Dean X Reader X Sam (friendship)

A/N: This one was super fun and light-hearted and I loved writing it! With Love, Kat

Words: 1155

Originally posted by youre-good-im-crowley

“Son of a bitch!” you hear Dean scream as he gets covered in ranch dressing from the elaborate bucket-on-top-of-the-door booby trap that you created on the way into his room. You practically roll on the floor out of your hiding place next to his desk, unable to breathe out of laughter. Seeing the big, bad hunter Dean Winchester covered in ranch dressing was not a sight you wanted to soon forget. So naturally, you whipped out your phone to take a picture. Unfortunately for you, Dean saw you now out of your hiding spot and came to tackle you, getting you covered in ranch as well.
“Dean!” you screeched, giggling while trying to wiggle out of his grasp and run out the door, but you were unsuccessful, he was too strong. So you two just sat there, covered in ranch, laughing until your stomachs hurt.
As Dean got up and put a hand out to help you up, he put his lips to your ear and whispered “This isn’t over, sweetheart” and let a devilish smirk play across his features. Oh god, you thought, what on earth had you started.

The next morning, pranks the last thing on your mind, you sleepily wandered into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. As you opened the cabinet, a pie tin full of whipped cream launched out of the cabinet and directly into your face. Well, now you were awake. “Dean Winchester I’m going to kill you!” you screamed, wiping whipped cream off of your face. Dean came running into the kitchen, with a look of horror on his face. Until he saw you. Then he erupted into a fit of laughter like you’d never seen, hell you didn’t even know Dean could laugh that hard. Between laughs Dean managed to get out “Okay Y/N, I know you think that was me. But honestly, I didn’t do this. I wish I had though, ‘cause this is frickin’ hilarious!”
“Wait, if it wasn’t you, then…” you stopped, confused at who the hell quite literally just pied you in the face. And then you heard it, the stifled laughter of the one and only Sam Winchester, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I just had to get in on this prank war” Sam said laughing, walking towards you to help you clean up.

Later, while you were doing the dishes after dinner was over, you felt someone behind you. So you turned around only to be greeted by Dean with a giant bucket of ice water that was, in an instant before you could stop it, cascading over your head and body. “DEAN!” you screamed while punching him in the arm. “Ouch, Y/N. It’s just a little prank, no need to abuse me,” Dean said, laughing his ass off at you, soaking wet and freezing. “You’re cleaning that up” you grumbled while walking out of the kitchen to get changed and not freeze to death. Dean and Sam were having quite the laugh watching you walk out of the kitchen like a soaked puppy dog, squishing in your shoes as you walked. You were going to end this, you thought, once and for all.

Luckily, you were competitive. You weren’t going to quit until you win. So you hatched a plan to get both the boys, bad. So naturally, you called your favorite old man, Bobby Singer to help you carry out your plan. The first thing you set out to do was get Dean and Sam with small pranks, so they’d think you had done your piece. So, while they were out on a supply run, you put a bunch of Kool-Aid powder in Dean’s shampoo so his hair would be dyed blue temporarily, and you decided to go a little more elaborate with Sammy’s prank and cover everything in his room in plastic wrap and turn it upside down. After they had gotten the fill of your first little pranks, you began to plot. But your big prank, it was going to scare the shit out of them and that is exactly what you wanted. You called Bobby to help set up your elaborate ruse for the boys. You started by painting fake bloody handprints dragging along the floor, walls, and door frames down to the dungeon. Bobby help you set up the giant containers of honey and glitter to fall when a rope was pulled from Bobby’s spot next to you outside the door. Then, you decided to take it a step further and call Crowley and a demon in to assist you. This was going to be good. Real good. And you couldn’t wait to see Dean and Sam’s faces. You finished off your plan by leaving the bunker door open, and you threw your shoes across the hallway into the bunker so it would look like you kicked them off trying to fight someone off.

You took your spot outside the dungeon door and waited. Nearly twenty minutes later, you heard the yells of Dean and Sam echoing throughout the bunker “Y/N!” they kept yelling. They ran through the bunker, weapons at the ready, following the bloody trail you left in paint. You heard them rushing down the stairs, still calling out for you. Then, they followed the tracks right into the dungeon. Perfect, you thought, they were falling for this like a charm. Suddenly, you slammed the dungeon door shut and Sam and Dean were greeted with the sight of you outside the dungeon door, as your eyes flicked to pure onyx and Crowley appeared behind you. They were still yelling out for you with horror written across their faces as they got covered in honey, and that’s when the bucket of glitter tipped and covered them as well. The demon vanished out of you, and you were laughing so hard that Bobby had to open the dungeon door, to a very surprised and confused Sam and Dean.
“Idjits,” Bobby said as he stepped out of the way while both boys chased you through the bunker, trying to cover you in honey as well.
“Damnit, Y/N! You scared the crap out of us!” Dean screamed, chasing you through the halls and around corners.
“But Dean, you and Sammy look like pretty princesses all covered in glitter!” you yelled looking over your shoulder, and then you turned the corner and face planted into Sam’s chest, covering you in glitter and honey.
“And now you do too!” laughed Sam.
You hadn’t thought about how much of a bitch this was going to be to clean up, but all you could think about was how you definitely won. This prank wars was yours. However, you feared for the next one. Dean and Sam were a force to be reckoned with when they paired up. For now, getting this damn honey and glitter out of your hair was your main priority.

Eventual Dean X Reader

A/N: So I think this is shaping up to be a great series, I can’t wait to continue it :) With Love, Kat.
Warnings: language, angsty Dean

Read Part 1

Words: 2071

The sweet, earthy smell of coffee woke you up. As you rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs, you remembered the conversation you overheard last night. Dean told Sam he felt nothing more for you than his best friend, and you were going to have to learn to accept that. You were still wrapped up in Dean’s flannel that you stole yesterday, but you were in your bed. Dean must have carried you into your room like he usually does when you fall asleep on him. Last night though, he did something he never does. He slipped your shoes off, and took the time to take out your earrings and take off your necklace and place them gingerly on the nightstand next to your bed. And unbeknownst to you, Dean watched you peacefully sleeping for a few minutes before tucking your hair behind your ear and giving you a kiss on the cheek before he tip-toed out of your room.

