I stared at Jack while he slept over the top of my phone and smiled. I liked Jack but my brothers would never allow a relationship between their little sister and a regular guy, never mind a nephilim of the archangel Lucifer. I sighed and went back to scrolling through my Tumblr feed.
“Y/N,” Dean said.
My head shot up and met my oldest brothers eyes in the rearview mirror. “Yeah?”
“Stop staring at Jack while he’s sleeping. It’s creepy.”
“I’m not staring at Jack,” I said unconvincingly, blushing like crazy. I thanked Chuck that it was dark and tried to calm myself down.
“Yes you are,” Sam said, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “You’ve been staring for a while.”
I huffed. “So.”
“So no,” Dean said, making his signature are you crazy face. “No. You and Jack cannot be… whatever it is you want to be.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “He probably doesn’t even like me. Can we drop it please?”
“I like you Y/N,” Jack said, and everybody jumped. Nobody had realized that Jack had woken up. “I would like to be, um. Your boyfriend. That’s the word right?”
“Yeah, that’s the word. Wait really?” I said.
“Yeah, I really like you but wasn’t sure how to tell you.”
Sam snorted and I turned to look at him and Dean. Sam was holding back laughter while Dean turned from red to purple.
“Dean,” I said, nervously.
“It’s fine Y/N. You and Jack can be what you want to be. I’ll deal with Dean,” Sam said.
“Nope,” Dean said and then everybody erupted with laughter. “Stop laughing. I said no.”
Warnings: the reader’s ex is a controlling/abusive ass, fight scenes, angst, swearing
Word count: 2511
Summary: The Reader is running from her crazy ex and happens to jump into a certain Impala to hide.
A/N: adapted from my other account:)
“Shit!”, you cursed loudly. He’d found you, no matter how far you ran, he always found you. Your ex, Zach, the man who you’d been hiding from for months now. The one who you’d feared for years, who had yelled and hurt you. You’d spent too long running from him, too long looking over your shoulder, nearly paralyzed with fear that he’d be there.
It was a dreary Tuesday night, around 8 PM. Rain dripped down from grey skies, darkened with storm clouds and wet stars. You’d just finished grocery shopping and were walking, bags in hand, back to your motel. It had been two weeks since you last saw him, your ex, and you believed you were in the clear. That you’d finally gotten away. But that false sense of security that had settled over you was ruined when, once again, you turned back and saw him. Wearing a sleazy grey hoodie, peppered with rips and burn holes, his presence chilled your bones. You started walking faster, the motel was close enough that you could make it. But when you heard him yell your name, panic took over. Adrenaline kicked in, and you dropped your groceries. Hearing them clatter to the ground, you took off in a sprint.
When you rounded the corner you saw an empty parking lot, save for a handful of cars. The closest one to you, what you thought was some sort of Chevrolet, already had one of the windows cracked open. It would be easy to shimmy your arms through the slit and open the door, it would only take a few seconds.
So, with that thought, you’d made your decision. You were panting at this point, feet slapping down on the wet pavement in a steady rhythm. When you approached the car, you found the doors were already open. So, without hesitation, you flung them open and practically leapt inside.
Once inside, you sat on the floor of the back seat. Pressing yourself to the ground, you tried to become as small as possible. Your breathing slowed from quick pants to longer sighs while you took a moment to find your bearings. The rain was coming down in buckets now, and you prayed he was far enough behind you that he didn’t see where you’d gone. Maybe he’d stop looking for you, but you knew that wouldn’t happen.
When the two of you were dating, you’d been his. “You’re mine” and “You’re my girl” were frequent phrases he’d use to praise you, to show affection. When you’d tried to leave the first time, you were met with a black eye- which you told your family was from falling down the stairs. The two of you never worked, not even in the beginning. Your personalities and life styles clashed from the get go, but for some reason you stayed- even when you knew you shouldn’t have.
“(Y/N)!!!!”, he bellowed your name through the parking lot and tore you from your thoughts. You shuddered at the sound of his voice, and pressed yourself tighter into the corner. The windows of the car were sprayed with water droplets from the rain outside, you hoped he couldn’t see through the cloudy glass.
