#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’.

[ribbonsncherries]

The Contract

Warnings: Lots of smut, P in V, Oral (both m and f receiving), BDSM!, Sexual Assault, Stalking, Angst, Alcohol mentions, Dominant and submissive plot, Drug Mentions, Virgin user, mentions of drugs.

Chapter 1

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x inexperienced! User

Summary: When her roommate and work partner gets sick, she is in charge of interviewing famous billionaire businessman Dean Winchester for his new bar's grand opening which leads to a passionate and tumultuous affair where she discovers his dark sexual desires, marked by control and dominance. The one catch? He doesn't do romance.

Based on the trilogy Fifty Shades of Grey.

(3473 Words)

Divider credits: @dollywons, @anitalenia, @selysie

 “Please!” her roommate Jessica repeated yelling at her. (y/n) poured hot water into a coffee mug, placed a tea bag in the water, and began mixing with a spoon. “What did I tell you about yelling? Your throat is already damaged from the yelling at this point.” she scolded. Jessica sighed as (y/n) passed her the mug filled with tea. Jessica pouted as she poured in some honey. “I just need you to do this one thing. One thing.” (y/n) and Jessica are partners for a famous magazine ‘Runway’, Jessica and (y/n) were going to interview famous billionaire Dean Winchester who had just opened a new bar in their city. Dean was a longtime famous topic in Runway cause of the girls who swooned over him since he was single, so Runway only thought of the dynamic duo to interview him the next day. If only Jessica hadn’t become a walking disease. 

“It’s just one interview without me you can do this. Besides I’ve already got some questions written down, just press play on the tape recorder and ask away,” she said. (y/n) rolled her eyes as she drank her tea, “I’m only doing this cause Castiel is going to beat us up if we don’t get this article in.” she agreed. Jessica smiled as she lifted her arms. “Yes! (y/n) saves the day again!” she said before coughing up a storm, “ow.” Jessica thought for a moment and grabbed the laptop sitting across from her on the coffee table, just as she was about to reach out (y/n) grabbed it before she did, “Not a chance. You need to stay and rest, that means no working until you feel better.” Although Jessica groaned she agreed. “Night roomie,” she rasped getting up from the couch and to her room. 

The next day (y/n) got up early and did extra research since she was doing this alone. She quickly called Castiel to inform him that she would be able to do this alone and quickly for the article to get posted and submitted by next week. She dressed up professionally yet comfortably since this was a grand opening at almost 9 in the morning. She dressed up in black dress pants and boots, pairing it with a basic black shirt and sweater. She grabbed what she needed and met Jessica in their living room who was blowing her nose into her tissue. “You're so lucky you get to meet the Dean Winchester,” Jessica complained. (y/n)’s lips curled into a smile as she heated a bagel. “You’re a dork, Jess,’’ she laughed. Before she left (y/n) packed her bag with her media pass, notebook, and tape recorder. As she was putting on her boots Jessica immediately got up. 

“I almost forgot” she rasped. Jessica dug through her work bag and gave (y/n) a piece of paper with questions to ask Dean. “Ask him these would ya.” (y/n) looked up to Jessica while she offered a sheepish grin. “Good luck.” (y/n) thanked her before starting her car. As she headed to the bar nerves were kicking in. She’s always had Jessica by her side so this was strange going to interview someone famous without her. When she pulled up into a parking garage she put on her media pass around her neck and grabbed her bag. As she began getting closer to the bar she saw a crowd of people, especially paparazzi and girls screaming his name. She took a deep breath in and began squeezing her way to the front. “Excuse me!” she called out to the event worker. She flashed her media pass. “I’m here with Runway magazine I think I’m supposed to be-” 

“Media cannot pass this barrier.” The man said. (y/n) puffed her cheeks in frustration. “Yeah, I know I work for Castiel Novak, the editor-in-chief. I know he’s a good friend of Mr. Winches-” 

