#jared padalecki one shot

[lilousmustaches]

Always keep fighting

Warnings: Depressive and insecurity thoughts.

Notes: I was always afraid of naming one of my stories "Always keep fighting" because i used to think that it had to be perfect. I think this one earned it gracefully. You have my heart in it. Rewatching Supernatural 10 years after and all of it just making the same sense to me as when i was just a kid... gave me the confirmation that i'm always going to have where to come back to. Thank you.

Summary: A very meaningful intimate conversation with the one who helped you overcome your depression many years ago. Jared Padalecki.

Platonic!Jared Padalecki x Reader / Jensen Ackles x Reader

You breathed out tired, closing your eyes feeling the sun and a slight breeze hit your face. Billie Eilish’s voice was playing max in your AirPods isolating you from the noises around like that would give you some peace of mind. 

You were in the middle of filming a season of Supernatural and honestly your life was great. Expect it wasn’t. Well… it was really, nothing really bad was happening, you had an incredible job, amazing friends, amazing fans, there was no drama. But the stress was winning you over and you could feel yourself slowly drifting away into a dark place again, just like when you were younger and what looked like a innocent wave of sadness, turned into 3 years of anti depressives. You heard once that when you have depression one time, it never go away. Not completely. You live your life “sober”, but if you don’t watch it out, any trigger can throw you into the pit once more. 

But it was adult life right? How could you escape the stress of having to do a house moving, working really hard for too many hours, being rejected for a job that you really wanted, sleeping with a coworker who you were in love with and he disappearing after… Normal adult things. There wasn’t no time to cry about it while listening to Billie Eilish. 

You opened your eyes when felt a presence besides you, and you took of your AirPods when saw Jared installing himself near you, in the bench below a tree that was located in a quiet spot in the supernatural set. He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking straight ahead like everything was normal. 

“Hi Jar.” You said still a little confused but waiting to see what this was about. 

“Hi (Y/N)” He said simply still looking ahead. “What were you listening to?” 

“New Billie’s album.” You said with a little smile and Jared finally looking at you with an excited face, he was wearing his grey beanie and a white hoodie. 

“It’s so good right?” He said making you chuckle. 

“Yeah…” You answered frowning your eyebrows. “What are you doing here Jar? I thought you didn’t even had scenes today.” 

“Had some audio problems I had to solve for that forest scene.” He explained and turned his attention straight ahead again. “And thought it would be a good opportunity to check on you.” 

“Check on me?” You asked laughing a bit confused. “You see me practically everyday” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I knew we had to talk.” He said turning more serious and your heart started to sunk in your chest. “I know you (Y/N). For real.”

You sighed giving up on trying to hide, Jared was one of your best friends and you two always understood each other very well. That included noticing each other’s mood swings and knowing all about the other’s personal life’s. You stayed quiet for a few seconds before breathing out. 

“I didn’t get that part that I really wanted.” You admitted feeling almost ashamed of saying out loud, sensing a bitter taste in your mouth. It was the main role for an adaptation of a book that you loved, and you felt like you were the perfect person for it. Apparently not. 

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I know how excited you were.” He said quietly putting his arm around your shoulder to give a squeeze. “Did they tell you why?” 

“Nothing concrete.” You struggled. “Random excuses and pre written messages.” 

“That sucks.” He agreed and made a long pause. “But it was just another project, other ones will appear and besides… it would mess up your schedule with Supernatural!”

You rolled your eyes and looked at him with a little smile. 

“Jared we both know Supernatural is coming to an end. Everybody is moving on, thinking about what to do next. You’re already writing your project, hell, Jensen is in L.A right now signing contracts for The Boys.” You said and saw him struggling on what to say. He knew you were right. You entered the Supernatural cast many years ago and it was like a dream coming true. Your career got some much better, the working environment was everything you could ever ask for, you met your best friends and had incredible fans. Being a female character in the show, you didn’t think you would last that much. But you did and you were happy about it. But all the things in life get to a point when you start wanting more, and now, knowing that Supernatural has to end, you found yourself lost. Stagnated. Scared what would happen to your career after this. You were a few years younger than J2 and thought the industry would be open to welcome you, but wasn’t at all what was happening. 

“(Y/N) we still have, at least, one year before we will be really done with Supernatural. That gives you more than enough time to figure it out.” He said like it was obvious. 

“Jar, I know” You said with a sad smile looking at him. “All the rationalized things you were going to say to me, already crossed my mind. I know everything is technically ok. I’m just…” You stopped yourself sighing, gathering the courage to admit it. “I’m just sad.”  

Jared looked at you with a suffered expression and you saw for a split second a look of surprise in his face.

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful to the universe, God, or whatever there is out there.” You continued making him open a small smile. “I know I have time, I just moved to a better apartment, I should be thankful. But I’m just so sad. I don’t even know how to explain it.” 

“I understand it.” He said sincerely looking straight into your eyes, giving you all of his attention. “The guilt that comes with having everything great around you and feeling all of this. Believe me, I do.” Jared said and you knew what he was talking about. About his depressed phase that gave life to all of the campaigns. You two shared a lot of conversations in that period, specially because you had history as well.  “I noticed you were not acting like yourself these past days, I was waiting for you to come talk to me, like you always had.” 

You looked away again feeling a bit ashamed. 

“I didn’t feel like talking.” 

“(Y/N).” He said turning his body to face you, making you look at him again. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling like this. You were one of the people who helped the most when I was depressed. You remember what you would say? That it wasn’t my fault, it was just literally a chemical default in my brain. That’s what depression is. A sickness that affects our brains. You passed through a lot of stress these last weeks, it’s completely understandable the way you’re feeling.” Jared said serious squeezing your shoulder. You closed your eyes to stop yourself from crying.

“I just feel like I’m not enough.” You admitted and finally let one tear drop. Jared stayed in silence, making you open your eyes seeing him with a hard expression looking at you like he trying to read you.

“There is another reason why you’re feeling like this?” He asked and you looked down, wondering if you should tell him or not. 

“Hmm I kinda got ghosted?” You said and saw him raise an eyebrow. “Well, no. I know the guy is super busy right now, I don’t blame him. But there’s a little voice in my head telling that it was the perfect timing to get out of the situation and not give me further explanation that he in fact.. don’t want me that way.” 

“Are we talking about Jensen?” Jared asked in a funny way and laughed when saw your surprised face. “(Y/N), I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to know but he told me that you guys slept together after that night we were in his house…” 

“Yeah, I should have figured this out.” You said allowing yourself to chuckle, running your hand over your face. “So yeah, this finally happened…” 

“Finally!” He exclaimed happily trowing his hands in the air. 

You and Jensen were always unfinished business. When you entered the series, you were young, single and adventurous and it didn’t take long to start crushing on Jensen. Hard. The kind of crush you weren’t even functioning right when he was around. Looking at it right now, maybe it was in that moment that your bond with Jared started to grow, he was always your confident. But none of it mattered, because Jensen… wasn’t single. And eventually you got over it, it was never going to happen so why was the point of growing expectations. Until Jensen wasn’t in a relationship anymore, there were flirts here and there, what of course didn’t last long because you were already meeting someone. And for years and years it was like that, you were simply never single at the same time. When all of that changed some months ago, when the two of you ended long last relationships. But it was really two weeks before that it all turned very real. 

Flashback on

You had  just shooted the mid season finale and man, you were tired. Everyone was going to get 1 week away from filming, but that didn’t mean vacation days. You were in the middle of an, very overwhelming, apartment moving in Vancouver and in the end of the week, you had a trip planned to Chicago to participate in the first day of a Supernatural Convention. The boys were going to get a second week off to attend to more appointments, but the directors wanted you, Misha and other secondary characters to advance the maximum of scenes possible. 

To celebrate and just cool off for a while, Jensen invited you, Jared and Misha to eat some pizza and drink some beers in his place. In the next day, he and Misha were already going to travel to L.A and Jared to Austin, to see his family. 

“So it’s already late and I need some sleep before catching that plane.” Misha said getting up of the chair he was in. “Have a safe fight you guys, and (Y/N) see you on Friday?” He asked and you nodded giving him a small smile. He was going to be your pair to the Chicago Convention, and the two of you would come back together to Vancouver, not even crossing paths with J2 because there was going to attend just the third day of #SpnChicago.

“Yeah, actually I’m going to enjoy the lead and get going as well.” Jared said sighing getting up, slapping hands with Jensen and then turning to you. “You comin’ also?”  

You didn’t want to go actually. It has been ages since you last went out with them like that and it was the first time in days that you were able to get away from your problems. You looked at Jensen to see what the thought and caught he already looking at you, denying with his head. 

“Nah (Y/N), we still have that wine you gave me for my birthday to drink.” Jensen said getting up from the couch you were in, to open the door for the boys. “Stay as long as you want.”

“I think I’m to stay.” You agreed. “Have a safe fight guys.” 

With all of the goodbyes being said, Jensen closed the door of his apartment immediately disappearing into the kitchen. He came back with two glasses of red wine, extending one to you while he returned to his previous place, sitting with his whole body turned to you and you did the same.

“I can’t believe you still didn’t drink that.” You chuckled. 

“Well, of course not! It was your gift, nothing more fair than drinking it with you.” He said like it was obvious, extending his glass. “Cheers” 

Half bottle after, you both were already tipsy, laughing about everything and somehow, closer to each other than before. You spoke about the series, about the bittersweet feeling of it ending. About how excited he was for Soldier Boy and at the same time nervous. He listened to you speak about the role you were auditioning for and gave you his whole support. You even gossiped a little, about Misha’s divorce. After that, somehow the conversation got to the point of relationships and you both shared a lot of thoughts and insecurities about it. 

Jensen smiled when the conversation got to a pause, letting his hand fall to rest in your arm that was leaning in the sofa. You hold your breath when felt his thumb slowly starting to caress you and your belly suddenly got cold when he started to stare at you.

“I just can’t believe that we’re finally single at the same time.” Jensen chuckled in a hoarse voice. You bite your lip, resting your glass into the center table and saw him doing the same thing. 

“That makes a difference?” You challenged him seeing him grin. 

“You know it does, sweetheart.” He said putting a strand of hair behind your ear and you wondered if he could hear the sound of your heart beating. “I always knew you had a crush on me.” 

“I did not.” You said faking a false indignation and you both laughed. “I actually thought it was the other way around.” 

“Guilty.” He admitted making you gulp. “All of those years… us trying to move on from each other. And look at us now… single at our thirties, at the same place we would be in since the start if we weren’t so damn stubborns.” 

You stayed in silence for a few seconds, staring each other like you could see each other’s souls. His eyes were in a dark green filled with lust and when you saw his glance lowering to your lips, you knew you couldn’t take any more of that.

“Kiss me Jensen.” 

“You have no idea on how many years I’ve waited for you to say that.” 

And you didn’t had to ask twice.

XXxxXXXxxxXXXxxXX

You opened your eyes confused still in a dark room, and in a very comfortable bed. You glanced at your phone in the bedside table seeing it was already 12h. The memories from last night started to invade your mind, making you sit up in a rush and frown when you noticed that Jensen wasn’t there. 

Oh right, he had a flight to catch. 

Wearing one of his shirts and his flipflops you found next to his bed, you walked until the living room and saw in his dinning table, an order bag from your favorite bakery and a little post it. 

“Morning sweetheart, 

I’m sorry If I couldn’t wake up by your side today. My flight leaves 8:30 am and I didn’t want to bother you.

I ordered your favorites things from that French bakery you like, to compensate it.

Last night was amazing and I can’t wait to see you again. 

Make yourself at home, stay as long as you want.

-Jensen.” 

You suppressed a smile feeling like a damn teenager, with all of that butterflies in your belly. This really happened. You and Jensen. 

You laughed adjusting yourself in one of the chairs, you had a delicious breakfast waiting for you after all. 

