#jensen comfort fic

[happy74827]

Forced to Listen

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Dean hated it when you hunted him down for advice, and he also hated that you knew exactly how to bait him into listening.

WC: 1082

Category: Fluff, Ranter!Reader, Mentions of Cheating, Sam being absolutely useless (iconic).

Can you believe that it’s been TWO WHOLE YEARS since I last wrote of him?? I’m so angry at myself 😭😭

『••✎••』

Dean could sense what was coming when he watched you stomp towards him with nothing but a small bottle of beer. The look on your face was one he had come to recognize over the years.

It was the one that said that you were about to coerce him into listening to your woes, and he had no other choice but to do it. The heat outside was unbearable, the kind that made Dean strip off his flannel and ditch the leather jacket, leaving him in his sweat-covered shirt.

But as he stood under the hood of the Impala, trying to get her to start, that bottle of beer was calling his name. The promise of the cool, carbonated drink sliding down his throat, relieving him from the dryness that had settled in his mouth, was something he desperately craved. And you knew that. That's why you were headed straight for him.

"Hey, Dean," you said innocently, the small bottle of beer dangling from your hand.

Dean sighed, his gloved hands pausing as he glanced up at you. He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to you whine about what was going on in your life, but that bottle of beer was too tempting to pass up. It was his favorite brand, too.

Goddamn it, you really were a temptress.

"Two minutes,” he grunted out, holding his hand out for the beer. "I'll give you two minutes."

You grinned, placing the bottle of beer in his open hand. In a matter of seconds, half the liquid was gone, and you were waiting impatiently for him to give you the sign to begin.

After another second, a sigh of content slipped from his mouth, and he nodded, signaling you to start.

You didn’t waste any time. "Do you think I'm a bitch?"

"I think you're a pain in my ass," Dean retorted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It didn’t make much difference since his hand was already covered in dirt and grease, but it made him feel a little better. "Don’t tell me you came over here just to ask me that?"

"No, I'm serious, Dean," you insisted. "Do you actually think I'm a bitch?"

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

So, he just raised his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on while he took another sip of his beer.

"Dating's hard, Dean," you started, and he already felt a groan coming on. He did not want to have this conversation. "I just don't get it. Why am I not good enough for them? Why do I keep getting cheated on?"

You were pacing around the car as you spoke, and Dean kept his eyes on the beer. As you went on about everything that was bothering you, the more he regretted his decision to drink that damn thing.

"Am I not attractive? Am I not smart enough? What is it, Dean?" You looked at him, hoping for an answer. But when you realized he wasn't paying that much attention to what you were saying, you let out a scoff. "Great, so I'm not even good enough for you to listen to me? God, Dean, you are such a douche."

Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked up at you, the annoyance clearly visible. "Can I get back to fixing up my baby, now?"

"Would you date me?" You asked, suddenly, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Am I worth dating?"

God, you were killing him. He’d rather get heatstroke than continue this conversation, and he was sure Sammy would agree on his behalf.

He could actually see his baby brother from where he stood. He was a few yards away, sitting in the shade. A book in his hand, but his eyes were on the two of you.

Was he…? Oh hell no.

He was laughing.

Sammy was having a good time watching him squirm under your gaze, doing absolutely nothing despite avoiding the work Bobby needed help with.

Oh, was Dean pissed off. He’d get his payback soon, hopefully. It would be whenever he actually gets away from you and fixes up his car. Baby always comes first.

"I mean, c'mon, Dean," you pressed on. "Just give me some advice. You were with so many women, and they were all beautiful and perfect, so what's wrong with me?"

You were pouting, and Dean felt like throwing his beer bottle on the ground and stomping on it. This was the worst two minutes of his life.

"There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally said, looking you in the eye. "You could be a pain in the ass, but unfortunately, I’m apparently the only one who has to deal with it, so... yeah. You're fine."

"Fine? I'm fine?"

"Yup," Dean replied. He turned back to the Impala, taking the last swig of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into your hands. "Thanks for the beer. Is that all?”

"I just feel… I don't know. I feel like I'm not good enough, ya know?" You said a sad look on your face. "Like there's something wrong with me. Something that's making everyone leave me."

"Listen," Dean started. He looked at you again, but all of his annoyance was gone. The two minutes were definitely up; he could quite literally kick you out of sight, but with the look you had on your face, he just couldn’t do it.

So, despite Sam’s utter lack of help, he was going to do his best to try to make you feel better.

"It's not you, alright?" He assured. "There's nothing wrong with you. If a guy can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you, okay? Trust me, you will have no problem finding someone else."

The corners of your lips twitched, turning into a small smile. "Yeah?"

Dean nodded, giving you a smirk. "If you want, I could always give out the ole hunter's special with your past one. Bobby could use a new rug for his living room."

A loud snort slipped past your mouth, and Dean was satisfied.

"Okay, Winchester," you said. "This is my sign to get the hell out of here."

And so you did, but before you could get even slightly close to the house, he called out to you.

"Oh, and by the way," he said, a small smile forming on his face. If you thought it was going to be wholesome, then you were sorely mistaken.

"Next time you come to me to talk about your feelings, at least have a damn pie."

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Preparing for Battle

Summary: It's that time of the month, but Jensen's ready to battle with you.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Reader (You)

Warnings: None. Fluff. Jensen comfort. Implied smut.

Word Count: 616

A/N: So, I got this sort of request from a dear, sweet anon who I always love to see in my inbox. But she's ailing a bit because being a woman sucks sometimes. So, I wrote something that I hope will comfort and cheer her. ❤️ I wrote it pretty quick so it could get out to her, so sorry for all the likely mistakes.

A/N 2: Also, of course, as always this is a Jensen from within the multiverse who is single. This is a complete and utter work of fiction.

“Hey.” Jensen’s voice was soft and questioning as he came into your bedroom to see you sitting up in bed and crying.

He sat on the side of the bed, facing you, and noticed you were looking at your phone. He used his knuckle to brush a tear from your cheek. 

“Baby what’s wrong?”

He tried to see what was on your phone, so you showed it to him and he pressed play on the video you’d been watching. After viewing it for a minute he shook his head and looked at you. 

“Period started?” He asked. 

You nodded. “This morning.” You said with a sniffle. 

Jensen shut off your phone and hid it under your pillow. “Sweetheart, you know better than to watch ‘soldiers coming home to their dogs’ videos when you’re on your period. They make you cry at the best of times.”

You brushed your tears away. “It’s just proof, you know, of how pure their little puppy souls are.” The tears started again in earnest and Jensen reached over to grab you a tissue.

As you blew your nose, he kissed your forehead. “Okay, well I’m off work for the next few days, so be prepared for pampering.”

You shook your head. “Jensen, you don’t have to do that. You’re home to relax after working for two weeks straight, I don’t want you to-”

He cut you off and jumped up from the bed. “Nope, too late.I’ll be back in under twenty minutes.”

And like a flash he was gone, leaving you slightly flummoxed. 

True to his word he was back fifteen minutes later, hauling four overloaded bags into the bedroom. His smile was broad and happy. He began plucking things out of the bags and tossing them onto the bed.

“Okay, I got…chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.”

Every brand of chocolate bar, some with nuts, some with caramel, some with nougat, landed unceremoniously on top of the blanket.

He continued, pulling out a heating pad. He lifted it up. “A new one of these bad boys because the ancient one you inherited from your mom is bound to burn the house down one of these days.” He dropped it and dug into the next bag.

“Chips! Etcetera.” He said, pulling out a ridiculous amount of salty snacks, including pretzels and popcorn. He brought out a six pack of ginger ale. “For the nausea. Ooh!” 

He raised his finger and then dug in another bag, taking out two boxes of Midol. “But also this, for all the other shit that comes along with mean Aunt Flo.”

You giggled. “Aunt Flo?” 

He grinned and shrugged. “That’s what the women in my family called it.”

He finished emptying the bags, adding gummy bears and worms, chamomile tea, trashy magazines and 2 quarts of ice cream to the pile surrounding you. 

Then from the inside pocket of his jacket he pulled out a little paper bag, and inside were two small bottles of massage oil. He held them up and gave them a little shake. 

“Also, apparently massage is supposed to be very helpful.”

He brought them over and set them on the table beside the bed. He slipped out of his jacket, tossing it over the chair in the corner, and you sighed, admiring the way his black t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, and pulled tight across his biceps.

Sitting down on the side of the bed again, he leaned forward and kissed you slowly. You let out a small whimper and Jensen moaned lightly and pulled back, letting his forehead rest against yours and speaking roughly.

“Apparently orgasms also work really well on cramps.” 

You laughed breathlessly. “Well, put away the ice cream and let's find out.”

Tags under the cut.

@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

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @libby99hb @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373

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

@stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @nancymcl

[theaudacitytowrite]

I just called to say...

Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: I think this fic shows my current state of mind quite well... so I think you guys get why I'm not able to write the fluffy fics that were supposed to be written months ago. I hope you can enjoy this one at least

Warnings: blood, injuries, character death (it's spn, duh!), hurt with no comfort

word count: 2.124

Dean groaned when he was shaken out of his slumber as his phone vibrated somewhere next to him. He tapped around his nightstand annoyed as he tried to find the pesky device and turn it off. Whoever called could wait for him to get up in the morning. He peeked onto the display, blinking against the harsh display light as he was about to decline the call when he saw your face lighting up the screen.

You had walked over Dean’s path earlier that day. You were out on a hunt with a fellow hunter and the three of you caught up over lunch. Dean had needed a motel to stay over for a night since he was on the drive back to the bunker after a successful hunt further down south so you showed him the motel you were staying at before parting ways again.

Dean wondered why you'd call at this time and sighed deeply, answering the phone.

“It’s 3 in the morning. What is it Y/N?” he asked groggily. His voice sounded hoarse, rough, and tired but his demeanour quickly changed to worry when he heard your laboured breaths that you forced yourself to take.

“D-Dean...” your voice was only above a whisper as you replied shakily. But there was also relief. Relief that Dean had picked up. You had worried that he wouldn’t hear his phone since it took him a few rings before he had answered. When he answered with his hoarse voice and his usual sassy remark, you had to smile softly, your eyes closing as a tear ran down your cheek “...I ...I fucked up.” you wheezed strained.  

Suddenly all his usual snarkiness was nowhere to be heard; he was in his serious, caring, concerned mode now.

“What do you mean?" Dean asked confused, “Where are you?”

Your breaths were ragged, and Dean could tell that you were holding back tears and wails of pain.  

“...Randy and I-I,” you stammered, swallowing hard as you tried to hold yourself together, “We were... we went out to the woods.” you coughed and it sounded like you were choking, “It was an ambush.” you managed to press out, “Randy's... he didn't make it and as it looks like... I won't make it either.” you breathed out.

In an instant Dean had jumped out of bed, starting to dress himself hurriedly.

“I’ll come and get you.” Dean responded curtly, almost hanging up.

“No! Wait.” you croaked, “Don’t… don’t hang up. I... I don't wanna die alone.” 

“You’re not dying, Y/N!” Dean harshly responded but cooled down immediately as he took a deep breath. “Okay.” his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again, “I’ll stay on the phone with you but you’re not going to die. And you gotta tell me where you are.” Dean tried to stay calm for your sake as he hurried out to Baby. 

“Somewhere in the woods... maybe ten minutes from the motel.” you breathed heavily.

“I’m coming to you, Y/N. Hold on.” Dean uttered collected.

“Dean...” you sobbed, “...can you do something for me?”

