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[nancymcl]

— reckless heroine.

cw: fem!reader, best friend!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a smidge of fluff, injuries and blood descriptions — 2.2k a/n: this is the first time I've posted anything publicly in years so consider this a testing the waters fic, trying to find my groove and decide if i want to make this a regular thing.

summary: after a rough, but successful hunt, you and dean arrive back at the motel, only you were reckless and got injured, some duct tape patching up ensues from an angry dean.

The storm had arrived just as Dean and her pulled into the grimy parking lot of the Twin Pines Motel, how very Montana. The heavy raindrops pummeled against the windows like a stark warning. The sky rumbled with low growls, and flashes of jagged light illuminated the dim, rundown building. Inside their basic motel room, the air was thick with tension and the unmistakable smell of almost damp carpet—a cheerful welcome after a semi-successful hunt with a werewolf.

Dean slammed the creaky motel door shut behind them, the force alone almost enough to splinter the plaster around the hinges, his expression a maelstrom of anger and concern blended into one explosive temper as he flicked the lightswitch, the gross orange-ish glow of the overhead bulb highlighted the unsavoury nature of their accommodation. They’d come a long way from Kansas for this hunt.

Sam and Cas took off East together for a potential case, something something bizarre circumstances, frankly, there’d been little resistance offered when the duo took off to the east coast, leaving her and Dean to take Montana—although if they were real, they’d probably have taken anywhere over the east coast.

The door was barely closed for a moment before his gruff voice crackled through the air like a whip. “Did that brewing concussion knock all damn common sense out of your head?” Dean snapped angrily, his demandingly sharp voice rising above the impending storm. “You got a fucking death wish or something?”

She grimaced, carefully moving to sit on one of the twin beds, feeling the throbbing pain radiating from the gash on the back of her shoulder, the wound still steadily leaking blood, instinctively rubbing the spot on the back of your head that had collided with the concrete earlier in the night when he mentioned a concussion.

“Very funny,” she retorted in deadpan, infusing her tone with a touch of biting sarcasm that was quickly becoming a defence mechanism, and all but guaranteed to rile him up further. “The victim needed help, she was bleeding out and scared, and unlike you I actually gave a shit about more than ganking the mutt.” The implication that he didn’t care if the victim survived so long as they handled the werewolf wasn’t helping Dean’s mood, but the remorse she showed was negligible. “Besides, I handled it, didn’t I? And it worked—aren’t you always telling me ‘trust your instincts, your instincts are good’.” she added on before he had a chance to respond, putting an emphasis on the drawl of his voice. The mock only made that muscle in his jaw clench so hard it wouldn’t be a surprise if his teeth shattered. Heed the warning.

A growl bubbled in the back of his throat, but somehow he managed to keep it partially contained and tossed both his and her bags down onto the bed she hadn’t plopped down on. He may be pissed at her right now but that didn’t mean he was going to let his injured best friend carry her own bag. “Trust your instincts?” He gestured wildly with his hand, like that would somehow show just how worked up he was right now. She was getting to him, bad, and it was taking every ounce of willpower he was summoning from Chuck only knows where to stop from lashing out at her. “You were reckless and got yourself attacked in the process of playing heroine!” He rasped, his low voice reverberating off the thin motel walls with how loud his words escaped. 

Just for good measure he had to force his eyes elsewhere, just so he’d stop being faced with those claw marks on your shoulder, every glance at them made something in him coil and burn. Stomping towards the foot of the unoccupied bed, he aggressively unzipped his duffle bag and rummaged through it. Meanwhile she was busy shedding herself of the unnecessary clothing and gear, kicking her shoes off and abandoning them on the mysteriously patchy carpet next to the bed, unbuckling her belt and unlatching the clasp on the blade sheath on her hip, tossing both onto the lone chair off to the side of the beds.

Finally after a few long moments his fingers found the squished edges of the first-aid kit he’d grown used to keeping in there—the first-aid kit that only remained stocked up because she meticulously replenished what she, him and Sam went through after every hunt—Snagging it up, deft fingers were quick to unzip and flick through it haphazardly, plucking out several different medical supplies.

