Summary: You can’t be around someone who broke your heart. You just can’t be friends.
A/N: This is a super long one shot. Sorry, not sorry :)
You
Your lips were inches from each other. You could feel Sam’s breath on your face, Your eyes were closed, the anticipation of the moment you’d dreamed of for so long killing you.
Suddenly, you felt his presence gone. You opened your eyes, Sam had stepped back, his hand running through his hair.
“We can’t do this, Y/N,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.
”W-What?” You questioned.
“We can’t be together. It would never work—it’s too risky. You know that.”
You opened your mouth to argue but no words came out. He wasn’t wrong. Hunters dating each other was rough. There was always something out there that could use you against each other. There was always the threat of losing the other person on a hunt. Young death was common. Getting involved with each other would just make it more painful.
You wanted to scream at him that you could make it work. You wanted to beg him to give it a try.
But all you did was nod. You swallowed, willing the tears stinging at your eyes to go away.
Sam nodded back, also at a loss for words. He turned, heading down the hallway to his room. When you heard his door close, you finally let the tears fall.
Three Weeks Later
You
Your sharp hearing alerted you to someone other than Sam or Dean entering the kitchen. Your back was to the entryway as you had been filling your coffee mug. It was six in the morning, and even Sam who was an early riser was never up that early.
Besides, you knew what the boys sounded like. They had very distinct sounds to their steps—individual ways of breathing that you knew like the back of your hand.
This person was not Sam or Dean.
You pulled your gun from your waistband and spun around instantly, training your firearm on the intruder.
The woman raised her hands in surrender instantly, a look of confusion on her face. She looked to be about your age. She had long, straight blonde hair, and doe-like eyes that were a bright shade of blue. Her long legs seemed to stretch on forever in the pair of boxer shorts she wore that were rolled up at the waist. She had a white ribbed tank top on with a flannel thrown over it.
“There is no good way to enter a room that contains a hunter when they’re not expecting you,” she said, her hands still raised and a small smile on her face.
“Who are you?” You demanded, unflinching.
”I’m Danielle. I guess Sam didn’t warn you I was here.”
”You expect me to believe you were invited here?” You had a hard time believing Sam had just “forgotten” to tell you about a guest.
”Well, it was kinda last minute…” she trailed off. You studied her awkward expression before realization hit you. She wasn’t just wearing a flannel and boxers. She was wearing one of Sam’s flannels. You weren’t sure about the boxers, but you had a pretty good guess as to who they belonged to.
A sharp pain shot straight through you as you realized what that meant. This woman had spent the night.
”Oh,” you said lamely. You lowered your gun.
“Whoa, Y/N, what’s goin’ on?” Dean asked, coming into the kitchen behind Danielle. “We don’t wanna scare off any chicks that actually like my brother,” he joked.
Dean hadn’t known about what happened between you and Sam a few weeks before. You were pretty sure he knew about your feelings for his brother, but you hadn’t told him about your near-relationship. So to Dean, Sam having a girl stay overnight was just business as usual.
He didn’t know it was making you bite the inside of your cheek so hard it bled.
“Sorry about that,” you mumbled. She put her hands down as you put your gun back in your waistband. You turned to Dean. ”You knew she was here?”
”Yeah, Sammy texted me last night. He didn’t tell you?” Dean asked, confused.
You feigned nonchalance. “Must’ve forgot,” you shrugged.
“Huh. Well, Y/N, Danielle’s here,” he said, giving your shoulder a small shove as he went to get himself a cup of coffee.
You realized that regardless of your feelings for Sam, you were being rude.
“I’m sorry. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Danielle,” you said, striding over to her and reaching out a hand. She shook it, smiling.
”It’s no problem, Y/N. I would have done the same thing,” she said with a chuckle.
”You’re a hunter too, I take it?” You asked, handing her the mug meant for you and going back to get coffee for yourself again. She sat down at the table and you sat across from her, trying your best to hide your shock at her mere presence.
One-night-stands weren’t new to you. All three of you had them now and again. You just weren’t expecting Sam to have one so soon after your…incident.
“Yeah, I met Sam at a shifter case nearby. We got a drink to celebrate when it was over and…well, here I am.”
You smiled lightly as Dean came to sit next to you. You could feel how forced it was, and by the way you could feel his eyes on you, Dean knew, too.
You spent the next ten minutes getting to know Danielle with Dean before Sam finally stumbled into the kitchen.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” Dean said. Sam didn’t seem that surprised that Danielle was still there. You watched him as he walked in and came to the table, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. He turned and walked to the coffee pot, not once making eye contact with you.
”So what’s on the docket today?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his coffee. You were about to respond when Danielle spoke up.
”Well, Sammy and I are going to head up to Colorado for a werewolf case. Then we thought we’d rent a place up there, have a little mini ski vacation.”
Sammy.
We.
Vacation.
Realization smacked you in the face. Danielle wasn’t a one-night-stand.
Sam was dating her.
Sam
Sam dared a glance at you from behind his mug when Danielle finished speaking.
He saw realization, shock, and anger flit across your face at an amazing speed before it turned to a blank mask.
He was a dick, he knew that. He should have told you he was seeing someone.
He didn’t even really mean to be seeing someone. He’d met Danielle and had a great night of distraction with her. But when morning came, the gaping hole in his heart returned, and he couldn’t stand it. He needed more distraction.
Danielle was there. Danielle was sweet and beautiful. Danielle was interested in him.
Danielle wasn’t you, though.
Before he knew it, a couple of weeks had gone by and he had been calling her up fairly often. He couldn’t find it in himself to tell you, and it hadn’t mattered. But Danielle eventually wanted to see the infamous bunker. So he brought her home. Before telling you.
He knew you’d be pissed. You couldn’t hold it against him forever, though, could you? After all, you’d both agreed it was for the best that you don’t pursue a relationship.
As he watched your face return from blank to your normal easy-going one, he felt a little relief. Maybe you had moved on. Maybe it didn’t bother you that much.
Sam shook his head a little to clear it, listening back in on the conversation. He needed to focus on the upcoming hunt.
Your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Sam hung up, trying his brother instead.
”Yello?” Dean answered on the second ring.
”Is everything okay?” Sam asked.
”Yeah…why?”
”Where’s Y/N?”
”She’s right here, watching Dr. Sexy with me.”