“...yeah. What do you need?” Dean tried to keep his emotions at bay. He didn’t like the sound of your voice. It was getting quieter with each time you spoke. He didn’t waste another second and drove off towards the woods you and Randy had told about him earlier. 

“Tell Bobby...” you hiccupped, “Tell Bobby he was right. I'm an idiot.” you chuckled somberly. “And... tell Sam and Cas that I'm sorry... and I love all three of them.” you sniffled. 

“You can tell them this yourself.” Dean insisted. He felt his emotions start to build up as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

“Please.” you breathed shakily. ”Just promise me.”

Dean’s words were no longer above a whisper as he croaked. “I'll tell them.”

“Thank you... *you huffed heavily, trying to keep your breath steady as you lay on the cold forest ground, the knife in your chest hurting so damn much with every breath you took.

“Do you... do you remember that Summer in 1995?” you suddenly whispered into the phone.

“...Yeah?” Dean hummed as memories flooded his brain. He had no idea of where this was going but he was still curious and waiting for your next words.

“How we went to the beach that one night and sat eating smores till sunrise?” you chuckled, tears running down your cheeks. “We watched the stars...” you trail off. 

“...Yeah, I do remember that night.” Dean wasn't saying much because he didn't want to interrupt you, so he was mostly quietly listening and waiting for more. He wanted to keep you talking so he knew that you were still with him.

“I knew it then.” you sobbed cryptically, the rigid movement hurting you even more. “But I never said anything...” you gulp, “But I have to say something before... before I go…”

Dean swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat and was struggling to keep his voice steady when he spoke. “And what is that?”

 “I love you, Dean.” you breathed through the speaker, “I always have.” you sniffled, “And I'm sorry for telling you this now... but you know me. I always had bad timing.” you chuckle bitterly.

Dean swallowed hard as your words sank in. A flood of emotions filled his head like a wave from the ocean crashing to the shore. He was so speechless that he could barely respond “...yeah, y-you always had bad timing.” He finally answered though it was really just to have something to say.

You chuckled sadly and closed your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your breath became shallower with every breath and your voice started to fade out as you slowly began to slip in and out of conscience.

“D-Don't you dare leave me...” Dean uttered huskily. He grew more panicked with each passing second. He was scared and desperate. “D-Don't leave me...” He repeated, his voice growing more strained with each word. 

“Ok.” you sobbed weakly, knowing you couldn't do anything against it no matter how hard you tried. You felt your energy draining more and more as you began to shiver. 

“...where are you, Dean?” you asked almost inaudible when Dean’s line grew silent. You needed to hear his voice just for a moment longer. 

“I... I'm here...” Dean whispered back. His voice was shaky, unsteady, and heavy with pain as tears continued to stream down his cheeks. “You... you're not alone. Okay?” he repeated his earlier words almost in a begging tone.

“Thank you...” you whispered, slowly losing strength to hold up your phone to your ear. 

“You're welcome...” There was a long pause after that, and Dean was trying to stay calm for you but you could still hear him struggling to hold back more tears. “Hold on... Okay?” you could hear his voice break with another sob. 

“I... I don’t think I can that long anymore...” you croaked when you suddenly heard the faint sound of an engine and some lights started to creep up the hill. Dean perked up as he heard the noise of Baby reverb from your side of the line and his eyes widened. He suddenly sounded incredibly desperate, and his voice was pleading. “Come on, come on... Come on, come on. Please...” he was still speaking softly so as not to alarm you, but he was trying to be encouraging, hoping you'd hold on long enough to see him.

“Dean?” you asked almost elated, “Is... is that you?” you sobbed, “Or am I hallucinating?” 

“No, you're not hallucinating.” Dean's voice was surer and clearer when he spoke again, though the heavy emotion in his voice was still clearly present. “It's me, it's me. You're gonna be okay.” his voice was still quiet so as not to startle you, but a little louder than before.

You started sobbing audibly, a mix of hope, longing and desperation mixing as you heard Baby approach. It took an eternity until you heard her come to a halt and the doors opened and closed. You heard hurried steps rustling through the leaves and Dean’s voice calling out for you in the distance and over your phone.

“H-here...” you croaked as loud as you could, but it was still only a whisper.

Dean heard you and your words filled him with a rush of emotions. The tears still streamed down his cheeks as he ran around the trees following the sound of your voice. He got closer and closer until he reached you, kneeling by your side as he looked down at you. 

“Y/N.... Y/N...” the flood of feelings almost made his words unintelligible.

Dean saw the state you were in and it frightened him. Your skin was pale and dull, your lips chapped and your eyes half-lidded. You were covered in bruises and cuts, blood everywhere. You were cold to the touch aside from the bloody patch where a hunter knife stuck in your abdomen. 

“Dean...” you breathed out, barely able to focus your eyes on him but his touch was so familiar and soothing.

“Y/N...” Dean took your hand and squeezed it firmly, “Y/N...” he repeated, and his voice grew stronger and louder. “...don't go... please...” you could sense the desperation in his words, as well as the pain and anguish that was breaking out as Dean was desperately trying not to cry.

“I'm... I'm trying...” you huffed heavily, fighting against your eyes closing. “How did you find me?” you croaked out weakly. 

Dean swallowed a few times as the words struggled to come out of his mouth. “It... it doesn't matter... don't matter.” There was a long pause before he spoke again “Just...” another long pause and his tears kept falling, “...just hold on... okay?” He sniffled as he tried to come up with a plan of how to get you out of here and into the ER.

“Dean...” you weakly squeezed his hand, trying to get his attention back to you. 

“Y-yes?” he quivered, pulling your hand up to his cheek.

“It’s going to be alright,” you whispered almost inaudible. 

Dean felt his emotions break as he felt your soft hand on his cheek. A lump grew in his throat yet again as he fought back tears. There was another long pause before he spoke again. 

“It won’t... will it?” he whispered strained, his voice breaking slightly with the last word. You smiled bleakly, knowing he was right. 

“I love you...” you simply responded, your eyes starting to flutter.

You could hear his voice getting even more filled with distress as he couldn't hold the tears back anymore. “I... I love you, too...” he continued, not wanting to waste the last few moments you had before leaving this world. “I love you, Y/N... too...” he whispered as he squeezed your hand again, softly kissing the back of your hand. He hoped that you could still hear him and feel his love as your eyes had closed. For a moment a soft smile appeared on your lips before your face relaxed.

Dean felt a deep sense of guilt when he saw your relaxed expression. The tears still fell as he was struggling to hold your hand steady. “Don't go...” he repeated over and over again. He fell apart when your hand squeezed his faintly once more. He leaned over your body, softly pressing a kiss against your forehead. He could taste the dried blood mix with his tears.

Dean took in your last squeeze and he stayed next to you, his hand still holding yours for a while after he felt there was no more movement in your hand. He was still crying, too devastated to say anything else.

As he started to pull himself together, his voice had become hoarse. It was weak and barely above a whisper. “...Y/N...” Another long pause spread as he took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. “...Y/N, you ain't ever gonna believe this.”

He took a moment to gather himself again. He took in a shaky breath and continued, hoping that the last of your consciousness could hear his words in the afterlife at least. “...Y/N, I always knew that you were an idiot,” he said with the barest touch of humour as he smiled through his tears. He took a moment and then spoke again. “...but... you've always been my idiot.” His breath grew shaky again and his eyes were filled with more tears, but the smile was still there as he spoke. Another tear fell from his eyes as he forced himself to chuckle through his sadness as he sat there with you until the sun began to rise.

Sooo... what do y'all say? Hope it wasn't too bad for a first Dean Fic.

Taglist: @hellowgoodbye @tommie-gvf @loz-3

Divider by @talesmaniac89

You can also read it on my [AO3]

[fallenangelblade]

the thing about midam is that it only strengthens my conviction that we should have gotten to see dean as cas’ vessel at LEAST once

[gummydummy19]

I recently hit 1K (thank you guys again, I love you all xoxo) and I had no idea how to celebrate...

Today I finally got an idea :)) I'm making a little rec list of some of my favorite fics I've read on here over the years, to share them with you guys <3

Please remember that liking and REBLOGGING (!!!!!) is super duper important!

Tight Spaces by @peyton-warren

Into The Storm by @peyton-warren

A Dash of Cinnamon by @peyton-warren

Sanctuary of Hope by @peyton-warren

Pride by @thornsnvultures

Trouble Maker by @thanksbutno98

Beautiful Destinations by @thelastsock

A Flower in The Desert (series) by @ashbrat488

A/N: feel free to tag your favourite writers or send me fic recs babes 🫶🏻💕✨

taglist:

@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

tbh. kinda obsessed w bryce treating jensen like a princess

[foxgloveprincess]

Pillow Fort and Pizza

Word Count: 410

Warnings: Barely Any Editing, Mildly Suggestive Themes, So Much Fluff (you might barf). Minors do not interact (18+).

Divider by @firefly-graphics.

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work, at all. I cross-post to my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess). Seeing this anywhere else means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age. Thank you.

“Don’t come in here yet!” he yelps through the door, voice panicky even though you immediately released the doorknob from your grip.

“Alright,” you reply, startled. You take two giant steps back and try not to fumble the pizza and soda, no matter how precarious they are in your grip.

Your toe taps as you wait, confused as to what’s taking so long. “Jake?” you call through the door, “the pizza’s gonna get cold and soda’s gonna get warm. You almost ready for me?”

The only response you get is a booming thump.

The door’s open before you even have a chance to think, standing and gaping at the structure before you.

“Aw, angel, you ruined the surprise,” he whines, tangled in a pile of blankets on the floor.

But you’re too busy trying not to devolve into hysterical laughter. You nearly fumble the pizza again, but he’s already popped up and holding onto it for you.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you breathe, unable to look away from giant blanket and pillow fort, strung with lights, boxes of board games tucked off to the side, with the laptop hooked up right there and ready for the most epic of Netflix dates. It’s magnificent. You nearly start to tear up.

But he deflates as soon as the words leave your lips. “You don’t like it?”

You blink, grab the soda and pizza from his hands, and set them aside. Carefully and far away from the entrance to the fort. Jake stands confused as you do, furrowing his brows in question. His lips part on some thought, but you don’t get to hear it. Instead, you’re too busy tackling him into the cushions and planting effusive kisses across every little sliver of skin you can find. All while he’s grinning like an idiot and laughing himself silly.

“I love it, I love it,” you repeat before placing one last searing kiss to his lips and whispering, “I love you.”

“Ditto,” he replies with a dazed and sappy glaze over his features.

You snort and sit up, pulling his stolen shirt down over your tummy. He follows after you, finding comfort in the pillow of your chest and snuggling close. Mouse in hand, he clicks through titles on Netflix until he settles on the show you’ve been binging. The title credits roll, you wrap him in your arms, and settle in for what the day holds. Heart full, happy and whole.

[randomperson99sworld]

Ruffled Feathers 🪶

~ Part 51 ~

Summary: Julia Morgan, Bobby's niece, has always been a royal thorn in Dean Winchesters ass since the day they met 1 year ago at Bobby's memorial. She wants to be a hunter, he thinks she's a dumb kid playing dress up. Will she always be seen as an unwanted load in Dean's eyes or will he see something more?

Warnings: Age gap, language, sexual themes (used lightly), physics abuse (Not from Dean).