When he realised she hadn’t responded to his last few retorts, which was uncharacteristic for her, his eyes flickered back towards her, forest green eyes darkening at the blood leaking against her pale skin. “You put yourself in danger, again, and walked away with a souvenir I’m not too keen on.” He continued despite his better judgement, gesturing angrily at the deep werewolf claw marks on the back of your shoulder blade, having torn through her flannel and undershirt, soaking both in bright crimson and leaving her down to a base layer tank top.

The retort had her glancing over her shoulder, but able to see little more than the dark streaks of blood sticking to wet skin. The amount of blood she’d lost so far wasn’t enough to be life-threatening, but it was definitely a worrying situation that needed attention. God forbid the pair didn’t do their back-and-forth arguing before that though, not like she was bleeding out over here or anything. “You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed.” He grumbled, not so hotly as before, the edges of concern leaking into his voice. “These are gonna scar ugly...” The last part was more of an afterthought.

“More to add to the collection,” she mused out far too casually for the situation. “What did you ju—” He interjected, a warning hiss in his voice, but she was quick to wave a dismissive hand over her shoulder at him. “Forget it.” She brushed off, cutting off his warning remark.

‘It’s like she’s trying to piss me off,’ Dean thought to himself, and hell maybe she was. “For once, couldn’t you have followed the game plan, sweetheart? Fuckin’ hell…” His tone was a mixture of worried fondness and scolding terseness. Either way, she was quick to turn her entire body around on the bed to glare at him, ignoring the searing pain from her wound with the quick movement.

“Oh? Am I supposed to bow down to Dean Winchester’s expert advice? Follow orders blindly?” She shot back at him, a chilling kind of coolness to her voice. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure that’s your speciality,” she added, venomously, the tension in her voice masking the discomfort that coiled within her body.

And she could have sworn she saw him flinch as soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, making a low simmering pit of guilt fester inside her, knowing she was out of line. Low blow. His gaze pained for a fleeting moment, pretty green eyes widening and mouth falling open the smallest amount like those words had quite literally taken the breath from his lungs; but it quickly hardened again as he stewed on those words, cracking open a bottle of antiseptic with more force than necessary. “Just— shut up, for once.” It was almost a plea, more of a pained demand, but she knew she’d hit a nerve. “Sit still and let me patch you up, okay? I may not be a doctor, but I can keep your ass from bleeding out.”

She rolled your eyes, watching as he pulled out a smorgasbord of supplies from the first-aid kit. “I’m perfectly capable of handling my own medical emergencies. This isn’t my first skirmish with fangs and claws, Dean. I don’t need your help,” her voice came out more snapped than intended.

Despite the fact they both knew the precocious positioning of this wound left her unable to attend to it herself, she’d have to be a pretty fine contortionist to deal with it without help. Dean opened his mouth to inform his best friend of just that but thought better of it in the final second, slowly his mouth slipped closed.

A frustrated grunt slipped past his lips and one hand racked impatiently through his short, messy locks. “Well, congratulations on surviving past encounters, but this looks like a crime scene,” he replied tersely before sighing in frustration, the adrenaline of the situation beginning to die. “—plus, you’re bleeding on my marginally clean bed,” he added on, in an attempt to diffuse the situation, which pulled a scoffed laugh from her mouth before it could be helped.

His tense shoulders dropped slightly in relief when she responded by gingerly peeling the fabric of her black tank top away from the wound, letting it slip down off her slender shoulder so he’d have access. 

The next fifteen minutes were deafeningly quiet, the only sounds were the soft pained noises that left her mouth, and the heavy breaths of concentration from Dean as he worked at disinfecting and patching up the wound on her shoulder as best as possible - Would this be easier to do in the bathroom instead of on the bed? Absolutely, but here they were.