“Don’t care stay behind the line.” (y/n) groaned out anger and clenched her teeth in annoyance. When Dean Winchester came by the Paparazzi began crowding amongst each other. Everyone shoulder-to-shoulder. She tried to get past through but there was no way around it. As Dean cut the ribbon he saw the commotion going on beyond the bright flashes of the camera pointing at him a woman with a large camera pushed (y/n) to the ground. Dean whispered to his assistant Benny, As (y/n) got up she looked over to the entrance where a man in a suit was looking straight at her. Benny went up to the barrier of media, “Hey, girl in the sweater.” (y/n) looked up and pointed to herself, Benny nodded his head as he made a signal with his hand for the reporters and paparazzi to move, (y/n) now had a clear path and was invited inside by Benny through the back. As she was invited inside she was told to stay there until Dean was available to talk to her. When Benny left she took in her surroundings. It was dark, the light sources only being from the warm lights of the fake candles and rustic chandeliers. She saw many pool tables as well as booths next to it. A bar in almost every corner of each room she was surrounded by. She began walking around slowly clenching her bag, everything was quiet besides the commotion of screaming girls and paparazzi, and the slow clacking of her boots. She approached the pool room where there was a row of 5 pool tables and a bar. Her fingers ran through the smooth green velvet and smooth brown wood. 

“Do you play?” said a deep rusty voice. (y/n) jumped and turned around only to be face-to-face with Dean Winchester. He was tall and intimidating from his broad shoulders down to his dress shoes, His emerald eyes gazed upon her as he asked the question, and she quickly took her hand away from the table. “I’m so sorry, they just told me to wait here.” she smiled awkwardly. Dean could only keep a stern look with a slight smirk while (y/n)’s smile went down as she cleared her throat, “If it’s ok with you, Runway would like to interview you about the grand opening.” she said quietly. 

“I asked if you play,” He said. (y/n) glanced at the pool table, “sometimes, I’m not very good at it.” she uttered. “Let’s take a seat,” he said before leading her to the bar near the pool tables. She sat on the stool, put her hands on her lap, and looked down nervously. ‘Damn he is hot’ she thought. As he came around the bar he said “Cas told me there were supposed to be two of you.” (y/n) almost forgot. “Oh yes, well Jessica came down with the flu and it’s pretty bad so I’m alone for a moment.” she smiled. “Want anything?” he asked as he began grabbing glass cups with the bar logo on them. (y/n) was taken aback, “drinks this early?” she asked him. Dean looked at her while he poured whiskey for himself. “Doesn’t hurt to drink early once in a while,” he said looking up at her with his offer still standing. “Sure, I’ll take red wine if you have it please, and thank you,” she said.

“We can begin with that interview if you want,” Dean said as he poured her wine and slid the cup toward her. (y/n) nodded once more as she began taking out the voice recorder and notes to write along with Jessica’s questions. She began digging through her bag in search of a pencil or pen she had forgotten to pack. “Fuck” she muttered to herself. Dean dug through the inside pocket of his suit and handed her a pen with his company name on it. ‘Winchester Elixirs’. She saw the pen handed to her and gently took it. “Thanks” she mumbled. She pressed record on the voice recorder and set it down between them. She cleared her throat “Um, so, this is for the special article for Runway Magazine, You are young at the age of 26 to have made a popular chain of bars, to what do you owe your s-” “To what do I owe my success?” he interrupted and scoffed. She looked at him awkwardly and nodded “Yep…” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yep…” 

“Okay um… We know that you are a business man but do you enjoy doing things outside of work?” She asked pressing the pen to her bottom lip and looking up at him to answer the question. 

Dean had his hands on the edge of the counter, his grip tensed with his knuckles going white. “I enjoy many physical pursuits as well as managing cars.” (y/n) nodded as she went through Jessica’s questions “You're unmarried- wait no. um… you had a mother that died- oh my god, I’m sorry I didn-” 

“Do you have an actual question Ms…?” 

“(l/n), but you can me (y/n)” she said. 

“Give me an actual question,” he said. She rapidly nodded and brought it down to look at Jessica’s notes. Her head came back up to look at him, and her eyes dropped with sadness. "Um, what is it like being a successful businessman and having to be a family man with your younger brother?"

Dean smirked thinking of his younger brother Sam, "To answer your first question, yes, my mother did die when I was very young. and my brother was only 6 months old. It's hard but. this is our harsh reality, what better way to just drink through it, why else do you think this empire is up and up, causing people to need to drink their thoughts away. Life, death, lousy interviews." he mumbled. (y/n) looked at him with sadness on her face. "Mr. Winchester, I'm so sorry it wasn't my place to ask that," she said. Dean could only look at her, he could tell she was biting the inside of her cheek and gripping her notebook from embarrassment, "Ask another question, go ahead I'm not gonna kill you." he scoffed, (y/n) smiled softly at him as she looked through Jessica's notes once more.

Are you gay?” she asked him with direct eye contact, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes widened, she just asked a personal question which he answered and now it's led to this ridiculous answer. As she looked back at her notes, she chuckled awkwardly “It’s written here I’m so-’’

“No, (y/n). I’m not gay,” he said with a small smirk and chuckle. She smiled “I’m sorry Jessica can be a little.”