Word Count: 2,443

A/N: Julia is back finally! And I finally gave her a small moment with Cas. Did we miss her? I know I sure did. I hope you guys are enjoying the story cause it’s coming close to an end. I do have a couple BONUS chapters in store for you guys too :). Stated as always, this story is cross posted on Wattpad. Happy reading! ♥️

Julia Morgan awoke in suffocating darkness, her lungs burning as she gasped for air. Panic hit her instantly, her hands desperately clawing at the wooden coffin surrounding her. She screamed, her voice hoarse and raw, calling out for anyone—someone—to help her. Her nails scratched at the wood above her, but it wouldn't budge.

Sweat dripped down her face as her chest tightened, and her breathing quickened. No. She couldn't be back here. She couldn't still be dead. She could feel her pulse racing in her throat, could feel the dirt pressing against the coffin from all sides.

In the pitch-black darkness, her adrenaline surged. Her body acted on instinct, pure survival kicking in. Her fingers scratched against the wood, nails splintering as she clawed at the inside of the coffin. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain, every muscle in her body straining as she fought to break free.

Finally, a crack formed. She pushed harder, her arms trembling from the effort. Another crack. The coffin began to give, dirt pouring in as she tore through the fragile wood. Gasping for air and fueled by pure fear, she clawed her way upward, pulling herself through the cold earth with every ounce of strength she had left.

Her hands broke through the surface first. She pulled herself up and out of the shallow grave, her body trembling from exertion. Collapsing onto the ground, she lay there for a moment, gasping, staring up at the starry sky above her.

Somehow, she was alive.

But the confusion was just beginning. Julia sat up slowly, dirt clinging to her skin and clothes, her body aching from the effort. She tried to make sense of it all—the last thing she remembered was dying. The demon had stabbed her, and now... now she was back.

A deep chill ran through her as she realized how alone she was. No phone, no way to call for help. She was miles from anywhere she recognized, her mind clouded with the trauma of what had just happened. Her heart raced again, but she fought back the panic.

"Cas," she whispered, her voice shaky. "Castiel, please. I need you."

She closed her eyes, willing herself to focus, hoping her prayer would reach him.

A few minutes passed in silence. The cold night air bit at her skin, and for a moment, she feared he couldn't hear her. But then she felt it—the faint sense of his presence, far away but moving toward her.

Meanwhile, Castiel was in an old, beat-up car, miles away. His wings were broken, leaving him grounded, unable to reach her instantly as he once could. But he had felt her prayer. He knew where she was and was already driving as fast as the car would allow, the engine growling with the strain.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He couldn't let her suffer, not after everything. Julia had been through too much already.

Luckily, he wasn't far. Within minutes, he pulled into the cemetery where Julia had clawed her way out. The headlights illuminated her figure sitting in the dirt, disoriented and shaking, her face a mix of fear and confusion.

Castiel quickly got out of the car and rushed to her side.

"Julia," he called out, his voice calm but filled with concern.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Cas..." she whispered, her voice raw from screaming, "What the hell happened to me?"

Castiel knelt beside her, gently helping her to her feet. "You've been brought back," he explained, his gaze steady on hers. "Your father... brought you back."

Julia blinked, her mind struggling to process the words. "My father?" she repeated, disbelief creeping into her tone. "No, that can't be right. My father... he wouldn't—"

"He made a deal," Castiel interrupted gently. "He sacrificed his soul to bring you back."

Julia stared at him in shock, her heart pounding in her chest. Anger flared up inside her, mixing with disbelief. "That idiot," she muttered through clenched teeth. Tears stung at her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. "He—he was never there for me, Cas. Never. And now he decides to throw away his life for me?"

Castiel's gaze softened. "He did what he thought was right. Perhaps in his own way, he was trying to make amends."

Julia let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Amends? He's damned himself for eternity. How the hell does that make anything better?"

She looked at the grave where she just was moments ago, dirt still clinging to her clothes, and let out a long, shaky breath. Her father had traded his soul for hers, and now he was gone—trapped in Hell.

And now, she was back in the world of the living... for what?

"Now what?" she whispered, more to herself than to Castiel, as the weight of the situation pressed down on her.

Castiel watched her in silence for a moment, then spoke, his voice low but resolute. "Now, you decide how to live with what's been given to you. But you're not alone in this, Julia. You have friends. You have Dean and Sam. And you have me."

Julia swallowed, looking up at the angel, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Yeah, thanks", she said softly, but her heart felt heavy, burdened by the knowledge of her father's sacrifice.

Castiel gave a small nod. "I'll take you to Dean," he said. "He needs to know you're okay."

Julia's heart clenched at the thought of Dean. He must have been devastated when she died. She didn't want to imagine the pain he went through. Nodding in agreement, she followed Castiel to his car.

Castiel helped Julia into the car , his eyes filled with concern as he shut the door. As he climbed into the driver's seat, the engine roared to life, and they began the drive back to the bunker. The road stretched out ahead, quiet and empty. Julia's thoughts were anything but that.

Her father had given up his soul for her. After everything, after years of neglect and abuse, he had traded his life to bring her back. It didn't make sense. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the car window, watching the blur of trees pass by but feeling detached, like the world outside didn't belong to her anymore.

As they approached the bunker, Castiel pulled into the driveway, and the familiar sight of home loomed before them. Julia felt a sudden wave of anxiety. She hadn't seen Dean since before she died. What would he think when he saw her?

Castiel parked and turned to Julia, offering her a steady look. "I'll be with you when you tell him. You're not alone."

Julia nodded, taking a deep breath as they both got out of the car. As they walked toward the entrance, her stomach churned with nerves, each step heavier than the last.

Once they descended the stairs, Castiel took a step ahead of her and walked into the war room, where Dean sat nursing a beer, looking utterly exhausted.

"Dean," Castiel began, his tone calm as always, "I've brought a friend."

Dean didn't even look up, rubbing his temple with a sigh. "Cas, I'm really not in the mood for company right now. Whatever you—"

"Not even mine?" Julia's voice cut through the room like a jolt of electricity.

Dean froze, his eyes widening. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly looked up. There, standing at the top of the stairs, was Julia—covered in dirt, looking disheveled but very much alive. She took a few steps down, her gaze soft as she locked eyes with him.

"Julia?" Dean whispered, disbelief laced through his voice. He stood up, his beer forgotten as he took a hesitant step toward her.

"It's really me," she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips, though her voice trembled slightly with the weight of everything that had just happened.

Dean stared at her, not quite sure if he was seeing a ghost or a miracle. Castiel, sensing his confusion, stepped forward. "I heard her prayer," Castiel explained, his eyes meeting Dean's. "She's back, Dean. Because of her father—he sacrificed his soul."

Dean's head spun. The words didn't fully register; he was too focused on the fact that Julia was standing in front of him, alive. Without another word, Dean crossed the room in two long strides and pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly as if he never intended to let her go again. The feel of her, warm and solid against him, erased any lingering doubt. She was really here.

Julia buried her face in his chest, her own emotions finally breaking free as she clung to him. For a moment, neither of them said anything. They just held on, the weight of everything they'd been through together crashing over them like a wave.

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

Julia shook her head gently against his chest. "There's nothing to apologize for, Dean. I'm here. I'm okay."

Just then, Sam entered the room, hearing the commotion. "What's going on?" Sam asked, his eyes landing on Julia. For a moment, he stood frozen in shock, before his face broke into a wide smile. "Julia? Holy crap, you're—"

"It’s really her, her father made a deal." Castiel confirmed.

Sam wasted no time and immediately went over to hug Julia, his relief evident as he pulled her into a tight embrace. "You scared the hell out of us," Sam said, pulling back with a grin. "But it's so good to see you."

Dean took a step back, his eyes roaming over Julia, taking in the cuts and bruises on her arms, the dirt covering her clothes, and the exhaustion on her face. She looked like she'd been through hell—and in a way, she had.

"You're wiped," Dean said gently, his voice soft as he placed a hand on her back. "Let's get you home. You need some rest."

Julia nodded, feeling the weight of her own exhaustion creeping up on her now that the adrenaline had worn off. Dean guided her out of the bunker, his arm firmly around her waist, holding her close. He didn't want to take his eyes off her, not for a second.

The drive back to their home was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine. Dean kept glancing over at Julia, taking in her blank stare as she gazed out the window, lost in thought. His heart ached for her, seeing the exhaustion and shock etched into her features. He wasn't sure what to say—how to comfort her after everything she had just been through.

When they finally pulled into the driveway, Dean parked the car and got out, walking around to open her door. Julia slowly stepped out, her movements sluggish. As they entered the house, she looked around, taking in everything as if she was seeing it for the first time since she had returned.

"Thanks for taking care of the place," Julia murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dean gave her a small smile, but worry lingered in his eyes. "Yeah... no problem," he replied. He hesitated for a moment, watching her closely. Then, he gently touched her arm. "Let's get you cleaned up, hmm? I'll run you a hot bath, and you can relax a bit."

Julia nodded wordlessly, letting Dean lead her down the hall toward the bathroom. As he turned on the faucet and filled the tub with warm water, adding bubbles to the mix, he tried to shake off the heaviness that hung between them. It was hard—seeing her like this, so fragile and distant.

Once the tub was ready, Dean found her some clean clothes, a baggy Scooby-Doo T-shirt of his she loved and a pair of plaid pajama shorts. He laid them on the counter before turning back to her. "Come on, let's get you out of those dirty clothes," he said gently, helping her undress. She didn't protest, simply letting him take care of her.

Dean guided her into the tub, the warm water surrounding her body. He knelt beside the tub and began gently washing the dirt from her skin. The silence was thick, but neither of them seemed to mind. Dean's hands were careful as they moved over her bruised knuckles, his heart clenching as he saw the marks of her struggle. He cleaned her hands slowly, his thumb brushing over the cuts and bruises with tenderness.

The steam from the bath swirled around them, but Dean's mind was elsewhere. His thoughts kept replaying that night—the vision, the demon, and the moment he thought he had lost her forever. He couldn't let go of the fear gnawing at him.

As he continued to clean her, Dean finally spoke, his voice soft. "I'm sorry, Julia. For everything that happened... I should've warned you sooner. I should've—"

Julia cut him off, her voice quiet but firm. "Dean, stop. It's not your fault."

Dean paused, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes. She seemed distant, still processing everything, but there was a flicker of warmth in her gaze. "You did everything you could," she added, her voice wavering slightly. "I'm here now."

Dean swallowed hard, his throat tightening. "But your father—"

"I know," she said, her eyes falling. "But he made his choice. It was his decision, not yours. And I'm... I'm grateful to be back. It's just... it's a lot to take in."

Dean nodded, his hand moving to cup her cheek gently. "Yeah, I get that."

After a moment, he helped her out of the tub and into the clothes he had picked out. As they made their way to the bedroom, Julia leaned into him, exhaustion weighing down her steps. Dean guided her to the bed, pulling back the covers before helping her lie down.

He sat beside her, brushing her damp hair away from her face. "Get some rest, okay? I'll be right here."

Julia nodded, her eyes already half-closed as she curled up under the blankets. Dean stayed there for a while, just watching her, making sure she was okay before he quietly turned off the light.

As he stood at the door, he glanced back at her one last time. Julia was safe. She was here, and that was all that mattered.

But in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the thought that things would never quite be the same again.

[royalwriteroftheuniverse]

Jake Jensen and #Dodger story requested by @nana1000night

Basically fluff small mention of losing a family member in the military and Jake being a shy sweetie.

