#Kas’ 2.5K dialogue challenge

[pinknerdpanda]

Unexpected

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Word Count: 2209

Warnings: Fluff, drinking, mentions of sexy times

A/N: This was written for @kas-not-cas’s 2.5K Dialogue Challenge. Congrats on hitting such a great milestone! My prompt is bolded below. 

A/N 2: Thank you to my betas @hannahindie and @wheresthekillswitch. I love you muchness! Also thanks to @canonspngifs for the gif - you all do such a great job of keeping everything nice and organized!

Tags are at the bottom. If you would like to be added to my forever tags, please send me an ASK.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

Unexpected

Now

There are a lot of things that you have come to expect while hunting with the Winchesters. For example, you can pretty much guarantee that there will be a lot of running. Running from bloodthirsty vamps; from the local badge who have just discovered that ‘Agents Lennon, McCartney and Starr’ don’t actually work for the FBI; from Dean when you accidentally forget that Baby was in drive instead of reverse before stomping the gas.

Also, you can expect to eat some of the greasiest, most deliciously sinful cheeseburgers known to man and that, usually, pie will follow close behind. There’s always a good chance that the cute, available waitress behind the counter will catch Dean’s eye, and certainly vice-versa. And you know that when you settle up the bill, Sam will be thrown the keys and a wink from his older brother, leaving the two of you to head back to the hotel room without his company.

Some things, like listening to the same worn out copy of Led Zeppelin IV from the backseat while Dean steers the Impala down dark, nearly deserted highways, Sam snoring softly from the front seat, are like comforting little family traditions that make you feel warm and safe. Hell, at this point, you can basically count on there being an Apocalyptic catastrophe on the horizon about every year or so.

But, of course life with the Winchesters is full of variables too. Sometimes the monster you are hunting ends up being something altogether worse than you could have anticipated. Then there’s the thing with Charlie; well, none of you could have imagined that, and not a day goes by that you don’t miss your sweet friend.

However, there are some things that you couldn’t make up if you’d tried, and today - or last night, rather - is one of those days.

—-

As you wake to the sound of a knock against the window, you squint into the harsh sunlight, dazed and disoriented. Your mouth is dry and tastes like ass, and your head feels like it has been run over a half dozen times with a zamboni.

The knock sounds again, and you cringe. Your back is too warm and there is something heavy on your waist. Shifting uncomfortably, you try to sit up, that’s when your hand hits skin. The heavy thing - an arm, apparently - tightens around your waist. You freeze. Who the fuck am I spooning with?

“Y/n?” Sam’s muffled voice sounds like a loudspeaker has been placed right up against the car window. Wait, car window?

You glance around, frantically trying to recall what car you’re in, how you came to be in it, and with whom. The seat you are laying on is long and covered in leather, and something about it seems far too familiar. A loud snore sounds in your ear just before you spy a piece of grey and black plaid fabric draped, haphazardly, across the front seat. Fuck me.

—–

Last night

“OK, well, when in Rome,” Dean stands. “The next round is on Mr. Arnie Franzoni.” He smiles broadly, winking while flashing his most recently obtained fake credit card before heading back toward the bar.

“That’s not…that doesn’t even make sense, Dean!” Sam shouts at his brother’s back, smiling and shaking his head before turning his attention to you. “He’s an idiot.”

“So, you really don’t like clowns, huh?” You laugh, taking a swig of your beer. Sam shakes his head anxiously. “I can’t say I really blame you Sammy. Creepy as fuck.”

“Fresh beer and a round of shots for everyone.” Dean sets down the bottles carefully and distributes the shot glasses before taking his seat again. “To ganking as many evil sons-a-bitches as we can!” You all raise your glasses and nod before tipping them back and swallowing their entire contents, slamming them back down in unison.

If this had been your first or second round of shots, you would have winced, trying not to gag at the burn as it slid down your throat. This was, however, your fourth round and you were beginning to feel the warmth in your belly as the alcohol wove its way through your bloodstream.

Sam stood, pulling his jacket off of the back of his chair, before slipping his long arms through the sleeves.

“Oh come on, Sammy! Stay awhile!” Dean goaded his brother.

“Can’t.” Sam quirks an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a cocky grin, accenting his dimples. “Meeting someone.”

“What? You have a date?!” You gape happily for your tall friend, throwing your hands up over your head in excitement. Probably a bigger reaction than necessary; thanks alcohol.

“And you never said?” Dean’s eyebrows crease in mock astonishment. “Who’s the lucky lady, Sam? Is it the librarian from earlier, the one who was giving you the eye?”

Sam’s cheeks redden slightly and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah it is.” Dean’s face lights up with pride. “She was hot and I bet she’s pretty kinky. Don’t let those thick glasses and bun fool you! You go get her, tiger!” Dean shouts as Sam turns, heading toward the door. “Make sure you pick a safe word!”

Sam turns around, lifting his middle finger in Dean’s direction, before opening the door and stepping outside. Dean chuckles and takes a pull from his beer. You can’t help but notice the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the cold drink, or how perfectly his plush lips mold around the bottle. Not only do you notice, you stare. He lowers the bottle, his tongue darting out to lap at the few drops of liquid from his lips, before pressing them together.

“You know…” He starts and stops as he looks at you, your eyes wide and your lips slightly parted. A wicked smile crosses his face, but he doesn’t say anything. You look away instantly, the warmth in your cheeks having little to do with the copious amounts of alcohol in your system now.

Dean clears his throat before looking away and hiding his smile behind another sip from his drink. You reach for yours, careful not to look at him again. Damn him and his damn sexy mouth.

—–

Now

“Dean.” Your throat is raw and your voice is raspy as you whisper-shout. His arm loosens slightly as you try to sit up. “Dean!” He shifts and you feel that at least one part of him is awake. Shaking your head, you tap his arm.

He releases your waist, groaning loudly. The sound is both highly erotic and louder than you can handle at the moment. You grimace, peering down the length of your body to make sure your dress was pulled down, covering your lady bits.

Sam knocks on the window again. Dean slides to the other end of the bench, making enough room for you to sit upright. You put your face as close to the glass as you can, looking up into Sam’s hazel eyes and frowning.

“Sam, I love you, dude. But if you keep doing that I will break your fingers.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he flattens his hand across his eyes to see inside the car.

“Is that…Dean?” Sam’s face twists into an expression mirroring your own internal monologue; confusion, disbelief and shock.

“Yes. Go away now, Sam.”

Sam backs slowly away from the car before disappearing from view. You rub your eyes harshly, desperate for any excuse to not have to look over at Dean. The memories of the night before are fuzzy at best, and you aren’t sure if you’re more upset that you may have slept with your best friend, or that you were too drunk to remember if you had.

“Morning, beautiful.” The low, throaty rumble of Dean’s sleep-thickened voice sends a shiver down your spine as it reverberates off of the doors. It takes several beats of silence for you to register that he is speaking to you. Who else would he be talking to, dumbass.

You take a deep breath before finding the courage to look at him. “Dammit Dean.” You shake your head in frustration.

“What?” He’s confused. And really, you can’t blame him.

“It’s just…” you glance sideways at him, swallowing thickly. “Of course you wake up, looking hot as fuck despite the fact that we drank our combined weight in beer and whiskey last night. While I’m riding the hot-mess-express over here; hair’s a wreck, bags under my eyes and makeup probably smeared…”

Your words are cut off as Dean’s perfect, pink lips press to yours. You pull away, covering your mouth self-consciously. Morning breath is not exactly sexy, not to mention hungover morning breath.

“I said, ‘Good morning, beautiful.’ and I meant it.” His eyes shimmer like emeralds in the morning sun. You sigh, not wanting to argue.

“What happened last night? I guess we…” you gesture vaguely between the two of you questioningly. Dean grins wildly, his eyes crinkling mischievously.

“You don’t remember?” His lips push out in a satisfied pout. You shake your head. “Hm. I could tell you. Or, I could make you suffer.” You punch him in the arm and he flinches, rubbing the spot although you’re sure you didn’t actually hurt him.

“I swear to god, Winchester…”

“OK ok…you didn’t let me finish. OR…” Dean overemphasizes the word. “Or…I could take you to dinner and we can discuss it in detail.” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis. “You know I am not one to kiss and tell.” You roll your eyes. “What? Come on. We can get all dressed up, go to one of those fancy places, order off the wine menu…”

“That’s it!” You announce suddenly, bending down and digging under the seat blindly with one hand. “That’s what I need right now.”

“Do…Do we need wine?” Dean’s face draws up in confusion, but at least appears to be enjoying the view down your dress from this angle.

“No, I need wine, you need to put your pants back on.” Your hand hits cool glass and you close your fingers around it and pull it out triumphantly. “Aha!” Dean’s face is still contorted.

“I have so many questions right now. First, what? And also, huh? Where did that bottle of wine come from?”

“Remember that hunt last month, the one with the bees?” Dean nods slowly. “The beekeeper gave me a bottle before we left, as a thank you. I guess he makes it himself. I remember leaving it in the car after we got back to the bunker and never got it back out.” You inspect the neck of the bottle, thankful to find there is no cork, just a screw top seal.

“And you are opening a bottle of wine at,” he glances at his watch, “9:30 in the morning, after complaining of a raging hangover because…?”

“Oh come on, Dean. Hair of the dog? My granny always said the fastest way to cure a hangover was with more alcohol.” You smile, tipping the bottle back and swallowing a mouthful. You hand the bottle to Dean and frown. “Much drier than I expected.”

“OK you never answered my question,” Dean remarked before screwing the lid back on the bottle.

“Yeah, well, you never answered mine,” you mutter.

“Yes.” Dean’s rough voice catches you off guard, and you are surprised to see the heat coming from his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Yes. We did…” he gestures between you, copying your movements from before.

“Oh god.” You put your head in your hands. There was little evidence to support any competing theory, given the fact that your underwear were still sitting on the floor next to your foot. But to have the confirmation was mortifying. “Dean, I’m so sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for, princess?” his hand lands on your bare knee, the weight of it making your stomach flutter. “I have wanted you for a while now. And you were just as amazing as I’d hoped you would be.”

“What do you mean, you’ve wanted it for a while? What about all the waitresses and barflys?”

“I was afraid if I told you, I would eventually say the wrong thing and screw it up. I was afraid you would end up leaving.” Dean’s gaze is pleading.

“If there is anything I have learned, it is to expect the unexpected, Dean. None of us are here forever. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.” You smile at Dean, placing your hand over his.

“Did you just ‘Ferris Bueller’ me?” he chuckles. You nod once before your face falls. “What’s the matter?”

“I am just so pissed I can’t remember any of last night!” Shaking one fist in frustration, you grumble unhappily.

“Sweetheart, just call me ESPN, because I specialize in instant replays.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes, trying to hide the grin on your face. He grabs your hips, lifting and twisting you so you are straddling his lap. His kiss is deep and fiery, and you moan into his mouth. He captures your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling slightly before releasing it.

“And I can promise, you won’t forget anything this time.”

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[spoopy-imagines-writer]

Worth It

Prompt: “There’s something you should know in case I dont make it back.”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1620

Warning: angst, fluff, spoilers for season 12 episode 22, slight canon divergence

A/N: This is my entry for @kas-not-cas’s 2.5k Follower Writing Challenge! This reminded me how much I love writing Dean! lol -Jo

Your heart burst with pride as Sam told the hunters his plan to take the fight to the British Men of Letters. This man had been through so much, at one point having been hunted and killed by two of the same hunters in the room. Dean too…

You made a mental note to trip Roy and Walt out in the driveway.

You looked over and saw Dean’s small smile at his baby brother. He’d talked to you before about staying out of this fight, claiming it was because of his leg but you knew that it was because Sam needed to do this, and he needed to find a way to get Mary back. It didn’t make him any less worried though, especially when he would tell Sam.

Sam wrapped up his speech, and Jody herded everyone out of the front door. You turned to face Dean and bit your lip. “There’s something you should know in case I don’t make it back.”

Dean pulled back to get a better look at you. He put a hand on your cheek, his brows furrowing in concern. “What is it, sweetheart?”

You grabbed his hand holding your cheek. Smiling, you kissed his palm. “… It was me who ate your last slice of pizza, not Sam.”

He coughed out a laugh and shook his head at you. “Ya know, I hear normal couples tell each other ‘I love you’ before going into life or death situations.” He kissed the top of your head.

You scoffed. “What kind of chick flicks have you been watching?”

“The kind you make me watch when you’re feeling like a sap.” His voice got rougher with emotion as he watched hunter after hunter file out of the door.

“Hey.” You grabbed his face, forcing his eyes away but his gaze stayed down. “It’ll be okay, Dean. We’re gonna come back from this. I know we’ve got a lot on our plate, but we’ll make it out of this. All of us.” You tried your best to sound confident. Dean was always the one looking after everyone, you knew you needed to be the strong one this time.

He finally looked at you. “You and Sammy take care of each other, okay?”

You nodded. “Promise. You be careful too… Don’t put too much faith in Toni Bevell. Alright?”

He kissed you hard on the mouth, pouring everything he was feeling into it. “Promise… Now go kick some ass, sweetheart.” He turned to see Sam walking towards the two of you.

“You too.” You stood and shot Sam a smile and a thumbs up, and walked away. You didn’t look back, because if you did you worried that Dean might see the worry that finally showed on your face.

It became obvious very quickly that subtlety would get you all nowhere. You followed closely behind Sam and Jody, keeping watch in the sides where they had to watch from the front.

Movement from the right caught your eye and you took out the man of letters who was gunning for Sam. He nodded his appreciation and you all continued forward. There were a few others who were taken care of quickly, and before you knew it you were in the control room. Inside was the man behind the curtain. Well, woman. Immediately you had your gun trained on her. You were expecting anything, especially as she tried making Sam see “reason”. “Listen, Dean-“

“It’s Sam!” you both said at the same time. Sam continued. “You must be Hess, I trust. You’re in charge of this whole operation? Or uh,” he smirked, “what’s left of it.”

She continued talking in a last-ditch effort to keep Sam from just shooting her. She went on about how it would be a grievous mistake to sever ties with the British Men of Letters, and tossed him a file. While he was looking at it, you heard movement from the hallway. Turning quickly, you saw a woman in black aiming a gun at Jody’s back. Just as she pulled the trigger, you shouted, “NO!” and dove in front of the bullet. There was a sharp pain in your middle, and then it turned white-hot. Tears burned your eyes. You couldn’t really focus on hearing anything. You struggled to breathe. Your eyes closed and you didn’t know anything else after that.

Above you Sam took out the person who shot you while Jody took care of Hess. Sam didn’t know if you were alive or dead but he knew he had to get you back to Dean. He picked you up and they ran with you out into the halls of the confusing building. Everything was moving in slow-motion to Sam, and the only person who helped him was Jody. She led him and everyone else out to the cars.

“Sam,” she said, “just lay her down in the back. I’ll stay with her and try to take care of the bullet wound as best as I can, but you need to drive and we need to hurry. Okay?” She put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile, even though he could see through it. You weren’t going to make it, and they both knew it.

He swallowed hard and nodded. He had to get you back to Dean. With that thought in mind, he laid you down in the backseat with Jody and hit the gas as fast as the impala could go.

Dean couldn’t help the relieved smile on his face when his little brother lumbered through the door into the library. His relief was short-lived, however, at the expression on Sam’s face. “Sam… Sammy what happened?” He wouldn’t think it was you. He couldn’t. You were only giving the brothers a few minutes to themselves like you always did after a hunt. That’s all, and then you would come in and make him watch The Notebook or Disney movies, and it would be okay.

“Dean….” Sam swallowed thickly. “Everyone’s okay. We lost a couple of people but… It’s over.” He gave a watery smile to his brother. “Y/n got shot and it was touch and go, but she’s okay. Alive, breathing, and annoying as ever.”

“I heard that!” Dean thought he was hallucinating when he heard your voice from the other room. “Will you two kiss and make up already so I can kiss and make out with you!” He heard the slight strain when you spoke.

“Sweetheart?” Dean limped over into the war room where you were resting in a couple of chairs with your legs propped up. He took notice of the amount of blood soaking your clothes and paled. Your labored breathing filled his ears. “What happened!”

“I’m okay, you big squirrel.” You smiled at him. “Just a little gunshot wound.” Your eyes traveled to his leg still concerned but you would take a look at it later after everyone had settled down. “We have matching gunshot wounds now! We can’t do anything by ourselves, can we?” Your eyes twinkled with mischief. “Nothing a little whiskey and Nicholas Sparks can’t fix. I’m all bandaged up and it’s not bleeding as much anymore.”

“I don’t-“

“Stop,” you interrupted him. “Go be with your brother. He’s a hero, ya know. It might do him some good to hear it. I’ll be waiting right here.”

Dean nodded. He kissed your forehead for a long moment before he went over and pulled his brother in for a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re back, man.” His voice was full of emotion. He stepped back and took a long look at his brother to make sure he didn’t have a scratch on him. He patted his head, neck, and arms just to be sure.

Sam smiled weakly. “I’m fine, Dean. Really, Y/n got the worst of it and she’s gonna be okay. But… There is something I have to tell you.”

Sam explained to you, Mary, and Dean everything that Hess told him before Jody shot her. How Crowley is supposedly dead, how the devil is back in his old vessel. How Kelly was on the verge of giving birth and they still had no idea where her and Cas had gone. You all did research on what signs to look for when a Nephilim is born and it was basically just a lot of anything weird in one spot was where they were. But it couldn’t be just your run-of-the-mill calf with two heads, it had to be something big and something bad.

“You rang?” a familiar voice suddenly came from the end of the table. Dean didn’t even give anyone time to react to Crowley suddenly appearing. He was throwing punches first and asking questions later.

You pulled him back by his shirt with as much strength as you could. “Stop it, you’ll make your leg worse,” you said sternly.

“Sorry, sweetheart…” He winced as he sat back down and curled you into his side.

Crowley sat up and straightened his suit back out. You were all oblivious to the look he shared with the youngest Winchester. Sam clenched his jaw and shook his head. No one needed to know what he did in order to save you. When you stopped breathing… Sam dropped Jody off with one of the other hunters to catch a ride back home.

Crowley’s soft spot for you and the Winchesters worked in his favor. No other demon would deal with him, and Crowley’s counter-offer was a good one. He couldn’t heal you completely, but he could put the gunshot in a different place. Your leg. And looking at you and Dean… he knew it was worth the price he would pay.

