1.1 Pilot

1.1 Pilot

Dean x Sam x gn! Winchester reader

Summary: Ever want to be included in the show, as a Winchester? Wait no more. Follow y/a, Sam and Dean through 15 seasons of saving people, hunting things the family business.

A/n - I am going to attempt to do all 15 seasons, please be patient with me. This took two days to write. Eeeek, I hope it’s ok!

warnings: Follows the first episode of the first season. Death. Fire.

word count - 3119

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“Night Sammy, Night y/n” a young Dean states from his mother’s arm. Mary gently lowers her older son, allowing him to kiss his younger sibling’s goodnight. Mary smiles, her eyes lighting up with the love she holds for her three children, looking over her shoulder she spots her husband, John, and smiles. John flips of the light, whispering to his youngest children “If you two sleep through the night, you can have Dean’s room”, Mary chuckles overhearing her husband before tucking Dean into bed and placing a kiss on his temple, “Good night love” she softly whispers, a smile on her face.

A few hours later, Mary awakes with a start. The twins screaming coming through the baby monitor kept next to her on the bedside table next to her and John’s wedding photo. Mary sits up, sleep still embracing her, touching the mattress next to her she can’t find her husband, smiling when she realises her husband is looking after the youngest children. She pads her way down the corridor rubbing sleep out her eyes, pushing the twin’s door open. She smiles as she spots John’s figure over Sam’s crib. “John?” She questions “Are they hungry?”. There’s no response, apart from a quick and sudden shhh. Mary rolls her eyes at her husbands antics, taking a step back and turning around heading back to her warm bed. Reaching the bedroom, she soon realises that there is a light, a slight glimmer coming from downstairs. She’s cautious. Bare feet shuffling down the stairs, before turning the corner, a movie is playing out on the Tv lighting up the sitting room; and sat in front of the tv asleep, slumped over in his chair is John.

Fear! It’s all she can feel as Mary blurts out “Oh my god” before bolting up the stairs back up to the twin’s room. She bursts the door open, the door bouncing on its hinges swinging roughly, urgently flicking the switch, the brightness blinding her slightly before her eyes adjust. Whatever is in the room scares her, the colour drains out of Mary’s face. She starts panicking, hyperventilating.

“…Get away from them…” She all but whispers, before letting out a blood curdling scream which wakes up the rest of the house. John shoots up with a start, running to Sam and y/n’s room. “Mary?” he questions, his wife no longer in sight. The babies are crying, bawling struggling to calm down, but they’re ok, and he lets out a sigh of relief. Gently stroking y/n cheek, he checks them over before checking over Sam. They settle a little, and John smiles, turning to search for Mary. But something catches him. Somethings not right. John turns back into the room, a drop of blood now staining the bottom sheet of the crib the two siblings share.

Drip.

Another drop of blood, quickly followed by another. John realises that the droplets are falling from above, he angles his neck upwards, shear terror shivering its way down his spine. Mary. She’s splayed out, her eyes wide and staring, almost glass like.

“No… oh my god no…” He croaked. He stands frozen, as a sizzling noise overwhelms his senses, the smell of smoke as small black lines spiderweb across the ceiling. The lines connect, spelling out three words. Coming for you. Before suddenly igniting, engulfing the walls and Mary.

The fire alarms blare, beeping fast, high pitch. Y/n and Sam start to fuss again, the noise hurting their ears.

“Mummy? Daddy” a scared voice questions from the hallway, John snaps out of it, grabbing Sam and y/n, swinging the door open, he looks at Dean.

“No Dean, don’t look, okay? We gotta go.” He assured his young son, leading Dean down the stairs and out the front door, holding onto his youngest offspring. It’s not long until the fire fighters arrive. The family are sat on the hood of a car, Dean tucked up into his father’s side, he holds y/n tentatively, John holds Sam in one arm, slowly rocking his young son, while wrapping his arm around Dean. The house burns into the night, reds, yellows, and oranges fill the night sky. Dean turns and hides his face in his fathers’ side, John’s eyes harden, his jaw clenched. No more apple pie life.

---

23 years later.

Sam had moved to Stanford, you’d gone to visit him once or twice, though the distance between Kansas and California made it more difficult. Though you made sure to at least text your twin brother once a week. He had a girlfriend now, you had only met her once, but she was sweet.

