#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

[archiveofvirtue]

CRYSTAL LAKE ⸻ clay miller

content / clay miller x fem!reader, reader replaces the character “Jenna”, stangers to lovers trope, love at first sight (kinda?), mentions of death, blood, kissing, slight gore??, heavily inspired by the original storyline of the movie, 5.4k words

notes / since I’ve rewatched I couldn’t stop thinking about him so I had to write this ! God, pls gimme a big boy like clay.. excuse the length, i literally did the whole plot of the movie lmao 😭

It was late afternoon as you and your friends pulled into a gas station on the edge of Crystal Lake, the excitement for the weekend buzzing in the car. You were heading to Trent’s family lake house, a place he always bragged about for its secluded beauty, though you were really only going along because of your friend, Bree.

As Trent’s constant flirty remarks were more irritating than flattering, mostly it was you brushing them off and rolling your eyes whenever he tried to catch your attention.

While Bree and Trent went into the gas station to grab some snacks, you stretched your legs and wandered over to a nearby notice board filled with missing persons’ flyers. One in particular caught your eye—“Whitney Miller, Missing” was plastered in bold letters over a picture of a woman. Your gaze lingered on it, a strange feeling settling in your chest, she was so young.

As you turned away, you nearly bumped into a guy who looked around your age, wearing a worn leather jacket and carrying a stack of similar missing person flyers. He had the same warm energy radiating off him as the girl in the photo.

“Oh, sorry!” You stammered, stepping back.

“No worries,” he replied, his voice calm but tired, glancing at the poster you’d been looking at. “That’s my sister. Whitney.”

The heaviness in his voice made you pause. “I’m really sorry. How long has she been missing?”

“Six weeks,” Clay replied, trying not to let the emotion crack his voice. “The cops stopped looking. Said she probably just ran off. But I know her. She wouldn’t just leave like that.”

There was a spark of determination in his eyes that struck you. “If you think there’s something more to it, you’re probably right.”

He nodded gratefully. “I’m Clay, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You smiled softly. “I hope you find her.”

Just then, Trent and Bree emerged from the gas station. Trent noticed you talking to Clay and immediately shot him a distrustful look, stepping between you.

“Y/n, come on, we gotta go,” Trent said, casting Clay a dismissive glance.

He didn’t seem phased though, only offering you a polite nod before heading into the gas station himself.

You all loaded back into Trent’s SUV and made your way to the lake house, the mood in the car lighthearted. But you couldn’t shake the thought of Clay and his missing sister, something about his story sticking with you.

The lake house was a massive cabin nestled among towering trees, with the lake just visible beyond the dense brush. The rest of the group settled in quickly, and Trent started showing off the place, clearly trying to impress you, though you were hardly listening. Bree caught your eye and smirked, mouthing, “He’s so into you.” But you just rolled your eyes in response.

The afternoon melted into evening, with the group grilling food and hanging out by the lake. But while everyone else was laughing and relaxing, you found your thoughts drifting to the strange guy you’d met at the gas station.

Just then a knock startled you out of your thoughts, opening the door just to find Clay standing there, holding a stack of missing-person flyers. The look of surprise on his face mirrored yours, though his was tinged with relief. You glanced back over your shoulder and quickly stepped out, letting the door close behind you to shield him from the others.

“Hey, uh, Clay,” you said, still a little taken aback. “You… you made it out here.”

“Yeah, I figured I’d try one more time,” he replied, offering a tentative smile. He held up the flyers. “I’m still looking for my sister.”

Your expression softened as you glanced at the paper in his hand, Whitney’s face staring back at you.

“You two have the same eyes.” You smiled softly, trying to comfort him as much as you could, knowing how exhausting it must be for him to still be searching, still not giving up hope.

“Thanks.” he muttered, feeling the ache in his chest deepen. You were trying to comfort him, and it wasn't much, but it was enough to make him feel a little less alone.

“You should come in,” you said. “At least warm up and grab a drink.”

Clay hesitated, but the invitation was genuine, so he nodded. As you led him inside, Trent looked up from the kitchen, his smile dropping the second he saw who it was.

“What’s he doing here?” Trent asked, folding his arms and eyeing Clay suspiciously.

“Trent, chill,” you said, rolling your eyes. “He’s just handing out flyers for his missing sister.”

“Yeah, and he’s been here all week. Just give it a rest already, man.” Trent’s eyes narrowed, his annoyance almost palpable.