Flashback Off

That day you woke up alone in Jensen’s house, you passed still a few hours there before going back to your reality. The keys weren’t really a problem cause he had an electronic lock. You send him a photo of you eating the breakfast, which he rapidity replied with an emoji of heart eyes. 

But of course, your mind needed to start sabotaging you. You knew Jensen wasn’t the type of guy to text a lot, and you weren’t teenagers with no responsibilities, you were both busy as fuck. But you would be lying if you said if you didn’t expect a little more. Not even seeing his face for 2 weeks after you had sex, gave you so much spare time to question yourself. 

Had he really liked? He was regretting it? He realized you were actually better as friends? Why he didn’t answer your meme? How your relationship would be when he got back from L.A?

“Look.” Jared started after you explained all of it to him. “Don’t beat yourself for feeling it, your feelings are valid and I can see where they are coming from.” 

“It’s true that he could have been more present, but we both know how Jensen is  when comes to answering messages.” Jared continued laughing humorless. “But c’mom (Y/N), it’s you and Jensen were talking about! The guy has been wanting you for years.” 

“I don’t know Jar.” You sighed. “It’s like my mind knows the rationalized facts but still chose to give me the wrong answers.” 

“Are you eating right?” He asked all of that sudden surprising you. 

“Yeah…” You started and huffed when saw his accusatory face. “Ok, maybe I’m skipping breakfast.” You admitted and rolled your eyes when he didn’t back down. “No, I’m not eating right. Are you happy?” 

“No!” He cried. “You’re under stress, you’re isolating yourself, a lot of things are happening in the same time, you’re not eating right, you’re not exercising. You’re going running with me tomorrow by the way.” 

“Jared you know I hate running” You said indignant.

“I don’t care.” He cut you off. “What I’m trying to say is that you and me both… (Y/N) we have to look out for ourselves, you know that. I don’t think you’re depressed again but I think you’re in the edge of it.” Jared said making you shiver. You thought about it, damn you thought you already were. But hearing it from your best friend’s mouth, who always went to hell and back to help you, was rough. Really rough. 

“I…” You started slowly afraid of the words that was going to come back out of your mouth. “I would never forgive myself if I let me go back to that dark hole I was 10 years ago.” 

“Then don’t.” Jared struggled like it was the point of the whole conversation until now. “Can you imagine all the things you would have missed if you gave up by the first wave of depression? Young (Y/N) would have not believe she would sleep with Jensen Ackles.” He said mocking you to lighten up the mood a little bit and you allowed yourself to laugh even if was pretty hard listening to all of that. 

“Call your therapist. I’m going to ask to the producers to give you one more week off.” He continued and you open your mouth ready to argue with that nonsense. “Don’t argue with me on that one. You already have tons of advanced scenes, you need time to rest. And… stop taking life so serious honey, you have time, you’re going to figure out ok? Let yourself be surprised by it.” 

Jared said searching your eyes and saw you nodding slowly. He pulled you for a tight hug resting his head on top of yours. Your eyes were closed and for the first time in a week, you breathed out feeling calmer. Not even Billie Eilish accomplished this. 

“What do we do?” He asked in a slash joking slash serious tone, speaking like you were a little child. 

“We always keep fighting?” You said a little unsure and felt his chest vibrate when he started to laugh. 

“That’s my girl.” Jared said tightening the hug before backing away. “I love you.” 

“I love you too moose.” You said with a small smile feeling a lot better. “Thank you.” 

“I’m always here.” He said getting up. “I need to go back now.” 

You nodded and when you were in the point of putting back your AirPods, he stopped, some steps away from the bench you were. 

“Oh… and (Y/N). Jensen already arrived from L.A” He smiled. “Let life surprise you.” 

You denied with your head letting a small laugh escape from your lips, when you were reliving all of this conversation. One thing that Jared said was completely right, young (Y/N) would have been so proud and surprised by your accomplishments. You survived. This was an everyday motive to be proud already. Your thoughts were interrupted when the screen of your phone lighted up with a notification. 

“Hey sweetheart… I’m finally back in Vancouver and dying to see you. There is so much I want to tell you. And so much I wanna do to you… 

What do you say about going to that Italian restaurant at 20h? I will pick you up. 

Always yours,

Jensen.” 

Tagging: @esoltis280@smoothdogsgirl@helloangelicaaaaa@sleepylunarwolf​ @sympathyforluci​ @mirandaaustin93​ @atc74​ @spnbaby-67​ @reginaphalange2403​ @hi-my-name-is-riley​ @mychemicalimagines​ @multifandomlover121 @nyotamalfoy

[boykingscourt]

you're serving face? someone is breaking into your apartment and you're serving face???

[rubyvhs]

early mornings | sam & dean

tags. pure fluff, mentions of sex once, 800 words lailas notes. loved doing this, first time trying headcannons style nd you didn’t specify so I did both sam and dean. theme inspired by @sammyluvr their’s is honestly so so gorgeous.

sam winchester !

— .✦ You both had sex the night prior, and so Sam is the sweetest human in the morning. It's in the bunker and you're still asleep but he wakes up for his five am runs and just admires you for ten minutes.

— .✦ You eventually wake up and at first are very much panicking. Where is he, did you do something wrong, is he mad.

— .✦ He comes back with breakfast. In bed. 

— .✦ "Sam, I'm really impressed that your best quality isn't your di—"

— .✦ "I'm trying to do something sweet." Yeah but why would he do it if not to hear your teasing?

— .✦ You also just hide your insecurities behind jokes and banter so maybe that's why Sam shut it down when he heard it. You both eat in bed and he picked up your favorite which makes you fall in love (and scream inside) a thousand times more. 

— .✦ You're so insanely terrified but you're also comfortable. He's your best friend and now he's something so much more. You thought yesterday was a one off but he's so clearly in this for the long run that you're beaming the entire day. It's the best morning you've ever had.

— .✦ He even tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, which is just so very fairytale Sammy. And it makes you feel unreal. 

— .✦ He's surprised when you kiss him after you're both done and off the bed. He's even more surprised when you don't immediately leave his room, instead shower in his bathroom and change into his clothes. 

— .✦ He kisses you the second he sees you in his flannel. And he blushes like crazy.

— .✦ Sam hopes he can spend the rest of his mornings in bed with you, and if all it takes is some breakfast he's more than ready.

— .✦ He tells Dean he'll be looking for cases in his room today and doesn't let you go. He never wants the morning to end. He spends the day in bed with you, your head on his lap or his chest, anything as long as you're touching him. 

dean winchester !

— .✦ Your alarm blares AC/DC and he wakes up with a jump, arming his gun under the pillow until he sees that there's no threat.

— .✦ He almost wakes you up just out of principal because why the fuck is your alarm doing nothing to you but waking him win a frenzy.

— .✦ Then he notices how cute you look, hair ruffled on the bed. Your soft breaths make him smile and he leans down to kiss your hair. He's blissed out for a moment and forgets about what you did to him. 

— .✦ Then he checks the time and it's already eleven which means that was your emergency alarm (in case you don't wake up at a reasonable time, you mentioned once). 

— .✦ "Sweetheart, wake up." He says, against his will. He only slightly shakes you but you get up pretty easily since someone else is touching you. You've always been a much heavier sleeper than Dean, not being a hunter from such a young age and all that.

— .✦ He's surprised to see how quickly you get up and into the bathroom to brush your teeth and take a shower (which he joins you in) and then get dressed.

— .✦ But that's about as much as he lets you do. He knows you're an action type of person but that means that sometimes you might not take a moment for yourself and just feel instead, which is the worst thing Dean can think of. 

— .✦ He doesn't want that for you so he gets you back in bed (after he makes it, you're very picky) and you spend a good few minutes above him, straddling his body as you both talk about random things, mostly the plan for the day and it's the most domestic Dean's ever felt. 

— .✦ Your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, it's everything he's ever wanted. Someone to want to be alive with because the only reason you stay alive is to share it with someone else. (After a while Sam doesn't cut it and he'd rather have you over his pain-in-the-ass little brother any time.)

— .✦ You eventually do get on with the day and walk around the bunker, find cases, go grocery shopping, but Dean only does all of those things in suspense of what's to come the next morning; which is another lazy few hours with this ‘one’.

[floralscented]

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ━ㅤ ㅤ sam winchester.

the tale of the lord of the sea and the gentle maiden whose home was always amongst the waves.

a poseidon reimagining, through the veiled, handcrafted lens of sam winchester and reader, who brings gods to their knees, addressed as pearl, fem pronouns. interconnected standalone sequel to life unto death.

content warnings. discussions of death & drowning. poseidon is not a total monster. no happy ending. open ending.

word count. 5k

it did not stop pouring the day that the village drowned.

she was always disconnected from the rest of the townsfolk, pearl was. an enigma, her parents sighed in her mention; an enigma, her peers snickered at her presence; an enigma, he whispered to himself, as he watched from the horizon as her entire cruel town was engulfed in lapping wakes of water.

he did not let the water, not a single drop, land on the roof of her cottage by the seaside.

it was not an uncommon occurrence for him to linger atop the shores, breathing in air that he did not need to breathe, so long as he could taste the same salt-twinged air as her.

the town did not rise from the depths, and the water did not draw back into the sea, and yet throughout all of this, pearl did not leave.

he had never been frightened that she would. he'd never doubted her at all, as every other person in her life seemed to. there was something about his pearl that called to him, and as she got more determined, or perhaps more frustrated, she braved the harsh waves and answered his own calls.

there were no words for the goddess she had become in her seclusion. little starfish clung to the glittering, salted strands of her now curled hair; freckles dusted her skin like raindrops; and her pink coral mouth was turned down into the prettiest sneer he'd ever seen.

"why have you forsaken me like this?" she calls from the shoreline that marred the front entrance to her small home. "what have i done to deserve this isolation?"

he was certain that her eyes were locked onto his. he could feel the penetrating gaze of her defiance, her devastation. and, as he'd done many times since his accidental discovery of the girl with salt water in her blood, he took the wind between his fingers and forged a note in between its gusts, and let his words be carried over the miles between them.

you are not isolated, they curl around her ear and promise, for you have me.

maybe he was a selfish bastard; but weren't all gods? give a man an inch, and he will take a mile. give a god an inch, and he will drown the cruel town that tormented his fascination.

she had began to start calling him samuel, his pearl. a title which translated to the name of god, all of which were true, he figures. can't argue with. the mer beneath the ocean's waters called him poseidon, though his attachment to that name slipped away the longer that pearl spoke to him.

and gods, was her mouth colorful. even when he was beneath the surface of the waves, he could hear her cursing him to every other god that she could name - of which he was certain his brothers were getting quite the laugh over.

he did not fully understand her discontent, however: he'd saved her. spared her from the drowning inside of her mind, and from the drowning he unleashed upon her home. the problems of humans were the size of salt grains, to him, and so he could not figure out how to empathize with her, or to apologize.

that day, the cruel twist of pearl's words had fallen off into resignation. poseidon could never deny himself something he wanted or longed for, and so it was easy to rise above the lapping water and steal a peek at the girl of salt water. her fingers danced over the water's surface, playing with the gentle waves that he sent to her. the god of the sea, gone molten in the presence of a woman made up of flame and ire.

"i know you listen to me, samuel," she says, and the rolling waves, his most loyal of messengers, carries the sound of her voice back to him, "i ask you again what i have done, to be trapped in the center of your seas, with no one for company. not even you, who stays beneath more than you come to play."

the cruelest of bastards could not even deny such invitations. the seas parted, revealing a coral lined surface beneath their depths, as he began the distance from his place in the ocean's center, to the woman that he deemed the center of himself.

pearl did not balk, or shrink away. even as tall as he was, even as big as he was, she held her ground, inches beneath the nose he looked down at her from. "where did you get the impression that i had a common name?"

"samuel is not common around here," she shoots back at him, and even as his voice echoes, hers carries, "as i am the only human being left."