Thankfully the wound didn’t need stitches, the claw marks the werewolf had left her with were nasty but not deep enough to be genuinely worrisome—not that it would stop Dean from worrying like a motherfucker. They’d leave some impressively disgusting scars, and hurt like a bitch for the next couple weeks as they healed, and as much as he was tempted to suggest going to the nearest a&e to get her properly seen to, just to be safe, he knew what her answer would be, so that wasn’t a battle he’d win. His basic hunter duct-taping would have to suffice.

The mood wasn’t great, both seething with worry and anger and pain that blended together into a chokingly intense thickness that lingered like smoke in the air, so it was in everyone’s best interests that they shut up.

“Done.”

Those words out of his mouth seemed to break the atmosphere and she slowly glanced back at him over her shoulder right in time for his thumbs to smooth out the medical tape that adhered the thick, white dressings to her pale skin, his touch extremely gentle despite everything, ensuring the tape wouldn’t come loose.

Turning on the bed so she was facing him as he remained stood up, her shoulders rolled back slowly, testing out the movement with the fresh patch up, it seemed to be healing. “How’s it looking, doc?” She quipped, her voice slightly lilted, making a weak attempt to lighten the mood up, too damn tired to argue further with him. His mouth quirked up in what could be described as a lazy grin. “Think you might just survive the night, thanks to the tireless effort of your handsome doctor.” He teased, only because he wanted to see her roll her eyes in that fondly affectionate way, and he got his wish.

The way she made a point to shake her head at him was all he needed to see to know that the sparky atmosphere had diminished; even though it was likely due to the adrenaline dying out and the pain kicking in.

His eyes followed her when she pushed herself to stand up, hands instinctively reaching out to steady her. “Mm, I don’t know, can’t say the bloody hands add to the sex appeal.” She hummed, eyes flicking down to his hands that were stained with her blood, hands that were now staining her arm in deep crimson too, her brows furrowing in distaste, but he didn’t seem in a rush to pull his hand back so she didn’t move to knock him off either. His gaze dropped to the offending hands in question, nose scrunching up at the sight of the blood as his thumb stroked against her elbow. “So… you’re saying I have sex appeal?” 

The tone of his voice in that moment was the most playful thing she’d heard from him in a long time. She couldn’t help but laugh, a real hearty ‘you’re such an idiot’ kind of laugh, the kind that had him grinning crookedly at her in return.

“Your ego needs no further stroking, I’m gonna plead the fifth on that one.” She held her hands up in mock surrender, which only rumbled an amused laugh from deep in his chest.

“That’s my girl.” Dean beamed, running his tongue over his teeth with a soft sigh. The adrenaline had long since faded and now he was left with that anxious worry and tired stress lingering in his body. “Fuck… C’mere, you,” he beckoned suddenly, barely giving her time to register his words before he was pulling her in against his chest, strong arms wrapping around her in such a delicate way, careful of her injuries while somehow managing to squish her into him. The height difference leaving the top of her head tucked perfectly underneath his chin as his fingers carted through her messy hair.

“Look... Call a truce, sweetheart?” The gruff hunter muttered into her hair, his arms cradling her close to his larger body. “Truce.” She conceded, placing a complacent kiss against his clothed shoulder, which earned a soft little rumbly hum from him.

The storm raged outside, but within the cramped motel room, a warmth had blossomed between the pair of them—a reminder that despite all the chaos of the job, it was them against the world and in this tempest, as the thunder rolled across the darkening horizon and the lightning split the sky, they both knew they’d face them together, side by side.

[nancymcl]

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, blood, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety

→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.

A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.

This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you saying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.

You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddle with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.

You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.

“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.

You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.

They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.

You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, whether you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.

“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.

In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.

Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.

A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.

“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.

Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.

“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settling over your body knowing he's okay.

→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!

[nancymcl]

Drake Rodger💕

[nancymcl]

Hate You (Kidding)

Crowley & daughter!reader, Sam and Dean & witch!reader, a little Rowena & granddaughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: your dad abandoned you years ago, but what happens when he finds out you’re still alive?