Clay clenched his jaw but kept his voice steady. “I’m just trying to find my sister. And I don’t need some big town jerk telling me what to do.”

You could sense the tension building between them, and before it could escalate further, you stepped in. “Alright, enough. Trent, could you just give us a second?” You took Clay’s arm, gently steering him toward the door.

Trent huffed and threw his hands up, muttering something under his breath. Ignoring him, you led Clay outside, feeling the tension dissipate as soon as you stepped away from the house.

“Sorry about that,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Trent’s… well, a little possessive.”

Clay chuckled, though it was laced with frustration. “I get it. He’s not exactly subtle.”

You shared a small, knowing smile, both of you a little thrown by the strangeness of it all, yet there was something about Clay that put you at ease. And after the way Trent had acted, you felt more determined than ever to help him, if only to spite your obnoxious “friend”.

“Listen,” you said, turning to him, your expression softening. “I’ll help you look for her. I could use a break from Trent anyway.”

Clay blinked, a little taken aback by your offer, his face lighting up with gratitude. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

“No, I want to,” you replied, voice firm. “I could use some air, and it’s the least I can do after the way he acted.“

Clay nodded, clearly thankful for the company, and together you two headed into the woods, following the worn paths and looking for any sign of Whitney.

You dared to ask some questions as you walked, finding out more about the kind of person Whitney was—her interests, her plans for the future, her stubbornness that matched Clay’s in many ways. Clay found himself talking more freely than he had in days, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little.

“She sounds like an incredible person,” you said with a smile. “And you’re an incredible brother for going through all this just to find her.”

Clay shrugged, but you could see a hint of pride in his eyes. “She’s all I have. My mom isn’t around anymore, and I don’t really have anyone else. I can’t just… stop.”

The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows that made the woods feel both beautiful and haunting. You found yourself sneaking glances at Clay, noticing his quiet strength and determination, admiring how he didn’t seem fazed by Trent’s earlier hostility or the weight of his own desperation.

“So… you’re not really into Trent, huh?” Clay asked, a hint of teasing in his tone as he looked over at you, his gaze steady.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Not even close. I mean, he’s… okay, I guess. But he can also be a huge dick.”

“I can see that,” Clay said, grinning as he relaxed a little, clearly happy that you didn’t buy into Trent’s charm.

Clay was guarded, you could tell, but there was a spark in his eyes whenever you exchanged those small, quiet smiles.

After an hour or so of walking, you came across an abandoned campsite littered with empty beer cans and shredded tents. You wrinkled your nose at the sight, feeling a chill creep up your spine.

“This… this place gives me the creeps,” you murmured.

Clay’s expression grew serious, his eyes scanning the area. “This is around where the last person claimed to see her. The police looked here, but they didn’t find anything.”

“Well,” you said, breaking the tension with a small laugh, “if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all the horror movies I’ve watched, it’s that creepy campsites are never a good sign.”

Clay chuckled, though he kept his eyes on the surrounding woods, his laughter fading into a quiet alertness. “Good thing I’ve got someone with horror movie knowledge by my side.”

You quickly moved on, picking your way through the dense trees, occasionally stopping to examine broken branches or overturned rocks. It felt strangely comforting to you, being out there with him, feeling like you had a common goal and something real connecting you, even if it was born out of tragedy.

But as the evening shadows deepened, a sense of unease grew between you. Yoy glanced up, realizing you’d wandered far from the main path.

“Let’s just check out the last cabin and then we’re out of here.” Clay said, voice low.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, good idea.“

You and Clay pushed open the creaky door of the last cabin, your flashlights illuminating the dilapidated interior. The place was more unsettling than any of the others you’d checked. Everything looked like it had been frozen in time decades ago, only to rot and gather dust. Old toys littered the floor, porcelain dolls with cracked faces staring at you from dusty shelves, the air thick and suffocating.

“Who would even stay here?” You whispered, feeling a shiver crawl up your spine.

As you stepped further inside, you felt the wooden floor creak ominously under your weight. You barely had time to gasp before the rotted wood gave way beneath you, and you started to fall, your flashlight slipping from your grasp as you felt yourself plunging into the darkness.

“Y/N!” Clay’s voice was panicked but steady. In an instant, his arms were around you, his grip tight on your waist as he hauled you back up, his strength catching you just before you could hit the ground.

