Supernatural Imagines

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Posts tagged with "spn fanfiction"

Nov 7
This is a repost of my earlier post (if anyone’s confused).
~~~~
You dropped your spoon back into your empty bowl of ice cream, suddenly hating yourself for devouring it as quickly as you had. As you sat there alone, in the dimly lit kitchen of the...

This is a repost of my earlier post (if anyone’s confused).

~~~~

You dropped your spoon back into your empty bowl of ice cream, suddenly hating yourself for devouring it as quickly as you had. As you sat there alone, in the dimly lit kitchen of the bunker in the middle of the night, all you could think about was the scales ticking over, adding yet another kilo to what was already considered more weight than acceptable.

“Y/N? What are you doing up?” You jumped at the sound of Dean’s voice, turning to see him entering the room in his grey robe, his hair tousled and his eyes drooping with exhaustion.

“I, uh, couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled, looking down and hoping he wouldn’t notice the bowl in front of you, empty save for a few melted dregs of ice cream.

“Me neither,” he answered, treading towards the freezer. As he opened the door and looked in the top drawer, you saw a frown cross his features. “Huh,” he said. “I thought we still had a tub of ice cream left in here. Guess Sammy will have to pick some up when he’s in town tomorrow.” Immediately, a sense of guilt washed over you, filling you right to the pit of your stomach. Hastily, you got up from the table, attempting to leave the room before anymore could be said. But in doing so, you managed to knock your empty bowl with your hand, sending the spoon clattering to the ground.

“Woah, hey, easy there,” Dean said, bending down to pick it up for you. As he righted himself, he noticed the bowl on the table, and you saw the realisation dawn on him.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, tears springing to your eyes. “I didn’t mean to eat it all. I’m just so sorry.” As you went on, the words became harder to get out, competing with the sobs that were starting to form in your throat.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on, Y/N?” Dean asked, concern evident in his features as he guided you into a chair. “What’s all this about? Why the tears?”

“Because I ate it all,” you explained, unable to meet his eyes. “God, I’m such a pig,” you added in an undertone.

“Hey, you are not a pig,” Dean responded, crouching down to look into your eyes. “And who cares if you ate all the ice cream? I was going to if you didn’t. It’s no big deal.” You scoffed, angrily brushing away the stray tears that had spilled over the lower lids of your eyes.

“Yeah, for you maybe,” you retorted, eyeing his figure enviously. “You can eat anything you want and it doesn’t matter. You don’t have this,” you told him, grabbing at your stomach with your hands. “You don’t have to worry about buying clothes and them not coming in your size, or the looks of people in a diner when you decide to order a burger or the look of the cashier when you add chocolate to your groceries. You don’t have to worry about any of that because you aren’t FAT.” By the end of this, the sobs had become more pronounced, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to choke out any more. You didn’t want to either, knowing how pathetic you sounded.

“Screw them,” Dean answered, and you could hear the anger underlying his words. Surprised, you looked up, and saw him gazing at you with his jaw locked, a muscle twitching further back. His eyes held yours and behind the anger, you saw pain too. “Why should any of their opinions matter?” he demanded, continuing to hold your gaze. “If anyone is looking at you and thinking bad thoughts, then they’re clearly all idiots because you are freaking gorgeous, Y/N.”

“Wh-what?” you replied, shocked at the turn this conversation had taken. “N-no, I’m no-“

“Dammit, Y/N,” Dean interjected, shooting up from his crouch in frustration. “Why do you degrade yourself like this?” Seeing you recoil, he softened his tone, attempting to put you back at ease. “I just meant that you’re beautiful, just the way you are. And who gives a damn if you’re packing a bit of extra weight? You make the best goddamn pie I’ve ever tasted and I’ve never met a hunter who’s as good a shot as you, or who cares as much about the people they’re trying to protect. You make everyone else around you feel important, like they matter. That’s what made me fall in love with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “That’s what made you…what?” Dean froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard by what he’d let slip, but regained his composure quickly enough.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated, once more crouching down to meet your level. “And it hurts me to hear you talk that way about yourself, to know that you even think that way about yourself. Because I think you’re beautiful, inside and out. And I just wish that one day, you could learn to see yourself the way I see you.”

~~~~~

Please don’t repost.

Nov 5

Hey I love all your imagines they are awesome! I was wondering if you could do one where you came back from a hunt (and dean has the mark of Cain still on his arm)and dean blames you for doing something wrong even though it was something small and he hurts you really bad and after he feels sorry and tries to make it up to you thank you!!

Wow. I can’t believe it’s been two years since I last posted on here. My final years of high school were just so intense. But as of two days ago, I have officially finished my HSC (final exams). So I’m free! And I can finally get back into writing again.

I hope this is what you’re after, and please forgive me if the quality isn’t the same. I’m very out of practise.

Thanks @alexamer1234-blog for the request.