Comments and reblogs appreciated no reposts or publishing anywhere

You see the cutest couple at the park: A tall man and his dog an orange/tah body and little white paws almost like socks and his owner tall and handsome. Sure he had some outdated blonde tips but he's a man hats he know about style plus he looked handsom. Who are you to tell a tall handsome muscularman what to do with his hair. Oh what the hell most he can do is say no.

"Hi can I pet your dog?" You almost wanted to hit yourself in the face you sound like a child. Oh well whats done is done.

"My dog?" He fiddles with his glasses

"Your dog." Ok maybe you should just leave He's clearly nuts or dense

"My," he glues slightly "dog?" How dense is this man? Maybe the steroids he used to get those very gorgeous amazing biceps warped his brain. Wait am I staring don't stare. You point to the dog wagging his tail

"Your pup......py" you say slowly trying to guage if he's an harmless idiot or insane.

"Right my dog its not actually my dog. It's I mean right now it is because I mean I have it with me right now but its actually- it's my neice's I offered to watch him while they went on vacation." he laughs nervously looking around. It was like he was suddenly burst into reality. The blush on his face was cute. You could tell he wasn't used to women talking to him.

"Awww that's sweet. You say that to every girl at the dog park?" You kneel down to pet the dog, he's obviously too frazzled to say yes or no.

"It does sound like a line doesn't it" as he plays with his glasses, "But no here look"

He kneels and proudly shows pictures of his neice playing on her soccer team.

"Aww she's cute."

His dog tags made a noise as they hit eachother. The ball and chain necklace was barley sticking out of his shirt.

"What branch?"

"Hmm?"

"The military what branch."

"Special opss."

"Not exactly an answer but thank you for your service."

Jake blushes at the attention.

"I can't really talk about-"

"Its ok I get it my brother was in the marines"

She pulled a necklace out with a marine class ring

"Was...." Jake said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks."

"I know it doesn't mean much but."

"It does from people like you. I think you get it more. You still in."

"You're never out."

She nodded and bits her lip.

"Whats his name?"

"Dodger."

"Like the baseball team?"

"The musical-"

"Oliver," she smiles.

"It's my neices favorite."

"You're really close with them aren't you."

"Yea they're all I have so."

"No its sweet. Most men don't care your girlfriend's a lucky girl." You're hoping the blush on your face isn't too visible.

"Not yet. Well I don't have one right now that is. If you were uh wondering."

"No I always ask handsome men who are using dogs as their wingman who don't have wedding rings on. If they have girlfriends It's a tick. Do I get to know your name at least?"

"Jake. As in,' he pauses "Jake."

Jake laughs nervously, he's not used to women being so forward with him.

He's thinking about how to move forward when he sees a tear slip down your face.

He whipes it off with his thumb.

"I'm sorry If I " his face was turning red. He chastised himself for crossing a line but he couldn't help himself

"Jake don't appologize it was sweet its not you It's just It's just me." You mentally slapped yourself for that stupid line once upon a time you could flirt properly .

Dodger as if sensing you're trying to calm yourself crawls on you and gives you a hug.

"Aww. Thank you." You wrap your arms around the sweet dog.

"I think Dodger likes you." Jake softly smirked

"Do you think I can see Dodger again tomorrow or later today? "You looked mostly at Dodger suddenly becoming shy again.

"Well him and me come as a pair." Jake chuckles softly waiting for the 'oh forget it then to come out of her mouth.'

"I know why do you think I asked?" You smiled you at him.

Taglist

@sapphire-rogers @hawkeyes-queen @patzammit @sparklybarbarianninja

[bisexual-winchester]

I'd pay so much money to watch Misha and Jensen do this 😭.

Please someone convince them to read one shots for Random Acts.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Errand of Mercy

Summary: Y/N is miserable from head to toe. Can the boys coddle her back to good health?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Nothing really. All fluff.

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

Word Count: 1,467

A/N: I got a request from the dear @kayyay1219

...my request is another J2 x teen!reader where the reader doesn’t show up one day for work and Jensen and Jared are worried and they go to her apartment and see that she’s really sick. So they take care of her because she has a high fever and they try everything to get her fever down, like an ice bath or something. They call her cute nicknames are just being so sweet.

I said I could do it but it might be a while. Then the poor thing sent me this message this evening:

Hey I know you said it will take a while to get to my request, but I had a bad day and got diagnosed with Covid and really need a J2xteen!reader. It doesn’t have to have the reader diagnosed with Covid just J2 taking care of the reader, getting her fever down and calling her sweet nicknames. Thank you!❤️

So, needless to say, I got my butt in gear to try and give her some Jensen and Jared comfort. I hope this helps sweetie! Feel better soon! 😘

A/N 2: As always, this story is about a Jensen and Jared from a different part of the multiverse and doesn't reflect anything to do with their real life. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. 😊

Y/N wandered through her apartment door, exhausted beyond belief. Her body ached, she was sweaty and hot while also shivering. She was bundled up in a scarf and jacket even though the sun shone brightly and the breeze was light and warm. Her whole body ached from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. 

Even her hair ached.

The day had been miserable from the first minute she'd been forced to crawl out of bed and go to work. She'd had every intention of staying tucked up in bed and had called in to say she couldn’t make it. But her boss had insisted. They were already short staffed, and they couldn't manage without her. At least that had been the gaslighting, guilt trip her boss had gone with. 

And since technically she was an adult now, she figured forcing herself into work when she felt like death, just came with the territory. Though the way she saw it, if the word "teen" was still part of her age she shouldn’t have to be a grown up yet.

But she'd gone in. However, she was pretty sure the only thing she'd accomplished during her four hours at work was making all of her coworkers sick and spreading her plague throughout the population like she was Typhoid Mary. Between her coughing and shivering, she'd been useless and eventually her boss had very reluctantly sent her home. 

So now she was back in her tiny apartment and ready to go pass out. She knew she should make herself eat something, and probably have a shower just to wash the ick away. But she just didn't have the energy.

As she stumbled her way to the bedroom, there was a knock at her door. She moaned pathetically and slowly hauled herself back there. She didn't bother to look and see who it was; maybe it would be someone there to shoot her and put her out of her misery.

But it was so much better.

Standing on the other side of the door were her two favorite people in the world. Her adopted big brothers, Jensen and Jared. Her aunt had worked in the props department for Supernatural from the very first season, and Y/N used to visit her there all the time. 

She grew up hanging around the boys, who treated her like a little sister from day one, and that hadn’t changed just because the show ended. They teased and tormented her from time to time, sure, but they were also fiercely protective, the way big brothers should be. 

When Y/N's boyfriend had broken up with her a week and before prom, she was heartbroken and had planned on just staying home. But Jared and Jensen wouldn't hear of it. Instead they arranged a limo for her and three of her closest friends and escorted the whole group of them to the dance. 

While she and her friends had danced the night away, having an amazing time, the boys stood on the sidelines with most of the other adults all night, acting as incredible celebrity chaperones. Needless to say, Y/N was a big hit.

So, considering their track record for being there when she desperately needed them to be, it wasn't that surprising to see them standing outside her door with a bag full of snacks, delicious chicken soup from her favorite restaurant, and a bag full of medicine.

God, they’re amazing, she thought, as relief coursed through her. 

Despite her protests that she was going to make them sick, they tramped into her tiny apartment, looking too big for the space as usual. Within minutes they had her out of her jacket and scarf and were pushing her into the bathroom.

Jared pulled a small Eucalyptus plant out of one of the bags and hung it in the shower, turning the taps on super hot, so that steam was rolling through the bathroom. 

"Climb in, kiddo. And stay in there for at least 20 minutes. Sit down on the shower floor if you need to." He told her as a billow of steam followed him out the door.

She did what he said and twenty minutes later she was feeling a little better. Her chest didn't feel as constricted and heavy and her nose was a little less plugged. Plus the continuous, intense heat finally got rid of her inside chill.

When she went into her bedroom she saw that one of the boys had laid her comfiest, and fluffiest pair of pajamas on her bed and she pulled them on gratefully.

She went out to the living room and immediately sighed when she saw what they’d done. The glaring overhead light was off and her soft lamps and just a few candles lit up the room. They had peppermint tea sitting on the coffee table for her and a bevy of snacks were lined up beside it. They jumped to their feet as soon as she came in, and ushered her over to the couch. 

Jensen pulled her down beside him, tucking her under his arm. He kissed the top of her head while Jared laid out the assortment of medicines they'd brought. She described all her symptoms and he picked out the ones he thought would work best and handed them out to her like her own private nurse. A very giant, very hairy, incredibly sweet, private nurse.

After she was medicated, Jensen picked up her remote and clicked on the tv before passing it to her.

“You get to pick, sweetheart.” He held up a finger. “But just remember that you love us and we’re here on an errand of mercy. So…maybe we can forgo Bridgerton?”

Y/N chuckled. “How about a space opera?” 

Jensen raised a questioning eyebrow, but Jared clapped his hands together “Yes, bring on Luke, Leia and Han!”

So they slipped into a galaxy far, far away and Y/N watched for a while before falling into an exhausted doze. She roused a few times, coughing a little, but quickly fell back to sleep when her subconscious reminded her she was cozy and safe.

When the boys were halfway through The Empire Strikes Back, Y/N woke up for real. The boys paused the movie and brought her some of the warmed up chicken soup and another cup of peppermint tea. She sipped at the warm, steamy liquids and listened to the boys arguing over the best movie of the original trilogy. Jensen said Return of the Jedi, Jared said Empire Strikes Back, and she told them they were both wrong, and nothing beat the original. The debate was on.

But as they agreed to disagree and get back to the movie, she set down her tea and began to feel the shivery achy feeling return. Jensen noticed and pulled her up against him again, covering her with the fleecy blanket from the back of her couch.

Jared put his big hand on her forehead and frowned. “You’re really warm again.” 

He pulled out the thermometer and put it under her tongue. When he checked it, his frown deepened. “A hundred and two. Shit.”

He gave her two Tylenols and then got a pile of cloths and a basin of cool water. He put a wet cloth on each of her wrists and then handed one to Jensen, taking yet another to begin bathing the bottom of her feet. Jensen had her lay her head in his lap and then slowly ran the cloth across her forehead and cheeks, as well as along the back of her neck. 

For nearly a half an hour they continued, just soothingly running the cloths across her feverish skin and murmuring words of comfort. As the fever fell and her shaking stopped, she found herself dozing once again.

She woke as Jensen was carrying her to her bedroom. She opened her eyes and he smiled down at her.

“It’s okay, baby. We’re just gonna tuck you in. Your fever is under control now, but we’re gonna crash on the couch and keep checking on you through the night.”

Y/N just nodded as she saw Jared pulling back her covers. Jensen laid her down gently and smoothed back her hair from her forehead, before kissing her there. He held up her phone and then tucked it under her pillow. 

“You text us immediately if you need anything and we’ll be here in a jiffy to get it for you, okay?”

Jared bent to kiss her forehead too and then scrunched up his nose. “Unless you gotta pee, in which case, there’s really nothing we can do to help.”

She laughed softly at his silliness. 

“Thank you both, so much” She said as she yawned wide enough to swallow her own head.

The boys blew her a kiss and waved from her bedroom doorway. 

