the notes just came over night this is like over a month old holy crap

Somewhere, Someday, part ten

Characters – Sam x Reader, OC x Reader, Dean, Cas

Summary – The reader continues to hide her deepening feelings for Sam, even while her heart is breaking.

Word Count – 3,426

Warnings – None

A/N – All right, ladies and gents, just a head’s up: I don’t plan on going into the events that were in the show in this story.  I’m might take a few things here and there that match well with where this particular story is going (i.e., the bunker location), but it won’t be canon.  I’m just not up for a series rewrite – sorry!  But I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

However, if you are interested in reading a reader-insert series rewrite, @torn-and-frayed has a Dean x Reader one that is just freaking amazing that you all have to go check out.  She is up to season 5 so far (as of this posting); you can find it here.

Catch Up: Somewhere, Someday Series Masterlist

Originally posted by themegalosaurus

Your name: submit What is this?

Sam’s arms had relaxed around yours again, and you rested your head against his chest for the rest of the drive home.  While Dean drove, you thought back on the few boys who’d had the courage to ask you out. You had shared some steamy make out sessions with a couple of them, but it had never really gotten farther than that. Now, you realized that you’d always been looking for that connection you had with Sam.  And you’d never found it.  No one else had ever been good enough for you.  Not because they weren’t amazing, sweet, smart guys.  But because they weren’t Sam.


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Winchester!Reader: Like Father, Like Daughter

Fandom: Supernatural
Original Imagine: Imagine being Dean’s teenage daughter and being told to stay in a motel room while he hunts a demon that only kills virgins. He panics, thinking it’s going to kill you, only to discover you’re no longer a virgin.
Reader Gender: Female
Warnings: Mentions of sex, cursing
Word Count: 3,723
Note: Requested by Anonymous for the Supernatural Imagine blog. This is written in first-person, because, in the long run, it was easier to write that way. Also, I’m imagining that this is somewhere in the tail-end of season eight, or the first half of season nine; the boys have discovered the bunker, but Dean has not received the Mark of Cain, yet. The reader is about seventeen—young, I know, but when you’re a Winchester, you grow up a lot quicker than most. And when Dean’s your father…there are definitely things that you get exposed to at an early age. (And, yes, this means that Dean fathered the reader when he was only about eighteen…It just seems plausible, because, come on, it’s Dean.) And for kind of obvious reasons, the reader has a given middle name and surname.

I didn’t remember my mom very much. Besides, I didn’t even really think there was anything to remember, since I had never spent much time with the woman. According to my dad, Dean Winchester, I had been abandoned on Grandpa Bobby’s doorstep when I had barely been a month old. And according to Uncle Sam, there had been a note pinned to my blanket, written in cursive that looped angrily: “I still have college expenses to worry about. You got me pregnant, so you get to shoulder the responsibility for your kid, you son of a bitch.”

Not that I minded, of course, being raised by Dad. To be honest, I liked the life I had. It was exciting to be raised as a hunter. Sure, there were times when it absolutely sucked, like when Dad had gone to Hell or when he’d been lost in Purgatory, or when Grandpa Bobby had died. But despite the heart-shattering losses, I lived a life of adventure. While most kids my age were worrying about school or who their date for the next lame-ass dance was going to be, I was out hunting monsters and traveling the country.

And frankly, if my mom had had the decency to keep me, I would have had a pretty boring, apple pie life.

I’d choose Dad and Uncle Sam any day.

But, like with any family, we definitely had our problems. Especially when I took after Dad. A lot.

Like my need for speed. In fact, there had been more than one occasion where I’d totaled my vehicle because I had taken a turn just a little too fast. And I had definitely had my fair share of scolding for those instances, though more so from Uncle Sam than Dad.

And not to mention my love of greasy diner food; I’d definitely choose a burger and fries over a salad. Or, as Dad likes to call it, “Rabbit food.” That was another thing that got Uncle Sam on my case more so than Dad.

And, just like Dad, I preferred good old classic rock. I didn’t really care that it was “before my time.” I loved me some AC/DC and Metallica, and preferred that over the flowery, poppy crap that was so popular with other girls my age.

But I was certain that if they ever found out that I also took after Dad when it came around to having one-night stands, my ass would be grounded for eternity.

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Best Halloween Ever

Happy Halloween :) 

Based on this imagine



“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Dean said, watching his brother put on the denim vest.


“Dressing up for Halloween! Dressing up as a Disney character! Being Y/N’s bitch! Take your pick.”

Sam chuckled, fastening the vest closed. “You’re just jealous.”


“She offered for you to come with us.”

“Yeah, dressed as a horse!”

“Or a chameleon. She gave you options.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Do you even know who you’re supposed to be?”

“Kind of. I mean, Y/N’s made me watch Tangled a few times, but we… sometimes don’t get to the end…”

Dean chuckled. “Naughty.”

“Shut up.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Well, how do I look?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

Sam rolled his eyes slightly. “Compared to the picture.”

Dean looked down at the picture on Sam’s phone. He had to admit, his brother did bear a striking resemblance to the cartoon character. “Do you really have to wear that man purse?”

Sam sighed– Dean was always so difficult.

