I Love You

I love you

Dad!Bobby x reader

Summary: You had gone on a hunt alone, simple salt and burn. But when has a hunter’s life ever been simple?

a/n – Sorry, I really like angst fanfics! Hopefully I’ll be able to get part two to join the hunt out next week sometime, but bear with if not as I have a training course for work. Feedback appreciated :)

warnings – angst, demons, bleeding out, blood, blade.

word count: 1109 

You had gone on a hunt alone, simple salt and burn. But when has a hunter’s life ever been simple?

“Fuck!” You yelled. You had just finished the salt and burn, the grave glowing oranges and yellows, the ghost haunting and killing young children put to rest, when suddenly a sharp pain stabbed you in the side. You looked down, a blade was stuck in your side, it felt like poison was flooding your body, you could feel your t-shirt getting wet with blood. ‘Fuck! Why are hunts never so simple’ you thought to yourself, the pain becoming more and more unbearable, paralyzing even.

You coughed a little, blood splattering over your hand and dribbling down your face. The coughing moved the blade within you, and a new wave of pain rushed through your body. Whoever or what had gotten you was hidden in the darkness, but you could hear it, footsteps getting closer.

Keep reading

reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts

I love you

Dad!Bobby x reader

Summary: You had gone on a hunt alone, simple salt and burn. But when has a hunter’s life ever been simple?

a/n – Sorry, I really like angst fanfics! Hopefully I’ll be able to get part two to join the hunt out next week sometime, but bear with if not as I have a training course for work. Feedback appreciated :)

warnings – angst, demons, bleeding out, blood, blade.

word count: 1109 

You had gone on a hunt alone, simple salt and burn. But when has a hunter’s life ever been simple?

“Fuck!” You yelled. You had just finished the salt and burn, the grave glowing oranges and yellows, the ghost haunting and killing young children put to rest, when suddenly a sharp pain stabbed you in the side. You looked down, a blade was stuck in your side, it felt like poison was flooding your body, you could feel your t-shirt getting wet with blood. ‘Fuck! Why are hunts never so simple’ you thought to yourself, the pain becoming more and more unbearable, paralyzing even.

You coughed a little, blood splattering over your hand and dribbling down your face. The coughing moved the blade within you, and a new wave of pain rushed through your body. Whoever or what had gotten you was hidden in the darkness, but you could hear it, footsteps getting closer.

“My, my, my” A deep voice emerged, surrounding you, it sounded as if it was coming from all directions. The creature stepped out in front of you, in body clad in a black crisp suit, dark red splotches scatted on the material. Its hair was slicked back, styled smartly. It emerged from the shadows, into the slight light the salt and burn was casting, blue eyes, switching and turning black, the smell of sulphur and rotten eyes overpowering your senses.

The demon laughed, more like cackled as it walked towards you. If you weren’t incapacitated you would have fought back, but the searing pain froze you to the spot you were stood in. The vessel the demon was occupying was definitely attractive, but that didn’t matter. The demon got closer, until it was a few inches from your face, it grabbed at your face, leaning forward, inhaling your scent. “My, my, my” it repeated again, leaning in towards you, its hot breath ghosting over your ear.

“Who would have thought that I would get the jump on the infamous y/n Singer” it whispered, its voice sweet almost melodic, but the sinister undertone was still there. “I can’t wait to tell your dear old father” it continues, running a finger over your cheek, down to your side, where the hilt on the blade was sticking out of you. Its hand wrapped around it, wiggling it up and down, the pain surging again, as your knees weakened, and you collapsed to the floor with a gasp. The blade puncturing more of your insides as it stayed in the demon’s hand when you fell.

“Oh, yes!” it giggles manically, “I can’t wait to tell dear old daddy, but first you get to suffer” It kicked you in the side, dirt and mucked adding and mixing into your wound. It turned to look at you, smirking before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke. You could feel the blood pouring out of your side faster than before, laying down you curled into a ball, trying to maintain body head. You could hardly feel your hands and feet by now, your body going into shock with the blood loss, but you willed yourself to dig around in your pocket, pulling out the phone, and calling the only man you had on speed dial.

The phone rings a few times, your close to giving up, conserving your energy, when a gruff voice finally answered.

“What have you done now, Idgit” The voice askes, the undertones soft and gentle, caring.

“Dad” you whisper, more blood pouring out of your mouth, you breath in shakily, pain rippling throughout you. “I need to visit you soon; it’s been too long” You try to keep your voice cheerful, not allow him to realise anything is wrong

“What’s wrong y/n” His voice is hard. Of course, you couldn’t fool your dad, of course the infamous Bobby Singer knew when something was wrong. The concern in his voice rolling in waves through the phone, you could imagine him now, standing in the yard, dark eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

“Nothing’s wrong Dad” You squeak out, before a coughing fit overtakes your body, droplets of blood being expelled out of your mouth.

“That’s Bullshit, y/n!” He yells, dad could always tell when you were lying, but you ignored him, continuing with the story, that nothing was wrong.

“I just wanted to call you Dad, it’s been awhile s’all” You whisper, energy draining from your body quicker after you stopped coughing. Though a smile planted itself on your face, thinking of your father and the memories you had with him.

Bobby takes awhile to respond, you can imagine the cogs in his head turning, trying to figure out what was going on and how to help you. But you knew you weren’t long for this world, and you needed to tell him one last thing.

“Dad” you gasped, it was getting harder to breath, your eyesight had started going black around the rims, almost like those stylised photos you saw every so often.

“I love you Dad” Your energy was almost depleted now. Body cold and blue, most of your blood on the floor underneath you. Your ears had started ringing, your brain going foggy. Closing your eyes, it was easier to concentrate on your father’s comforting voice.

“Y/n! What is going on?” He yells down the phone, impatience and fear radiating from his voice.

“I love you Dad” You responded, a happy smile slipping over your face as you got to tell him something you didn’t say often. A hunter’s life was one of gore and hard-faced people, not a life full of lovey moments, though you wished you had said that you loved him more.

You couldn’t open your eyes anymore, eyelids to heavy to move. Your chest felt like the weigh of the world was rested upon it, organs shutting down one by one. Your heart slowing, trying to pump the last remaining blood around your system, your lungs hard inflating with much needed oxygen. It was your time. “I love you, Daddy.” You mustered up the last of your strength, taking the deepest breath you could, before repeating the three little words you wished you had told your father more. Your soul started to slip from your body, the ache in your side becoming more distant, your senses becoming numb, fading. Your dads voice distant, yelling and pleading your name over and over again like a broken record. You smiled as darkness encompassed you, your life slipping away, peace holding your hand as you crossed the line between life and death. Happy as you got to remind your dad that you loved him one last time.

---

Main master list 

let’s talk about the early stages of hyperfixation where you can literally feel your brain getting doses of serotonin because of a show or a movie or a person or a character and mentally you’re like ‘ooooh no’ but it’s like a blackhole you can’t run or escape from so you just gotta ride it out knowing full well the next few months maybe even years are going to be spent mindlessly obsessing over this thing

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

Masterlist | Next

“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.

---

Main master list | Join the Hunt masterlist | Next

They’ve ruined me for everyone else 😂

Gawd damn right