"i am here," he hums, and it makes him uncomfortable, to hear what she deems as one of his faults weaponized against him. "is that not enough?"

it is crazy, the things that adoration and affinity cause you to excuse. she was angry with him, but did not curse the very existence of himself. her finger stabs into his chest but he does not take hold of it and break it.

pearl was a girl made of salt and ire. she would not whittle under his pressure. she would blossom anew. "you are not human. you are a god with the temperament of a human, but you are not like me."

his fingers close around her finger, lifting it easily from digging into the bare skin of his chest. "and you were not like them."

her skin is warm beneath his. he is tempted to never let go, to test his luck and see if she glimmers under the heavy weight of his gaze, or crumbles into sand.

"that is not a fair assessment," pearl fires off, and his defenses crumble in its wake, "letting your seas swallow my livelihood was not your call to make."

his tug is gentle, but it is enough to bring her closer to him, to lean down a head's worth of height and meet her eyes properly. "darling, your livelihood was not amongst their numbers. it has always been amongst those seas."

he does not see pearl for a fortnight. it is the longest fourteen days of his life; a hard accomplishment to make, when days blink by like seconds to him, and weeks like minutes.

but she prays. how lovely her voice can be when it's not full of her hurt and her wrath, when it calls to him in times where she cannot see his face except in the depths of her mind. perhaps it is easier that way, to speak her truths without the gaze of a god searing into her as she stumbles for proper words.

"i know the town still exists beneath the surface," pearl whispers to her steepled hands, her forehead to the wooden bedframe, "so i would ask to see it. if it was so important for it to be drowned, i would ask to see what has become of my childhood home and its neighboring predecessors."

he does not listen to every prayer that finds its way beneath the ocean's waves. but he listens to hers every time that they come.

she wakes up in the morning to the seas drawn back deeply, tall waves peaking at the distant horizon and lightly splashing on the doorsteps of dilapidated homes.

she has always seen so much, pearl. poseidon could claim that all of this was done in favor of her protection, but it started as the beginnings of a plan to forge a kingdom beneath the water. as the earthly populations grew, his sea creatures and his mer's did, too.

destroying the lives of people that hurt you was only the catalyst. homes made of wood had already been repurposed and reinforced with coral. algae and seaweed danced in the cracks of the windows and the open doors.

what was once dreary and small, her village, was now crafted anew. her grief was still evident in her expression, but there was a sense of exactly what samuel had grown to expect from her, beneath the surface of her emotions. awe and longing.

she was never at home on the shores. it was why she moved closer to the seaside once she'd reached the age to leave her family; it was why, prior to this, when the rumors flooded her ears and snuck into his in the process, she sought comfort in the gentle laps of waves at her doorstep.

as always, pearl is in tune with his presence, as he is in tune with hers.

"you have been quite busy," she says, a hand raising in a broad gesture to the underwater city.

samuel's head dips into a nod when he steps out from around the house he'd been observing from. it is best not to overwhelm the girl, whose life had already been upturned overnight. sympathy came easier now that he'd seen the blazes in her eyes. "atlantis," he says, his fingers closing around hers as he approaches. "come. let me show you the world."

and her hurt is still deeply embedded within her, but it is shaping and forging into something stronger. he sees it in the way her eyes glimmer with intrigue despite the harsh tilt of her chin, attempting to intimidate him. he is certain that pearl was the only human capable of bringing him to his knees.

pearl allows him to lead her along; small hand entwined with his larger one. it must be hard, he thinks; seeing the place you grew up in to be so empty and desolate, looking so out of place as it grows into something new. it does not help that the water is drawn back, making everything that is supposed to be beneath its depths exposed and wrong in appearance.

the recognition is immediate, when samuel leads her to the home that she spent her youth in. her fingers tighten around his, her other hand running along the rough exterior of coral that'd grown around the planks of wood.

she is silent. he is afraid, for a split second, and not for the first time, that she might cry, and that he has again made the wrong decision in an attempt to soothe the ache in her heart.

pearl's lips part, and he is not expecting the words that come out of them. "what happened to them?"

samuel's expression flattens.

he turns to the ruins and sees a future; she sees a past. he wishes that he could save her from the pain of those memories and let her start anew, and on her own time; but it is not his place to interfere again with what pearl needs or wants.

"they left," he answers finally on a slow exhale of a breath, "at the first signs of an impending tsunami." the light drains out of her eyes like the sun dipping behind the horizon, and he wishes that he had never answered. that he had sugarcoated the truth and spared her some of the heartache. "they did not seek out the girl on the coast. they abandoned her to the wrath they assumed that i felt."

she wipes at her watery eyes, the salt of her tears entwining with the sea salt on her cheeks. "did you? feel wrath?"

"i felt fury." samuel extends a hand to grasp her wrist between his fingers, pulling it away from her face, lifting it to kiss each of those tear stricken fingertips. "that they could isolate someone off of their own misconceptions. that they could choose to leave you."

pearl does not say anything else, but her eyes are locked onto his, and samuel knows that she is finally reading through the lines of what he'd done. drowned the home she'd grown up in, afraid and alone and to her own devices, and built something out of it, with the two things that she loved the most: water, and safety.

"how am i meant to live like this?" she asks, letting him hold her still, but turning on her heel to gesture toward the expanse of sea on either side of them. "i will drown, too. the sea will swallow me whole."

"nothing is capable of dousing the fire that stokes within you," he promises her, his mouth to her palm, "you are made of salt and the sea. it cannot take from you again."

like calls to like.

pearl has always felt at home by the seaside. the foundations of her childhood home were built nearest to the edge of grassland. her first steps were taken in sun-warmed sand. her first friends were the crabs tucked in the dunes beneath the soft surface.

the others of her village feared the coastline. the horizon stretched on endlessly, the waters constantly raged and inched up the shore more and more with every lap of waves. they blamed the god beneath the surface for its temperaments.

she blamed the superstitions of the townsfolk for the unrest beneath the sea. fear breeds anger; more contagious than any disease or ailment.

pearl had been talking to the god for longer than he'd been answering. perhaps it was her own fault, then, that the god reacted so violently to her pleas for understanding.

i am not like them, she'd said once, her head to the bedframe, her knees digging into the mottled wood of the cabin's floor, i do not understand myself to know why. they do not bother to ask.

she didn't know what god she was praying to, just that the one beneath the ocean's surface was closest to home, and pearl could only hope, then, that his answering calls were kind and just.

the next day, she'd awoke to the town flooded, the home abandoned, and her abode untouched.

water sloshed outside of her window. salt made the wooden walls sparkle beneath the sun ablaze. and she was all alone, except for the little creatures that slipped beneath her doorframe with the lapping waves to keep her company.

no, she did not understand, then, what had happened. did not even consider the fact that she'd called upon a god and his answer would come so swiftly. she did not drown with the town, but she drowned in her grief.

samuel, she'd called him, because even the most obscure of gods deserved to be named when they were being cursed, she figured. but samuel was not an obscure god, nor was he a kind one, typically. as much as she was an enigma to those who'd known her, he was an enigma amongst his kind, too.

solitude did not come easily after he'd shown her atlantis. as much as she tried to shut him out for even a day, a sunrise and sunfall at least, he did not leave her. by the end of the week, the mer were leaving gifts at her doorstep — invitations, really, to join him again in the parted seas.

it must have been part of his innate abilities; the way that pearl could dip her toes in the sands, and the water would give way to either side of her, curl around her like a wave about to crash, creating a tunnel into the depths of open water.

she should have feared drowning, after what the god had done. instead, she trusted him as strongly as all devoted do; with her heart, her soul, her fate.

the water stretched for miles, and yet each step, her tunnel of safety did not dissipate. on either side of her, mer pressed against the liquid barriers, the wall rippling as their hands pressed against it to capture her attention, to wave. his assessment was right, after all: the sea was always her home.

she did not know what she was being invited to, was not tuned in to the inner workings of the mer and the god who oversaw them. what pearl did know, though, was that even the sea creatures seemed to bow to her as she slipped into the domains of their home.

"you came," samuel says from the expansive arching entrance of his grandiose kingdom of coral, "i trust your journey was dry."

her smile comes so naturally that she could not believe this was a man that she'd once deemed the greatest monster of all. "much to the dismay of the mermaids watching me."

"they would never dare to flick a droplet onto our awaited guest."

our awaited guest. but there is no one else permitted into the space, then; no one that could be in the same space, what with the water warped into a protective entrance, and the mer without landlegs.

she opens her mouth to question him, but he shakes his head, offering a hand instead. "they are curious, so they will watch, until i tell them away," her hand curls into his, so much smaller in appearance to the god's, "it is not common to have a mortal in our ranks."

"is this your way of telling me that it will become common practice?"

pearl is capable of appreciating the beauty of his home while acknowledging that this is not it at its prime. its prime would be surrounded by blue, drowned in water like her village was. it would be bright and vibrant amongst the clear ocean. it would look like a home, and not a place meant for showing and telling.

but the violets and the pinks and the oranges are striking against the matching sunset backdrop, the seaweed curled around the towering structure's walls flapping with the salted gusts of wind.

she cannot peel her eyes away from each room. the space was open, separated by arches and half-walls of uneven coral, but each room was distinguishable from the others. there, his throne, sat tall on the middlemost floor, the tips of its back rising past the uppermost floor. here, a large open space with...

pearls. pearls everywhere. lining the half walls, making the floor of the kingdom glimmer in shades of cream and white.

"it is my way of offering my home to you," samuel finally answers, his hand still held loosely in hers, almost as if he were more nervous than she was. impossible. she'd never been one for being the center of attention, but here, it was like every pair of eyes on her was awestruck and not scrutinizing.

she turns to face him, something uncertain in her eyes. "i do not understand how that would work."

"the logistics are mine to worry about. if you want to take your place within my walls, it is yours. it has always been yours." sam takes her hand again, leading her past sconces of gemstone and mineral, past the glimmering aquamarine of his throne, and up.

his hand holding hers is what steadies her, or else she might have stumbled at the sudden lurch. they floated higher together, as if she'd been underwater and slowly loosing the breath in her lungs to stay on the ground, and now she was pulling back on it enough to float higher.

she does lose all sense of her breath at what, exactly, she'd been led to.

a bedspace, with a bed of pale blue pressed against the deep blue wall. the first solid wall in the space that she'd seen, and it glimmered like jewels, as deep as ultramarine.

"oh," she says softly, like all of the air in her lungs was whooshed away, and in its place was the water surrounding them.

somehow, she has brought the god to a stutter. "no. no, this is not..."

"oh," she echoes, and suddenly samuel is on his knees before her, her hand still clasped in his.

he squeezes once to get her attention. he is so tall that even knelt, he is merely eye level. "it is yours," he clarifies quickly, as if he could not get the words out fast enough, "if you choose to accept it. and even if you do not, it will remain untouched until the day you take up on the offer."

speech is a privilege. she cannot find an inkling of a thought in her arsenal of them. "oh." this time it elicits a wince from herself, wishing she had something more grateful, or appreciative, anything.

samuel's mouth quirks into an amused sort of smile, which only makes her feel worse about her reactions. "i choose to believe the lack of coherency is a good sign."

it was a good sign. how did she put into words that no one had thought of her, or what she wanted, ever before like this? that in this expanse of a kingdom with its open walls and the houses of her former village in its sandy courtyard, she has never felt so at home?

she does not say any of this. instead, she does something that surprises even herself, and she launches forward to grasp his face into her hands, and kisses him.

to kiss a god is to give oneself away entirely. an offering of its own sorts.

and when samuel picks her up and lays her on the plush of her mattress, she lets him take what she grants to him. again, and again, and again.

the ends of pearl's dress catch in the wind as she sprints down the sandy path she's come to know so dearly.

the seas part, and the water splashes into the sky. dolphins peek their snouts through the thinning barrier, the drippings of water making the sand soft beneath her feet. starfish and sea snails peek out from the safety of the wettened sand, come to watch their goddess return.

pearl is not of any magic, or any god's blood, but she has figured out the pieces of the coral walls and how to climb them. and climb she does, up and up until she's in her bedspace, where samuel is usually there, tidying the space. returning the water back to its natural state after she leaves is always a mess, he told her once, but i do not mind clearing the seahorses out of your blankets, so long as it gets you to come back to me.

but samuel is not there. she has never gotten to see the seahorse embedded in the warm seaweed blankets, but there are two there tucked into the strands, and now something feels wrong.

she listens intently, moments too late. she had time to turn around and leave if she'd not gotten so caught up in the joy curling around her heart.

