming out slowly.
You froze, staring at Dean like a deer in the headlights. “Oh, um, Dean…I’m flattered. Really, I am. It’s just…”
“Oh,” he said in disappointment, looking down and swallowing. “It’s okay, I understand. I just…never mind.” He started to get up, but you reached out to grab his arm.
“I don’t think you do understand,” you told him. “Dean, I really like you. I’d love to go out with you. But…”
“What is it?” he asked, concern spreading across his features. He say back down on the bed, his eyes focused intently upon you.
“Dean, I have a lot of insecurities. I mean,” you lowered your voice, “I can barely eat without hating myself. How am I supposed to be in a serious relationship with all those problems in my life? So many girls come up to you in bars and pretty much everywhere else, all looking to get your number. How am I supposed to compete with that?” You looked down, trying to hide the tears that had sprung to your eyes. “How am I supposed to handle that kind of pressure?”
“Y/N, look at me.” Dean’s hand reached out, gently cupping your chin and turning your face towards him. “None of those girls is any match for you. Trust me. You blow them all out of the water with your awesomeness.” You smiled at him weakly, sniffing back the tears. “And the other stuff you mentioned? We can get through that. Together. I promise I will never leave you on your own in this. Things are gonna get better.”
“Do you really think so?” you whispered, your voice cracking. Dean’s hands came to rest on your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears that had leaked from your eyes.
“I know so,” he confirmed. You wiped your sleeve across your nose, glancing him at him, at the determined look in his eyes.
“Then…maybe I’ll take you up on that date,” you told him, a soft smile spreading across your face. Dean grinned back at you, his eyes lighting up in joy.
“Awesome.”
~~~~~
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Can you please do an imagine where the reader is currently in a relationship with Sam and she's alone in a motel doing research while the boys are out and she sees Jessica , Sam's ex girlfriend and tells her that she is watching out for Sam and her.x
Anonymous
Hi. Sorry for the wait! I hope this is what you were after.
~~~~~
“Y/N, we’re going out to pick up some dinner,” Sam told you. “Will you be alright?”
“Sam,” you answered, getting up off your bed, “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” You walked over to him, draping your arms around his neck. You pulled him towards you and planted your lips on his in a slow, passionate kiss.
“I should go. Dean’s waiting in the car,” Sam mumbled against your lips. As if having heard Sam, Dean blared the Impala’s horn from outside, causing you to giggle and pull away from Sam.
“Alright. Bye.” You watched him as he headed out the door, locking it behind him. When the sound of the Impala’s engine had finally faded, you turned towards the table where Sam’s laptop rested, ready for you to do some research.
You sat down in the chair, opening up the laptop and logging in. You read over pages of information, the text swimming together and blurring before your eyes. For twenty minutes you carried on like this, the sound of your fingers hitting the keys being the only noise in the room. It was then that you noticed the room had become cold, so much so that your breath came out in a white cloud. The lights in the room flickered and you whipped your head around, looking for anything out of place.
Across the room, a silhouette seemed to be emerging, the image gradually strengthening. Before you stood a beautiful girl in her early twenties, with long, wavy blonde hair and a white nightgown. She could’ve been some sort of model. If it wasn’t for the dark, red stain spreading across her midsection.
You jumped up, fumbling around for the gun you had loaded with rock salt earlier in the evening. “Wait,” she girl said in a soft voice. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk to you.”
You laughed harshly. “Right. Well, I can’t afford to take that chance.” You picked up the gun, holding it up at her.
“Please!” she cried. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ve been watching over you and Sam.” You lowered your gun slightly, staring at the ghost in confusion. She smiled gently before continuing on. “You make him very happy. Thank you for that. Please just take care of him for me.” Those were the last words she uttered before vanishing, leaving you to scan the room, searching for any signs that the ghost was still around.
Eventually, you put the gun back down, returning to your place in front of the laptop. “That was weird,” you muttered, the sound of the Impala’s engine filling the parking lot again.
“Hey, Y/N,” Dean called, stepping into the motel room.
“Hey, guys,” you replied, standing up as Sam came into the room and walked over to give you a kiss.
“Anything happen while we were gone?” he asked.
“Uh, no,” you told him, deciding not to reveal the strange encounter which had just taken place. As Sam went to go sit down on your bed, he dropped his wallet, causing it to open as it hit the ground. You reached down to pick it up and saw a picture of you stuck into one of the slots. But right behind it, the corner of another photo stuck out. You reached into the pouch, pulling the hidden photo free. When you could see it properly, your breath in your throat. The picture was of a blonde girl on a beach, the very same blonde girl you had seen just minutes before. “Who’s this?” you asked shakily, holding the picture up for Sam to see.
He glanced up from the TV, his eyes filling with sadness as they fell upon the picture. “That was my girlfriend from college,” he told you. “She was…she was killed by a demon. Her name was Jess.”
~~~~~
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