TAGS: @kas-not-cas @fangirl1802

[wayward-marvel-sommer1196]

No Memories

Pairing: Dean x Winchester Sister!Reader, Sam x Winchester Sister!Reader, John x daughter!reader

Warnings: Abandonment, drugging, kidnapping, abuse, car crash, hospitalization

Word Count: 4721

A/N: This was written for Kas’ 2.5k Dialogue Prompt Challenge @kas-not-cas My prompt was “You have no idea who I am, do you?”. This takes place about mid season 5, not that it really matters. That is the time frame that fits the ages I’m working with and it was before the bunker. This isn’t the whole story I promise. I meant for this to be a one-shot but it got really long, like this is the longest one-shot I’ve written, and I’m tired from cleaning all day so I thought this was a good place to stop. The second part will probably be really short but it will wrap things up and will be out tomorrow. That being said, I am really proud of this one so tell me what you think feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.Also un-beta-ed and unedited because I’m tired af so all mistakes are mine and I apologize in advance. 

Summary: You are John’s youngest and Sam and Dean’s little sister. You were basically left in their laps by your mother as an infant. One day, when your five years old, you are kidnapped on Dean’s watch. Ten years later you run into Dean in a coincidental accident. What happens when he recognizes you?

Masterlist - No Memories 

^ pretend thats young Dean 

^ I know that’s JJ but lets pretend this is the relationship that Dean and his little sister have.

^When the part comes and you will know it. Imagine this but obviously not as romantic because that would be weird, especially considering the events taking place at that moment.

Dean’s Age: 16

Sam’s Age: 12

Reader’s Age: Like a month old

There was a knock at the door and Sam and Dean just looked at each other. They never had people come to the door. John was in the bathroom and before they could ask what to do another knock rang at the door.

“Dean! Get the door!” John shouted through the bathroom.

Dean stood up and cautiously unlocked and opened the door. In front of him stood a woman. She was about 5’6, had long blonde wavy hair, blue eyes, and a slender build. Exactly John’s type was the thought that rang through Dean’s head.

“Uhhh… is John Winchester here?” she asked.

“Dad!!” Dean yelled out for his father. That’s when Dean heard shrill cry and noticed the pink and black baby carrier she was holding and his eye widened. “Dad, you really need to come out here.”

“I’m coming De- Madeline?” John said.

“Here you go John. She’s your kid. I never wanted this. She’s your problem now. I can’t handle it,” Madeline said as she handed John the carrier, with the still screaming baby, and the baby bag on her shoulder.

“What? No. I can’t take her. She’s just a baby. You know the life I live and I already have my boys. It’s bad enough my boys live this life she doesn’t need to be thrusted into it too. AND she’s your daughter, and doesn’t deserve to be called a ‘problem’,” John said.

“Well, either you take her or she sits outside your door because I’m done.”

“How can you be so cruel? She’s an infant. She didn’t ask to be brought into the world. YOU brought her into the world. That was your decision.”

“I didn’t make her myself John. Last I checked it still takes two to tango. And I thought I can do it but I can’t and by the time I figured that out it was too late to turn back so either you take her or she sits outside,” Madeline said with finality as she turned and walked away.

“Wait, at least tell me her name.”

“Y/N.”

John finally looked down at the screaming child and started to panic. He had no clue what he was going to do. When Sammy was an infant he wasn’t a hunter yet. He was able to care for him, until he couldn’t. But now he and Dean are grown and he was a full-blown hunter. He couldn’t drag an infant into this. He needed air. He needed time to think alone.

“Dean,” John said.

“Sir?” Dean replied.

“This is Y/N. Take her. I need to run an errand and I’ll be back when I get back,” John told his son as he handed him the carrier and walked out the door.

Dean looked down at you crying in the carrier and gave you sad eyes. He couldn’t believe your mother could just hand you over like that. He put the carrier down, pushed the handle back, and started unbuckling you. You reached your arms out to him wanting him to pick you up and he gave you a sad smile and did as you wanted.

“Hey, sweetheart, shhhhh…. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you,” Dean cooed while bouncing you in his arms.

After about a minute you stopped crying and settled into Dean’s arms. He couldn’t help but smile. Once you calmed down Dean couldn’t help but notice that you had the same green eyes he did. There was no question in his mind you were a Winchester.

Sam sat and watched the whole ordeal and couldn’t help but be happy to have a little sister. He always wanted a little sibling and now he smiled to himself looking at how adorable you were. “Dean?” Sam said.

“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean said.

“Can I hold her?”

“Yeah, just be really careful,” Dean said as he carefully handed you to Sam. Sam held you gently and smiled when you giggled at him. He just thought you were the most adorable thing in the world. After a while you ended up back in Dean’s arms and he found a bottle in your bag and heated it up and fed you. You just sat in Dean’s arms smiling at him and he knew he was done for. You would be able to get him to do anything. You couldn’t even talk yet and you already had him wrapped around your little finger.

About two hours later John came walking back in the motel room with his arms full of bags. He called for Sam to get the rest out of the Impala as he saw you in Dean’s arms. When John walked in and saw the bond you had already created with Dean he knew keeping you was the right decision. He couldn’t believe how good Dean was with you. He saw his oldest son pacing the room with you wrapped in a pink fluffy blanket asleep in his arms.

Sam came back into the room with the rest of the bags and John started to unpack everything. He had a couple boxes of diapers, wipes, bottles, formula, blankets and spit up rags, clothes, toys, and whatever else John could think of getting for you.

“Well boys, how do you feel about having a little sister? Because it looks like we have a new addition, a new little Winchester,” John said.

“We love Y/N already, Dad,” Sam said as he looked over at his brother with you.

Five Years Later

Dean’s Age:21

Sam’s Age: 17

Reader’s Age: 5

“De?” you said.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Dean said.

“Where’s Sammy?”

“He’s at school remember sweetheart? I told you that this morning.”

“Oh yeah. Is he going to be home soon?”

“In a couple hours, why?”

“I’m bored and wanted Sammy to play with me.”

“I’ll play with you sweetie.”

“But you don’t like to play with Barbie’s.”

Dean chuckled and nodded his head, “Yeah, you got me there sweetheart,” he said as he knelt in front of you lightly grabbing your chin. He would never admit it but to Dean you were more than his little sister, over the years you had become more of a daughter to him. He raised you more than John did so in his head you were his daughter. “Why don’t we go to the park to kill some of that energy you have building up?”

“YEAH! The park is so much fun, De,” you said as you jumped into his arms.

“Okay, but first you need to change into shorts. A dress isn’t appropriate for the park. And you need to put on your sneakers.”

You ran and changed as quick as you could and grabbed your sneakers. You ran to Dean because you still didn’t know how to tie your shoes.

“We really need to get you velcro sneakers,” Dean said with a smile on his lips.

You guys were at the park and every new item you tried you called for your big brother to watch you. He looked over and smiled every time and couldn’t help but think how adorable you were and how happy it made him that you wanted him to see you try everything.

When you were on the third jungle gym from the right Dean caught sight of a pretty little brunette. She was just his type and after looking at her for a minute and almost getting up to approach her, he shook his head. Now wasn’t the time. He was there with you and he needed to give you all his attention.

When he looked back to the jungle gym you weren’t there. He quickly got up screaming your name and searching each jungle gym not finding you.

“Y/N! Y/N! Sweetheart, this isn’t funny. You can’t hide from De. Come on Y/N. Y/N!!!!!!” Dean screamed having no luck and starting to panic. His heart started racing and started approaching people asking if they had seen you.

“Excuse me ma’am but have you seen my daughter she was at the last jungle gym. She has brown hair in braids, wearing a princess shirt, and blue jean shorts, with pink princess sneakers? Please she’s only five,” Dean pleaded with the woman.

“Sorry, sweetie I haven’t seen her but I’ll keep an eye out. I hope you find her,” the woman said.

“Thank you,” Dean said with a shaky voice. He was in full panic mode, putting both hands to his head and looking around. He knew he had to call his father.  He also knew his father was going to blame him, which he already blamed himself so that didn’t matter, but his father would hate him for this. He pulled his phone out and dialed the number with shaky hands still looking around the park.

“Dean, I can’t talk right now. I’m busy,” John said as he answered the phone.

“I know that Dad, but this is an emergency,” Dean paused not sure how to tell his father. “It’s Y/N, she’s …she’s”

“What Dean? Is she hurt? Sick? What’s going on? Is my baby girl ok?”

“She’s missing,” Dean just blurted it out like ripping off a band aid.

“WHAT??!!!?! Son you better be lying. So, help me…”

“Dad, I’m sorry we were at the park and I looked away for a second and when I looked back she was gone. I looked everywhere. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. What can I do?”

“Stop saying sorry and you’ve done enough. I’m on my way back now. You need to go pick up Sam and we will meet back at the motel, go it?”

“Yes, Da- “

“It’s Sir,” John interrupted with fury in his voice. Fury for Dean and fury for whoever took his baby girl. John didn’t know that Dean had also felt like he lost a child and Johns dismissal of him only added to the guilt already building up as the minutes ticked by.

Meanwhile…….

You were playing on the jungle gym when a lady called your name. You cautiously walked towards her but not to close.

“Sweetie, your father has been hurt and told me to come get you?” the lady said.

You were skeptical of her so you said, “Okay, but first I need to get De. He’ll want to see Daddy too.” When you went to turn around the lady grabbed your arm and injected you in the neck with a needle filled with a clear liquid. You were confused when all the sudden your eyes starting closing and you fell unconscious in her arms hearing Dean scream your name calling for his ‘sweetheart’. All you wanted to do was call out to him but with the drugs now in your system all you could do was let the darkness take over.

When you woke up you were in a strange bed room. You didn’t recognize anything and you were scared. Usually when you woke up in a strange place you had De with you or sometimes Sam or on very rare occasions you had Daddy. But right now, you were alone so you started crying like any scared five-year-old would do.

That’s when a strange man came into the room.

“Hey kid stop whining,” he said.

“No, I want De. Where’s De?” you sobbed as the tears cascaded down your little pale cheeks.

The stranger raised his right hand and struck you against your left cheek. You stopped crying, raising your tiny hand to your cheek, feeling the sting from the stranger’s hand. You were shocked. You had never been hit before. Daddy, De, or Sam never hit you, especially when you were crying. They would comfort you, hug you, and tell you everything was going to be okay. This man didn’t care. Since he scared you he complied.

You made sure you only cried when you were alone and they were quiet cries. Every night you would cry yourself to sleep and you would cry for the same thing or rather person, De.

There were nights you would get caught and those nights were always filled with nightmares. When they would catch you, the woman would inject you with something that made you instantly sleepy. She would always whisper that this was better than the man hitting you as you blacked out.

As time went on you got older and stopped crying at night. The memories of your family faded with every injection. You no longer remembered why or who you were crying for so you just stopped. The man and woman who took you became all you knew. They became ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. They became everything you feared.

10 years after abduction

Dean’s Age: 31

Sam’s Age: 27

Reader’s Age: 15

Today was your 15th birthday and you made the decision that today was the day. Today was the day you were going to finally escape the hell you had been living in your whole life. You had had your bag packed with your essentials for the last week and you worked out an entire plan of your escape. You didn’t sleep at all the night before because of the nervousness but you knew this was what you had to do.

You made the decision 2 weeks ago, when your Dad came home drunk and angry, you knew it was going to be a bad night, you just didn’t realize how bad. He screamed at you to do the dishes so you complied, learning earlier on never to argue with him. As you did them a plate slipped out of your hand and broke. He was pissed and took that out on you. He grabbed you by your hair and dragged you to the living room and threw you to the floor. He slapped your face and kicked you in the stomach. When you were balled up on the floor he kicked you in the back and spit at you. You hobbled to your room that night and made the decision. This wasn’t the first time this happened and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Once you heard your parents leave and made sure they pulled out of the drive way and was off your street. You grabbed your bag and crawled out your window, knowing if you went out the door the neighbors would tell your parents. You walked to the abandoned car lot knowing a couple of them still ran and hotwired one and drove off. You kept driving until you needed to stop for gas the next. Once you were filled up you were back on the road.

It was the middle of the night and you were on day three with no sleep. You weren’t exactly sure where you were going, but you didn’t want to stop. However, your body was running on fumes and was physically exhausted so your eye lids started to droop. You keep them open as long as you could but finally they drooped far enough to close completely and cause you to swerve off the empty highway into a tree. You lost consciousness due to the lack of an airbag and the force of the crush.

You begin to slowly regain consciousness hearing the roaring engine of an old muscle car and what sounds like a man shouting at you trying to get your attention. For some reason the engine sounds familiar to you, you don’t know why.

Dean was driving down the highway to meet up with Sam at some sleazy motel for a case when all the sudden he heard a crash. A half a mile in front of him he saw a car slammed into a tree. He sped up a bit and through the Impala into park. He pulled out his phone to call 911 what happened, but he knew that where they were it would be a bit before anyone would show up.

So, once he hung up jumped out of the Impala and ran over to driver’s window of your car. He saw you were barely conscious, your head was bleeding, and you were just a kid. He reached his hand into your window to turn your head to face him. You could barely register what was going on. Dean grabbed the handle of your door and yanked it open and realized that your leg was stuck under the dash and that he was going to have to pry it out.

“Hey sweetheart,” he said causing a spark in your head. Why did that sound so familiar? “I’m here to help you get out of this car, but your leg is stuck. So, I need to go grab some tools from my car to get you out, okay?”

You just nodded your head not really being able to do anything else.

Dean ran back to the Impala and went into the trunk. He grabbed a crowbar and a hammer, hoping this would work. He slammed the trunk closed and ran back to you.

“Hey Sweetheart, I’m back,” Dean said. There was that nickname again. Why is it so familiar? Neither of your parents ever called you that. “Okay, this is probably going to hurt a lot and I’m sorry about that. There’s nothing I can do about the pain, but I just need you to brace yourself.” You nodded. “Ok, sweetie here I go,” Dean said as he stuck the crowbar under the dash and used the hammer to shove it in further. When he began to pry it up you let out a blood curdling scream that made Dean wince. He hated that in order to help you, he had to cause you pain. At this point your car started smoking and Dean knew what that meant but he didn’t want to frighten you so he kept it to himself.

“Ok, sweetheart your leg is free. I’m going to lift you out of the car now okay?” You answered with a nod. With that Dean slid one arm under your legs, causing you to moan in pain, and one arm around your back. You put one of your arms around his neck as he carried you bridal style from your car to his and laid you down on the seat. As he carried you, you looked into his eyes. The green orbs seemed so familiar to you. They looked just like yours. Now your front hood was slightly on fire signaling it was closer to blowing but you still hadn’t noticed.  

“My bag. I need my bag. It has everything I own in it. It’s in the back seat,” you said slightly panicked.

Dean looked back at the car nervous but knew by the look on your face you needed that bag. “Ok sweetheart, you stay here. I’ll get it.” You nodded your head and Dean ran to your car and quickly grabbed the bag and what looked like your sweatshirt and ran back to the Impala.

Once he got back to the Impala your car exploded frightening you enough to grab onto him and squeeze. He squeezed you back and looked down at your face now that he had some light to actually see your features. What he saw he couldn’t believe. It was you. His baby sister that he could never forgive himself for losing. Just as he was about to say something you feel unconscious in his arms again.

A second later the first responders showed up. The firefighters went straight to work killing the flames from the car and the paramedics came running over to you and Dean. Dean explained the accident and having to pry you out because you were stuck and that you just passed out a minute ago, to the paramedics. They nodded and went to reach for you but Dean grabbed you to place you on the stretcher. They began working on you and pushing you towards the ambulance.

Dean jumped into the driver’s seat of the impala and followed the ambulance to the hospital.

Once at the hospital the doctors took you back to get a CT scan of your head and an x-ray of your leg to check for further damage than what they were seeing. The police stopped Dean to ask him some questions about the accident. He told them everything he knew and everything he told the paramedics.

Finally, when the police were done questioning Dean, you were done with all your tests and he could go sit with you.

“Hey doc, I was the one that found her. Is she going to be ok?” Dean asked.

“Well, she has a concussion and a broken leg, but other than that there are no other fresh injuries,” the doctor said.

“What do you mean by ‘fresh injuries’.”

“Do you know her family or anything about her home life?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m not permitted to release any other information, but I have some concerns.”

Dean nodded his head at the doctor and went to sit next to your side. He couldn’t believe it was you. He thought that he would never see you again. He thought he lost you forever. But here you were in the flesh and despite the injuries you were beautiful. However, he couldn’t help but wonder back to the doctor’s words. What were his concerns? Why did he want to know about her home life? Deep down he knew why, but he didn’t want to believe it.

Dean pulled out his phone, he knew he had to call Sammy and let him know. The conversation was weird, but Sam said he was on his way and told Dean to watch you like a hawk, which Dean had already planned on doing.

The police approached the room and said they were going to contact her parents. Dean stood up to object, but before he could the doctor spoke up. He was concerned about possible abuse and didn’t want the parents in the room just yet. He wanted to evaluate all her previous injuries first. The police nodded and started to walk off, but Dean saw this as his chance to get Y/N back so he stopped them.

“Excuse me sir, can I talk to you for a second?” Dean asked.

“Sure, you have information?” the officer asked.

“Sort of. Her parents … aren’t really her parents.”

“Come again?”

“That girl in there … she’s my little sister. When she was five years old she was kidnapped from the park we were at and hasn’t been seen since.”

“Sir, that was ten years ago, how can you be sure that this is your sister?”

Dean’s anger started to spike a bit, but he kept it in check for the time being. “Because I practically raised her. Our dad wasn’t around much and her mom just dropped her off in our laps and left. I was with that little girl every day for five years. I would know those green eyes anywhere. They are the same eyes as mine. She was practically my daughter. So, when I say that is my little sister, that is my little sister. Go check, my father filed a police report ten years ago, when it happened. Try the last name Winchester.”

“Okay, we will look into it,” and with that the officer walked off.

About a half hour later you began to stir awake. Dean hastily sat up and squeezed your hand. You opened your eyes and were met with your green-eyed savior.

“Y/N, hey it’s okay. You’re in the hospital. You are safe now. Do you remember what happened?” Dean said softly.

“I remember you carrying me to your car and that’s it,” you said trying to remember if you told him your name or not.

“Well, I laid you down in my car and then you started to freak out about your bag. I ran to get it and once I got back your car blew up. I guess the blast scared you because you blacked out in my arms. Then the paramedics came and brought you here.”

“Wow, ok. Wait, how do you know my name? I didn’t tell you it.”

“Really?”