Sam clenched his teeth and felt his jaw tick. You’d ignored his calls.
“Sammy?” Dean asked after Sam neglected to respond.
“Yeah, uh, nevermind. I was just checking in. Danielle and I finished the hunt. We’re gonna spend a couple days up here and then I’ll be home.”
”Alright, brother. Enjoy,” Dean said. Sam could almost hear his eyebrows wiggling. He rolled his eyes and hung up without responding.
“Everything okay?” Danielle asked, putting her arms around Sam’s neck from behind and placing her face against his. He swallowed, pushing aside his annoyance.
“Yep, all good.”
You
Dean hung up the phone and turned to look at you.
“What?” You asked, feigning innocence.
“You wanna tell me what that was about?” He asked, eyeing you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, turning back to the TV.
Dean snatched the remote from next to you, turning it off. “Bullshit. You’ve been weird the last two days. What is going on? Did you and Sam have a fight or something?”
“Or something,” you muttered.
“Y/N,” he said, staring you down.
“You know how I feel about him, right?” You asked with a sigh.
“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug.
”Well, that just makes it…hard to be around him right now. Or talk to him.”
Dean nodded slowly. “But, Y/N, this isn’t anything really new, is it?”
You let out a dry chuckle. “Well, it turns out my feelings aren’t so one-sided.”
”Well I coulda told you that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Sam’s always been crazy about you.”
You nodded, pursing your lips. You gave him a minute to let what he was saying sink in.
“Wait, if you know you like each other, why aren’t you together?”
”Because dating when you’re a hunter is a bad idea,” you said flatly.
”But…Danielle’s a…” he trailed off. “Oh.”
”Yeah. Oh.”
”I’m so sorry, Y/N/N. I wouldn’t have been so easy-going about her being here if I’d known,” he said, his eyes shining with regret.
”Don’t worry about it, De. I just…I need some space from him. I don’t think I can be his friend right now.” You felt your face crumple a bit as the words left your mouth. You sniffled, and you saw Dean’s eyes flash with a protective anger.
”I’ll knock some sense into him,” he said, his jaw ticking.
“Dean, no. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to beat up your brother for me,” you said with a chuckle. Dean really was your best friend outside of Sam, and you felt your heart swell a little at the thought of him siding with you over his own brother.
”Fine,” he sighed. “But Y/N, you say the word, and his ass is grass.”
You laughed and rolled your eyes, Dean’s antics cheering you up a little. “Got it.”
It was a little harder to avoid Sam when he got back from his “mini-vacation.” He had clearly caught on to the fact that you didn’t want to hang out with him. Not that you were subtle.
Whenever Sam walked into a room you were in, you mumbled some excuse and left. You could see that it was bothering him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.
He’d tried to talk to you about it a couple of times. You’d been able to avoid the conversation.
Until now, that is.
”Y/N, stop.” He grasped your arm as you turned to leave the library. You’d come in from the kitchen and seen him there and immediately tried to escape. He was fast, though, and pulled you to a bookshelf, effectively cornering you.
You pulled your arm away from his hand as if he’d burned you.
“What, Sam?” You asked with very little patience.
”What do you mean, ‘what’? You’ve been avoiding me for the better part of a month,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah, well, you’ve been busy,” you said, emphasizing the last word.
“I’ve been here almost every day,” he said, clearly not getting what you were saying. “Why don’t you want to hang out with me? I miss you.”
You almost softened your resolve when he said that. But the pain that creeped in when you remembered Danielle put the wall right back up. If he couldn’t see what he’d done, you weren’t going to explain it to him.
”It’s nothing, Sam. I’ve just been busy, too.” You met his eyes but made sure to keep yours blank. He searched them for a moment. “Can I go now?” You asked.
He nodded, a look of sadness on his face. You slipped past him and out of the library before you could change your mind.
A few more weeks went by and you could feel yourself becoming less and less like yourself. You continued to give Sam the cold shoulder, and it seemed he had given up trying to get you to talk, too. You spoke with him when it was essential for hunts, but rarely outside of that.
Danielle had been joining many of your hunts and hanging around the bunker a lot. It was painful to see them together, but she really was a nice girl and a great hunter. It wasn’t her fault you were heartbroken.
You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard Danielle wouldn’t be coming on the afternoon’s hunt. You were going to the next town over to take care of a vamp nest, which should have been quick and easy.
It wasn’t.
There were more vampires than any of you had thought. The three you killed easily were only a third of what the nest actually was. You each took on two more when they appeared. You could hear the sounds of Sam and Dean fighting theirs off as you lopped off the head of one of yours. The other one, though, got the jump on you. He threw you against the wall with unbelievable force, knocking the wind out of you.
You laid crumpled on the floor, trying to get your bearings. You had hit your head, and you reached back to feel the bump, your hand coming back red with blood. Your back was screaming, and you could tell you’d at least bruised a few ribs.
“Stupid girl,” the vampire said, closing in on you slowly. “You killed my family. That cannot stand.”
Your vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, unconsciousness pulling at you. As the vamp leaned in, fangs bared, his eyes went wide just before his head was gone. It rolled to the floor and his body fell back with a loud thump on the floor.
“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?” Sam shouted. He was kneeling down in front of you where the vampire had just been. He held your shoulders and you blinked hard, trying to get your vision to clear. It was useless, though, and you felt yourself go limp before darkness took over.
“Y/N. Y/N,” you heard as you opened your eyes. You blinked against the harsh light of the bunker’s kitchen. You were sat in a chair, Dean holding you up by your shoulders and lightly tapping your face.
”Y-Yeah,” you said, your head pounding. “I’m okay.”
”I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied. He checked you over and when you both agreed that you’d just been knocked out and probably had some bruised ribs, he gave you a glass of water and left to go shower. You were still sitting, and realized that Sam was leaning against the counter, staring at you.
“You scared me,” he said quietly.
You pursed your lips, shrugging. “I’m fine.”
”You’re not fine. We’re not fine,” he said, looking away and shaking his head.
“Sam, don’t,” you said. You stood up and took a moment to steady yourself.
“Just talk to me, Y/N!” He said, suddenly walking toward you.
”Why don’t you talk to your girlfriend, Sam?” You said, unable to hide the hurt from your voice.