A/N: just so no one gets confused about this, here’s the background—Crowley found out how powerful demon/human babies can be, so he tried to make one, only it didn’t go the way he planned—the baby (you) were born without powers, and so he abandoned you. (Just because I didn’t want to give this the exact same backstory as Crowley’s son)

The theft was not going well. Your grandmother had made it seem so easy—sneak into the bunker, grab the black spell book, and make it out fast.

She failed to mention the two professional hunters that lived there.

You hadn’t been dumb enough to assume it would be empty—there had to be a reason Rowena wasn’t going herself, after all; she was scared. But you weren’t ready for Sam and Dean Winchester.

They had you in their dungeon basement—which was super creepy—before you’d even managed to find the book, much less grab it.

“What were you looking for, kid? Who sent you here?” The shorter—but no less scary—one had his hands on the sides of your chair, and he was looming over you. You had no doubt that he was willing to hurt you—you did break into his very dangerous house, after all.

You kept quiet, still unsure what the best course of action was. If you told them about the book and Rowena, would they let you go and go after her?

Then again, you didn’t know anything about these guys—maybe once they got their information, they’d just kill you.

You decided to stay quiet.

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand on the arm of your chair, and you flinched. “I said—“

The man stopped yelling when the lights went out. They flickered back on a moment later, only this time they were red.

“Someone’s here,” the tall one said.

“I’ll go check.” The man in front of you pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and turned to leave, saying to the tall one “watch her.”

Then it was just you and the giant—who, surprisingly, seemed a little less scary. He was definitely intimidating, but he also had a sort of “I don’t hurt children” vibe about him.

“This will all be easier if you tell us what you were after,” he broke the silence.

“Right, because you’ll have a reason to keep me alive after I tell you everything,” you scoffed.

“We won’t have a reason to kill you, either,” Sam countered.

“And you need one?” You questioned.

“What makes you think we’d just kill you for no reason?” He asked.

“I mean I did break into your house, and you are hunters.” You shrugged as best you could with your hands cuffed behind you.

“I’m Sam,” the man said, crouching down so he was more on your level—he was trying to look less intimidating, which surprised you. “That other guy is my brother Dean. We are hunters, but we’re not gonna just kill you for no reason. We’re not like that.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the door opening cut you off.

“Look who came for a visit.” Dean stepped into the room with a man trailing behind him. As soon as the man stepped into the light, every bit of air left your lungs.

“Didn’t know you had a visi—“ Crowley’s sentence froze halfway out of his mouth when he laid eyes on you.

Dean’s suspicious gaze picked up on the awkwardness instantly.

“You two know each other?”

Crowley gained his voice back first. “Used to. Not so much anymore.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” You found the strength to speak after you heard Crowley’s words. “You still look just as pathetic to me, father.”

“Father?” Dean choked. “Wait, that’s not possible.”

“I thought you were dead.” Crowley was now completely ignoring the Winchesters. “After…after that incident I figured the demons would’ve—“

“Incident?!” You all but screamed. “Incident? Is that what you call you abandoning me? Leaving me for dead? An incident?”

“I had no choice,” Crowley argued. “When the other demons found out you were powerless—“

“The other demons? It wasn’t about the other demons, it was about you! You used my mother to make yourself a half demon, and when I didn’t turn out to have any powers you threw me away. You wanted your demon friends to kill me.”

“No.” Crowley was brushing past Sam and Dean now, coming to stand directly in front of you. You squirmed in your chair, but you couldn’t get further away from him. “No I didn’t. I thought if I got rid of you, they’d have no reason to kill you and—“

“Don’t lie to me!” You cried out. “I’m not stupid! You may not have wanted me dead, but you sure didn’t abandon me to try to save me. You did it because I was useless to you. Pretending otherwise is just…it’s just pathetic.”

Crowley opened his mouth to argue, but he had nothing to say—he knew you were right.

“So you’re half demon with no powers?” Dean cut in. “Because I’ve met a half demon who could do anything he wanted just by thinking it.”

“Why do you think he wanted to make me?” You forced your gaze away from your father to look at Dean. “He wanted an all powerful being that was also fully dependent on him. Too bad for him, not all half demons are the same, and he got stuck with the powerless one.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you’re here now,” Sam cut in.