You nodded your head.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”

You shook your head no and said, “Should I?”

Dean sighed and said, “I guess you wouldn’t remember. I’m Dean Winchester.”

That name sounds just as familiar as his eyes look. “This introduction is useless now, but I’m Y/N Smith.”

He chuckles a bit but it doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. His green orbs seem to show sadness and guilt, but you couldn’t understand why. He saved you. You were alive.

“Well, the police are going to call your parents soon imagine, now that you are awake,” he said.

The minute those words hit you your eyes widened in panic and fear and you began to shake your head. “No no no no no. You can’t. Please don’t call them. I just got away from them. I can’t go back. I can’t handle it anymore,” you said as you gripped on to Dean’s shirt and the tears plummeting down your cheeks.

“Okay, Okay. Shhhh…. It’s okay. I won’t let them call. I’ve got you. It’s all gonna be okay. Hey,” he said as he craned your neck to look in his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

For some reason you did, so you nodded your head and squeezed him harder, which he reciprocated. “They…. They aren’t nice people. They never have been. They hit me. Hard. They have been beating me for as long as I can remember. Two weeks ago, after a particularly bad night, I made the decision to run away on my fifteenth birthday which was three days ago. If they find me, I’m scared to think of what they would do,” you said as you wiped the tears and looked at Dean. He looked angry. Why would he be angry? But then he looked sad and guilty again as he looked into your eyes. What was this man blaming himself for that he looked so …... broken all the time?

His phone rang and he picked it up and said the name ‘Sam’ which again sounded familiar to you. “I need to run out for a bit,” he said. He noticed the panicked look in your eyes as he spoke. He assumed you didn’t want to be alone. “I’ll be right back. I promise. I just have to go talk to someone real quick, okay?” he said and you nodded.

Dean ran down to the lobby of the hospital to meet up with Sam.

“Hey man can I go see her?” Sam asked.

“That’s what I came down to tell you. She doesn’t remember us. She doesn’t remember the life she had before she was taken. I don’t know if it was because she was so young or if it was something those people did, but for right now I’m just playing the stranger who saved her from a car wreck,” Dean said.

“Okay. Is she at least ok?”

“Physically, she has a concussion and a broken leg. Psychologically, she’s a freaking mine field waiting to blow. The people who took her abused her. They beat her. That’s why she was on the rode that late. She was running away.”

Sam’s jaw tightened and his fists clenched, having almost the same reaction Dean did at the news. He let out a breath and said, “Okay, I’ll just sit out here then. Just keep me updated and if she does remember give her my love.”

“Okay man I will. But I have to get back. I promised her I’d be quick. She’s scared shitless that her parents are going to show up.”

The brothers hugged and Dean ran back to your room.

The minute you saw Dean re-enter your room, you let out a breath of relief. You didn’t know why, but you felt incredibly safe with this man. The minute he sat back down you wrapped your arms around him again and squeezed him tight.

“Thank you, De, you muttered into his chest.

Dean’s eyes got wide in disbelief. Did you just call him by the nickname you did when you were 5?

“What…. Why did you call me De?” he asked.

“I don’t know. It just came out that way,” you replied.

Before Dean could question you further, the officer from earlier stepped into the room.

“Mr. Winchester, can I speak to you outside.”

Part 2: A Memory 

Tag List: Let me know if you want to be added 

@jensen-jarpad @sisterwinchesterwriter @27bmm @deanjensengirlmaggie @lenaabs @a-fan-fighting-for-equality @winchesters-favorite-girl

[amanda-teaches]

Undercover

Summary: Dean and you are dancing around your feelings for each other when Sam finds a case that might just draw the two of you together.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2638

Warnings: A tinsy bit of swearing. Mostly fluff.

A/N: This one is for two challenges. The first is @kas-not-cas’s 2.5k dialogue challenge. My prompt was “I can’t marry her. She’d kill me within a week!”. And, the second is for @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps‘s Golden Girls 1.5k challenge. That prompt was Dorothy: “I have a date” Blanche: “With a man?” Dorothy: “No, Blanche. With a Venus Fly Trap.” Congrats to both of you wonderful ladies on your milestones! I hope you like what I put together. :)

You trudged into the motel room just behind Sam and Dean, all three of you looking visibly exhausted. You had just wrapped up a week-long hunt, and you and the boys were running on fumes.

Sam peeled off from the group and walked over to the chair by the window to sit down, stretching his feet out in front of him. Dean, on the other hand, moved straight to the bed and fell face down on his stomach, letting out a long and dramatic groan. “I’m so tired, I think I could sleep for a week.”

Sam chuckled wearily. “A week already? On the drive home, it was only a day.”

“What can I say? I think I’m growing more tired by the second.” Dean said. “Besides, I think I deserve a week after that fight.”

You sat down on the bed beside him and laughed. “Take it easy, grandpa. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh, yeah?” he muttered. “That’s easy for you to say, Y/N. You didn’t have to be that vamp’s bait.”

“Oh, you big baby,” you said teasingly. “You loved being the center of attention.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean grumbled, turning to face you with a smile. “And, just for that ‘big baby’ crack, you get to make the beer run.”

You laughed again and stood up, stretching your arms up over your head, willing the fatigue away. “As tempting an offer as that is, I’m going to have to pass. I have a date.”

Dean sat up straight at that announcement, his fatigue suddenly gone. “With a man?”

You glared at him. “No, Dean. With a Venus Fly Trap. Yes, with a man!”

Sam laughed at that, drawing a glare from Dean. He immediately closed his mouth and looked down, a small smile still on his face. You looked at the two of them questioningly until Dean turned back to you.

“Who’s your date with?” Dean asked, his voice sounding uncharacteristically unsteady. You raised your eyebrow, but answered him anyway.

“That cute cop we met at the crime scene. Officer Pearson.”

“That moron?” Dean scoffed. “He couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag, let alone solve a crime. He’s not worth your time!”

“What are you talking about?” you asked. “I thought you liked Bryce? You said he was a good guy when we worked with him.”

Dean crossed his arms and frowned. “Well, I don’t like him now. You shouldn’t go out with him, Y/N. You can do better.”

You looked down. You knew you could do better. But, the only man that you were truly interested in only saw you as a friend: Dean. He was the only man for you, but he was more interested in the waitresses and barflies he met on the road than you. He always had been. You had long ago given up hoping that Dean would ever pick you.

So, when Bryce asked you out, you’d said yes. He was a nice enough guy, and he’d treat you to a good time. You knew it could never go anywhere, because he couldn’t make you forget about Dean, but it’d help for the night. “I appreciate your concern, Dean, but I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.”

You waved goodbye and left to go to your room to shower and change, leaving Dean dismayed and Sam concerned. “You ok, man?”

Dean blinked twice before looking over at Sam. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Y/N is going out on a date. With someone other than you.”

“Hey, Y/N and I are just friends. She can go out with whoever she wants.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, Dean. It’s me. You don’t have to hide your feelings.”

Dean frowned. “I hate when you go all psych on me, Sammy.”

Sam stared at him intently, until Dean finally gave in. “Fine! Yeah, it’s bugging me. I want to rip that guy’s throat out. But, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“You can tell her how you feel.” He held up his hand before Dean could object. “Trust me, Dean, if the choice was between you and Bryce, she’d pick you.”

“I can’t,” he snapped back, before softening his tone. “What if something went wrong, Sammy? What if someone used her to get to me? It’s not like that hasn’t happened before. I can’t put her in jeopardy like that.”

Sam gave him a look filled with sympathy. “You can’t stop living life because you’re afraid.”

“I am not afraid!” Dean growled.

“Mmm hmm….” Sam muttered, unconvinced. “I’m just saying that if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you and Y/N. You could make each other happy. You shouldn’t pass that up.”

“Yeah, whatever you say Dr. Phil,” Dean said sarcastically. He jumped up and walked towards the bathroom. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“Not anymore!” Dean yelled over his shoulder before he slammed the bathroom door shut.

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Geez. Those two really are clueless.” He shook his head resignedly before opening up his laptop and getting to work on finding their next case.

The next morning, you sauntered into Sam and Dean’s room bright and early with three cups of coffee in your hand. Your date with Bryce had been boring, which was disappointing because you’d been hoping for a fun escape from your feelings for Dean, but, you had gotten a good night’s sleep, leaving you energized and ready for the day. So, the night hadn’t been a total loss.

You put the coffee on the table by the window and moved to pull open the curtains. Bright sunlight filled the room, causing both Sam and Dean to sit up and shield their eyes.

“Good morning!” you announced happily, turning towards them with a smile. Sam muttered a quiet ‘good morning’ in response and got up slowly, moving towards the coffee like it was a magnet.

Dean, on the other hand, laid back down with a groan. “Turn off that light…”

You laughed. “That light would be the sun.”

“Then turn off the sun,” he muttered before rolling back over and covering his eyes with a pillow.

You narrowed her eyes and bit your lip in concentration. Then, you walked past Sam, a clear purpose in your mind, and kneeled down on Dean’s bed, bouncing gently. “Come on, sleepyhead! Rise and shine!”

“Ugh…” he groaned, more gruffly this time. You kept bouncing, going faster in an attempt to get Dean to give in and get up. He started to bat at you with one of his hands, pushing you away, but you dodged his blows and continued to bounce.

After a minute, Sam stepped closer to the two of you with his warm smile in full effect, the coffee already taking a noticeable effect on his energy level. “Y/N’s right, Dean. You’ve got to get up. We have to hit the road. I found us a case.”

Those four words had Dean moving immediately, years’ worth of hunter instincts kicking in. He sat up quickly, nearly knocking you over. He reached out and steadied you before you could fall and pulled you gently towards him, throwing an arm around your shoulders to anchor you. “What case?”

As Sam answered him, you ducked out from under Dean’s arm and scooted towards the other end of the bed. You tried to ignore the way your heart sped up the second he touched you. Or the butterflies in your stomach when he pulled you against him. You were over Dean. It was just a little crush that you had under control. Going on that boring date last night proved that. Right?

Yup, this is healthy, you thought to yourself. Obsessing over Dean. Again. Time to snap out of it, Y/N.

You took a deep breath and tuned back into what Sam and Dean were saying.

“I can’t marry her!” you heard Dean exclaim. You turned to him, suddenly interested.

“Marry who?!”

Sam turned to you with a questioning look in his eyes. He was probably wondering why you hadn’t been listening. “You, Y/N. He needs to marry you. Well, pretend marry at least.”

“ME?! Why?”

“Like I said, we need someone to go undercover at the fundraiser to provide a distraction so I can get into the computer system. I can’t do it, because I need to get to the computer, so it has to be you and Dean.”

“Wait a second…” you said, holding up your hands. “Rewind and pause. What kind of a case is this?”

Sam sighed, but repeated himself calmly and patiently. “Last night, I was tracking some demon activity in Chicago. I traced it all back to one house, which seems to be the source.”

You shook your head, still confused. “Whose house is it?”

Dean responded very quietly and seriously, still looking straight at Sam. “Senator Geoffrey Cardin.”

“Whoa…” you whispered. Senator Cardin was one of the most powerful politicians in Washington. If he was a demon, that could only mean bad things.

“Yeah,” Dean said, echoing your shock.

Senator Cardin was currently running for reelection, which was probably why there was a fundraiser. A VIP only fundraiser. Sam had to have pulled a lot of strings to tickets to that. Probably pledging some money from a “big name donor” who would never end up paying up.

Suddenly, you had a thought. “Wait, why do we need to go undercover at the fundraiser? Can’t we just sneak in and gank him the old-fashioned way?”

Dean grinned and pointed at you. “I like that idea better.”

You nodded, but Sam sighed. “I already told you. I need to get into the records on his computer. He could have information on other demons, or even Crowley, that we could use to beat them. This is bigger than just one demon.”

“Fine,” Dean growled. “I understand that. But, why do Y/N and I need to pretend to be married?”

“The only tickets I could snag were for a couple, not two singles.”

“But, I can’t marry her. She’d kill me within a week!”

“Hey!” You yelled. You tried to ignore the hurt that tore through you at the realization that Dean couldn’t stand the thought of being married, even pretend married, to you, but it still stung.

Dean turned to you and gave you a small smile. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You know what I mean. No one would ever buy us as a couple. They’d see right through it.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to make it work,” Sam said firmly. “Because it’s the only option we’ve got.”

You looked over at the man you were in love with. How could you possibly get through this without messing everything up?

The next night, you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror in a motel on the outskirts of Chicago, IL, where Senator Cardin was throwing his campaign fundraiser at his massive estate. You smoothed out the fabric of the long, black, figure-hugging evening gown you had picked up that morning. You didn’t usually dress this extravagantly, so you felt incredibly self-conscious. It was bad enough that you had to pretend to be married to Dean all night without somehow slipping up and admitting that you loved him, but now you had to do it in a fancy dress and heels.

You sighed deeply, trying to will yourself to step outside the bathroom to meet Sam and Dean. “Let’s get this over with.”

You stepped through the doorway, your eyes instinctively seeking out Dean. He was standing by the door, with his back to you, talking to Sam. You couldn’t even see all of him, but you could already tell that he looked amazing in his tuxedo. Not that you were surprised.

You waited patiently until Sam looked up and saw you. He did a double take before grinning and gesturing for Dean to turn around.

When Dean turned, he had a frown on his face, probably from whatever Sam had been saying, but it instantly vanished the second he saw you. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened as his gaze moved down your body, taking in your outfit.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, as if he was trying to decide something. Your self-consciousness flew back, and you assumed he was trying to figure out how to tell you how awful you looked. “Does it look alright?”

Dean grinned, like he was suddenly sure about something. “Sam, can you give us a minute?”

Sam smiled knowingly and nodded before stepping out into the hall. You really started to worry then.

“Dean, what is it? Do I look horrible? I knew it. This is never going to work.”

Dean drew in a breath and walked towards you slowly, not stopping until he was right in front of you. “Y/N, you look beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that I’m wondering why the hell I waited so long.”

You scrunched up your face. “Waited for what?”

“For this,” he whispered just before his lips crashed into yours. You stumbled in surprise, but he steadied you, pulling you into him. The second your body touched his, you melted, your arms sliding up to wrap around his neck and your mouth opening to respond to his. He took control, the heat and passion radiating from him and into you, making your knees go weak. It was a good thing he was holding you up, because, if anything was going to make you pass it, it was going to be a kiss from Dean Winchester. And, boy, did that man know how to kiss.

When the kiss was over, he pulled away, leaving you bemused and dumb-struck. “What….Why did you….What?”

Dean laughed quietly. “What?”

“You know what! Why did you kiss me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Dean…” you said warningly.

Dean grinned broadly and tightened his hold on you. “I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I like you, Y/N.”

Now it was your turn to smile. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. Of course I do. How could I not? You’re beautiful, smart, funny. Kickass.” He added with a smile, drawing a laugh from you. “And seeing you standing there looking so drop-dead gorgeous in that dress, I couldn’t stand the thought of not kissing you.”

You leaned in to kiss him again but then thought better of it and pulled back, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. “But, wait a minute. If you liked me, then what was that, ‘I can’t marry her’ stuff about?”

He looked down, chagrined. “I was worried that if I had to pretend to be married to you, even for just a night, I wouldn’t be able to hide how I felt about you and I’d mess up our friendship. So, I said that to try to get Sam to drop the plan.”

You grinned and started laughing. “I was thinking the same thing about you!”

Dean started laughing along with you, before leaning in and silencing you both with a kiss. “I guess we really are alike.”

“I guess we are,” you whispered. You pulled back and grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket. “Let’s go show everyone just how in sync we are, husband, and when we get back, I’ll show you all the fantasies I was trying to hide from you.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Then he leaned in to devilishly whisper in your ear, his breath tickling you. “And, you’d better rest up now, because I’m have a feeling we’re going to be up allllll night.”

The way he said it didn’t sound like an idea, but like a promise. A promise you were more than happy to let him keep.

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@hamartiamacguffin @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @cyrilconnelly @jpadjackles @damnandriel-in-hell @impala-dreamer @castielhasthetardis @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes

[kdfrqqg]

Stronger

Cas x Reader Warnings: Self doubt talk, Dean being awesome, language, some angst Summary: reader is having a rough week, Cas unknowingly hurts her feelings.

This was written for or Kas’ 2.5k dialogue challenge @kas-not-cas

I chose Prompt: #17 with Cas, “I’m sure that sounded different in your head, but please don’t ever say that again.”

Word Count: 1.9K

The past few days had been extremely exhausting to say the least. A shape shifter had taken you hostage for twelve hours, causing all kinds of havoc while wearing a replica of your meat suit. Luckily the guys figured it out pretty quickly, rescuing you from the cage he had locked you up in.

In the same week, Sam found a case which sounded like some vamps. This one should have been an easy, stop, drop and roll kinda situation until you got knocked out during the nest raid and Sam and Dean had to save your ass again.

Normally, things like this didn’t happen to you. This feeling that you weren’t cut out for this life anymore just kept stalking you but the boys could always find away to pull you out of a funk.

You were hanging out with Sam, Dean and Cas in the War room. Laughter flowed from all of you as everyone ragged on each about their screw ups over the years.

“Oh God, Sam, I had forgotten about that. Seriously, Dean wear a fucking condom next time.” You chuckled about the Amazon case.

“Whatever, at least I didn’t get myself seduced by that werewolf or a demon.” Dean joked about his brother’s past relationships.

The jokes kept flying most of the evening, you had finished half a twelve pack when the conversation had hit a lull and everyone sat back and enjoyed the silence.

A few minutes past when the very stoic Cas filled the air with his thoughts, “Women are the fairer sex, correct?”

“Yes, Cas, that’s how we’re perceived.” You took a large swallow of beer.

“Is it not foolish for women to become hunters? Men are stronger than women and most monsters are stronger than men so a female hunter is at an even greater disadvantage. Women shouldn’t be hunters in that regard.” The boys jaws dropped at Cas’ words waiting for you to react.

You stood up, trying not to loose your cool with the inept angel and cut him off before he said anything else to piss be you off,

“I’m sure that sounded different in your head, but please don’t ever say that again.“

With that you left the table and went to your room.

“What the hell, man?” Dean fussed at Cas.

“I was simply stating an observation that perplexes me.” Cas tried to explain.

Sam sat up in his chair, “It’s true most women aren’t as strong as men are but that is why women hunters are so much braver than us.”

“Exactly!” Dean interjected, “Shit Cas, (Y/N) is so strong. She kicks our asses all the time when we spar. She is probably better at research than Sam is.“

“Hey!” Sam called out.

