Marry me. What? I don’t expect you to believe that I’m sorry or that I love you just because I say it. I need to show you. Marry me. I thought you had to figure things out? I did. I figured out that I’m an idiot. I’m intellectually challenged. Maybe even blind. I couldn’t see that everything that I was looking for was right here. In you. I have a lifetime of work to do to make thing’s right. But I can’t imagine doing it without you. Unless I’m to late. No. No. I don’t want to let go of you…
Imagine waking up having forgotten ten years of your life with Dean.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: This is the sequel to the gif blurb Forgotten. I had never planned on continuing this story, but you guys seemed to want more. Now it’s been a while, so I hope you’re still needy. Hope this doesn’t ruin the first part. I’m nervous about this one.
The whole time while he was doing this scene, when he says the memorable, “Broken ribs and burnt feet,” all I could do was stare at his eyes. He looks truly betrayed.
The slight shimmer of light on his eyes as if he’s going to cry, his mouth twitching because he can’t find words, a faint bob of his adam’s apple as he tries to swallow his disbelief, and most of all the constant darting and avoiding her gaze- it’s like he’s truly remembering the process of torture again and again.. essentially his overall vibe is enough to give me chills.
It’s like his actual mother honest to god betrayed his trust, and you might be thinking “Mishasaurus, that’s what you call acting.” But these little things he does makes the whole picture a bit more clearer, even if they go unnoticed.
You know what that means!!! MORE READING MATERIAL!
As always, if you would like to see your wonderful writing featured on next weeks edition of Fanfic Friday, please tag me in you fic, hell add me to your tag lists (if you have room ;)) If I have not liked your fic within 48 hours, it means that I didn’t get the notification, or I’m super behind and for that I apologize. I try and include everyone, and I try to leave feedback on as many fics as I can!
A/N: This piece is for @wayward-mirage ‘s Rat Pack Challenge. The song I chose was “The Object of My Affection” by Dean Martin. I wrote this while listening to the song, so it’s kind of just what I pictured while hearing it. It is also unedited/unbetad (was typed directly on to Tumblr) so excuse any minor errors I may have missed.
Going under cover wasn’t something Y/N did regularly, but when she got the chance, it was nice to have an excuse to dress up and pretend for a while. This particular case required that Y/N go with Dean to some fancy party posing as his wife so they could try to nail down where this ghost had come from.
Sam had been giving Dean the blues about how eager he was to be the one to pose as her husband. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel and get it over with?”
“Shut up Sam!” He whispered harshly hoping that Y/N hadn’t overheard them from the bathroom. “I can’t okay? You know hunter’s can’t have relationships like that.”
“Oh, but pretending you’re in one will make this better?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”
Sam held up his hands in defeat as Y/N emerged from the bathroom. “Wow! You clean up real good Y/N/N!”
“Ha! Thanks Sam!” She playfully tossed a pillow in his direction before turning to Dean. “I could say the same thing about Dean here. Definitely not the usual fed gear.”
“Thanks.” Clearing his throat he grabbed his keys and held the door open. “Ready?” Y/N nodded and headed for the Impala with a wave to Sam. “Stop it!” Dean pointed at Sam as he whispered ‘tell her’ one more time to Dean.