For a moment, everything was still as you clung to him, heart pounding. Your faces were only inches apart, your hands gripping his muscular shoulders as he held you close. You felt the warmth of his breath, saw the tension in his eyes softening into something like longing. His gaze flicked to your lips, and you felt yourself drawn in, the fear and unease momentarily giving way to a connection you didn’t expect.

But just as your lips were about to meet, a strange, metallic scraping noise echoed from outside the cabin. The tension snapped, replaced by a sudden and intense need to get out.

You two shared a look of alarm, all thoughts of your moment forgotten as you turned toward the door, Clay taking your hand and leading you quietly but quickly outside.

That’s when Clay’s flashlight began to flicker, making him curse underneath his breath.

“Let me change the battery real quick.” Clay whispered urgently, tugging you toward the edge of the camp, before kneeling down.

Clay fumbled with his flashlight, frustrated as he tried to swap out the dead batteries. You kept glancing nervously over your shoulder, your nerves on edge after everything you’d seen at the cabin. Just as Clay finally clicked the batteries into place, a rustling sound echoed through the trees, followed by the slow, heavy crunch of footsteps.

Your breath caught, and without thinking, you grabbed Clay’s arm, pulling him behind a massive tree. You pressed yourself close to him, barely daring to breathe as you peeked around the rough bark.

Your heart raced, pounding hard against your ribs as yoy felt the warmth of Clay’s solid frame behind you, his arm protectively wrapped around your fragile body, trying to offer what little comfort he could in the middle of nowhere.

The footsteps grew louder, closer. In the shadows, a hulking figure loomed—a massive man with a blank white mask obscuring his face. He was dragging something behind him, a limp, unmoving shape that glinted in the faint moonlight.

You two watched, frozen, as the figure approached the cabin you’d just left, his slow, deliberate footsteps making the ground seem to tremble. He stopped, his attention shifting as he spotted something lying just outside the cabin door—Clay’s backpack, lying just outside the door.

The manly figure dropped the body he was carrying, and you had to stifle a gasp, clapping your hands over your mouth as you realized it was a corpse, the lifeless face staring blankly toward you. You couldn’t look away, horror and shock pinning you to the spot.

You exhaled shakily, heart pounding as you turned to Clay, your voice barely a whisper. “What do we do?”

Quickly Clay’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, grounding you in the chaos. He glanced around, his face pale but determined, “Run.”

As the stranger bent down to pick up the backpack, you moved, slipping silently through the trees, keeping low to the ground as you put as much distance as you could between yourselves and the terrifying figure.

The moment you were far enough away, Clay didn't hesitate. He pulled you closer and you broke into a full sprint, running through the dark forest, hearts pounding, breaths coming fast and panicked. Branches whipped against your arms, roots threatened to trip you, but you kept going, the sheer adrenaline of survival driving you two forward.

Finally, the lake house loomed ahead. You and Clay bursted through the door, slamming it shut, your breaths coming fast and panicked. Everyone inside looked up, startled by your sudden entrance. Trent’s face twisted with annoyance and confusion as he watched you rush to lock the doors.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded, standing up, his hands on his hips.

“We have to lock everything,” You panted, eyes wide with fear. “There’s someone out there, Trent. He’s… he’s killing people!”

“Wait, what?” Bree’s voice was a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Clay nodded, his jaw set, his expression deadly serious. “We saw him. He’s real, and he’s dangerous. You have to believe us.”

But Trent’s face contorted with anger as he looked from Clay to you, suspicion and jealousy flaring in his eyes. “You two were out there for hours, some ‘Dora The Explorer’ shit, or what?” He laughed bitterly, crossing his arms. “Did you get what you wanted, Clay? Sure looks like you did.”

Clay's jaw clenched. He didn't want to argue now. He just needed everyone to listen.

“Trent, stop it,” you snapped, glaring at him. But Trent’s anger only grew, and he stepped toward Clay, his fists clenched.

“What were you two doing out there?” he demanded. “Is that why you ran off with him? So that he could fuck—“

Before he could finish, you slapped him hard across the face, eyes blazing with fury. “Are you serious, Trent? Do you even hear yourself right now? People are dying out there, and you’re worried about… this?”

Trent’s face reddened with embarrassment and anger, but he backed off, muttering under his breath. Clay took a step closer to you, relieved that you were standing firm, before you turned to the others.