“Dude, it’s true.“ He responded to Sam’s objection, “Since, she has been hunting with us, our jobs have gotten a hell of a lot easier. Women open up to her and men tell her things when she flirts with them that Sam and I just can’t pry out people. She means so much to this team and then you tell her she shouldn’t hunt because she isn’t as physically strong as a guy is. You get your ass in there and fix this.” Dean went off on Cas.

Cas cautiously knocked on the door, “Go away!” You yelled.

“(Y/N)” Cas said quietly as he opened the door.

“Castiel, what part of go away don’t you understand.” You spat as you wiped tears from your eyes while sitting up on the bed with your legs crossed.

“Are you crying?” He asked as he came towards you.

“No, I’m not.” lying to yourself and him.

“I see your tears. Are you crying because of me?” Cas inquired sitting next to you on the bed.

He caught you, so you should just be honest, “Yes and no, Cas. It’s just, I had a hard week and then what you said was very hurtful.” You spelled it out for him knowing it’s difficult for him to gage people’s emotions.

“I didn’t mean to be hurtful. I wasn’t implying that you aren’t good at what you do. I was only trying to state a fact but then Dean helped me to understand that a hunter’s value is not solely based on their physical strength.”

“He did.” You sniffed and looked at him with hopefully eyes.

He surrounded you with his arms, “Yes, he did. You’re smart, brave, and very strong. I am sorry for hurting you.”

You breathed in his warm smell as you nuzzled into his neck. “Cas, it’s ok.”

“It’s not. Your are my friend and I should have never said that. You are very important to this team and to me.” He pulled from his embrace and looked you directly in your eyes. “How can I help fix this?”

“Just stay with me, Cas.” your eyes pleaded with him as you placed your hand on his knee. His warm body pressed against yours and his kind thoughtful apology swirled your emotions for Cas. He was amazingly handsome and you really just needed to be comforted.

“I will stay with you as long as you need.” He rubbed your arm.

He was being so sweet and your hand almost involuntarily moved to his face. “I just need some comfort. Can you do that?”

His deep blue eyes nodded before his lips pressed tenderly against yours bordering on hesitant, unsure if that is what you really meant. He broke away from the kiss, “Was that ok?” He asked.

“Yes, Cas that was ok. Do want to continue?” Your voice was sultry trying to assess his level of interest.

“I would love to continue.” He wiped a tear that formed at the corner of your eye. He kissed you again still gentle with almost feather like touches to your face. It felt like he didn’t want to break you but in that moment that’s what you needed. You both laid back on the bed feeling him cuddle you to his toasty body. The kissing stopped, his arms enveloped you even more as you interlocked your legs to his. Within minutes you were asleep but Cas kept holding you.

Sam and Dean decided they were going to check up on you since you and Cas never returned. When they opened the door they saw you almost curled up in a ball around Cas with the angel’s arms encircled around you. Cas’ head moved from the pillow and signaled them to be quiet and to go away.

“Cas, who was that?” You asked still groggy from your nap.

“Just the guys.” He responded.

“Oh” you weren’t sure what think. You mind was jumbled, you shouldn’t be in bed with Cas, you shouldn’t have kissed him either and now the guys knew that you probably had a moment with him. “You should go, Cas.”

“If that’s what you want?” It should have been a statement but he posed it the form of a question.

“Not really. I don’t want you to leave me.” You protested your own suggestion.

“Then I won’t. Are you worried about us or what the guys will think?” Cas inquired.

“I know it sounds silly but yes. I’ve never kissed either of them or even wanted to kiss them. Now, I feel like I’m going to ruin everything.“ The tears started to form again.

He cupped your face, “(Y/N), look at me. You are not going to ruin anything. Don’t worry about them, they’ll understand.” He shifted his body weight, his thick thigh pressed into your core, his lips collided into yours, now with greater passion and weight behind them. His lips were delicious and tasted like honey and hops. They glided down over your jawline as he whispered kisses into your neck. You giggled as his stubble tickled a sensitive patch of skin. You ran your hand through his hair, his fingers traced down your body to your waist as your legs widened allowing him full access. You moaned feeling his clothed hardened cock against your sex.

“You are so beautiful but you’re vulnerable right now and if you only want me for comfort, I will be here for you. I just don’t want to take advantage of you.” He confessed.

You thought about it. You were almost happy that Cas stopped you, if you and Cas became lovers tonight, you would always be lovers or former lovers and no matter how you cut it and that would change everything. “I do want you, Cas.”

“Do you just want me tonight or something more permanent?” He kissed you, feeling his whole body move on top of you, he grunted a little as his hips made a slow circle into you.

“I want this to be more.” You whispered afraid to say it too loud. He moved from on top of you. You whined in disbelief, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” his kisses were more gentle like earlier, “I want to take you out, spend more time with you. I care for you greatly.”

“You do?” You thoughts ran wild, how could he actually like you.

“Yes, I have for awhile. Would you like to go out with me tomorrow night?” He asked.

A smile spread across your face as you drew your swollen bottom lip inward gently bitting it. “Yeah, Cas, I want to go out with you.”

“Good then, I should probably go now.” He kissed your forehead.

“You don’t have to leave. You could hold me if you want.” You voice was still needy. He agreed removing his suit jacket and trench coat and pressed his chest to your back.

When you woke the next morning, Cas had snuck out of your room. You shuffled down the hall towards the kitchen, Sam greeted you while you made yourself a cup of coffee.

“So how are you and Cas?” Sam questioned.

“A lot better.” You smiled.

“I’m glad.” He informed you.

Sam and you were always able to sit in silence and it not be akward. He never forced you to talk even though you wanted to but you didn’t know where to start. How do you tell your best guy friend that you kissed an angel last night but sometimes fate is funny.

”(Y/N), Sam” Dean’s voice brought you out of your own head, “y'all in here?”

“Yeah, we are.” Sam called out.

You started smiling as soon as you saw Cas walk through the doorway with Dean. “We are going on a supply run, you need anything?” Dean asked. You pointed to the list of the fridge. “Got it!”

Cas walked over and leaned in giving you a sweet peck on the lips, “We shouldn’t be too late. I can’t wait to take you out tonight.” You watched both Sam and Dean’s reactions as he pulled away realizing that Cas hadn’t mentioned anything to Dean either.

“Me too.” You grinned, “What time should I be ready?”

“Is seven ok?” His lips ghosted over top of yours.

“Seven is wonderful.” You kissed him back.

As they left, you heard Dean giving Cas a hard time, “Dude, why didn’t you tell me?” You chuckled to yourself.

“So just better?” Sam raised his eyebrows as he asked you.

“Ok we are better than better.” You simply couldn’t stop smiling or thinking about Cas. This was going to be the best date ever.

Honestly, I really do want your feedback!! It may determine how I write my next fic.

“Give it to me! You know you want to!” Writer winks at reader.

MY MASTER LIST Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged.

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Reader insert @jensen-jarpad

[georgialouisea]

Late night

Characters - Y/N Singer, Bobby Singer, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jake (OFC)

Word Count - 1400 Warnings - swearing, fluff, implied smut.  Summary - Two late night visitors lead to a big secret being revealed.  A/N -  Written as part of @kas-not-cas ‘ 2.5K follower challenge, my prompt is in bold. 

Hunting life could be tough, yet with a protective father such as yours, it became even more difficult. You’d left 2 days ago, successfully taking out a few ghosts. Your father was more than annoyed you’d taken on the hunt solo. 

Pulling your car into your father’s yard you looked for his car, finding it gone, you assumed he was out shopping or on a hunt of his own.

After unloading your car you settled on one of the sofas, a glass of wine in hand. Flicking through the channels on the TV you settled upon watching a wedding dress show.

“Y/N?” Your father’s voice rang through the house.

“Hey Dad,” you put your wine glass down on the floor and jumped off the sofa, almost running to him.

“Hey, how was the hunt?” He asked as he placed two bags on the kitchen counter.

“Good, a few ghosts sorted out.” You smiled at him as he hugged you. “Where have you been?”

“Shopping.”

“Well, I'll help you unload.”

“Thank you, princess.”

Dragging the bags from your father's car to his house you thought about your life. At 24 you were back living with your father, after a bad relationship and an even worse break up. Your father had threatened to kill your ex, you had no doubt that he wouldn’t. Bobby Singer didn't take his family being hurt lightly, let alone his daughter.

“Here,” you smiled at him as you handed him a plate of food.

“Thank you Darlin’.” He spoke as his eyes widened at the steak on the plate before him. “Any plans for tonight?”

“Not really,” you shrugged as you tucked into your own meal. Your attention returned to the TV show you were watching previously, to your surprise you Father hadn’t yet complained about it being crap.

“Oh God, that one’s awful,” he chimed in as he chewed a mouthful of steak.

“You think so? The lace is pretty.” You countered.

“No, it’s awful.” He added as he finished the last of his food. “Good God what’s happened to me?” he looked at you as he took his plate to the kitchen. “I’m going to bed, goodnight sweetheart.”

“Night Dad!” You smiled at him as he retreated to his room. As you spoke you put your own plate into the sink,  grabbing the white wine bottle you’d opened 10 minutes earlier. Granted this was your 2nd bottle but it was 11 pm the night was still young.

For some reason, you stayed up watching wedding shows well past midnight. You weren't sure if your current interest was due to your recent break-up or a lack of energy to change the channel. With a shrug, you poured more wine into your glass. A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts of a white wedding, clicking on your phone screen you read the time 2 am. You returned your glass to the floor and picked up a gun from the table in the kitchen, cocking it before unlocking the door. As you flung it open you looked up at the two faces before you.

“Y/N, hey,” Sam smiled at you.

“Sammy?”

“Hi Y/N, how are you, sweetheart?” Dean smiled down at you.

“Shut up Dean.” Your eyes narrowing at him. “What are you two doing here?”

“We need to talk to Bobby,” Dean replied his eyes never leaving you.

“It’s two in the morning he’s asleep if it can wait until tomorrow.” You paused before releasing a long breath. “Then you can stay here.”

“Well, okay then, where’s the booze?” Dean asked pushing past you as he rubbed his hands together.

“I could shoot you right now.” Your gun remained in your hand as you closed and locked the door.

“Dean,” Sam warned his brother.

“Shut up Dean, you know where the booze is.” You rolled your eyes as you flopped back onto the sofa disarming your gun before reaching for your wine glass and bottle.

“I’m sorry.” Sam sat beside you as he opened a beer. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” You lied.

“What are we watching?” Sam asked as he looked at the TV.

“A wedding dress show.”

“Things with Jake going well?”

“Erm… no, we broke up.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay Sammy.”

“Well, I can't say I don’t blame him.” Dean threw himself down next to you as he sipped on a glass of whisky.

“Fuck you, Winchester.” You groaned with a shove to Dean’s chest. “You are the worst human being  on the face of the planet.”

“Aw, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Dean smirked.

You glared at Dean as Sam sipped on his beer next to you.

“She looks pretty,” Sam spoke distracting you and Dean from each other.

“She does.” You agreed as you downed the wine in your glass.

“Well, I’m exhausted.”

“Take the guest room, Sammy.” 

“Thanks, Y/N.” Sam leant down kissing your forehead before disappearing into the hallway.

“Night Sammy,” Dean smiled at his brother.

“So…” Dean whispered as you both waited for the sound of the door closing.

“God I’ve missed you.” You grinned at Dean as you watched him down the rest of his drink, placing the empty glass on the floor. You sat up straddling him as you leant down kissing him.

“I’ve missed you too.” Dean echoed as he reached his hands under you and carried you towards your room.

As the sunlight shone through your sheer curtains you moaned as you snuggled closer to Dean’s chest.

“Y/N? You seen Dean?” Your father’s voice filled your ears as you felt yourself falling back asleep against Dean’s chest. A few knocks followed. “Y/N?” You faintly heard your door open. “Dean Winchester! What are you doing in my daughter's bed?” Bobby’s voice boomed throughout the halls.

“I knew it!” Sam shouted from behind Bobby.

“Not now boy.” He warned Sam waving a hand at him before shushing him.

“Shit.” You groaned as Dean turned to cover you up as you realised your lack of clothing. He pulled the sheets up to fully cover you both as he settled his chin on your shoulder, his lips resting near your ear.

“Your dad is going to kill me, I love you.” He whispered as he kissed your cheek.

“Dad give us a minute please.” You begged

“One minute,” He offered before he closed the door.

As the door shut both you and Dean scrambled to find the clothes that belonged to each of you. “I’m so sorry.” Dean apologised as he handed you your bra.

“Dean, listen to me.” You spoke as you focused on buttoning up your shirt. “I’ll get between you and my dad, if I don’t he will shoot you.” You insisted as you smoothed out your hair. Opening the door you prepared yourself for the onslaught. “Dad, don’t.”

“Winchester.”  Your father’s voice rattled through the house.

“Yes, Sir?” Dean responded, his tone sincere.

“Dad please don’t.”

“Y/N don’t get involved.” Your father snapped at you.

“Dad, Dean’s been there for me since before Jake and I broke up before you assume. No, he didn't jump into bed with me.” You watched as your father listened to you. “Please listen to me, it’s been six months since my break up, you’ve always liked Dean, well I love him. Please don't hurt him.”

A sigh left his lips as you watched for his response. “If I didn't know your Daddy, I would have shot you by now.” “I’m so sorry I lied to your Dad.” You apologised stepping towards him, his arms opened for you as his eyes remained fixed on Dean.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“He treats you well?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He spoke with a nod releasing you from his grasp. “Winchester.” His tone remained warning.

“Yes, sir?”

“Hurt her and I will kill you.”

“I won't hurt her, I love her.”

“You what?” Sam asked wide eyed.

“I love her.”

“I thought you two were just sleeping together, you’re the girl he’s constantly texting isn't you?”

“Maybe.”

“God you two are too sneaky.” Sam huffed as he hugged you. “I’m happy for you two though.”

“Thanks, Sammy.” You smiled at Sam, relief washed over you as you realised your secret is out. You left Sam’s arms and fell into Dean’s.

“Erm no… not under this roof Winchester.” Your father interrupted you and Dean as his lips were about to touch yours.

“We’re going to have to get used to this.” You grinned at Dean before stealing a kiss from him before your Dad could shoot either of you.

Taglist - 

@mega-loser1298 @smalltowndivaj

[impalapiegirl67]

Haunted Memories

Summary: When you and Sam go on a hunt a small fight turns into a simple mistake. An unexpected turn of events lead to one question: Will you forgive Sam?

Pairings: Sam x reader, with a little Dean

Warnings: lots of angst, a little fluff towards the end

Word Count: 2,040 (with lyrics)

Beta: The lovely @jalove-wecallhimdean (my miracle worker)

A/N: This is for two challenges; @whispersandwhiskerburn Angel’s 2k follower challenge and @kas-not-cas 2.5k follower challenge. So sorry for being late (life is crazy). My song was Little Do You Know by Alex & Sierra and my prompts are in bold. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is appreciated!

You could never trust Sam again, not after what he did. It all started with some stupid fight, hell, now it wasn’t even important enough to bring to mind. You’d forgotten exactly what started it. Maybe it was a mumbled insult, snarky remark, or someone being too controlling; whatever it was, it wasn’t enough for you to almost get killed over.

You’d been following omens and strange deaths in a small town called Blue Earth, Minnesota. It was definitely a demon that had already killed four people.

The drive to Blue Earth was filled with a deafening silence. You couldn’t even look at your boyfriend for whatever stupid thing he did. With the window open you could feel the chill of the early spring air, it was the only thing keeping you awake. It was a little over a six hour drive, but the uncomfortable silence made the ride feel like an eternity.

You should have went with Dean to hunt the shapeshifter.

When you finally got to Blue Earth you were relieved to finally get out of the car. Money was tight so of course you and Sam would have to share a room, which would be full of tension later tonight. Until then, you had work to do. You went to the morgue to check out the four victims while Sam went to interview relatives.

You never would get used to the smell of a morgue. You’d gotten in easy just by flashing your fake F.B.I badge to the older man at the front desk but as soon as you pushed open the old doors, the crisp stench of corpses filled your nose. You would never get used to staring at the lifeless bodies either. You called them ‘The Innocents’; you got it from your mom when she trained you to be a hunter. Their family members didn’t know it would be the last time they’d ever see them. They died unexpectedly because some monster killed them. They had a story and a life that just vanished because of the things they didn’t think were real, the things that went bump in the night.

Each of the victims had their throats slashed. Their pale faces and glassy eyes almost seemed to be begging for help. When you got closer to the body to examine the cut, you smelled it - sulfur. It was definitely a demon.

It was a long day, as soon as you got back to the motel room you fell asleep. When you woke up the next morning, Sam had just gotten out of the shower. The two of you shuffled around each other in deafening silence while getting ready, “It’s definitely a demon, I smelled sulfur on the bodies.” You grabbed your gun, tucking it into its holster and an angel blade. You thought this hunt would be a milk run. You were so wrong.

You arrived too late. You’d received good intel about strange activity going on in an abandoned warehouse from one of Sam’s hunter contacts. You opened the large, heavy door of a secluded room to see a young girl tied to a chair in the middle . She had blood running down the front of her shirt and her throat was cut just like the others. Shit, a fifth victim. What the hell was this demon up to?

“I’ll take care of this.” Sam grumbled, not even bothering to look at you. You were surprised he didn’t want your help, you tried to interject, “I said I’ll take care of it. Go wait in the car!” he barked. Did he think you weren’t a capable hunter?

You stomped out of the old warehouse, mumbling to yourself when you suddenly heard someone else talking. “Hey Y/N, it’s such a lovely day, isn’t it?” You were looking for the source of the female voice when you turned around to see an innocent young girl, possessed. You reached for your angel blade only seconds too late when the demon knocked it out of your hands. “Now, now Y/N, I just wanna talk.”

“Yes, lovely weather for a cold hearted bitch like you!” When you lunged forward to grab the angel blade, you were too slow, again. She punched your face and sent you stumbling back. “What the hell do you want?”

“I was wondering when one of you hunters would show up, I was starting to think no one cared. Then to see not just a hunter come, but a Winchester and his little bitch.” Her smirk was pissing you off more than her cocky attitude. “So, Y/N, what’s going on? Is there trouble in paradise? Is that why little Sammy boy threw you out? Or are you just not useful anymore?”

“Shut. Up. Bitch.” You were hurt. What if Sam was just tired of you? “He doesn’t really think that.” It was more of a question than a statement. Thank God. You seen Baby’s headlights. Which meant either Sam or Dean could rescue you now, but it was far too late.

