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#worried!winchesters – @crispychrissy on Tumblr
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Fluff. Angst. Smut. The three food groups.

@crispychrissy / crispychrissy.tumblr.com

I'm Chrissy! I'm 32, female, and not really sure what's going on anymore. I make gifs of shows and movies, so search through my archive if you're in need! I'm a mythology nerd with a strong kink for tall, dark, and broody men with killer smiles. I currently write only Marvel fanfic, but I did previously write for Supernatural and all stories are on my masterlist. NOTE: I no longer post any of my stories on Tumblr due to the horrible post editor and their consistent inaction regarding stolen work, so please visit me on Ao3 to stay up-to-date on new content. MY TUMBLR MASTERLIST
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Alternate Endings

Summary: A few months after she came over from the apocalypse world, curiosity has finally gotten the best of Y/N and she makes a decision that she might end up regretting. Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, other minor OC’s Word Count: 3003 Warnings: Angst, language, worried!Winchesters, reader gets drunk, mention of character death, more angst, then fluff A/N: Again, I feel like I’m the only person that would be curious about stuff like this if I journeyed to an alternate reality. Maybe season 14 will include an episode like this, but only time will tell. This was looked over by several people and beta’d by the ever so lovey @saxxology. Enjoy!

“And do you have a current address for her?” Y/N requested of the man on the other side of the phone. He rambled off an address and she jotted it down on the notepad in front of her before cautiously looking around for anyone else that might be close enough to hear what she was doing. The bunker’s library was empty, save for her, and she nervously tapped the end of her pencil on the notepad as the gentleman continued to ramble.

Sam Winchester had forbidden it, but after all the tragedy she had experienced in her life while in that horrible apocalyptic world, she deserved to see what her counterpart in this world had accomplished. After several Google searches resulted in no leads, she resorted to calling the town clerk’s office in the small town she grew up in, hoping this world’s Y/N was born in the same town. She was, and the woman from the clerk’s office was very helpful and started a chain of leads that had finally ended with the gentleman she was speaking with.

She had an address after three long weeks of searching.

“Hey, Y/N. What are you working on?”

She jumped at the sound of Dean Winchester’s voice and the phone slipped from her grasp, abruptly ending the call as it clattered against the wooden table. She clutched her chest in fear and scowled at the amused look on his face.

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