About a week ago, Dean turned up at your front door. “Dad’s missing” he yelled as he strolled right through the front door. “Thanks for knocking” you reply, eyes rolling back at your older brothers’ antics. “Dad’s missing” he repeats.

“So what? Dad disappears all the time. We have our own cases to be working on Dean.” You say, walking into the kitchen, setting about moving a couple of dirty dishes into the sink. “y/n!” Dean shouts, “Would I be here if I wasn’t worried?” He had a point, Dean and you were close, closer since Sammy had left for the apple pie life. The two of you staying as hunters, helping John out on a few cases here and there, but mainly soloing it. “Let’s go find dad” you respond, staring into the green eyes of your older brother. ‘Where are you dad?’

Baby’s engine purrs, before Dean turns the key, the headlights switching off. Its peaceful, yet eery. You and Dean climb out the car and gather a few things before walking towards the apartment building. “It’s that one” you whisper, pointing out the window of the apartment your twin lives in, Dean looks at you, “Are you sure?” He murmurs. “Positive” you nod your head back at him.

“Well here goes nothing” Dean says, wrapping a small piece of cloth around his knuckles, before punching the window. It doesn’t take much for the window to shatter. “Thought it would take more effort that that” Dean mentions, turning to look over his shoulder at you, before slowly climbing through to avoid the smashed glass, you slink in, following closely behind. The apartment is dark, but it doesn’t take long for Dean to find the kitchen. “Want a beer while we wait?” He questions, his face illuminated by the small fridge light. Before you get the opportunity to answer, the door swings open, Sam armed ready to attack, you and Dean dodging just in time.

“Easy tiger. Just looking for a beer” Dean jokes with his younger brother.

“Dean?” Sam questions, eyes widening. The both of them ignoring your presence.

“Heya Sammy” Dean smirks, “How are things? Enjoying law school?”

“You scared the crap out of me!” Sam barked, before suddenly spotting your figure. “y/n? You… I though better of you” he sighs dejectedly.

“Sam, we’ve gotta talk” you butt into the conversation, pointing at yourself and then the two boys.

Out of nowhere, a soft tired voice enters the conversation. “Sam?” Jessica asks, eyes adjusting to the two other figures in her kitchen. She’s dressed in a smurf t-shirt, and short shorts. You smile, she’s just as you remember. Dean smiles mischievously, “I love the smurfs”, you stare at your older brother, before sharply elbowing him in the ribs, he hisses taking in a deep breath.

“Jess, hey sorry to wake you” Sam mutters, turning around to look at his girlfriend. “This is… well this is y/n, but you already knew that” you smile and wave at her, the recognition flashes across her face, out of the corner of your eyes you can feel Dean staring at you. Sam continues “Ummm, and this is… well this is Dean”

“Your brother Dean?” Jess questions, a confused look on her face.

“Sammy” you interject “We’ve gotta talk”

“Well, whatever you two need to say, you can say in front of her.” You frown, last thing you had known, Sam had never told Jess anything about your lives, about the creatures that go bump in the dark.

“Dad hasn’t been home in a week” Dean explained, his face hardening with a seriousness.

“So, he’s working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He’ll stumble back sooner or later.” Sam answers quickly, his brain not fully processing the extent of Dean’s sentence.

“No Sam.” You added, “Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a week.” Your twins eyes widen, the mutual understanding between the three siblings that this conversation has to be silent.

“Jess. Excuse us. I need to talk to these two outside” Sam mutters to his girlfriend, before turning around and walking to the door with Dean, Jess stands there, confused. You look at her and smile slightly, mouthing a quick ‘sorry’ before running of to catch up with the rest of your family.

You walk in silence, towards baby, Dean lifting the boot. “He left his journal?” Sam’s eyebrows scrunch up in concern, “Tell me everything.”

It takes awhile to explain what has happened, but soon Sam is caught up. The two of them getting into an argument not long after. “Shut up!” You shout, “Now is not the time.” The boys whip their heads round, staring at you. “They have a point” Dean says, nodding in your direction.

“Look. Dad will be okay. He’ll be home in a few days. You’ll see.” Sam sighs accepting that the argument has been lost.

“He’s in real trouble if he’s not dead already. I can feel it, and I know you can too.” Dean responses, Sam deflates, you can see the worry in your twins’ eyes. You know deep down he cares.