"this is the pet, then," an unfamiliar male voice says from the surface level, and pearl wishes she could run the opposite way, and not have to face whoever else could brave the parted seas. no mer could, no sea creature could speak to her, and immediately, this is not someone that she feels that she should know.

samuel's voice is enraged. she knows the cadence of his anger, now. no matter the barriers were thinning today; he was fighting against his will to not send the ocean into a frenzy. "she is no pet."

"every human that slips through the cracks of our hearts is a pet, poseidon, and the quicker you learn that, the easier it is to detach."

his voice is deep, bored. from the corner of her singular wall, pearl peers around to find two sets of eyes already watching her.

samuel returns his attention to the man before him. slightly shorter in stature, dressed in dark, and expression ablaze. "you are only angry because persephone had to return to the ground. do not take it out on her."

"say her name again, brother, and i'll test how slowly i can make a mortal bleed dry." pearl's blood in mention runs ice cold. she wraps her arms around herself as if the sudden chill is one that can be rubbed away, and not one that is rooted within her. "come on out, beloved pearl. let me see the face of the woman who has stricken my brother."

it feels like a trap. perhaps it is. but there is no other way to go, with the drowning seas surrounding her, and the deeper levels of the kingdom hardly any security at all. so pearl descends from her room and makes her way between the men too big to be mortal, both wearing carefully placed masks over their feelings.

"pretty," the stranger says, reaching out to dust a thumb over pearl's eyelashes, "and you have certainly made your mark on her."

"that is unkind," pearl snaps back at him, jerking her face away from the light touch of his hand. "you must be mad, calling out for me like i am an animal, and making assessments of me as if i cannot understand you."

the man's mouth twitches. "i see." his eyes dance over to samuel's. "you have always liked dousing the fire out of women alike."

samuel's jaw ticking is the only indication that he heard his brother at all. "it is not a good time, pearl."

"it is!" the other claps his hands together, the look in his eyes brightening in a way that mimics a child with a toy. her, his chosen plaything. "tell me, how cruel does it feel, exactly, to know that your love is destined to wither and die?"

"do not listen to him." samuel grasps his brother's arm and tugs backwards. "he knows only death and destruction. he will see a weakness and latch if only to taste the bitterness of your hurt—"

"spreading lies about your bloodline does not lessen the blow of the truth."

samuel's voice drops. "leave her out of this, hades. out of your games."

hades.

it sends a shiver down pearl's spine, hearing that name uttered so freely. the townsfolk used to whisper of him after a passing of a loved one. used to wish their spirits any other fate than the one that came in the underworld.

he recognizes when pearl clicks the pieces together. and, as samuel said, he latches. "i could free you from those confines," he says slowly, his voice low and easing, "i could grant you the ability to be amongst your god as an equal. an offer i assume poseidon has not offered you."

hurt flashes over her face, and hades has her. hooked, lined, and sinking.

"i do not believe you."

it does not deter the god of the underworld.

"you have prayed for my brother to be banished, and now you plead his name that he never stops," hades' smile is cruel, teasing, unkind, "such a shift in tone does not go unnoticed to the gods that listen. i am not so cruel to deny a girl the fate she wants."

her heart hammers in her chest. he was not supposed to know what she wished. those pleas were for samuel, and him only. her want to be one of his people; to not only worship him, but to be alongside him, and to never have to perish and end up in the hands of his meaner brother.

"he does not know what you wish for, does he?"

samuel's eyes have never left pearl's expression. it is his turn for his eyes to flash with hurt. "what have you kept from me?"

it was not a willful or conscious choice. she prayed and pleaded, but there was no way to make a certain god listen.

"you would give that to me?" pearl asks, her voice small, hesitant.

hades reaches for her hand, and his deep green eyes blacken the moment their skin touches. "i would give you everything."

it is too late for poseidon to pull her free from his clutches. she does not remember at all, now, why she'd ever called him sam before.

the seas do not part again. her abode in the grasslands rots, sea-stained wood mottling and curling in on itself.

the town has drowned, and so has pearl.

he was angry, hades. an angry, bitter god is not one that should be taken up on an offering for a granted wish. but love is blinding and love is cruel. not that pearl knew, anymore, what that love had felt like.

she lives in the sea. the merfolk welcomed her; cleared her a space in the depths of the sea to rest in, a beautiful pink sea anemone just for her. the kingdom she'd began to call home was long gone; the city of atlantis long forgotten and lost.

the water is cruel and rough. when she sits atop one of the protruding rocks in the deep of the ocean, she is splashed with violent waves, salt curling her drying hair, hitting with enough force against the scaly tail in place of her legs that it almost feels like the water is trying to pull her back under. trying to pull her to something.

to feel at home, finally, is a love like no other she has felt. but even then, it does not feel like enough. pearl's heart has swelled tenfold, but there is still a chunk that feels missing.

and so she sits on that rock every night and sings, sings to beckon what she lost back to her, and the only thing it ever brings is lost, lovelorn sailors. they are never what she yearns for. mockeries of the empty hollow in her heart. drowning them is easy. the drowning sea has always been hungry.

every night, she sings, and poseidon listens from the other side of the ocean deep, sat in the soft blues of her bed. there are no gods for him to pray to for her return, for the curse of lost love placed upon his pearl by his petty, furious brother to be taken back.

but there is all of the time in the world with gods. and he had plenty at his disposal, to keep the sea creatures out of her bedspread, in case she finds her way back to him.

notes. this one has been in my drafts for ... i'm not even gonna say how long. it's had many ups & more downs. hope u all enjoy it regardless !!! literally a labor of love.

tags. @frosttbitessam @sthefferrete @cevansbaby-dove @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @bluestrd @ultravi0lence14 @mccartneyqp @depressionbarbie2023 @im-bili @chevroletdean @fallbhind @angelblqde @honeyryewhiskey @deansbite @lyarr24 @deanswidow @figthoughts @bluemerakis @fallbhind @beausling @t3l3vangelism @tristimith @whyyouegg @untltledforyourpleasure @ravenchoo @odetoficton @globetrotter28 @theosaurous @starzify @samslovely @aileenunfiltered @rubyvhs @soldiersgirl @fairychris @legalmente-loca @voidsuites @stereotypicalbarbie @arlensw1fe

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Remember Me Dancing

Summary: When Y/N is struck by a wave of sadness, and missing her mom all over again, Jensen and Jared step up to turn her memories happy again.

Warnings: Nothing really. All fluff. Talk of grief and loss.

Pairings: No romantic pairing. Jensen Ackles x teen!reader, Jared Padalecki x teen!reader

Word Count: 1,204

A/N: I got a request that I'll leave as anonymous (just in case) that said this:

Hey I have a huge request. I was wondering if you could do a Jensen x teen!reader or a J2 x Teen!reader where the reader thinks of her mom that passed away and she hears a song play that her mom loved and she starts crying and can’t stop so she gets help by the guys and they calm her down. She then eventually tells them what’s wrong and they take care of her for the rest of the night. Today a song played and it made me think of my mom and I honestly needed comfort and wished it was them two. Thank you!❤️

This took me much longer than it should have and I'm sorry you had to wait a little while, hon. But I hope this story gives you a bit of peace and a smile. Sending you lots of love and healing.

A/N 2: As always, of course, this is a Jensen (and Jared) from a different part of the multiverse. This is a complete and utter work of fiction.

Y/N was doing better. Much better. She reminded herself of that fact as she sat in her trailer with tears pouring down her cheeks.

A light rap on her door had her swiping away the tears quickly. But not quick enough as Jensen opened the door and stuck his head inside.

“Hey sweetheart they're…” His voice softened. “waiting for us.”

He came all the way in, closing the door softly and moving to sit beside her on the small couch. “Baby, what's wrong?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing.” She said unconvincingly.

Jensen used his knuckle to brush away the latest tear to fall. “This isn't nothing.” He said gently.

Y/N shrugged and swiped her tears away with both hands this time. “Ugh, it's so stupid. I'm really fine.”

Jensen stayed quiet, just waiting. Finally, Y/N sighed. 

“I was just listening to music, waiting for the call to hair and makeup.” She said, raising her phone in her hands to show Spotify open on the screen. “And then this song came on that…well mom loved it, and she used to dance around the apartment to it.” 

A sad, fond smile took over her face. “I used to tease her so much, called her a dork. But she'd always pull me into her dorky dancing and I loved it.” 

She took a shuddery breath and closed her eyes. A tear fell from beneath her lashes. “What I wouldn't give to have one more dance party with her.”

Jensen pulled her to his chest and rubbed circles into her back while she cried. After a few minutes she sat up, wiping the damp patch her tears had left on Jensen's t-shirt. 

“Sorry.” She said in a wavering voice. Jensen just waved away her apology as she reached past him for a tissue and blew her nose.

“You know,” she continued as she sniffled, “I really am doing much better these days. It's just sometimes something like this will hit me and it's like…” She lifted her hand as though trying to reach for the words.

Jensen supplied them for her. “Like the grief hits you brand new, and it's as though no time has passed at all.” 

Y/N nodded. “Yeah.” She whispered. 

Jensen brushed her hair behind her ear. “Grief, loss, they're like that. I get it, kiddo. And everyone else will too. If you want to take off, I can drive you home.”

But Y/N shook her head. “No, I think I'd like to go do my job, you know, escape being me. Just for a little while.”

Jensen nodded. “Then after work, I have an idea.”

Y/N smiled. “What's the idea?”

“You'll see when we're finished work.”

Y/N wanted more information, but there was suddenly another knock and a P.A. called to her through the door. 

“Y/N, sweetie, they're ready for you in hair and makeup.”

In the end it was the anticipation that really distracted her from the sadness that sat in her chest. Because, as they went through the day, no matter how much she prodded, she couldn't get Jensen to spill the details about his plans.

Finally, after more than twelve hours, they were finished and Jensen drove her home. He followed her up to her apartment and as soon as they walked inside Y/N jumped almost a foot, as Jared spun around to face them.

“Hey darlin’! Surprise!” He said loudly, arms thrown wide. “Welcome to the dance party.” He pressed a button on his phone and music started playing out of Bluetooth speakers she definitely didn't own.

She laughed in complete surprise. Jared hadn't been on the call sheet for the day, so obviously Jensen had told him to come and set all of this up. The whole apartment had been turned into a kind of seventies disco, complete with strobe lights and a mirrorball. 

Y/N turned to Jensen, beaming, with tears brimming once again.

He pulled her into a hug. “I thought if we dance-partied hard enough, we could make some new memories to help cushion the old ones, turn them back into happy ones again. So you can remember her dancing, and smile”

Y/N just nodded, overwhelmed by her gratitude for these two wonderful men..

“Hey!” Jared complained. ”I'm the one who set this all up! Where's my hug?” Then without waiting for an answer, he wrapped his long arms around them both, catching her in the middle of them and squishing her flat between his chest and Jensen's.

Jensen groaned. “Dude. Yes, thank you! Now let the girl breathe!”

Jared pulled away with a huge grin and pounded Jensen on the back with the kind of vigor only the other big Texan could handle. Then he leaned down and kissed the top of Y/N's head incredibly gently. 