Sam’s eye met yours, a look of regret taking over.
“I made a mistake,” he said quietly.
“You—you made a mistake.” You stated sarcastically.
“Yeah, Y/N. I made a mistake starting a relationship with Danielle. I still have feelings for you,” he said. He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch you, but dropped it when he saw the look on your face.
You felt the rage bubbling up inside as you held back the tears forming the best you could.
”What do you want me to say, Sam?” You said through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”
He swallowed, his soulful eyes meeting yours.
“You did this to us, Sam. You chose to date her. You chose this.”
”We both agreed it was better not to try!” He argued.
“No, Sam. You said it was better. I only went along with it because it was what you wanted! And then you decided to try with her!” You sucked in a breath as the tears fell in an attempt to calm yourself. “She is a good person, Sam. She doesn’t deserve less than one-hundred percent of you.”
You stepped forward, gripping his hand. You brought your eyes up to his. “Be the good man I know you are. Be with her.” You squeezed his hand once before dropping it. You brushed past him and down the hall to your room. Closing the door, you collapsed onto your bed and let the sobs escape. Some time later, you felt the bed dip behind you. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in over your sobs. So much for your hunter ears.
You knew from the scent of whiskey, cologne, and motor oil that it was Dean, though. He put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you toward him, and you let him. You rested your head on his chest and gripped his shirt as you cried. He kept his arms around you and let you, shushing you and kissing the top of your head. After what felt like hours, you fell asleep surrounded by the comfort of your best friend.
Sam
It had been a few hours since he’d seen you or Dean, so Sam decided to go looking for you. After looking in all the common areas of the bunker, he carefully opened the door to your room.
Dean met his eyes from his spot leaning against the headboard of your bed and Sam slid his gaze down, taking in your sleeping form. He could see that the space around your eyes was puffy from crying. He took a deep breath in, letting it out in a pained sigh.
“She been asleep long?” He asked his brother.
Dean just shook his head. “She’s really out, though.”
”Dean—“
”Sam, I don’t want to hear it,” Dean said, cutting him off. “Whatever bullshit reason you have for doing what you did—for doing this,” he said, nodding toward you with his head, “I don’t want to hear it.”
Sam bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, feeling the tears stinging the back of his eyes.
”What am I supposed to do, man?” He asked his big brother, his voice breaking slightly. “I love her.”
Dean’s eyes softened. “You do what’s right. You do what you always should have.”
”I can’t lose her,” Sam said quietly. He worried for a second that Dean wouldn’t know if he meant Danielle or you.
“I get it,” Dean replied, and Sam wasn’t worried anymore. “But you have to decide what that means for you. Cause you can’t have it both ways.” He looked down at you again, effectively telling Sam that he was done talking.
Sam left your room, closing the door quietly behind him.
The right thing. He’d always tried to do the right thing. And look where it’d gotten him.
He knew what he was going to do, right or wrong be damned.
You
You’d woken at some point to Dean sliding out from under you and covering you with your comforter. You were already falling back asleep as he kissed your head and said, “Sleep, sweetheart.”
Now you woke again. Your phone on your nightstand told you it was 11 AM. You’d slept for twelve hours.
Everything from the night before came rushing back to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself. Your head throbbed and your ribs ached as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom. You showered, the hot water stinging your head wound but soothing your sore muscles. You dressed in your leggings and a t-shirt before throwing one of Sam’s flannels over it. You may not have been his girlfriend—or even speaking to him—but you would be damned if you were going to give up the comfiest piece of clothing you’d stolen from him.
You padded down the hall to the kitchen, noticing how quiet the bunker was. You didn’t know where the brothers were, but decided not to worry about it before you’d even had some coffee.
You walked into the library, intent on sitting in one of the overstuffed leather chairs by the bookshelves. You stopped, though, when you saw Sam sitting at one of the tables. He wasn’t pouring over any old tomes or looking at his laptop like usual. He was just sitting there, staring at his hands. He looked up then, and you knew he’d been waiting for you.
”Sam, please, I can’t do this again,” you said, not wanting to argue with him.
He stood, walking to you in two long strides and taking your mug, setting it down on the table nearest to you. You watched him in confusion as he came back to stand in front of you.
“You said I was a good man, Y/N.” He grabbed each of your hands with his, his eyes never leaving yours. “But a good man wouldn’t have broken your heart.”
You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. “Sam—“
”Let me just say this, Y/N/N,” he said softly. You nodded for him to continue.
“I was trying to do the right thing when I said we shouldn’t be together. I thought it would just be too hard, and I didn’t want to lose you. But being without you created this—this hole in me. So I tried to fill it. I distracted myself with Danielle. I didn’t even really want to be in a relationship with her. It’s not like I forgot what I had just said about dating as hunters. But it was different with her. The stakes weren’t as high.”
You watched him as he continued, his grip on your hands staying firm.
”She only eased the ache for a little bit, though. It always came back. It came back because you are what I need.
”When you got hurt on the hunt yesterday, my heart nearly stopped. It didn’t matter that we aren’t together. Losing you would ruin me, whether we’re together or not.
“I broke up with Danielle this morning. Maybe that makes me a bad person. I don’t know. I don’t care, though. I’m so in love with you, Y/N. And I can’t go another minute without you in my life.”
Your heart thudded in your chest, and you could feel the tears leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. Sam lifted his hands to your face, his thumbs wiping the tears away.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said when it was clear you were speechless. You nodded, finding it was the only thing you could manage at the moment.
Sam smiled lightly and leaned in, bringing his lips to yours. In that moment it was like you had found everything that had ever been missing in your life. You were whole again. You brought your hands up around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. He moaned, wrapping one arm around your back and pulling you flush to him.
After a few moments he pulled away, his eyes searching yours. You realized you still hadn’t spoken.
You smiled. “You are a good person, Sam. And I love you, too.”
His face lit up and he pulled you back in for another kiss.
“Thank God,” you heard from the bottom of the stairs. Dean stood there holding a few takeout bags. “I couldn’t take any more of y’all’s drama.”
You rolled your eyes at your friend before turning back to Sam. “So, do you want to try this?” You asked cautiously.
”Try? No,” he replied. Your heart sank for a moment before he continued. “We’re doing this. You’re it for me, Y/N,” he said, placing a finger under your chin before bringing his lips to yours again.
