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angelkurenai · 5 years

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Happily ever after - Jensen Ackles x Reader

Title: Happily ever after

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Can you write a Jensen x Reader where the reader is like 24 and a shy, aspiring author who owns a bookstore. Jensen goes in one day and sees her and talks to her but she’s really awkward and quiet. He’s nervous to ask her out and comes back virtually every day to talk to her and then finally gets the courage to ask her out? Thanks!

You had been staring and rereading the same line for what felt like an eternity now. But despite how interesting the book was, your mind simply refused to focus on it and just like a clockwork, you'd glance every one minute at the clock on the wall. Chewing on your lower lip, nervous and disappointed to see that time just refused to pass by. You shook your head and let out a frustrated sigh. Wether you were frustrated with time for not going by faster or yourself for being unable to stop thinking so much about it, or maybe him, you didn't know. You just wished you could stop.

Just like you could wish you'd stop jumping and looking at the door every time the bell rang. Because you only got disappointed to see it was another customer, which shouldn't really be the normal reaction for any bookstore owner that wanted and needed to make money but it happened inevitably; your heart dropped and a small sad sigh left your lips. The things that man did to you.

You gave a small smile to the newest customer, adding a “If you need any help don't hesitate to ask me.” and when you got a nod from the girl, you went back to fidgeting with the page of your book.

You could stop looking at either the clock or the door, hoping he'd walk in any minute now the way he'd done all that time ago and put your wildly-beating heart to rest, or at least calm a bit.

-Flashback-

“Uhm hello?” you heard a gruff voice only a couple seconds right after the small bell on the door rang, indicating a new customer was in “Is anybody here?”

“Be right there with you in a sec!” you said as loud and clear as you possibly could, trying to pile up all the books you needed to carry but only managing to take hold of half of them. Yet somehow you managed to hide yourself behind the pile. Your steps were careful and slow, making sure no books fell over as you brought them all to the front desk.

“Are you sure you don't want any help with that?” you heard the voice say in sympathy, the fact that sounded so familiar totally going over your head because of how focused you were to balance everything. The only glimpse you got was of a tall and broad figure but again didn't give it a second thought.

“Nope, I'm for most part fine. Almost. But you're the customer so- whoa!” you stopped for a second when the books swinged in your hands “Kind of the policy here, it's my job to help you. But, you know, maybe if you were Dean Winchester I really think I'd use that extra hand.”

An undeniably beautiful chuckle left his lips and was soon followed by the words “Not exactly, but I'm probably the closest you'll get to that.”

And this time it did register in your mind, which you regretted because it made your balance slip away in a matter of second. Your curiosity and hopes got the best of you and you dared look past your books to meet the ever-so-striking green eyes of the man you'd just thought about. And it happened just like that, in mere seconds, that the books were falling right off your hands.

“Shit” you winced when one or two, or more, books hit your leg.

“Oh fuck I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen!” he, being ever the wonderful guy, hurried to help you pick up all the scattered books.

“N-no, please, no. This- it's my fault and this is my job, there is no need for you to-” you sad in one breath, hurrying to gather everything and hopefully embarrass yourself less.

“Are you kidding me? This is my fault, please just let me help you.” he still insisted, and didn't even wait for another 'no' as he started picking up books as well.

“I'm such a clums sometimes, y-you don't have to.” you mumbled, growing more embarrassed with each second passing by.

“Well, I certainly didn't make things easier, did I? In fact I-” he started but the moment he looked up it was as if the entire world stopped spinning.

Almost as if time froze. And definitely everything around him except for you became blurry. He had heard the phrase so many times, all of them actually, sometimes from his own father at least when he was mostly younger but could never believe them. He thought about how he heard it over and over again when watching a movie, mostly his mother's favorite ones, while growing up. If only she saw the scene play out in front of her, she'd say it was meant to be but he couldn't let himself believe it. He had never truly believed in something like this, despite how much he'd always wanted as he remembered. And he certainly remembered reading about it over and over again, every time the author would use their own unique words put perfectly together in different sentences that got his attention but never to the point where he could feel it. Not the way he felt it when he looked back at you.

It was one of the cheesiest things he could ever experience, one of the most surreal ones and one he always believed was simply not real. A moment he wouldn't experience, even with the woman that he would end up marrying – if he ended up finding her that is. And apparently he just had, and the thought scared and excited him at the same time.

“A-are- are you alright?” you stuttered softly, eyes big and beautiful as you stared up at him, pausing for a second from gathering all the books.

But no response.

“Mr Ackles? Mr Ackles are you alright? Did any of the books hit you o-or something?” you quickly resumed to gathering a few more “If so, I'm terribly sorry.”

“I'm- I-” he blinked rapidly, shaking his head when he realized he was probably acting like an idiot. Long gone was the confidence he usually carried around after years of being an actor. He really thought after so much time, he had things under control and looked like a man who really knew how to carry himself not that he really needed to. But apparently when did need it the most, it all came crumbling down and he was feeling no older than 16 again with two shaky hands and dry mouth that refused to form any words.

“N-no.” he admitted shakily, forcing his eyes to focus on the books he was gathering and then maybe he'd remember how to breathe again “I am sorry. That- that was probably a terrible... joke. I suppose. I just-” he cleared his throat, freezing for a moment when he realized you had both gathered all your books and he'd have to look up again and see you. He didn't know what was more scary: his excitement at the prospect and his eagerness or his fear that he'd screw up. “I just wanted to make things a little more uhm comfortable. I realized that I probably didn't though. It just...” and there you knocked his breath away when your eyes met.

“I-” he blinked “I always get a bit too excited when I meet a fan. Unless you're... probably not one and only have watched like an episode or two. Which would now make this even more awkward because I guess it's a bit stupid to instantly think-”

“Mr Ackles!” you nearly yelped and he immediately pressed his lips together. Realization dawned on him that he was indeed rambling and because of that, he felt heat rise up his neck to his cheeks and ears. “There's nothing wrong with assuming I am a fan. I've actually been one for very long a-and I'm kind of... sort of... maybe... totally freaking out on the inside right now. Mr Ackles.” gosh, your soft giggle had to be the most beautiful sound he'd heard in his entire life. Alright, that was it. Great. He was a gonner.

It was like breathing. He tried to stop it but it was only for so ling he could resist it. The geedy feeling in his chest turning into that of excitement and pure happiness when you confirmed you were indeed a fan. He never thought that he'd wish for it but even more he wished deep down that you were one of those fans that did feel a different kind of way than-

He cleared his throat but in reality wanted to shake off the new kind of hope he had never felt before in his life “Please, Mr Ackles is my father. I'm just... Jensen. I'm not that old... hopefully?”

“No, of course not Mr- Jensen. You're not old at all Jensen, and I am not that young myself.” you gave him an insanely adorable smile that was adorned by the soft red of your cheeks. You cleared your throat softly “Anyway, how could I help you? I'm assuming you're looking for a book. Supernatural maybe? I've certainly got those! No wonder you'll be able to relate with one of the characters, although at some point it might get, well, predictable.”

Sadly a moment of silence followed after your small joked which made your smile fall. Granted, he was too caught admiring the way you spoke so softly that your voice calmed him down and your presence seemed to give him a new kind of sense he had never felt before, that he didn't hear a word you said.

You winced “Terrible one, wasn't it? I- I'm sorry.” you looked down, shaking your head “I should just focus on my job. Uh what- what were you look-”

“What's your name?” his lips formed the words even before his brain could comprehend it. It was his turn to wince this time “Sorry uh that came out a bit weird. I uh just- you know my name a-and I really wanted to-”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (Y/l/n).” you said softly, a smile barely visible on your lips but he certainly caught it “And it's ok, I- I suppose I'm acting a little weird because I honestly didn't expect that. I'm 24 and acting like I'm 16 again and it's totally unprofessional, I know.”

“Feeling's mutual.” he wished so bad he could say out loud but oh it would make things even more awkward and he didn't want it. So instead he said “No, I'd say quiet the opposite. I'm just not making it easy for you, I'm sorry for that.” he paused, rubbing the back of his neck “So you probably need help with those books?” he asked again when he realized you were struggling to put one on the top shelf.

“No, please, I've got it under control.” and you did “Besides, it's fine, you're the customer you don't have to apologize for anything.” you shrugged slightly, focusing more on putting every book in its rightful place mostly to avoid meeting his eyes “So, how can I help you?” there was something different in your voice and he realized it was your effort to avoid being any more awkward - not that he was feeling any more confident himself but at least he did do a good job at pretending to be.

Uhm well, I'm looking for a gift and the person it's meant for really likes Stephen King's writing, so I figured that a book or two for her birthday would be nice.” he saw you give a small nod, moving away from the front desk towards another place of the bookstore “She has read almost every book so I have only a few options left and every bookstore I've been to didn't have any of it. Hard to come by I suppose.”

“Stephen King, that's a great choice right there! Sometimes I swear there is nothing else I would want to read other than his books.” you said softly “Even more often, I swear there isn't a bigger inspiration than his writing. And as it seems... this is your lucky day, Jensen.”

he couldn't help want to focus only on you at the moment. You and the smile that was on your lips but you didn't really seem to notice. You seemed like the person that it would be hard for him to get a word out of you, quiet and reserved; but perhaps – and hopefully – for everything else but books. If it wasn't such a heartwarming sight that made him never want to pull his eyes away from you then he would have noticed the small chair on his way and not run straight into it, which of course he didn't until he had almost knocked it down. He was thankfully fast to catch it before it could draw your attention and he was sure he wasn't going to survive the embarrassment of that too.

“Trust me, I have a great feeling it is.” he almost whispered, or maybe he did, but he was fast to clear his throat and say even louder “I'm taking it you have Stephen King books?”

“I have all the Stephen King books.” you said with a smile full of pride and it managed to make his own smile resurface although, he wondered, had it ever disappeared? He doubted that. “So if there is one or two she hasn't read, then this is the place to find them. Your girlfriend is a very lucky one today too.”

“Oh oh no!” did he say faster than he should have? Probably yes, but he couldn't fight this. He didn't want you to think there was somebody else in his life for reasons that... he was probably a bit scared to admit to his own self too. “No, she's... she's just a friend. Only a friend. Nothing more. Now that I think about it she's probably a very very distant relative or something like that. I'm pretty sure her aunt is-” but he stopped himself when he realized he was spilling unnecessary information to make any fear or doubt disappear. And when he actually saw the relief flash through your eyes he let himself relax as well.

“Oh great!” it was that very small word that so easily had his heart jumping out of his chest “I- I mean, it's great to have such a good friend as yourself to get her a Stephen King book. I think a book in general is the best one.”

“I'm assuming you would too?” he asked softly and you hummed, nodding your head “You uhm you said something about inspiration too. Are you, maybe, studying anything in college concerning Literature o-or something similar?” he felt like he was pushing his luck but he couldn't stop it. His curiosity and need to know you more.