You saw the black smoke inch quickly towards your face and you couldn’t help but let it in. It was forced. Everything was. You couldn’t even move, she controlled everything. Dean! You tried to speak but all that came out were her words, “She attacked me,” pointing to the body on the ground, “I killed her... the demon.” You couldn’t control your words and the bitch was lying to Dean. Don’t hurt him! your mouth still wasn’t moving, but you were talking. You were talking to the black-eyed bitch that possessed you.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t hurt him. Not yet, anyways.’ She was talking to you and it terrified you. Dean and Sam, they were all you had. Your mom, the only family you’d had, was killed by a demon, which is how you got into the life and met the legendary Winchesters. They took you in after your mother died and took care of you, you couldn’t lose them. ‘I can hear what you’re thinking, darling. It’s not Dean I really want.’

‘Who... what do you want from me?’ You were panicking and if you had control of your body, you would be breathing heavy and teary eyed right about now. You were thankful for that because Dean was still standing right in front of you. “I‘ll stay here and take care of this and have you and Sam go home to the bunker and get you cleaned up and you can tell him all about what happened. Sound good?” You knew you and Sam weren’t on speaking terms, so she did too. Apparently she knew everything you knew. Shit.

It was a fairly short drive to the motel, but still silent. You were packing when she spoke to you again. ‘Sam. Sam is the one I want.’ He was all you had, sure, you were fighting now, but you loved him. She couldn’t do this. ‘Of all people, I wouldn’t think you cared. After all he is the reason you got possessed by me. This is all his fault.’ That stung, was it his fault? It couldn’t have been.

She had tried to kill Sam and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. He was just walking out of the bathroom, groggily after a long day of hunting. He had his back to me and she walked slowly, and started pulling out my angel blade when Dean walked in just in time. “Hey Y/N.” She slowly put the angel blade away. ‘Dean, here to save the day, as always. You just got lucky, Y/N.’ You sounded tired, “Hey Dean,” he looked at you differently now, and you didn’t know why.

“Sam and I were just headed out to get dinner, is there anything you want in particular?”

“I would kill for a burger right about now.”

“Alright, Sammy we are getting your girl a burger.”

When they left, you knew something felt off. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You hated being possessed.

[Sam’s POV]

Why did Dean want me to come with him to get food, he was perfectly capable of getting it by himself. “Dean, why’d I have to come with you?”

“Y/N, she’s possessed, we have to help her.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“My plan was to follow your plan!”

“My plan? I didn’t even know she was possessed!”

“Well, she’s either possessed or your girlfriend wants to kill you.”

“She,” his voice broke and there was a certain sadness in his voice, “She tried to kill me?”

“Right before I walked in dude, we have to fix this.”

“Okay, let’s do it.”

It had been months. Months. You still hadn’t forgiven him, not after the way she taunted you. She reminded you everyday for the two weeks that you were possessed about how it was Sam’s fault. She made threats to kill him everyday too. Towards the end you were numb, oblivious to any feeling and just stopped caring. You didn’t care if he lived or died. That’s why you couldn’t forgive him. She made you hate him, she was going to kill him and you didn’t care. Sure, you were glad they exorcised the bitch to hell, saving you and Sam in the process, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him.

Little do you know

How I’m breaking while you fall asleep

Little do you know

I’m still haunted by the memory

Little do you know

I’m trying to pick myself from piece by piece

You were sleeping in the same bed again. It took you long enough, and you still didn’t trust yourself, but you were one to forgive. You wanted to forgive him, and yourself.

Little do you know

I need a little more time

Underneath it all I’m held captive by the hole inside

I’ve been holding back

For the fear that you might change your mind

I’m ready to forgive you but forgetting is a harder fight

Little do you know

I need a little more time

You woke up due to the sun peeking through the dingy motel curtains. The sun shone bright on your face, and it hurt to open your eyes, but you could make out a figure by the door. You got scared when you felt the empty space next to you on the bed. “Sam, what’s going on?”

“I have to leave, I can’t keep seeing you like this. Every time I look in your eyes, there’s this pain there, and it won’t go away. I know it’s because of me and everything that happened.” He was tearing up and his voice was cracking trying to stop it. “I can’t even touch you anymore without you flinching.” You could see the hurt in his eyes, he didn’t want to leave. He was doing it for you because he loved you. “That’s why I have to leave.”

Away, away

I love you like you've never felt the pain, away

I promise you don’t have to be afraid, away

The love you see right here stays so lay your head on me

Little do you know

I know you’re hurt while I'm sound asleep

Little do you know

All my mistakes are solely drowning me

Little do you know

I’m trying to make it better piece by piece

Little do you know

I, I love you till the sun dies

“No you don’t, you can’t leave me.” You were silently begging for him to never leave you. You didn’t think you could live without him.”

“Why? How can you stay with me after everything that happened?”

“You make me smile. That’s why. You make me cry, laugh sing, and get so angry I could kill you. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Away, just wait

I love you like I've never felt the pain, just wait

I love you like I’ve never been afraid, just wait

Our love we see right here stays so lay your head on me

'Cause little do you know

I love you till the sun dies

It’s true. You’d love him no matter what you went through. You could never leave him, he was your better half. And he always would be.

Tags: (I’m tagging those who might be interested, if you want on or off please just let me know.)  @thetherianthropydaily (who helped with some wording when I was stuck) @wonderange  @such-a-common-girl  @kas-not-cas  @meganwinchester1999  @jayankles  @meganwinchester1999  @notnaturalanahi  @atc74  @sdavid09  @agentmarvel13  @skybinx-blog

[jayankles]

Eleven Years of Friendship

Pairing: Dean x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 1332

Warnings: Nothin’ but a Sassy!Reader

A/N – This is my submission for @kas-not-cas ’s Kas’ 2.5k Dialogue Prompt Challenge and @wayward-marvel-sommer1196 ’s Sommer’sSarcasticWritingChallenge. The prompts are highlighted below.

Huffing, you struggled against your binds that continued to burn against your wrists as you twisted and pulled at them. 

All you asked for was one quiet calm day with Dean, but could you get that? Well the answer at first was yes; he had taken you to your favourite diner to stuff your faces with double cheeseburgers with a side of curly fries and a thick chocolate milkshake. He even paid for the meal, he was a good friend.

After you let out a long, disgusting belch, you high fived Dean and made your way out of the diner to the nearest park bench. It was calming, serene, you spent the next hour catching up with him, what he was doing – the stuff you had missed within the last few months and surprisingly enough there wasn’t as much as last time but still he mentioned that he died, again, went to purgatory and Sam killed a dog and got a taste of the apple pie life before his girlfriend’s supposed dead husband turned out to be alive – so good times, well not really but that summed up their life.

‘Wait! You went to purgatory and no one thought to tell me? You got a vampire friend? Is that even safe?’ you whispered as you saw the other patrons in the park. Your head was leaning on your closed fist, your body swivelled towards him, giving him your full attention as you listened to how Benny – the vampire – was a ‘good’ guy, but you accepted it, if Dean thought he was clean, he was a good cookie.

‘Sam should’ve told you but obviously he decided to drop of the map, didn’t even come looking for me, son of a bitch.’

‘I’m sorry, De. I should’ve known. What kinda friend am I, I didn’t even know that you were in purgatory, I didn’t even check on you.’ You scolded yourself as the realisation dawned on you that you hadn’t been there for him when he needed to get out of that horrid place. ‘Dammit!’

‘Alright, cool it, princess.’ He pulled you in his chest as the tears streamed down your face. ‘I’m alive right and that’s all that matters, ‘kay.’

His soothing voice slowly brought you down from your silent sobbing. ‘Please, stop crying. I don’t do that whole,’ he shivered, ‘emotion thing.’

You couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt to shift the attention away from you, you wiped away the tears and immediately changed you demenour.

‘There’s my girl. Wanna go someplace else, maybe take a walk?’

‘Yeah, ‘cause you love long walks on the beach, right?’ You nodded at his proposition, and leapt from the bench. When Dean caught up to you, he decided it would be fun to wrap his arm around you and swing you about before setting you on your feet and pushing you away.

That was before you got into this predicament.

Dean’s walls slowly fell away, becoming the carefree Dean that you used to see in him. His hunter instincts weren’t as strong as they should have been, and that caused you to be in the tight ropes wound around your wrists. You’d both walked into a secluded alleyway, forgeting all the dangers that you knew went bump in the night.

‘How do we keep getting into these situations?’ You had whisper shouted at Dean, clearly frustrated that this hadn’t been the first time you had been tied up, and no you filthy animal, not in the bedroom, although you have had some good times. 

Not the point!

Dean turned to you and shrugged as if he didn’t already know the answer ‘Eleven years of friendship and I still don’t know.’ He looked up to the ceiling, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as you noticed his concentrating face.

‘You don’t know? Oh, I know, maybe just maybe its the fact that youre a monster hunter and I don’t know they wanna kill the shit outta you.’

‘Shuddup, (Y/N). Now is not the time for your freaking sarcasm. I’m gonna get us outta here and we ain’t gonna die. I can promise you that.’

‘I wish my hands were free and there was some tissue around, you know.’

‘Why? You need to sneeze?’

‘Nope. So I could say, ‘here’s a tissue, you have a little bullshit on your lip.’ I am going to die if you don’t get me outta here. There is no air con and I gotta pee.’ you whined.

‘Have I ever let you down before?’

‘There was that one time, last year, when we were supposed to go to a monster truck show and you broke your leg.’ He chuckled as you tried to make light of the situation but in reality you knew Dean would do anything in his power to get the two of you out of that warehouse, or wherever you were, out of that place. He had never failed you before and he didn’t plan to do it anytime soon. You were one of his only frends that he had managed to save this far. He couldn’t bare to lose you and you couldn’t bare to lose him, again.

‘It wasn’t my fault that a monster broke my leg and I was high on morphine, couldn’t exactly think straight, princess.’

‘I know, Dee. I’m sorry. I’m just scared, what if we don’t get outta here or they leave us here to rot. And we don’t even know what they are.’

You gave up on tugging at the restains, closing your eyes as the tears in your eyes threatened to fall but you willed them away with the shake of your head.

‘Wow they should really stop tying me up near loose nails.’ Dean’s voice was closer than before, when you opened your eyes, his bright green ones were right in front of you. ‘Whada tell ya. We’re getting outta here. Alive and well, okay.’

Sagging in your designated chair, you breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way behind you and fiddled with the rope to untie your hands. You winced as you withdrew them, a burn engraved around each of your wrists, Dean’s movements were gentle as he maneuvered them, telling you as soon as you were safely out of that wretched place, he would clean and bandage them up.

To your surprise there was no complications of getting away from the room you were tied in. Dean had ensured that the both of you were quiet as he checked if the coast was clear before working up the stairs to make your escape.

You almost walked ahead of Dean but he held you back with a hand on your hip to stop you from moving further, quickly pulling you back and covering your mouth with his hand. His head tilted forward and you could see his ears perked up as he strained to listen for your captors, he removed his hand and quietly apologised but you brushed it off and let him lead you out of the facility. You stayed close by, clinging to his arm as tightly as possible.

‘Ow! I’m gonna need my arm back, princess.’ Once you made it outside, you practically launched yourself into Dean’s arms. ‘And now, my neck.’ He wheezed.

‘Sorry, Dee.’

‘’s okay. Let’s go home.’

Eleven years of friendship, and you don’t know how you got so lucky to have a best friend like Dean; he was one of a kind.

Dean was but through hell and still managed to be a child at heart, still managed to be brave, and most of all still managed to make time for you in his crazy, busy life and that was all you could ask for. His best. But he gave you his all.

And his all ended up being getting through a few episodes of Game of Thrones and a tub of ice cream before the both of you passed out, mouths wide open.

Lemme know what you think

Buy me a coffee?

@thorne93 @becaamm @jotink78 @love-kittykat21 @jensen-jarpad @hymnofthevalkyries @marvelbase001 @kurosaki224-new-blog @supernatural-jackles @cyrilconnelly @purgatoan @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @iwantthedean @ruprecht0420 @mrswhozeewhatsis @feelmyroarrrr @redlipstickandplaid @mogaruke @pureawesomeness001 @mizzezm @jpadjackles @jesspfly @1amluke @skybinx-blog @aubzylynn @balthazars-muse @deansbaekaz2y5 @plaidstiel-wormstache @lilasiannerd @valerieshubin @be-amaziing @akshi8278 @purplediamon @graceforme86 @its-my-perky-nipples @nervousmemzie @mrsbatesmotel53 @lavieenlex @percussiongirl2017 @oneshoeshort @whit85-blog @muliermalefici @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @moonlover19 @emoryhemsworth

[damn-sassalecki]

You Should Know

Here’s my entry for the @kas-not-cas Challenge!

Prompt: “I don’t like salad or eye contact” 

Summary: Reader comes home to some interesting surprises after a long trip. Of course, she has her shocking facts to share as well. 

Parings: SamxReader

Author: Nora 

Type: One Shot 

A/N: I feel like this is actually horrible but here goes nothing *hides behind the trees* 

 The journey from California back to Kansas had felt like eons. It took a lot of blood, sweat, and grit in order to convince the boys to let you go see your family; they had feared that the journey could put you and them in danger. But, after pushing the concept that Cas could keep constant tabs on you, they gave in.

 Your parents had actually almost walked in on you talking to Cas, and you quickly had to grab your phone (almost falling off the bed) and pretend you were talking to a ‘coworker’. They accepted it and left you alone once again.

 Windows down, playlist on, wind pouring through the body of the car; you couldn’t feel happier about returning home to your boys. While you would miss your other family, you knew it was for the best.

 Besides, you had grown quite fond of your broken family waiting for you in Kansas.

 Pulling into the secret garage, you hear a crash as the Winchesters burst through the door and run up to your car.

 “You were supposed to call me an hour ago!” Dean yells angrily as he yanks the driver side door open and pulls you into a hug. He roughly kisses the side of your head while you reply “I honestly forgot I’m sorry! But don’t you think calling you every two hours on a four day trip is a tad excessive? Why not when I take my breaks?”

 “Because you drive like a fiend and won’t get out from behind the wheel for unhealthy amounts of time.”

You let him go with a smirk before going to greet Sam, who should have been your first hug in theory.

 “You were gone for years.” He complains, holding you closer than you thought possible.

“It sure felt like it. By the way, how did Dean beat you to the car?”.

Sam lets out a long sigh, pressing you against the car; you can see him leaving just over Sam’s shoulder.

“He may or may not have shoved me...?”

Something between a snort and and a laugh makes it way out of your lips.

 “I swear to God that man has maternal instincts from the way he so lovingly suffocates me. But I gotta hand it to him, that was just plain mean.”

Sam laughs and grabs your tattered duffel from the Jeep. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

 You leave the boys for a beat to shower. As you gently scrub your body and run your hands through your hair, the steam brings your mind back to your trip.

 Your parents and little sister had had so many questions for you that you couldn’t answer. The only comfort you could provide them were foggy and vague blanket statements. You could tell you were stretching your luck with them, but the life you’re in provides no other options.

 Should you attempt to tell the truth, surely they’d send you to a hospital and tell you that you’re ‘unwell’. Plus, it could put them in more danger.

 You knew going into this trip that it could be dangerous for them, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. If you left for too long they’d call the police and report you missing. And if you faked your death there was no way they could survive such a loss.

 So, things were going to have to remain as they were.

 Rinsing the soap from your tired body and running the water through your hair one last time, you turn off the water and reach for a towel.  

 After pulling on your red flannel pants and one of Sam T-Shirts that you stole, you softly pad down the hall to the kitchen.

 “You better be hungry Y/N!” Shouts Dean. It’s then that your nose realizes the grand smells pouring out from the kitchen. “Cas did some shopping.”

 “Chinese take out is your favorite, but so are french fries and strawberry milkshakes so…” Cas says sheepishly from the chair he’s perched on. You run over and embrace him in a bear hug.

 “What did I ever do to deserve such amazing people?” You ask. Sam and Dean rush over and hug you from behind.

 After the food had been completely consumed and the boys had cracked open a bottle of whiskey, you sat on the couch with a mug of tea on your knees. Your chest releases a sigh of content.

 “Y/N.” Sam says, looking over at your drooping eyes. “How ‘bout we get you to bed.”

“But I wanna stay up with y’all.” You protest sleepily; like a toddler who doesn’t want to nap.

“Come on now.” Sam lifts you up in his arms and nods goodnight to the others before bringing you to your shared room.

 He places you in the bed, strips to his boxers and pulls on a fresh shirt. You admire him lazily from the pillows before he folds in next to you.

 “Sam.” You say, turning over to face him. “Yes baby?”

“There are two important things you need to know about me, and I think tonight’s a good night to tell you.”

A crinkle forms between his brows as he worriedly grabs your hand.

 Your lips can’t hold back your smile. “I’m sorry man, but I don’t like salad or eye contact.”

 A scoff escapes his lips. “How can you not like salad?” He sits up now, wide awake. You follow suit and run tired hands through your hair.

“Because it’s green and it’s just...I don’t know...gross.”

 “I don’t think we can be together then.” He crosses his arms playfully, glancing to the side.

 You grab his jaw firmly with your hands and plant a reassuring kiss on his warm lips. “Oh come on now, who else is going to let you go on for hours and hours about lore and actually listen?”

“True, but riddle me this. How come you kept eye contact while telling me you hate it?”

 “It’s just this weird thing where whenever I try to explain that I always make steady eye contact. And then they’re like “Well why’d you look me in the eye just know?” etcetera. Just, strange things.”

 Well I think you’re very very tired and should get to bed.” He leans in to kiss you, moving your body back into a horizontal position.

“Good night, Y/N.” He kisses your temple one last time.

“Night salad.”

[sams-fantastic-hair-blog]

A Late Learner

Prompt: “I’d rather be pecked to death by a flock of hummingbirds”

Characters: Sam (mentioned), Dean, Sister!Reader

Word Count: 787

Warnings: Slow driving (it drives me crazy), let me know if you see any

A/N: This is my entry for @kas-not-cas ‘s 2.5K Dialogue Challenge.

Living with the Winchesters wasn’t a walk in the park.  Actually, it was hardly ever a very good thing.  When they got home from hunts they were either crabby, sad, or a tad bit happy.  The latter was very rare.  If a hunt went bad, your brothers thought it would be great to spare you the details and you were left oblivious.  When they were about to go on hunts, they never let you come with.  No matter how much begging you did, they just weren’t having it.  They wouldn’t even tell you what they thought they were hunting, but they did call every night to check in on you.