“We love you, baby.”

Y/N nodded. “I know. I love you too. And thank you.” She smiled and dashed away the last of her tears. “Let the party begin!”

Before long, more of the cast and crew knocked on her door, asking if this was where the dance party was happening. Ruthie, Rob, Mark, Felicia, and so many more friends all crammed into her relatively small apartment.

They danced and ate, and talked, and then ate some more. Everything ran smoothly, with food simply showing up at the door whenever people got hungry. One corner of the apartment was dedicated to board games and card games and friendly competition ruled the day - no one was immune.

But more than anything, they danced. Some were great dancers, some terrible, but talent didn’t matter, only fun. Y/N couldn't imagine how much energy Jared had put into planning the whole evening. It was incredible.

Eventually, hours later, Y/N sat down on her couch, and shut her eyes, just for a moment. But soon the lullaby of laughter and friendly conversation sang her into a light doze which quickly turned into a deep sleep. She only woke up a long time later, as the last guest left and the music was turned down but not off. The party lights were gone and the only light now was that of a soft lamp in the corner. She woke as Jensen was bending over her to scoop her into his arms and carry her to her bedroom.

“I fell asleep.” Y/N said, stating the obvious and burrowing her cheek into Jensen's shoulder. “Why'd you let me?” 

She let out a huge, sleepy yawn and Jensen chuckled. 

“That's why.” He said simply.

Y/N wanted to argue, but he laid her down in her bed and tucked the comforter around her and her words faded away. He kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand. 

“Sleep well, sweetheart. Jared and I will be here tomorrow morning to take you for breakfast.”

Y/N nodded and mumbled something and Jensen laughed again. “I'll text you about it, cause you're sleeping and won’t remember.”

Y/N wanted to disagree with him, but she was already asleep, her dreams mixing together old dancing and new into a happy tangle of good memories.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @lastcallatrockysbar @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7

@nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire @libby99hb @k-slla

@leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @b3autyfuld1sast3r

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

The Price of Vengeance

Request: Can you do Sam Winchester x reader with the prompt “Revenge is not meant to ease pain. It is meant to balance the scale.” That is if you’re still taking requests. If not, sorry to bother you 🤍. Requested by anon.

Warnings: physical violence, injury, blood, angst, death

Word Count: 2.6 K.

“Hello Boys. If you missed me, you could’ve just called. You know, over a cup of tea or coffee- nothing too fancy” you said with a smirk as you strolled into the museum. Dean and Sam had, of course, gone ahead of you, despite agreeing to wait. They could never resist jumping into trouble first.

“A little help here?” Dean shouted, frustration evident in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow in amusement “You need to relax a bit, darling. All this stress and anger are not good for your health” you calmly said, teasing, as you started an incantation.

“And you think being killed by a ghost is?” Dean shot back, glaring at you as he struggled.

You merely shrugged, ignoring his theatrics, began reciting the banishment incantation. Dean was always so dramatic, and teasing him had become one of your favorite pastimes.

You rose from your spot and moved toward Sam, who had just been thrown into the room, entirely unaware of your presence.

“No hello? No ‘Nice to see you again. I missed you, love?’” you said, arms crossed, a mocking grin spreading across your face you watched him struggle against the monster.

Sam turned to face you, grimacing from the strain of fighting “Y/n? When did you get here? And if you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit occupied at the moment” he shot back, offering a sarcastic smile between gritted teeth.

You sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes “Fine. I guess I’ll just have to do everything myself then” you leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Sam’s lips, catching him off guard. “Look out!” you warned him as you broke the kiss.

“Seriously? Now you find time to do this? Hurry up!” Dean shouted from across the room, his irritation growing.

“Such a whiny baby. Fine, there” with a snap of your fingers, the ghosts vanished.

“All this time, and you could’ve just done that?” Dean’s glare was sharp, but you simply shrugged.

“I don’t get paid for this. Besides, you don’t appreciate my talents. So why should I waste them on you?” you winked, clearly enjoying the annoyance written across his face.

Sam, catching his breath, finally spoke from behind you “Hey, I missed you” his voice was softer, and as you turned, you wasted no time jumping into his arms, wrapping your legs around him and kissing him passionately.

“Ugh, could you two please get a room?” Dean groaned in disgust. “What even are you two? Are you official? Just hooking up?”

You broke the kiss just to smirk at Dean “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Dean scowled. “Yeah. That’s why I’m asking.”

Sam interjected this time, glancing at you with a small smiled “We don’t have a label on our relationship…yet.”

—

“So apparently, this guy was very well known back in the day. He prosecuted over a hundred presumed witches” Sam explained as he scrolled further, reading through some website.

“Wait, what did you say his name was again?” you asked, stepping closer, your brow furrowing.

“Uhm, let me check… some Alfred Bancrofft. Apparently the whole family was involved in witch hunting”.

The moment he said the name, your chest tightened, and a cold wave of pain washed over you. That name- that man, who had hunted and killed you when you were human. You were innocent back then, you begged him to at least spare your family, but that man just hated women. Women that did not bend to his will. You swore vengeance just before he burnt you at the stake. When you were resurrected as a witch, it took you some time before you could master your magic. But by the time you were ready to exact your revenge, the man and his sons had already died and you heard nothing of his bloodline, until now.

“Alfred Bancrofft” you repeated slowly “and does it say if he has any surviving descendants?”

“There is one Bancrofft in the area. It appears he was the one who donated that talisman to the museum.”

“Okay, you two grab the talisman. I’ll talk to the family” you suggested, hoping they’d agree with your decision.

“Wait, hold on, hold on. Since when do you volunteer to talk to family members? You HATE talking to people. So who are you? And what have you done to our Y/n?” Dean teased, folding his arms.

“Our Y/n? Aw, so I have started to grow on you, haven’t I?” you smirked “Don’t worry, it’s me, your one and only Y/n. Do you think that if anyone dared to impersonate me, they’d live long enough to talk about it?”

Dean gave you a half-hearted smile “Yeah, you got me there.”

“We still have a problem. Yesterday, when we went to retrieve the talisman, it wasn’t where it was that day. Either someone hid it or the ghost of Bancrofft is playing games. Y/n, did you sense anyone when you came by?”

“I don’t think so. I was focused on finding you two idiots so I didn’t really have time for that”

“I’ll go see if the talisman is back to its original place. Maybe whoever took it just needed it for the night? Sam you go with Y/n and figure out if they’re involved in any way.”

“But I can do this on my own” you objected, crossing your arms.

“I doubt that. Your people skills are as rusty as Cass’s. Besides, if someone is going to investigate, the other one has to entertain the hosts.”

“And who exactly is going to be ‘entertaining the hosts’?”

“I don’t know. It’s between the two of you. Figure it out, lovebirds” Dean shrugged nonchalantly before going out to get some food.

—

The moment you stepped inside the Bancrofft house, rage simmered beneath the surface. Having Sam with you was an inconvenience, but you’ve been waiting for hundreds of years, one more day wasn’t going to make a difference.

As Sam distracted the Bancroffts with polite conversation, you excused yourself to the bathroom. Once alone, you searched the house for anything unusual. You found some occult items, but nothing definitive.”

“”All good, honey?” Sam asked as you returned, his gaze curious but calm.

“Yes. All clear” you offered a sweet, fake smile to both Sam and the Bancroffts “Just one last question. So are you really related to the Alfred Bancrofft? I heard he killed a lot of witches- if you believe in that kind of stuff.”

The man chuckled dismissively “Oh, yes. I’m a direct descendant. Witches, however, I’m not sure about that. We have a couple of items still decorating the house, but witches, come on! These are probably just rumors. I’m more of a ‘gotta see it for yourself to believe it’ kinda guy” the man babbled and you just wanted to stick a fork in his throat.

“I’m telling you, they’re witch hunters” you insisted as the two of you walked back to the motel.

“Have you found proof?” Sam asked, wanting to believe you.

You stopped and turned to face him “No, but-.”

“Then there’s no but. If they’re innocent, then they’re innocent.” Sam interrupted, trying to be reasonable “Hey, listen, I know this might be a little personal to you. You know witch business and all, but these people had nothing to do with it.”

“A little personal?” A flash of anger crossed your face, but you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay composed. He had no clue who this person was to you, what he did to you and your loved ones. You weren’t going to share with him these details, after all, what good are they? He’ll just give you a pitiful look and find a way to convince you to let it go. “You know what? You’re right. This is a bit personal, so you should just go ahead and solve this case with your brother” you needed some fresh air, some time away from Sam.

“Wait- Y/n” he called after you, but you needed to be left on your own. “that’s not what I meant” he whispered.

—-

After receiving a text message from Dean saying he couldn’t find the talisman, you performed a locator spell and found it hidden in one of the museum’s rooms.

“You can come out now, Bancrofft” you growled into the empty room. Seconds later, the ghost of your greatest enemy appeared in front of you. He tried to attack you but you were able to hold him in place with ease.

“Well, well, well. Look at who we have here. Remember me? Probably not. After all, you did kill so many women. I’m Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n, one of the many innocent women you burned alive. I begged you that day, you knew we weren’t witches. Guess what? Turns out enough hatred and anger are sufficient to be reborn as a witch. And now, I’m gonna do to you exactly what you did to me. I’m going to make you watch as I kill your descendant. I remember how sacred blood was to you. I’ll see you soon.” You grinned as his eyes widened, then banished him once again.

—

After Sam revealed to Dean what had happened, Dean grew suspicious

“Are you sure, man? Even when she’s cooling off, she never takes that long.”

“It’s either that or someone or something has her” Sam added.

“And you’re sure these people aren’t witch hunters?”

“Yes. I mean Y/n checked and I could see that she wanted them to be, but even she couldn’t find any proof. They’re just normal people, Dean.”

“Or… has it occurred to you that maybe this was personal to her?”

“Yes, which is why she needed to be off the case.”

“And to think that you actually went to Stanford” Dean shook his head, slightly disappointed in his brother “How long have you known Y/n for, hmm? If something or someone even slightly bothered her, did she ever let it go?”

Sam shook his head slowly. “No? Because she never has. So whatever she’s brewing, it’s not good. Go check the Bancroff house, I’ll take the museum again. And Sam? This time don’t come back without her if you do find her.”

—-

When Sam arrived, the front door was open and his nightmare was realized. You were standing over a man, a knife in your hand, while blood dripped everywhere. Just as you were about to deliver the killing blow, Sam’s shouting stopped you “NO. Wait, Y/n, don’t do this. Come on, you’re better than this.” His voice shook with fear as he tried to stop you.

You glanced over your shoulder, annoyed and tired. “What are you doing here?”

“I came for you. Come on, put the knife down and we can leave right now” he pleaded, desperation seeping into his words. But when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

You turned to fully face him, exasperated “Get out of here, Sam. This is going to get ugly and you don’t want to see me in action, trust me” you warned.

“You can’t kill them. They’re innocent” Sam argued, stepping closer.

“Innocent? As long as that old bastard’s blood runs in his veins, he’s not innocent” you spat, your frustration bubbling over. You raised your weapon again, intent on finishing the job, but Sam stopped you.

“Alright, alright. Tell me about him? What exactly did he do?” Sam asked, hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

Your gaze darkened as the memories flooded back “Oh, you know what insecure men did back in the day. Killed every woman who was smarter than them by branding her a witch and burning her at the stake”.

Sam’s expression softened, sympathy in his eyes “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I truly am. I can’t even begin to imagine what you must have been through, but please. You’re better than this”.

“There is no changing my mind, Sam” you took a step toward him and cupped his cheek with your blood-smeared hand. Then, the wife tried to escape, but you quickly held her in place by your magic.

Sam’s breath hitched as he watched “I know you’re hurt. But revenge won’t stop the pain.”

Your lips curled into a grim smile “Revenge is not meant to ease pain. It is meant to balance the scale.”