“Well, more like aspiring to... you know, become an author myself.” you said in a low voice

“Really?” the awe in his voice when he breathed out the words managed to make you visibly relax “That's incredible!” and instantly he felt so proud for the smile he managed to elicit from you “I can't even begin to describe how much I admire people that can write stories, let alone books. Being an author must be so hard but so exciting at the same time.”

“Yeah, I mean sometimes. But nothing can compare to the sheer joy I get when I create new characters and a new world every time you start a story. I- I feel like I could go on about writing or reading books for hours to no end. Hence why-” you looked around you “This bookstore. There's always plenty of inspiration around here, both literally and metaphorically. More so than my own home.”

“I can certainly imagine a bookstore is like heaven for an author and this one... you've done an incredible job with it. Does feel very homey if you ask me. Have you had it for a while now?”

He really didn't want to intrude in any kind of way and definitely didn't want to look like some kind of creep. But when the questions poured out one after the other, there was no stopping them simply because with every word he got out of you he felt like craved for more just like he craved air when he held his breath for too long.

Someone would say he could easily all those and just as many questions he wanted to get to know you over a nice dinner but if only Jensen had had enough courage. That day or any other upcoming one.

-End of Flashback-

You told yourself over and over again that you wouldn't look at the door every time you heard the bell rang because apparently the universe had decided to turn this into a busy hour, with new customers walking in every couple minutes. And yet every time you told yourself that, you went ahead and looked. You were sure that the one time you didn't look it would be him and sure, every time you resisted longer to glance but in the end you always did.

Some customers came and went, some even bought books which you were thankful for because they kept you away from your thoughts. And, once more, as if the universe wanted to play some sort of joke on you; the very second you actually forgot why you were so impatient today – the feeling was still there no matter what – there he was. You almost yelped in surprise, because it was still Jensen Ackles and even after so long you were so not used to this, but his smile thankfully immediately made you relax.

“Jensen , hey.” you breathed out, only for his smile to widen if possible “I was actually starting to worry you wouldn't show up.” you wanted to kick yourself for what you just said.

“You tell me.” he sighed, still keeping the fond smile on his lips “Jared kept... messing up his lines and teasing me and we barely got a scene done in time. Today of all days he chose bring it up all the time and make me even more nervous.” he rambled as he rubbed his eyes.

“Nervous about what? And... teasing you about what exactly?” you asked with a frown and he seemed to freeze for a moment.

“I'm uh- I mean I- Uhm–“ he probably looked like a deer caught on headlights. He had prepared for this, he had been preparing and thinking about it for far too long but he had hoped he'd have a couple more minutes so all in all he didn't feel prepared at all.

“'S ok, don't need to get so flustered with me Ackles.” you said softly but actually with a teasing tone that after all this time you had finally just gotten comfortable enough to use around him “Plus, remembering how to breathe would be nice to, you know, keep living?”

“Well someone's in a good mood today.” his eyes met yours as he whispered softly in addition “I'm really happy to see you like this.”

“I'm happy to be like this too.” you returned the look “But don't think this gets you off the hook. You were still considerably late today Mr. Ackles to the point I thought you weren't interested to hear how the story goes on.”

“Trust me, I would never dare miss the continuation and you know you have me on edge already. Plus-” it was getting harder to swallow and he was this close to just running away... if it wasn't for him making a fool of himself and having waited for this moment for so long that is “To make up to you for the time we uhm wasted here because I was late how about we continue this outside of your work. As in- as in see each other besides when you're at work? You know, go somewhere nice or for a drink after- after you've closed the bookstore? Or anywhere you'd-”

“Jens” you cut him off gently and deep down he was thankful because he feared he was going to keep rambling like a flustered 16-year-old forever “Are you... asking me out?”

“Well, I uh- I-” but he shook his had a bit, taking a deep breath “Yes, yes I am. So, (Y/n), would you like to go out with me... on a date, today after your work's over?”

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darthslaydr · 4 years

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Touch my girl ever again, I will rain down hellfire

TRIGGER WARNING-------------------------

Summary- Y/n get’s drunk and some guys thinks its okay to touch her. Little did they know, she was y/n fucking y/l/n and her boyfriend was Dean fucking Winchester, the in real life, Mr. J and Quinn.

Pairing- Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings- TRIGGER WARNING. Violence, angst, fluff, s*xu*l ass*ault, Alcohol. I also wanna add that I normalised some things, like crooked noses (y’all are beautiful) y/n beating guys up and Dean beating guys up.

Word count- 1030

MASTERLIST

Another day, another bourbon. That was your life. Living with the Winchesters is great but sharing anything with them is not what we do. Since you were young, you have only relied on yourself for everything, but today was different. You couldn’t save him, you couldn’t save the little boy’s life. You promised yourself you could and you disappointed everyone. The bourbon was your punishment, you hated drinking, it made you feel out of control but sometimes that is all you want, or should you say need.

The first thing you remember is, you enter the bar in your usual clothes, a tank top and shorts. Everyone eyed you up and down, you were gorgeous and everyone knew that. Your nose was crooked but that was the beauty that everyone strived for, your eyes were tiny but everyone could see the entire universe. It was 10 p.m and you ordered your usual. Your thoughts occupied the next two hours, to the point you don’t even remember how much you drank but you knew it was a lot because you had a high tolerance, more than the boys. You could feel yourself getting tipsy after what you thought was the eighth shot. You could feel your phone vibrating beside you, as the minutes passed multiple missed calls appeared all of the different names; Dean, Sam, Cas. The truth was you were too numb to even pick it up, the only thing you could pick up was the chilled glass.

At the bunker-

“Where the hell is she?” Dean screamed at Sam and Cas in the bunker

“How the hell do I know? All I know she is okay, she is y/n after all” said Sam

“I know, but it is 3 a.m., she is usually back by this time,” Dean said with a lower voice

Sam could see the fiery concern in his eyes mixed with the love he had for y/n. The truth was, Dean needed her more than she did, but you know what they say about love, love is a bitch.

Dean gets up and starts walking and pacing around the room, like any second he will see her and his heartbeat will be steady.

To his demise, you weren’t there

At the bar-

You gazed over your phone after the 12th missed call, it was 3 a.m., shit. You stood up and you lost your control instantly. You could not drive like this, you were more responsible than that. You finally called back Dean, but before you could say anything, someone’s unwelcomed arms got ahold of your waist with your instinct, you turned around and pushed the guy.

“Woah, Woah baby girl. I am just tryna help you” he smirked while looking at your legs

“Suck my dick. Leave me alone. I got it” You said passing him.

At the bunker-

Dean’s phone vibrated, it was y/n. He could breathe again,

“Where are you?” he said, but all he could hear was you grunting and a guy calling you baby girl.

Dean’s heart dropped, his hand shivering. He picked up the car keys and walked to his car and drove the baby so recklessly. He was ready to crash baby, the anger that filled his veins was terrifying.

At the bar-

Another guy grabbed your wrist. That’s it, you lost it, all the grief all the rage came out and you twisted his arm right back and pinned him against the wall.

See the thing is you were strong, strong enough to stand up for yourself but maybe not that in control when you are drunk. That other guy came and grabbed you by your hair, jerking you to leave his friend’s throat. He punched you and you punched, kicked and slapped him back. Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering on your head echoed. That bitch.

You lost balance, everything started becoming blurry. Punches and bottles smashing against your head will do that to a girl. As you started falling back, a set of familiar hands got ahold of you and you felt safe. You looked up to see the love of your life, Dean.

You could see the anger plastered across his face, but his beating chest screamed worry. He helped you stand straight and caressed your face and you passed a smile.

“So, which one of you dicks first,” said Dean while looking at his knuckles

Both of them chuckled and one of them charged at Dean. You laugh, fighting against Dean? Stupid. Dean punched the guy before he could even reach him. Suddenly he was on the floor, and Dean was hovering over him, punching him constantly.

“You ever touch my girl ever again, I will rain down hellfire on you”

You could see the fear in both of their eyes, but Dean could not see that. Dean kept beating him because all he could see is, their hands touching you, touching his girl. That drove him crazy. You ran towards Dean when you couldn’t see the guy moving, the other guy was long gone. You pulled him back, Dean would’ve punched you too, but he knew how your hands felt against his body and suddenly he calmed. You both walk out of the bar, his arms around your shoulder. He sets you down on the seat and knelt in front of you. He saw the blood dripping from your head and the bruise on your cheek. He got up clenching his fist but you pulled him down, you held his face and kissed him, it’s the kiss that calms you down but strong enough to start an apocalypse.

“I love you” you whispered

“ I love you” he replied

Dean removed your hair from your face and he saw the beauty in you again. You were as beautiful as the moon. He started checking your face for other bruises before his hands landed on yours, to find equally bruised knuckles as him.

Dean lets out a chuckle, “Ahahahah, That’s my girl, and sits beside you in the impala, in the short space you sat and gazed at the stars, but Dean gazed at you.

#dean winchester #dean masterlist #supernatura #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #drunk #supernatural #sam winchester #jensen akles #jensen akles imagines #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles imagine #supernatural imagines #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #dean winchester possessive

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lilulo-12fanfiction · 5 years

Text

Wonder of You

Letting Go- Chapter 5

So this one is a long one. Thank you as always for your likes, re-blogs and comments. I LOVE FEEDBACK!!!!!!

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in this story, or anything else I have.

Tag List:

@magssteenkamp @fandom-princess-forevermore @deans-baby-momma

Blake couldn’t sleep. Well she didn’t want to sleep. Every single time she closed her eyes, she watched Dean get electrocuted again and again. Granted he was okay now, he had been healed, but the prospect of loosing him had been too close for comfort. Or she saw herself and Sam locked in cages waiting to be slaughtered. So instead of sleeping herself, she watched him and Sam sleep. It was a gift to watch their chests rise and fall. The idea of living in a world without Dean or Sam Winchester in it was more than she could handle.

The whole ordeal had taken a lot out of Dean emotionally. Someone had died so that he could live. Even though he didn’t make the choice, it was eating at him. And the idea that he wanted to sacrifice his life so someone neither of them knew could live made Blake’s breath stop. He couldn’t leave her, regardless of how guilty he felt. She had knocked the wind out of Sam when she hugged him gratefully for stopping the ritual and saving Dean. He knew that no matter what Blake had told him, she wasn’t over his brother. The fear and relief he had witnessed in those few days proved it. She just wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. She also knew her and Sam vanishing had rattled his cage quite a bit. Blake turned her head to look at Sam. Her sweet Sammy. What was happening to him? Psychic visions, telekinesis? The Demon that had killed Mary had done the same thing to Max’s mother. What if Sam lost control? The idea of him hurting himself or someone he loved made her queasy. She looked at her phone willing John to call, but he didn’t. She knew he wouldn’t. She was so angry with him she could scream. She hugged her knees to her chest and shivered. The cold Chicago air nipped through the cheap motel.

Sam and Blake had barely made it away with their lives. She shuddered at the idea of being locked in that cage. The way the brothers were a little to handsy, leering at here. The one had mentioned keeping her for himself. The back of his hand running down her cheek. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Dean hadn’t found them.