Suddenly the front door opened- shit. At first the man entering the Impala didn’t notice you were there. But your cover was blown when he went to retrieve something from the back seat. With a small gasp, you made eye contact with the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. His skin was tanned and practically glowing, even in the dim light. You didn’t even know how to describe the color of his eyes. They were what looked like a dark green. Their color, it was something authors could write books on. Series on even. And never fully capture the beauty, the mystery and mischief dancing beneath the surface, intermingling and fusing with a dark, forest green. With a brief pause you decided his eyes were the color of kelp on the shore, flecked with splinters of driftwood and grains of sand. But when he dropped his gaze to look down at you, the color shifted. It changed from the shorelines of beaches and sea foam, to the oceans themselves. Dark blue and grey and stormy. His eyes shifted into the clouds before a lightning storm, or the smoke before a fire. You were at even more of a loss than before, these beautiful, ethereal, eyes were staring directly into your own. Your gaze trailed to his jaw, firm and powerful, it complemented his pink lips- which were currently pursed in confusion. How god damn attractive he was just made the situation so much worse.
Your cheeks flushed red and you started stuttering, “Um, I can explain, I just, um…” your voice trailed off and you took a deep breath, “I’m hiding from my ex okay? Can you just give me like five more minutes, I’m really really sorry, it’s just, uh, he can’t find me”
You were so flustered at this point, eyes darting around the car and hands breaking into a nervous sweat. But he just nodded with understanding and said, “Is your ex the blonde one yelling your name in the parking lot?”
His voice was deep and sounded as if it was coated in honey. Thick and low, the words bounced off his lips. You nodded your head in response to his question, shaking it furiously up and down.
“Okay, one sec”, he responded in that silvery voice of his.
Your heart skipped a beat as he called out to your ex, still screaming your name, “Hey!”
No, no, no, no you silently panicked, what was this man doing? You were overwhelmed, and had absolutely nowhere to run. You tried pressing yourself even further into the side of the car, to no avail. You were trapped, at the mercy of this stranger you’d only just met.
“Who are you looking for?”, the man asked your ex, Zach, as he ran up to the car.
And Zach launched into a story about how you were mentally ill and needed to be taken home, voice hoarse from the screaming. And you just had to sit there, listening to the rain’s pitter patter interrupting his ridiculous story, and hoping this beautiful stranger wouldn’t believe him. Shivering and shaking, half from the cold and half from fear, you sat there in anticipation. What if the man believed him? What if he opened the car doors and revealed where you were hiding? You shuddered at the thought.
But minutes passed and the man just stood there, nodding his head at various points throughout the story. The mental illness one was common, there was also one where you were an escaped convict or he was a tax collector and you were running away from debt. He never failed to bring a picture of you, everywhere he went it was always brought along. You knew he spent hours stopping people and asking them if they’d seen you around, it was what made you so paranoid. What caused you to constantly look over your shoulder and give aliases whenever asked your name. It was no secret that this man had turned your life into a strung out nightmare of paranoia and sleazy motels. You were always on the run, always on the move.
More minutes passed and then the car door was opened with a click, but the stranger was the only one you saw staring down at you.
“I got rid of him,” he said, voice low and almost annoyed sounding- you wondered why.
“Are you sure he isn’t hiding somewhere?”, you asked, peering out from behind the front seat to look at him directly.
“Yeah, don’t worry he’s gone”, he responded.
“I never got your name”, he spoke again, with a smile this time, leaning over the seats to help you pull yourself from the crouched position you were currently stuck in.
“I’m (Y/N), (Y/L/N)”, you answered, grunting a little as you stretched out your legs.
“(Y/N ) (Y/L/N), I’m Sam Winchester”, he said, again holding out his hand, which you shook awkwardly.
The both of you fell silent; him outstretched in the front seat, leaning over to look at you, and you sitting in the back, fidgeting and glancing around the Impala nervously.
You started to awkwardly shuffled out of the car, but he stopped you when saying, “Wait, um I forgot to tell you, that guy knew the motel you were staying at.”
The same panic from before crept up on you and you starting feeling as if you couldn’t breathe. If he knew where you were living it wouldn’t be long before he caught up to you.
“Wh-what?”, you choked out, running a hand nervously through your hair.
“Do you have anywhere else you can go?”, Sam asked with a sympathetic look.
You shook your head no, but responded with, “I’ll figure something out”
Again you turned to leave, but again he stopped you, this time putting a hand to your shoulder.
“You can stay with my brother and I, we’re in a motel just a few miles from here. We’re only in town for a couple more days, but if you need a place to crash for a few while you figure things out, our door’s open.”
Who was this man? Why was he being so kind to you, you were just a stranger after all. A stranger who had broken into his car and been called mentally ill within five minutes of meeting him. But you trusted him, for some reason. His face was kind, his voice inviting. So you nodded your head, thanked him, and climbed up to the front.