As you got out of bed, you pulled on some socks and switched Dean’s flannel for your favorite big, slouchy sweater, keeping the same leggings from last night. Sleepily walking into the kitchen, you didn’t see Sam sitting at the table when you walked over to the coffee machine.
“Morning, Y/N” Sam said as he came over to help you reach your favorite mug, which he always put way too high on the shelf for you to reach. Since you missed him on your initial steps into the kitchen, he startled you.
You gasped and held a hand to your chest, “Jesus, Sammy. You scared me” and then nodded a thank you as he handed you your mug and gave you a chaste kiss on top of your head.
He just laughed as he opened up the fridge “Sorry Y/N, didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing up so early?” He asked, grabbing the eggs and turning to face you.
“I honestly didn’t even check what time it was, I just smelled the coffee and got up” you laughed as you leaned against the counter, sipping your coffee, letting the warmth of the cup seep into your hands.
“Well it’s 6:30 in the morning, you’re never up this early.”
“Holy crap, yeah I should still have three more hours of sleep at this point, sorry if I disturbed your peaceful morning, Sammy.” you said, realizing that Sam liked the morning because he got to be alone with his thoughts and the quiet for a few hours.
“Oh, Y/N it’s really fine. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, especially since I hardly ever sleep past 7” Sam said as he cooked his eggs. “Hey do you want some scrambled eggs?”
“No thanks, Sam. I can’t eat this early, I need time for my body to wake up” you laughed, hoisting yourself onto the counter so you could sit and talk with Sam while he made his breakfast. You two talked as you sipped your coffee and he finished off his breakfast and by the time the conversation died down, it was only 8:30. So you decided to confront Sam about the conversation him and Dean had the night before.

“So Sam” you started, staring down at your hands and fiddling with your fingers, “I heard what you asked Dean last night when you thought I was asleep.”
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t think you’d hear that.” He said, clearly uncomfortable.
You didn’t know what to say. Then suddenly before you could stop the words from coming out of your mouth, you blurted “Why would you think Dean is in love with me?”
Sam looked at you, eyes wide with surprise. “Y/N, isn’t it obvious? I’m pretty sure Dean only said that you were his best friend because he knew you weren’t asleep yet. I’m pretty sure he has a massive crush-“ and before Sam could finish his explanation, Dean waltzed into the kitchen.
“Morning Sammy, Y/N” he yawned as he walked over to get his coffee.
You cursed under your breath, hoping that you and Sam could continue this conversation later on.
“Um, well I gotta go…shower. Yeah, I’m gonna go shower” you said, quickly getting up and leaving the room.
“What’s up with her?” Dean asked, pointing at you as you bolted out of the room.
“You’re an idiot” Sam said, plainly.
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.”

As you pulled yourself into your room, closing the door and leaning back against it, tears started flowing from your eyes. You weren’t completely sure why, you just knew you had to cry. After sitting against the door crying for a few minutes, you decided you probably should actually take a shower. So you peeled off your clothing, letting the hot water run over you, relaxing your muscles and allowing you to breathe again. You let yourself take a long, slow shower. Taking care to massage your scalp as you shampooed your hair and letting your heart rate slow down and the water wash all traces of crying from your face. Afterwards, you dried yourself off and wandered into your room, taking your time to pick out a big baggy t-shirt and your favorite pair of yoga shorts. Comfort was key in your wardrobe, you didn’t exactly dress to impress. Wearing skirts and suits got really old, really quickly during hunts, so when you could you dressed comfortably. Plus, you were just going to be in the bunker today, nobody but Sam, Dean, and maybe Cas were going to see you.

You stayed in the library with Sam for most of the day, doing research on the hunt you were leaving for in a few days. Dean went out on a supply run earlier and was now working on Baby as he usually when you had long days off. Your stomach started growling like crazy, so loud Sam could hear it from across the large table in the library and he let out a chuckle.
“Okay, so I’m going to take that as a sign to make lunch. You want some, Sammy? I’m probably going to make salads for us and go ask Dean if he wants a sandwich” you said, standing and scooting your chair back to go to the kitchen.
“Yes please!” Sam yelled out to you as you walked out of the library.
So you went down the hall to get to the garage to ask Dean if he wanted lunch too. You pushed open the door to the garage and leaned against the door frame. Holy shit, you thought to yourself, Dean looked damn hot working on that car. You couldn’t help but admire him in his natural state, pampering Baby. You watched as he stared intently under the hood of the car, his biceps straining the sleeves of his t-shirt and his shirt clinging to his muscular chest from the light sheen of sweat that covered his body. You got so caught up in staring at how beautiful Dean was that you completely forgot why you came to the garage in the first place.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer,” Sam scoffed as he walked past, seeing you practically drooling over his brother. That got your attention. You snapped out of your fantasies, cleared your throat and stood a little straighter, finally asking Dean if he wanted a sandwich. You wondered how long you were standing there staring for.
“A solid five minutes,” Dean looked up at you, smirking.
Fuck. You had asked that out loud and he had noticed you were staring at him. Dean was such a smug bastard sometimes. So you scoffed, rolled your eyes and walked out of the garage and down the hall to the kitchen. After making yourself and Sam lunch, you decided to drop off Dean’s sandwich to him in the garage and grab him a beer. So you left yours and Sam’s salads on the counter, pulled a beer from the fridge and with it in one hand, and Dean’s lunch in the other, you headed down the hall into the garage. As you opened the door, you spotted Dean working on Baby still, and this time he was shirtless.
“Dean, what in the-“ you started as you walked down the stairs into the garage, but he cut you off. “I thought I’d give you something more to stare at when you came back” he said, with a wink and that signature smirk of his. Yep, he was a smug bastard alright. You’d never admit it because of how much his ego was already inflated, but that damn smirk made you weak in the knees every time he flashed it in your direction. Instead of revealing just how attracted you were to Dean, you simply rolled your eyes as you put down his food and beer on the table next to the work bench and walked out. You weren’t going to let his flirting get the best of you, after all you were just friends.

After eating lunch with Sam, you decided to watch a movie in the living room together. Your brains were hurting from all of the research you had been doing and you were basically done with the research anyway. So you curled up on the couch, trying to get comfortable while Sam popped in the movie you two had decided on, GoodFellas. Instead of his usual spot in the chair, Sam decided to sit on the couch next to you. You looked over at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion.
“Just trust me” he said, wrapping an arm around you, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. He was stretched out with his feet on the ottoman, while you were tucked under his arm, laying with your head on his chest and your legs lazily laid across the couch. Sam was so comfortable, he was like a giant teddy bear. His warmth and steady heartbeat was slowly lulling you to sleep, despite the action happening on the TV your eyes kept slipping closed, and eventually you let yourself succumb to the sleep that was weighing heavily on your eyelids. Sam let himself fall into sleep too, after seeing that you fell asleep.

“What the hell?!” Dean practically growled at the sight of you and Sam napping together, all cuddled up on the couch. He was so pissed that he dropped the lore books in his hands, letting them crash on the floor. Still groggy from sleep, you missed the smirk that creeped across Sam’s face.
“Dean?” you asked rubbing your eyes, your voice thick with sleep, “Are you okay?”
As you rose up off the couch, removing your head from it’s spot on Sam’s chest, Dean stormed out of the room before you could even see the expression on his face. Was it anger? Or jealousy? You didn’t know if he was pissed because it looked like you and Sam were crossing the boundary between friends and intimacy which would have changed the team dynamic, or if he was jealous of Sam because of how you were cuddled up to him, making the two of you look almost like a couple. Only you and Sam knew it wasn’t like that with you two, he saw you as a sister, his best friend. Your relationship was completely platonic from the start, and you both were content with it staying that way. Not to mention Sam knew how you felt about his brother.