“Look, you guys, this isn’t some prank. We saw him. We saw him carrying a body,” you said, voice wavering with the horror of it. “He’s got a mask, he’s huge, and he’s not going to stop. We need to stay together and keep the doors locked.”

Bree and Trent exchanged a worried look, their faces pale, while Lawrence shook his head, clearly still processing what you were saying.

“Wait, wait,” Lawrence said, holding up his hands. “Where’s Chewie? He went outside a while ago.”

The realization hit all of you at once. Your heart sank as you all glanced toward the dark windows, the unease settling even deeper.

“We can’t just leave him out there,” Lawrence said, grabbing a makeshift weapon from the fireplace. “I’m gonna go look for him.“

“Lawrence, wait!” Clay tried to stop him, his voice desperate. “You can’t go out there alone. He’s… that guy, he’s still out there.”

But Lawrence shook his head, determined. “I can’t just leave him. I’ll be right back.”

With one last determined look, Lawrence stepped out the door, disappearing into the darkness. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence fell over the house.

You all sat in silence, waiting, every second stretching into an eternity. You clenched your hands, barely breathing, mind racing with everything you’d seen. Clay was next to you, feeling the tension radiating off you, so he reached over and took your hand, pulling you into his embrace. You clung to him, grateful for his presence in the midst of the horror.

Minutes ticked by, and then—suddenly—a blood-curdling scream pierced the night, echoing from outside. Everyone shot to their feet, eyes wide with horror.

“Lawrence!” Bree gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

You rushed to the window just as Lawrence came into view, sprinting toward the house, his face a mask of terror. “Open the door!” he screamed. “Help!”

But before he could reach the veranda, an axe flew through the air, embedding itself in his back with a sickening thud. Lawrence staggered, his scream cut short as he crumpled to the ground, just feet from the door.

“No!” You shrieked, hands flying to your mouth as you backed away from the window, your heart pounding. Clay wrapped his arms around you, your body shaking uncontrollably in his grasp, trying to shield you from the horror outside.

“Oh my god,” Bree whispered, her voice barely audible. “He’s right there. He’s… he’s right outside. Where’s the fucking police?”

You all backed away from the window, breaths shallow, fear hanging thick in the air. No one dared move as you heard heavy footsteps approach the house, the sound slow and deliberate, each step like a death knell.

Trent, his face drained of all color, looked around wildly. “We have to do something! We can’t just sit here.”

But Clay held up a hand, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay calm. Everyone shut up.”

As the killer's footsteps circled the house, Clay could feel the dread creeping up on you all. He wasn't sure how much longer you could stay hidden, but for now, he needed to keep you safe.

You could feel yourself trembling as you leaned into Clay’s embrace, his arms wrapped tightly around you. The sense of safety you felt with him was barely enough to keep your fear at bay, but it was something, and right now, that was all you had.

After what felt like hours, the footsteps faded into silence, leaving only the distant, eerie sounds of the forest. The room was quiet, each of you knowing that the danger hadn’t passed—not really.

Without warning, the window shattered, and the killers massive figure loomed in the broken frame. Bree screamed, stumbling backward, her face pale as the masked man climbed inside, his machete gleaming in the dim light.

Bree was frozen, too terrified to move as the figure advanced on her. Your heart sank as you watched your friend, knowing what was coming but powerless to stop it. With a swift, brutal motion, he brought down his machete, and Bree’s scream was cut short.

You choked back your own scream, feeling Clay’s hand grip yours even tighter as you two stumbled back, desperate to escape. He felt his stomach drop, but he couldn't let that fear consume him. Not now. Not when your life was at stake.

Before any of you could move, Trent lunged at the killer, yelling in a mix of fury and terror, swinging a lamp in a desperate attempt to defend himself. The killer, unaffected, grabbed Trent by the collar, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. With horrifying ease, he drove his machete through Trent, pinning him against the wall as the light in Trent’s eyes faded.

“Run, y/n!” Clay shouted, his voice hoarse with urgency. Without another second to think, he pulled your hand, and you dashed toward the back door, your bodies propelled by sheer survival instinct.

The night air hit you like a slap as you sprinted into the darkness of the forest, not daring to look back. Trees blurred past them as you ran, each step fueled by pure adrenaline and the knowledge that the killer was somewhere close behind.

Just as you thought you’d run far enough, an old white house emerged through the dense trees, its silhouette ghostly in the moonlight. Clay pulled you toward it, both of you hoping that it might be a place to hide, to catch your breath.