You smiled as he pulled away. “Guess we’re friends again,” you joked.
“Nuh uh,” he said, pulling you close again. “You’re mine,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine.
“Then show me,” you whispered back. Next thing you knew, Sam had thrown you over his shoulder and was marching down the hall.
“Guess I’ll see you guys later,” you heard Dean call with a chuckle.
And as Sam tossed you gently on his bed and crawled up, hovering over you, you knew that he finally got it.
Square Filled: Fake Dating (I took a bit of a different approach; I hope you like it!)
Pairing: Dean x Fem!Reader
Warnings: This one’s pretty tame - a tiny bit of angst, some fluff, verbal argument, mentions of injury/pain described, and some language.
Word Count: 1100 (shortest piece I’ve written in forever)
Credits: Beta- the absolutely wonderful and amazing @princessmisery666. Thank you for being a sounding board, sharing your opinions and offering insightful suggestions, and for being a great friend.
Photo Credits: Dean on the phone, Dean and Impala; Forehead kiss on Pixabay
Summary: Dean needs a little assist when things take a turn with you/Y/N/the reader.
Lying in the back of the Impala, exhausted, bleeding, and pain ripping through your body, isn’t how you expected your day to end when you woke up this morning, but you shouldn’t have been surprised when Dean Winchester is involved.
“Why do I always get stuck being a fake couple with you? Does Sam think he’s too good for me?”
“Y/N-” Dean cautions.
“No, seriously. Does he think that I’m not good enough for Sam fucking Winchester? That no one would believe that the two of us were dating?”
“Y/N-”
Dean sighs in defeat when you cut him off again, continuing with your tirade regarding the current situation—how it is all Dean’s fault, as usual. He lets you ramble on, knowing better than to try and make you see reason.
“Y/N, honey-” he attempts again after a few minutes, trying to appease you.
“Don’t you ‘honey’ me, Dean Winchester! I wouldn’t be-” You inhale a sharp breath feeling like every organ is being twisted and wrung out.
“Y/N. Hey, look at me. You need to calm down.” Your eyes snap up to Dean’s, and he physically recoils at the wrathful glare you shoot his way.
“When I agreed to be your fake girlfriend the first time three years ago, I knew it was going to be trouble, you were going to be trouble, and I was right. Every time… how many times now? Three? Four?”
“Four.”
“Yeah, four times now, and every goddamn time something goes wrong! But this? This has to be the absolute worst,” you scream.
“You know that this is the last thing that I wanted. Right? I didn’t want you to come on this hunt in the first place. You are the one that insisted. Said you’d key Baby, and then threatened to cut my balls off while I was sleeping and let Crowley feed them to Juliet if I tried to sideline you.” Dean’s voice is stern, but there’s no heat behind the words. If anything, they are tinged with fear.
“You honestly believed I would hurt, Baby?” you pout, eyes watery.
“No,” Dean grunts in frustration. A wry smile plays on his lips seconds later. “I do believe you’d cut my balls off, though.”
“Only if you really pissed me off,” you tease, sniffling. “Besides, I wasn’t going to be benched for a minor issue.”
“Minor?!” That dom brow of his arches high in disbelief, and the disapproving dimples make an appearance, giving you a reprieve from the stress of the situation as you smile inwardly at how adorably sexy he is right now. “You call this a minor issue?” He waves a hand in the air toward your body.
“We had a plan,” you reply flimsily.
“Yeah, well, that plan went to shit, didn’t it.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he takes a deep breath before gently placing his hand over yours, thumb caressing the skin of your wrist. “Y/N, we could’ve found someone else to help us this time,” he sighs, voice thick with emotion and strained patience, whiskey mixed with molasses.
“Who-” Curling in on yourself with a grunt, you sputter through gritted teeth, “We were the closest. H- how many innocent people would have died if w- we’d waited for someone else? Besides, it doesn’t matter now… ow, ow, owwww.”
“Honey, you need to lie back and let me take a look. I have to-”
“I told you not to call me Honey,” you growl, enunciating each word with a huff of breath. “You know, if Sam had been my fake boyfriend, this never would have happened.” Yanking your hand from under his, you scream, “This is all your fault, you son of a bitch!”
Dean flinches, visibly hurt by your remarks, the hinges of the car’s open door rasp as he falls against it, gravel crunching beneath his knees. “Just a minute ago, you were blaming Sam for not being your fake boyfriend. Now it’s my fault?”
You can hear the irritation in his voice, but his countenance is the epitome of calmness; he has an impressive poker face. A strong, beautiful face, but right now, you want to punch it. “Because it’s always your fault!”
Sam’s chuckle drifts through the phone’s speaker from where it’s lying on the ground, giving you pause. You know you’re being mean and unfair to Dean, but you can’t seem to stop the hurtful torrent of words you continue to direct at him, the pain pushing all rational thought from your brain.
“Tell me. Tell me why it's always you and me?” you whine, the crushing sensation of bone and muscle imploding threatening to take your breath away.
Dean clenches his jaw; thick muscles flex beneath the stubbled skin, eyes crystalizing to a deep titanite green as he shouts, “Because that first fake date led to a real date, and we’ve been together two years now. You asked me out! Or did you forget?”
"Oh, believe me, I'm regretting that right now! Two years together, and here we are!"
“Jesus... “ Dean throws his hands in the air and stands. “Fuck…”
You shrink back at the sudden movement and angry tone of his voice. A salty cascade flows down your cheeks, and he’s immediately on his knees in front of you again. Shame and regret etched in the worried lines of his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, tears clinging to his thick lashes.
Reaching out a hand, you stroke his hair, ashamed that you drove him to an outburst. “No, I’m sorry.” Your thumb smoothes over the crease in his brow. “It just hurts so bad.”
He leans into your touch and sighs. “I know, babe, but we’re going to get through this. Together. Always you and me.” Dean places a sweet kiss on your forehead and gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Okay?”
“Okay,” you sniffle and lie back on the rough wool blanket draped over the Impala’s back seat, only to shoot upright seconds later as a wave of searing pain rolls through your body, this one the worst yet.
“Okay. What do I need to do, Sam?” Dean now has the phone to his ear, mouth agape as he stares at you.