There were good things about living with them: Dean’s hamburgers, Sam’s help with your college classes, every fun memory Dean teaching you how to drive, you were twenty and driving was never something you needed.  Until the boys saved you, you were a city girl whose apartment was about half a mile from the high school.  You never attended university until you moved in with the guys, instead you stayed home and took care of your mom, who had fallen ill.

You and Dean were sitting on the road in one of the Men of Letters cars (he didn’t trust you with the impala yet).  He drove you guys out there because he wanted to start you off with something easy, driving straight forward.  You were nervous, sweaty, and looking for any way to get out of it.  “Don’t I need to, uh, get my permit?”  You remember all of yours friends being really excited when they got theirs.

“Nah, you’re fine.  There aren’t any cops out here.”  Dean responded.

You took a deep breath and waited a whole five seconds before throwing your hands off the wheel.  “You know, I went four years without needing to do this, and school’s online.  I won’t need to leave the bunker… ever.”

“What if you need to go on a supply run?”  Dean asked knowing all too well that you’ve been complaining about the food he buys for weeks.

“I think I can deal with your crappy food for the rest of my life, at least Sam knows how to shop.”  You answered.  “Now can we please go back to the bunker?”

“Look, kid, this lifestyle is dangerous.  Sam and I could die on a hunt and you’d have to do your own supply runs.  Or maybe the bunker gets attacked and you’ll have to get out fast.”  You hated him for that, you hated him so much for that.

“Fine.”  You said, dragging the word for as long as you could.  “Just remember that I’m only doing this because you’re a paranoid bastard.”

It took ten minutes for you to finally start driving, and, once you started, it was pretty easy.  Dean wasn’t really tense at all, after all you were driving a whole fifteen miles an hour.  You stopped about twenty feet before stop signs and slowly started edging yourself toward them and you put the turn signal on way too early.

He actually wasn’t worried until he saw a cop car.  Now it was pretty clear to anyone that you were just learning and that you were doing a pretty awful job at it, so it wasn’t a huge surprise that the cop followed you guys for a bit.  It wasn’t until you accidentally used the wrong turning signal that he decided to pull you over.

To say you were nervous was an understatement.  You didn’t have your permit, you didn’t have a license, and it was pretty obvious that you were going to die.

The officer saw that as soon as you rolled down the window.  “Good afternoon ma’am.”

“Good afternoon mister officer sir.”  You smiled, hoping that he would go easy on you.

“Did you know that you used the wrong turning signal?”  He asked professionally, which really only scared you a bit more.

You smiled nervously.  “Uh, no, sir, I didn’t.  I’ll, uh, be more careful.  Yes, I’ll be more careful.”  You could just see Dean shaking his head at you.

The officer smiled at you nicely.  “I’m going to let you off with a warning, have a nice day ma’am.”  With that he left.  You rolled up the window and looked at Dean.

“So, I guess you even learned the pull over part of driving.  I’ll drive us home, at your pace, we’ll get there next week.”  You hit him on the shoulder before you switched seats and you were in the much more comfortable and safe passenger seat.  “Maybe we can get you to thirty miles an hour tomorrow.”

“Please, I’d rather be pecked to death by a flock of hummingbirds.”    

[hannahindie]

A Way to Go: Part 1

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean Word Count: 1,192 Warnings: Character death, maybe. It’s up in the air. Also, the idea of Sam being sad. I don’t want to call this angst, but I suppose it is. It’s a confusing feeling, you’ll see why anyway. Just know that it’s probably gonna give you some sad feels, and then you might get some happy ones later. A/N: I wrote this for @kas-not-cas Kas’ 2.5K Follower Writing Challenge, and the dialogue prompt is bolded in the fic below. It was going to be one fic. And then I decided to chop my original idea and leave it where it ends here. And between @trexrambling and @pinknerdpanda who beta’d it (my precious darlings), I have been convinced to make a part 2. This is the first time I’ve written first person reader, and I am really freaking enjoying it, so I hope you do too. lol Like always, the tags are at the bottom, and if you don’t see yourself there or you want to be added, please let me know. Feedback is always welcome. :)

“So… I just realized that I’ve been shot.”

 Well, that was a phrase I never thought I’d utter. I’ve been punched, bitten, clawed, cut, stabbed, and dislocated more times than I can count, but I’ve always avoided getting shot. I’m actually surprised by how painless it is, although this may be what it’s like to be in shock. Do people go into shock that quickly?

 I’m pretty sure that must be it because in all the movies Sam and Dean have made me watch, gut shots were the worst, and right now this definitely doesn’t feel that bad. It’s kind of a warm tingle, like when your foot falls asleep. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. I’m definitely falling, and I’m pretty sure I’m falling forward, but I can’t tell if my arms are moving and obeying the signals my brain is trying to send them or not. It's quite likely I’m about to fall on my face.

My knees are the first thing to hit the ground, so there’s a brief moment of relief because instead of falling forward on my face I’m able to twist my body and fall sideways. At least, I think I did that on purpose. It’s kind of hard to feel anything right now, and I’m not sure if I’ll have control over anything from here going forward. Whatever I landed on is rough, but I can’t remember where I am. Why can't I remember that? Everything is blurry now, and I can see a pair of boots quickly approaching me, the long legs disappearing from my view since I apparently can't look up anymore. Sam. I know it's Sam because I can kind of feel his large hand on my back, and I would have recognized Dean’s bowlegs anywhere.

 I hear a gunshot followed by a mumbled “Son of a bitch!” and I try to laugh. It's less of a laugh and more of a garbled cough, and I can taste something bitter and metallic. Well, shit. I didn't get punched in the mouth, which means that blood is coming from somewhere else, and I'm here to tell you that that is not a good sign. I can feel Sam’s hands as he rolls me over and desperately applies pressure to my stomach.

 “Y/N, come on, it's not that bad. You're gonna be fine. Hang in there, okay?” I blink a couple times, and Sam’s face comes into focus. Oh, Sam. If I'm going to have to die, if I'm going out like this, I have to admit that looking into those kaleidoscope eyes is a hell of a way to go. I can feel my eyebrows furrow, and Sam is looking at me concerned. “Y/N?” The urge to laugh is strong because I know he’s probably thinking I'm having some sort of end of life, important inner dialogue. What I'm actually debating is what color his eyes are today, and I have decided they’re more of a green than blue, with a golden ring around the pupil. Actually, they kind of remind me of sunflowers. Sam Winchester, the boy with the sunflower eyes. I laugh again, and this time I can feel the blood spatter across my face as I exhale a mouthful of that metallic liquid. Well, that’s great. Why is it the only thing I can think about is how unladylike that must have looked? Priorities, Y/N.

 Sam looks sad. He can’t tell that I’m laughing; at this point it just sounds like I’m drowning in my own blood. Let’s be honest, that’s probably what is happening. None of this hurts, and what I can feel is coming and going in waves. I’ve never been this close to death before so I couldn’t tell you if this is the order in which things start to fail, but I’m assuming nothing good comes after this. The only thing that bothers me about this whole situation is that Sam is going to be sad. Not to say Dean won’t be. He’ll blame himself and drink and probably yell at Sam about how “fine” he is and how he “doesn’t need to talk about it”. That’s how Dean deals with things. He’ll be angry, and if he doesn’t get the thing that did this to me right now, he’ll be on a rampage until he does. But Sam...Sam is going to be sad. He’ll want to talk about it, but since Dean won’t, he’ll keep it inside since I’m the only other person he talks to about things. He’ll read, a lot. He might hide in his room and drink, because he’s not as obvious about it as Dean is, and he’ll blame himself just like Dean does. He’s just quieter about it.

I’m getting tired. It’s hard to keep my eyes open, and when they start to slip shut, I feel Sam’s hand on my cheek. I can’t feel much of anything at this point, but somehow I can feel his rough palm as he cups my face and moves the hair from my forehead. I can mostly feel the warmth because this man is like a damn heater, and it’s at this moment that I realize that there’s another thing that bothers me about this. I never got the chance to tell him how I feel about him. It seems silly now, ridiculous even at the end of all things, but I would have really liked to let him know. I wouldn't have expected anything, hunters can't with this kind of life, but he deserved to know he was worth it. If I'm checking out, I might as well try to tell him. Nothing to lose, right?

 “Sam…” Did I say that out loud? Judging by the look on Sam’s face, I must have. Okay, here we go. “I love you.”

Sam’s eyebrows jump up in an almost comical fashion, but I'm beyond laughing now. This is serious business, and for once I have to keep myself together. “What?” His voice is barely a whisper.

“I...I love you.” I've got to keep my eyes open a little longer. Who knew dying could be so hard? Or exhausting?

“Y/N, I-” Dean decides now would be a good time to interrupt our little dying declaration moment, which I guess is fine. I said my piece, but Sam looks a little put out.

 “Hey, you keep those eyes open. Cas will be here soon, we’ll get you fixed up, right as rain.” I attempt to give Dean a smile, but I think it comes off more like a grimace, and I am pretty sure the blood is making it look like a horror show. No one tells you how unflattering death is. Movies are such bullshit. I shift my gaze from Dean back to Sam. I want to tell him I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have dumped that last confession on him, but it's too late now. I'm cold, and my eyes are heavy. I think this is it. I can feel my eyes slipping shut, so I look straight into those sunflower eyes. What a way to go.

Continue to Part 2 HERE

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda  @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @@jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @deanssweetheart23  @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby

[seengularity]

The Dream

Pairing: Dean x reader

Summary: Weird dreams happen to everyone so it isn’t very uncommon that you had one as well.

Word Count: 1,286

Warnings: some fluff

A/N: this is my first challenge ever! I wrote this for @kas-not-cas Kas’ 2.5K Dialogue Prompt Challenge. I was actually happy with the way this one turned out. The prompt is highlighted in bold within the story.

  There you were, in the middle of the forest, the moon being the only light you had. It smelled of wet trees and dirt and you were running, but you couldn’t remember what you were running from. Your breathing was harsh and you felt like one of your lungs might collapse. Whatever it was, your mind kept telling you to run.

You’ve never seen this forest before but somehow you knew your way around it. “I’m almost there”, you thought to yourself. But exactly where is there?

You continued running, realizing now that you were barefoot because of all the twigs and rocks digging into your skin as you ran across the dirt. The same words kept running through your mind.

I’m almost there.

I’m almost there.

And suddenly, you were there. The forest ended and you reached a two way road. The moon was no longer in the sky but now the sun was radiating it’s heat onto you. This is where you were trying to get to. You stopped running and began walking down the road. Once again, you somehow knew which way to go. No more than five minutes later, lights began appearing down the road indicating that the city was down that way.

You began to run again.

You reached the city and so many people were out and walking about in the streets. You turned around and seen a banner across the road saying “New Orleans Mardi Gras February 13th”.

“New Orleans!?” You yelled to yourself, causing a few people to stare at you.

A great crowd of people were walking down the street but you began walking the opposite way.

“Can you help me?” You asked, but what did you need help with?

Everything was so confusing to you but at the same time, everything made sense and you continued to move.

You continued walking and a man ran up to your face.

“MARDI GRAS! WOO!” He yelled. He had his face painted red and was wearing a blue afro wig. Not to mention he was wearing no other clothing other than blue crocs and his boxer underwear.

You backed up, the man continuing to yell in your face. You put your face in your hands and continued to back up until something made you trip in your step. You swung your arms around to try to catch your balance, but you fell. But you didn’t fall on concrete.

Instead, you fell on top of a bed. The sheets covered your body and the smell was familiar, but you couldn’t pin point exactly where the smell was from.

You looked around, a room you’ve never seen before. You sat up and slowly lifted the bed sheets off of your body and noticed a big diamond ring on your left hand. You sat back and brought your hand up closer to your face, and examined the beautiful ring.

“It’s almost as beautiful as you are.” A deep voice said from the side of the room. You looked away from your hand and toward the voice to see Dean walking out of the bathroom with a towel barely hanging around his hips.

You didn’t respond and he just laughed. “Almost.” He smiled and winked at you and walked around the bed and into a walk in closet.

This day was becoming more weird every second. You got up and quickly walked to the bathroom. You accidently slammed the door behind you and you made sure to lock the door. There was a window across the bathroom, next to the toilet, and you stepped on the seat to take a look outside. Day turned to night, and everything suddenly seemed so unreal.

You closed your eyes and took a deep inhale, slowly exhaling to calm yourself. When you opened your eyes, you caught a glance of the way you looked in the mirror.

You gasped at the sight. It was you, but then it wasn’t. You looked physically fit and amazingly healthy. Your skin looked as if it had been sun kissed and your hair was so beautiful. You ran your fingers through your hair, and the softness made everything seem real.

You heard footsteps outside the bathroom door and decided to step out. You opened the door and peeked out, seeing Dean fixing the bed.

You walked slowly on the balls of your feet, worried that if you did some weird move, you’ll end up somewhere else across the country.

“Hey Y/N, are you okay?” Dean asked, his words drenched in worry.

You nodded your head. “I think so.” You continued to look around the big bedroom, admiring the walls that were filled with pictures and paintings and looking at the great chandelier hanging above the bed. “Are we married?”

Dean laughed and walked up to you. He grabbed you and brought you into his arms and ran his fingers through your soft hair. “Yes. Have been for three years now. You sure you’re feeling alright?”

You stepped back, out of Dean’s arms, and shook your head ‘no’.

“Okay, you need some rest. You had a long and hard day today.”

Dean grabbed your hand and helped you get back in bed. He lifted up the bed sheets and when you got in, he tucked the sheets right under your body, making you feel secure.

He gently kissed your head and walked away to the other side of the bed. He got under the sheets with you and turned to shut the bed lamp off. The bedroom turned dark, except for the bright moon that was shining into the bedroom.

“Come here.” Dean said.

You quickly moved towards him, excited to cuddle with him. He turned you away from him and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He smelled like soap and aftershave, a smell that you always thought was a great combination on him.

You felt him snuggle into your hair and heard him take a deep breath.

“I love you.” He said and he slowly drifted off to sleep.

“And then we went to sleep and I woke up! It was honestly the weirdest dream I’ve ever had.” You tried to tell Dean your dream to the best of your abilities. It was one of those dreams where it was really difficult to explain every detail.

About a month ago you promised yourself you wouldn’t eat late at night, because that is what gives you the weird dreams. But last night you made some bomb dinner for yourself, Dean and Sam, and you just had to have seconds.

Dean suddenly said, louder than usual, “Oh my God, I had the exact same dream!”

“Really?” You asked. You thought it was unusual for you and Dean to have the same dream.

“Are you crazy? Of course I didn’t.”

You shoved Dean to the side and rolled your eyes at him. He’s always messing with you and he used to make fun of all the weird dreams you used to have.

“Although, I did like that last part of your dream.” He winked at you.

You blushed as he winked. He knew the way he made you feel, but yet he loved to give you those butterflies in your stomach and he loved to see your pale cheeks turn pink from embarrassment.

“Quit flirting and start researching!” Sam said from across the table that the three of you were sitting at.

You and Dean quickly averted your gazes to the books you both were reading and all Sam did was laugh, because he knew more than you and Dean. He stands on the sidelines and can see how much Dean really loves you. He can see how much you really love Dean. The only thing Sam can do is wait and see how long it takes before the two of you find out.

Forever tags: @senselesssamii

[flufy07]

The Party

Wordcount: 1515

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam winchester (mentioned), Jo (mentioned), Charlie (mentioned) Jack (OC)

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff High school AU

Trigger Warning!!! sexual assault

AN: Beitrag zu @kas-not-cas 2.5K dialogue Challenge

You were on your way home, tear streaks drying on your cheeks. You really regretted going to this party even though your friends had meant good. You were in your last year of High school but your boyfriend Dean had already finished school two years ago. You had met through his little brother who was in some of you classes and became a good friend. And one Evening after you had stayed especially long at the Winchesters household he had offered to drive you home. Sparks flew and you had dated ever since. You two had been happy until a few days back you had met his ex-girlfriend Lisa who had made it obviously clear that she wanted Dean back. And while you trusted Dean that he wouldn´t actually cheat on you he had met with Lisa a few times. Your self-doubts and the fact that Lisa was beautiful hadn´t really helped the case so you and Dean had gotten into an argument. You hadn´t talked since he had stormed of and you were afraid he would break up with you. That was why Charlie and Jo your two best friends’ hat dragged you to a party at Bela’s place tonight. Which had ultimately led to this moment.

There he was sitting on your front porch looking at his phone like it was the most normal thing in the world. You had been so lost in your thoughts you hadn´t even noticed the Impala parking in front of your house. You quickly wiped your face.

“Dean, what are you doing here?”

He quickly got up.

“(Y/N), where were you? I mean uhm I wanted to talk to you and you weren´t home so I got a little worried.”

Dread filled your stomach as you looked down to the ground. He wanted to talk to you? Was he going back to Lisa? Would he break up with you? You weren´t sure if you were able to take that tonight but you had to face the reality on way or the other.

“Sure, we can talk. Want to come in?” You asked as you walked past him already searching your purse for your keys.

You couldn´t help but flinch a little when he reached out to put a hand on your shoulder and you couldn´t stand the look of hurt in his eyes when you did so. “Yeah, I was hoping that we could take this inside.” He finally replied. You nodded as you finally found your keys and opened the front door. Dean went straight for the living room while you discarded your jacket. Looking into the mirror you could see the angry red marks on your arms and were quickly searching for a way to cover them but it was already too late when he came back into the hall.

“Hey, sweetheart…” he didn´t finish whatever he was going to say as he took in your appearance.

“What the hell happened to you?” He asked.

“Dean, it´s nothing, please, just…”

“This doesn´t look like nothing”, he interrupted his gaze softening just a little bit as he noticed your discomfort, “Come on at least let me take a look at you to make sure you aren´t hurt?”

You let him lead you into the living room where he sat you down on the couch. As you set down the skirt of your dress went up a little bit exposing your knees. Even you hadn´t noticed that they were bleeding. Dean pinched the bridge of his knows trying to calm himself as he sat down on the coffee table in front of you.

“(Y/N), you have blood on your knees. No one goes nowhere and gets blood on their knees.” He reached out to you taking your hands in his much larger ones.

“Please talk to me, sweetheart.”

And as if a dam had broken you allowed yourself to cry as you told Dean what had happened.