“Then you know I can’t let you do that.” Sam said quietly., his face hardened with resolve.

“Try and stop me.” You challenged.

“Y/n, please don’t do this!” Sam pleaded. But you were beyond reasoning now. Your mind was set in stone. As you moved to stab your victim, Sam lunged at you, his arms locking around yours. The force of his tackle sent you both crashing to the floor, the knife flying from your grasp, clattering across the floor.

You both struggled to recover, but Sam quicker in the moment, pinned you down. His hands gripped your wrists, his breathing ragged “Stop this! Please!”.

The wife managed to get free and tried to help her husband up, but he told her to go get help.

You were able to free one of your arms, driving your elbow into Sam’s face. He recoiled, twisting in pain. Just as the woman was about to make it through the front door, you extended your hand and suffocated her with your magic, rendering her unconscious.

“No!” Sam shouted. You were already on your feet again, this time, angrier.

“I don’t need a knife to kill you” you turned to face your victim, slowly approaching.

In the chaos, Sam’s hands blindly fumbled for something- anything to stop you- finding the knife again.

Desperation overtook him as he swung the knife toward you, not realizing the angle, not considering the consequences. He meant to disarm you, but as you struggled, the blade plunged into your side.

A searing pain ripped through you, making you gasp for air. Your body froze, your magic faltering. Sam’s eyes widened in horror, his hands trembling as he pulled the knife back, blood already soaking the blade. He had realized what he’d done.

“Y/n? No, no, no, no” he whispered, his voice cracking, staring at the blood on the blade- and on you. “Stay with me. It’s going to be alright” he slowly lowered you to the ground, cradling you in his lap. “You’re gonna be alright” he repeated, his voice fragile, almost as if he was trying to convince himself. He pressed his hands against the wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, but the blood kept flowing between his fingers.

“Hey” you whispered as you looked up at him, observing the movement of his eyes. You hadn’t truly noticed how beautiful his eyes were until now. In this moment, with the world fading around you, you really saw him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. You have to believe me. I- I just wanted to-“ his words fell apart as he sobbed, his grip tightening on you.

“It’s alright… I haven’t felt such peace before. Thank you… for freeing me” you struggled to speak, each word growing more difficult as blood started forming in your throat.

“No, no, no. Please!” Sam pleaded, cupping your face with his hands, his voice broken “stay with me.”

Your breaths grew shallow “I was filled with so much anger…so much hate… that I didn’t realize I stopped living. It’s alright, Sammy. I forgive you” you tried to cup his cheek one last time, but your hand faltered, falling limply to your side as your final breath escaped you. Sam held you close, lowering his forehead to yours as a heart- wrenching scream tore from him, his grief consuming him whole.

Tags: @thisismysecrethappyplace @berruneko09 @simonsbluee @wonderswritings

[lostgirl677]

Home alone

One-shot

Winchester Brothers x Little sister! Reader

Masterlist

Request : Heyy, how are you doing? I was wondering if I could request for supernatural:3Maybe something where reader is Sam and Dean's little sister (13/14) and it's set on the first episode maybe.So, basically Sam leaves her home alone because he's going hunting with Dean, she finds out just in the morning because he hasn't left a note or anything and she starts to panic, but then she calls them and they calm her down?It's ok if you can't or don't take requests, I Hope you have a wonderful day! Remember to take care of yourself:3

A/N: Sorry it took a long time. I really do hope you'll like it. Maybe it won't be exactly how you expected it.

My eyes slowly opened as the birds sang softly near my window. I began to wipe the fatigue from my eyes as I sat up in bed. I had the weirdest dream last night. One where Dean entered the flat by a window and took Sam with him to find dad. It surely meant that I missed my dad and my brother after four years without seeing them. And Sam barely mentioning them nowadays didn’t help. As the drowsiness of sleep faded, I became aware of my surroundings and noticed that the apartment was eerily quiet this morning. This silence could only indicate two things: either it was very early, or I slept in. By the window, I could see that the sun was already up. I then decided to check my alarm to finally know what time it was. It was 8 AM. At least, I didn’t oversleep. Stretching my legs, I got up and made my way to the kitchen. Passing by the living room, I noticed that everything has been left untouched since yesterday. The coffee table was still covered in books and notebooks as well as various uncorked markers left haphazardly here and there. It was curious, since Sam was pretty much the tidy type, unlike Dean and I. I definitely won’t miss the opportunity to remind him that for once I was not the one leaving a mess behind.

But weirder, when I arrived in the kitchen I saw various cups and plates left on the table and the sink. Sam and Jess would never leave such a mess behind them. But they were probably still drunk from last night. “Sam? Jess?” I finally called. The silence was deafening. I thought for a second that maybe one of them was in the bathroom. So I came to the bathroom door and knocked softly. “Sam? Jess? Are you in there?” But again, complete silence was the only answer I got. There wasn’t even a water noise or the sound of someone brushing their teeth. There was only one room left, Sam and Jess’s. Maybe they were the ones oversleeping? I finally came to their room’s door. As I approached, I immediately noticed the absence of snoring noise. I then knocked on the door. I was once again met with utter silence. Frustration was slowly building in me. So I slowly opened the door and said “I’m coming inside! If I catch you doing something unsuitable for my innocent eyes, I won't be the most embarrassed!”. But, once the door was opened, I only saw a neatly made bed and an empty room.

I let out a rather loud sigh as I closed the door behind me. Maybe they went to the grocery store, or the library? I refuse to think about anything worse. But they would never leave me without at least a little note somewhere. So,  I made my way back to the kitchen to check the fridge to see if they left me a note. But there wasn’t anything in the fridge door or anywhere else. My heartbeat increased with each passing second. Panic was overtaking me and the worst case scenarios ran in my mind. What if something happened to them? What if our old ‘lifestyle’ finally caught up to us? Anxiety was slowly overwhelming me. But I tried to reassure myself and immediately thought about the table next to the door. I practically ran like a maniac toward it, in hope of finding something. But my hopes were crushed when I didn’t find a single note on the little notepad.

My last option was the phone. Thankfully, the little red light was flickering, indicating that someone had left a message. I pushed the button and silently prayed. But when I played the voicemail, I noticed that there wasn’t any message coming from Sam or Jess. I tried to call Jess and Sam right away. But I managed to get voicemail for both of them. “Sam, please! At least tell me you’re okay. I’m anxious. Please call me back soon!” I was really having trouble breathing. I let myself slide down the wall behind me and ended up sitting on the cold wooden floor. The flood of scary thoughts came back to torment me.

I always knew what lurked in the dark. Dad had made sure of it since I was little. Hell, he practically handed me a dagger when I told him I was afraid of monsters under my bed. Thankfully, Dean and Sam always made me feel safe. Even if I was only their half-sister, Dean and Sam were always there with me and never ostracized me for not having the same mother. If anything happened to them, I didn’t know what I would do. When Sam left for Stanford, he took me with him, leaving Dean and dad behind. They were always on my mind and I missed them everyday, especially Dean. He raised me more than dad ever did. I often had nightmares where something bad happened to them. What if it already happened and Sam was the next to die? What if…? My fear overwhelmed me and clouded my mind with the most horrific visions of my family’s corpses.

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the phone ringing. Without even thinking, I jumped and threw myself on the phone. “Y/N?” His voice made my heart jump. “Sam?! Where are you? Are you okay? Where’s Jess?” I blurted out in haste, almost out of breath. “Easy, Y/N. Everything’s okay. Jess is at the library. She probably forgot to tell you, sorry. She’ll come back soon. I’m…” There was another male voice interrupting him. I recognized it right away. “Dean?! Oh my god, Dean! I’m so glad to hear your voice. I missed you so much.” I practically screamed on the phone. I heard a bit of bickering when Dean took the phone.”Happy to hear your voice too, sis. I miss you too.” I could hear the smile in his voice. I never felt more relieved in my life. But suddenly, I realized that if these two were together, it meant that something bad happened. “What happened?”, I asked anxiously. There was a bit of silence before Dean replied “Well, dad didn’t come back from one of his hunts. So I came to your apartment last night to get Sam’s ass in the car and try to find dad.” So, I heard them last night. I thought that it was a dream.

“But, why didn’t you take me with you?” I asked and I knew that hurt was evident in my voice when I heard him sigh. “Listen Y/N, we didn’t want you involved in this. You finally have a normal life and we couldn't take it away from you just like that. It’s just another hunt involving what we think is a kind of ghost. It’s basically milk run for us. Soon, I’ll drive Sam back and you’ll keep living your life as if nothing happened.” “A normal life?! Are you kidding? I still sleep with a dagger under my pillow, just in case.” I heard Dean taking a deep breath. He was probably looking for a witty comeback , as always. But before he could answer, I heard Sam. “Y/N, we’re really sorry. But we didn’t know whether it was dangerous or not. We can’t risk losing our baby sis. Dean and I are going to be careful and I promise we’ll be back soon.” “We? Dean will join us?” I asked, hopeful. There was a bit of silence before I heard Dean reply “Well, we’ll see kiddo. It’s up to Sammy.” I heard Sam protesting at the nickname. “I just want to have my brothers with me.” I said, my voice cracking a bit. “I know, sweetheart.”, said Dean in a breath. “It’s a matter of days, I promise. We’ll find that bitch’s corpse, salt and burn it. We’ll be with you in no time.” He said in a reassuring tone. I smiled a little, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “What about dad?” I finally asked. “He can’t be that far. Don’t worry.”, said Sam. “Also, I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note. I didn't have the time.”, he added. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Just promise me you’ll both be careful and come back safe.” “We promise.”, they said in unison. “And please, update me whenever you can. I love you, goofs.” I heard them laugh. “Okay. We love you too, sis. See you soon.”, said Dean. And they hung up the phone.

I fell back on the floor, half relieved and half anxious. Trouble was definitely on the way, but at least, they were okay. I just had to wait for their next call. A sudden noise made me jump. To my relief, it was Jess. “Hey, Y/N! Sorry I didn’t tell you I was going to the library. But I figured that you would forgive me if I came back with your favorite pie.”, she said while shaking a bag. I got up and hugged her. She hugged me back while laughing a little “Wow. I know you love pie but not at this point.” She didn't know how  happy I was to see her. 

 Timeskip

Fire, fire everywhere. Jess was on the ceiling, burning and bleeding. I couldn’t do anything to help her. Dean had to grab both Sam and I before fire could attain us. Her face, her cries for help, it was replaying in my mind endlessly. I would never be able to forget it. 

Dean sat me on the curb, in the midst of the chaos around us. “Y/N, are you okay?”, he asked with a concerned voice. I vaguely nodded my head, still in shock. I couldn't even cry. I threw a glance at Sam. He was devastated. He was crying hard while clinging to me as if he was afraid I would disappear. They finally both took me in their arms. I missed that. But it was sad to have to wait for such a tragedy to finally have my brothers with me. After a moment, Dean sighed and  said “ I guess you’ll have to come with us, now.” And in no time, I was on the backseat of the Impala while Dean was driving to our next destination. 

@hobby27 @deans-spinster-witch

[deans-queen]

Sleep Tight Boys

One Shot

Pairing: Reader (Y/N) x Sam & Dean Winchester

Summary: You find Sam and Dean asleep in the Impala

A/N: This is a request made by @deanwinchestersgirl8734 and she sent me this picture to use as inspiration.

Warnings: none

Reader’s POV

It had been a long day, and I mean long. The hunt we just wrapped up had taken a lot out of all of us—fighting off a group of vengeful spirits was never easy. Dean and Sam had barely spoken through dinner at the small diner we found off the highway, both of them too exhausted to do more than nod when I asked if they wanted more coffee.

After we ate, I stepped out of the diner to make a quick call to Bobby, just to let him know we were all still in one piece. When I got off the phone and turned toward the parking lot, I spotted the Impala, sitting under the soft glow of a streetlamp.

There they were.