“Just get better.” They said in unison.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

@waywardcheshire

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[gummydummy19]

WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN?!?!?! I need a comfort Jensen 😭

Intrusion in the Dark

Characters: Jake Jensen, Reader (no descriptions) Pairings: JJ x Reader Fandoms: The Losers (2010), Chris Evans Characters Word count: 3560 Type: fluffy and angsty flavord smut Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. P in V, Bad day for Reader, Gun makes an appearance Language and smut with fluff and angst thrown in.   Summary:You had a bad day. Jensen comes to your rescue. Smut and fluff follows. Author’s Note: Is a new fandom for me so please forgive any errors. Also is unbetaed so all errors are my own. I still struggle with verb tenses, hopefully I caught them all. Ask Box: Open Masterlist

Keep reading

[shadeysprings]

So Good. So Bad.

—Stalker!Ex-Boyfriend!Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Summary — The Halloween party you and your friends attend turns upside down all because of your jealous ex.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, toxic relationship, mass murd3r, k!lling spree, somewhat public sex, cuckolding of some sort, almost drugging, Lloyd being toxic and psychotic. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 7.2K

A/N — I know I said Sunday but my muse said no. Story #2 for my FREAKtober Fest and my second time exploring Lloyd as a character. The writing process was tedious yet exciting. The title and inspiration of this fic was taken from the song ILYSB.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

Aside from having the same shift as your best friends, restocking is the only thing you like about your work. Although it’s physical, it’s mostly mindless tasks done repeatedly, and the black shirt you wear acts like a shield from annoying customers who pester the ones in blue.

Your shift starts like clockwork; time in, grab the products from the warehouse, and begin stocking the shelves until you have to clock out. Though today was a bit more taxing than you expected with the cable aisle once more in disarray and you being tasked to reorganize and set everything in its proper place. You don’t understand the need to put in so much effort into something that will just end up messy at the end of the day.

But you do it anyway. 

Upon arriving at the aisle, you begin sorting out the boxes and dismantling the hooks from the shelves. You’re happy enough to be doing this alone—the quicker you work, the faster you’ll be able to relax and waste the time away. That is, until Kate stands beside you, seemingly tensed as she starts helping you. 

“He’s here again. TV aisle.” You don’t need for her to say anything more to know who she’s referring to and it just makes you sigh as you grab a box of an HDMI cable and hang it on the hook. “Jensen’s trying to help him but he’s being pushy about talking to you. How does he always know when you’re here? Didn’t you already change shifts?” She asks.

How you wish you knew the answer to that. “I did.” You say in exasperation. “Did he say I was on break?”

“You know we can’t lie. Besides, we have no idea if he already saw you before he came in. He could have seen you while you were on your smoke break.” She expounds and you feel a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Just—talk to him. Tell him to leave. If he tries anything, we’ll call the cops.”

“Yeah. Like they’ll do anything about it. Vince wouldn’t even allow that—bad publicity and all.” The sigh that once more leaves your lips is despondent. You don’t know what else you can do to make him leave you alone. “Fine. I’ll deal with him.” The box in your hand ends up being crumpled from annoyance.

“We’ll be keeping watch.” She says, a measly attempt to comfort you. But you take it anyway with a smile and push away from your cart to hopefully turn away the pesky client.

It’s been almost two years since you broke up with Lloyd. The sweet air that he once had turned bitter when you saw just how jealous of a person he was. You thought it was cute at first, comforting him after a fit and telling him that he was the only man in your life—until it wasn’t and he threatened your friend, John, even challenging him to a fight at the back of the club when he placed his arm on your shoulder as he introduced you to his girlfriend. 

Since then, he changed and the relationship you thought was almost perfect, snowballed into endless fights and the revelation of the toxicity he kept hidden. You thought you could make him realize that there was truly nothing to worry about, that his jealousy was misplaced. But you were very wrong, especially after he demanded you quit your job and move in with him instead. You’d make a really good housewife, was what he said and you knew you had to draw the line.  

It wasn’t the life you wanted. And it pained you to leave because you did love him but with the way he acted, you questioned if he truly felt the same for you for even the simplest of things, he failed to trust you. And ever since, he hasn’t stopped following you. Everywhere you went, at work or home, he was there, simply watching, observing and you’ve done all you can to push him away. But no matter how hard you try, he can’t take the word no.

The first thing you notice when you see him is the twitch of his mustache when he smirks. He looks pristine as ever with his yellow polo shirt and white slacks that match his black loafers—a complete mismatch to your black shirt, jeans and sneakers uniform. And it has you thinking, what the hell did he see in you?

“The new models just came in yesterday,” You hear Jensen tell him but it’s obvious that Lloyd is not listening, certain that he’s staring at you even with his blue eyes covered by sunglasses. “I can show them—”

“Ah, just the girl I was looking for.” He says, cutting off Jensen and stepping past him to head over to you. 

“Sir, she’s one of our warehouse staff. I’d be happy to assist you in—”

“Beat it, nerd!” Lloyd snaps as he stops to face Jensen, rolling your eyes at his misplaced annoyance. “She’s the one I want to talk to.”

“It’s okay, Jen. I got this.” You tell your co-worker, gesturing for him to leave.

“You sure? I can stay if you need any he—”

“Are you fucking deaf?! She said she’s got it, loser!” Lloyd turns from where he stands and you’re suddenly alarmed to see him charge over at Jensen. “Beat it or I’ll make you.” He threatens and you immediately wedge yourself between both men when you see Jensen isn’t backing down.

You place your hands against Lloyd’s chest, stopping him from getting any closer. “Lloyd, stop it! Not here—Christ!” Your voice raises an octave when you scold him, facing Jensen right after and unintentionally glaring at him. “Just go, Jake! I said I got this!” It surprises you that you sound quite like Lloyd but it doesn’t deter you from pushing Lloyd back further.

You hear Jensen speak but don’t understand him as you grab Lloyd by the hand and pull him over to the other aisle, heat rising up your neck when you notice several of the shoppers looking in your direction. There’s never any peace with Lloyd—everywhere he goes, chaos follows.

Once you’ve pulled him away from prying eyes, you startle when he stops walking and tugs on your hand, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist as he holds you close. He gives you a sickeningly sweet grin, effectively trapping your hand against his chest.

“What the fuck do you want, Lloyd? Why are you here?” You bite.

“I’m looking for a TV.” He says smoothly, “Besides, I missed my little Kitten and I know that kitty of yours misses me too.”

You want to roll your eyes at his crass comment. “You know I work in the damn warehouse. I know nothing about them.” You reason, grunting as you try to get away from his hold. “We have a sales specialist who can help you with that.”

“Oh, but I want you to show me the options.” The hair on his lip twitches when he smirks, “Or I can complain to your manager that his employees aren’t helpful to their customers.”

“Seriously? You’re going to act like a fucking Karen?”

“Would you like to see me try?” He challenges.

That’s the last thing you needed from him and you don’t question that he would stay true to his word and make sure his complaint reached top management. Letting out a sigh, you nod at his request and show your best customer service smile before saying, “How can I help you?”

Your shift finally ends and you can’t wait to go home to wash off the day. After Lloyd pestered you with all the TV selections you showed him, he left with nothing and you tried your best not to show your annoyance at him though he knows he’s riled you up—he always does. 

Bidding your goodbyes to Kate and the rest as you leave the store with Jensen in tow. He offered a ride to the station—something he always does and one you couldn’t refuse after the long day. You just want to go home and curl up in your room and hope that Lloyd doesn’t show himself again after that awful stint. 

“Tough day, huh?” Jensen asks as he brings the engine to life and drives off from the parking lot. 

“Yeah. I’m just glad it’s over.” You respond, leaning back against your seat while you hug your backpack against your chest.

“Yeah.” He echoes, hearing his fingers tap against the wheel. “The line at the tech depot was pretty long too. Seems like every computer within town is falling apart.” He jokes, and you think it’s an attempt to lighten the mood. You still feel tense with the altercation he had with Lloyd—you just wish for once one of them would listen to you. 

“Hey, sorry about earlier.” He says and you visibly cringe when he mentions it. “I know you could handle him but knowing that he’s bothering you, I couldn’t just step away from—”

“Look. Jensen.” You sigh as you turn to face him. “I appreciate your concern, really, I do. But no offense, it’s none of your business. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me each time that idiot shows up. The others stay away because of how reckless he can be and I just don’t want you to get caught in the line of fire. Just let me handle him.”

You know full well why Jensen couldn’t get past that. After admitting to you his feelings since he found out you were single, he’s been subtly dropping hints about asking you out. You’d probably have taken up the offer if you met him before Lloyd but the trauma your ex has imprinted on you just leaves you thinking that any man who would dare go near would be the same. 

Silence fills the small space, along with a flicker of tension. You think Jensen would disapprove of your words, that he would insist on giving his unwarranted help. But all you hear is a sigh and you see the nod of his head. 

“Okay.” He utters, the rubber covering the steering wheel squeaking when his hold on it tightens. “I won’t meddle any—”

“JENSEN!” You shout and grab onto the handle of your seat when a car suddenly turns and blocks your path, Jensen stepping hard onto the brakes. 

“What the fuck?!” He shouts as he rolls down his window but you, on the other hand, sit still when you see Conrad, one of Lloyd’s buddies, step out of the car and walk over to Jensen’s side. “What the hell is wrong with you, bro?!” Jensen growls as he unlocks his door, ready to step out.

But you’re too late to warn him—Conrad pulling open the door and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, trapping him against the side of his car. Lloyd then suddenly appears, with Chris in tow. He goes first to Jensen, the latter flinching when he raises his fist at him, threatening to lay a punch before leaning down and framing his arms over the edge of the window.

Your eyes dart to Jensen when he grunts against Conrad’s grip, glaring at Lloyd when he stares you down. “What the fuck are you doing here, Lloyd?!”

His eyes meet yours, darkness swirling around the blue and you can already tell that he’s angry. “What are you doing here, Kitten?” He says, a cocky grin on his face. “You couldn’t wait for me to pick you up so you got into this loser’s car?” He tuts, chin nodding over to your side and your door suddenly opens, Chris, pulling you out aggressively. 

You look around, hoping to call for help but you curse Jensen when you notice he went through the back roads. No one ever passes here, especially at this hour, and now the both of you are at the mercy of your ex who you see looming over your co-worker. 

You gasp when Lloyd sends him a punch, trying to pull away from Chris’ grasp to help Jensen, but it’s no use. You’re rendered helpless as you watch him send another blow, making the other bowl over to which Conrad pushes him further to the ground.

“Stay away from my girl, asshole!” Lloyd threatens before spitting at the other man, your eyes grow wide when Lloyd takes you from Chris and drags you to his car. 

You hear the sound of tires being slashed and several glass breaking along with Jensen’s pained grunts. You knew Lloyd could be reckless but you’ve never seen him this way before. He opens the passenger door and pushes you in, slamming the door harshly before getting inside himself. He doesn’t wait for his companions before driving off, your hand grabbing the side of the door with the speed he’s going. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shout. “Let me out of here!”

“You keep testing me, Kitten. Running off with other men like that.” He growls and you scream when he takes a sharp left, cars honking left and right at how careless he’s driving. 

“Are you that daft?! We’re over, Lloyd! We’ve been for years!” You shout amidst the panic that rolls through your veins, eventually getting the courage to hit him on the shoulder when he gets on the main road. 

But you soon realize your mistake when he stops at an alley and his hand immediately wraps around your neck, pulling you towards him. You grab on his wrist when he squeezes tight, your eyes wide as you fear that he would choke you, kill you on the spot. 

“Lloyd—” you gasp, slapping on his hand as tears fall from your eyes. “Y—you’re hurting me.”

“I will only say this once, Kitten, so you better listen.” His hot breath spreads across your cheek when he pulls you closer, the tick on his jaw setting you on edge. “You’re mine and no one, not even you, can change that fact. Got it?”