“Do you ever sleep anymore?” She heard Dean’s gruff voice.

“Too wired to sleep.” Her chin rested on the top of her knees.

“You look exhausted. You shouldn’t have taken the couch. I would have.“

“I wouldn’t have slept in the bed either Dee.” Dean sat up.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” It was funny how sometime the nickname made her cringe and other times it warmed her heart. She considered her answer for a moment and realized that he would see through her BS if she lied.

“You mean other than being locked up and almost hunted like an animal? I’m terrified to close my eyes. I see you or Sam dead...or worse.” Dean took notice of how her voice shook. He stood up and made his way to the couch and sat down next to her.

“Tell me about the worse. You promised me you’d tell me about those nightmares, maybe you thought I forgot.” She sighed. Dean sat wide eyed as she went through the gamete of visions. Her mother’s corpse speaking to her. The terror, the running. John and Mary.

“They want me to know something. But they won’t tell me what it is.” Her voice broke. “I am convinced your father knows something. I think my mother made him appear to me to give me a hint. He won’t call me back. I’ve called and I’ve called.”

“I know. Have you ever done research into your mother? Maybe there is something there.”

“I’ve always been too scared to. There’s something on the edge of my memory that I can’t quite reach. I think it would explain things. No matter what I do, it’s like the memory is locked.”

“Well, we figure out what is up with this Demon and Sammy and then we’ll figure this out too.”

“How Dean?”

“Together. We’ll figure it out together.” He pulled her over to him, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re freezing. C’mon, let’s go lay down. Same deal as when we were hunting the scarecrow. Even a flicker of a nightmare and I’ll wake you up.” You nodded and followed him to the bed. She knew she would have a dreamless sleep. She always did when she was with him.

Blake was fidgeting as Dean and Sam we’re chatting trying to figure out what their latest Monster was. She was overtired, stressed out and irritated with Dean’s constant flirting with anything that had breasts.

“So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number.” Blake clenched her jaw as Dean smirked. She was waiting for Sam’s smart ass response when he got up from the table and was walking away from them. Dean looked confused and alarmed. They watched as Sam approached a blonde woman at another table. Sam put his hand on her shoulder. Her face lit up in recognition. Blake and Dean stood to see who this girl hugging Sam was.

“I thought you were going to California? Sam was questioning her. Blake wasn’t crazy about how she was looking at Sam. Something about her was off.

“Oh, I did. I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar.” Blake rolled her eyes when Sam had no idea who she was talking about. “Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while.” Dean was trying to get their attention but was being ignored so Blake interjected herself into the conversation.

“You’re from Chicago?” Blake Feigned interest.

“No, Massachusetts—Andover. Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?” She was gushing and trying way too hard.

“Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again.” “Well, I'm glad you were wrong.” Blake wanted to puke. This girl was laying it on thick and was super fake. Sam finally acknowledged her and Dean.

“Meg, this is, uh—this is my brother, Dean and our best friend Blake.” Meg didn’t try to mask her surprise.

“This is Dean?” Meg completely ignored Blake. Dean gave Meg his Winchester grin.

“So, you've heard of me?”

“Oh, yeah. I've heard of you. Nice—the way you treat your brother like luggage. Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth.”

“Um excuse you bitch. Don’t talk to him like that. You don’t even know him.” Blake pushes her way infront of Dean. Sam jumped in before it escalated any further.

“Blake stop. Meg, it's all right.” Blake didn’t know if she wanted to punch Sam or Meg more.

Dean let out a low whistle before speaking. “Okay, awkward. We’re gonna get a drink now. C’mon sweetheart.” Dean took Blake’s hand and led her towards the bar. Dean was making eyes at Blake once they got away from Sam and Meg and Blake was ignoring him. “You’re pretty sexy when you play white knight to my damsel.” When she turned and looked at him, her expression told him he shouldn’t have said that.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me? I’m sure you said something similar to our bartender and your friend at the Police Station.” Her arms were crossed in-front of her further showcasing her irritation. “Screw this. I’m heading back to the motel. Enjoy your drinks.” Before Dean could stop her she was headed out the door and across the street to their motel.

A little while later Sam and Dean we’re heading out to the Impala. “So Bee is going to be in a mood when we get back.” Sam hated when Blake was mad. She did an excellent job of punishing them when they crossed her.

“Yeah she’s pissed at both of us. But this Meg. Who the hell was she?” Sam shrugged at Dean.

“I don't really know. I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird.”

“And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick?” Dean was pissed too. He’d never laid eyes on her before. Sam sighed.

“Look, I'm sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—“

“Well, is there any truth to what she's saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?”

“No, of course not. Now, would you listen? I think that there's something strange going on here, like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead. I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?” Dean wasn’t so sure.

“I don't know, random coincidence. It happens.” Dean shrugged off Sam’s suspicions.

“Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on.” Dean gave Sam another smirk.

“Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her. Maybe you're thinking a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?” Sam groaned.

“Do me a favor. Go talk to Blake and make sure she’s okay. She’s been on edge for a few weeks. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor. I'm gonna watch Meg.” Sam rolled his eyes as Dean started laughing. I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry.”

“All right, you little pervert. You just want to avoid Blake until I calm her down.” Sam gave Dean a dirty look, getting irritated look. “I’m going... I'm going.” Dean gave Sam one last grin and headed across the street to their Motel.

Dean was sitting at the computer researching Meg waiting for Blake to come out of the bathroom. She had been taking a bath when he got back. Not that she had responded to him when he called her name, but he could smell her bubble bath as the scent seeped under the bathroom door. She had been moody for days. He knew it was from the lack of sleep and stress, but it was still unsettling none the less. She never got jealous. He flirted with women in front of her all of the time. He would be lying if he didn't admit to himself that it thrilled him that she got jealous over him. Sam had made it clear that Blake had moved on, but he never would. She would always own a part of him, no matter where life took them. He looked up when he heard the bathroom door open and his mouth went dry. Her curly hair was pulled back into what was her signature messy bun and she was clad in what seemed to be the shortest charcoal pajama shorts he had ever seen her in and a matching cropped tank top. If she was trying to punish him to prove a point, it was working. When she ignored him and went to her bag, Dean picked up his cell phone to call Sam to distract himself.

Blake smirked internally at the expression on Dean's face. She knew what she was doing to him, and he deserved it. She pretended to not pay any attention to him, she knew it was childish, but she couldn't help herself. She looked over when she heard his voice and knew he was talking to Sam.

"Let me guess. You're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" She wished she could hear Sam's end of the conversation "You've got a funny way of showin' your affection... Sorry, man, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phone book. I even pulled up her high school photo. Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?" Blake rolled her eyes at Dean's teasing. "Yeah, that I did have some luck with. The symbol, It's, uh—turns out it's Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It's a sigil for a Daeva. It translates to "demon of darkness". Zoroastrian demons, and they're savage, animalistic, you know, nasty attitudes—kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls." Dean paused while Sam responded. "Give me some credit, man. You don't have a corner on paper chasing around here... No, I called Dad's friend, Caleb. He told me, all right?" Dean had a look of defeat on his face. Truth be told, he was just as smart as Sam, he just hid it from everyone. Dean continued his conversation with Sam. "Anyway, here's the thing—these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured. And, from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos." Blake turned to focus on what Dean was saying. As much as she wanted to play the game with him, this was too important to not really listen. "Well, nobody knows what they look like, nobody's seen ‘em for a couple of millennia. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town. Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?" Blake snickered. One of Dean's favorite forms of entertainment was torturing Sam. "No, bite her. Don't leave teeth marks, though—Sam? Are you—?" Dean pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at it, Sam had clearly hung up on him.

"I mean, I'm surprised he didn't hang up on you sooner." Blake kept her voice even. Her heart was racing and her hands felt sweaty. Dean hadn't made her nervous in a long time, but the look in his eyes made the butterflies in her stomach come alive. His green eyes narrowed on her, lips slightly pursed. All she wanted to do was grab his face and kiss him, to make him forget about the bartender and any other girl he had ever encountered.

"So she speaks. Still mad at me sweetheart?" He watched as her nostrils flared slightly and then she turned away from him. He stood when she didn't respond and she felt his presence behind her and then his breath on her neck. "I asked you a question you know." He watched as goosebumps erupted down her neck and shoulder. It made him proud to know that he could still affect her like that.

"I heard you Dean." Her voice was low and breathy. She felt his hands on her hips. She didn't think that he could stand any closer to her. He was so close he had to be able to feel her heart pounding. She felt the stubble on his chin scratch against her shoulder. She didn't understand how her mouth could go dry and water at the exact same time.

"It's rude to ignore people. Does it still make you jealous? Me flirting with other girls?" "Think about how you would feel if you saw me fawning over a cute detective or getting the number of a bar tender? Going home with him. Letting him touch me."

"I would hate it. It would drive me insane.” He admitted. She felt his nose against her ear. This shouldn't be happening, they shouldn't be this close, but she didn't have it in her to push him away or tell him no. She groaned when she felt his teeth graze her earlobe. "It drives me crazy even thinking about it." She held her breath as he kissed down her neck and shoulder. She felt his hand slide around to her stomach and he pulled her tighter. She was wrong, he could get closer to her.

"Dean..." Her voice came out in a whine. Her mind was trying to protest. There was too much at stake for the two of them to get distracted.

"Do you ever think about that night?" She swallowed but didn't answer. "I know you know what I'm talking about. That night at the beach, before everything went to hell. I think it about it all the time. You and me, your skin against mine. I've never not thought about it. It was the best night of my life. You know I'd always choose you, over anyone else. It's always you." Her heart overran her brain and she turned herself to face him. Their eyes locked and his lips were crashing into hers. Years of need and want coming out in the kiss. She felt his hands roaming her body as she ran hers up the back of his neck into his hair. She loved him. She had always loved him. She always would. It was always Dean. She peeled his button down off his torso, running her hands down his arms and underneath his shirt. He was pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth and then plunging his tongue back into her mouth. She felt his hand slide up and he grazed her nipple with his thumb over her top. His other arm circled her waist and his hand spreading across the small of her back. Kissing him was like something inside of her was coming up for air. She became alive. Where this was going, they would never know because Sam burst into the room at they jumped apart. Blake rushed into the bathroom shutting the door behind her and leaned against it.

There was no way Sam didn't know what was going on when he walked in. What the hell was she doing? It was a bad idea, she knew it was a bad idea. But it was Dean. Bad idea or not, her want for him out rode any common sense she had. She heard Sam talking when she opened the door after she had composed herself.

"Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing. She was talking into that bowl, The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone." Sam's and Blake's eyes met and she felt the heat creep up her face.

"Who was she communicating with? The Daeva?" She asked, cringing as her voice cracked.

"No, like Dean said, those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's coming to that warehouse." Sam and Blake watched Dean as the wheels in his head were clearly turning. He sat down at the table looking through some files.