“So, the only question is: you coming with us or not?” You prod, Sam’s eyes fill with flickering emotions, before he finally gives in. “Fine, as long as I’m back by Monday. I have an interview for law school.”

After packing, and saying goodbye to Jess, the three of you head to baby, Sam throwing his duffle in the boot, before climbing into the passenger seat. “Oi! I sit there” You protested, “y/n” Sam growls “It’s 3am, you come into my apartment, convince me to leave my girlfriend for a few days. I don’t see your name on it; therefore, I’m sitting here!” He argued before climbing in and slamming the door, Dean getting behind the drivers’ seat not long after. “Hey! Get in!” Dean shouts, head hanging out of the window, rolling your eyes at the two boys, you huffily clamber into the back of the car.

You’d been in the car for a couple hours, baby’s engine producing a gentle purring, though it’s drowned out by the sound of Deans music blasting over the speakers. “What was he hunting?” Sam asks. “Not sure” You respond, passing a sign that reads ‘Welcome to Sanger, California, U.S.A. America’s Christmas Tree City.’ For such a happy sign, there was an ungodly number of missing posters stapled to the bottom of it, of course Dad chose a place like this you thought.

You zone back in, Sam explaining that there have been no reports of Dad at any hotels or bars. Leaning forward, in between the two front seats you pipe in “I think if we wanna find Dad, we gotta find out what the hell’s happening around here.”

Eventually, you find dad’s room, its covered in pins and string connecting newspaper articles and missing photos. Dean sniffs a burger, before pulling a disgusted face “Dad’s not been here in a few days” he looks over his shoulder, you and Sam are staring at a particular newspaper article. “Dean” you call out tentatively, reaching out and pulling the newspaper off the wall, the small pin ripping the paper where it had been attached. Dean walks over to get a better look at what you’ve been looking at. “He found the same news article” Sam confirms, “What are we dealing with then?” Dean questions, he’s getting agitated, you can tell from the way he’s moving around the room. “He answered that as well” Sam responds, pointing at a sticky note in the jumble of papers and string. “A woman in white” You whisper in recognition.

“All right, so if we’re dealing with a woman in white, Dead would have found the corpse and destroyed it” Dean questions, looking at you and Sam.

“Well, she could have other weaknesses” you suggest. The boys look at you and nod in agreement.

“Think we need to question the husband” Sam admits “That’s what dad would do.”

“If he’s still alive” Deans butts in. “Anyway, I’m starving! Want anything from down the street?” Sam and you just shake your heads no. “Oh well, your loss” Dean mutters turning around, and walking out the front door.

“We need to find the husbands address” you say to Sam, leaning over his shoulder and peering at his phone in his hand, you see that it’s on the voicemail screen, Jess’ name visible. “She’ll be ok, Sammy” His head turns slowly to look at you, brown eyes wide and innocent. He blinks slowly, snapping out of whatever thoughts were going through his head. “I’ll find the addre..” He starts answering your earlier statement, when suddenly your phone starts ringing, Deans name flashing across the screen.

“Dean?”

“Dude, five-oh, take-off” He responds quickly, words spilling out of his mouth like vomit.

“What about you?” you probe. “Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad.” The line goes dead, eyes wide you turn to Sam, who has already started opening the bathroom window. “Come on y/n!” He snapped, you hurry over quickly, rolling out into the bushes behind the motel just as the front door is broken in.

Once you had escaped, you and Sam had decided to follow up on the only lead you have, Constance’s husband. The both of you trudge up to the rickety house, a chain link covering the grimy glass window. Sam knocks on the door, an old man opens it, a puzzled look crossing his face.

“Have you seen this man?” You hold up the photo of your father, recognitions flickers through the old man’s tired eyes. “Yeah, he was here three or four days, ago. Said he was a reporter” He’s hesitant, you can tell that he’s already suspicious. Sam decides to take control of the conversation, it doesn’t last long but you get all the information you need. Thanking the man, you turn around, walking back over to where baby was abandoned.

“So, Dad was here” you state, looking at your taller twin brother.

“And he” Sam moves his head back, directing your attention to the old man watching the two of you out the window “committed adultery.” He pauses, sighing before continuing “We’re definitely dealing with a woman in white. Though our main problem now is figuring out how to get Dean back”.