You bit your lip. You should’ve known it would circle back to this.

“Look, we’re not gonna hurt you if you tell us,” Sam promised.

“Fine.” A sly smirk lifted onto your face as your eyes went back to your father. “I’m here to get a book. For my grandmother.”

Crowley was still choking on air while Sam and Dean shared a meaningful glance before turning back to you.

“Rowena? You’re working for the witch?” Dean’s reaction told you that he both knew Rowena and probably hated her.

“She’s the only reason I’m still alive,” you said. “When he—“ you were inclined your head towards Crowley “—left me behind to get killed by demons, she saved my life.”

“My mother knows you’re still alive and she never told me?” Crowley scoffed. “It’s just like her.”

“She didn’t tell you because I told her how much I hated you.” You glared at Crowley as you spoke. “She understood the feeling, and we had a mutual understanding. Anyway, she told me she would teach me to take out demons the way she can—“

“But let me guess—only if you steal a spell book from us and bring it to her,” Dean interrupted.

“She said it was the only way she’d be able to teach me,” you defended yourself.

“She lied,” Crowley butted in. “She always lies—she was using you to get that book.”

“Oh, right, because you’re so trustworthy,” you shot back. “Why should I trust you?”

“You don’t think it’s a little strange that the first thing she does with you is send you to a place where you could get hurt, just to get something for her?” Sam argued. “You don’t think that that’s using you?”

You were quiet for a moment, and when you spoke again it was more subdued.

“I didn’t have any other choice. There are still demons out there who want me dead, and I’m totally and completely helpless.”

“You don’t have to be,” Crowley said. “I can help you.”

“Rowena may not be a saint, but I already know I can’t trust you,” you snapped. “I’m not looking to get abandoned again.”

“She had to know you’d get caught.” Sam seemed to be talking more to himself than anyone else. “So why…”

The Winchesters seemed to come to a conclusion at the same time, sharing a moment of telepathic connection before they turned and ran out the door.

“Do they do that a lot?” You wondered.

“You have no idea,” Crowley huffed. “I suppose I should find out what’s wrong.”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” The sudden smirk on your face made Crowley nervous. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you fell for that whole ‘totally and completely helpless” thing.” As you spoke, Crowley saw a faint glow coming from your hands, which were still handcuffed behind you. After a moment, he heard a snapping sound, and suddenly both of your hands were free and you were standing up. “Do you really think Rowena sent me here with no knowledge of magic?”

With a single wave of your hand, you sent Crowley flying against the wall. He landed with a thud, and you stepped over his frame on your way out the door.

“See you soon, father.”

…

Rowena had escaped with the book by the time Sam and Dean got to the library—she had waited until everyone was in the dungeon to make her move—and by the time the boys got back to the dungeon, Crowley was on the floor and you were gone.

“Great,” Dean growled. “She tricked us. I hate witches!”

“For once,” Crowley groaned as he slowly sat up. “I agree with you.”

…

“The Winchesters.” Your nervous gaze met your grandmother’s as you watched her flip through the spell book. “It’s them, they caught up. What now?”

“We need to distract them long enough for me to get through this spell,” Rowena insisted. “I won’t even need the book anymore as long as I can get this spell done.”

“I’ll distract them.” You were halfway to the door when Rowena stopped you.

“No, you’re not strong enough, not like this.” The way your grandmother was staring you down made you nervous.

“Like this?” You asked.

The door blasting open after a swift kick from Dean Winchester seemed to make up Rowena’s mind.

“I’m sorry, dear girl, but it’s the only way,” she said. “Impetus be—“

“Not so fast, mother.” You father appeared out of nowhere just behind Rowena, and he snatched up the spell book she was holding and swung it at her—she went down without another word. “I’m the only one that gets to hurt my brat.”

You didn’t say anything—you were still shaking. “Impetus beastiarum”—that’s what Rowena had been trying to say. Your own grandmother was going to turn you into a rabid monster—and ultimately kill you—just so that she could get away.

“The book.” You flinched out of your daze when Sam Winchester brushed past you and held his hand out to your father.