Gripping the front of his shirt, you forcibly pull him to you, faces mere centimeters apart, and shriek, “I’ll tell you what the fuck you’re going to do, Winchester. You’re going to get this baby out of me right fucking now, or I am going to fucking gut you.”
Eyes wide, Dean’s Adam’s apple bobs around a thick swallow as he squeaks, “Sammy?”
thank you for the ‘don’t worry about me’ request!! i loved it thank you! could i request another where you and sam both promised to not date each other because it’s a difficult life w/hunting etc, but then sam ends up dating another girl and you’re refusing to be friends with him because you’re jealous and he regrets dating the other girl in the first place?? kinda inspired by we can’t be friends by ariana grande? thanks!!
Sure thing, love! Glad you liked Don’t Worry About Me. Will start working on this one soon ❤️
Imagine: Dean helping you get through your cardio workout
A/N: Literally thought of this when I was at the gym trying to get through a workout. Pretended Dean was cheering me on…is that weird? Ha.
You were pretty sure almost no one hated running more than you.
You were a bigger person. You always had been. Plus sized, if you will. You were very strong, though. When you hunted, you held your own.
You didn’t hate your body, either. You weren’t skinny like some of your friends were in high school. You knew none of them could do what you could on hunts, though.
Dean liked your curves, too. He always said he admired your strength and the man damn near worshipped your body in bed.
But you knew your weakness: cardio.
It wasn’t very often you had to run for your life. You, Sam and Dean made a great hunting team, so there was rarely a need to run away.
When you did, though, you lagged behind. That meant that Dean lagged behind, too. He would never leave you to fend for yourself. You didn’t like it. You didn’t want him in danger any more than he wanted you to be.
So that was why you were trying to get better at running even though it was the bane of your existence. You’d been spending time in the bunker gym, using the treadmill Sam had bought for when the weather outside wasn’t conducive to his runs.
You didn’t really want Dean to know what you were doing. It was your own problem, and you wanted to fix it on your own.
You’d run a few times on your own on the treadmill, and hated every second of it. It put you in a bad mood for the rest of the day, and your boyfriend had definitely noticed.
You were once again trying to get a run in on the treadmill before the brothers got back from their supply run. Unfortunately, you didn’t time it right.
“Y-Y/N?” Dean asked, entering the gym. He had a shocked look on his face.
“What?” You huffed, annoyed. It wasn’t his fault, but you couldn’t hide how much you hated what you were doing.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, coming to stand next to the treadmill with his arms crossed over his chest.
You rolled your eyes. “Can’t a person run without getting asked a million questions?”
“A person, yes. You…no. Sweetheart, you hate running,” he said with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah—well— hate—putting you—in danger—more,” you said while panting.
Dean reached over, pulling the cord that stops the treadmill.
“Hey!” You exclaimed, slowing to a walk before the belt stopped completely.
“What are you talking about?” Dean asked. “What danger?”
“I’m slow, Dean,” you said, finally regaining your breath. “I know I am. And I don’t want to be the reason you stay behind and get killed by a monster!”
“First of all, that’s not going to happen. And B, you are one of the best hunters I know. I really think you’re underestimating yourself.”
You sighed. “Regardless, Dean, I could be better, and I want to be.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face. “This has nothing to do with looks, right? Cause, sweetheart, you know I think you’re perfect the way you are.”
You smiled, despite your exhaustion. “I know that, De. And I promise, it’s not about that. I know I’m hot,” you said with a wink.
Dean bit his lip, sending a little thrill through to your core.
“I just want to improve is all,” you said with a shrug.
“Well, sweetheart, you know how I feel about running, too. I hate it maybe more than you do. But if this is something you want, I will help you,” Dean said, reaching out to squeeze your hand.
You weren’t sure how he meant to help you, but going it alone wasn’t working. You’d take any help offered at this point.
He watched your face as you tried to understand what he’d do, and he gestured for you to step back on the treadmill. You turned it back on and began jogging.
After a minute or so, you started to get out of breath and wanted desperately to stop. You looked at Dean, who nodded his head in the direction the treadmill was facing to tell you to keep looking forward.
“You got this, sweetheart,” he began. He wasn’t yelling it, just speaking with conviction at his normal volume.
“I’ve seen you go through literal Hell, Y/N. This is nothing. You are so strong.”
His words gave you some confidence. It was nice to hear, especially over the voice in your head that was telling you to quit.
You went another ten minutes with Dean’s words of encouragement spurring you on before your legs started really aching.
“It—hurts—De—” you panted.
“Just a little more, Y/N/N. And when you’re done, I’m gonna take you to the shower…get you nice and clean,” he said, his voice turning sultry.
“Hm?” You asked, suddenly distracted from your pain.
“That’s right, baby. Then I’m gonna massage all your sore muscles.”
You felt even more of a blush rising to your cheeks.
“And tomorrow, when you’re all rested, we’re gonna do some cardio together.”
“You—hate—running,” you said, breathless for more than one reason.
“I’m not talking about running, sweetheart.”
You hit your goal of two miles then, and nearly leapt off the treadmill before the belt even stopped.
“Let’s hit the showers,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the hall.
Dean followed, chuckling. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Anon Request: hi! could you do a sam imagine where he’s been really stressed with work/researching for a big hunt, y/n can’t sleep and sees him still awake and tries to make him feel better? maybe some hidden feelings for both of them?? just really fluffy cute stuff please!! thank you! i love your work!
Sam x Reader
A/N: Thank you so much for this prompt, Anon! I loved writing this. I decided to make the research about the Mark of Cain but other than that stuck pretty close to the request! Enjoy!
You
You laid in bed, blinking your wide-open eyes at the ceiling. Sleep was just not coming for you that night, and you were pretty sure you knew why.
Ever since Dean was healed of being a demon, the three of you had been stuck in your search to remove the Mark of Cain from his arm. And while Dean insisted he was fine, you and Sam knew the truth. The Mark was tearing him apart.
It had become the main topic of conversation for you and Sam when Dean wasn’t around. Sam spent nearly all his time researching when he wasn’t on hunts. You did what you could to help, but it had also fallen to you to hang out with Dean as a distraction. And, to be honest, as a guardian.
You trusted Dean with your life, but it was clear on hunts that he was becoming sort of unhinged. Dean already hated himself enough for what he did as a demon. You weren’t going to let him do anything else to add to that.