“Leave that to me” you pull out your phone, dialling 911. “H-hi” you fake stutter, pretending to be in distress. “There’s gunfire, I’m on Whiteford road.”

“There that should work” you smile, shutting your phone and stuffing it into your pocket, Sam is staring eyes wide.

“What?!” you glare at him.

“H-how?”

“You learn these things when your brother leaves, and Dad expects you to fill his place”

---

At Constance’s house

“Well, that was a job well done” you smile, walking backwards, your brothers walking behind you.

“Saved your lives” Dean chortled, throwing open Baby’s door, and climbing in.

---

You’d been on the road for about half an hour, Sam was looking up the message Dad had left Dean. Highway to hell playing over the speakers. It was peaceful. It felt nice, you had missed being the trio, you had missed your twin brother, but you knew he would be leaving soon. Dejectedly you let out a sign, breath steaming up the window.

“It’s called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado” Sam jabs his finger at the map, pointing out the area that was in the middle of nowhere.

“Sounds. Charming” You mutter, rolling your eyes. The boys ignore your sarcastic comment, Dean looks over at Sam, “How far?”

“Six hundred miles” Sam replies, you sink down further into the seat, the soft leather moulding around your body.

“Dean” Sam uttered.

“You’re not going?” Dean gruffly responds, turning Baby around, heading back to Stanford.

---

You swap seats, sitting back in the passenger seat, Sam leaning through the window. “Keep me updated, yeah?” He smiles sadly, stepping back away from the car, and Baby’s engine roars to life. You watch him through the wing mirror, he’s stood in the same place, watching as you and Dean disappear. A single tear dribbles down your face. Dean glances over at you, reaching out he places his hand on top of yours. Dean has always said ‘no chick flick moments’, but he’s always had a soft spot for you. He comforted you as a baby, after your first break up, when Dad hurt you, when Sam left. Sam might be your twin, but Deans always had a soft spot for you.

A chill goes down your spine.

“Dean?” you look at him, your eyes wide, silently asking all you needed to ask.

“You felt that too?” He stares at you, the same scared yet puzzled look across his face. Suddenly he throws Baby around, travelling back to Sam’s apartment. “Somethings not right”.

As you pull up to Sam’s building, the windows are glowing, orange and red. Flames starting to lick around the top of the windows. Nightmares from when you were little flashing through your eyes, you can remember when Dad had told you what had happened that night, and now it was happening all over again. Silent tears had started to pour down your face.

“Sam!!!” You wail, opening the car door, darting towards the building as fast as your legs allowed you, Dean already ahead of you, feet ponding kicking up dust and sand from the gravel. “Sam!” you continue bawling. Dean slams his way into the bedroom, yellow and oranges tongues of fire reaching down almost lapping at your skin. Dean grabs Sam, pushing him out of the room, his wails of anguish as Jess burns ripples through your body.

“Jess! NO! Jess!” Sam weeps, as Dean continues pushing him out of the burning building. Your heartaches, maybe its because you’re seeing your brother hurt, maybe it’s a twin thing, but you swear that you feel Sam’s hurt, the pangs of guilt that ricochet through his body affecting you too.

It doesn’t take long for the fire truck to arrive, you hug your brothers close to you, glad that they are ok. Dean separates from the hug, staring at the burnt building, before walking behind Baby, opening the boot. You hear the familiar click of the shotgun being loaded. Sam starts walking over to Dean, you trail behind. Sam’s face is dark, covered in desperate anger. Sam looks over at you then at Dean, you hear him exhale, as he tosses the shotgun in the boot “we’ve got work to do” he hisses before slamming the boot shut.

---

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Crushing

Dean x gn!reader

Summary: y/n has found Dean in a compromising position, Dean has found out about y/n’s crush. Not everything ends well.

a/n: Sorry! I just love some angst sometimes, and I love writing angst. Let me know what you think. Or even request a fic :)

warnings: angst, implied sex/adult themes

word count: 945

“You’ve got to get over this crush thing” Dean yelled, his arms waving up and down in the space between the two of you, the argument escalating. Why oh why did he have to find out the small crush you had been harbouring, which had developed a few months after you first met him.

The argument had started about ten minutes earlier, when you had walked into the bunker, finding Dean on top of a scantily clad woman. Her blonde hair was a mess, sprawled out across the floor, Dean’s hands were in it, grabbing and pulling as he made out with the unknown woman. Her lipstick was smeared all over his face, his shirt was undone, the sleeve halfway down his arm, his belt was unbuckled, and you watched him groan and moan as he grinded his clothed cock against the woman’s leg.