I walked toward it, my boots scuffing lightly on the gravel. A small smile crept across my face when I saw them through the window—both of them passed out in the backseat. Sam, stretched out awkwardly with his long legs cramped, arms crossed over his chest, and Dean… my Dean. He was lying at the other end, his jacket thrown carelessly to the side, one hand resting on his stomach. He looked so peaceful.

It’s not often I get to see Dean like that—completely relaxed. Usually, his brow is furrowed, always thinking about the next problem, the next hunt, the next danger lurking around the corner. But right now? He was just Dean. My Dean.

I stood there for a moment, leaning against the side of the car, just watching them. It wasn’t often we got a break like this. No monsters, no demons, no immediate life-threatening danger. Just a quiet night, parked outside a rundown diner in the middle of nowhere.

I shook my head, amused at the sight. “Look at you two,” I whispered under my breath. “All that talk about being tough hunters, and you can’t even stay awake long enough to get back to the motel.”

I fished my phone out of my pocket and couldn’t resist taking a picture. Not that I’d ever show them. This was just for me—something to look at during the times when things got dark, to remind me that even they had their moments of peace.

I slipped the phone back into my jacket pocket and opened the door as quietly as I could. Neither of them stirred. Dean was still sound asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. I couldn't help myself, gently brushing a strand of hair off his forehead. He mumbled something under his breath, but didn’t wake up. His lips twitched slightly, and I smiled. I wonder what he was dreaming about—something good, I hoped.

Sam was dead to the world too, his head slightly tilted back, mouth open just a little. I stifled a laugh. He always looked so serious, but right now, he looked like a big kid, completely knocked out after a long day of work.

I slid into the front seat of the Impala, leaning back against the cool leather and gazing out at the quiet parking lot. For once, everything was still. The diner’s neon sign buzzed softly in the background, but the world outside felt so far away.

As I sat there, I felt a warm sense of contentment settle over me. The chaos of the hunt, the endless danger, it could wait. Right now, I had the two most important people in my life safe, asleep in the backseat of this old, beautiful car. And that was enough.

I let out a quiet sigh, smiling to myself. “Sleep tight, boys,” I whispered. “I’ve got your back.”

And for now, that was all that mattered.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this short one shot!Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

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[mishaesque]

Scenic Supernatural 2.02 Everybody Loves a Clown

[pinkiebieberpie]

sam's instagram account

supernatural masterlist

[adriellej]

Masterlist

Supernatural:

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles

Sam Winchester/Jared Padalecki

Castiel (Novak)/Misha Collins

Extra characters of SPN

SPN no parings

Personalized fics

Flash:

Harrison "Harry" Wells/E!2

[trektraveler]

My Hero

Summary: Doctor Sam WInchester had fallen hard for the woman living just down the hall. She was easily the most adorable and the most accident-prone creature he had ever met! Yet for all the times he came to her rescue, he was too shy to make a move. Maybe he could work up his courage, if he got just one more chance...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Sam x Reader, Doctor!Sam Winchester x You

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Garth, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, fluff

One Shot

Word Count: 3700

Author’s Notes: I swear, every time I get sick all I want is a Winchester to come and take care of me. Is that really so much to ask?? I think not! This is my very first Sam x Reader fic! I have a few more ideas rattling around for the youngest Winchester brother, but this is decent practice. For now. Enjoy!

     Bang.  Bang.  Bang.

     “Coming, coming!”  Sam pulled t-shirt over his head as he trotted to the front door.  He’d been getting ready for bed when the insistent knocking started.

     The door swung open to a very nervous young man in a Wong’s delivery uniform.  Sam recognized him from the few times he ordered from them. 

     “Hey, its Garth, right?”

     “Yeah,” he shifted on his feet, his eyes round with worry, “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

     Sam’s instantly shifted into his professional mode.  He was currently an attending at Lawrence General Hospital, having just moved back a year ago from L.A.  It had been an adjustment, but a welcome one.  Big city life didn’t suit Sam at all. 

     “I am.  What’s going on?’

     “I was dropping off an order down the hall to the lady in 302 and I heard this thud behind the door and now I can’t get her to answer.  I think something’s wrong.”

     Sam was already grabbing his medical bag, “Show me.”

     302.  He knew the woman who lived there.  More or less.  They kept running into each other.  He first discovered her fighting with the soap dispenser in the laundry room.  Then again when she locked herself out of the building during a thunderstorm.  And then last week when the elevator got stuck between floors.  He always seemed to be wandering by when she needed a rescue.  She was funny, smart, accident prone, and completely adorable. 

     Sam had been working up the courage to ask her out, but something always seemed to crop up.  An extra shift at the hospital or a birthday party for a colleague.  He knew it was an excuse.  For all of his professional success, Sam was, and always had been, extremely shy.

     “Y/N?”  He knocked loudly on the closed door, then tried the handle and found it locked. 

     “Alright, stand back,” he said to Garth.  In one powerful move, Sam kicked the door in, the heel of his foot landing in just the right spot to splinter the doorjamb. 

     “Damn,” Garth blew out an impressed breath, “You aren’t even wearing shoes.”

     You were laying in the foyer.  Curled on your side with your hair spread out like a halo.  A wallet sat a few inches away from outstretched fingers. 

     Sam was at your side in an instant, gingerly turning you over and searching for a pulse, “Y/N?  Can you hear me?”

     Garth hovered nearby, nerves in his voice, “Is she okay?”

     Sam ran a hand over your forehead, “She’s burning up.  Go see if you can find a washcloth and a glass of water.”

     His worry only grew when he carried you to the couch and you still didn’t come to.  He held your limp body up with one hand while he worked your hoodie off with the other, leaving you in a tank top and yoga pants.  He’d strip that off you too, if he had to.  Every inch of bare skin he touched felt like it was on fire! 

     “Why isn’t she waking up?”  Garth asked handing Sam a kitchen towel.

     “Dehydration.  With a fever this high, it can happen quick.”  Sam dipped the towel in the water filled coffee mug and bathed your face and neck.  Sure enough, his efforts were rewarded.

     You groaned, even that soft sound reverberated through your pounding head.  Everything hurt and all you wanted was to slip back into the blankness of sleep.   But it was so noisy!  Someone kept talking, like the parents in a Snoopy cartoon.  Unintelligible, insistent, and so annoying!

     Sam gently tapped your cheeks, “Y/N.  Come on, darlin.  Open your eyes for me.”

     With a bit of coaxing, you did as he asked.  Everything around you swirled and slowly came into focus.  Your head felt heavy and fell to the side, Sam was there and smiled down at you.  As a reflex, you smiled back before your fevered brain could catch up and tell you who you were looking at.

     “Hey… it’s my hero.”

     Sam chuckled in relief, “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”

     “You’re here.  That’s so nice… why are you here?”

     “You passed out,” he replied, pressing the cool cloth to your brow.  “Do you remember what happened?”

     You tried to search your memory, but everything was so fuzzy!  “Um, I came home from work… I was sick.  Felt really bad.  Everything hurt.  Achy and cold.  Headache.  Then I ordered soup from the place down on Main Street.  I dunno…I feel a little out of it.”

     There was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around your bicep that was inflating.  Where did that come from?  Sam was doing that doctor thing where they listen to you talk while taking vitals at the same time.   

     How did doctors do that?  Did they teach that in med school?  It seemed especially confusing to you as your thoughts kept skipping away and going down rabbit holes.

     Cool fingers felt under your jaw, pressing against swollen lymph nodes.  He always had such a gentleness about him.  Such grace.  Surprising for a man of his size, but he seemed to take such care with you.  Like you were the most rare, delicate creature in the world.

     Last week when you found yourself stuck in the elevator, it was Sam who answered your call.  He muscled open the doors single handed and lifted you up though the opening without breaking a sweat.  You were more than a little awe struck by his display of strength and chivalry.  If you’d had half a brain, you’d have invited him for coffee as a thank you.  As it was, you were preoccupied with being late to work.  A sadly missed opportunity with your handsome neighbor.

     “You came home from work, was that last night?”

     “Um, yeah.  Yes.  As if Mondays aren’t sucky enough.”

     Sam’s eyebrows rose, “That was two days ago.”

     “What?”

     “Today’s Wednesday.”

     That information had you on the move.  You sat straight up and instantly went white.  The room titled and if it weren’t for Sam’s hands steadying your shoulders, you probably would have slid right off the couch.

     “Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Not so fast,” Sam advised, forcing you to recline.

     “I gotta go call work… or… somebody.”

     “The only place you are going is to the E.R.”

     “No, I can’t go to the hospital.”

     “Y/N, listen to me.  You’re dehydrated to the point that you fainted.  Your fever is 103, that’s dangerous territory.” 

     Sam tried to be stern, but he just didn’t have it in him.  You looked so pitiful with your hair sticking to the sweat slick skin and the dark smudges under your eyes.  You were desperately sick and he wasn’t going to simply leave you without treatment.

     “I know a lot of people are scared of the doctor, but I promise I’ll be right there with you.”

     You swallowed, wincing at the feeling of knives in your throat.  “I’m not scared, I’m uninsured.  My job is new, benefits don’t kick in for thirty days.”

     Garth piped up, “You’re a doctor, can’t you just prescribe something and treat her here?”

     “It’s not that simple.  She needs to be admitted so they can get an I.V. going and get some fluids into her system.  And bring that fever under control.”

     He felt your head loll against him.  He looked down in alarm and found you’d lost consciousness again. 

     “Y/N?  Wake up, Y/N!” 

     This time no amount of effort would bring you around. 

     “Damn it,” Sam growled as he got to his feet.  He grabbed a notepad from your entry table and scribbled a list down.  “Do you know that walk-in clinic on 42nd street?”

     Garth followed him, “Yeah, I pass it on my way to work.”

     “Great.  My brother is on call there tonight, go in and ask for Dean.  Tell him it’s for me, he’ll help you.”  Sam tore off the list and thrust it into Garth’s hand, “Get everything and hurry!”

     Garth shoved the paper in his pocket, “What if they don’t believe me?  That clinic isn’t in the best part of town, junkies hassle them all the time.”

     “Dean will believe you but in case he doesn’t say Poughkeepsie.  It’s our go word, means drop everything.”

     “A secret code word, you guys must be brothers,” Garth muttered on his way out the door.

     You woke feeling warm.  Bundled up in something soft and secure.  Your eyes stayed closed as you enjoyed the luxurious feeling.  Most mornings you woke up stiff with your muscles complaining about the ancient futon you had yet to replace.  It was left over from college and the wood slats dug into your hips, but moving to a new town was expensive!  Anything like a proper mattress would have to wait until you had a few more paychecks under your belt.

     You stretched a bit, content to roll over and fall back into your dreams, but something tugged on your hand and pinched.  You frowned and tried again; it was like you were caught in a fishing net. 

     “What the hell…?”  You grumbled unhappily, determined to keep your eyes closed out of stubbornness.  You blindly felt around and found a tube and tape attached to your right hand.

     Your eyes popped open.  An I.V.?

     You weren’t in your bed.  You weren’t in your room!  Where the hell were you? 

     The dimensions matched your bedroom, but it wasn’t bare bones like yours.  This one was painted a lovely smoke grey.  Bookshelves lined one wall and a mahogany dresser matched it on the other.  The bed was the biggest you’d ever seen.  The headboard was massive and intricately carved.  The mattress was firm but yielding. 

     The bedside table housed bottles of medication, a stethoscope, a digital thermometer, and a glass of water.  You remembered being sick.  Sicker than you’d ever felt.  You remembered your boss sending you home then… nothing.  Just a blur. 

     You sat up slowly.  When the room didn’t spin, you decided to press your luck.  You pulled back the covers enough to dangle your feet over the edge.  Your toes found plush carpet.  You felt weak, but not dizzy.  And you were cold without the blankets.  Looking down you found bare legs.  You were wearing only your tank top and Wonder Woman underwear. 