The interior was dark and filled with dust, every shadow seeming to hide another threat. As you pressed further in, a muffled scream reached your ears, coming from beneath the floor.

“Did you hear that?” You whispered, voice trembling.

Clay’s eyes narrowed, determination replacing some of his fear. “Sounds like it’s coming from down there.”

Both of you moved quietly, scanning the ground until Clay spotted a hatch concealed under an old, moth-eaten rug. With a quick glance in your direction, he pulled it open, revealing a dark, narrow stairway that led into a tunnel system below. Clay went in first, helping you down after him as you ventured into the underground maze.

The tunnels were damp and cold, the flashlights casting shaky beams across the stone walls. You held onto Clay’s hand tightly, the comfort of his touch a lifeline in the claustrophobic darkness. You walked slowly, every creak and drip echoing ominously, heightening your anxiety with each step.

And then, at the end of a narrow passage, you saw her—a frail, neglected figure huddled against the wall, her eyes wide and haunted.

It was Whitney, chained and broken, but alive.

Clay’s breath caught in his throat, his face softening with relief as he ran to her, pulling her into his arms. Tears streamed down his face, and Whitney’s voice was a mixture of shock and joy as she clung to her brother, while he tried undoing the chains around her wrists.

You couldn’t believe it—after all the horror you’d endured, you’d found Whitney. For a brief, fleeting moment, hope filled your heart, a glimmer of something beyond survival. But just as quickly as it came, the hope was shattered by a loud, bone-chilling thud echoing from above.

He had found you.

“We need to go,” you whispered urgently, glancing at Clay, who nodded, his face pale but resolved as he helped up his sister.

With Whitney leaning on him, the three of you moved quickly, retracing your steps through the tunnels as quietly as possible. Every sound felt amplified, every footstep a potential signal to the killer who lurked somewhere nearby.

As you neared the hatch where you had entered, a shadow passed overhead, blocking out the light. Your blood ran cold as you realized the killer was directly above you, his heavy footsteps thudding against the wooden floor. The floorboards creaked ominously, as if he knew exactly where you were.

Clay motioned for you to stay quiet, his finger pressed to his lips as you huddled in the darkness, barely daring to breathe. The tension was suffocating, the air thick with terror as you waited, hoping he would move away.

But instead, the footsteps grew louder.

The floorboards above you suddenly splintered, and with a deafening crash, he broke through the ground, his massive form landing in the tunnel only feet away. His mask was eerily expressionless, but the menace in his stance was unmistakable.

You, Clay and Whitney didn't hesitate—you turned and ran, your footsteps echoing wildly through the narrow stone passage as the killers heavy tread followed close behind.

Panic threatened to overtake you as you turned corner after corner, every step feeling slower than the last, knowing the killer was gaining on you.

Suddenly, Whitney stumbled, her ankle catching on an uneven patch of ground. She fell forward with a cry of pain, her body slamming against the muddy floor. You came to a halt, immediately kneeling beside her. "Come on, Whitney!" You whispered frantically, grabbing her arm and trying to help her up.

But before you could get Whitney back to her feet, a terrifying blur of movement appeared in the dim tunnel just ahead. The killer lunged at you all, his enormous hand reaching out and grabbing Whitney by the leg, yanking her back with terrifying strength.

Your eyes widened, horror freezing your in place as Whitney's terrified face met yours.

"Run, Y/N! Go!" Whitney screamed, her voice raw with fear and desperation. Before you could react, the killers hand shot forward, gripping his machete with brutal intent. With a sickening thrust, he drove the blade through Whitney's chest, silencing her screams in an instant.

"WHITNEY!" Clay's voice shattered with anguish as he watched his sister fall limp in the killers grip, her eyes glazed, her life extinguished. He staggered forward, reaching out instinctively, but you grabbed his arm, pulling him back as he screamed for his sister, devastation in every note of his voice.

"Clay, we have to go!" You shouted, voice shaking but determined. You knew the heartbreak he was feeling, but there was no time to mourn. You had to survive.

Ignoring the horror behind you, you pushed Clay forward, forcing him to leave Whitney behind as you scrambled through the narrow passage, your hearts pounding with fear and grief. You rounded another corner, seeing the faint glow of moonlight from an exit just ahead. You burst out of the tunnels, gasping for breath as you emerged into the cool night air.