"Holy crap." Blake and Sam gave Dean a questioning look and he continued.

"What I was gonna tell you earlier—I pulled a favor with my – my – friend, Amy, over at the police department.." He barely made eye contact with Blake as she crossed her arms in front of her. "The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time. The first victim, the old man—he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. He was born in Lawrence, Kansas. Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from? Lawrence, Kansas." Blake visibily went pale and Sam sat down next to Dean at the table with a look of disbelief.

"Holy Crap. I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?" Blake stood quietly as the two brothers were reeling.

"I think it's a definite possibility."

"What I don't understand is what's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?" The boys looked over at Blake as she posed the question.

Dean shrugged at her. "Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation." Sam shook his head at Dean. "No, we can't. We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her. "

"Sam's right. We need to know who is giving this Meg chick the orders to do this. There's a chance we wont get her to tell us if we interrogate her. It's a wasted opportunity." Dean hummed in agreement.

"I'll tell you one thing. I don't think we should do this alone." Blake watched as Dean pulled out his cell, undoubtedly to call John as she and Sam went out to the car to get together some weapons.

"So...sorry for interrupting earlier." Sam finally said after a few moments of them silently loading up the bag.

"Stop. I'm not doing this right now."

"Bee...it's okay. I'm not going to make fun of you. I just wish you guys would give in and be together." Blake stopped and looked at him, studying the sincerity on Sam's face.

"Sam...I just...I can't...I don't know. I think instead of resolving anything things are just more complicated and fucked up. But right now we have to focus on this." Sam nodded, he took her hand and squeezed it and then went back to loading up the back. As they entered the room again, they caught the tail end of Dean's voicemail to John.

"We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse—it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can." Dean hung up and looked over at Sam and Blake carrying two full bags. "Jesus, what'd you get?" Both Blake and Sam grinned.

"We ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything" Dean nodded and the three of them began loading their guns. After a while, Dean finally spoke."Big night."

Sam looked over at Dean. "Yeah. You nervous?"

"No. Why, are you?" Sam smiled at Dean.

"No. No way. God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"

"We probably shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. You know, counting chickens and what not." Blake looked at both of the brothers and Sam shrugged.

"I'm just saying, what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school—be a person again. " Both Dean and Blake's eyebrows shot up, but Dean was the first to respond.

"You- You wanna go back to school?"

"Well Yeah, once we're done hunting the thing. Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" Blake was praying this didn't end up in an argument. Dean took a deep breath to try and quell whatever he was feeling.

"No. No, it's, uh, great. Good for you. Sam."

Sam considered Dean for a moment before speaking. "I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?"

"It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be something to hunt."

"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself—" Dean interrupted Sam before he finished.

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam."

"Dude, what's your problem?" Blake held her breath as Dean was silent for a few moments thinking before he responded. She wanted to punch Sam. How did he not get it?

"Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"

"‘Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom."

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man." Blake stopped loading the back, incredibly interested in Dean's explanation. "You, Blake, me and Dad—I mean, I want us….I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again. " Blake felt her eyes fill with tears. She didn’t realize until they very moment that she wanted that too. She missed the way things were before too. All day, almost every day with Dean and Sam. Seeing John regularly.

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before." The look on Dean's face broke Blake's heart. Sam continued. "I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way." Sam grabbed his stuff and headed out of the door to the Impala. Blake stood there for a moment and Dean turned to her.

"Are you going to leave me too when this is done?" The intensity in his eyes took her breath away. She crossed over to him and threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly to her.

"I'm never leaving you again. I promise you. Whether Sam stays or goes, whether your father stays with us or goes out on his own. It'll be you and me, always. I told you when you came to a California that the life Sam wants, it’s not for me. It didn’t stick. This is what I want ."

"Pinky Promise?" She heard him say into her shoulder. She closed her eyes for a moment and kissed his cheek.

"Always Dee.”

Blake, Sam and Dean climbed the elevator gate and reached the top room of the warehouse to see Meg at the altar speaking the ancient language Sam bears when he was there before. The 3 of them quietly squeezed their way through the small space near the grate. Blake was shocked when she heard Meg’s voice.

“Guys...hiding is a bit childish don’t you think? Why don’t you come out?” Blake’s adrenaline was pumping. Something about this was very very wrong. “Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, tell me about it” Dean was looking around.

“So, where's your little Daeva friend?” Meg smirked.

“Around. You know, that shotgun's not gonna do much good.” Dean didn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. The shotgun's not for the demon.” Blake was about to say something but Sam beat her to it.

“So, who is it, Meg? Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?” Blake’s eyes went wide when she saw the shadows forming on the walls.

“You, of course.” Meg grinned. The shadow demon knocked Sam to the ground and threw Dean and Blake into a pile of crates. Blake felt her neck snap back and the corner of a crate knocked her unconscious.

When Blake came to, she and the boys were tied to separate posts. Sam and Dean were next to each other while there was a decent distance between the two of them and her. She felt bile rising in her throat as her head pounded. She vaguely heard Sam and Dean as she concentrated on not emptying her stomach.

“This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearing what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it? And that the victims were from Lawrence?”

Meg laughed and shrugged. “It doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all.”

Blake furrowed her eyebrows. “You killed those two people for nothing?!” Meg laughed at her.

“Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less.” Blake shivered, her head still pounding. When Meg’s attention turned to Dean, Blake started working on getting the rope around her wrist cuts with the small knife up her Sleeve. Dean smiled at Meg. “You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time. But why don't you kill us already?” Meg scoffed.

“Not very quick on the uptake, are we? This trap isn't for you.”

Sam’s face lit up with recognition. “Dad. It's a trap for Dad.”

Dean laughed at Meg again. “Oh, sweetheart—you're dumber than you look. 'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good.”

“He is pretty good. I'll give you that.” Meg walked over to Dean and straddled his legs. Blake worked harder ready to rip her face off. “But you see, he has one weakness. You. He lets his guard down around his boys and pseudo daughter, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody—nice and slow and messy.” Blake knew Meg was right. Trap or not, John Winchester would come.

“Well, I've got news for ya. It's gonna take a lot more than some….shadow to kill him.” Dean had so much faith in his father.

“Oh, the Daevas are in the room here—they're invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see.” Blake was almost free when Sam started talking.

“Why you doin' this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?”

“I'm doing this for the Same reasons you do what you do—loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy—and Jess.” Sam told her to go to Hell. “Baby, I'm already there. Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty. I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me—changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it? I didn't mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun.” Blake was certain she was going to vomit when Meg started kissing Sam’s neck. She stopped when she heard Dean messing with the knife and ropes behind him. “Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?” Sam smiled at her.

“No. No. That's because I have a knife of my own.” Sam broke free at the same time Blake did. He head butted her as Blake ran for the Altar and flipped it over and watched as the Shadow Demon appeared and went after Meg. The last thing Blake remembered seeing was Meg go over the ledge before the searing pain in her head caused everything to go black.

Blake remained unconscious when the Shadow Demon attacked the three of them and John. Luckily it hadn’t laid hands on her. Dean looked in the rear view mirror of the car and watched her for a moment. He had laid her in the back. He knew she was going to be furious when she woke up and found out John had been there and left before she woke up and had a chance to talk to him. Dean knew she had questions of her own.

John had sat down on the bed next to Blake and brushed the hair off of her forehead with a distant smile. Regardless of what had happened he missed her and much as Blake missed him. He had protected her from the Demon and thrown her over his shoulder to get her out of that hotel room. John hesitated leaving and stared at her for a moment. He kissed her forehead and told Dean to tell her he was sorry and that he would see her soon.

“Should we have taken her to the hospital?” Sam looked back at Blake with worried eyes.

“Maybe? I don’t know. She would be even more pissed than she’s already going to be.”

“I still think he should have stayed with us.” Dean was exhausted and he couldn’t have this argument with Sam again so he focused on the road. “Dean- what’s...what’s going on with the two of you?” Dean looked over at Sam.

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Do you want to be with her?” Dean looked at Blake in the rear view mirror again.

“If that’s what she wants. I think she’s scared.” Sam nodded.

“I know she is. Dean, just be careful okay?”

“What? You really think I’d hurt her?”

“God no- the opposite. I think if anyone hurt anyone, she’d hurt you. Not intentionally. She’s like a baby deer, spooks easily.” Dean looked over at Sam.

“I’ll give her anything she wants. She wants me? I’m hers. She wants someone else and I’ll walk her down the aisle.” Sam looked over at the serious look on Dean’s face.

“Trust me. She marries anyone it’ll be you. I don’t know that she will ever trust anyone else the way she does you.” Sam saw a ghost of a smile on Dean’s face as he looked at you again. “Just give her time to realize she wants it.”

It had been weeks since John disappeared again and Blake was still raging. Dean admitted that Sam had wanted John to stay. Dean didn’t want Sam to be punished for the decision Dean and John made. It had been weeks and Blake was still ragingly angry. She had left John a few voicemails with some choice words. For Dean, she had no words. Dean wasn’t surprised she wasn’t talking to him. He knew she thought John had answers about her mother, but it wasn’t the time. With their closing in on the yellow eyed demon, the focus had to be there. Whatever was on deck for Blake would have to wait.l, so Dean let her punish him with silence and glares.

He knew she was pissed when the motels that didn’t have a couch had her sharing a bed with Sam, which meant she slept even less than usual. A sleep deprived pissed off Blake was treacherous and it seemed everything Dean did pissed her off. He wished she would get over it, but he knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. It seemed like any time the two of them got close to being something...John or Sam somehow ended up muddying the waters. Blake became increasingly obsessed with finding as much info about her mother and her past as she could. She refused to work the cases that John pointed them to. She sat out the last 3, doing her own thing in each town. She didn’t tell Sam what she was doing or what she was looking for. As far as Sam knew, she was rebelling against Dean and John.

Sam was sure Blake had never been this quiet in her life. Blake was a talker who couldn’t stand long stretches of silence. She spent most of her time glued to her laptop or earbuds in her ears while in the car. The tension in the car rides was getting to Sam. Plus they could have really used her help during this case in Poughkeepsie. She would have figured it out a lot quicker than he and Dean had.

So Sam was going to stay behind with Sarah for a bit. He and Dean decided it was time to take a breather until they knew what their next steps from John were. Blake and Dean would be on the move and Sam would join them later. He was hoping the time alone would allow them to figure their crap out. He wanted to be just that Blake was keeping something from him, but he knew her. She kept things close to the vest until she had all of the information. Dean was the keeper of most of her secrets. But Sam had a few of hers too. The relationship between Blake and Dean was special. Sam has finally come to realize that he didn’t need to be jealous. She was his best friend, but she was hopelessly in love with his brother. She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

Blake approached Sam with the biggest smile he’d seen on her face in weeks and it was genuine. He knew it was because she was happy that he was ready to move on from Jess. It amazed him that no matter how messed up she felt on the inside, she always tabled it when she had a reason to be happy for someone else. Her empathy was moving. She threw her arms around his neck to hug him and squealed when he lifted her off the ground.