“Well that was strange” you said, sitting upright on the couch now, confusion evident on your face as you stared over at the pile of books Dean left scattered across the floor.
You looked over at Sam, his eyes were still closed but he had a closed-mouth smile stretched across his face.
“Oh, that’s only the beginning sweetheart. This is going to get a lot better.” he said, letting himself settle back into the couch and trying for round two of his nap. Sam clearly had a plan, and you could only wonder what he was up to. Little did you know, he was scheming to let Dean prove to you how he felt. He knew you liked Dean, and he knew that Dean felt the same way. Watching you two dance around one another was extremely frustrating, so he was going to get his brother to admit his feelings the only way he knew how, by making him angry and brimming with jealousy.

Part 3

Tags: @jazminwinchester

Based on the song Colors by Halsey

Sam X Reader

A/N: A little song-based sobfest cause I listened to this song and felt a pang in my heart as I thought about Sammy. I think this is my first time writing an imagine without any dialogue at all. I actually got sad writing this y’all. Let me know how you feel about this one! Also tagging @supernatural-jackles cause this is my first super angsty/sad fic and I would love for her to read it

Warnings: language, blood, character death, angst, sadness (lots)

Words: 2500ish

Originally posted by spnsamwinchester

Your little brother never tells you but he loves you so
You said your mother only smiled on her TV show
You’re only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope
I hope you make it to the day you’re 28 years old

Sam. Sam fucking Winchester. He was everything you ever needed and you didn’t know you needed him until the day you set eyes on him. He made you swear to God that it was fate and you didn’t believe in either.

You never thought you would amount to anything. All you did was get drunk off whiskey in the local bar and smoke too much pot outside of your job at the record store on your break. There were old faded scars on your forearms from where you used to cut yourself and pretend it was okay. The weed helped, the alcohol didn’t. You were outside the store smoking a joint, staring down at your short fingernails that were painted black as always. You had on dark grey leggings, black hi-top converse, and a loose black long-sleeve hoodie that fell off one shoulder and exposed your ruby red bra strap. Your y/h/c hair was wavy and a little frizzy and you didn’t wear a lot of makeup, which brought out the innocence in you.

Even though you had too many piercings in your ears and tattoos all over your body, including on your fingers, it was just your form of expression. You didn’t really see yourself as a rebel, just a survivor. Your dad passed away when you were a kid and your mom had a cooking show. Off of the show she was an alright mom but she was off filming so much that you basically raised your brother who was eight years younger than you. You learned to cook so the two of you could eat, as fucked up as it was, you learned to cook from your mom. By watching her on TV. When you turned 21, you moved to a little town in Kansas to get away from everyone. You got a job working at an awesome little record store and you spent almost all of your time there.

You heard the bell ring, indicating someone came into the store. So you put out your joint on the brick wall, stuffing it into a little hollowed out hole in the wall and walking into the store.

You’re dripping like a saturated sunrise
You’re spilling like an overflowing sink
You’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece
And now you’re tearing through the pages and the ink

You opened the door to see a tall guy standing in the classic rock section. He had long, shaggy brown hair and when he looked up at you, you swore you got trapped in his hazel eyes. You swore you’d sign on the dotted line to sell your soul if it meant staying with the man whose name you would learn was Sam. And that’s exactly what you did.

You would drown in Sam if it meant you got to stay with him forever. He loved the innocence that you had, but he quickly took that away from you. He showed you a world filled with monsters and things that go bump in the night. He took you away from your sweet little town in Kansas. He turned you into a hunter.

Everything is blue
His pills, his hands, his jeans
And now I’m covered in the colors
Pulled apart at the seams
And it’s blue
And it’s blue

Sammy was blue. He had a deep, underlying sadness to him. He also reminded you of home, home was blue too. You loved being drowned in blue, only because it was completely Sam. You stopped wearing all black and stopped covering your scars. He made you whole when you felt your whole life like you were incomplete. You began wearing jeans and lighter colored shirts, you felt more comfortable in your own skin and took more care of yourself. You’d moved in with Sammy a few months back and everything was Sam. He ripped you open and turned you blue.

The mornings that you weren’t out on a hunt always started the same, you and Sammy got up and went for a run, came back and showered together and then you made him breakfast while he read lore books and looked for a hunt if you didn’t already have one planned. You always made extra pancakes and bacon for Dean because the smell of bacon and coffee woke him up without fail every single morning. Dean loved you too. He loved how you and Sammy loved one another. He loved how you and Sammy worked like a well oiled machine. The three of you were deadly when you hunted, and in perfect harmony as a family. There was so much love in your heart that you swore it would burst any day now. The fucked up part was that your whole life you were waiting for the other shoe to drop and now that you were with Sam, you never even took a second to think about it. And that’s exactly when it happened.

Everything changed the day Sammy died.

You were a mess. Dean was worse. It happened on a hunt. You and Dean were running through the woods trying to find the wendigo’s lair when you heard a soul-ripping scream cut through the woods so harshly you swore the trees were going to come down around you. You and Dean shared a glance before you sprinted in the direction of the sound, only to come upon the scene just as that big, fucked up, nasty monster was ripping his throat out. You screamed but no sound came out. The second the wendigo dropped his limp body to the forest floor, you lunged at it with gasoline in hand. Dean followed suit and immediately lit the fucker up with his lighter and it screamed. That scream was nothing compared to Sam’s.

When it was over, you crumpled to the ground in pain. You were a mess of tears and coughing sobs. You couldn’t catch your breath and you crawled over to your boyfriend’s body, limp and bloody. You lifted his shoulders and held him to your chest. His blood was still warm as it soaked into your shirt and stained your skin. You just kept crying. You were so sad that it was affecting you physically, it felt like someone had ripped your heart in two. You let your face fall to his forehead, kissing him on the lips one last time as his blood ran down your arms. Your body racked with sobs as you clutched him to your chest, tears mixing with the thick red substance that was now coating you and Sam.

You don’t remember Dean picking you up and helping you haul Sam’s body to the impala. You don’t remember burying him in the field across from the bunker. You don’t remember screaming at Dean not to burn his body. You didn’t realize that you sat on your bed the entire night weeping until your body couldn’t produce any more tears.