“Of course, moose,” he answered. “What would I need with a witches book?” He passed it over without argument.

“Why did you save me?” You demanded, sidestepping the taller Winchester to get a good look at your father, who merely shrugged.

“I’m the only one that gets to kill you.”

…

The Winchesters, of course, wanted to grab you after the little incident, but you flung them against the wall with your powers—one of the few tricks your grandmother had managed to teach you, and currently your favorite—and left before they got the chance.

You didn’t see them or your father for several more months. When you saw Crowley again, you were running for your life.

Somehow word had gotten around that a great witch had a granddaughter; or maybe it was that the king of hell had a daughter—you didn’t know, and you didn’t care. All you knew was that an archangel was after you because of it, and you had tried to cut a deal with him.

It hadn’t worked.

Lucifer had wanted you because he thought you’d be useful, and when he found out you weren’t, he of course decided that killing you was proper punishment for wasting his time.

You were in the midst of running for your life when you saw your father.

He was chained to the floor like a dog, watching your exchange with the archangel with peaked interest.

“Conteram hoc cincinno,” you yelled as you ran—it worked, and the chains at Crowley’s wrists snapped; they were warded against demons, not witches.

The freeing of his prisoner was enough of a distraction to get Lucifer off your tail. By the time he remembered you, you were out the door, and when he tried to turn his attention back to Crowley, the demon had already teleported.

…

“What was that?”

You jumped in surprise when your father appeared next to you.

“An escape,” you huffed out.

“You saved me back there.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you demanded. Crowley just grinned at you.

“Maybe witches aren’t so bad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[nancymcl]

I can be that something.......

Dean winchester x Y/n

When y/n tells dean one night that she always needs something to hold onto when she sleeps, he offers her something she'd never thought he would...............

(literally based this on myself! 🫣 I always need something to hold/hug, I don't know why but I do 🥹)

No warnings needed 🥰

Y/N and Dean had been friends for years, hunting together, sharing laughs and battles, forming a bond stronger than steel. One night, after a particularly rough hunt, they found themselves back at the bunker, exhausted and in need of some emotional release.

Y/N, feeling more vulnerable than usual, confided in Dean that she always needed something to hold onto when she slept. It was a quirk she had never shared with anyone, a vulnerability she kept hidden deep within herself.

Dean, being the protective and caring friend that he was, listened attentively, his heart tugging at the raw honesty in Y/N's voice. As the night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Dean made a decision that surprised even himself - he offered Y/N something she never thought he would.

"Y/N," Dean began, his voice tinged with emotion, "I know this might sound crazy, but...I can be that something you need to hold onto when you sleep. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock, her heart pounding in her chest at Dean's unexpected offer. She looked into his sincere gaze, seeing a depth of care and affection that took her breath away. Without a second thought, she accepted his offer, feeling a wave of warmth and comfort wash over her.

That night, Dean held Y/N close as she drifted off to sleep, feeling safer and more loved than she had in a long time. Dean's arms wrapped protectively around her body. He listened as her breathing evened out and sighed deeply as he knew she has fallen asleep. It wasn't long before sleep took its hold on him. From that moment on, they formed a new kind of bond, one that transcended friendship and held the promise of something more.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Y/N and Dean's connection deepened, their feelings for each other growing stronger with each passing day. They faced danger together, fought side by side, and always came back to each other, finding solace and strength in each other's arms.

And so, Y/N and Dean's friendship blossomed into a love that was as fierce as it was tender, as powerful as it was gentle. They had found something precious in each other, something worth holding onto, something that would stand the test of time.

As they lay intertwined in each other's embrace, Y/N knew that she had found her anchor in Dean, the one she could always hold onto, no matter what challenges they faced in the world of hunting. As for Dean, he was glad he offered to be that something to hold that night Y/N opened up to him.

Their love story was a testament to the power of trust, vulnerability, and the unbreakable bond between two souls destined to be together. As they slept peacefully in each other's arms, a sense of contentment washed over them, knowing they had found a love that would last a lifetime.