The short gasp and the small wail that you accidently let slip, betrayed your presence in the room. Dean and the woman turning their heads to look at you. You froze, tears welling in your eyes, your fight or flight kicking in, fear and hurt flooding your body. You span around and ran, but as you left you heard Dean sigh, before muttering “I have to deal with this, look I’ll call you later Maria.”

You could hear his feet thumping on the floor behind you, before he aggressively grabbed your arm, pulling you back, a small squeak escaping your lips, as he turned you round to look at him. You didn’t look at him though, you didn’t want to see his face, his green eyes, his slight brown stubble; you didn’t want to see the bright red lipstick stains peppered over his face, you didn’t want to see his swollen lips from the heavy make out session. To be honest you didn’t want to see Dean at all, you wanted the ground to swallow you hole, to go back in time, never meet Dean, never fall in love with him. You just wanted to be alone.

“Look at me y/n!” Dean growled, roughly grabbing your chin, with his hand, a hand that had been touching that woman, and playing with your hair; it made you feel dirty, like you wanted to peel your skin off. You pulled away from his touch, your eyes still not meeting his green ones, the ones that previous to today you could spend hours getting lost in.

“You’ve got to get over this crush thing” Dean yelled, his arms waving up and down in the space between the two of you, the argument escalating. Your heart shattered, it felt like only yesterday when you had fallen asleep in the library and Dean had picked you up and carried you to bed, it felt like only yesterday when he kissed you on head and tucked you on the bed whispering “I love you, y/n”. It felt like only yesterday; but it wasn’t it was two months ago. That night gave you hope, it made your heart flutter, hopes that one day Dean would be your future. But now, that hope has died, the butterflies that lived in your stomach, poisoned leaving you in cramps. The heart flutters you felt before warping and making your heart feel like it would almost stop.

“Look, y/n. I don’t feel… whatever it is I’m supposed to feel for you”

“But you told me you loved me!” You finally found your voice, yelling at him, fury spreading through your veins, covering you body in hard armour. You were going to at least fight for this, fight for the two of you, even if nothing had fully bloomed yet.

“I love you, y/n” He assured, your heart healing slightly, hope bubbling up from the pit it died in, but then he continued. “I love you so much… just not in that way.” You gasped, stepping back slightly like you had been shot, you felt like you had been shot; and Dean was the one pulling the trigger.

“I don’t want to lie to you, y/n. I care about you, I always will, but you and me, are never gonna happen.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Every sentence, every word was like another bullet piercing your heart, shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces. Your head starts to spin, bile rising in your throat, a slight burn left in its place. You finally look into your ‘shooters’ eye, the different hues of green swirl together in a mixture of sadness and pity. Dean tries to reach out to comfort you, but you slap his hand away.

He signs, lowering his arm. “y/n” He whispers, “you need to move on.” He finishes, turning around and leaving you alone, in the corridor of the bunker, alone like when you first met him, alone like you have been for most of your life.

Your body gave into the void, it felt like you were falling forever, your knees smashing into the floor, the pain shooting through your body, yet the physical pain hurts less then Dean’s words. You were wounded, but no one could fix you. A thousand pieces it a lot to put back together, and there were some pieces sure to be lost. Leaving a hole, a void never able to be filled. Even if you painted the pieces gold, nothing could mend your broken heart.

You sat on the floor, a puddle of tears surrounding you, hoping that it would get deep enough to drown out your hurt, your fears, your anger. You were alone again, with nothing but a broken heart and the words of the one who loved you bouncing around your head.

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Crushing part two

Dean x reader

Summary: y/n has found Dean in a compromising position, Dean has found out about y/n’s crush. Not everything ends well.

a/n: I am so sorry this has taken so long! But I got there, busy ass week. Hoping to write more next week and get more things posted. Thank you to @megamall98 for the request.

warnings: angst, sex/adult themes, swearing

word count: 1268

Part one

---

God her lips! I couldn’t get enough; they were rosy red and plump they looked just like theirs. Like y/n’s. And by chuck was this woman a good fucking kisser. I close my eyes imaging that I was kissing y/n instead.