“I’m proud of you Sammy. Jess would be too. She wouldn’t want you holding on to her. She’d want you to be happy. You deserve a little happiness. But if shit gets weird, you call me and I’ll rescue you.” He laughed, deep down in his belly

“My hero.” She kissed his cheek after he set her down. “You going to be okay?” He looked over at the Impala and Dean. She nodded her head. “Look- I know there’s something you’re not telling me. And it’s okay. I know it’s something he knows and it has to do with my Dad. Just- maybe forgive him okay? Or at least try for me. He was terrified that night that something was going to happen to my Dad. And then you and the blow to the head...he knew you were going to be angry and trust me, he struggled. But he did what he thought would keep everyone the safest. And you not talking to him? It’s killing him. Please, while In gone, figure it out. We need you in cases. You’re too smart. And when you’re ready, you can tell me about it.” He saw tears in her eyes. She was tough as nails but had absolutely no poker face when it came to her emotions.

“I love you Sammy. Oh! I put condoms in your bag. Don’t be silly, cover your willy.” She pointed at him and doubled over laughing when his face got bright red.

“I hate you.” He mumbles and walked her over to the car and opened her door for her. “Oh, and Bee, I took your ear buds.” He slammed the door before she could react. And hit the top of the Impala to signal that Dean could take off. She crossed her arms in front of her and sunk down in her seat. Dean looked over at her. Angry or not, she looked adorable when she pouted.

Blake hadn't said two words since they had gotten in the car. It had taken Dean a while to decide where they were going to go and then it was like a light bulb went off in his head. He was desperate to make things with Blake right, so he headed towards Maryland. Blake loved the coast. She loved the salty ocean air. She always clarified that she hated dirty muddy lakes, but the ocean made her come alive. Dean knew it was nostalgic. Her beginning years she had lived in Virginia near the coast. He had seen her face a few times when the ocean air blew through her hair, he rarely saw her at peace like that.

He looked over at her, his eyes raked over her bare legs in her denim shorts and tank top. She might be pissed at him, but it didn't stop her from stealing one of his button downs. He couldn't stop himself, he reached over and took her hand and held it tight when she tried to yank it away. He kept his eyes on the road as her eyes burned with fury as she stared at him. She pulled her right knee up to her chest and rested her chin on it. He felt her hand relax and then she laced her fingers within his. He felt the first tiny crack in her icy exterior. Dean smiled to himself. By the time Sam was back, he was convinced they'd be back to normal. He saw the second crack form when the recognition of where they were headed hit her. She knew Dean was taking her somewhere along the East Coast. He felt her squeeze his hand in anticipation. She still hadn't said anything, but the squeeze of his hand was all he needed. He looked at the gas gauge and decided to pull off into the Gas and Sip that was coming up on the right. After he had set the gas up to pump he came around the car as Blake was getting out. After she shut her door she turned around to head into the store but Dean had her caged in by both hands on each side of her on the Impala.

"I'm not letting you go until we talk. Actually talk, no yelling or swearing at me." He saw the stubbornness flash in her eyes. He knew at that moment is more about her standing her ground than actually still being mad at him. "I'm not kidding. We'll stay right here. Sammy can come meet us at this gas station when he's done with whatever it is he's doing. When Blake tried to look away he hooked his right hand under her chin and turned her face back to him. "I said I was sorry. I know you're pissed. I know he wont call you back. I'm sorry. I was too afraid that being with us was going to get him killed. I was even more afraid that him being with us would get YOU killed. You were unconscious for hours. You missed a demon attack. If you hadn't woken up when you did, you would have woken up in a hospital. I was terrified. And what if he was with us and the Yellow Eyed Demon showed and you couldn't defend yourself? It's after my father now. You being anywhere near him isn't safe." Blake swallowed the lump in her throat. The truth was, she wasn't angry with Dean, not anymore. She was just angry and she was childishly taking it out on him because she didn't have any place else to direct it. She felt the pad of his thumb swipe an errand tear off of her cheek.

"You're right." She finally relented.

"I'm sorry...one more time for those in the back row?" She glared at him and he gave her his winning Winchester grin.

"I'm just so angry Dean. I feel like it's going to bubble over the top. I feel like if I don't direct it at something it's going to consume me. I was mad at you when I found out, and it was easier to just stay mad at you than to try and navigate this. I'm sorry for abandoning you and Sam on the last few cases. I just...I...I don't know what to do with myself. I keep feeling the edges of memories pushing to break through the seams, but they just can't shake loose. I know your father knows something...I know he's keeping something from me. And I should know what it is. I wasn't a baby when they died...when they killed her. I was 12. I should remember better."

"I promise you...we will figure this out. I just, I can only deal with one crisis at a time. This thing that killed my mom and Jess...we're closest to that. Let's see it through and then I swear to you that I will do whatever I can to help you put the pieces together. I'll hunt my father down myself, regardless of what he wants I will make him give you answers. Just hang in there with me for a little bit longer sweetheart, okay?" Blake nodded. Dean pressed his lips to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her for a moment with his chin on the top of her head. "Alright, go in, grab us some snacks. And if you promise not to come out with any of the crap you buy Sam I'll let you choose the music until we get to Ocean City." Blake beamed at him with a knowing smile. He watched her walk into the store, his shirt flowing behind her, ready to enjoy a few relaxing and tension free days with her.

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mersuperwholocked-lowlife · 5 years

Text

Text Imagines Masterlist

Running Away - Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader

Comeback - Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader; Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Yellow Eyes and Lies - Sam Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Gone - Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Using their car - Sister Winchester

They Don’t Care - SIster Winchester

#supernatural #spn #supernatural family #sam winchester #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #masterlist #spn masterlist #supernatura masterlist #spn text imagine

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supernatural-freek · 5 years

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Danger In The Dark

DeanxSister!Reader, SamxSister!Reader

Synopsis: When they bring you back, and they do bring you back, they tell you that Michael’s gone. But you can’t help feeling that you’re still playing his game.

REQUESTED

MASTERLIST (PART ONE)

There’s blood in the shower.

You watch it run down your skin, chased away by the hot water you’re standing under. It should’ve been washed away by now, you think, but I’m still bleeding from somewhere. You aren’t, not really, but you can still see the blood and you’re curious.

They brought you back. Of course they did, that’s the Winchester Way. You don’t stay dead.

They tell you that they won, that Michael’s gone. You bite your tongue before yo can say that Michael losing and them winning are two different things.

You wash your hair and scrub your body clean, and you try and think about nothing. It works until you get back to your room, dressed in fresh clothes. You come face to face with Dean.

He can’t look you in the eyes.

“Hey bro,” you say, and you hide the flatness to your tone. “What’s up?”

Dean reaches forward and messes around with the collar of your jacket. You let him do it, even though the collar had been fine. You know this is Dean’s way of collecting his thoughts. “I stabbed you.”

“No,” you say firmly. “Michael stabbed me. You brought me back.”

Dean shakes his head and pulls away, sitting on your bed. “I wasn’t strong enough to contain him, and you died because of it.”

“I won his game,” you say. You don’t think Dean quite understands, because Dean lost the game. This behaviour, right here, is proof. “Dean. Feeling guilty is what he wanted. I’m fine. He’s dead. Things are okay.”

“I killed you, baby girl,” he whispers.

“Michael killed me,” you say, and you know then that you’re still playing a game. Say the right things, play the right cards. Convince Dean, forgive Dean, play the game.

Your brother reaches for you hand, and you let him hold on, if only so your own hands won’t shake. “I will never forgive myself,” Dean vows. “Because if I had of been stronger, it wouldn’t have happened.”

You don’t tell him otherwise, because lying is something you’ve always hated.

You dream about Michael, and about the world burning. When you wake up, your chest hurts like you’ve just been stabbed again.

Dean tells you that it’s too quiet one day. Sam’s out with Cas and Jack, hunting a shifter, but you asked to stay behind. You were still weak. Your hands still shook when you held a gun. Dean had volunteered to stay behind with you.

“There’s no noise anymore,” Dean confesses, and the circles under his eyes seems o mock you. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just not adjusting properly.”

You purse your lips. “If I had an archangel smashing around in my head for ages, then he vanished because I was knocked unconscious, I’m not sure I’d adjust well either. It’ll take time, bro, that’s all. Nothing inherently bad is happening right now, so just take your time in coming back to us.”

Dean takes a very long drink of the coffee you’d make him. He side-eyes you, something equally prideful and dangerous in those green eyes. “You’ve grown up,” he says, and it sounds like an accusation.

You shrug and don’t waver under his heavy gaze. “I just died. Sometimes we forget that dying puts things in perspective.”

Dean looks sadder. “Yeah,” he says quietly.

You sigh, because how long is this going to haunt your family? “I remember the pain I felt,” you say, because Dean needs to hear this and you do too. “It hurt so bad. Insides, i was pleading for death to come because I could feel everything small twinge of agony. But I looked at Michale and I laughed because I won that round. He’d gotten angry, lost his grip on you. I won because I made the sacrifice. We cant expect to always win without casualties. Sometimes it costs too much, but we have to pay it anyway cause that’s our job.

You take a deep breath. “I was scared,” you confess softly. “I’ve never been so scared. Michael was powerful, you know that. But he’s gone now.”

“We’re still playing his game,” Dean whispers and your blood chills slightly. “You know that.”

you say nothing more, but you know that Dean knows.

Sometimes he comes to your room when both of you are haunted by nightmares. You don’t talk about it, but you both know you’re dreaming about the same thing.

Sam doesn’t ask about it when he comes looking for both you and finds you tangled on your small bed, your cheeks slightly damp with tears that won’t stop falling.

When they bring you back, they tell you that they won.

Sometimes you wonder if it was worth it.

#supernatural #supernatura one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfic #supernatural-freek #dean #sam #sister!winchester #supernatural sister!reader #winchester

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babytheimpalaimagines · 7 years

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imagine: rambling to jack and accidentally admitting to your crush on him. you panic a little not sure if he understands or has feelings for you. besides you had only known jack for a few weeks.

“y/n, i like you too”

#jack kline #jack kline x reader #jack kline imagine #spn #supernatura #spn imagines #winchester

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fk12b · 7 years

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Dream a little dream of me

Jack Kline x Reader

Plot: You have a dream with the Nephilim

Main characters: Team Free Will 2.0

Prompts: 136 - “Wait. Are you telling me…?” & 181 - “You’re everything to me” & 177 - “So… you love me?”

Warnings: Sometimes the dreams don’t come true. Fluffy Mcflufferson

Word Count: 1568

A/N: Based on this song -> Dream a little dream of me - Blind Guardian Cover & What’s in a Kiss? - Gilbert O’Sullivan

You are lying down on the couch. Boots, tight light blue jeans, and a black tank top on.

You are asleep with your headphones on your ears.

Your favorite playlist of the best rock music rocking.

The song reaches the end and you open your eyes as you feel someone hovering over you caging you with his arms. He puts away your headphones with the iPod.