TAGLIST : @nescavaneckdaily @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @angelbabyyy99 @cheynovak @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33

[nancymcl]

I can't let you go. Part 1.

Characters: Sam Winchester x Female Reader, Dean Winchester, Castiel. Bobby Singer. Crowley. Mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: Language, Implied Smut. Steamy scene, A little fluff, Angst, Hurt Dean, Sam, Reader, and Cas. Guns, Cannon violence. Cannon with a twist. Slight panic attack. Let me know if I forgot any.

Summary: You have known Sam Winchester most of your life. He was your best friend and you were completely in love with him. The day after he decides to take on Lucifer and put him back in the cage is the day he finally makes himself tell you how he truly feels about you.

Word count: 5,634 words

A/N: My first fic for Sam. I'm sorry this one took a little longer. Hope ya'll enjoy 💗

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You had your phone on vibrate but the constant buzzing woke you. You pulled the pillow over your head and waited for it to stop. Finally, you thought. 

And then it started right back up again. You got up in a huff. You didn't even look at the screen. You flicked the phone open. 

“What?!”  

“Wow, I forgot how grumpy you are when someone wakes up.” He chuckled. 

“Sam?!” You sat up, turned the lamp on, and looked at the clock. “It's 2 in the freaking morning? What's wrong?” 

“Why would something Be wrong?”

“Because it's 2 in the freaking morning and you're a Winchester. It's usually bad news if a Winchester calls you in the middle of the night.” 

“Ouch. True, but still ouch.” 

“Can I call you back in the morning? I've had a really long day and need sleep.”

He paused for a second“What were you hunting?”

“Saaaam” You whined. 

“ I miss my best friend. Alright? You have been avoiding me since…” He trailed off

“Since Ellen and Jo died. And I haven't been avoiding you, Sam.” 

“ Oh come on. I've called you about 100 times and how many of those calls have you returned? Admit it.” 

“We can discuss this in the morning.” 

“(y/n)..” You heard him say as you were about to close your phone. You hesitated. Why shouldn't you just close it? Why did you have to go running every time Sam Winchester called you? You sighed. Because he was your best friend and you were completely in love with him.

“Sam?” You said still in a grumpy tone. 

“Are you close to Bobby's?” 

“About 3 hours away.”

“So with your lead foot more like 2?”

“Saaaaamm..” You whined again

“I Need you.”

Fucking hell. Why? Why? Why? Why did he have to pull the  I need You card? So unfair. 

You groaned Into the phone loudly. “Let me get dressed and have some coffee.”

“I love you.” 

It felt like a kick to the gut whenever he said that to you. Of course, it wasn't the way you wanted. “Yea yea, Winchester.” you closed your phone, got up, and got dressed. After filling Your thermos up with coffee you hit the road and you cursed him the whole way there.

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When you got to Bobby's it was a little after 4 am. Sam was sitting on the porch. His face lit up when he saw you. You hated that. You hated even more that you came. You swore to yourself you would grow a backbone and stop chasing him. But he needed you and you really couldn't stop yourself. With a deep breath, you opened your door. He was hugging you before you could even get the door shut. He picked you up and started spinning you around.

“Samuel William Winchester put me down now!!”

He laughed and put you down but kept you wrapped in a hug. You couldn't help but hug him back. “Sammy. What's wrong?” 

“Like I said I miss my best friend.”

“You can't lie to me. What's wrong?”

“I haven’t seen you for like 3 months. Can we have 5 minutes please?”

“OK five minutes.” you inhaled his scent of vanilla and cedar with a Hint of honey. God, it was intoxicating. And just like that you were putty in his hands. Crap you thought.  

He squeezed you and then released the hug. 

“Thanks for coming.” He said walking to the rear of your truck. 

You put Your hands in your jacket pockets and followed him. “Like I had a choice.” 

“ (y/n) Of course you had a choice “ He leaned Against Your tailgate. 

“Right.” You said in a sarcastic tone. 

He smiled. Then gave you a serious look. 

“ Come on. Out with it.” you nudged him out of the way so you could put the tailgate down. You hopped up to sit on it. 