The sun peeked through your blinds and you looked at the clock, it was noon. The next thing you knew, you were storming out of the bunker with a little wooden box that you swore you’d never use. See, in the box was a picture of you, dirt from the graveyard, and the bone from a black cat. By the time you had gotten to the crossroads it was almost night time.

The demon caught you by surprise, with his sickeningly sweet voice. He wasn’t very tall and he had black hair and a black, trimmed beard. His accent was slightly Scottish and he called himself Crowley. He said my dear far too often and made you feel like you needed a shower with his tone. You told him what you wanted, Sam for your soul. He laughed at you, the harsh chuckle hitting your bones. He gave you five years. You were lucky, he said. He gave you five years instead of just one ‘cause you were a pretty little thing. He couldn’t give you the full ten though, ‘cause it was for a Winchester, after all.

You and Dean were sitting on the couch in silence. Your head was in his lap and you weren’t crying, you were barely sad. Dean though, he had no idea what you did. He would be pissed if he found out you signed a deal for Sam. But your explanation would be that him and Sam needed one another. You just needed Sam, they didn’t need you. Dean’s hand was running through your hair, combing through it with his fingers. The feeling was finally calming you down.

Dean knew just how to do that now. The second you came back from the crossroads, you walked through the door of the bunker and collapsed into a panic attack. By now Dean had calming you down to a science. He would pick you up and lay you down on the couch, lifting your head lightly and laying it on his lap. He’d stroke your hair while he hummed Stairway to Heaven. A lot of the time you’d fall asleep there. When you’d wake up, Dean was laying down on the couch and your head was on his chest while your body was nestled between his legs. If he was asleep you’d usually just lay your head back down and let his heartbeat lull you back to sleep. If he was awake, you’d get up and make the two of you food and turn on some AC/DC. You two bonded over your love for classic rock when you first met. Dean was over the moon that you worked in a record store and had ‘access to all the best stuff.’ His words. You smiled at the memory.

You let your mind wander as your head stayed in Dean’s lap, but that was short lived when the bunker door made it’s signature metal-on-metal sound as it opened. You and Dean shot up off the couch, standing to see who was coming through the door. But you already knew. It was Sam.

Everything is grey
His hair, his smoke, his dreams
And now he’s so devoid of color
He don’t know what it means
And he’s blue
And he’s blue

Something was different. Wrong. Sammy came through the door and you ran up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he just kind of… patted you on the back. His name left your mouth in a whisper. He looked down at you and the life in his eyes seemed deadened. You left Dean to be with his brother again, avoiding the elder sibling’s questioning looks and rushed to the dungeon in the basement of the bunker.

Once you were in the dungeon you collected up all the items for a summoning ritual. That sickeningly sweet Scottish voice appeared from behind you once again. You simply glared at him before lunging, your hand and the demon knife to his throat. You demanded answers. You knew something was wrong with Sammy. That stupid, nasty Scottish bastard told you that he never swore he’d return Sam in one piece. He still had Sam’s fucking soul. Just as you went to swipe across his throat with the demon knife he vanished and you sprinted upstairs to find your soulless fuck of a boyfriend and his unsuspecting brother.

It had been a few weeks and Sammy was so distant. Insisting that you and Dean stop calling him Sammy. He was so rude, soulless Sam had no goddamn filter, which was how Dean found out about what happened, and you were almost tired of it but when you’d go into the room and he would be asleep for the two or three hours a night that he actually slept he looked so peaceful and beautiful and you fell for him all over again, but as soon as he was awake, all of that ended. It had gotten to the point where you were avoiding him altogether. When he was around, everything was gloom and doom and depressing. He was so mean and callous about everything in life and he never had anything nice to say to you, he wouldn’t cuddle you and he’d barely touch you anymore.

You’d started sleeping in Dean’s room. In Dean’s bed. Over the few weeks that Sam was gone you two had gotten so close that you honestly didn’t even have to knock anymore when you snuck into his room at night to climb under his covers. The second you got under the sheets, his arms would be around you, holding you tight to his chest and breathing in the smell of your hair. You loved his spicy, woodsy, delicious smell and the feeling of his strong arms around you and his solid torso pressed against you, but you couldn’t help but feel like all of this was so, so wrong.

Everything was Dean. And Dean wasn’t blue like you, he was red. He was lustful and powerful and full of life. You remembered the first time he kissed you. It was soft and warm and so goddamn Dean. You let yourself get consumed with Dean, not even bothering to sneak around anymore. The two of you would give one another a quick kiss in the kitchen and cuddle while you watched movies and make breakfast together on Sundays.

You were red and you liked me ‘cause I was blue
You touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky
And you decided purple just wasn’t for you

Dean was acting weird today. You thought nothing of it until he told you that the two of you couldn’t be together. That you had to leave. That he had to fix Sammy and to do that you couldn’t be around.

Your lilac quickly turned back to blue as sadness overcame you. You were full of blue. Too full. You packed your bags and decided that you’d leave immediately. After two days of walking, your legs were tired and your blue turned to black. You got to another crossroads and stood there, contemplating. You decided to bury the second box you made a while back. You sat crosslegged in the center of the crossroads and dug, letting the dirt collect under your nails, enjoying the cool feeling of it on the delicate skin of your fingers.

That Scottish voice came to you once more and you surrendered to it. You begged him for rebirth, asked for forgiveness. You claimed he already had your soul and that he should keep it, so long as you could stay black and void of feeling. He agreed.

You felt the sadness leave you and the darkness overcome you and you shut your eyes as the man’s hand clamped around your throat. Oxygen was gone from your lungs and you were struggling for breath when he finally kissed you, sealing the deal. When your eyes reopened, they were glossy, and onyx just like you. You no longer had sadness for Sam, you no longer had love for Dean. You had yourself, and the deep, deep darkness in your heart.

Finally you had a color all your own. You weren’t painted by someone else.

Drabble request from @asfaraslifegets for

3. “Wait, don’t go! What’s your name?”
26. “Oh, it’s on sweetheart.”
38. “How long have you been sitting/standing there?”

Want to send a request? See the drabble list here!

Dean X Reader

A/N: I love writing Dean! Especially fluffy Dean :) With love, Kat

Words: 1327 (lol what are word limits even)

You can still remember the first time you met Dean Winchester.

—2 Years Ago—

You were sitting on the most uncomfortable bar stool you’d ever sat on, nursing the whiskey in your hand and listening to the Black Sabbath song coming over the speakers. You were in a pair of black ripped jeans, an old AC/DC shirt that was faded and a black, grey, and red flannel with combat boots and your hair in a messy bun. You heard the door to the bar open and turned your head slightly so you could see who was walking in. Two men, and good god were they beautiful. Hunters, for sure. You could see by the way they surveyed the bar. The shorter of the two came up to your side,
“This seat taken?” he asked, a smirk on his face.
“Not yet, why don’t you take it, sweetheart?” you smiled up at him, letting the alcohol make you more friendly. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to take this man home tonight.