It’s Jack. He’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, that highlight his blonde air and hazel eyes.

Those aglimmer hazel eyes looking at your Y/E/C ones. You place one hand on the back of his neck and you tangle the other on his hair as he leans in. Bangs tickling your forehead.

Jack’s face is really close to yours, millimeters. If you move slightly, your lips brush. Not that you mind. All that you can think of is to kiss him.

“So… you love me?” He asks moving a little closer, if possible.

He doesn’t let you answer. He gives you a soft and warm kiss. Your lips fitting perfectly together.

The sound of a door slam woke you up. It was just a dream, a vivid one. A dream that you wish it became true. But obviously, Jack doesn’t love you back, does he? Does he even know what love is? It’s a really complex entelechy, humans do not understand it either.

The guys were back from the hunt that lasted a week. A long and boring week. You stand up from the couch to meet them.

“We’re back,” Dean said in happy tone while descending the stairs. You meet him at the bottom to hug him. He spun you and placed you carefully on the floor again.

“What time is it?” You asked as you let go of him to climb up some steps to hug Cas who hugged you back tightly.

“3 a.m,” Sam said few steps up behind you. Cas continued descending the stairs as you ascended to hug Sam, well the middle of Sam.

“How was the hunt, Sammy?” You asked as he continued descending. when his head was at your level he kissed your cheek.

“It was okay, salt ‘n burn, y’know, there wasn’t much trouble.” He said simply shrugging.

You finally reached the top of the stairs where Jack was standing there, looking anywhere in particular. But when you were in front of him his face turned into a happy one. More than happy. A wide smile crossed his face as he turned to face you. Another one in your face mirroring his. You hugged him too but you didn’t realize that you pecked his check too. His heart skipped a beat when you did it. He encircled his arms around your middle hugging you tightly. Why that smile has to be soo sweet? you thought to yourself, or at least that was what you believed.

Your thoughts were so loud that he could hear them, not only your thoughts, your dreams too.

“Want some coffee?” you asked Jack as you pulled apart. His arms not leaving your waist.

“Sure,“ He said with a happy grin and the both of you started to descend the stairs, Jack’s hand firmly resting on your waist.

You both entered the kitchen and he let go of you to sit across Dean at the table and you reached the counter to fill three mugs with coffee.

“Cas, you want coffee, too?” You asked as you poured some coffee into the mugs.

“No, Thanks... I’m okay,” The angel said simply.

So you turned to the table handing the three of them their respective coffee. Sam and Dean nodded to you with a smile and Jack thanked you with a wide grin.

“Guys, I would love to chat with you, but I’m really tired. I like to sleep, I need to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow. Night boys” They boys wishing you sweet dreams you left the room, without noticing that Jack was following you with his hazel eyes, as you left the kitchen. He even shifted in his chair to have a better look at you when you were giving them your back. That didn’t go unnoticed by the brothers and the angel because they were giving him that knowing look.

The clock showed 8:30 a.m when you woke up again. You dreamed of Jack again. The same vivid dream as before. You had a shower and put your tight light blue jeans and a black lycra tank top on. You choose to wear your black and white old skool vans.

You entered the library, you picked a book and head to a table. Jack was sitting in a chair drinking his coffee. As soon as he caught a glimpse of your figure that sweet smile crossed his face, as wide as ever. That smile and those eyes, Is he even real? He’s so… perfect.

“Oh, Dean and Sam are on a supply run with my father. I made you coffee,” Jack said pointing at the mug placed on the table in front of him. You sat across him taking the mug in one hand and opening the book with the other. You smelled the coffee and took a long sip. It tasted amazing. Oh, Chuck, this coffee is delicious. I can’t tell who smells better Jack or the coffee.

“Thanks, how sweet of you, Jack, umm… this is the best coffee I’ve ever tasted,” You said smiling at him. Jack’s smile grew even wider, if possible.

As you started to read the lore book, Jack was looking at you, remembering every freckle of your face, your beautiful Y/E/C eyes, your lips. Those lips. You didn’t know but he knew everything you were thinking and what you dreamed of. He knew what love was because he asked the brothers last night. In that moment he realized that he loved you. And yes, he had the same dream as you. He wanted to make it come true. But how? Even though, he knew the answer he had to ask you.

“Y/N?” Jack asked after a moment with a happy smile on his face

“mhm” You hummed looking up at the Nephilim to meet his gaze. You took a sip of your coffee.

“What is love?” He asked looking right into your bright soul.

“Um… Love? Love is… Complex. Most humans don’t understand it.” You downed the remaining coffee. You placed your mug on the table as you licked the remaining coffee on your lips and closed the book. You looked at those beautiful hazel eyes, that seem brighter every time you looked into them. “Love is a mixture of feelings, every good feeling you could think of will still be love. Love is to care about someone, protection, trust, loyalty, not wanting to leave that person’s side. Um… Also, the only thing you can think of is that special one.” You said your eyes not leaving him.

“Dreaming about her?” He asked curiously.

He said her? Obviously, how could I ever think that I liked him a little bit?. You’re stupid Y/N, how could you even think that he loved you back? “Yes, I guess.” You answered as you opened the book again looking down at it.

The smile on his face vanished. He thought for a moment that he had screwed up. But then he realized that you might have thought that he was in love with another girl, as Sam warned him.

"So... You love me?" He finally asked.

That took you by surprise and you couldn't help but blush. It was like in your dream, but there was a lot more space between the two of you. You were about to answer but he spoke first.

"Because I do love you,"

You looked up from the book to meet his eyes again. Did I hear what I've heard?

"I mean," He continued "What else can be? I had this feeling since the very first time I saw you. And you being so nice to me and caring didn't help to not stop thinking about you all the time. And want to make my dream come true. I care for you and I want to protect you with my life. You strongly believe that I'm good, and that's what I want to be because you make me good. I don't know what I would be without you. And I don't want to know it."

"Wait. Are you telling me...?" Your cheeks turning bright red as a tomato.

"That I fucking love you? Yes. By the way, Dean told me to say this phrase. I'm okay if you don't love me, well... I won't...But..."

"Jack... " You cut him off. "You're everything to me. I love you, Jack. More than anything in this world"

The wide happy smile appeared again on the Nephilim's face. He stood up and so you did. He cupped your face with both of his hands and crashed his lips to yours. You place one hand on the back of his neck and you tangled the other one in his blonde air. It felt really good. As you melt into the kiss, he placed one hand on your waist and pressed you close to his body as he deepened the kiss. It felt like an eternity when you pulled apart to breathe while he rested his forehead in yours as the happy smile crossed his face again.

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saibug1022 · 7 years

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Just Your Average Resurrection

Supernatural Imagine- No Pairing

Word Count: 1184

Warnings: There are some curse words

Disclaimer: I own neither you nor any elements of Supernatural

A/N: Alright so I hope you like it anon! Again, I’m sorry if Crowley seems a bit OOC, I’ve never written him before. I hope this is what you wanted! Also, I may do a prologue or something later to show the whole Lucifer, Crowley, Y/M/N love triangle thing.

Request: May I please have an imagine where Crowley has a daughter and Lucifer is basically her guardian angel because her mother (the only human Luci has ever loved) asked him to and about 16 years later the mother is brought back to life and no one is really sure what to do with that (except the mother she just wants to learn everything about her child).

Key:

Y/N: Your name

L/N: Last name

h/c: hair color

Y/M/N: Your mother’s name

Lately, your father had been acting...strange, even for him. He had been distant, secretive, and almost nervous when he would actually let you be around. He had even stuck you with the Winchesters. The Winchesters. You personally were quite indifferent to the flannel-wrapped brothers and their pet angel, but your father hated them, which was led you to decide something was up. But what the hell was up with the king of Hell?

Finally, after two weeks with the Winchesters, you had decided enough was enough. You snuck out of the bunker and it’s warding and teleported to just outside your father’s throne room in Hell. You stormed into the throne room, the doors crashing open on their own, only to find Crowley’s throne empty. You simply thrust your arm out to the side and a demon was dragged forward by your power wrapped around his throat.

“Where is my father,” You growled. You may be 16 but you were certainly terrifying. After all, as a half-demon, you were an extremely powerful being known as an anti-christ. And your demon parent just so happened to be the king of Hell, and your “guardian angel” was also Lucifer, which he had made known when he was ruling Hell. “Where is Crowley?!”

“I-I can show y-you,” The demon choked out from the tall and slender African-American man he was possessing.

You nodded curtly and released the demon, making him fall to his knees and regain his breath for a moment. Once he had, he immediately scurried to the throne room door with you following close behind. He stopped outside a door that didn’t look any different from the others, but you could feel the power of strong warding. Except the warding wasn’t keeping something out, but seemed like it was keeping something in.

“This is it?”

The demon nodded vigorously and you waved your hand in dismissal, sending him running off and away from you. You waved your hand again and the door flew open to reveal your father standing over Lucifer. The archangel was strapped to some sort of chair that reminded you of an electric chair. The chair was practically covered in warding sigils, keeping Lucifer’s power restrained.

“Seriously Dad?!” Your voice made the demon king turn around to face you and motioned toward Lucifer. “So this is why you’ve been secretive? This is what you’ve been hiding from me? You trapped my fucking guardian angel! I can’t believe you!”

“Now you listen here young lady-” Crowley started but you interrupted him.

“No dad!” You walked right up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “What would mom say if she were here huh? From what you’ve told me about her there is no way in Heaven, Hell, or even fucking Purgatory that she’d be okay with this.”

“I think I agree with Ms. Y/N here,” Lucifer nodded towards you. “You really should let me go.”

You took the keys from the inside pocket of his jacket and began to set Lucifer free. Once you did he stood and stretched his limbs, groaning obnoxiously. Your dad opened his mouth, probably to yell at you, but before he could you heard a delicate feminine voice call out “Fergus!”

Now, normally this would lead you to believe that it was your grandma, considering the only people who called him that were her and you when you were trying to annoy him. But this voice was much more delicate and without a Scottish accent, while Rowena’s accent was even more evident than your father’s. A minute later a stunningly beautiful with a flowing white dress swept into the room. Her hair was almost an identical shade of h/c as yours, and her hazel eyes seemed to peer into your very soul, which you knew wasn’t all that pretty. At first, you thought it was her striking beauty that rendered Lucifer and your dad speechless. At least, until Lucifer spoke.

“Y/M/N?” Lucifer walked forward as if in a dream. “Is it really you?”

“Woah Woah Woah.” You shook your head and put your hands up in a time-out symbol. You noticed your dad’s eyes flash red in anger and you placed a hand on his chest, both to calm him and hold him back. “Y/M/N? As in my mother?”

“Y/N?” The woman's eyes widened and she looked around Lucifer to look at you. She released herself from his grip and closed the distance between the two of you in three strides. She engulfed you in a hug and broke down in sobs, burying her face in your neck. “My beautiful baby girl.”

“Whoa hold on.” You gently pulled out from the hug to pull out your angel blade. It may technically be celestial silver, but it still worked. You flipped it so the handle was facing her and held it out.