“Intrusive?” 

“More like curious.” 

He saw her, the way her lips were in contact with his pen. He looked up and down at her taking in her curves, her hair, her eyes. “Mr. Winchester, you’re meeting is about to begin in an hour.” Benny interrupted. “Cancel it, I’m a little busy here,” he said to him before he left. “No, it’s ok I can leave if you want me to,” she said softly. 

His emerald eyes looked into hers, “I want to know more about you.” his voice rumbled. She drank a bit of her wine slowly, “There’s not much to know besides this.” she said glancing at the recorder and notes. “What do you like?” Dean asked. (y/n) was thinking for a second before saying “I like music. Especially old 70s Rock, my dad used to play a lot on his record player all the time when I was a girl.”

“Let me take a good guess, You look like a Led Zeppelin gal to me…” he said observing more of her features as he thought. (y/n) looked down for a minute before she laughed softly. “Well I like Fleetwood Mac mostly, and Derek & The Dominos. Those are what I’m listening to the most right now,” she said. Dean hummed. 

“Let’s continue,” he said. (y/n) nodded once more and began asking more questions Jessica had written down even though she was skipping most of them. By the time they were done (y/n) cussed at herself for not asking many questions and even the ones she did ask were dumb and stupid almost everybody knew the answer to them before they even saw his response. “Thanks for the drink,” she said smiling. “I hope you got everything you needed sweetheart.” He said to her. Though she knew he said that to other girls it made her stomach flutter. “Thanks, I think you only answered about five questions,” she said before leaving. “Thank you for your time.” she smiled before leaving the bar. Dean looked down at her bag to see the slip of paper halfway out, so when she turned her head he quickly grabbed the piece of paper from her bag and pocketed the questions, it was then he realized she accidentally took his pen with her. 

When she got in her car she sighed to herself and let out a deep breath. “Holy shit,” she muttered in her head all she could think of was how hot Dean was. The pictures the press took of him were no match for how he looked in person.

When she got home she saw Jessica on her computer with tissues surrounding her. “Jess, what did I tell you about worki-” 

“I fucking love you so much (y/n),” Jessica shouted as the sounds of clicking surrounded the living room. “What?” (y/n) asked in confusion. Jessica looked up at her and smiled big “Dean just emailed me and he answered every question, this is perfect.” She exclaimed. “So…” She said with mischief. (y/n) took off her sweater and threw it on the couch, she looked at Jessica with confusion, “So what?” she asked. 

“What was he like?” Jessica asked with her whole body moving toward her as (y/n) sat down on the coffee table. “Well…he was fine I guess,” she said. Jessica looked at her skeptically, “Fine? Just fine?” she said in confusion. (y/n) scoffed as she began taking off her boots. “Well, he was nice he gave me some free wine. He was very formal…and clean,” she said. Jessica laughed “Clean?” she asked. (y/n) thought about him more oblivious to Jessica laughing. “He was nice, Intimidating…very intimidating. I mean I can understand the hype around him,” she said looking up at Jessica who was grinning at her. “Jess… Why are you looking at me like that?” (y/n) smiled. 

“Like what?” (y/n) rolled her eyes before going to the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. “Whatever Jessica.” she sighed. Jessica was curious one last time and looked him up online. She clicked on images and began scrolling, “But (y/n) you’ve got to admit he is so hot.” (y/n) scoffed “Well, he could be when you're into that…kind of…human.” she said finishing making her sandwich. “By the way, I asked if he was gay. That was so embarrassing. He looked at me like I was a freak.” (y/n) laughed. Jessica apologized. “I'm sorry but hey, whenever we see photos of him he has never been photographed with a woman before so I just thought-”

“Jessica have you ever thought that maybe this guy wants to keep his life private I mean he’s already in the media so much.” (y/n) said. Jessica smirked “Awwe look at you defending him.” she teased.

“I’m going to my room.” (y/n) said with a mouthful of her sandwich. Jessica immediately got up and coughed a bit before jumping in front of her. “Wait, (y/n) I'm sorry. Can you make me some of those too?” she asked politely. (y/n) rolled her eyes before going back to the kitchen to make her a sandwich. “Thanks (y/n). I’ll be right back Mother Nature calls,” she said. (y/n) looked over at Jessica’s computer and saw the images of Dean and his dark blonde hair and emerald eyes, She closed Jessica’s laptop before making the sandwich to try and get her mind off him. 