~~~~~~

Dean slammed the driver’s side door of the Impala, stalking off out of the garage and into the Bunker itself, not even waiting for you as you climbed out of the passenger’s side and hobbled after him, wincing every time you placed weight on your right leg. Looking through the vamp’s nest, your foot had slipped through a loose floorboard, most likely spraining your ankle.

“Dean, could you please just stop for a minute and talk to me?” you panted, the exertion from trying to hurry with an injury taking its toll on you. He was standing at the table when you finally caught up to him, cleaning off his blades, and he whipped around at the sound of your voice.

The look on his face forced you back a step, a dark combination of malice and rage, and despite everything you knew about him, every ounce of trust you had in him, you found yourself glancing at the weapon in his hands, praying that he would put it down. “What do you want to talk about, huh?” he demanded, taking a menacing step forward, counteracting the backwards step you’d just taken. “About you screwing up back there? About how you almost got us killed?”

You flinched, listening as his voice rose with each accusation. “Dean, what are you talking about?” you queried. “How did I almost get us killed? We were perfectly fine! We had those vamps cornered and you know it!”

“Oh, we had them cornered, did we?” Dean replied, carefully placing the knife on the table. Somehow, watching him do that terrified you more, a bad feeling in your gut. His anger you could take. But this, this sense of calm, this was not something you were used to at all, and certainly not something you wanted to familiarise yourself with. “What about when you fell, huh? Just about brought the whole place crashing down, alerting all those freaking vamps that we were there. You’re just lucky I was there to save your ass.”

“Excuse me?” you exclaimed, regaining your composure as anger flooded your veins. “I wasn’t ‘lucky’ you were there; I can hold my own, thank you very much. And I did not let all the vamps know we were there. Hell, I barely even woke one of them. And as for me falling, yeah, I tripped. But you know what? It was a goddamn mistake, and right now, my ankle freaking kills and I could do with a little concern instead of you acting like a dick!”

“What did you just call me?” Dean challenged, his eyes turning dark. You felt your composure falter, and you felt yourself longing for an escape, growing uncomfortable at the way this conversation was unfolding. “I may be a dick, but you, Y/N, you are a pathetic excuse for a hunter.” Your eyes began burning and you swallowed hard against the growing lump in your throat. This wasn’t like Dean, not at all. The Dean you knew would never speak to you like this, would never even think that way about you…would he?

“The Mark,” you stated, your head suddenly clearing. “This is the Mark talking. This isn’t you, Dean. The Mark is messing with your head.”

“DON’T BLAME THIS ON THE MARK,” Dean roared, his body looming up before you, an immense wall of strength, and you suddenly found yourself remembering just how much taller and stronger than you he was. “My head is clearer than it’s ever been. The Mark is making me realise things I should have seen a long time ago.”

“Well if you think that, you’re more of an idiot than I thought,” you retorted, your voice only shaking slightly. And then a flash of movement, a glimpse of red, raised skin, a crack filling the room, and searing pain erupting across your cheek.

You collapsed into one of the chairs, the force of the blow and the sheer pain sending you reeling. Glancing at Dean, who was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, you fled the room, clutching your cheek as tears began to fall down your face and blur your vision. Pushing past the pain in your ankle and now your cheek, you sought the safe confines of your room, where you locked the door before falling back against your bed, wishing that you’d had the chance to grab some ice on your way out, anything to dull the pain.

Ten minutes went by, half an hour, before there was a knock at your door. “Y/N,” Dean’s quiet voice came through the door. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You have no idea how freaking sorry I am.”

“Fuck off,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from sobs.

“Y/N…please,” Dean begged. And for some reason, against all your better judgement, you stood up, moving towards the door to let him in. You weren’t quite sure what it was, what made you think he could be trusted. But there was something in his voice, something raw and desperate…something genuine. You got the impression that maybe this was the Dean you knew, one you could reason with.

You opened the door to find Dean waiting outside, a packet of frozen peas in his hand, which he passed to you wordlessly. Equally silent, you reached out a hand to grab them, exposing the angry bruise covering half of your face.

“Y/N…” Dean gaped, a look of horror flooding his expression. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I can’t…I just, I don’t know what came over me. You know I’d never hurt you like that. I was just so, so angry. And I just don’t know what came over me.”

“I do,” you finally spoke up, your eyes flicking up to meet his. “It was the Mark, just like I said. It…it does things to you. It’s changing you, Dean. And not in a good way.”

“I know,” he uttered, his voice coming out strained. “I know, I can feel it. And believe me, I never would’ve taken it if I’d have known this would happen. I wish there was some way I could take it back, that I could make this right. But I just don’t know what to do.”