The two of you talked for hours, well, you let him do most of the talking. You found out his name was Dean, and the other man was his brother Sam. The immediate attraction to Dean was clear, he was strong, gruff, and he looked into your eyes when you talked as if nothing else in the world mattered.

“So, you’re a hunter?” you said, sipping your whiskey.
“Wha- uhh, yeah. Deer hunting is pretty common out here” he said, avoiding eye contact and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Dean” you said, shifting to face him, “I’m a hunter too.”
You chuckled as you pulled up the hem of your shirt to reveal a silver knife in a sheath attached to your belt loop. His eyes lingered on the small patch of skin that showed when you lifted your shirt.
“So Dean, you wanna get out of here?” you asked, making your intentions clear by the hand that landed on his thigh.
“Well, listen here’s the thing. I don’t want to move that fast with you, I know that seems crazy because you’re gorgeous and asking me to go back to your place, but I really feel a connection with yo-“ and before he could finish you cut him off.
“Dean, I’ve heard about enough. I was just trying to have a good time.”
You patted him on the shoulder, downed the rest of your whiskey and turned to leave the bar when you heard him say,
“Wait, don’t go! What’s your name?”
You laughed to yourself, realizing you never told him your name.
“Y/N. My name is Y/N” you said, writing your number on a napkin and handing it to the handsome green-eyed hunter as you left him slack-jawed on your way out of the bar.

—Present Day—

You had been living with the Winchesters for over a year now and Dean was as flirty as ever. You knew it was just his personality so you brushed it off and didn’t let it get to you. Even though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish a drunken night would lead to you and Dean finally sleeping together.

You padded into the kitchen and saw Dean making his coffee, so you went over to make some hot chocolate. Grabbing the whipped cream out of the fridge, an idea sprang into your head.
“Hey Dean” you said, trying to get him to turn around.
“Yeah, Y/N?” he asked as he turned to face you.
When he turned around, you sprayed whipped cream on his nose and burst out into laughter. Dean stood there in shock for a few seconds before the most devilish smirk you’d ever seen stretched across his face.
“Oh, it’s on sweetheart” he said, grabbing the spray hose next to the sink and spraying you down until you were soaked.
“Dean!” you laughed, shaking your hands to rid them of water. The second he put the nozzle down you reached for it, spraying him with water so he was soaking too. You couldn’t help but appreciate the way his wet shirt clung to his muscular chest and abs.

Dean then grabbed the cocoa powder you were going to use to make your hot chocolate and poured half the container out over you, covering you in it and it stuck to you because you were still soaking wet.
“Dean, you jerk!” you yelled, tackling him to the ground and pouring cocoa powder onto him. You two were a wet, chocolatey, powdery mess and you didn’t really care one bit. These times were rare with Dean, and you loved them because he showed his true colors and let loose every once and a while with you. The two of you were laughing and wrestling all over the kitchen floor, each of you smearing chocolate all over the other.

You both stopped laughing when Dean was on top of you, looking into your eyes. His expression was different, more serious. You were underneath him and he was propped on one elbow, hovering over you.
“Dean” you breathed out, looking into his emerald eyes and seeing his pupils blown with some emotion you hadn’t faced with Dean before.
“Y/N” he practically whispered, glancing down at your lips for a moment before slowly leaning in. Was Dean freakin’ Winchester going to kiss you? You had dreamed of this moment many times before, but never thought it would happen in such a light-hearted, euphoric moment between the two of you. Little did you know, that’s when Dean loved you the most, when you were giggling and carefree. When his lips were mere centimeters from yours, he said something in the most sincere voice you’d ever heard him speak in.
“I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Dean” you smiled, and you did love him. He was your everything, your anchor, your best friend. Your pleasant thoughts were interrupted by him speaking again.
“No, I don’t think you get it. I’m in love with you” he said, tucking a cocoa-coated strand of hair behind your ear.
“Dean, I…”
“it’s okay. I know you probably don’t feel the same” he said, moving to get off of you.
“No, wait” you said, pulling him by his shirt so he could return to his position hovering over you, “I’m in love with you too Dean.”

As Dean leaned in to finally kiss you, you were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.
“Hey guys” Sam said, a wide grin across his face while leaning against the doorframe.
“Oh, uh, hey Sam” you said, a blush rising quickly on your cheeks.
“How long have you been standing there?” Dean asked, clearing his throat and moving to stand up, extending a hand for you to stand with him. Dean positioned himself oddly behind you, as if he was hiding from Sam.
“Long enough to know that the reason you’re hiding behind Y/N is because you have a hard-on” Sam said, laughing. Your eyes went wide and your face turned crimson as you whipped around to see the very obvious tent in Dean’s sweatpants.
“Oh my god, why do you have a boner?” you asked, half shocked, half smug. You knew it was at least partly because of you.
“I-I, uhh.. You’re all wet and your shirt is sticking to your boobs and then we were wrestling and when I was over top of you, every shift you’d make with your hips was basically rubbing right against me” Dean said, shuffling his feet and looking at the floor.
“Well, I’m gonna go get cleaned up” you said, smiling and leaving the kitchen.

You popped your head back in and looked at the boys,
“Dean, are you just gonna stand there or are you going to join me in the shower?” you winked.
“Oh, hell yeah!” Dean said, smiling and chasing after you into the bathroom in his room.

Dean X Reader?

A/N: My first imagine, please be gentle! Haha. With Love, Kat

Words: 1507

Two weeks. You never thought it would be this long until you got to see Dean and Sam again, but here you were alone in the bunker’s library reading lore books out of pure, unadulterated boredom. You decided to be the one to hang back and do research on this hunt, especially because of how sore you were from that ghoul slamming you against the wall on the last one. It was approaching winter, so the temperature in the bunker could easily be described as chilly. After getting uncomfortably cold in the leggings and thin t-shirt that you were wearing, you set off to your room to grab some socks and a sweater. After putting on your favorite pair of fuzzy socks, an idea strikes you. So you pad your way into Dean’s room quietly, as if he were in the bunker somewhere, and sneak one of his heaviest, comfiest flannels. Stealing the boys’ clothes was nothing new, but if you were being honest, you liked Dean’s clothes the best. Between his intoxicating scent and how soft his shirts always were, Sam’s giant clothes were no match to the way Dean’s clung to you in all the right places. In fact, if you were being even more honest, you had been harboring a crush on Dean since the beginning.

—2 Years Ago—

“Hey Y/N, can you grab table six for me? I’m swamped!” said your co-worker and best friend, Alyssa. “Yeah sure Lyss, I’ll head over there now.” As you rounded the corner in the diner you saw the two men at table six, and damn were you happy you got stuck with them. The gorgeous blonde one with the green eyes and intricate freckles and the taller, more muscular brunette one with hazel eyes seemed to be in deep conversation when you approached. “Hello, can I get you boys something to drink?” you asked, smiling first as to not interrupt them too briskly. “Coffee” they said in unison. “Okay, great I’ll be right back.” And then you were off to fill their mugs with coffee.