Without a word, you sprinted across the open ground, the silhouette of an old barn looming in the distance. It was dark and decrepit, but it was your only hope for shelter. You and Clay ducked inside, slamming the heavy doors shut and barricading them with whatever you could find—rusty tools, loose boards, anything that would hold.

You backed away, breaths coming fast as you listened to the silence outside, hoping desperately that the barn doors would hold. But the peace was short-lived. A loud thud echoed through the barn as the killers brutal strength tested the doors, each blow rattling the walls and shaking the barricade.

As the relentless pounding against the barn doors grew louder, Clay turned to you, his face set with fierce determination. “Y/n,” he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and emotion. He gently cupped your face, his eyes scanning yours as if he were memorizing every detail. “I need you to hide. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your eyes filled with tears, a mixture of fear and sorrow tearing at your heart. You didn’t want to leave him; the thought of Clay facing Jason alone filled you with dread. But before you could protest, he leaned in, pressing a desperate, tender kiss to your lips. You clung to him, your hands on his shoulders, pouring all your unspoken fears into that kiss, a silent promise that this wouldn’t be the end.

“Please, Clay,” you whispered. “Don’t let him take you too.”

Clay’s hand lingered on your cheek as he nodded, his own gaze wavering, he needed to come back to you, whatever it took. “I won’t. I promise.”

Reluctantly, you slipped behind an old row of machines, crouching low as you struggled to keep your sobs silent. You watched through the rusted metal as Clay grabbed an axe, his frame tense and ready to face the monster that had brought so much horror into your lives.

A moment later, the doors burst open with an explosive crash, and the killer stormed inside. His dark figure loomed large in the dusty moonlight filtering through the barn, his machete gleaming in one hand. Clay didn’t hesitate; he charged forward, swinging the axe with fierce determination.

The clash was brutal, each blow echoing through the barn as Clay and the killer fought with raw strength and desperation. He was a towering force, but Clay was quick and strong, his tall frame unyielding as he met his attacks head-on.

The fight felt nearly balanced, each of them refusing to give an inch. But as Clay swung the axe once more, it lodged into the wall, stuck fast. He tried to pull it free, but the killer seized the moment, his powerful arms wrapping around Clay in a crushing headlock.

Clay's heart raced, terror and desperation clawing at him. He couldn't let the killer win—not this way.

He forced Clay toward a wood chipper that sat at the back of the barn, its old blades rusted but still deadly. His gloved hand reached over and flicked the switch, the machine roaring to life, its metallic grinding sound filling the air as it waited hungrily.

Your heart pumped like crazy as you watched, terror squeezing your chest like a vice. You couldn’t sit back and watch Clay be pulled to his death.

You knew you had to act.

Grabbing a nearby iron bar, you crept forward, eyes never leaving the killer. Summoning every ounce of courage, you shouted, “Hey!” Your voice was filled with defiance as you swung the bar with all your strength, smashing it into his masked face just as he turned toward you.

He staggered, his grip on Clay loosening for a brief moment as he reeled from the blow. Clay took the chance, scrambling forward to grab a chain lying on the ground. In one swift motion, he looped it around the killers neck, pulling it tight. You watched, heart hammering in your chest as Clay threw the other end of the chain into the wood chipper.

The machine’s teeth caught the chain, beginning to pull it in, dragging the killer closer and closer to the spinning blades. He struggled, his massive frame jerking violently as he fought against the relentless pull, his boots scraping against the ground.

Both you and Clay watched as the killer was slowly dragged toward his end. But in a last desperate lunge, he managed to twist just enough to shove you backward, sending you sprawling to the ground.

Your head struck a hard surface, and your vision blurred, darkness creeping in around the edges. The last thing you heard was Clay screaming your name, his voice filled with panic and desperation as he ran to your side.

Through your fading vision, you caught a final glimpse of the killer, his body pulled inexorably into the churning blades. With a final, blood-curdling crack, he was gone, disappearing into the maw of the wood chipper.

And as the darkness took you, you felt Clay’s arms wrap around you, his face close to yours, his voice trembling as he whispered your name, pleading for you to hold on.

Soft beeps and the faint hum of hospital machinery pulled you from your forced slumber. Slowly, you opened your eyes, vision hazy as the sterile white ceiling came into focus. It took a moment to remember where you were, but then your hand registered a warmth—a hand holding yours, firm and steady.