All you can do is nod, to agree with every word he says if it means you get to keep your life. 

“Good.” He huffs, the anger in him somewhat seeping away, loosening his hold around your neck. “Good girl.” The praise that used to send shivers of desire within you now has your stomach twisting in disgust. “And if I see that weirdo or any other man going near you again, you know what will happen.”

You nod once more and gasp when he completely releases you, leaning against your seat as you try to regulate your breathing.

He drives once more and you’re thankful he’s slower this time, doing your best to stay calm as you look out the window. “Where are you taking me?” You ask, although you already have an inkling of his answer when you recognize the area you’re in and the direction he’s driving to. You haven’t driven in and out of these roads for almost two years. After you and Lloyd broke up.

The smirk he gives you is enough of an answer.

“Are we going to pre-game before the party?” Bucky asks as he plops down onto the couch in the employee lounge, shaking a tumbler of his protein shake in his hand. “Last year’s booze ran out so fast, I went home seeing straight. I don’t want to be sober on Halloween night.”

“You never want to be sober, Barnes,” Kate comments as she rolls her eyes, yet her interest seems to already be piqued. “But he’s right. Are we going to drink before the party or should we just hit the club after? I have a friend who can get us in at this club for free.”

“That could work but I’d rather enjoy the night drunk then get wasted at the club.” Bucky responds, taking a sip of his drink. “We could just meet up at someone’s place and pre-game there, then we can all go to the party together. Would save us gas too if we just take one car.”

“Who even lives near the venue?” 

You tune yourself out from their conversation and stab your fork into your lunch as the Halloween party is the last of your concerns. Besides, you don’t think Lloyd would be happy with you attending and you wouldn’t dare give him the opportunity to ruin the event for you and your friends or give him any reason to be mad again. 

Your friends exchange ideas, listing down people’s names of who they’ll be inviting for their plan of drinks and whose place they’ll be crashing when the door of the lounge opens and you freeze in your seat when Bucky calls out Jensen’s name.

“Hey buddy! You live downtown, right?” Bucky asks, patting the space beside him to which Jensen accepts. “We were thinking that—the fuck happened to your face?”

Your grip on your fork tightens when you chance a peek at both men, feeling your stomach drop when you see the bruise staining Jensen’s cheek. 

“Oh that?” Jensen chuckles, his fingers running against the side of his face. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I slammed against my door frame.” You know he’s lying, though you’re somewhat thankful he didn’t expose what Lloyd and his friends did. Still, you feel the guilt nipping at the back of your neck. 

“You’re such a klutz, Jake.” Kate says with a laugh. 

Jensen makes a face in her direction and you look away when his eyes meet yours. “Why were you guys asking if I lived downtown?” He suddenly asks, shifting the topic. 

Bucky takes the lead again. “We were thinking of doing drinks before heading to the party. And since you live closer to the venue, maybe we could just meet at your place?”

“Depends. Do I have to provide the booze?”

“We can bring some and you prepare some.” Kate responds. “Sounds good?”

Jensen hums audibly as he thinks of his decision. You feel the tension circling around you as you sense his eyes on you while he speaks. You don’t dare to look up, keeping your focus trained on the lifeless pasta in your lunch container.

“I’m in. Though who’s coming? My apartment isn’t that big so I can’t really hold a huge crowd.” He finally says.

“I’m there.” Bucky says, mouth full of his protein shake. “Tell me what you guys want and I’ll bring it.”

“Me too. Though I’m bringing my boyfriend along—that cool with you guys?” No one seems to object and you look up to face your best friend when she nudges you. “You’re coming too, right? Amber’s dragging Nick along and we won’t be complete without you. I even planned this super cool costume for us.”

You feel your body shake at her question. The pressure of going to the event with your best friends growing in your chest, colliding with the added stress of meeting at Jensen’s place and the fear of Lloyd finding out about the plan. 

“I don’t know.” You say with a frown, closing up your container as your appetite has already turned sour from the anxiety crawling up your spine. “You know I don’t do well at parties. I’ll just stink up the mood.”

“Aww come on. Please?” She begs with those puppy eyes she always uses to convince you. “You’ll be with us and if it gets too much, we’ll leave. And if you’re worried about that psycho ex of yours showing up, I can just show Andy in his direction and he’ll show him a thing or two.” You want to latch onto the assurance she gives you but she doesn’t know Lloyd like you do. 

Still, you could probably think of a way to convince him—he’s never been apprehensive of you spending time with your friends. Except it’s not only them who would be with you; Bucky and Jensen would be there as well, and you’ve already witnessed what he’s done to the latter, the evidence staring you in the face. 

And that would mean you would have to lie. Though is it really lying if you’re just omitting out the information he doesn’t want to hear?

But the plan didn’t go as expected. 

Instead of heading over to the company party after drinks at Jensen’s apartment, like what was discussed, you find yourself nursing a red cup full of shitty alcohol in a dimly lit house while surrounded by your friend group and people you only assume to be Bucky’s college frat buddies. 

You tug on the skirt of your black dress that’s a little too short for your liking, the cat headband already irritating you with how long you’ve been wearing it. You don’t know why you’ve agreed to Kate’s idea for the three of you to imitate the costume from that movie—you’re just glad she didn’t push you to wear a bodysuit and that Amber was happy to trade with the mouse theme you were originally assigned to do. 

Speaking of your best friends, you walk around the living room as you try to look for them, no longer wanting to be alone amidst the foreign crowd. But you frown when you see Kate at the corner of the room, her boyfriend’s hand planted firmly on her ass while they make out. Amber, on the other hand, was just on the other side, with Nick barricading her against the wall like some prison guard. Though with the smile you see on her face, she doesn’t seem to mind being isolated by him.

Your eyes then dart towards the front door when the cheers of men grow louder than the music blasting in the house. Three people walk in, each one wearing a mask over some effortless casual clothes underneath. But the one wearing the iconic ghostface catches your attention, noticing him looking your way with the other two standing behind him following suit. There’s a somewhat eerie familiarity to their masked gaze that makes you look away and leave from where you stand.

“Not really what you’re expecting, huh?” You startle when someone says too close against your ear, making you look up and chuckle when you see Jensen smiling at you, an opened beer bottle in his hand. 

“It feels like I’m back in college attending a frat party.” You comment, making the both of you laugh and tapping your cup against his bottle when he raises it to you.

“You went to a lot of parties in college?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Wasn’t really a party type.”

“Same. But I had no choice with my roommate dragging me to every party.”

You have no idea why Jensen is speaking to you—after what he endured with Lloyd and his buddies, you’d think he’d steer clear of you, probably even fear you thinking that history would repeat itself. But deep down, you’re happy to be in his company, choosing it over being alone in a place you don’t even know half the people in. 

The both of you chat for a while, finding a less crowded spot in the kitchen and helping yourselves with the food and the drinks that are out and free for the taking. You still feel bad when the bruise on his cheek remains prominent, though with his purple button up and baggy gray slacks, you think it blends well with his cosplay of Bruce Banner when you asked him who he was supposed to be. 

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Jen.” You tell him with a frown, leaning against the edge of the counter as you look down at your drink. “I didn’t think Lloyd would actually hurt anyone.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a bruise.” He assures, giving your arm a pat.

“What about your car? Didn’t they trash it?”

“They did. But good thing I have insurance.”

It surprises you how positive the air around him still is despite the misfortune he’s met because of you. You almost envy his happiness, and the happiness that your friends have and you find it almost unfair that Lloyd wasn’t like Andy and Nick, doting and loving towards their girls, when both those men are his friends. You wish he’d learn a thing or two from them about handling relationships the proper way. 

Sadness then swirls around you as you contemplate on what your life has become; always scared and cautious, that Lloyd would hurt another because of his jealousy, because of his unspoken obsession to completely possess you.

Your train of thought stops when you feel your cup being taken from your grasp, Jensen replacing it with a fresh one, fizz floating to the top of the amber liquid. “Jack and Coke.” He says. “Your drink looked a little stale.”

But before you could even take a sip, you hear spine tingling screams coming from the living room. You think it’s some scary prank someone has pulled on another, you and Jensen looking at each other and pushing away from your perch to investigate the commotion. But in just a flash of a second, the whole house is in chaos, people running, scrambling for their lives while the three masked men you saw earlier run amok, shooting and stabbing the party goers one by one and leaving them bloody and dead on the ground. 

No sound escapes your lips as you’re gripped by fear upon witnessing the bloodbath, your body refusing to move even when your brain tells it to. But the hand that grabs onto your arm has you shouting in shock, only to be muffled by another and your eyes wide with horror thinking that they’ve got you. But to your relief, it’s only Jensen and he places a finger against his lips, telling you to be quiet before pulling you amongst the havoc for a way out. 

You try the backdoor first but for some unknown reason it wouldn’t budge open no matter how hard he yanks it. He tries the window above the kitchen sink as well but just like the door, it’s screwed shut. He pulls on you once more, leading you down the hall this time, the rave music playing loudly in your ears pumping the adrenaline in your veins while the sound of the screams die out one by one. 

He makes it to the end of the hall, the staircase free from the killers but with bodies lying lifeless on the steps—a woman with her throat cut wide open and a man with a bullet right between his eyes. He looks back at you, telling you to be quiet once more as he gestures that you both will be heading up. But before he could even set foot on the first step, one of the masked men appears and kicks him forward, making him topple over the corpses. 

A scream is then wretched from your throat when you’re suddenly pulled back, the stranger trapping you against him while he positions his knife just under your chin, feeling the sharp edge of the blade kiss your skin. The man from the stairs kicks Jensen in the stomach then again, your co-worker writhing in pain as another joins his attacker, this time with a metal bar which he slams against his chest.

“Hello, nerd! Long time no see.” The one who kicked him greets, the timbre of his voice making your heart pound against your chest. No! “Whatcha doin’ with my girl, huh?” The stranger asks before pulling off his mask and you freeze when you see Lloyd’s face. He then turns to you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips and sending you a wink before he asks, “Whatcha doin’ here, Kitten? Thought you were at a company party?” The sly twist in his voice has you on edge.

The smirk on his face then fades, turning into a scowl when he nods at the man who’s got you trapped against him. You’re then released from his hold but not for long as Lloyd simply takes his place, grabbing you by your arm, wincing from his tight grip and dragging you into the living room where you see countless bodies lying lifeless on the ground and the walls of the house painted crimson.

He shoves you against the couch where you fall against something cold and sticky, only to realize too late, crying out to see that it’s Bucky you landed on; his blood staining your dress and your hands. But you’re then pushed away from him, falling back on the cushions as Lloyd kicks his body off the surface to take the space he once occupied. 

You feel like you’re about to convulse as you cry when Lloyd wraps an arm around you. You try to push away from him, not wanting to be near him but he shakes you like a rag doll, making you stop before gesturing over to someone you cannot see as your eyes are blurry from your tears and remain locked on your dead friend’s feet. 

“Gentlemen, thank you for all your help.” Lloyd says when the music finally dies and you look up, surprised to see Andy and Nick standing unscathed with only splatters of blood staining their costumes. But what has you more jarred is seeing Kate and Amber bound and gagged, sitting against the floor, they’re eyes wide in fear as they squirm to be free from their restraints. 

You’re suddenly off your seat and on your feet, determined to get to them, to help set them free and run away from this horrid place. But Lloyd is quick to yank you back, grunting when you fall onto his lap and his strong arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place.