“(y/n)!” (y/n) turned around to see one of her friends, she smiled as he continued walking next to her. “Hey, James.” she smiled. “So, a couple of friends are going to this photography exhibition and going to dinner afterward. Wanna come?” he asked hopeful she would say yes. He has liked her since she got promoted to their floor with Jessica. “Well that sounds fun but I can’t I’ve got a lot of writing to do for the new Winchester article. So I’ll be in my office all day.” she sighed as she stopped dead in her tracks. James’s face went down slightly “No, it’s fine we can hang out some other time.” he said bringing his arm behind his neck and rubbing it awkwardly. (y/n) smiled “I promise I’ll make it up to you guys, we can hang when Jessica feels better so the whole group can hang. Ok?” she said oblivious to what he was trying to do. James nodded before she walked off to her office. She closed the door and sat down on her desk. She opened her laptop and began writing away. 

It had been a few hours until one of her secretaries called “Hi (y/n), Dean Winchester is asking to see you. Do I send him to your office?” she asked. Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach fluttered once more. (y/n) picked up the phone “Yeah, Jenna send him in, thank you.” she said. She heard the door knock. “Come in!” she said. Dean Winchester came into her office and looked around. He was dressed in a casual red flannel and jeans rather than his usual tux. “Hey, Please have a seat if you want.” (y/n) said, smiling at him. He continued looking more and saw autographs from celebrities and pictures of her and friends. "Did you want a drink? I have some water and apple juice?" She asked politely, Dean pulled out a chair and sat down "No thanks, sweetheart." He said casually

“What can I help you with?” she asked. Dean looked at her like he was observing her. She was worried if she had something on her face or her teeth. 

“Just wondering if you got the email I sent to your partner?” He asked. (y/n) glanced at him from her laptop “Um. Yes she did thank you for that by the way I know her questions were a bit invasive.” she said with her eyebrows up in sympathy. “No, it’s fine I was more than happy to answer them,” he said to her. “Is that it?” she asked politely. “Did you grow up in this town?” he asked her. (y/n) nodded “Yep born and raised.” she said smiling. Dean smirked “I need to pick up a few things, do you know a grocery store near here that sells whipped cream and zip ties?” (y/n) looked at him curiously “Well there’s a grocery store nearby that sells most of those things, it’s actually around the corner of Rose Street,” she smiled “What on earth are you planning? sounds like a torture device” she joked. “Are you baking something?" she asked curious and oblivious.

Dean smirked at her and tilted his head. “Yeah, what would you recommend I get?” he asked. (y/n) thought for a moment leaning back on her chair. “Well, maybe an apron to cover yourself to protect your clothes.” She said gesturing to his flannel. His smirk grew bigger “I’ll just take off all my clothes.” he said in a low rough voice. (y/n) could almost choke from his statement. “Ok…no clothes– I mean no apron…” She smiled and cleared her throat and began taking a sip of her water. “Thanks, how is your roommate feeling by the way?” 

“She’s a little better, right now she's working a little from home but she's having trouble finding a good photo especially the permissions and stuff so-” 

“If she’d want an original I can swing by here tomorrow,” he suggested (y/n) was taken aback. “You would do that?” she asked softly. “Yeah.” It was as simple as that. He agreed and (y/n) was feeling ecstatic inside. Dean took out his wallet to pull out his business card with his number “I’m staying at the Pacifica Lux Hotel call me anytime.” he said before walking out. “Ok bye…” she waved awkwardly. She leaned back against her chair, she mentally smacked her head from how embarrassing that whole conversation was. She took a deep breath before continuing with her work. She decided to wait until she was home to surprise Jessica.

A/N: Hello! I'm already having fun planning this. Fifty Shades is honestly so bad it's good. Trust me, besides the sex scenes, the plot is kind of good, lmao. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for liking and reposting the announcement, especially to my followers! Again, my suggestion box is open for writing new stories between this book's waiting chapters. Thanks for reading. I'll see you all next Friday!

[daylighted]

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

[ambiguous-avery]

Read for Me

Sam Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 3408

Summary: Researching with Sam was always a treat. Unlike most hunters who did it simply as a means to an end, Sam always seemed to genuinely enjoy having a nose in the books. He was a kindred spirit in that way. Maybe that’s what made you fall for him. Turns out, he’s felt the same way about you. Who said researching couldn’t be fun?