You saw him wince as your booted foot scraped the leather seat as you clambered to the passengers side.
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you one of those guys really in love with their car?”, you asked while hurriedly rubbing your hands over the scuff mark.
He let out a laugh and caught your hands, “No, no. My brother, Dean, it’s his car and he’s definitely one of those guys you just described. Don’t worry though, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”, he replied with a wink. You let out a laugh, something you hadn’t done in weeks. This man had you smiling and giggling as if you were some school girl, untouched by misfortune and hardship.
“Tell me about this Dean”, you responded, making conversation. And even though he was a complete stranger, you found yourself easily talking and opening up to Sam. With him you felt secure, safe even.
“Oh, he’s the less attractive Winchester”, Sam joked, gesturing to himself and rolling his eyes, “I mean that’s what everyone says”
Again you laughed out loud, throwing a hand to your mouth and feeling your lips tug into a smile.
Sam started the car with a turn of his key and a roar of the engine. The entire drive you found yourself watching him. The way he eased on the gas and turned on some god awful rock song while smiling apologetically. Shadows and stray strips of light crawled across his face in the low light of the night. The rain was still tapping on the window and the skylight above, probably not going to stop for a while. And even though cold, rainy nights were your least favorite, you found yourself never wanting this particular one to end.
Throughout the drive you and Sam made conversation, just small talk about your lives and jobs. You lied and told him that you were an accountant, and he lied and told you he was a federal agent. The conversation was easy, never a moment of silence or an awkward pause. You felt everything was easy around this Sam Winchester; talking, laughing, smiling, all of it.
Soon enough you pulled into the parking lot of probably the sleaziest motel you’d ever seen, and you’d seen your fair share. Walking into the room you found the floral wallpaper was peeling and the shag rug was ratty at best. You also saw who you assumed was Sam’s brother, Dean, sitting at the coffee table cleaning a gun. Your body went rigid at the sight of it, you’d never actually seen one in person before.
Sam let out a pointed cough and Dean’s eyes snapped up, meeting your own and then quickly tossing the firearm into his back pocket.
“Dean, this is (Y/N)”, Sam gave a small wave in your direction, you nodded in return. If Sam was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, Dean was the second. His face was stouter than his brothers, but donned the same powerful jaw. His eyes were green. The kind of green that sparkled out of emeralds or freshly cut grass. The kind that brought life back to the plants after long, long months of winter. Paired with them were long ,thick lashes. His lips were a darker shade of red and fuller than his brother’s, you found yourself staring at them absentmindedly.
Those bright green eyes gave you a wink as he said, “Well well well, Sammy finally brought a girl home”
Your cheeks turned pink and you felt yourself inch closer to Sam, who was no doubt feeling the same embarrassment you were.
“Hilarious, but no.”, Sam said back to his brother with a roll of his eyes, and set into the story. He told Dean everything, your ex, the Impala, your motel. When he was finished, Dean’s eyes were narrowed and his lips pursed.
“Who the hell is this guy?”, he responded.
Sam let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah exactly, so (Y/N)’s just gonna crash here for a couple days.”
Looking around the motel room you found only two beds and just assumed you’d sleep on the ratty sofa you saw standing in front of the tv. But Sam started making an actual bed for you, adding more pillows and blankets than you could possibly need.
“Oh no, it’s fine I can sleep on the couch. Seriously I don’t want to take one of your beds”, you said quickly, instantly feeling bad for intruding.
“No way in hell you’re sleeping on the couch. Seriously it’s fine, you can have my bed. Trust me I’ve spent more nights without one than with”, Sam insisted, laughing and nodding.
You shook your head in return with a sly smile, and conceded. If he wanted you to sleep in a gigantic comfortable bed, who were you to decline?
Your smile faded with an abrupt knock at the door. You froze, eyes darting in Sam’s direction. He moved towards the main entrance and cautiously looked through the peephole, you saw the way his shoulders and jaw tensed and knew it was Zach.
“Go hide in the bathroom.”, Sam instructed, the look he gave told you who was at the door. You felt yourself break into a cold sweat and, with one last look at Sam and Dean, you retreated to the bathroom with your hands shaking.
Imagine in order to fight off Lucifer's child, Cas has to knock you up so you too can have a angel/human hybrid child
All hope was gone. A true tragedy. Rumor has it that the Winchesters could kill anything or save the world at the snap of their fingers…but this was something no one expected. Lucifer had a bun in the oven, and no one knew where she was. Now, the Antichrist was on the verge of being born, and the chances of the world not crashing and burning was slim to none.