“Relax, Kitten. They’re safe.” Lloyd assures, his gloved finger grazing against your cheek. “Just had to go through some extra measures to keep them out of the way.”

“We did our part, Hansen.” Andy says, pulling Kate from the ground who forcefully tries to pull away from his grip while Nick does the same with Amber, who in turn quietly follows while tears keep running down her face. “Just don’t forget the deal.”

“Yeah yeah. Just make sure your bitches know what to say if they’re questioned.” Lloyd responds with disinterest. “Meet me by the end of this week for your payment.”

It’s all the words the men exchange before dragging away your friends, their wide and fearful eyes being the last you see before the door closes behind them. 

The sound of wood being dragged across the tiled floor then makes you look forward, seeing Chris and Conrad, now with their masks off, placing a chair in front of you and Lloyd while the latter drags Jensen’s beaten body and forces him to take a seat. Both men then go to work, effectively binding their captive’s wrists behind his back with tape and his ankles to the legs of the chair.

The sight of his damaged state breaks your heart as you helplessly feel guilty upon thinking that everything that has happened to him is all your fault. You never should have come here in the first place as soon as you found out about the change of plans. You should have just gone home or better yet, you should have just stayed at home where you know Lloyd would be.

Yet the universe could be so cruel.

“Look what we found on him.” Chris says in a serious tone before pulling out a small ziplock bag from Jensen’s shirt pocket and tossing it over your lap. You glance down at the clear packaging, seeing several small white tablets enclosed in it. What?

“Lover boy here was so desperate to get laid he brought roofies with him.” Conrad adds with a laugh, pushing on the back of Jensen’s head hard that his body jolts forward.

The bag is then taken from your lap, Lloyd holding it up close to his face as he inspects the white circles. You yelp when you’re suddenly shoved off his lap, falling over to the floor while Lloyd steps over to Jensen and grabs him by his hair, pulling his head back while he holds the baggie in front of him, breathing heavily like some wild animal through gritted teeth.

“You were gonna drug my girl, weren’t you?!” Lloyd spits out his words and on Jensen’s face, tossing the tablets in Conrad’s direction, your throat eliciting a gasp when he holds a knife to his neck this time. “Did you take any drink from him?!” He asks, but it takes a second for you to realize that he’s talking to you. He turns in your direction, eyes dark with anger. “Any fizzy shit this asshole gave you?!”

You don’t understand what he’s asking, why the sudden interrogation—then it hits you. In the kitchen while you were busy with your thoughts, Jensen took your stale drink, as he claimed, and replaced it with another. No—it can’t be. He said it had coke in it and sodas make a fizz. 

“I won’t ask again, Kitten.” Lloyd pushes and you nod out of fear, knowing that he would find out that you’re lying to him if you said otherwise.

The look on Lloyd’s face shifts into something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand. Like something sinister has possessed him with the way his lips curl in a playful manner. 

A groan leaves Jensen’s lips when Lloyd releases him and you push yourself back against the couch when he goes for you next.

“Lloyd, please—!” you beg as he tucks the knife in his pocket, yanking you from the ground and shoving you forward, planting you firmly in front of Jensen before forcing you to bend over. “Let’s just go home—you already beat him!” You cry, pushing against Jensen’s thighs when Lloyd doesn’t budge and keeps dipping you further.

You feel like you’re going to gag when the metallic stench fills your nose especially with how close you are to your bleeding co-worker and you attempt once more to push away from him, no longer wanting the both of you to suffer. But the world suddenly feels like it’s turning upside down when you feel Lloyd pushing up the skirt of your dress, a grunt leaving his chest when he roughly rips your panties off your thighs.

“Now, don’t be like that, Kitten.” He says in a syrupy tone. “Don’t you want to at least show him his sick fantasy of fucking you?” The tell tale sound of his zipper being undone fills your ears and you’re shocked frozen, scared to the wits end that Lloyd would take you here amongst the dead and in front of your friend who he’s beaten to a pulp.

You look away from Jensen when you feel Lloyd’s cock brush against your ass, his tip teasing your pussy lips. You then shout when Lloyd grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at your friend who has one eye swollen shut, while the other is stained with blood and brimming with unshed tears.

In one swift move, Lloyd enters you, gasping for air at his sudden intrusion. Pain blooms at the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t allow your walls to adjust and begins fucking you at a brutal pace, your nails digging into Jensen’s thighs as you try to endure your abuser’s torment. 

Your body jolts against the chair, following Lloyd’s callous thrusts. You’re then washed in humiliation when you hear Chris and Conrad snickering at your sides, seeing them watch you with perverse eyes, sickened to the core as the thought that they enjoy what they are witnessing comes to your mind.

Both men then hold Jensen in place when he starts squirming in his seat that he almost topples over. Lloyd then abruptly pulls you up, pressing your back against his chest but only to grab on the straps of your dress and harshly pull them down from your shoulders, having your breasts spill into the open.

“She’s got perfect tits, doesn’t she, lover boy?” Lloyd taunts as he keeps up the pace of his hips, grabbing your breasts, kneading, squeezing, and pushing them together. “Why don’t you feel how soft they are?” And it’s as if things couldn’t get any worse, Lloyd moves you forward along with him, tipping forward when your knees hit the edge of the seat. His hands grab onto the back of the chair and you wail in horror when he forces your breasts to press against Jensen’s face, the sticky blood smearing all over your skin.

Lloyd laughs and so do his friends and all you feel is shame and disgust at what he’s doing to you—that the man you once loved would hurt you in the sickest way possible.

A gasp is once more wretched from your throat when Lloyd slams hard against your cunt, feeling his thick cock slide even deeper when your walls grow wet, the toe curling sensation from his tip repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours trying to take over. You feel like a woman possessed as you grit your teeth, pushing hard against the unwanted pleasure that slowly begins to crawl up your skin and seep into your bones, not wanting to give Lloyd the satisfaction that, despite such circumstances, he still manages to make you feel such a way.

Yet your attempts are deemed fruitless when you whimper and eventually turn into a moaning mess, your body responding to each of Lloyd’s touch; your pussy walls clenching around his throbbing cock with each thrust he makes and how your skin shivers, singing each note in sheer perfection as you climb higher and higher to your peak.

“You see that, nerd? You see how she turns into a fucking slut when you fuck her good?” He goads between heavy breaths, adjusting the position of his legs to have you lean more against his victim, his hands grabbing onto your tits once again only to rub it further against Jensen’s face, feeling the bristles of his goatee rub roughly against your skin. 

“Too bad you’ll never get to have this.”

Lloyd's hips begin moving more erratically, the sound of your skins slapping with one another filling the stolid air. You swallow thickly, refusing for any more moans to leave your lips as you’re slowly enveloped in ecstasy, Lloyd’s cock pulsing deep in your pussy.

A blinding white light suddenly fills your vision and you shake uncontrollably as you come hard around Lloyd’s shaft. Tears once again spring from your eyes and you’re confused about what causes it. Is it embarrassment from feeling the pleasure? Pain from Lloyd’s roughness? Or is it sadness of how the evening of fun turned into a nightmare? You can’t think as you’re dissolved into nothing, your body floating in orgasmic bliss. 

Lloyd follows soon, growling low and animalistic as he keeps his cock buried balls deep, painting your pussy walls with streaks of white as he spills his seed, filling you to the brim.

You think that it’s finally over, that Lloyd’s objective has finally been met. But a life draining gasp then fills your ears—not from you or from Lloyd but from Jensen. And it’s only then that you realize what has happened when you see Lloyd’s hand gripped on the hilt of the knife with the blade stuck deep into Jensen’s chest.

“No!” You cry out as Lloyd stabs him repeatedly, grunts of passionate anger escaping him each time he sinks the blade into the body before you. 

Tears of despair and horror are what fall from your eyes, closing them as you hope that this is all a bad dream. You ball your hands into fists as you try your hardest to close in on yourself, to leave this place of torment that Lloyd has condemned you into. 

Yet, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t. With the sound of metal hitting bone, along with the devious laugh of the men around you and the way your body shakes from Lloyd’s continuous blow, you’re repeatedly pulled back into the present, unwillingly witnessing the murder of your friend. 

You suddenly feel your body shake, your chest tightening that you think the room is losing air and the smell of blood getting stronger and stronger that it makes bile ride up your throat. With Lloyd’s final stab, he pulls you away with him, leaving the knife buried in Jensen’s throat. The world around you suddenly turns, your vision spinning uncontrollably that before you could even let out a scream, everything suddenly goes dark.

You sit inside the employee lounge along with the others in somber idleness. The police came over just before the store opened and ordered that it remained closed for the rest of the day to make way for an investigation. Vince wasn’t happy with the commands of the law enforcers but there’s nothing he could do—there was nothing anybody could do.

A massacre, one of the officers said. A mass murder, another voices, declaring that some of the victims were employees of the store. You already knew who it was—Bucky and Jensen.

One by one, the employees were interrogated, some taking minutes while others taking hours. You glance at Kate who sits across from you on the lunch table, noting the small bruise on the side of her neck. You try not to imagine what Andy told her or did to her that night. You don’t even dare to ask as you refuse to relive the grim evening, nor want to feed her any memory of it.

You sit up once your name is called and you feel the eyes of your other co-workers land on you. The detective, stout and looking somewhat annoyed to be doing such a thing, looks your way and asks your name once more to confirm your identity.

He beckons you to follow him and you do, but not before looking down at your best friend when she grabs your hand, seeing the fear etched in her eyes. You give her a small smile and give her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting her go and following the detective into the other room. 

You do as you’re told when he tells you to sit, staring down at the round table that sits between the both of you as you wait for his first question.

“I’m Detective Bodecker.” He starts, his belly protruding as he leans back against his seat. “And I just want to ask you a few questions regarding your co-workers. Is that okay?”

You nod.

“Do you need some water? Anything to make you comfortable?”

You shake your head.

“Very well. Let’s begin.” He hums and grabs his notebook from the desk, flipping a page. “Where were you on the night of October 31st?”

Your mind suddenly begins reliving the night in question. Jensen’s bloody face and Lloyd’s devious smile playing in your head. You blink those thoughts away, not wanting to give out any information on your face.

Taking a breath, you begin your tale. 

“I was at a party—”

[randomperson99sworld]

Ruffled Feathers 🪶

~ Part 49 ~

Summary: Julia Morgan, Bobby's niece, has always been a royal thorn in Dean Winchesters ass since the day they met 1 year ago at Bobby's memorial. She wants to be a hunter, he thinks she's a dumb kid playing dress up. Will she always be seen as an unwanted load in Dean's eyes or will he see something more?

Warnings: Age gap, language, sexual themes (used lightly) , physical abuse (Not by Dean), Main character death.

Word Count: 1,270

A/N: Poor Dean, my hearts breaking for him right now :(. Stated as always, this story is cross posted on Wattpad. Happy reading! ♥️

Dean stood in the clearing, the earth freshly turned where he and Sam had just laid Julia to rest. The air was thick with the scent of damp soil and wildflowers, the quiet surrounding them heavy with grief. He stared at the ground where she now rested, his heart a tangled mess of regret and sorrow. Her final request had been simple if the time ever came, and Dean had done his best to honor it. No traditional hunter's funeral. No fire. She wanted to return to nature, to become part of the earth again.

She had always been different, with a quiet strength that had drawn him in. The thought of her body becoming one with the earth felt fitting, in a way. She had always found peace in nature—something he could never quite understand, but he'd respected it. And now, in this quiet moment, Dean respected it more than ever.