You had been feeling pretty low after your fight with Dean so Charlie and Jo had decided to take you to this party to take of your mind of the fight. And in the beginning it had actually worked the first hour or so you had danced and laughed and hat a lot of fun but after some time you needed a little break. So you had left the dancefloor and had gone to the kitchen to grab a beer when you almost ran into Jack. He was one of those party guests who went to the local college he had graduated the same year as Dean. You knew him because he and Dean had both played on the football team of your High school.

“Ah, if this isn´t (Y/N). Are you all alone here? I didn´t see Dean. Or did you to break up?”

“Uhm, hi Jack, no Dean and I are still together. But it´s nice to see you. I´ll just go back to the party, okay?”

You turned around, your beer already forgotten as you all but ran for the dancefloor trying to find Jo and Charlie. You couldn´t quite put your finger on it why at the moment, but the way, Jack had looked at you had made you feel uneasy. You had almost forgotten about the meeting in the kitchen afterwards as you talked to classmates, danced with some friends and finally got your beer you had forgotten in the kitchen. That was until later that evening you had to use the bathroom.

Unfortunately the bathroom downstairs was occupied and from the sound of it, it would stay that way for a while but you knew there was another one upstairs. You had almost reached the top floor of the house when you were shoved down, hitting the steps hard. Before you could do anything, you were rolled onto your back and pinned down by no other than Jack.

“What the hell, Jack?” you exclaimed as you tried to get him off of you bur he wouldn´t move one bit. 

He held your wrists above your head while the other one started to roam your body. When he opened his mouth you felled almost nauseous by the strong smell of alcohol coming off of him.

“(Y/N), you have no idea how long I´ve been waiting for this opportunity.” He slurred as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “You only had eyes for Dean, always Dean. Do you know how fucking frustrating that is?”

You tried to stay calm, weighting your options. Would someone here you if you screamed? Would anybody care to help you?

“Come on Jack, let me go, you are drunk.”

“I don´t fucking care.” He whispered as his hand found his way underneath your dress, slowly creeping closer to your hip. That was the last straw.

“Jack, no let me go. NOW!”

You somehow managed to get one of your legs between the two of you and kneed him into the groin. He groaned in pain and you managed to slip out from under him running for the front door. Some people were shooting you confused looks but you didn´t care as you ran onto the street and started your way home.

During your story Dean had moved beside you and had enveloped you in a hug as you were now crying freely into his flannel. He was rubbing smoothing circles on your back.

“That bastard, I´m going to kill him.” He growled when you had finally calmed down a little bit.

You said nothing as you basically clung to him, his warmth and strength surrounding you like a blanket.

“Come on let´s get your knees patched up.” He whispered gently as he dropped a kiss on the top of your head.

And despite of what had happened you trusted Dean so you let him take care of you knowing exactly that he probably needed the distraction just as much as you did. So while you took a shower he made some hot chocolate with marshmallows for you which you accepted gratefully.

“So,” you began after you had once again settled down in the living room, you were only wearing on of Deans Flannels and Boxers he had left at your house,

“what was it, you wanted to talk to me about?”

He fidgeted in his seat.

“Well after our fight I met Lisa.” he began.

“Well hear it comes.” you thought, preparing yourself for the impending heartbreak.

“And it made me realize that I was stupid. You were right about her, I´m sorry.” You looked up from where you had rested your hands in your lap.

“Oh come on, (Y/N/N), you didn´t really think I was going to leave you, did you?” You wanted to look away but he gently took your face in his hands and rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you (Y/N) and nothing will ever change that.”

“I love you too, Dean.” You whispered.

And that night when you were lying in Deans arms in your bed you felt as if nothing could ever harm you as long as you had Dean by your side.

[winchestergirl-13]

Sabriel “You’re Back?!” Kas’ Dialogue Challenge

Word Count: 1,377

Pairing: Sam x Gabriel

Warning: fluff, maybe angst?

Prompt: “Hold on, you died.” “Yeah, well it didn’t stick.”

A/N: I was stuck for an idea for this for weeks and literally wrote this out in ten minutes or so. So I tries. I never wrote for a ship before so please bare with me. I hope you all like it.

* * * *

Seven years. It had been seven years since that fateful day. April 22, 2010 was the day Gabriel faced off against Lucifer to save the Winchesters and Kali- and sadly lost. Throughout the years, Sam has tried to forget about Gabriel, the feelings he had for him, and just try to move on. But he couldn’t. Everywhere he looked, everything he saw, reminded him of the golden-eyed Archangel. When him and Dean met God, well Chuck, he had some hopes of Gabriel returning. But Chuck said he couldn’t do so, effectively crushing any hope Sam had of seeing Gabriel again. But he had misheard Chuck apparently.

Sam was sitting in the library doing some searching for any possible cases while Dean was out on a supply run. Just a normal day. Until he heard what sounded like music coming from somewhere inside the Bunker.

“Dean?” he called out. No response. “Maybe he didn’t hear me.”

Sam got up and followed the music, gun in hand. The music slowly got louder with each turn he made through the Bunker’s halls, the words becoming a little clearer.

“This thing called love I just can’t handle it

this thing called love I must get round to it

I ain’t ready

Crazy little thing called love”

“Dean??” Sam called out once again, sounding very unnerved at the lack of answers. He found his way to his bedroom, the music sounding the strongest. Gun raised, Sam took a hold of the doorknob and slowly turned the knob, pushing his door open quietly. Stepping inside, what he saw was shocking to say the least. Balloons, streamers, and a “Surprise!” banner hanging above his bed greeted him as he looked around his room. A disco ball lazily spinning above his head as the speakers on his dresser continued playing “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” by Queen.

“What the hell?” he muttered as he lowered his gun slightly.

“Hiya Samsquatch! Miss me?”

Sam jumped in surprise, but froze. “It can’t be!” He slowly turned around, gun raising, only to lower it when he saw those same golden eyes staring back at him. A bouquet of red roses in his hand and a sad smirk on his face, Gabriel stared up at Sam, who was currently making an apt impression of a fish.

“Speechless Sammy? I’m touched. Guess it’s safe to say you missed me, too?” Gabriel joked slightly, eyebrow raising at Sam’s lack of reply. “Sam?”

Shaking his head, Sam stepped back, running into his bed and tumbled rather ungracefully onto it. Sitting upright, he noticed that Gabriel stood in the same spot, a frown forming on his face, yet his eyes held worry. “You okay, Kiddo? I thought for sure you’d be happy to see me,” he stated as he placed the flowers on the dresser and stood in front of Sam.

“Gabriel? You’re really here?” Sam asked, reaching a hand up slowly, but pulling away before he could touch Gabriel’s face. But his hand was caught before he pulled away.

Intertwining their hands, Gabriel brought his left hand up and slowly carded it through Sam’s hair. “Yeah, I’m really here.”

Sam sighed, closing his eyes at the feeling of his hands running through his hair, but pulled back abruptly, eyes flying open. Gabriel stopped his ministrations but still held onto his hand.

“Hold on, you died.” Sam’s voice wavered slightly, tears gathering in his eyes but not falling.

“Yeah, well it didn’t stick,” Gabriel smirked, but wiped it off his face when he saw the look of grief and anger flash across Sam’s eyes.

“But, but I saw your wings burned on the ground. You were dead. Chuck…God…he said he couldn’t bring you back.” Sam looked away, brushing at the stray tears that fell, only to drop his hand when Gabriel’s gently took a hold of his chin and turned his head. He could see the sadness in those whiskey eyes, but there was another emotion…love.

“I was dead. Dad brought me back. After you and Dean got him and Aunt Amara back together, he pieced me back together and brought Raph, Mike and Luci home to work on being a family again. But that’s a different story,” Gabriel sighed before running his hand through Sam’s hair again, his other thumb rubbing circles on the back of Sam’s hand, both still intertwined, “the point is is that Dad thought it would be a good idea for me to come back. To be here for you. He brought Mary back, yes, but it wasn’t enough. You needed me, too. But I guess I was wrong.” He looked down, a crestfallen look on his face.

The music had long since stopped, his hand falling from Sam’s hair. He tried to pull their hands apart, only for Sam’s to grip his tighter, preventing him from pulling away. Gabriel looked up with hopeful eyes and met Sam’s hazel eyes, full of love. Cocking his head to the side, Sam gave a small laugh and leaned forward, foreheads touching.

“You’re not wrong. I do need you. You have no idea how much I missed you,” tears falling still but neither cared at the moment. Gabriel is alive, he’s here, and that’s all that matters. Gabriel gave a small grin, lifting his head enough to place a small kiss on Sam’s forehead.

“I missed you, too, Sam,” he laid his chin on Sam’s head as he felt himself get pulled forward into a tight hug, full of love. Sam buried his head in Gabriel’s chest, content to just stay in this position for as long as he could, part of him still thinking this was a dream. But the feeling of fingers in his hair, the warmth the smaller body gave off, told him it wasn’t a dream. It was real. Gabriel was really here.

Sam pulled away slowly, Gabriel pulling back with a look of uncertainty on his face. Grabbing a hold of his arms, Sam maneuvered Gabriel until he was sitting on his lap facing him.

“Sam?” Eye brows pinched in confusion, head tilting to the left slightly, and all Sam wanted to do was kiss the Archangel in front of him.

“Gabe…if I’m reading this all wrong, tell me, but…” he sighed, rubbing his hands up and down Gabriel’s arms.

“But…?” Gabriel tilted his head down, trying to catch Sam’s eyes.

“I think…no…I love you, Gabriel. I have for a long time now. If you don’t feel the same, I underst- Sam shut up” Gabriel interrupted, bringing those lovely hazel eyes back up to meet his. He gave a grin a mile wide and replied, “Took ya long enough.”

Sam laughed softly before bringing Gabriel back in for another hug. Gabriel whispered into his ear, “I love you too, Sam. Always have.” They stayed in that position for a bit before leaning away from each other. Hazel and whiskey eyes flicked down at the same time at each others lips before meeting again. Gabriel licked his lips slightly as Sam cupped his cheek.

“C-Can I kiss you? Please?” he whispered uncertainly.

Chuckling softly, Gabriel replied, “Thought you’d never ask.”

With a soft smile, they slowly leaned forward, meeting in the middle for a kiss that was soft yet full of love. A kiss that said everything they wanted to say, but could wait for later. They were together now and that’s all that matters. Pulling away, the couple shared a loving smile as they moved to lay down together on Sam’s bed, Gabriel fitting perfectly in his arms. They lay there for a while, just talking, sharing kisses here and there, and just enjoying being in each other’s company after so long apart. And when Dean gets back and finds them like that, Gabriel alive and kicking, well he had some choice words to say, a few threats, but relenting when he saw just how much happier Sam was now that Gabriel was back. Dean turned to leave to prepare some dinner and left with one last thing to say.

“You hurt him again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Don’t worry Dean-o. I don’t plan on leaving Sam anytime soon. I promise.”

And with that, Dean left the happy couple to themselves. Everything turned out right in the end.

[noidea-headempty]

Bringing Up the Past (Part 2)

A/N: Part two kind of took on a mind of its own… Part two is a part of Kas’ 2.5K Follower Writing Challenge! Congratulations on 2.5k @@kas-not-cas​ !! The prompt I chose was “ I am way too sober for this.” I was planning on releasing it earlier, but the I remembered that Angst Appreciation Day was coming up so I decided to wait until then. So... Happy Angst Appreciation Day everyone!

 Honestly, this is one of the most descriptive and emotional things I’ve ever written. Though I suck at writing romantic stuff and comforting people, but I’m trying to improve.  Also if I left something out in the warnings, please send me an ask so I can add it. Now, onto the apologies :P. Sorry for anything I got wrong. Sorry if Sam is too OOC. Sorry if I dragged on with the reader and that the reader’s past is longer than Sam’s. Sorry that I went into so much detail. And like before I’m sorry in general :P Don’t like, don’t read.

IN ALL SERIOUSNESS, I GET PRETTY DEPRESSING IN THIS PART. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. GUYS PLEASE IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE WARNINGS, EITHER SKIP TO THE END WITH THE FLUFF OR DON’T READ IT AT ALL. I HONESTLY PREFER IF YOU DON’T READ IT ALL IF SO. IT’S COMPLETELY FINE WITH ME. I MIGHT BE GOING OVERBOARD WITH ALL THE WARNINGS AND STUFF, BUT SERIOUSLY I DON’T CARE I WANT TO MAKE SURE. Sorry if you’re being annoyed with all the stuff and stuff. Your mental health is important. You are important. The U.S. suicide hotline is 1-800-273-8255. And if you ever need to talk to someone, you can talk to me or go on this website https://www.imalive.org/ . You got this. Remember to always keep fighting. Love y’all.

Summary: After running from Sam, you think about your past. Sam confronts you again and you decide that it’s your turn to talk. Now it’s Sam’s turn to comfort you.

Ship: Sam x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, kinda graphic talk of depression, graphic talks of self-harm, suicide and attempted suicide, death (not the reader), self-hatred, graphic details of self-harm, description of self-harm scars, really negative thoughts, un-betaed, possible OOCness of characters, swearing, and (poor attempt at) fluff

Words: 5,710

Part 1

Tears blurred your vision as you ran past Sam. You wanted to go to your room, but you knew that Sam was more likely to check there first. So you knew that there were several other places you could go, but Dean was in the war room. If you wanted to go to some of your spots, you had to bypass Dean first. Hopefully, he was too busy trying to find anything on the Darkness or Cas to pay attention.

As you got closer to the war room, you wiped your eyes and slowed down. Peeking around the corner, you saw Dean engrossed on whatever he was doing. You slowly walked past Dean and prayed to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t really notice you.

“So you finally decided to leave the kitchen huh?” Well, fuck. Of course he noticed. Taking a quick glance at him, you saw that his eyes looked up from the laptop to look at you. You nodded, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your red eyes.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, just gonna walk around the bunker for awhile. Explore it some more. There might still be some rooms that haven’t been explored, y’know?”  

“Uh huh, you sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

And with that, you kept walking. Finally, you reached the electrical room. You were pretty sure that out of all of your spots in the bunker, this place was the last on Sam’s list. Hell, you didn’t even know if either of them knew you hung out in here sometimes. Opening and closing the door behind you, you thanked God that Dean had fixed the door after he destroyed it. Walking to the back of one of the machines, you grabbed the things you kept hidden: a bottle of whiskey and a lighter. Usually, whenever you were on a hunt, the lighter would be in your pocket; any other time, the lighter was here.

After the Demon Dean incident, Sam and Dean didn’t really come into this room, but you did. It was kind of comforting to be in here. You didn’t know why, but it was. So it became one of your favourite spots to be at. Especially if you didn’t really want either of the guys to bother you. Walking back to the door, you put your back to the door and sank to the floor. You stared at the bottle of whiskey in your hand; wondering if you should drink, but you had been drinking a couple beers while you had been making the pie. You set the whiskey down and lifted your hand to look at the lighter. Snick. You stared at the flame that flickered to life before releasing your thumb, watching as the flame disappeared.

Thoughts swirled in your mind. The kind of thoughts that made you not want to do anything or get out of bed, for fear of more of those kind of thoughts. Most of the time, you were kept distracted by your job as a hunter (or anything really) to focus on such thoughts anymore or you tuned them out. But after this hunt, you couldn’t really ignore them. So you did the next best thing: you baked and baked and baked. Until Sam came and brought it up. You had hoped that he was too distracted to catch your little slip up, but to no avail. You had nothing to distract you now from the thoughts that had been growing louder and louder since Madilyn.

You stared at the lighter in your hands as they whispered, It’s your fault. You could have saved her and her family. You should have been better. You should have been smarter. You failed. Just like you failed to save him all those years ago. You’re a failure. You don’t deserve to live after what you did. You should have done better. You hit your head with your hands. No no no no. You are not gonna listen to what they say. It isn’t true. I tried. I tried with everything I had you thought to yourself convincingly.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice someone lightly knocking on the door. It was only when they started pounding that you realized. They found you.

“Go away!” you shouted.

“Y/N, I just want to talk.”

Oh, so it seems like Sam did know this hiding spot. You turned your head to look at the door. You didn’t want to talk to Sam right now. You really don’t. But knowing him, he’ll just bring it up again later. However, this is something you never wanted to talk about. No matter how many years had passed since the events, you never wanted to talk about them.

“Y/N, please.”

“No! Just leave me alone,” you said frustratingly. You heard Sam sigh through the wood before walking away. You waited for a few minutes before getting up and opening the door. No one was there. You closed the door again and sank to the floor, you’ll come out of the room later. Snick. The flame flickered to life again as you tried to think of anything to distract yourself from the thoughts and memories of the past.

A Week Later…

You slowly came back to consciousness after taking a brief nap, when you felt someone watching you. Grabbing your gun from your bedside table, you pointed it at the the person, to find Sam sitting on the chair by your desk. Shit, you forgot to lock your door. Putting the gun back on the bedside table, you decided to try for humour.

“Really, Sam? Watching someone while they sleep? That’s creepy, even for you,” you joked. Sam still had a serious look on his face. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Getting up, you walked to the kitchen, rambling as you went.

“Y/N, you’ve been avoiding me for the past week, you’re sleeping in your room again which you haven’t done since we started dating, please can we just talk about it?” Sam pleaded as he followed you.

“So how long did I sleep? Dean back yet from the bar? Think he brought any food home? I’m starving. Are there still some leftovers in the fridge?” you continued walking as you avoided answering. Reaching the kitchen, you opened the fridge to find leftovers and two six-packs of beer.

“Y/N, we need to talk about-”

“There’s nothing to talk about!” you screamed as you slammed the fridge door shut with a loud thud. You turned to face Sam, chest heaving. He looked a little surprised at your scream, but didn’t move from his position in front of the doorway.

“There is nothing to talk about,” you said, your breath getting heavy. Some memories were coming back and so were the thoughts. You hugged yourself, looking down at the floor, as more thoughts and more memories flooded your brain. Your eyes started to well up with tears.

“There is nothing to talk about,” you repeated. Tears started to fall, as Sam slowly approached you. Your breathing got even heavier as more tears started to fall. Your chest rose and fell quickly as you tried to control your breathing and stop yourself from sobbing. You tried to wipe the tears from your eyes, but more kept coming. Sam cautiously wrapped his arms around you. You didn’t try to break from his grip and you stayed in that position for a few minutes until you gave up on trying to calm down. Tears kept falling as you started to sob, releasing over a week of pent up emotions. Sam’s arms tightened his grasp on you as you kept sobbing.