That meant spending less time with Sam, though. It was hard not being around him. You missed talking about lore with him; joking about your favorite books and movies; sharing about things from your past you’d never shared with anyone, and him doing the same; you missed the way he smelled of pine and books.
You just missed him.
And while everyone was worried about Dean—and rightfully so—no one was worrying about Sam.
No one, that was, but you.
In reality, that was what was keeping you awake at 3:46 in the morning. Every time your lids slid closed, you’d just see beautiful hazel eyes filled with concern staring back at you, and your own eyes would snap back open.
Sam was your best friend. You couldn’t lose that, no matter what. That was the main reason you hadn’t told him that your feelings for him went a little deeper.
Okay, maybe a lot deeper.
You rolled out of bed, finally giving up on the idea of sleep. You padded down the hall in your little sleep shorts and t-shirt, slipping your arms through the sleeves of one of Sam’s softest flannels you’d nabbed a while ago. You hugged it around yourself against the chill of the bunker’s hard floors and walls.
You stepped down into the kitchen, fully intent on starting a pot of coffee, only to see a half-full pot already sitting on the warming plate. You shook your head as you poured yourself a mug, not all that surprised at the sight, and knowing what you’d find when you made your way into the library.
As expected, Sam sat at one of the tables hunched over an old tome. His laptop was open next to him, the blue light reflecting in his eyes as he skimmed the pages. He looked exhausted, and your heart broke at the thought of how hard he was working with so few results. You sighed, alerting him of your presence. Enough was enough.
Sam
Sam lifted his bleary eyes when he heard a small sigh from the entryway of the library. Even though he could see the worry etched on your face, he couldn’t help but notice the ebb of the stress he’d been feeling just from your presence.
You’d always done that for him. Something about you was just able to calm him, even in some of the worst times he’d experienced. And he’d experienced some really shitty times.
His breath caught in his throat when he focused his eyes on what you were wearing. Your tiny sleep shorts showed off your toned, tanned legs. You had a fitted t-shirt on (with no bra, Sam couldn’t help but notice), and to top it all off you were wearing one of his flannels.
That made something deep inside him flare up with pride.
Only problem was that you weren’t even his.
You were Sam’s best friend, he reminded himself. That was all you were, no matter how much he wanted it to be more.
Besides—he was pretty sure you had feelings for his brother. You’d spent so much time with him lately, trying to keep him from giving in to the Mark, Sam knew there was probably something going on between you. He couldn’t even blame you. His brother was a great person, even if he was currently struggling.
Sam had been researching non-stop for how to get that fucking Mark off his brother. He had only found dead ends, and it was wearing on him. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually choose to sleep instead of research. In fact, many times, his body did the choosing for him. You’d shaken him awake multiple times when you’d found him with his head down on the library table, drooling away after being unable to keep his eyes open.
Tired as he was, though, he couldn’t help but give you a sheepish smile.
“Sam, c’mon, you should be sleeping,” you said without much conviction in your voice. He knew it was what you really thought, but that you understood why he was still up.
“I could say the same about you,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. He reached for his now-cold mug of coffee and took a sip anyway, recoiling slightly at the temperature.
You padded over slowly, setting your own mug down on the table before walking to stand in front of Sam with your arms crossed over your chest. “I couldn’t sleep,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek.
Sam nodded, looking up at you and pursing his lips. “Worrying about Dean?”
You shook your head. “Worrying about you.”
”Me? I’m fine, Y/N/N,” he replied, trying to ignore the way his heart swelled at the thought of your concern for him.
You sighed again. “You’re not fine. None of us are,” you said, shrugging one shoulder.
“Well, you really don’t need to worry about me, Y/N. We should be focused on Dean.”
Sam’s heart thudded loudly in his chest as you walked closer to him, coming to stand between his legs. “I don’t want to focus on Dean right now,” you said. You raised a hand to his face, cradling his cheek. Sam couldn’t help but lean into your comforting touch.
Something in him made him reach his hands for your hips, pulling you even closer. His inner voice screamed at him that it was a mistake, but he was just too tired to care.
You slid your hand down to his chin, lifting it so that Sam would meet your beautiful Y/E/C eyes. He was enraptured by your soft features; the way your eyes shined, the rosy glow of your cheeks, the way your hair fell in waves that framed your face.
“I want to focus on you,” you said quietly. You lifted your legs, your knees coming to rest on either side of his hips so that you were straddling his lap. His hands slid from your hips to your lower back as your hands found their way around his neck and your fingers tangled in his hair.
Your eyes darted between his and down to his lips. He couldn’t even hear over the beat of his own heart. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
You leaned in, gently touching your lips to his. He sank into the kiss, unable to stop himself even if he’d wanted to.
Your lips moved together, the kiss soft but urgent. Sam’s fingers dug into your hips, eliciting a small gasp from you. He was ready to give in to the carnal desire the sound gave him until he remembered that voice screaming at him in his head.
“Y/N,” he said, pulling away and panting. “You don’t have to do this.”
Your brow furrowed and you looked at him with questions in your eyes. “What do you mean?”
”You said you wanted to focus on me. You’re trying to make me feel better, to make me less stressed. I get it. But…I can’t do this. Not when it doesn’t mean the same thing to you as it does to me.”
You visibly deflated. “Oh. This—this is just me comforting you, then?”
Sam was confused. He had been sure that was all you were doing. But based on your reaction…could he dare to hope?
You moved to get up but Sam tightened his grip on your hips to still you. “You’re not just comforting me,” he stated.
You shook your head.
“You want me?” He asked, keeping his voice as even as possible. You looked nervous, biting your bottom lip.
But you nodded.
Sam felt a smile grow on his face. “Then we’re on the same page,” he said softly, using one hand to cup your face, his long fingers threading into your hair.
You nodded yet again, a small smile finding its way to your lips.
“I’m in love with you, Y/N,” he said, unable to hold it in any longer.
You leaned in, kissing him again in a way that took his breath away.
“I love you, too,” you said, pullling away. You stood up, grabbing his hand to pull him up from his seat. You placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him through your lashes. “Follow me. Let’s go to bed.”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Yes, to sleep. I’m going to hold you in my arms and play with your hair and you’re going to sleep.”
Sam sighed, incredibly happy to hear your plan, even if it wasn’t to have sex.