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, no use of Y/N, she/her pronouns, femme nicknames (baby, pretty girl), reader is AFAB, oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V sex (remember to be safe, friends), spanking, PWP (Plot? What plot?), no beta we die like men

A/N: I may be a Dean girlie through and through, but I’d have to be absolutely blind to not appreciate how damn good Sam looks. I’m a sucker for guys with longer hair. I’ve never written for Sam, and I don’t feel like I have as solid of a grasp on his character. But hey, we all gotta start somewhere yeah? I am apparently incapable of writing a short smut piece. Also in my head, Sam is a kinky fucker, and no I will not hear otherwise.

It had been far too long since you sat in the library of the bunker, nose-deep into a lore book. The last several months had seen you taking hunts all across the west coast with little to no reprieve in between jobs. Such was the life, though. There was always something else to hunt. Always someone else to save. Always some threat that needed to be put down. It was a hectic way to live, but you couldn’t deny that it was fulfilling. You helped people. And that would always make it worth it.

But that only made the quiet moments that much more precious. 

The Winchester’s bunker was hardly home, but any hunter worth their salt would be hard pressed to find a library of this caliber. You may have been a decent hunter in the field, but texts and manuscripts were where you really shone. Sam and Dean had answered your call for help on hunts before, and you had done the same on occasion. There had always been a hint of something between you and Sam from the beginning, but neither of you acted on it. The life of a hunter wasn’t one that afforded either of you the luxury of getting attached to any one person. So the two of you simply existed in the orbit of the other, occasionally passing close but never touching. Never breaking that physical barrier. 

But the both of you could appreciate being around the other without the need to directly interact. Which is why you were sat across the table from Sam in the bunker library, each of you engrossed in your own book. You peeked over the top of the pages, sneaking a glimpse of him in his zone. He had no right looking as handsome as he was. The way his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. The way his lips moved silently as he read. It was all too captivating. You quickly averted your eyes back to your own book, cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the bunker's heating system. 

A creak of the chair across from you broke through your focus, and you looked up to see Sam closing his book. His hazel eyes met yours, and there was a flicker of something unnamable that passed between you. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to the bookshelves, running his fingers over the spines of the ancient tomes as he searched for a specific volume. You watched him move with a quiet grace, admiring the way his muscles shifted beneath his flannel shirt. Sam finally pulled out a thick, leather-bound book and made his way back to the table, sitting across from you again. You went back to focusing on your book.

Sam glanced up from the tome in front of him, catching a peek of you engrossed in the text. A soft smile played on his lips as he let himself admire from afar. No one read like you did. The way your eyebrows rose and fell when you read something new. There was always a glint in your eye when you stumbled upon a particularly interesting passage, and Sam couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through his chest. When you turned the page and chewed on your lip, Sam made the executive decision that he was done with the unspoken connection.

He cleared his throat, his breath briefly catching when you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Can I be honest with you for a moment?” he asked slowly, steeling his nerves. You set your book down, your heart racing at the vulnerability in Sam’s gaze. His question lingered in the air, heavy with unvoiced feelings that danced between you.

“Of course,” you nodded, urging him to continue. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his expression before he took a deep breath.

“I… I know that we’ve kept each other at arm’s length. For good reason,” he started, his eyes never leaving yours. “But every time we’re in the same room, it’s like there’s something unspoken between us. Am I reading that right, or am I completely off?”

You took a steadying breath, tension crackling between the two of you. You simultaneously wanted to thank whatever god might have been watching over you and punch them for encouraging Sam to drag the truth out into the open. You had been content letting whatever there was between you and Sam just sit in the dark, never touching on what it could be. But here it was. Brought into the light at last, waiting to be explored. You swallowed.

“You’re not completely off,” you admitted softly, feeling a rush of both fear and exhilaration at finally acknowledging the undercurrent of something more than had been threatening to pull you under. “There’s always been something, hasn’t there?”

Sam let out a long, slow exhale, relief evident in his eyes as he nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice just barely above a whisper as if the moment would shatter to pieces if he spoke too loud. “I’ve tried to ignore it. Thought it would just fizzle out over time. But it didn’t. And it’s not just me, is it?” he continued, standing from his seat and moving around the table to your side. He reached out tentatively, his fingers grazing yours on the table. “I don’t want to ignore it anymore,” Sam confessed. You intertwined your fingers with his, a rush of raw desire and emotion breaking free from behind the dam you had built up.

“I don’t want to ignore it either.” You looked up at him.