She gave a knowing smile and took the blade before making a long but shallow cut across her palm. You observed it closely and nothing happened. It didn’t burn, which meant she wasn’t a shapeshifter or ghoul, and it didn’t glow blue so she wasn’t an angel, and if she was a demon you would be able to see her true face. This woman was really Y/M/N. Your mother. You pulled her back into a hug and she wrapped her arms around you too.

“Mom.”

“Y/N,” Lucifer placed a hand on your shoulder and pulled you away.

“What are you doing?” You gave him a quizzical and slightly annoyed look. “I did the tests, she’s really her.”

“There are more creatures than you could know,” Lucifer countered. “It’s my job to protect you and so that’s what I’m going to do. Think about it, she wasn’t in hell which means she was in heaven. If she was in heaven how the hell would she be down here and alive?”

This did make you hesitate, and you eyed Y/M/N warily. Your dad came to stand next to you and Lucifer, his own angel blade sliding out of his sleeve. Your mother looked distraught and miserable.

“Okay fine,” The woman sighed. “I made a deal with the angels. A bunch of them need vessels and I promised I would be one after 1 year on the surface.”

“Mom,” You sighed, and looked at her sadly. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I wanted to get to know my daughter.” She took your hands in hers. “I had heard talk that you were struggling with who you were and I realized that you wouldn’t have a mother to help you through that. So here I am.”

“Lucifer?” You looked to the archangel. He may be the devil now, but he still had his angel powers and could tell if someone was lying. He nodded, a look of shock and awe plastered onto his face. You pulled her forward into another hug and you both cried into each other’s shoulders.

“I love you so much,” Your mother got out between sobs.

“I love you too mom.”

#supernatura #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #crowley #lucifer #crowley's daughter #lucifer guardian angel #resurrection #imagine #x reader #x you #x y/n #half demon #princess of hell

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notnaturalanahi · 7 years

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Imagine dating Sam and quarreling with Dean like siblings

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean

Wc: No idea (between 200/300)

Warnings: None

A/N: I’ve had this one on my draft folder for like a month and I decided to post it today... Tags under the cut.

Imagine dating Sam and quarreling with Dean like siblings

Heading back to the bunker after a successful hunt with the boys is has to be one of the best in the world,that and purposely doing things you know Dean hates

“Hey, hey! Muddy boots off the seat!” He adjusts the rearview mirror you snort as you get the reaction you were waiting for, but roll your eyes at him all the same.

After kicking your shoes off you show your socked feet to him by putting them on the back of the front seat. “Jeez, take your stinky feet from my face,” Dean exaggerates and pushes you with his elbow.

“I don’t stink!” you retort, taking one foot to your face, the smell hits you before you reach your nose. “Ugh. Dibs on the shower as soon as we got to the bunker.”

Dean opens his mouth to argue deciding to give you the evil eye instead. Sam gets in the car last, taking his spot on passenger seat and shutting the door. You lean forward and place a kiss on the back of his ear which makes him smile and you can finally relax.

One of Dean’s old tunes blast through the speakers as soon as baby roars back to life and since you don’t get a say in the music selection you start to loudly sing along, just to mess up with the driver.

There’s no rule for that...

“Come on baby, don’t fear the reaper

Baby take my hand, don’t fear the reaper

We’ll be able to fly, don’t fear the reaper

Baby I’m your man”

And of course the whole verse is off tune.

“Y/N?” Dean tries to say above the music but maybe you cannot hear him.

“La, la, la, la, la

La, la, la, la, la”

“Y/N!!” he shouts.

“What?” you stop singing and sit up to hear him better.

“Don’t you ever quit your day job, sweetheart,” he jokes

“What’s that supposed to mean?” with both arms hanging from the back of the seat you get closer to him.

“I mean, stick to hunting. It suits you better.”

“Don’t you think I’m a good singer,” you ask sarcastically, adding a little pout.

“Umm… Nope”

You scoff, and turn towards his brother. “Saam” you whine looking at him.

“What,” Sam asks, distracted by the ancient lore book he got to keep.

“Babe, do you think my singing is great?”

“Yeah, baby I think you’re the best at everything!” he answers with a big smile and his eyes quickly go back to the book.

You then stare at Dean, cocky smirk on your lips.

“No, he doesn’t count. He’s your boyfriend. He’d say anything while you’re putting out to him.”

“Ew, Dean! Anyway I know you love my singing. You’re just jealous, because you don’t have my amazing voice, right Sam?” Sam nods sticking by your side as always and you give his brother a wide grin.

“Yeah Y/N you caught me… I wish I could kill every song like you!” Dean says rolling his eyes and focusing back on the road.

“That’s right, no one can kill songs like she does." Sam agrees without realizing what he’s saying.

"Sam!” you shout and smack his arm.

“Ha I knew it!” Dean chuckles.

"But I mean it in a good way, babe!” Sam tries to fix it.

“You better!” You roll your eyes, “Wanna make it up to me when we get back and jumo in the shower?” You bite your lowe lip suggestively. Sam nods with too much enthusiasm.

Dean shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath while you llean back singing the whole ride back to the bunker.

Everything: @nadiandreu7

@winchesters-princess

@purgatoan

@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname

@thegreatficmaster

@death2thevirgin

@mogaruke

@isis278

@marygracewinchester

@lbug1025

@authoressskr

@fangirl1802

@ria132love

@policeofficerdean

@donnaintx

@feelmyroarrrr

@just-another-busy-fangirl

@love-kittykat21

@tanithlowisabamf

@emilyymichelle

@goldenangelbloodcastiel

@likesiriusly

@petrovadixon

@bulletscrossbowpie

@imagining-supernatural

@kdfrqqg

@bradygabrielle-blog

@charliebradbury1104

@hanny-writes-spn

@thedevilinthedetails

@docharleythegeekqueen

@artprincessbree

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@tardis-full-of-fallen-angels

Everything SFW: @deathtonormalcy56

Wanna be on the tag list?

#Imagine dating Sam and quarreling with Dean like siblings #Sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam fluff #sam winchester fluff #Friend!Dean x Reader #Friend!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean crack #dean winchester crack #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatura drabble #supernatural imagine

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kikiatthemirror · 2 years

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Please, give us back Carry on

After the end of Jib12 I felt the strong urge to write this post, because I have these thoughts in my head and that I would like very, very much, to be able to share with Jensen.

Poor boy, if we all had a chance to tell him all our opinions… he probably wouldn't have a moment of peace.

But this thing… this thing that weighs down my chest every time I think about it… has to come out of me somehow. And luckily I'm not on tik tok otherwise there would be a terrifying possibility that he could actually read me! Haha !!!

It all starts from the video of him who was moved when he leaves the con and the fans start singing Carry on.

Look at his face! This man is more stuck with Supernatural than all of us put together.

And how can we not understand it?

He has been bringing an iconic character to life for 15 years.

15 years!

He loves Supernatura and the characters, he cares about it, I think he has a very precise idea of the impact they have had, even if every now and then there are moments when it all seems to go back into a box. But that's not what I want to talk about.

The point is that the songs are important. Through songs we express emotions, in a different way than just words. It’s as if music has the power to bypass our defenses and go straight to our heart, to our soul.

The combination of words and music is a very powerful combination.

It has been for centuries, we are not discovering anything new.

I think someone like Jensen, who writes songs and sings, understands this very well.

And with Carry on...

I swear, I wish I could look this man in the eye and say "Jensen, please, give us back Carry on."

I’m very happy for the people who were able to sing it, listen to it and smile at the convention.

I couldn't.

For me Carry on has become unlistenable. It was one of the songs I loved the most.

Just to let be clear about how much I loved that song, this is a mixtape my husband made me many years ago. Carry on was the first song on the CD.

Now I have deleted it from all my playlists.

When we're in the car, my husband knows that if Spotify has the bad idea of suggesting it, he has to skip it.

And I know I'm not the only one. We are many still hurt by that ending.

Truly hurt, not just disappointed or disagree. (Even today I don't understand how they had the impudence to air that crap after the campaigns against depression)

I spoke to a dear friend who was at the convention, and she told me that she was unable to attend that moment, that she was in another room crying.

If I had been there I would have done the same because Carry on, for me, has become the song of mourning, loss and pain.

The last episode completely ruined it for me.

All I can imagine if I hear it is Dean, torn from the life and the world for which he fought, repaid with a paradise that, no, does NOT convince me. But even if it were the most perfect of heavens, it wouldn't change my mind. I can't think about his death.

That's not his fate, no, absolutely.

And Carry on is just a slap in the face now, a mockery.

In the face of holding on because then there will be peace. Peace cannot be that.

And I can't imagine that THAT is the last message of a show that has always told me to not give up, to keep fighting, to keep close to me the people who choose to face the most difficult moments with me.

Before the finale, that was the energy of Carry on for me. It was "Keep fighting, keep gritting your teeth and eventually everything will be fine, you can do it."

There is nothing left of that message.

So, if I could sit with Jensen and talk to him for a few minutes, I would ask him to please give us back Carry on.

Because his eyes moved by the fan’s reactions told me that what we feel about Supernatural is what he feels about Supernatural.

We are still here, talking about it, getting angry, getting excited, because we love Supernatural.

And we deserve that there are only smiles and no tears with that song.

We deserve it to still be energy, courage, shadowless joy, not resignation or pain.

Please, Jensen… give us back Carry on.

#supernatural #jensen #I need to talk to this man

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angelkurenai · 3 years

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Imagine having a crush on Charlie Hunnam and Dean, your bodyguard, getting extremely jealous when, during an interview, you can’t stop flirting with the man who is also there as a guest.

“You know, all jokes aside, you seem a lot more calm this time. You're usually stressed out to go on interviews, no matter the host.” Dean remarked, his eyes taking in your figure.

Seriously, why don't you spread your legs a little more, I didn't quiet get the message yet. you almost said, and you most certainly thought, but only bit the inside of your cheek and looked away from Dean.

Your bodyguard leaned casually against his seat, knowing fully well just how distracting he was to you like that but not giving a damn. The suit did wonders, not that he needed it to. Though you had a growing suspicion he was well aware of it and was doing it on purpose just to get you back for everything you'd put him through.

“Well, for one I've had time to relax.” you shrugged, looking away, finding it easier to speak when you weren't looking at him “And I did plenty of it, to the point I'm looking forward to get back on the spotlight. Maybe you should try some of that? You are more stressed tonight.”

“You mean vacation?” he raised an eyebrow as you hummed.

“The kind of vacation that's meant to make me relax?” another questioned which you nodded your head at.

“Oh that kind of vacation, I see. So-” he paused, giving you a look “Not the kind of vacation that's a torture for me, filled with ice-cold showers and morning shots of whiskey because you're walking around in your bikini all day long and refuse to change unless it involves dressing down more? That kind of vacation?” he paused, eyebrow raised as he expected an answer to that before adding “Mind your own business.” he muttered, voice deeper as he glanced at the driver who had been not-so-subtly listening in.