“Besides, we have plenty of time for the other stuff. I’m nowhere near done with you, Winchester,” you said, backing up and tugging his hand again.
Sam groaned with a laugh, following you down the hall. He looked forward to sleeping with you in both senses of the word.
hi! could you do a sam imagine where he’s been really stressed with work/researching for a big hunt, y/n can’t sleep and sees him still awake and tries to make him feel better? maybe some hidden feelings for both of them?? just really fluffy cute stuff please!! thank you! i love your work!
Aw such a cute prompt!! I will work on this for sure!
Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.
Jensen x You
Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift
Masterlist
Present - Jensen
It had been two weeks since he’d last talked to you. Two weeks since you’d walked out the door, leaving Jensen confused and heartbroken. Two weeks since you’d told him you were going, and Jensen let you leave.
He felt the anxiety bubbling up, threatening to overtake his senses. He was on his way back from a party for the season wrap of The Boys.
Going to parties with other people in the industry was just part of his job. He had to do it frequently, but it didn’t change the panic he felt after the events about how he’d come off or what sort of impressions he’d made.
You used to help him with that.
Not only did he know he made a better impression on strangers with you by his side, but you were the only one who could calm him down after a party. You knew exactly what to say and brought him out of his mind. He thought back to one of the first parties he’d brought you to.
Jensen slid into the car that had been waiting to pick you up. As soon as he settled and the car was moving, he let out a deep sigh, placing his head in his hands.
“Jay.”
He didn’t move. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, and his breathing was becoming a little shallow.
“Jay, look at me,” you said. You’d placed a hand on his thigh from your seat next to him. He finally lifted his head, glad he had when he saw the soft smile gracing your face.
“What’s going on?” You asked, a small crinkle forming between your brows. “It went great,” you said, moving your hand to interlace your fingers with his.
“I just—I feel like no one liked me. My jokes fell flat, I was awkward—the only time things felt good was when I was talking to you or Jared.” He stared down at your interlocked hands.
“That’s not true, Jens. Everyone there loved you.”
“How do you know?” He asked incredulously.
“Because I do,” you said with a pointed look. “You’re hard on yourself. You focus on your flaws. But when you’re on the outside,” you paused, placing a gentle finger under his chin to lift it, causing him to look at you, “it’s obvious. You are amazing, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
Jensen smiled and leaned into your hand that had slipped to his cheek. His fears faded, and he leaned toward you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You gave a small, contented sigh, and Jensen melted even more.
He let the memory of your words echo in his head. It was in no way the same as having you with him. But he tried to remember that he was critical of himself, and that he had probably been fine at the party. After all, he was a bigger name now. People stared when he walked in—moved to the side to let him through as he approached his fellow actors.
He chuckled dryly to himself. He could almost see you rolling your eyes at the awed expressions of the partygoers. You’d never bought into acting like celebrities were royalty. It was one of the things that had attracted him to you in the first place.
He sucked in a sharp breath as realization hit him.
It was one of the things that drove you away, too.
You - Now
“I’m sorry, Gen,” you said into your phone. You really were sorry. You wanted nothing more than to see your closest girlfriend. Hell, you even wanted to see Jared. In the time you and Jensen had dated you had gotten close to the entire Padalecki family.
“It’s not like we’re taking sides, Y/N. We miss you,” she said with a sigh.
“It’s not about that,” you replied as you paced your apartment. “It’s just…he’s your family, Gen. He’s always going to be in your lives. And I just can’t—“ You stopped, taking a deep breath. “I just can’t be around him right now.”
“I get it, Y/N/N, I do. Let’s plan a date for just you and me, though, okay? And soon. I need my best friend.”
You felt guilty for not being around more and there for Gen. But you remembered what it was like when you were with Jensen. The four of you did so much together: dinners, long weekends at the lake…and just because you and Jensen weren’t together anymore didn’t mean those events stopped. It just meant you couldn’t bring yourself to be a part of them knowing he would be there.
You’d promised to get together with her the following week before your call ended. You laid down on your bed, and exhausted from a long day. You really did love your job running a small boutique in downtown Austin, even if it was tiring. Jensen had introduced you to the owner at a party before you’d moved to Austin and started living with him. He knew you’d loved all things both vintage and handmade, and figured you would hit it off with Kendra.
Kendra had wanted to take more time to travel, and thankfully had really liked you. So she allowed you to run the day-to-day of the store, and you loved it.
You decided to scroll through social media before going to sleep. Of course the first thing to pop up on your feed was a picture of Jensen.
Pain stabbed at you when you saw his face. He looked handsome as ever, though you noticed he’d continued growing his hair out. You had always liked it a little shorter, like how he kept it for Supernatural.
Guess it doesn’t matter what I think now, anyway.
The headline of the article under the picture was something about Jensen and some pro golfer he’d spent time on the course with. You rolled your eyes.
One of his new “idols,” I’m sure.
Try as you might to not dwell on it, you couldn’t help but be annoyed. Jensen never used to care about big names or other celebrities. You’d missed that attitude toward the end of your relationship. It felt like he was always schmoozing someone at every event he dragged you to.
You locked your phone and put it face down, sighing.
It was so strange to feel the way you did. You were so angry with Jensen. And while you were pissed, it didn’t mean you didn’t miss him. It was the main reason you couldn’t talk to him. You’d just want to get back together with him.
You couldn’t, though. He’d changed too much. He wasn’t the same man you’d fallen for.
You cried as you fell asleep. You cried because you missed him. You cried because you knew you shouldn’t miss him. You cried for the memory of who Jensen was before.
You - Two Years Ago
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You were luckily finishing up your shift at the bar and pulled it out, surprised when you saw a number you didn’t recognize.
Okay, 1000 miles is officially too far.
You smiled, surprised to be hearing from the actor already.
Y: What makes you say that? Didn’t enjoy the views on the drive home?
J: It was beautiful. I was a little distracted, though.
You pulled out your keys before responding, having already made the short walk back to your apartment.
Y: Oh?
J: Yeah. Had trouble getting a certain pair or Y/E/C eyes out of my head.
J: Still can’t.
You felt yourself blushing. You liked to play it cool with the opposite sex—be mysterious, even. But you couldn’t deny that the man made you feel things.
Y: Pretty interesting statement coming from a man who has millions of fans fawning over his eye color.