Sam dipped down and pressed his lips against yours in a long-overdue kiss. It was soft and gentle, a tender exploration of something that was simultaneously both familiar and foreign. But as you both grew bolder, the kiss deepened with a fervor that threatened to overtake you all at once. Sam’s free hand came up to cup your cheek, and his tongue swiped at your lower lip. You responded eagerly, parting your lips as his tongue slid against yours. The library melted around you, only leaving the sensation of Sam’s warm touch and the taste of desire on your lips.

When you broke apart, both of you were breathless and flushed with a newfound desire that coursed through your veins. Sam rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all he found instead was a mirrored reflection of the same yearning that burned within him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for longer than I care to admit,” he confessed. You smiled softly, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his face.

“Me too,” you replied, abandoning the book in your hand entirely and twisting in your chair to face him better. You pressed another soft kiss to his lips. “Don’t suppose there’s anything else you’ve wanted to do for a long while, hm?”

The playfulness in Sam’s eyes winked out and was replaced by a smoldering intensity that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. He kissed you again, this time with a hunger that hadn’t been there before. His hand left yours and instead, he tangled his fingers through your hair, carding them through the strands. 

“There might have been one or two other things...” he mumbled against your lips. He straightened up, pulling you out of your chair with him. “Up on the table.”

“Wait, here?” You spoke in a hushed tone, even though you knew that you were the only two in the bunker. Dean had left who knew how long ago, grumbling something about the ‘nerd convention’ being in town. You hadn’t caught the full extent of the conversation, mainly because Sam and his brother could converse with glances alone, and you had given up trying to figure it out forever ago.

“Yeah, here,” Sam confirmed, his voice low and husky with desire. The thrill of it all coursed through you, charging the atmosphere between you further. You didn’t hesitate as he helped you up onto the sturdy wooden table, unceremoniously pushing books and papers aside to make room for you.

Sam stepped between your legs, his hands coming to rest on your waist as his lips found yours once more. It was fervent and needy and full of the promise of more. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles tense beneath his shirt. His lips seared yours, branding you with the heat of his passion and desire. Your lips parted with a quiet moan as his lips trailed down your jawline, leaving a hot trail of kisses along your neck. Your head fell back in a silent invitation, willing to give him access to every inch of your skin. He took it, backing off just long enough to yank your shirt up and unclasping your bra with practiced ease. Although, he couldn’t even be bothered to fully remove anything, just shoving your shirt and bra out of the way as he sucked and nipped at a spot just beneath your collarbone. 

And his hands – God his hands. One kept a hold on your shirt and bra, keeping them out of his way as he teased a nipple between his teeth. The other ran up your back, grabbed a handful of the hair just above the nape of your neck, and pulled, still bracing his arm against you to serve as counterpressure. You arched into his touch, your hips pressing against him in a silent pleas for more of his attention. His hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of you as though he was making up for lost time and memorizing your shape with his fingers alone. Each kiss was slow and deliberate as he took you apart piece by piece. His fingers trailed their way down your sides, grazing your hips and sending a shiver through you. When he finally moved to trail kisses back to your lips, you met him halfway, pulling him closer until you felt the length of him press against your center.

“Fuck, I want you,” you breathed against his ear, voice breathless with need. Sam paused, lifting his head so he could meet your gaze.

“I want you too,” he echoed back to you. “But I don’t know that I want to make it that easy for you.” Your breath hitched at his words, heart pounding in your chest as need swept through you, pooling at your core. The thought that Sam could very well leave you like this, wanting and waiting and so fucking turned on was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling. The playful smirk that crept onto his face told you everything you needed to know; he wouldn’t leave you like this, but he was certainly going to drag it out.

He tugged at the button of your jeans, and there was no elegance in the way he helped you shimmy out of them and your panties. The surface of the library table was cool against your skin, and just when you thought that Sam couldn’t possibly be any sexier than he already way, he sank to his knees. Watching a man as physically imposing as him drop to his knees before you was a sight that needed to be imprinted on the back of your eyelids so you could see it again and again and again. His hands were steady on your hips as he tugged you to the edge of the table, his eyes only leaving yours when he pressed a kiss to your knee. The heat of his breath ghosted across your skin as he kissed and licked his way up the inside of one thigh. Then, avoiding the spot where you wanted him most, he sucked a bruise on your other thigh, trailing kisses back down until he was at your other knee. You reached down, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and urging him on.