“Now what?” you sighed as you sat down in a nearby chair, your hands in your hair as stress began to take you over.
“Well,” Sam began, “research could still be helpful…or Crowley, Rowena-”
“Crowley is not going to help us on this, and Rowena isn’t trustworthy!” Dean interrupted.
“Well, do you have any better ideas?” Sam’s arms flew up in the air in frustration before coming down with a harsh slap against his thighs.
“I do,” Castiel spoke up in his monotone voice. All eyes turned in his direction for further explanation. “It took another archangel to battle Lucifer when he was cast out of Heaven…Michael. Michael had the same power as Lucifer, or even more powerful some believe. We need something as powerful as this child…another hybrid.”
“What are you suggesting, Cas?” Dean snapped in confusion.
“I’m saying,” he sighed, “that I could impregnate Y/n, so that when Lucifer’s child is born…so will the Nephilim.”
“What?” the youngest Winchester demanded, his brows knitting together.
“Hell no!” Dean practically yelled at the angel who was growing more and more frustrated by the second, yet no one bothered to ask you about your opinion even though you were the person that had the most control in saying if it was happening or not.
As the tension grew in unison with the volume of their voices, the small string that was holding your mouth shut snapped. “OKAY! ENOUGH!” you yelled as you stood up from your chair. “You two have no say in this! It’s between Castiel and I!”
“Y/n, you seriously aren’t considering this, are you?” Sam asked in a voice that dripped in disbelief.
You only shrugged. “Hey, you guys risk your lives any chance you get just to save one or two people. I think I can do the same for the entire world.”
“Save it, Dean!” With a sigh, you held your lower stomach and closed your eyes. “I’ll do this for you two. For the world. To kill that monster that is growing this very moment somewhere out there…It’s time I do something useful around here.”
Imagine Sam warning Jack about the dangerous of liking Dean’s bestfriend
Jack watched from across the library as both Dean and (Y/n) laughed at something on Dean’s laptop, Sam who sat across from Jack at another table could see the smile forming on his face.
“Jack;” Sam called out loud enough to get Jack’s attention but not gain his brother’s or his brother’s bestfriends attention. “You okay there buddy?”
Jack smiled toward Sam before turning his face back in the direction of (Y/n), “Yes, I’m quite fine.”
“Jack;” Sam licked his lips staring at the side of Jack’s head, “Is there something you want to tell me, perhaps about (Y/n)?”
Jack’s head snapped over towards Sam a hint of red started appearing on both of his cheeks.
He was blushing, Sam noticed. ‘Could Jack like (Y/n)?’ Sam thought to himself before his mind started to wander off of many of the dangerous things (Y/n) has done on hunts.
He thought of the many times she’s come home covered in creatures blood and guts, the time’s where she would inject holy water into dean’s veins or bath them in a tub filled with gallons upon gallons of holy water, and grin when they screamed in pain.
Him and his brothers may be known in the famously known in the hunter community, but she was know as the women from hell.
And Sam was actually think that she might be from hell, but the testes they’ve ran on her would prove other wise.
“I- I’m not sure what you mean Sam.” Jack replies.
“Jack, do you perhaps like (Y/n)?” Sam askes.
“As a friend? Of course I like her as a friend.” Jack responds with his blush getting deeper, “She’s a very likeable person.”
Shaking his head Sam leaned over telling Jack to the same. Jack repeated Sam’s action a bit confused, “No I mean like do you like like her, do you get a weird feeling in your gut and chest?”
“I do not understand why I feel weird in my gut and heart section but I sometimes feel my heart pounding fast around her that she sometimes warns me if that is normal for me.” Jack explains.
‘This is bad. Very bad.’ Sam thinks.
Not wanting to hurt his feelings Sam gave Jack a nervous look, “Jack you cant like her.”
“Why not?” Jack says with his head tilted.
“She’s older then you.” Sam says.
“Dean says older women are the best.” Jack replies.
“She’s a hunter.” Sam replies back.
“She’s a nice hunter.”
“She’s dean’s bestfriend.” Sam says.
Jack pauses and looks back toward the direction of Dean and (Y/n) only to find (Y/n) gone and Dean looking up at them both.
“You look worried, fellas.” Dean says.
Soft, melancholy notes floated through the air as each delicate touch of your finger on a key formed a song that held emotions of your past. It had been forever since the last time you had the chance to play. It even surprised you that remember the song. The broken and dirtied piano left to rot away in this hell hole of a place still carried a beautiful sound, shockingly. Maybe that was sign that even broken things are still beautiful…or maybe you were just thinking too much into it as you usually do.