Clay was there, his face pale with worry but his eyes intensely focused on you, he’d been watching over you for hours. His grip tightened the moment your fingers moved, and his face flooded with relief, his shoulders sagging as if he’d been holding his breath the whole time.

“Y/n… thank God,” he whispered, his voice breaking. He leaned closer, his other hand coming up to gently brush your hair back. “I was so scared,” he murmured, his voice choked with emotion.

You managed a small, tired smile, your heart swelling as you looked up at him. “Clay…” you whispered, voice barely a breath but filled with warmth. You felt safe, the chaos and terror of the last night drifting away as you held his gaze.

He squeezed your hand again, his thumb rubbing softly over your knuckles, grounding himself to you, reassuring himself you were really there.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty. “And you’re okay. We’re safe now.” His words were soft but full of determination, a promise that you would never face anything like that alone again.

Clay’s smile grew, eyes shining with a mixture of happiness and tears as he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he whispered, his tone soft but fiercely protective.

You let yourself sink into the comfort of his touch, your fingers tightening around his hand. You’d both lost so much, endured so much horror, but right now, with Clay by your side, you knew you’d finally escaped.

You’d made it through. And no matter what the future held, as long as you two were together, you knew you would be okay.

i feel like acting in a slasher movie would be so fun !!

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated.

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @beausling @angelicjackles @starkeysprincess @rafesangelita @sammyluvr @nxptvn @samwinchesterswifu @cherrygirlfriend @chevroletdean

[boykingscourt]

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

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Remember Me Dancing

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

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

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

Word Count: 1,204

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N nodded. “Yeah.” She whispered. 

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

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

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

Y/N smiled. “What's the idea?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We love you, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That's why.” He said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

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

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

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

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

@leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373

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

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

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

The Price of Vengeance

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

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

Word Count: 2.6 K.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Try and stop me.” You challenged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tags: @thisismysecrethappyplace @berruneko09 @simonsbluee @wonderswritings

[lostgirl677]

Home alone

One-shot

Winchester Brothers x Little sister! Reader

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Timeskip

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

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

@hobby27 @deans-spinster-witch

[deans-queen]

Sleep Tight Boys

One Shot

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

Summary: You find Sam and Dean asleep in the Impala

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

Warnings: none

Reader’s POV

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

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

There they were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And for now, that was all that mattered.

Authors Note:

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

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[mishaesque]

Scenic Supernatural 2.02 Everybody Loves a Clown

[pinkiebieberpie]

sam's instagram account

supernatural masterlist

[adriellej]

Masterlist

Supernatural:

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles

Sam Winchester/Jared Padalecki

Castiel (Novak)/Misha Collins

Extra characters of SPN

SPN no parings

Personalized fics

Flash:

Harrison "Harry" Wells/E!2

[trektraveler]

My Hero

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

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

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Garth, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, fluff

One Shot

Word Count: 3700

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

     Bang.  Bang.  Bang.

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

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

     “Hey, its Garth, right?”

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

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

     “I am.  What’s going on?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “Hey… it’s my hero.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “What?”

     “Today’s Wednesday.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “Y/N?  Wake up, Y/N!” 

     This time no amount of effort would bring you around. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Your eyes popped open.  An I.V.?

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

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

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

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

     Fuck.  Where the hell are my clothes?!

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

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

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

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

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

     “Sam?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Now you were really confused, “Construction?”

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

     “What?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “You call, I’ll come running.”

Two Years Later:

     “That was not our first date!”

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

     “I was unconscious!”

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

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

    “Dating experts?”

     “Your brother.”

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

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

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

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

     “Hands down.”

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

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

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

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

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

     “Really?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “Sam.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “Y/N… baby…”

     “Yes?” Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

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

     “Will you marry me?”

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

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

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

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

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

     “Second favorite?”

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

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

[yunggoblin]

Sam Winchester - Masterlist

💦 = Smut, 💖= Fluff, 🌩 = Angst

Innocent, Yet Dirty -💦

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

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

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

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

[slut-for-evans-stan]

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

One will be a Cevans character x reader fluff.

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

Any ideas, requests or help is highly appreciated!

You can comment here or personally message me.

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

Sending love to anyone reading this ^_^

[spnfanficpond]

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

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

[sylvanaiello]

Une ff cross-over entre la série « Big Sky » et « Walker » ? 🤠 HELL YEAH !

Venez jeter un coup d’œil 🫶🏻