“What do you want from me, Sam? You’re wearing the same clothes as a cartoon character; you’ve got his hair. You look pretty much the same. But did you really expect anything different? Y/N’s so into Halloween it’s scary.”

“Give her a break. So she loves Halloween. What’s wrong with that?”

“Dressing up for Halloween should have an age limit.”

“But what about all those sexy nurses and pirates and mail carriers?”

Dean’s eyes glazed over slightly, his mouth turned up in a smirk. “That’s the one good thing about this holiday. Well, that and the buttload of candy.” Dean’s face dropped in horror. “Dammit, I didn’t get any candy! The stores are probably picked clean by now.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh at his brother. “If we get anything, I might bring some back for you. Might.”

Sam stepped from his room and headed towards yours. He gently knocked on the door, adjusting the strap on the satchel, making sure it was still tightly clasped.

“Come in.”

Sam turned the handle in his hand and swung the door in. You stood in the center of the room, your back to him. You turned, giving him a small smile.

“You look great!” you said, stepping over and bouncing on your toes, pressing a small kiss to Sam’s lips.

“So do you.” Sam’s eyes were trailing over the dress, noting the small details that you’d put into the garment. It had taken you a month to piece this dress together, stitching here and there between hunts. While he didn’t remember the entire movie, Sam did know enough to recognize that your dress was almost an exact replica of the one from the cartoon.

And you looked absolutely stunning in it.

“Are you ready to go?” you asked.

Sam nodded. “I tried to get Dean to come but he’s refusing.”

“Party pooper,” you said with a smile. You reached for a large cauldron beside your bed. Sam saw that it was filled with all sorts of candy. He followed you out into the hall, noticing that there was a small stuffed chameleon stitched to the shoulder of your dress.

‘Queen of the details,’ he thought to himself with a smile.

The two of you found Dean in the living room, already stretched out on the couch, a six-pack sitting next to him. Freddy Krueger was on screen, slicing and dicing poor teenagers.

Dean looked over and froze, beer raised halfway to his lips. “Damn,” he finally said. “And I thought Sam’s costume was intense.”

The smallest of blushes filled your cheeks. “I just… really like Halloween, okay?”

“I know,” Dean said, his eyes trailing over your costume. “Did you honestly make that yourself?”

You nodded.


You handed the cauldron to Dean. “Here. I figured you would forget to go get some yourself, so…”

Dean’s mouth dropped as he dug through the candy. “Holy crap, Y/N…. this….”

You leaned down and pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “Happy Halloween, Dean.”

“You, too, princess.”

You slipped your hand into Sam’s and headed for the garage, leaving Dean to pig out. You could already hear his moans of pain that he would be emitting later this evening. But that was a problem for a later time. Now it was time for you and Sam to head to the big Halloween carnival in the next town over.

Once you got to the garage, Sam reached down and opened your car door. “After you, Princess.”


The carnival was wonderful. Everyone was dressed up and the smell of sweets and fried foods filled the air. Lanterns and flickering lights lit up the place. Children screamed with joy and fright while the adults wandered around, judging the costumes. You signed yourself and Sam up for the costume contest, even though you doubted you’d win.

The two of you rode the Ferris wheel, the tilt-a-whirl, and the haunted house roller coaster. You shared a candy apple, Sam laughing when you couldn’t find a place to bite into it at first. A photographer dressed like Charlie Chaplin came by and snapped a picture of the two of you, handing you a claim ticket.

“Picture will be ready in an hour. You can pick it up at the front gate.”

At that moment, the costume contest was announced. You and Sam made your way to the stage, lining up with the rest of the contestants. There were some beautiful costumes. You stood and let the judges examine you, trying not to feel nervous as they huddled together and whispered.

“All right, the judges have their winners. Third place goes to the decaying zombie!”

You clapped, watching a sixteen-year-old lurch forward for their trophy.

“Second place goes to the littlest mermaid!”

You smiled, watching as the parents carried their little baby over to the judges. The baby squirmed, the tail flopping around.

“And first place…. Rapunzel and Flynn Rider!”

You stood in shock until Sam gently nudged you forward. You took the trophy in hand and the two of you smiled for yet another picture.

“Good job, baby,” Sam said, pressing a kiss to your temple as the two of you walked back down the main drag of the carnival. He held the trophy in one hand, the other holding you to him.

“I can’t believe we won,” you said with a smile. “I just… I don’t think this night could get any better.”

Sam pursed his lips. “Listen… you know how in the movie, Flynn’s a thief?”

“Of course.”

“Well…. Would it be wrong for this thief to give the princess something?”

You looked up at him. “Like what?”

Sam stopped walking. You watched as he set the trophy on the ground before slipping his hand into the satchel. Then he dropped to his knee and held out a black velvet ring box.

“Y/N… will you marry me? Be my Rapunzel for the rest of my life?”

“Sam!” You dropped down, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Of course, I will!” Your lips found Sam’s as his arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you into him.

The crowd of clowns, witches, mummies, and vampires began to clap.

Sam slipped the ring onto your finger before helping you stand. “Happy Halloween, Y/N.”

“Best Halloween ever,” you said with a smile.