“I do,” you repeated, taking in his features. His shoulders, slumped and defeated. His eyes, shocked and haunted, seemingly unable to look away from the pain he’d inflicted upon you. “We’re going to call every hunter we know, go through every book in that library.” Dean’s eyes shifted to your own, clouded with confusion, unsure of where you were going with this. “We’re getting that damned Mark off of you.”

~~~~~

Well, thanks for reading! And thanks to everyone who stuck by me for the very, very, VERY long time I was inactive for.

Please don’t repost.

I absolutely love your blog!!! Could you do an imagine where Y/N is a hunter with Sam and Dean, but every week she disappears once until morning and when the guys track her down they find out that she does dance in an empty studio to relieve her stress? It would mean a lot to me if you did this imagine for me :)

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.”

~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.

Here you go!
Part One:
http://imagines-supernatural.tumblr.com/post/86936802664/is-it-too-late-for-me-to-request-a-kevin-fic-that-super
~~~~~
Several hours later, you were curled up on your favourite armchair, reading, when you saw someone perch...

Here you go!

Part One:

http://imagines-supernatural.tumblr.com/post/86936802664/is-it-too-late-for-me-to-request-a-kevin-fic-that-super

~~~~~

Several hours later, you were curled up on your favourite armchair, reading, when you saw someone perch themselves on the arm of the seat. Slipping your bookmark in to mark your page, you looked up to find Kevin smiling down at you. “So I’m awake again.”

“I can see that,” you replied carefully, placing the book down on the table.

“We should probably talk about before,” he said seriously.

“Right. Yeah,” you answered, feeling your heart sink. Of course, now was when he told you that he’d been exhausted, he’d had too much caffeine. He hadn’t known what he was saying, he was sorry for getting your hopes up. You’d had feelings for Kevin for a while now, but for him to return them? That’d be ridiculous.

“I didn’t really go about things earlier in the right way,” he said, confirming your worst fears. “It wasn’t very romantic.” Wait. What? That was unexpected, to say the least. If Kevin was hoping to be romantic, that would suggest that he was trying to impress you…

“Wh-what?”

“Here.” From behind his back, he pulled out a bunch of leaves from one of the trees outside, which he’d tied together with a rubber band. You raised an eyebrow at it, and he looked down sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. This isn’t very romantic either. But I couldn’t really go into town to get a proper bouquet, so it’ll have to do, I guess. For now, anyway,” he added.

Your lips curled into a grin, and you looked up at him, your eyes shining. “Screw romance. This is pretty perfect, Kevin.” And it was. Because it didn’t matter that these weren’t roses, tied together with a vibrantly coloured ribbon. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t a candlelit dinner. What mattered was the way Kevin looked at you, as though you were something rare and special, something to marvel over. Sitting there, feeling him look at you in such a way, you didn’t care that this wouldn’t be considered conventionally romantic. All you cared about was that he made you feel loved, and beautiful, and no roses could buy that feeling.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.

Can you write a readerxdean imagine where the reader is pretty similar to dean and they go on a road trip and they're singing and dean confesses he loves the reader and super fluffy?c:

Anonymous

Hi. I hope you enjoy this imagine!

~~~~~

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.”

~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.

Could you do one where the reader is showing Cas about human things and then it comes to 'human relationships' and then Cas goes like oh hey I wanna have a relationship with you and fluff n' stuff

Anonymous

Hey. I hope you like it!

~~~~~

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.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.

Hey! I really love your writing. You're so good. I was wondering if you could do one where the reader cuts herself and doesn't want the boys to find out. But on a hunt she gets seriously injured and the boys have to help her and it requires them to remove her clothing and see the cuts on her wrists sides and legs. And one of the boys tells her they have feeling for her and they are there for her. Fluff? And you don't have to do this if you're too swamped or anything.

Hi. Thank you!

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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i think i'm in love with your blog omg. all those imagines, they're just perfect. simple as that. you're definitly a good writer. also, could you do an imagine when the reader is sam and dean's little sister (she's 18), its her senior year and even if she hunts with them she have to go to school, but one day they found out that she's bullied, they found out because the football players have beat her and they fix it with those guys (fluffly pls)sorry for the english again, i am french, thanks :)

Hi! Thank you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me!

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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Your blog is amazing!! I've had a hard time sleeping recently so could I possibly get an imagine where the reader (a hunter and Dean's girlfriend) can't sleep so Dean comforts her and helps her get to sleep and it's just hella fluffy! Thank you :)

Anonymous

Thank you! And I hope that your sleeping habits improve!


~~~~~

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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Aaaahahahhahahahahahahhahsha I requested the Arctic Monkeys imagine and I love love loved it!!!! You should do a part two sometime :)

Anonymous

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:

http://imagines-supernatural.tumblr.com/post/84313882164/hey-i-love-your-imagines-you-should-do-a-sam-imagine

~~~~~

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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