After what felt like an eternity, you stopped crying and began to calm down. Sam slowly released you from his arms and you moved to sit down at the table. He moved to sit down across from you as you gathered your thoughts. Tugging at your hoodie sleeves, you thought about what to say, but he spoke first.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed the issue. If you don’t want to talk about it, then I’ll wait ‘til you are ready to talk about. If you want to talk about it.” You don’t want to talk about it. Ever. However, you looked at him, remembering when he trusted you to talk to you about Madison and his issues. If Sam can talk about his past with you, then maybe you can talk about your past with him.

“No it’s fine, I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did. I think… I think I want to talk about it,” you said softly.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked, surprised.

“Yeah… I’m sure,” you said a little louder. You paused, not sure where to begin. Sam waited patiently as you decided where to begin. You didn’t talk about your past and your family often, mostly because it brought up some painful memories. You told the Winchesters that your parents were former hunters and that you had three siblings. You told them that out of the three, only two were still alive. You told them that your parents raised you to know about the supernatural, but didn’t take you on hunts unless you really wanted to. You told them that your parents taught all of you to shoot a gun and defend yourselves. And that was about it.

“I guess I should start from when I was little. I already told you that I was the youngest of four kids, but I never really talked about what it was like, even though you’re the youngest too. It was… a little difficult. Having to constantly prove myself to my parents and trying to surpass my siblings. Marc was a sports star, Alli was a genius, Brian was a prodigy, and I was… nothing special. I tried out for sports but I wasn’t very good at them. Studied hard in school, but only got As and Bs unlike my sister. Brian tried to help me with painting and tried to get me to play an instrument, but I never got as good as he did. I was closer to him than I was with Marc and Alli. He was my favourite,” you confided.

“Why did you say you were nothing special? You are definitely someone special,” Sam frowned at you. You looked disbelievingly at him.

“You’re great at baking and you’re a great hunter. Plenty special to me,” he grinned. You gave him a small smile back.

“Not to my parents. I mean they loved me and all, but they pushed me to be like my siblings and when I couldn’t be, they were disappointed in me.. Though they never really showed it in front of me, I knew. Brian was there when I would cry about it. He was the best big brother; with no offense to Marc because he was great too, but Brian was always there for me. And I tried to be there for him…” you trailed off. You opened your mouth to continue and closed it again. Sam looked concernedly at you, before you stood up from the table and walked to the fridge.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked. You opened up the fridge and grabbed the six-packs. Kicking the fridge closed, you walked back to the table, and set the packs down.

“I am way too sober for this,” you replied, sitting down again and grabbing a beer. You grabbed another one and offered it to Sam, who took it. You both opened your bottles and as Sam took a sip, you took a big gulp. Sam stared at you as you finished that bottle and the second bottle.

“This isn’t enough. I’ll be back,” you called, before going to get your bottle of whiskey from the electrical room. You grabbed it and walked back to the kitchen. When you got back, Sam was still sitting where you left him, sipping his beer.

Sitting back down, you opened the bottle of whiskey and took a long sip of it, feeling the burn in your throat. Setting the bottle down, you stared at it for a second before continuing.

“I tried to be there for him. I tried. I was 11 and he was 13 when I noticed that his playing and his paintings got a little sadder. I asked him about it and he just said that he was just a little sad and that it would pass over soon enough. But it didn’t, they just got sadder and sadder. I tried to cheer him up in every way I knew how, I tried talking to our parents about it, but they said that it was just him being a teenager and that it would pass. I tried talking to Marc and Alli but they were too busy with their stuff to really pay attention. I tried to get him to talk to me but he just shut himself off. I tried everything, but he just shut me out,” you sniffed, your eyes misting again. Taking another long sip of the whiskey, you calmed yourself.

“At some point, he wouldn’t let me into his room, which never happened. Ever. I was the only person he allowed in no matter what. But then one day, I asked if I could come in and he said no. I kept trying to help him and I kept trying to be there for him. But two days from his 15th birthday…” you choked. Tears started to blur your vision again as you wiped them away with your sleeve. Sam looked at you with sad eyes, but you didn’t look back.

“He was taking a bath and I was gonna go next right? He was taking too long so I knocked on the door, but he didn’t answer. I knocked again, but he still didn’t answer. At this point, I was worried because if he was asleep, then he would’ve woken up by now. But I couldn’t get in because the door was locked. So I grabbed a bobby pin from my room and picked the lock. When I opened the door… God, Sam. There was so much red. The bathtub was practically filled to the brim with red. B-Brian was completely submerged in the red and I-I screamed and just collapsed next to him. I pulled him from the water and I tried to take his pulse but I saw his arms and there were cuts everywhere. But there were two cuts on each of his wrists that were long and vertical and new. I kinda knew what happened but I didn’t care, so I still tried to do CPR like my parents taught me. But I was shaking so much and there was so much red-” you sobbed, burying your head into your hands. Sam stood up from the chair and walked over to your side of the table to bury you in his arms. You moved to drink more of the whiskey.

“You don’t have to tell me the rest, if it’s too hard for you to talk about it. You don’t have to tell me the rest. I’m grateful that you told me at all. Thank you,” Sam murmured in your ear. You sniffed and shook your head.

“No I want to tell you,” you said determinedly.

“But-”

“No, Sam. You told me about what happened to Madison, you told me about what you feel. It’s only right that I tell you the same. Unless you don’t want me to keep going,” you paused.

“No, I want you to keep going. But I’m worried, are you sure you’re okay enough to talk about this?” he questioned. You nodded firmly and continued, wiping away the tears.

“A minute after I screamed and started to do CPR, my parents and my siblings ran upstairs. They saw me and Brian. And they were horrified. Dad tried to pull me away from Brian while Mom called 911. But I didn’t let go, I kept screaming that I had to do something, I had to save him. Alli and Marc were in shock, I think. I don’t remember much of what happened after Dad pulled me away. I don’t really remember what happened a week after too. I just remember a little bit of the funeral. I remember looking into his coffin, it was an open one.. He was wearing a leather jacket, so I didn’t see his arms. After the funeral, later that night, my parents, siblings, and I went to the cemetery. Dug up his coffin and salted and burned him. He deserved to be in peace and not come back as a ghost, or at least that was what my mom said,” you recalled, some tears still making their way down your face.

“I don’t remember anything else,” you took another sip as you felt the whiskey slowly coming into effect. It was getting slightly easier to talk now.

“Maybe you were in shock? Or maybe your mind couldn’t really deal with the trauma so it blanked almost everything out?” Sam suggested.

“I don’t know and I don’t really care.” you shrugged.

“After a couple of months, everyone thought I got my shit together. I was hanging out with friends again, my grades were up, and I looked happy and fine,” you sipped and your shoulders lost some of the tension that was in them. You were getting drunker, you could feel it. You didn’t care, anything to get you through remembering some of the worst years in your life.

“But you weren’t fine,” Sam stated.

“I wasn’t fine,” you confirmed, “I was still a mess. But I didn’t want my family and friends to worry about me any longer than they already were, so I pretended to be fine. Kept my grades up so they wouldn’t be suspicious. Hung out with friends and put on a smile to keep them from worrying. Every now and then, I would let slip something that indicated I wasn’t fine, but they chalked it up to me still mourning. After all, I was closer to him than anyone else. But no one ever pressed or asked if I wanted to talk about it.”

“I was tempted more than once to go to a crossroads and make a deal, but I knew Brian would be mad at me and would probably never forgive me for it,” Sam tensed at the thought of you making a deal, before relaxing.

“How come no one talked to you about it? I mean, you were the first one to see him,” he shook his head, “I’d think that would call for some therapy or at least some talks with someone.”

“My friends thought I was talking to my family about it. My parents were just leaning on each other and burying themselves in work, they kind of forgot about us for awhile. Marc would be at school, practicing until the coach forced him to go home while Allie would be at the library, burying herself in her studies until the library closed. Meaning that I was, for the most part, home alone. Being home alone, made me think. What if I had been more persistent? What if I had gotten someone to listen? What if I had come up earlier? His death was my fault because I didn’t try harder,” you swallowed the last of your whiskey.

“No it-”

“Shut up Sam,” you said lazily, an alcoholic haze starting to clouding your brain.

“I was too pathetic to save him. I didn’t deserve to be alive while he was nothing but ashes. I couldn’t save him, so it was my fault. Or at least that’s what my thoughts were saying. Later on they got worse. You’re a disappointment to your family.  You’re too ugly to have anyone like you. You’ll never be enough. Time went on as I got worse. I could barely get out of bed everyday. Eventually, I had no energy to do anything whatsoever.There were just some days where I didn’t even talk because I was just so tired. I was so tired of everything. But I never let anyone else see me like that. I put on fake smiles whenever I was around everyone else. Made it so that no one even suspected that I was the slightest bit sad,” you slurred slightly. You were definitely drunk now.

“The only thing that made the voices stop was when I was taking a razor blade and cutting across my arm. Each cut I’d make, the quieter the voices would be. So I cut and I cut. I didn’t cut so deep at first. They’d bleed slightly and scar over, but then they’d be gone in a week or two. Sometimes they left a darker kinda mark, but not really a scar. At least I don’t think so. 

“When everyone started asking why I was wearing hoodies all the time, I just said that I was setting up a trend or something. Made a joke about it. They would laugh and stop questioning it. Everyone thought I was fine, so why would they keep questioning it? So I kept on faking, kept on acting,” you looked down at your sleeve, brushing your hand lightly on the fabric.

“On the night of March 1st, I couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone was smiling and laughing at dinner, my parents had invited a couple of their friends over. They were telling stories and jokes. I excused myself from dinner and went back to my room. I locked my door and snuck out the window. Went down to the bridge that was a little bit out of town. Sat down on the ledge and wondered if I should jump. The fall would have probably injured me, but wouldn’t have killed me; so the water would have.”

“How old were you by now?” Sam asked, almost afraid of the answer. You stared straight at him.

“I was 12. I don’t really know how long I sat there. But I sat there long enough that a group of people noticed me there. They varied from kids about my age at the time to high school students. They talked me down from jumping, though it took awhile. Afterwards, they walked me back to my house. We talked and they said that if I ever wanted to talk, to just find them at this place. I said goodbye and snuck back up to my room. Snuck downstairs to find my family and my parents’ friends still at the dinner table, laughing. They never noticed that I was gone for two hours at least,” you shook your head.

“Eventually, despite the group’s help, the cuts got deeper. They bled more. I filled pages of a sketchbook or two with just my blood. Whenever they healed, they obviously left behind a scar, a horizontal bump on my arm. There were dozens of them on my left forearm and upper arm. A few on my right, but not as much as on my left,” you said, as if you were speaking about the weather. Sam looked horrified at your description.

“Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to go into so much fucking detail. Should I stop? I should probably stop. I’m gonna stop. I should have never fucking talked to you about this,” you said worriedly, the haze leaving your mind at the look on Sam’s face. You stood abruptly to leave, but he grabbed your wrist from across the table. You froze, unsure. Sam walked to your side and pulled you into a fierce hug.

“No, no you should be talking to someone about this. And I’m glad that you chose me,” he murmured into your hair. He let you go and you sat back down in your chair. Instead of going back to his chair across the table, he opted for the chair next to yours. He turned so the chair could be facing you.

“Can I…?” he gestured towards the sleeves and you nodded hesitantly, turning your chair to face his. He slowly rolled up the sleeve of your right arm, until he stopped at the crook of your elbow. On your right forearm were at least 8 scars, a few were slightly thicker than the rest. You watched Sam for his reactions, ready to yank your sleeve down. His face looked hard, not really showing any emotion. He moved to roll up the sleeves of your left arm, but you grabbed his wrist gently.

“You sure you wanna see this arm? It’s a helluva lot worse than the other one,” you warned. He rolled up your left sleeve anyway, exposing the dozens of scars that littered your left forearm; all of them varying in thickness and visibility. However, the one scar that stood out was the one that was almost at the middle of your forearm. It was about 4 inches long, the width of about 2 quarters, and it had little dots on either side of it.

“What…” Sam couldn’t finish. This one was obviously bigger than the rest, this one had needed stitches. Which meant…

“I’ll get to that one eventually,” you replied, not really answering.

“I talked to that group almost everyday and they convinced me to go to Mrs. Lee. Really, she was the mother of one of the people in the group. But she had a degree in psychology. So I talked to her and for the next two years, I was better. That was until I switched schools.”

“Why did you switch schools?” Sam furrowed.

“Because I had an emotional breakdown after school one day. Kinda freaked out my parents, I should count myself lucky that they didn’t really ask questions as to why I wanted to switch. I think they thought it was because I had some of the teachers that Brian talked about and had and it brought up bad memories,” you pondered.

“Either way they let me switch schools without much fuss. By that point I wasn’t seeing Mrs. Lee anymore since she deemed me to be better. A few weeks after I switched schools, I was trying to catch up with all of the work that I had missed. I was so stressed and upset because there was so much work and I could hear my sister arguing with my parents that I just… I grabbed a pair of scissors that I had in my drawer and just sliced at my arm,” you made a slicing motion on your left arm, where the scar was.

“It was deeper than I intended and the blood was coming faster than normal. I just stared at it, kind of going into shock. The blood was dripping down my arm and I passed out. When I woke up, I was in the hospital and my sister was sitting next to me with her eyes red. The rest is sort of a blur, just like when Brian died; the most I remember is that my parents were sending me to a mental institution, rehab, whatever you want to call it. I was sent there when I was 14 and I stayed there until I was deemed better when I was 16. The night after my parents got me, I packed a bag, stole some money from my parents’ wallet, grabbed a few weapons from the basement, and ran away, ” you shifted uncomfortably in your chair and Sam moved his hand from your thigh (when did he place it there?) to hold your left hand.

“I think we should stop,” Sam said cautiously.

“Why? I thought you wanted me to tell you everything,” you said a little sassily.

“Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed it or not, but you started scratching at your left arm a while ago and it’s turning red. And you’re crying again sweetheart,” he said, wiping the tears you just now noticed were falling down your face. You looked down at your arms, your right hand stopped scratching your left arm when he mentioned it. You didn’t even notice.

“I…”

“C’mon, let’s go to our room.” Getting up, the two of you walked to the room. As soon as the two of you entered, he herded you into bed. He changed into his sleep clothes and got into bed with you. Sitting back on the headboard he put your head in the crook of his neck and wrapped his arms around you. You smiled weakly into his neck, this was the exact way you comforted him over a week ago. You reached at Sam’s bedside table for his phone. The time read 2:30 AM.

“How long have I been talking?” you asked incredulously, you could’ve sworn that it had been about 7PM when Dean went to the bar.

“You slept for about five hours. When you woke up it was already a little bit past midnight. We’ve been up talking since.” It was quiet for a couple of minutes, the two of you just enjoying the warmth that the other provided. Lightly tracing your back, Sam spoke again.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But-” you exclaimed, but he held up a hand before you could say more.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated, “If it wasn’t my fault that Jess, or Kevin, or Madison, or Ellen and Jo died, then it wasn’t your fault that your brother died. You said that you tried everything right? So it wasn’t your fault, because you tried. You tried with everything that you had. And that’s fine. You said you told your parents and that they just brushed you off right?” You nodded slowly.

“Then that makes it partially their fault. Because they should have listened to you. Doesn’t matter that it might have been because he was a teenager, they still should have talked to him. They also shouldn’t have pressured you and your siblings so far,” he said sternly.

“But they didn’t! They loved us! Yeah sure, they pushed all of us more than we wanted to, but they still loved us!” you protested.

“You said that your parents were disappointed in you whenever you weren’t able to reach their standards right?”

“Yeah…”

“Did your siblings ever tell you what they thought of your parents pushing?”

“Yeah… Marc and Alli would argue with them sometimes, because they pushed us so much. They both wanted to be something else.” you remembered the arguments that would lead to shouting matches. More often than not after the argument, you went to your elder siblings while Brian went to your parents.

“What did Brian do?” Sam pushed.

“He never really protested, but I could tell that it was wearing him down too.”

“Therefore, it wasn’t your fault. Your parents only have partial blame, but in the end it wasn’t really anyone’s fault that your brother died. And while you say you were never good enough for anyone. You’re good enough, more than enough to me. To Dean and Cas. You deserve to be here, because if you weren’t here then the people whose lives you’ve saved wouldn’t be here either. You’re beautiful and kind. You’re one helluva hunter and a great baker. You’re smart and great at researching. You’re worth something and I’m never letting you forget that again,” he smiled down at you.

“Promise me something,” he said, tilting your chin up to look at him, “Promise me that anytime you get any kind of negative thoughts again, you think about hurting yourself again, you come talk to me. Please?”

“I don’t think about cutting anymore.”

“Just promise me?” you sighed.

“I promise, as long as you promise to do the same,” you said firmly.

“I promise,” kissing you on the forehead, he adjusted your position so that he was lying down instead of sitting against the headboard. Impulsively, you pressed your lips to his. Just a simple kiss that spoke volumes. Thank you. I love you. Sam smiled at you and kissed you. I love you too.

A/N: Kinda wanted to write a smut scene in here, but then I saw that I was reaching 12 pages and I have also never written a smut scene before so I decided to not push my luck. 

Tagging: @impala-dreamer @idreamofhazel  @jared-padaloveme because I think they wanted a part two?

[wayward-marvel-sommer1196]

No Memories Masterpost

^ made by @hillywooddestiel

^I have a few different versions of these that I will post with different chapters

Pairing: Dean x Winchester Sister!Reader, Sam x Winchester Sister!Reader, John x daughter!reader

Warnings: Abandonment, drugging, kidnapping, abuse, car crash, hospitalization

Word Count: 4721

A/N: This was written for Kas’ 2.5k Dialogue Prompt Challenge @kas-not-cas. My prompt was “You have no idea who I am, do you?”. This takes place about mid season 5, not that it really matters. That is the time frame that fits the ages I’m working with and it was before the bunker. This isn’t the whole story I promise. I meant for this to be a one-shot but it got really long, like this is the longest one-shot I’ve written, and I’m tired from cleaning all day so I thought this was a good place to stop. The second part will probably be really short but it will wrap things up and will be out tomorrow. That being said, I am really proud of this one so tell me what you think feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.Also un-beta-ed and unedited because I’m tired af so all mistakes are mine and I apologize in advance.

Summary: You are John’s youngest and Sam and Dean’s little sister. You were basically left in their laps by your mother as an infant. One day, when your five years old, you are kidnapped on Dean’s watch. Ten years later you run into Dean in a coincidental accident. What happens when he recognizes you?

Part One: No Memories

Part Two: A Memory