“Beg when you’ve had enough,” was your only warning before his mouth was on you, tongue stroking along your folds and fingers digging into your thighs to hold you at his mercy. You whimpered and whined and moaned. Every gasp and sigh and plea only fueled him more, and when he sank two fingers into your wet heat, your back arched and you cried out his name. You bucked against him, desperate for more – desperate for him. You felt him smile against you, before he swirled his tongue around your clit and twisted his fingers in you to curl them up towards your belly. You clawed at him, torn between pulling him closer for more of that delicious friction or pushing him away to escape the overwhelming sensations. 

“Sam,” you groaned, legs tensing on either side of his shoulders.

“Hmm?” he hummed against you, the vibrations adding to the tension that coiled inside you.

“Please.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled because you were pretty sure that the only words in your vocabulary were ‘Sam’ and ‘please’ anymore. He took pity on you and sucked your clit between his lips, laving it with attention while he pulsed his fingers against that sensitive spot inside you. 

“That’s it, come for me, pretty girl.” You shattered beneath his touch, your orgasm crashing over you. Your legs shook, and the hand you have placed behind you to brace yourself just about buckled as Sam continued his assault, drawing out your climax and setting every nerve alight.

Sam didn’t relent. You whimpered and patted his head with urgency as things moved into ‘too much.’ He soothed you with his tongue, his movements becoming gentler as you came down from your high. He stood, his lips meeting yours in a hurried kiss, and you tasted yourself on his tongue. You moaned into him, and he ground his hips against you, his cock hard and demanding.

“Sam, please,” you begged. “Please fuck me already.”

“Don’t worry. I’m far from done with you, pretty girl.” 

He urged you forward, coaxing you off the table and onto unsteady legs. Mercifully, he helped steady you before prompting you to turn around. He pressed a hand between your shoulder blades and gently nudged you forward until your front was pressed flat against the table. There was the vague clinking sound of his belt and zipper before Sam was crowding you. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of relief. He kept his hand on your back and steadied your hip with the other as he pressed forward, filling you with the entire length of him. 

“Fuck…” you breathed, arms braced on the table in front of you and arching into him. His thrusts were slow and measured at first, giving you time to adjust. Then, he sank fully into you, leaning over you to grab for one of the books that had been scattered across the table. He was so goddamn tall that he reached over you effortlessly.

“I’m gonna make you work for it, pretty girl,” he said, the tone in his voice unlike anything you had heard from Sam before. You barely had a moment to try and figure out what he meant by those words as he cracked open a book and propping it up in front of you. “Read for me, baby. Out loud. Any time you make a mistake, I’m gonna punish you for it.”

You might have laughed if the moment were different. Reading was as easy as breathing for you, and if he thought that this was a challenge, then he didn’t know you as well as you thought. You took a deep breath and read over the first line on the page. And then he moved, and all the wind was knocked out of your sails. On the initial thrust, you managed to keep your composure, but somewhere between three and four, you stumbled over the Latin name for some creature you couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to. His hand met your ass, and you yelped, jolting forward. The hard edge of the table dug into your hips, a stark reminder that Sam had you entirely at his mercy. Trapped between the solid form of him and the cool surface of the library table. And you realized that the Sam behind you was an entirely different side of him you had never experienced before.

Sam chuckled – fucking chuckled – as he soothed his hand over the placed where he had just spanked you.

“Keep going, pretty girl,” he said, amusement in his voice. You could hear him smiling as he spoke. If you didn’t enjoy this, he might have sounded cruel. Thank god you were into this as much as he was. You took another deep breath, doing your best to ignore the stinging. “Don’t worry, we can go slow.” And he kept to his word. The languid way he moved his hips gave off the impression that he could do this for hours if he had the time. You continued reading, faltering again when his hand slid from your ass to your clit. He made a ‘tsk’ing sound before spanking you again, striking the same spot he had before. You squealed under him, excitement coursing through your veins, and he picked up his pace, every thrust making it just a little harder to get through the next sentence.

Your words stumbled and faltered as his movements grew more urgent. Sure enough, when your voice caught on the phrase ‘Ad libitum’ because of course it would on a phrase like that, his hand connected with your skin again. You gasped, pushing yourself up onto your toes in an attempt to meet his thrusts. The pleasure and pain mingled together in a heady mix that would no doubt fry your circuits if you lingered for too long. You whimpered as the cycle continued. You read as best as you could, but your mistakes grew closer and closer as Sam’s thrusts grew harder and faster. It was like being on a tightrope between desire and frustration helpless under his dominance. But you couldn’t think of anywhere else you would rather be. Occasionally, his hand would leave your clit to spank your ass again, both a punishment and incentive to do better next time. Every smack echoed loudly in the room, adding another layer to the symphony of sounds.