It hadn’t taken long for me and the random woman I had picked up in the local bar to arrive back at the bunker. The alcohol I had consumed to forget my love for y/n was rushing through my veins. I probably shouldn’t have driven, I know y/n would kill me if she knew, but I need to forget about her; move on, and this chick on my arm was my answer. As soon as we entered the bunker, we were like teenagers, her body was clad in a little tight black dress, nothing like y/n would wear; it made it easier to separate hook-ups from y/n if they were complete opposites. I pinned her against the wall, my fingers dancing up her thigh, my lips pressing gently then hard, then gentle again against her neck until I reached the right spot and she moaned. My fingers continued their journey, playing with the elastic of her panties, fingers creeping underneath, playing with her clit.

We moved throughout the bunker, from the door to the kitchen to the floor. I pinned her arms above her head, sliding her little black dress up her body, before pulling off her panties. Her blonde hair was splayed around her, like a halo, she looked godly, beautiful even; but no where near as amazing as y/n. I closed my eyes, before peppering her neck with kisses, imagining y/n beneath me, my cock getting harder.

But that’s when the argument started.

A short gasp, followed by the slamming of the front door, gave away to someone intruding. I whipped my head around, and there they were. Fuck, I had forgotten about them; I guess my plan worked. But the flash of hurt, anger, confusion that quickly appeared on their face quickly pulled me to my senses. I clambered up off of the blonde on the floor, noticing tears at the corner of y/n’s eyes, before they suddenly turned around, running off, their feet pounding on the floor.

“Fuck! I’ve really screwed this up” I mutter to myself, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. I turn and look at the annoyed blonde, who was no longer attractive and was no longer getting any of me.

“I have to deal with this, look I’ll call you later Maria” I mumble, turning away to follow y/n. I don’t actually know the blondes name to be honest, and I also don’t have her number, but even if I did have her number I’d never call it.

Catching up with y/n is not as easy as it seems. Y/n’s fast, well they should be, they’re a hunter. But I’m taller, and my long legs give my advantage; like a predator chasing its prey. I reach out, my fingers ghosting their arm, but that’s all it take to grab them and yank them into my chest before spinning them around to face my direction. They don’t look at me, head hanging down, I hurt them. I know I hurt them. If I could, I would be theirs in an instant, but we’re hunters, we can’t live the apple pie life. We can’t live their dream.

I want them to look at me, I want to see their beautiful eyes, even if they show all the hurt I’ve caused them. “Look at me y/n” I growl, grabbing their chin gently with my thumb and finger, lifting their head up so their eyes can meet mine. My other hand lifting to move hair out of their face and brushing it behind their ear. Yet, they pulled away, like they were disgusted, grossed out. Like I was the sludge at the bottom of a bin.

“You’ve got to get over this crush thing” I yell harsher than I intend too, my arms waving between the two of us. Little do they know I’ve loved them for ages, but I can’t, we can’t. They want the apple pie life, and I can’t give them that, I want them to be happy, and they’d never be happy with just me. I miss the days where we were close, where I knew they didn’t like me back, where I was the only one getting hurt. Like the day where they fell asleep in the library slumped over a pile of lore books, hair scruffy like a mane around their face, a small dribble of drool escaping their lips, I missed the closeness between us, like when I picked them up, their warmth radiating off of them, their smell invading my senses. I loved the feeling of their skin on my lips as I tucked them into bed, kissing their forehead before whispering “I love you. Y/n” I miss the days where only I was the one getting hurt.

But now I have to break their heart.

“Look, y/n. I don’t feel… whatever it is I’m supposed to feel for you” I mutter, my heart shattering. I wanted nothing more to pin them against the wall and kiss them; tell them, show them how much I love them, but I can’t. They want the apple pie life, and I can’t give them that. So, I lie, through gritted teeth.

“But you told me you loved me!” They yell, eyes red with anger and hurt, oceans of tears pouring down their cheeks. Fuck, they had heard me that night, that’s what started all of this. Why did they have to hear me?

“I love you, y/n” I whisper, I see the hope in their eyes, and it hurts but I had to tell them I love them one last time, before I have to hurt them. “I love you so much…” My heart shatters, this isn’t the way I wanted to confess, damn why did I have to be a hunter, I want to give her that apple pie life! I feel frustrated, angry at myself at my life choices, I wish everything was different. “I love you so much… just not in that way” I finished. They gasped, stepping backwards slightly, stepping away from me, like they were wounded. I wish I could take care of them.

