Hey I love your blog :3 can you write an imagine where there's a zombie apocalypse and they're on the road to a safety camp and dean and the reader are arguing and Sam just pushes their heads together and they kiss or something and he mutters "finally" or something. Idk write something like that.
Anonymous
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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Hey there, can I have an imagine where me and my older sister are staying with the guys and Cas asks me for help to get him and my sister together? My name is CJ and I'm 12. Sorry, figured it would be better than me and one of the guys in a relationship. Love your blog <3
Anonymous
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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Could you write an imagine where you grew up with the boys and they mostly thought of you as one of the guys but you do a case that requires you to dress up for something and they see how pretty you are?
Hi. I’m sorry about the wait! I wasn’t too sure about the ending of this, but I think it turned out alright.
~~~~~
For years, you had been hunting with the Winchesters. And even before you had been old enough to start hunting, you remember staying in motel rooms with them while your parents went off on hunts. You were halfway between the two brothers in age but even though you were never in their classes, they still made sure to hang out with you during break times at the various schools the three of you had attended over the course of your childhood.
Sam and Dean had never treated you as an outsider. In fact, they seemed to think of you as one of the guys. And for the most part, you were. You wore the same kind of flannel shirts they wore along with your torn jeans. You learned to shoot with them and went on your first hunt with them. You played football with them and you wrestled with them. Even when you’d gone through puberty and stopped looking like a child, they’d never seemed to pay much attention. You were just Y/N to them.
But last week, Sam had come across a case involving a cursed object, which was unfortunately in the possession of a very wealthy old woman. Breaking in was out of the question, as she had very tight security on her property, so you had to be a little more subtle in your attempt to retrieve the artefact. Like in the story of the Trojan Horse, you had to sneak in under the cover of a disguise. And luckily, she had a large charity benefit planned for tonight, held right in her elaborate ballroom. And the three of you had managed to score invites through a bit of trickery.
“Y/N, come on!” Dean called out. “If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late, and we can’t afford to raise suspicion!”
“I’m coming!” you yelled back from the bathroom. Of course, this was a very formal event, and if you wanted to blend in, you had to play the part, which meant dressing up. It was the first time you had ever really done so, considering you hadn’t wanted to go to prom with a group of people you barely knew.
You stepped into your gold gown, pulling the silky fabric up over your body. The dress hugged your curves and, paired with the matching shoes, you looked ready to hit the Paris catwalks. You added a touch of make up, and slipped your grandmother’s diamond earrings into your ears. You brought your hair over your right shoulder, already styled from the hour you had spend in front of the mirror with your curler.
“How much longer are you going to be?” Dean’s voice rang out.
“I’m ready now!” You took a deep breath, smoothing imaginary creases in the dress’ fabric. Gripping the handle of the door, you slowly eased it open, stepping into the motel room beyond it. Sam and Dean were waiting there for you, looking uncomfortable yet incredibly attractive in their rented tuxes. When they caught sight of you in the doorway, their jaws dropped.
“Wow, Y/N, you look…wow,” Sam stuttered, his eyes widening in appreciation.
“You like?” you asked, spinning around to show off the back of the dress. Dean coughed.
“Damn. You look hot,” he admitted. Your cheeks heated up and you looked down shyly.
“I never realised how beautiful you are,” Sam murmured. You grinned to yourself, pleased that for the first time in your life, you had actually managed to shock the Winchester boys.
“We should probably go,” you told them, interrupting their gawking. “We wouldn’t want to be late,” you teased.
~~~~~
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Hey dear! I just discovered this blog and I love your writing. Quick question- could I have an imagine where the reader is sick and Sammy is taking care of her? Like I'm talking major fluffiness here. If you're backed up with others I don't mind, I'd never want to put pressure on you. Have a great day ^-^
Hi. You’re so sweet! And I’m sorry for the long wait, but I hope this is what you were after!
~~~~~
The sunlight streamed in through the windows, piercing into you. You brought a hand up to shield your eyes, shifting your aching body to try to find a more comfortable position on the lumpy motel mattress beneath you. The inside of your throat felt raw, as though it had been scraped over and over with sandpaper, and your skull throbbed.
“You alright?” Sam asked, overhearing your moans.
“Shh!” you whispered fiercely, pulling the covers up to muffle his voice and protect your head from further pain. The bed dipped beside you and the covers were gently tugged off by Sam.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
“I’m sick,” you answered thickly, your blocked nose distorting the sound of your voice.
“I’ll tell you what,” Sam began, tucking the covers back around you. “I think I saw a convenience store around the corner when we got here. I’ll go pick up some stuff for you and then I’ll come take care of you. How does that sound?”
“Very good,” you mumbled. Sam smiled and kissed you on the forehead before grabbing his jacket and turning to leave the motel room. “Sammy?” He turned back around, looking at you expectantly. “Could you please close the curtains? They’re hurting my eyes.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” he answered, drawing the curtains back across the window. He left and you settled back into the covers, trying to get back to sleep. You figured that if you rested for a bit, you wouldn’t have to deal with the aches and pains of being sick. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fall back asleep. Eventually though, you managed to drift off into a semi-conscious state. However, this was interrupted when Sam came back into the room. Even though he had tried to be quiet, the soft thud of the door closing sent sharp spikes straight into your skull, causing you to groan in pain.
“Did I wake you?” Sam asked in concern.
“I wasn’t really asleep,” you replied, turning around so that you could see him. He sat beside you on the bed, brushing the stray strands of hair back from your sweaty face.
“You’re burning up.” He frowned, standing up and heading into the bathroom. When he returned, he held a wet face washer in his hands. Coming back over towards you, he gently dabbed it onto your face. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you leaned into the cool relief that it provided.
“So what did you buy at the shop?” you murmured.
“I got some tissues, aspirin, soup, movies and chocolate.” You cracked open one eye.
“Chocolate and movies?”
“I figured we could stay in and watch a few movies,” he explained.
“You’re staying with me?” you asked hopefully.
“Of course!” he answered. “Where else would I go?”
“Well, you could go do something else if you wanted. I don’t want you to get sick,” you told him. If he got sick because of you, the guilt would be overwhelming.
“I’ll tell you what,” Sam said, leaning in conspiratorially. “I’ll take care of you while you’re sick, and if I get sick because of you, you can take care of me and we’ll call it even. What do you think?”
You smiled up at him sleepily. “It’s a deal.”
“Alright,” he answered with a smile. “I’ll make you some soup and then we can watch the first movie.”
“Wait!” you called out as he got up to go to the small motel kitchen.
“Yeah?” he asked, turning back towards you.
“Can I have some of that chocolate first?” you asked shyly. Sam grinned, shaking his head softly before coming back to your bedside.
“Of course,” he murmured, passing you the block.
“Sammy?” you called again as he attempted to head to the kitchen for the second time. He paused, looking back at you while he waited for you to continue. “You’re the best,” you told him.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading! I’m sorry I haven’t posted over the past couple of days. I went to see Captain America: The Winter Soldier (which was epic) and then slept over at a friend’s house, so I didn’t really have a chance.
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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.
~~~~~
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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.
~~~~~
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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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