     Fuck.  Where the hell are my clothes?!

     With a quick yank, you pulled the I.V. out and headed for the door. 

     “Yeah, Dean I know.  If I promise to wash and wax your car, will you get off my case?”

     “No way in hell you are waxing my Baby, do I need to remind you about Liza Raffaella in the eighth grade?”

     “Please don’t,” Sam groaned into the phone. 

     “It’s wax on, wax off.  Not wax on, go chat up a nerd girl for three hours while the wax bakes on in the sun!”

     “Sam?”

     Sam spun at the raspy voice behind him.  You were standing in the hall, your hand braced against the wall for balance.  You looked a little wobbly, but far better than you had in hours.

     “I gotta go,” he told his brother before ending the call.  “Y/N, hey.  How you feeling?”

     “Confused.  How did I get here and where are my clothes?”

     “Oh!”  Sam’s cheeks colored instantly as he grabbed a soft, woven throw from the back of an over-sized chair.  He draped it over your shoulders and ushered you to the sofa.

     “Sorry about that, your fever was sky high.  Needed to bring it down in a hurry.  Here, sit.”

     You sank down onto a couch that was just as comfortable as the bed you’d woken up in.  Sam disappeared into the kitchen then returned with a glass of ginger ale and some crackers.  He was rattling off something about Chinese takeout and your pants being in the laundry.  All the while he was fussing over you.  His long fingers found the pulse point on your wrist, and he produced a pen light from somewhere to check your pupils.

     After a few minutes, he realized you were staring at him, “Y/N?”

     “Sam, grateful that I am for your hospitality and bedside manner… I still don’t understand why I’m here.” 

     “Well, I figured it would be a better place for you to recover… with all the construction.”

     Now you were really confused, “Construction?”

     Sam rubbed the back of his neck and embarrassment turned his ears pink, “Yeah.  I ah… I kinda broke down your door.”

     “What?!”

     “You weren’t answering!  I just had a really bad feeling, and I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

     His gaze traveled your face then locked on your eyes.  “I was worried about you.”

     You looked at him, really looked.  He was beautiful, as he always was, but there was an edge of exhaustion to his features.  His five o’clock shadow was darker than you’d ever seen it.  The fine lines around his eyes and lips were etched deeper and his hazel eyes were slightly red.  Even his enviable hair was disheveled. 

     “So, you committed destruction of property to save my life?”

     “I did.”  He gave a nod, his tone teasing, “You gonna turn me in?”

     A small smile played around your lips, “Nah.  I might need your services again.  I have a habit of getting into trouble.  Nice to know I’ve got my own personal hero on call.”

     “You call, I’ll come running.”

Two Years Later:

     “That was not our first date!”

     “We spent the entire weekend curled up in my bed, it counts.”

     “I was unconscious!”

     “Not the whole time,” Sam countered, threading his fingers through yours, “Sometimes you’d wake up.  Of course, you were delirious.  You did have some of the most creative fever dreams… what was that one about the Catholic church hiding the existence of extra-terrestrials by dressing them up like the clergy?”

     “They were hiding dinosaurs, not aliens.  Tiny dinosaurs under their creepy old lady robes.  And still, not a date.  I think you’ll find most dating experts would agree with me on this.”

    “Dating experts?”

     “Your brother.”

     Sam huffed out a laugh, “Don’t be fooled by the rumors, he’s not the Casanova everyone thinks he is.”

     “I dunno, guy gets a lot of dates.”

     “First dates.  Ask him about his batting average for second dates.”

     “Oh yeah?  Got him beat, do you?”

     “Hands down.”

     Sam curled a finger under your chin and brought his lips down to meet yours.  You hummed happily as an electric spark zinged all the way down to your toes.  It was crazy that even after two years he still managed to excite you with just a touch, or a look.  You never had to doubt his feelings for you, he wore them openly and proudly.  He never missed the opportunity to hold your hand in the grocery store or to wrap his arm around your shoulders at the movies.   A kiss to the temple, a hand at the small of your back.  Every touch was filled with the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day.  Every night was filled with the heat and passion of desire that could never be sated. 

     You leaned into Sam’s side as he guided the two of you down the winding path that cut through the willows.  “So, tell me Doctor Winchester, why haven’t I been to your family’s estate before?”

     “I wouldn’t call it an estate, it’s just a few acres.”

     “I don’t care if it’s a patch of dead grass… you have horses!  Horses, Sam!  I’ve wanted to go horseback riding since I was ten.”

     “We might be able to squeeze in a lesson for you before we head home.”

     “Really?!”

     “I’ll bet you’re a natural, you’re already an expert with a riding crop,” he whispered in your ear.

     “Sam!”  You admonished him, instantly turning red, “That was a one time!”

     “Best birthday ever.  And to answer your question; you haven’t been here before because I was waiting.”

     The path curved and opened up to a decent sized pond.  A dock jutted out onto the clear, still waters and ended in an elaborate gazebo.  Painted a picturesque white and topped with a copper finial, hundreds of tiny fairy lights hung from the rafters glittering with magic and romance. 

     “Oh wow,” you breathed, following Sam down the planks.  “This is like something out of a book.  God, it’s beautiful!”

     “My parents built this place from the ground up.  Mom had this vision in her head about a pond where she could come and watch ducks.  Teach her kids to swim and fish.  So, one summer, Dad started digging.  I don’t think he even had a plan, all the neighbors thought he was crazy!  But he was stubborn and determined.  And he loved my mom more than anything.”

     You walked out to the end of the platform and leaned out on the railing.  Dragonflies danced along the surface of the water as the sun began to set and the crickets started to sing.  “He did a great job.  Did he build the gazebo too?”

     “Anniversary present,” he confirmed, joining you by the railing.  “This was my favorite spot when I was a kid.  Dean loved the garage, hanging with Dad and tearing apart trucks with the radio blasting.  I couldn’t stand the noise, so I’d come out here.  Even in the winter.”

     Suddenly, a swan flew down and landed in the middle of the water.  Graceful and noble, it glided across the water sending the slightest of ripples out in its wake.  As it turned, you could see a single black feather against the white of its tail. 

     “Oh!  I’ve never seen a swan with one black feather.”

     “He’s always had it, never could figure out why.  He showed up when I was ten and just never left.  I call him Solomon.”

     “Is it just him?  I thought swans always paired up?”  

     “Well, that’s the thing, they do have mates for life, but he showed up alone.  And I know it sounds silly, but he was mopey.  He didn’t take a lot of interest in anything; he didn’t interact with the ducks or even pay any attention to me when I tried to feed him.  He was sad.  Some animals grieve and I think he was grieving for his lost mate.”

     “Poor guy,” you murmured, watching as Sam took a packet of birdseed from his pocket and tossed a bit out on the water. 

     “When I left for college, Solomon migrated and didn’t come back in the spring.  I thought I’d seen the last of him, but then I got a call from Mom this past summer.  He was back and he brought someone with him.”

     As if on cue, a second swan swooped down and landed beside Solomon.  Pure white and just as lovely.  They looked like a postcard, gliding on the sunlit water.

     “You’re kidding!  He found another mate?  I didn’t know swans would do that!”

     “Some do, special cases.  And Solomon’s no fool, he might have been content to be alone forever, but when that right one came along, he snapped her up.”

     “That’s amazing!”  You turned to Sam with a beaming grin, but stopped short when you realized he wasn’t standing there beside you.  He was kneeling. 

     “Sam.”

     He took both of your hands in his, tipping his face back to gaze up at you with such tenderness and devotion it made your breath catch.

     “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time.  I knew what I wanted to do and how I wanted it to look, but the words never came.  Everything I wrote seemed inadequate.  Even the word love falls short.  It’s not enough, it’s not big enough.  Being with you is a revelation, Y/N.  You call me your hero, but baby… it’s the other way around.  You rescued me.”

     Tears had already gathered in your eyes when he pulled out a blue velvet box.  A diamond solitaire sparkled inside like a star in the sky. 

     “I don’t know if I’ll ever have the words, but I swear to show you.  To treasure you, to make your happiness my mission.  To answer your call and to love you for all my days.”

     You dropped down to your knees and tackled him.  Your arms flung around his neck, nearly knocking him over in your enthusiasm.   He caught you with a laugh and kept the two of you from tumbling off into the water.  You kissed every square inch of the face you’d loved since he first rescued you.  And you laughed.  Joy bubbled up from your heart like effervescent Champagne.

     “You astonishing,” Kiss. “Brilliant,” kiss. “Romantic,” kiss, kiss. “Beautiful,” kiss, kiss, kiss.

     “Y/N… baby…”

     “Yes?” Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

     His hands wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back slightly so he could look into your eyes.  He traced the curve of your face, fondly tucking your hair behind your ear.  You were always moving, always racing towards everything in life.  It was something he loved about you, your exuberance.  Your passion!  You burned so bright, his light even on the darkest days. 

     “Will you marry me?”

     Your brow creased in confusion before you realized, he didn’t actually say the words a moment ago.  You been so excited that he never got the chance. 

     “Yes,” you nodded, your forehead coming to rest against his. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

     Sam slipped the ring onto your finger, “Will you look at that?  Perfect fit.”

     “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”  You shifted so that you were sitting in his lap, your hand cupped his jaw, “I should tell you up front that I tend to get into trouble, there’s a good chance that you’ll be required to rescue me from time to time.”

     “Good thing rescuing you is my second favorite activity.”

     “Second favorite?”

     “Yeah,” he murmured against the curve of your neck, “Let me show you the front runner.”

     Before long, Sam had swept you away in a haze with his deft fingers and clever tongue.  The title of Hero that you bestowed on him became a running joke through the years and then a loving nickname.  But that didn’t make it any less true.  He’d always been a hero, and now he was yours. TAGLIST @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetryy @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witchly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007

[yunggoblin]

Sam Winchester - Masterlist

💦 = Smut, 💖= Fluff, 🌩 = Angst

Innocent, Yet Dirty -💦

Summary: *Based off of Season 11 episode 12!* You're the youngest out of Jody's girls. What happens when the topic of sex comes across during dinner? (18+, Smut, Minors DNI)

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

Oh my god. I don’t know if you’re still active but if you want to ofc and are still active. PLEASE write a part 2 for Sam Winchester, hero… it was amazing. Maybe you can spin it so the reader goes with them and somehow survives the fire. ORRRR kill the reader off. I just found you but I’m 100% giving your ass a follow fr

Hiiiiiii, I'm so happy you enjoyed my work and thank you so much for following :)) I am still active on this account I'm actually just finishing off a Dean x reader with a little Sam x reader ;) but I really love this idea and this is definitely my next project thank you so much for the idea ill get started on it as soon as possible :)))

[slut-for-evans-stan]

Since Christmas is near, I'm planning on doing two holiday fics and I need ideas/prompts on how to go about them.

One will be a Cevans character x reader fluff.

The second one a smut, still deciding who it should be on though.

Any ideas, requests or help is highly appreciated!

You can comment here or personally message me.

Here's a poll to select the character for the 2nd fic. If you've any other characters in mind, please add them in the comments.

Sending love to anyone reading this ^_^

[spnfanficpond]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan/Jared Padalecki Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Jeffrey Dean Morgan Additional Tags: Photography, Modeling, Threesome - M/M/M, Married Couple, Open Marriage, Kink Negotiation, Safe Sane and Consensual, BDSM, Model Jared Padalecki, Photographer Jensen Ackles, Dom Jeffrey Dean Morgan, porn star jeffrey dean morgan, Sub Jared Padalecki, Bottom Jared Padalecki, Switch Jensen Ackles, Safer Sex, Bondage, Orgasm Control, Blindfolds, Masks, Foot Fetish, Spreader Bars, Caning, Ass to Mouth, Flogging Summary:

Jeffrey and Jensen book a model for a fetish shoot. As always, they handle things very professionally.