Sam stood silently beside him, his presence a grounding force even in the depth of their grief. Neither of them spoke as Dean crouched down and placed the bouquet of bright dahlias on top of the fresh mound of dirt. Julia's favorite flowers—he'd remembered. They were just as vibrant as she had been, their colors a sharp contrast against the somber reality of what they had just done.

He knelt there for a moment, his hand lingering on the earth, wanting to say something, anything, but no words came. What could he say that would make any of this better? Nothing would bring her back.

After what felt like an eternity, Dean stood, brushing the dirt from his jeans. The weight of the phone in his pocket felt heavier now. He had been putting it off—calling her dad. It wasn't something he wanted to do, but it was something that had to be done. Even if the man had been an absentee father, he still deserved to know.

With a deep breath, Dean pulled out his phone and dialed the number he never thought he'd need to call. It rang. And rang. No answer. Typical, he thought bitterly.

The voicemail clicked on, and for a moment, Dean froze, unsure of what to say. His grip on the phone tightened as he forced himself to speak.

"Uh, hey, it's Dean... Winchester. I... I don't know if you even care, but I figured you should know... Julia's gone. She didn't make it. We—" He stopped, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to hold it together. "We buried her today, the way she wanted. Out in the open, under the trees. I—" He paused, his voice lowering as he blinked back the burning in his eyes. "She didn't deserve this. But, uh... yeah, I thought you should know."

He ended the call without waiting for a response, knowing deep down that even if her father did care, it was too little too late. Dean slid the phone back into his pocket, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him.

"She would've liked this," Sam said quietly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost reverent, as he looked down at the grave. "The flowers, the open air... it's what she wanted."

Dean nodded, his jaw clenched tightly. "Yeah, she would've." He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving the ground where Julia lay. "She deserved better, though."

Sam didn't respond, knowing that there were no words that could ease the pain Dean was feeling. They stood there together for a few more minutes, the silence filled only by the rustle of leaves and the soft breeze. Dean closed his eyes, letting the sounds of nature surround him, trying to find some semblance of peace in the chaos of his emotions. But there was none.

Finally, he turned away from the grave, his heart heavy. "Let's go, Sam," he muttered, his voice rough with exhaustion. "There's nothing left to do here."

Sam glanced back at the grave one last time, then followed his brother. As they walked away, Dean felt the ache in his chest deepen, a hollow emptiness that he knew would never fully heal. Julia was gone, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

The next day, Dean stood outside Julia's house—their house—staring at the door for what felt like hours. He knew what needed to be done, but the thought of stepping inside without her made his stomach churn. His hand hovered over the doorknob, the keys cold and heavy in his palm.

It wasn't that long ago they'd walked through this door together, laughing about something silly, her hand in his. Now, it was just him. Alone.

He finally turned the key, the door creaking open. The air inside was stale, filled with the weight of time that had passed since her death. He forced himself to step inside, numb to the sight in front of him. The small pile of mail she hadn't gotten to yet sat untouched on the table. The trash she'd been meaning to take out still by the door. Everything was just as she had left it.

Dean gritted his teeth, trying not to think too hard about any of it. He'd come to do a job—clean out the fridge, take out the trash, tidy up the yard. It wasn't supposed to be emotional. Just tasks. Routine.

But it didn't work. The second he caught a glimpse of her favorite blanket, still draped over the couch, he felt something crack deep inside him. That stupid blanket she'd curl up with every night while they watched TV together. He could almost see her there, smiling at him, teasing him about something mundane.

He turned away quickly, his chest tight, refusing to let it get to him. He walked through the house, making his way to the bedroom, telling himself to just keep going. One foot in front of the other.

Then he saw it. Her jacket. Hanging on the wall where she'd left it.

Without thinking, Dean reached out and grabbed it, pulling it off the hook. It felt like she was still there, like she had just worn it. He held it close to his face, breathing in the scent of her—faint, but unmistakably hers. It hit him like a tidal wave. The scent, the feel of her jacket, the overwhelming absence of her presence.

He collapsed onto the bed, clutching the jacket to his chest as the floodgates opened. Everything he'd been holding back—the grief, the anger, the sadness—came crashing down all at once. He broke down, tears he hadn't let himself cry pouring out uncontrollably.

"Damn it, Julia," he muttered between sobs, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

He was angry—angry at the demon that had taken her, angry at the universe for letting it happen, and most of all, angry at himself. He hadn't protected her. He'd failed her. And now, he was here in this empty house, surrounded by pieces of her, but she was gone. Forever.

The numbness he'd been clinging to shattered, replaced by a pain so deep it felt like it would swallow him whole. Dean buried his face in her jacket, wishing more than anything that he could turn back time, that he could save her.

But he couldn't. She was gone. And all he had left were these fragments of a life they'd shared, a life that felt impossibly distant now.

The house was silent, except for his quiet sobs. And in that moment, Dean felt more alone than he ever had in his entire life.

[gummydummy19]

I just started my period and this fic really relieved the pain 🥹🧡

•I Can Be Needy•

✨Pairing✨: gamer!Jake JensenxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: Your boyfriend can kinda be oblivious sometimes

⚠️: tiny bit of angst, mentions of menstrual cycle and symptoms, fluff

You wouldn’t consider yourself a clingy person really. You valued your alone time being able to decompress the stresses of life how you saw fit or do whatever you pleased with your free time.

Naturally though, there were those moments that you wanted extra cuddles and kisses. To be doted on by your loving boyfriend. Like now when your uterus seemed to have its mind set on making you miserable.

However, your boyfriend had yet to catch onto your time of need leaving you to retreat to his gaming room for some quest with his team. It had been an hour of excited yes’s mixed with gasps and frustrated groans which made it even more difficult to focus on the movie you were watching.

Not that you were annoyed by it. Hearing him made you want to be part of the fun even if it was just sitting off to the side watching his character jump and dash across the high definition monitor as his fingers gracefully pressed against the colorful buttons. As long as you could be in the same room as him inhaling the citrus and cedar lifting from his skin, you were fine.

Tiptoeing to the office space that consisted of his make shift studio, you shyly peak in to see him sitting a bit too close for your liking with his plumper, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Toned body hunched forward concentrating on whatever battle was on the screen as his biceps twitched with every other tap of his finger. Pushing his glasses to rest higher on his nose he notices you in his peripheral, briefly pausing the game and covering the mic attached to his headset so he couldn’t be heard by his other teammates.

“Was I too loud?,” he asks full of concern, mentally making you aw at how incredibly and unknowingly cute he could be.

You shake your head. “No, I was just watching.”

“Oh, well don’t be shy.”

Motioning with his head for you to join him, you feel giddy striding along the carpet to sit on his lap nuzzling your face in his neck with a content purr.

“Um Y/N, although this is very nice-,”

“Oh are you streaming?,” you ask quickly standing up and partially out of the camera’s view.

“No but my mic’s gonna be on so be careful,” he states pulling his older gaming chair from the corner so you could sit beside him. Soft smiles spread along both of your lips as you get settled and he leans over to sweetly peck your cheek over and over until he was content.

Much to the dismay of his friends who could hear the dramatic “muah” every time Jake made contact with your skin since he accidentally turned his mic back on.

“It’s called mute lover boy.”

“Aww thanks Jakey! Love you too bro.”

“If you guys need a minute, we can sub you out. Just saying.”

“Alright alright I’m back, sorry,” he replies clearing his throat. The pink hue of his ears and cheeks has you silently giggling to yourself.

“Don’t be rude, tell Y/N we said hi!”

“Hi Tobey, Derrick, Linus. Sorry about earlier.”

It didn’t take long for Jake to regain his focus. The tiny man on the screen dressed as some sort of ninja/knight switching between brandishing his swords—before slicing and stabbing enemies—and using his bandaged hands and feet to punch and kick his way through crowds of enemies. Leaning forward again with his elbows propped on the armrests, you can’t help scooting a tad closer to wrap your arms around his upper arm placing your head on his shoulder.

A tender moment short lived by Jensen gently wriggling out of your grasp.

“Babe I can’t have you on my arm like that while I’m playing,” he whispers before shouting at Tobey to shoot arrows at the evil troll on his left.

Your soft “sorry” goes unheard by Jake in yet another battle with three—now four giants. Okay so you might not be able to touch him, but there shouldn’t be a problem with your head on his shoulder, right? So you waited until his battle was over and the group of men were congratulating each other on their successful bout before returning your head to his broad shoulder as a cut scene played. The calming narration paired with being in your boyfriend’s company has you smiling to yourself, eyes closing in content until a long awaited reveal has his arms shooting up to his head in shock and your nose being hit in the process.

“Ow! Jake!”

“Oh jeez, sorry. I forgot you were there for a second.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh, standing up to put the chair back in it’s original spot.

“Hey where ya goin?”

“Our room, since apparently I’m either in the way or forgotten in here.” Grabbing for your hand, you’re quick to dodge him.

“Babe cmon, I didn’t-,”

“Whatever Jake just go back to your game.”

Before he can say another word, you’re already out the door and down the hall leaving the blonde gamer with his head falling back against the chair’s headrest, and eyes closed mentally groaning.

“Oooh someone’s in troublee,” is the last thing he hears followed by muffled chuckles before he’s taking his headset off following behind you.

———

It was so quiet when he entered the dimly lit room he thought you might’ve gone to sleep. However watching as you grimaced holding your lower abdomen and curling in on yourself, Jake’s heart sank feeling even worse that he made you upset.

“Hey Tink.”

“I don’t wanna hear it Jensen.”

“I’m sorry. You know that I never want to make you feel like you aren’t welcomed.” His sock clad feet shuffle closer until you feel the bed dip behind you followed by a sigh. “I’m also sorry for not realizing sooner that you just wanted to be close to me.” Still you lied there with your back facing him as if you hadn’t heard a word.

Normal, everyday you would’ve easily accepted his apology with open arms and plenty of kisses. However sensitive you, feeling as if you were being murdered by your own body, was a bit more stubborn.

Your ever persistent Jake wasn’t letting go easily either.

Lying down, he scoots closer behind you until his nose is pressed to the back of your neck. The warm air from his nostrils fanning across the small hairs on your nape. “Pleasseee don’t be mad at me.”

Seeing the faint twitch of the corner of your mouth and hearing your small cough trying to cover your giggle gives him hope as he wraps his bulky arms around your waist. “Go ahead and laugh, you know you want too.”

Luckily he moved his head back just in time for you to turn around, noses practically kissing on their own.

“Your nose is cold.”

“Then warm it for me,” he winks in yet another one of his dorky, yet very lovable, attempts at being smooth. You would roll your eyes, as you tended to do with some of the things your boyfriend did, but the sharp, stabbing pain in your lower abdomen has them tightly closing instead.

“Need me to get you anything?”

“No, I just took something, it hasn’t kicked in yet,” you answer taking a few deep breaths trying to relax amid the discomfort. “Don’t worry I’ll be fine.”

“I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I didn’t worry,” he states sliding off the bed after pecking your temple. “Go ahead and do whatever you need, I’ll be on the couch with the heating pad and perhaps even holding someone’s favorite food.” The excited yet tired gasp that escapes your mouth makes him chuckle watching your eyes visibly brighten.

“But what about your game?”

“You’re my main priority tink, so if your upset I wanna try to fix it.”

Plus not to mention he only had one life left and if he made the guys start over again, they’d surely kick him off themselves.

“You’re my favoritest ever,” you giggle.

“Love you too tink.”

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