“I-” you parted your lips to answer but ended up shrugging anyway “Guilty. But also, sorry not sorry. Besides, that's not the point here. I mean it, you could really use some vacation. Lately it seems that whenever I have an interview you're more stressed than me and my manager combined.”

“Do I? I wonder what the reason might be. Oh maybe it's the fact that last time I remember, you took part in a game that involved buckets of water being poured on you while wearing a white dress and what I rather vividly remember very little coverage underneath. And you-” he pointed a finger at the driver “If you dare google that, you're fired. Trust me I will know.”

“Yes, sir. I didn't hear a thing, sir.” the driver said with almost wide eyes, knowing fully well not to challenge Dean. It didn't matter how, he wasn't going to risk it.

Meanwhile, all you could do was roll your eyes “It was not buckets, only glasses of water. We were playing water war and just because you were giving me looks all night, I lost and Jimmy won. So yes, I blame you for that. Besides, I was wearing underwear, alright?”

“At this point I really wish you weren't. Wouldn't have been as... traumatizing.” he struggled a bit to say the word because if he really used the one he felt like, the one he wanted to, then he didn't know if you'd make it to the studio. But given the snort the driver gave then it couldn't be more wrong of a choice for a word.

“Social media didn't see it that way, as far as I remember. Including several celebrities I know of.” you shrugged, smirking “I don't know about you, I had plenty of fun.”

“And I had plenty of heart-attacks.” he muttered instead, mostly to himself.

“Either way, you don't have to sweat it this time. Graham doesn't have any sort of games, not of that kind anyway.” you brushed him off “Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about. Nothing my ass. Son of a-” he sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face.

At this point he would certainly take all the water the ocean had to offer, instead of whatever that fancy colored liquid that sat in the glass on your hand was. A glass you hadn't missed the opportunity to refill at least twice so far. And while that on it's own wasn't such a bad thing, combine it with a ridiculously attractive man who happened to be your celebrity crush – as you never failed, not for a second, to point out to Dean every time you got the chance – and a lack of inhibition and you had the perfect recipe for a catastrophe. Or Dean's death, whichever came first.

“So as you can imagine, now there's a bit of a problem there now. Mostly whenever I'm on a flight and what not.” Charlie explain as Graham nodded his head and you looked at him with a concerned frown.

“But it's not like it's left a problem with your hearing in general, right? You- you can hear well from that side of-” Graham started speaking.

“Well, generally speaking I can- I'm sorry what?” but as he was talking, Charlie started speaking at the same time only to pause and ask the question back instead, which made all of you burst into laughter.

“Wait- hey you!”

“Ah gotcha huh?” he grinned, his smile only getting brighter when he glanced in your direction, your giggles a tad louder and more easy thanks to the alcohol in your system. It was exactly that which had Dean on edge. One of the many signs that the alcohol was doing its job.

Much like the easy and inviting smiles. Much like the way you'd bite your lower lip at times, when he spoke. Much like, even when you were speaking, instead of looking at the host, your eyes would constantly jump on the man next to you on the couch. Much like when you laughed at something funny he said, your hand would rest on his shoulder or, worse, when it rested on his thigh. And if that wasn't driving Dean mad as it was already, when the actor only seemed to relax under your touch and lean in closer, it felt like he could only see red and that the tie around his neck was choking him. He was about to loosen it only to remember he had done that long ago. If there weren't people there, he'd have long ago jumped from his seat and started pacing around like a lion in a cage. His jumping leg was certainly proof of that, what with all of his twitching. He huffed, shaking his head before he narrowed his eyes at the scene before him. Every little action that unfolded before his eyes was proof of why he hated not being able to intervene when you had a little too much to drink.

“Territorial much, aren't we Deano?”

He remembered you asking with a smirk on your lips, which had very quickly and easily turned into a grin - if not a slightly drunken one - when you'd clearly seen the way his eyes had only darkened and his jaw, clenched and all, had twitched. The look he had given you was of a warning one, telling you not to test him further but after a party where you've had a little too much too drink and even more to flirt, with all those actors and celebrities around, you only saw it as a challenge. He knew real well he was being territorial, he didn't need you to ask. He had nearly punched a guy when he got his hands on you, and it was expected after he had been fuming in the corner and watching like a hawk when said hands lowered even further down your back and you leaned into him all giggling and touching. He was bound to explode and it came as no surprise that, even drunk, you would take notice of it and use it to your advantage. Granted, he couldn't pin you on the wall and mark you down nor slam you against the bathroom wall and have his way with you, but he could come up with ways to get in the way.

Not that the alcohol seemed necessary anyway. Snapping back to reality, the scene before him verified his thoughts. The way the man was looking at you, his undivided attention all yours, his eyes on you at all times and, even worse, his lingering touches could have very easily made you fall into his orbit without even a single drink needed.

“And here I thought that walking away with a bruise or two from the set of Marvel was too much. Oh how I love green screen now!” you laughed “I mean I've had several injuries before, but most of the time they're far too stupid to talk about. Besides, I always look one step away from total meltdown doesn't make much of a difference if you add an injury or two to the case, so- Cheers to that!”

Your words, as you raised your glass, earned a laugh from everyone around you, Graham not missing the opportunity to speak “See? That's exactly why she is my favorite guest! This is what everyone now calls is a total mood!”

The man next to you, who threw his head back and then looked at you with absolute adoration written all over his face “Oh I doubt that even at your worst you could look anything short of perfect, darling. In fact I feel like I should have received a warning, to make sure I was more properly dressed or something. I didn't know I'd be sitting right next to an angel tonight.” his accent wasn't making things easier as Dean could practically see you swoon.

“Oh, look who's talking. Please, don't have a single doubt Mr Hunnam, I can't take my eyes off you tonight!” you smiled, or more like smirked, at Charlie, whose smile only got bigger when he heard your words.

“Now it's my turn to blush, please.” he offered you a smile which you could only describe as adorable, if not irresistible given how you bit your lower lip “I mean, I'd say it's just me but I believe that everyone will agree when I say that I don't think there would be a single injury that can take from the beauty sitting next to me right now.”

“Why you flatter me so much, Charlie, but you say that only because you're too good and because you haven't seen me in the morning.” you pointed out, loving to see him raise an eyebrow “The whole rise and shine is the exact opposite of what I do. One, because I don't rise, I could stay in bed all day long, and two, because I can only shine as much as a black hole does.”

“While I could definitely argue with you on that one, dear, I'll only say that it's impossible to believe. I don't doubt for a second that you're any less beautiful. That could be just my imagination, sure, because I have no personal opinion or experience but-” he shrugged while the audience cheered for him and you laughed behind your hand, and the man lowered his head in slight embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck “Besides-” he cleared his throat “In all seriousness, now, there is nothing wrong wanting to stay in bed till late.”

“And even more when there's good company for cuddles, right?” you raised a suggestive eyebrow at him, making him bite his lip in return as he lowered his head while laughing “Besides, I am never one to deny a man his chance at seeing how I really am in the morning.” you shrugged not in the least bit innocently, because Dean knew that look and the whole body posture you had and it had him gritting his teeth, before the audience cheered even more loudly at you “For- You guys! For research purposes, clearly. So that Charlie can testify that I am indeed the... human equivalent of a black hole in the morning! That's all.”

Your giggles could barely be heard as the audience clapped once more, some of them laughing as well. You instead bit your lip before taking another sip of your drink, Charlie doing the same.

As if by some miracle, or at least for Dean, this time it was Graham who spoke up “Why, for some reason, I feel like I am third-wheeling here? And I thought it was my show. I feel like you won't even realize it if I'm gone.”

“No Graham, of course not!” you reassured him with a smile “You know you're my favorite host! You're the star of this show, the one that makes the rest of us shine and bring out the best in us! The one who makes us laugh and have the time of our lives in the show! The one who makes us look forward to this! The one-” you paused , snickering as you glanced at Charlie “Boy am I drunk already?”

Everyone along with Graham, laughed. Well, everyone except for Dean, who looked like he was going to pounce any given second now, especially with how his arm was casually resting on the back of the couch, almost over your shoulders “It's alright, I think we all realised it by the second complement in a row.”

“Well, at least let's all be honest. It's at least slightly less embarrassing than me recounting mildly gross if not horrifying stories of all the injuries and infections I've gotten. Which, thank you, by the way, for, Graham. It's-” Charlie paused, nodding his head “Exactly as I pictured spending my night. Speaking about the times I got a moth in my ear and ran down a forest naked, while such a lovely lady is sitting next to me.”

“Oh trust the lady, she is very much enjoying the conversation, worry not!” you giggled and he grinned, finally resting his arm on your shoulders and giving you a squeeze.

“You're mostly welcome!” Graham laughed “But, speaking of- I noticed this and I wanted to ask you myself, this seems like a reoccurring pattern with you Charlie, isn't it? Like, I always hear you saying that you got sick this or the other way and you- correct me if I'm wrong, but you are someone who takes pride in their personal hygiene.”

“I- I'm a germaphobe, you can go ahead and say it.” he laughed “Yes, it's one way to describe it. Of course I- I do take pride in my personal hygiene but I do think it's exactly that which gets me. You know how these kinds of things end up turning against you? Well, yeah, that's what happens with me. I get sick all the time.”

“There is a saying about that, isn't it? I think I've heard it somewhere but I can't, for the life of me, remember it right now.” you mumbled with a deep frown.

“Oh yeah, you attract the most that which you fear the most.”

“Ah, yes! Yes.” you nodded your head, pausing only half a second before looking back up at nobody in particular “Oh how I fear Charlie Hunnam!”

And that was all it took for the crowd to erupt into cheers and for Dean to groan as he let his head fall into his hands. There was no need to look any more, the way the actor's eyebrows rose in interest and a smile spread on his face. He knew what was to follow, and he didn't mean just the interview, and that meant he had to prepare himself for whatever he had to do to keep and... if need be, maybe finally, mark his territory. But unlike any other time, he knew, it wouldn't be as easy.

“You- what? You guys! I was only... I'm just saying what every lady and gent here is thinking, that's all. Me? I'm just more or less... drunk. Drunk more than I initially assumed.” you laughed, shaking your head despite your burning face “Aah Graham, how I hate you.” you gave a sweet smile to the host and friend of yours as all he did was laugh at your misery.

“Ah Graham, how I love you.” Charlie said, laughing “Can we-” he looked away and around at the crew as he lifted his glass “Can we get come more of that here? Lovely drink. Truly lovely.”

“Lovely night.” Dean grumbled to himself, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, eyes hard as he glared at the man before him and next to you. But truth was he knew that it was only the beginning of the night if not the beginning of a very long and tiring journey, which he didn't know if he'd make it through. Why?

Because as if on cue, as if he'd read Dean's thoughts, Charlie's eyes met his. The smile vanished from his lips for barely a few seconds, making Dean straighten his back and narrow his eyes at him. Because he'd, maybe, finally met his match. That's why.

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