After serving them their food and coffee, they left you an extremely generous tip and the green eyed one walked out the door with a wink and an award-winning smile. Hours that felt like years passed and then the clock finally said 10:30 pm. Thankful that your shift was almost over, you hurried to clean the last few tables and help Alyssa with the closing duties. Finally grabbing your jacket and purse, you held the door for Alyssa and locked up the diner. As you and Alyssa walked down the dimly lit street to go home, a strange snarling caught your attention. “Did you hear that?” you asked, ignoring what Alyssa was talking about. “I didn’t hear anything Y/N, I think you’re hearing things!” she said as she let out a laugh.

That’s when it happened, when your entire life changed in one moment. Suddenly, Alyssa was snatched away from your side and slammed into the brick wall of the building you were walking by. In horror, you watched as Alyssa was torn into by whatever beast was attacking her, your own scream ringing in your ears. This thing was big, and scary, and looked as if it was… a werewolf? No. That wasn’t possible. Werewolves don’t exist except for in stories and movies. And yet here you were, watching your best friend be killed by some horrifying monster. Then, they came out of nowhere, the men from earlier at the diner. The taller one pulled you away and into his arms as the green eyed one tore the monster away from your friend, shooting it twice in the chest. As if upon reflex, your legs carried you to your best friends side, tears clouding your vision as your heart broke, for she was dead. There was no saving her. You felt a large, warm hand on your shoulder and looked up to see the shorter man staring down at you, with a knowing look, like he had been in that exact position before. “What was that thing?” is all you can manage to squeak out, looking over at the monster slumped on the sidewalk. “That was a werewolf. I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sammy.”

That was all it took to convince you to leave your life behind and become a hunter. After a long talk with Sam and Dean in a nearby bar, they had told you everything. Their stories, and why they were hunters. And you never looked back.

—Present Time—

After stealing Dean’s flannel, you realized how hungry you were. Deciding to treat yourself tonight, you were going to make a big dinner and make Dean a pie, because you loved that dopey smile that came across his face when he found out there was pie around. So you put on some good old AC/DC and went to get cooking. Lucky for you, you had all of the ingredients to make your infamous lasagna, which the boys loved too. With a pie in the oven, and you midway through preparing the meat sauce, you hear the heavy bunker door open and slam shut, indicating that your favorite boys were home. You hadn’t realized just how much the scent of your cooking had permeated the entire bunker until you heard Dean exclaim “YES! Y/N is cooking!” and come hurrying into the kitchen, with definite intentions of sticking his finger in whatever you were making. As Sam rounded the corner coming into the kitchen, he said “Thank god you’re cooking dinner Y/N, Dean and I were just talking about how hungry we were in the car,” planting a chaste kiss on the top of your head.
“Of course, Sammy. You know I love cooking for you guys, especially with how much you compliment my food!” you let out a laugh. A blush rose in your cheeks as Dean put one hand on your hip and the other snaked around to grab a spoon to taste the sauce you were working on.
“Dean! What have I told you about tasting my food before it’s done!” you said, giggling.
Dean replied after making a quite satisfied face at the taste of your cooking, “I know Y/N, but it’s always just so good. I can’t hel- Oh my god, is that a pie?” He said pointing towards the oven and turning the light in it on. “OH MY GOD, Sammy! Y/N made pie!” He yelled and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. That man was like a kid in a candy store with pie, and you loved every second of it.

Dean and Sam had headed off to shower and settle back in after their two week hunt, and when dinner was finished cooking you set the table and grabbed beers for the three of you. “Sammy! Dean! Come out and eat, dinner is done!” you yelled, confident that the hard walls of the bunker would echo it so the boys heard. Within minutes, Sam and Dean were joining you at the table and it turned out to be a great night. After dinner, you had cleared the dishes and joined the boys on the couch with more beers and spent the night talking and laughing.
“So Y/N, how about some of that pie?” Dean asked with a smirk. “Yeah sure, Dean-o. I’ll be right back” you said, smiling and planting a kiss on his cheek. You could swear you saw a slight blush creep onto his cheeks, but chalked it up to all of the alcohol in his system. Coming back with three plates full of apple pie that you warmed in the microwave and then topped with vanilla ice cream, the boys looked up at you and couldn’t help but smile. This was your life, they were your family, and you wouldn’t trade this for the world.

After hours more of talking, laughing, and drinking, sleep was invading your thoughts quickly. You decided to settle your head on Dean’s shoulder, his arm wrapping around you easily, this was nothing new, Dean Winchester was your best friend. He kissed you on the head, knowing you’d be asleep soon and continued watching TV. Sam was sitting on the chair nearby on his laptop, doing some research. Once Sam thought you were asleep, he spoke up, “So Dean, when are you going to tell Y/N that you’re in love with her?”
“Sammy, get your head out of your ass, I am not in love with her. I love her, yeah, but she’s my best friend” Dean said with a scoff and sipped on his beer.
That was it. That was all the confirmation that you needed that Dean loved you as a friend, and nothing more. It hurt your heart a little bit to hear those words, having the possibility that he felt more for you was better than nothing at all, and now that was gone. But sleep was weighing heavily on you and you decided to just go to bed. After all, Dean’s scent was lulling you to sleep and his warm arm around you was just the comfort you needed.

Part 2

Drabble request from @spn-mudkip for

9. “Where the fuck did you get that many balloons?”
10. “I left you alone for 30 minutes, how are you drunk already?”
15. “I wanted to attempt a romantic gesture.”

Want to send a request? See the drabble list here!

Dean X Reader

Warnings: language, angst, drunkenness

Words: 1011

“He’s not coming, Sammy” you sniffed, as tears began to well in your eyes.
“Y/N, I’m sure he just got held up with something.”
“No, he forgot” you said, wiping your eyes, not caring about your smeared makeup.

Today was yours and Dean’s two year anniversary. Dean was off on a solo hunt to let off some steam, promising that he would be home for your anniversary. It was 11 pm and he was nowhere to be found, but you didn’t even bother texting him. The hunt was over, he’d texted you earlier about it, and you thought he would be home by 7 tonight. So Sam was sitting with you, waiting for Dean to come home. You got all dolled up for nothing, you thought. Your hair was perfectly curled, your makeup was natural but looked great, and you were wearing this amazing dress that you bought just for today.

“Sam I’m gonna go get changed” you said, standing up and wiping your eyes once more before you left the kitchen. Sam gave you a sad smile before you left the room.