“I don’t want to lie to you, y/n. I care about you, I always will, but you and me, are never gonna happen.” I lie through my teeth. I reach out a hand, trying to at least wipe a few tears away, but they just slap at my hand, my skin starting to turn red from the contact. My hand stings, but the pain doesn’t hurt anywhere near as much as my heart.

I’ve got to finish what I’ve started, rip the plaster off. “Y/n” I sigh, lowering my arm away from them, “You need to move on”.

I can’t look at them any longer, I can’t see the pain I’m causing them, I should be the only one in pain. I leave, turning my back to them, I heard the thump of their body falling to the floor, the loud sobs as I walked away. I felt my hot tears burning my skin, as they break through my outer defences.

I try to convince myself that this is the best for them, for us. They can get the life they wanted, and I’ll go back to the only one being hurt. The way it should be, because Hunters like me, we don’t het happy ever afters.

--

Part one | Main masterlist

You’re my new favorite author. 🤗 @spn-fanfic-reblogs-writes is where I’ve reblogged a few of your works. 😊

🥺🥺 my heart ❤️

Thank you so much hun! I’ve had a really shitty last few days, and you’ve just made my week!

They’ve ruined me for everyone else 😂

Gawd damn right

Wish, I could have told you sooner

Day 2: No dialogue

Dean x reader

Summary: Dean wishes he had spoke sooner

a/n:I said this would take longer than 30 days XD. Heres day two! Very angsty. I love angst (if you couldnt tell).

warnings: Angst, and more angst

word count: 625

Dean stared at the bright phone screen. The phone displaying all his messages sent to you, the little green text boxes haunting him, teasing him even. Every single one had been sent and delivered, yet never read; and he knew deep down, that they would never be read. Dean was in his own world, nothing around him mattered, he was numb yet felt everything at the same time, though his eyes still stayed fixated on the screen in front of him. It was only when the texts and screen started to become difficult to read and became blurry, did Dean realise he was crying. Tears dropping onto the messages, magnifying the words.

Dean always used to say no chick flick moments. Normally, he kept his heart caged, locked up with his emotions; but today all his rules went out the window. Before he would have scrubbed furiously at his eyes until they were red and raw, but to the point where he knew his tears had been erased. But today he didn’t care. He didn’t care who would see him; he just continued to sit there, allowing his tears to dribble down his cheek before dripping onto the phone screen.

Dean was warm in his suit, he never really dressed for the nines. But today was different. He felt uncomfortable, and restricted. The impala felt smaller and didn’t feel like home. Baby pulled up by the green grass, the driver Dean had hired not speaking a word. Dean clutched at the flowers in his hands, knuckles going red and purple. He could tell he was nervous, his hands were getting sweaty, so he gripped the flowers tighter. He took one last look at his phone, before slipping it into his suit pocket. The inward battle to get out of the car was almost too great, and he nearly asked the driver to turn around, so he could go back to bed; but he knew you would want him to be there. So, he slowly clambered out the car, his legs were wobbly, and he felt like a baby dear learning to walk, but he put one foot in front of the other, walking towards the green grass, to where the others were stood.

It felt like Dean had been stood for hours, yet in reality it was 5 minutes. He spotted his brother first, and bobby. Before he saw the brown stained wood, formed to perfection. It was quiet and no one said a word. Dean was asked if he wanted to help carry you out, but he couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to believe in was you being carried.

He watched as you were lowered softly and gently into your new home. He hardly paid attention to anything else. He felt like someone else was in control of him, almost as this was all a bad dream. He pinched himself yet didn’t wake up. It wasn’t a bad dream; it was a real-life nightmare.

He watched as people started to turn and walk away. He watched as your gravestone was placed, and you were covered with dirt. He watched until he was the last one left. He watched until he collapsed into a heap. Head leaning against the cold stone, which bared your name, Tears gushing down his face, his hands still clenching onto the flowers, like they were the only thing keeping him alive. He cried for hours, until the heavens opened, and his tears were inconspicuous from the rain. He cried for your loss, even when the evening came, and the sun started setting. He cried. He stayed until he was exhausted, his tears running out. He didn’t get to tell you everything he wanted to, and now he never would.

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