J: Eh, they like the eyes of a character I play. It’s not like they know me.
Y: And you think you know me?
J: I know enough to wish I knew more.
Y: And you think the way to do that is through texting?
J: Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I’ll get on a plane right now.
You sent him an eye-rolling emoji. While you appreciated the gesture, you wouldn’t want him to actually do that. You wouldn’t want anyone to spend that kind of money on you, actor or not.
Y: How about we play 20 questions before boarding any planes, hot shot.
J: Works for me :)
You and Jensen spent the better part of the evening texting back and forth, asking each other questions as silly as what your favorite colors were to as serious as what your childhoods were like.
J: You know, all this getting-to-know-you does is make me want to see you again even more.
Y: Well, hot shot, if you can make it happen without spending crazy amounts of money, I’d be glad to see you again.
J: Hmm…challenge accepted.
Y: No one is challenging you!
J: It’s my own little challenge, sweetheart. ;) goodnight.
Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.
Jensen x You
Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift
Masterlist
You
You sat the last box down in your living room with a grunt. You’d been lugging boxes into your new apartment all day, and you were exhausted. You let your tired body fall back onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions.
You looked around the room filled with cardboard and the few pieces of furniture you had. You could feel the tears threatening to fill your eyes, and bit your lip to stop them. You pulled out your phone, tapping the name of the only person you could think to call at that moment.
“Hi, baby, how are you doing?” your mom answered on the second ring.
You sighed. “I’ve been better,” you replied, rubbing a hand down your face.
“This really is for the best, you know?” she said, and you could almost picture the sympathetic look she’d have on her face.
“Is it? Cause right now it feels just…horrible.”
“Yes, Y/N, it is. He changed, and you are not the only one who noticed.”
You sighed again. “Thanks, Momma. I better get unpacking. Love you.”
“Love you too, Bug. Pour yourself a glass of wine and just try to relax.”
You smiled as you hung up. Your mom truly was your best friend. You’d called her right after you broke up with Jensen and she’d talked you through it the best she could from nearly a thousand miles away.
After you’d moved to Austin to be with Jensen, you saw your mom a lot less than you’d liked. It was tempting to move back home after the breakup, but you had a job that you really loved, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave it.
You had friends nearby, too. The only problem was that Jensen was the one who introduced you to them, which made you feel a little uncomfortable. Gen had already reached out to you. She’d left a message wanting to get together to hang out. You hadn’t responded yet. You just weren’t sure if you could handle the inevitable conversation she’d want to have about the breakup.
You pulled out your corkscrew and a wine glass from your box labeled “kitchen” and opened the bottle of white wine you’d gotten on your quick grocery trip earlier in the day. As you took your first sip, you sat down again and let your mind wander to the beginnings of your relationship with Jensen.
Two Years Earlier - You
It had been by chance that you’d met the green-eyed actor at a coffee shop in your small town of Salida, Colorado. He’d been on his way home from a fan convention in Denver and had taken a wrong turn. He’d wanted to make the long drive alone to clear his head, and you’d learn later how stubborn he was about using the GPS on his phone.
He’d come into the coffee shop you frequented to get some caffeine and directions. You’d recognized him, of course, since you were a fan of Supernatural. You’d always kept up with the show, but you weren’t a big enough fan to have gone to the convention.
“Excuse me, miss,” you heard, looking up from your laptop in surprise. Though you’d noticed him enter the shop immediately, you’d never expected him to talk to you.
“I’m on my way back to Texas, and I think I’m a little lost. I don’t have any service on my phone, but I’m using the Wi-Fi here to look at Google Maps.”
You nodded, listening to his explanation while still wondering why he was talking to you of all people.
“Can you take a look and tell me if this is a good route back to I-25?” he asked, giving you a dazzling smile. You returned it, and took his phone.
“Sure,” you said, looking at the route his phone was going to take him. It looked fine, which only added to your confusion at the question he was asking you. Surely the app could tell Jensen what the fastest or easiest route was.
“That is a good option,” you said, handing him his phone back. “And when you go through Trinidad, there’s a great little barbecue place off Main Street you should check out. Awesome pulled pork and even better cheese fries.”
He nodded, his eyes surprised. “Thanks—“ he paused, stretching out his hand in an invitation to shake yours.
“Y/N,” you responded, placing your hand in his calloused one.
“Y/N,” he repeated. “I’m Jensen.”
“I know,” you said with a smirk. He let out a chuckle and stood there for another moment, as if deciding something.
“Would it be weird if I asked to buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked finally.
“Hmm, I have coffee,” you replied, glancing at the paper cup in front of you. He seemed to deflate a little, and you quickly continued. “But I would love a scone.”
He smiled again, giving you a wink as he headed to the counter. After he bought your scone and his own coffee, he returned to your table where he asked if he could join you.
You made small talk for a little bit. You told him you liked his show; he asked you about your life in Salida; you joked easily with each other. Before you knew it, a couple of hours had gone by.
“Well, I really should get going. I have a long drive ahead of me,” Jensen said, leaning back in his chair.
“Yeah, good idea,” you responded. You had really enjoyed your talk with him, even if it was just a random moment in your life and you never saw him again.
“Do you think I could see you again?” he asked, looking a little nervous. It was very cute, especially since he was a famous actor.
“Might be a little tough, what with living a thousand miles apart,” you said with a smirk. You saw his shoulders sink a little. “How about I give you my number. If you ever want to talk, I’ll answer.”
“Hmm,” he said, nodding. “It’s not ideal, but I’ll take what I can get, sweetheart.”
You smiled coyly and put your number in his phone. “It was great to meet you, Jensen. I hope we meet again.”
“Oh, I think we will, Y/N,” he said confidently. You shook your head with a smile as he backed away from the table and out the door.
I will never hear from him again, you thought as you watched him get into his car that was parked on the street. Little did you know, one day later he would prove you wrong.
Hello! Since tumblr has a 50-tag maximum, I am trying to clean up my tag lists. If you go to my link below, you can add or remove yourself from any list.
I have only kept my forever tags for now. If you only want certain characters or series, add yourself there, otherwise, forevers get tagged in everything!
Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.
Jensen x You
Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift
stormborns
annaxmalina
baratheonpilled
ellievsbear
kaledo-art
discoholicmusic