You shuffled into the room and stripped yourself of your dress and your nice lingerie. You put on a sports bra and a loose tank top and some plain pink panties and leggings. You put your curled hair into a ponytail and carefully removed your makeup, trying to make it not sting your eyes any further.

Once you were back in the kitchen, you pulled out a bottle of whiskey, not even bothering to use a glass. You just drank right from the bottle. Sam excused himself to take a shower, promising to be back once he was done. You moved around the kitchen, wrapping up the food you made, blowing out the candles, and washing the dishes. All throughout your clean up, you were drinking more and more whiskey. However, you decided not to let yourself cry anymore. You cried enough over this for tonight. You had a great night planned for Dean. His room was filled with balloons and you and Sam took most of the day to fill the garage with as many balloons as possible. You cooked him his favorite meal, dressed in a new dress, and even bought new lingerie for him. He remembered your one year, so you figured he’d remember this one, but you were wrong.

You slumped down on the couch, bottle of whiskey still in hand and damn it was starting to affect you. You turned on some CSI, because let’s face it, who doesn’t love crime dramas, and you sat and drank.

“Y/N?” Sam called out from the kitchen.
“I’m in the l-living r-room” you hiccuped out.
“Hey, you alright?” he said as he walked over to you, his hair still damp from his shower.
“Sammy!” you jumped up, immediately regretting that decision because your world started to spin and you stumbled into his arms.
“I left you alone for 30 minutes, how are you drunk already?” Sam asked, chuckling. Instead of speaking, you just pointed over to the now mostly empty bottle of whiskey.
“Jesus, Y/N! You housed that fucking bottle! Let’s get you some food sweetheart, you should eat since you drank so much.”
“But Sammy, can I stay on the couch while you make me food? I’m sleepy” you said, curling into a ball on the couch. Sam laughed at your actions and said,
“Sure, Y/N. You just rest and watch your show.” He patted you on the head and went to the kitchen to make you some food. He settled on microwaving some Pizza Rolls. You needed fatty, greasy food with how much whiskey you drank.

When Sam came back into the living room, you perked up and smiled at him. Then you two heard the bunker door open. It was nearly 2 am.

“Dean?” you called out.
“Hey, sweetheart. Why are you and Sammy still awake?” he asked, coming to kiss you on the head.
“Well, I’m drunk” you slurred, “and Sammy boy here is taking care of me” you smiled up at Sam as you popped a Pizza Roll into your mouth.
“Why are you drunk, sweetie?” Dean asked, moving the basically empty bottle of whiskey away from you.
“I wanted to attempt a romantic gesture, Dean-o. You forgot our anniversary. So I drank, yanno to like forget or whatever.”
“Oh my god, I totally forgot” he said, clearly looking guilty. You knew Dean was a good man and he was also human, which means he forgot things sometimes.
“I figured as much” you said, trying not to sound too disappointed, “I know it wasn’t on purpose, babe. I’m not going to hold it against you. I just drank because I was sad.”

After getting the living room all cleaned up, you and Dean went to go to bed. You forgot you filled his entire room with balloons. He opened the door and was assaulted with hundreds of balloons coming out of the door. He burst into laughter.
“What the shit, Y/N? Did you do this?” he kept laughing.
“I totally forgot about this” you giggled, “If you think this is a lot, check the garage.”

You and Dean walked through the halls to the garage and he opened the door, looking down at the insane amount of balloons that were covering the floor.
“Where the fuck did you get that many balloons?” Dean laughed, holding his ribs now.
“The party store, duh!” you giggled, falling on the floor from your laughter and your drunkenness. Dean picked you up from the floor and kissed you on the head.

“I know I kind of fucked up by forgetting, but this would have been amazing sweetheart. Thank you so much for putting all this effort in just for me. I love you.”
“Love you too, Dean” you said, and then you smirked, “you should’ve seen the dress and lingerie I got” you said as you walked away.
“Hey wait! Show me them tomorrow!” Dean called out as he chased after you to the bedrooms.

Single!Jensen x Reader

Originally posted by daengerously-intaense

Previous Chapters (Series Masterlist)

A/N: Makes sense I would come back with an absolute whopper of a chapter for WIB, it’s basically 75% of the requests in my ask box! Enjoy chapter 8 my lovelies, feel free to message me about being tagged, or any other Marvel, SPN, or GoT requests you may have :) P.S. to those of you who have stuck around since chapter 7 came out ALMOST A YEAR AGO, thank you. Sincerely. From the bottom of my heart. It means the world to me. Tags are under the cut as usual, my babies.

Warnings: Language (duh), tinge of jealousy, unexpected confessions

Words: Idek I forgot to do a word count.

Hungover was the understatement of the century.

Actually, you were pretty positive you were dead.

“Y/N?” it sounded like whoever was calling you was miles away and the sound of their voice still ricocheted around the inside of your skull like a bullet trying to escape.

“Go ‘way… ‘m dying” you groaned as you attempted to rub the sleep and liquor out of your eyes, to no avail.

“You’re not dying you giant baby, now get up we have the whole day off and the cast wants to have a picnic!” you still weren’t able to quite decipher who the voice was, definitely male, but way too freakin’ chipper this early in the morning.

Wait.

What time was it?

Finally rolling out of a bed that was too large to be yours, you attempted to focus your eyes on the clock, squinting and straining until you saw the glowing numbers finally become clear: 3:27 pm.

“FUCK! I slept for 12 hours?!” you shot up from your slumped position, immediately regretting it and sitting right back down because of the intense headache you were now sporting which was undoubtedly caused by the fact that you drank more than your fair share of Jameson and Chuck knows what else last night.

“Hah, you sure did, killer” the voice was finally recognizable and you looked across the room to see a very amused Jared standing in the doorway.

“Fuck off, Jare. Why am I in your guest room anyway?” the realization of where you were was starting to piece itself together.

“Well, after you and Jensen got in that fight last night, you were so upset that you kept drinking so I stayed with you until the bar closed and then I took you home here. You were pretty quiet though, couldn’t even get you to smile at my dumb dad jokes” a sympathetic smile was beginning to stretch its way across Jared’s face.

“I’m not going to lie, I don’t remember anything after Jensen and I dancing together” you felt so ashamed and embarrassed about the night before and you didn’t even know what happened, you just knew it was bad.

“Yeah, I figured as much Y/N. But listen,” Jared sat down on the bed next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, “I called Jay and he doesn’t remember the fight either, okay? So you guys can just put it behind you.”

You leaned into Jared, staring blankly at the floor. Every single part of you desperately didn’t want to face your colleagues at a picnic because of the guilt and shame you felt about getting so drunk and disorderly in front of all of them. What if you had been rude to them? Or said someone’s private business out loud? The possibilities were endless and your anxiety was having an absolute field day with them.

“My car at the bar still?”