You weren’t aware of the pairs of eyes staring in your direction. The echoes off the abandoned walls vibrated down the halls and into the rooms that haven’t saw the light of day in ages. The eerie vibes of the present day faded away as the death of the sick came out to be remembered. The forgotten spirits wailed and the tormented settled.
“Y/n…” Dean’s voice broke the flow and then…silence filled the atmosphere once again. “Since when-”
“Don’t worry about it,” you interrupted before standing up and wiping off your hands.
“That was,” Sam started, “beautiful.”
Castiel nodded. “And very sad.”
“Oh-well-um.” You couldn’t find the strength to form the words thanks to the lump in your throat. You looked around the room. “Seemed fitting.”
Sam nodded. “That it is. What’s it called?”
“Cold, by Jorge Mendez.”
The three men just stared at you in awe before the eldest Winchester finally spoke up. “We have got to get you a piano for the bunker.”
Imagine coming out as bisexual to the boys and Cas getting confused.
Chill, Y/n, chill, damnit! Racing thoughts. Pounding heart. Sweaty hands. Why was saying three little words so hard? This was surely enough to send you to an early grave.
No doubt about it, Sam and Dean loved you, but worry struck when the realization of who you were could change that. Honestly, though, it was (and still is) the 21st century. People are changing the norms of society. Get over it…but Sam and Dean were old school. They weren’t up to date with today’s culture.
“Hey, Y/n, snap out of it,” Dean laughed. “Lost you there for a minute. You okay?”
You managed a nod. A streak of courage ran through you less than a second ago, forcing you into the kitchen where the brothers sat saying, “We need to talk.” Now, those golden balls were shriveled up.
“Jesus, you’re pale as a ghost!” Sam exclaimed before shoving you into a seat. “Kiddo, what did you want to talk about?”
Well, screw it. This was your shot. As the Roman poet, Horace, said, “Carpe diem.” As your chest rose with a shaky breath, you closed your eyes. “I-I’m bisexual..” Expecting a horrible response, your eyebrows squinted down to your eyelids, but nothing happened.
“Really?” Dean laughed. “That’s what this is about?”
You nodded. “Why aren’t you guys freaking out? I thought-”
“Bisexual?” Castiel interrupted. “Bi means two. Sexual meaning intimacy. So…two partners at once?”
A loud smack sounded off the walls as Dean face palmed. “It means a person will date a female or male, Cas.”
The poor angel only cocked his head to the side. “And this is a big deal?”
“No,” Sam shook his head, “not to us.”
“Y/n,” Dean started, “look, this isn’t going to change how we see you. It’s just going to change the fact that now I’ll be seeing girlfriends and boyfriends.”
After a bit of silence from Castiel, he began to nod to himself. “Humans need to be loved…so I will find you a lover.”
“What? No, Cas, I’m-”
“What about the redhead, Charlie?”
The mention of her name sent your cheeks up into flames. “No!”
“The boy that delivered the pizza?”
“Oh dear god, no!”
“I am Castiel…You have me mistaken for my father.”
Soft, pleading eyes fluttered to the Winchesters for help but two bright smiles met them. “We’re proud of you, kiddo,” Sam smiled.
It had been six long weeks. Hunt after hunt. Both Winchester’s had been dragged through hell backwards. Vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, demons, not a single break in sight for them. That is, until today.
They were finally coming home today.
Sam was finally come in home.
You padded your feet down to the library, taking a seat in Sam’s chair. You were going to wait up. You wanted to be the first thing that they saw. You wanted Sam to see one thing more than anything.
The bunker door opened as if on queue. The loud screeching was enough to make you jump just a little. You heard the hushed voices of both the brothers, causing your lips to turn up into a smile.
“Hello boys,” you said, trying to imitate Crowley’s voice. You watched both of their heads turn, finding you instantly. Sam’s smile was wide as he ran over to you. You stood up, ready to meet him halfway when he stopped.
“I’m showing,” you finished for him. “’m four months along now.”
“We’ve been gone for so long,” Dean frowned a little. “You’re glowing.”
“Thanks, Dean,” you smirked.
“You’re beautiful,” Sam breathed out, making his way over to you. His hand pressed against your stomach instantly. His hand was big and warm against your belly. “God, I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful and I see you like this.”
“Sam,” you sighed.
“I’m never going to be able to take my hands off you,” he stated, bending down so his face was eye level with your stomach. Each of his hands were on the sides of your stomach before his lips pressed to your bump. “Daddy loves you, peanut.”