He slid out of you, just long enough to hoist you up and sit you back on the edge of the table, the book completely forgotten as he sank back into you. Sam’s breathing became more labored, his movements more urgent as he drove into you deeper and harder. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, realizing that he had been so desperate to have you that he hadn’t wasted extra time stripping.  Your name tumbled from his lips in a low growl, and you wrapped your legs around his hips, meeting his thrust for thrust, desperately needing to feel him closer. Your orgasm was building again, and when his lips found their way to your neck, he bit and sucked a love bruise there. You came shuddering around his cock, and your name left his lips once more in a hoarse cry as he buried himself deep inside you, finding his own release moments after.

The library was quiet again, filled only with the sounds of yours and Sam’s ragged breaths. As you lifted your gaze to meet his, your breaths mingled in the stillness, and you could feel the connection between you settle into something more comfortable. More steadfast. Like the roots of an old tree. He leaned in to kiss you savoring the moment with a gentle intensity before slipping out of you. 

“You are something else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. And just like that, the Sam you had come to cherish reemerged – the sweet and caring gentle giant. His hand cupped your cheek tenderly, and he kissed you once more, a soft and chaste touch that spoke volumes. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up,” he suggested with a warm smile. “I think we’ve spent enough time among the books for now.” And his words were a gentle breeze, guiding you back to reality. The life of a hunter might have been unpredictable and fraught with danger, but, really, it wasn’t something you couldn’t handle together.

---

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[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

[spoontriestowriteandfails]

the youngest winchester » s.w

╰┈➤ comfort from sam after the latest case.

tags : platonic/sibling relationship, not a ship, young sibling reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, not finished

a/n : loosely based on s2e6 but with the reader instead of jo and its siblings instead of a one-off thing, very short :/

word count : 590

this most recent case had been absolutely awful. well, all hunts were awful, but this had been the worst one in a while now.

it had only been a poltergeist, but somehow everything had managed to go wrong as quickly and as easily as possible.

the plan was fairly simple, as always due to dean's expert planning skills; in, raid the house, find out where the body is buried, salt and burn it.

usually, this plan worked out perfectly, which is why it was always their go-to plan for simple hunts such as this one.

however, what the winchesters hadn't accounted for, was that you were the perfect bait for this sort of ghost.

you were still young, "full of life" the poltergeist had worded it, and dean had sort of pissed off the ghost (as dean usually does), which meant that it had all the more reason to snatch you from your brothers and drag you to it's weird creepy people-holding room in the basement of the abandoned house.

you were quiet the entire drive back.

usually, it wasnt odd for the car to be quiet, with everybody exhausted and not having the energy for conversation, but the air was thick with something uncomfortable and tense. something you couldnt help but feel responsible for.

being the youngest in the winchester family wasnt as forgiving as it sounded. from a young age, john had taught you that if something was wrong, it was your fault.

even if it hadnt been you, even if you had nothing to do with it whatsoever, you were always the first to apologise. and for some reason that had stuck even after john's death.

dean had already started turning to park at your bunker but you couldnt take the silence anymore.

"im sorry that i let myself get caught." atlas finally managed to choke out through her mental duress. being alone in the back of the car wasnt as nice as it usually was when she'd done something wrong.

"you what?" came sam's quicky reply, his head practically spinning 180 degrees in the passenger seat to look at you. he reached his hand backward awkwardly for his younger sibling, wanted to provide some sort of comfort.

"you didnt let yourself get caught, you got kidnapped." dean piped in from the driver's seat, pulling the gearshift and yanking on the handbrake of the impala to park.

"i shouldve fought back more," you hummed, taking sam's hand into both of yours and gently tracing patterns into his palm. "shouldve escaped by myself without waiting like a sitting duck for you to come and save me."

sam gave dean a look from the passenger seat and the eldest brother left the car without another word. you and sam had always been closer anyways, but dean was never good at the whole comfort after a hunt thing unless it included arguing.

able to turn fully in his seat now, sam clambered over the centre console and huffed as he dropped down into the usually empty seat beside you in the back.

"jesus, its cramped back here-" he grumbled, having to bend his neck so that his head didnt hit the ceiling. although with the giggle it got from you, sam assumed he was on the right track.

"none of today was your fault, kay?" he murmured, pulling his sibling into his chest and holding you tight. "today went backwards. it was an accident, and it wasnt anybody's fault."

"cmon, lets get out of the car before dean gets grouchy."

w.i.p

[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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