“Yep, want a ride over there so you can go home and shower before our picnic?”

“Please.”

–A Few Hours Later–

Arriving at the park for the picnic with the rest of the cast and crew, you grabbed your jacket and your phone tumbled out of the pocket onto the floor of your car.

“Shit.” you mumbled to yourself as you reached across the car, fingers stretching to try and grab your device.

Finally grabbing a hold of it, you unlocked your phone and began to scroll through your messages and calls, checking to see if you had completely humiliated yourself the night before. Luckily no outgoing calls or messages had happened while you were blacked out, but you had one text and phone call from Jensen and one text from an unrecognized number. So you checked the texts.

Jensen, 3:44 am: Y/N? I’m sorry for what I said. Hope you can forgive me.

Unknown Number, 5:30 am: Hey, Y/N. I hope this is the right number haha. It’s Alexander from the bar last night. I’d like to see you again, hopefully soon.

“What the shit? Alexander?” racking your whiskey-clouded brain for memories of an Alexander from the bar, you were coming up empty.

Incoming Call… Misha Collins

“Hey Mish, what’s up?”

“Hey, quit sitting in your car and get over here! Everyone’s waitin’ for ya!”

You look up to see Misha waving his arm wildly in your direction by a picnic table.

“Haha, alright I’m coming. Sorry for the delay” you hung up the phone and got out of the car, swallowing your anxious thoughts and walking over to your friends who have basically become family by now. You stepped out of the car and began to walk over to your friends.

You hadn’t put much thought into your appearance, being mostly concerned about not feeling like death anymore. You were wearing a simple navy maxi dress with a v neck and a few extra straps on the front and back as decoration. It felt simple, but it was a casual day any way. You stopped in your tracks to send a quick response to this Alexander character to see what had happened last night.

To Alexander, 6 pm: Hey, this is embarrassing.. I don’t really remember much of last night.

Shoving your phone into your purse, you come up to your friends. Misha, Mark, and Richard were all in a circle laughing and joking off to your right. Jared, Gen, their kids and JJ were all sitting on the ground near some picnic tables playing a game of duck duck goose. Finally, you looked over to Jensen and… wait who was that? Jensen was talking to some really gorgeous blonde who was most definitely prettier and skinnier than you. Typical.

Settling for not wanting to rip your hair out, you walked over to Misha, Mark, and Richard and were immediately enveloped in a giant hug from all three men.

“Hah, hey guys how are ya?”

“Just lovely now that you’re here” the Englishman’s voice came out as smooth as caramel.

“I second that sweet pea, we almost thought you ditched us!” Richard gave you a big goofy grin and you couldn’t help but laugh and lean back into Misha who was still hugging you from behind.

“I could never ditch my boys, even if you are a lot to handle sometimes” you laughed as Misha rested his chin on your head.

“Sometimes?” a deep but whiskey-smooth voice came from behind you.

You turned to see none other than Jensen, and the nameless blonde he was talking to earlier standing tucked close under his arm.

“So Mish, where’s Victoria and the kids?” you turned to ask your friend who was still quite close by your side.

“Ah” he noticed your very obvious attempt to ignore Jensen and decided to indulge you, “they’re over visiting Victoria’s mom while the kids have some time off of school.”

“Oh, okay. I miss their little faces, especially Westy!” you couldn’t help but grin at the thought of Misha’s little rascals. They were so much like him, you had no idea how Victoria dealt with basically having three children.

After Jensen and the blonde lost interest in the conversation and went over to Jared, Gen, and the kids, Misha turned to you and frowned.

“It isn’t polite to blatantly ignore people, Y/N”

“I didn’t see you acknowledging them either, Dmitri” you chided back.

“Whoa, pullin’ out the big guns with the real first names” Richard laughed, clapping you both on the shoulder.

“Who’s the new girl anyway? Never seen her in our friend group before” you crossed your arms over your chest and glanced quickly in new girl’s direction.

“She’s our temporary key grip while Anna is on vacation” Mark spoke without even looking in your direction, he was too busy watching the sickly show that new girl was putting on because Jensen was giving her attention.

Okay maybe it wasn’t that bad, but the inkling of jealousy coursing through your blood was making you want to vomit just looking over at the two of them giggling and flirting.

Suddenly overcome with feelings you couldn’t shake, almost all of them horribly negative, you decided to get your things without a word to anyone and start walking back over to your car. You ignored the calls from your friends as you swiftly left the park so that you could return to the comfort of your own home.

–The Longest Drive of Your Life, Ever–

Pushing through the front door to your apartment, you tossed your keys onto the table near the door, hung up your jacket and your purse and skulked into your bedroom to change into some sweatpants.

After getting comfortable on the couch, you popped open a bottle of wine, not even bothering to grab a glass, and started drinking while you searched for a show to watch on Hulu.

Settling on This Is Us, ‘cause fuck it you needed a good cry, you settled into your couch with your fuzzy blanket.

The ringing on your phone grabbed your attention and you looked over to see that Gen was trying to FaceTime you.

“Hey Gen” you sniffled as you opened the video chat.

“Hey love, you alright?”

“I will be.. Just got overwhelmed today”

“I get it, Y/N. I’m sorry about that, I wish I could help you” it was obvious from the tone in her voice that she felt bad for you, but she was being oddly vague.

“I know you would have Gen, it’s just hard for me being in love with Jensen and him so obviously not feeling the same way.. Huh. That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud”

Suddenly you see Jensen’s very shocked face come into focus in the background of Gen’s video chat screen.

“You… You’re…” he struggled to find words and before he got the chance, you slammed the end button on the screen and practically threw your phone across the room.

–One Hour Later–

After hyperventilating for what seemed like a year, you finally collected yourself enough to go check your phone and see what fuckery had occurred since you fully admitted you were in love with Jensen while he was listening.

Jensen, 7:40 pm: Y/N. Answer. Now.

5 Missed Calls - Jensen Ackles

Jensen, 7:56 pm: Y/N please.. we need to talk about what you said.

Jensen, 7:57 pm: Did you really mean it?

Jensen, 7:57 pm: Y/N. Answer me.

Jensen, 8:32 pm: Please talk to me Y/N. Just… please.

Jensen, just now: Y/N your read receipts are on… I know you’re reading these. Please just call me so we can talk about this. Or I can come to your place so we can talk in person. Either way, we need to clear the air about your feelings.

“Oh we need to clear the air about MY feelings?” you practically shouted out loud to yourself, “Yeah the fuck right, Jensen. My feelings are out in the open. Talk about MY goddamn feelings… I don’t think so. Not with you. I don’t need to get rejected again.”

To Jensen, just now: No thanks. Nothing to say.

What a way to start a mini filming hiatus… Maybe a few weeks away from the boys would clear your head a little bit.

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