“ Dean said no to Michael. Nobody thought he would be able to resist..” he paused. 

“Isn't that a good thing?” 

“Yes and no. The angels got Adam to say yes.” he stood up and started pacing. 

“Christ!” 

“So the fight between Michael and Lucifer is sure to happen now... Lucifer is trying to hold out. He thinks I'll end up saying yes. And he has some kind of magical hold on death now. Then there's Pestilence with some crazy virus up his sleeve. Everything Got so fucked up so fast (Y/n).” He stopped pacing and turned to face you.

You could see the tears in his eyes. You grabbed him and pulled him into your Embrace. His arms were around you again and his head in the crook of your neck. 

“Sammy we will find a way. I promise I will do anything I can to help.”

“ I already thought of a way. And just remember that promise as I tell you.”

You tried to detach from the hug, but he tightened his hold. You gave up and kept hugging. 

“ I think I have a way to get Lucifer back in the cage. If we can get all 4 rings from the horsemen we can open it.” 

“OK But how would you get Lucifer back…. “

The whole world stopped. He wasn't actually considering.” Sam, please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking.”

He sighed. “How do you do that?” 

“Do what?”

“Read my mind.”

Your eyes were full of tears now. And you held him tighter than you ever had. “Sammy.”

“You promised you would do anything…. Even if that meant letting me go?”

“No!” your voice cracked. 

“(Y/n)” he whispered 

“Sam, absolutely not.” 

“It's the only way to save the world.”

“Fuck the world.”  

He released his arms and rested his hands on the trunk by your hips. He leaned his forehead against yours. “You don't mean that,” he was still whispering. 

You crossed your arms on your chest and closed your eyes. There's no way you were ever going to be ok with this. “Oh, but I do. If you're not here I don't give a shit if the world survives.” He wiped away the tear that rolled down your cheek. 

“Babe..”

“Oh no. You don't get to babe me right…” He cut you off by kissing you. You pushed him back a little. “Sam what the hell? You can't tell me you're Going to let the devil possess you and then kiss me.” 

“You're Right.” he sighed with eyes full of shame  “I'm sorry.”

How dare he. Make a move now? Now? Why not 11 years ago? That didn't really matter now, can't change the past. Either the world is going to end or you're going to lose him. So why not? 

You grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him back to you so he was standing between your knees, He wrapped his left arm around you and his right hand found your neck spreading his finger he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.“ You sure?” He whispered his lips inches from yours. You Slid your fingers up into his hair and nodded. His lips smashed into yours. Your heart thudded in your chest as you felt his desire through his kiss. The fire ran from your lips down to your core. 

He let out a growl as you gripped his hair and pulled lightly. He grabbed behind your knees and pulled your crotch to his. The collusion sent electricity through your whole body as you moaned into his mouth. He pushed your lips open with his tongue and started massaging yours with his.  He started grinding up against you and you could feel how hard he was. That with the friction made your fire grow wild. You pulled him on top of you as you reclined your upper body back on the truck.  His lips skimmed your cheek, as they made their way to your ear, nibbling and sucking the lobe. You felt his hot breath in your ear as he whispered.  “Mmm. (y/n) I've wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you.” taking your earlobe back into his Mouth. Sucking on it a little harder this time. You softly moaned his name. You could feel his smile on your neck as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. He left goosebumps on your skin as he glided his hand up your thigh. Stopping at your hip, grabbing it he thrust against you once more. You moaned again. Then continue gliding it up your shirt. He stopped just below your breast. he raised his head and raised one eyebrow “No bra?”

“Some asshole woke me up at 2 in the morning and said he needed me. I didn't feel like putting one on.”

He laughed. “ just some asshole?” he asked and then started kissing your neck again. 

“Eh. I guess you can call him my best friend,” you said sarcastically. 

He smiled “Just a best friend?” he asked as he grasped your breast and thrusted again.

“Well kinda. I've always wanted him to be more. Don't tell him, but I’m planning on fucking him in the back of my truck.” you said in between moans. 

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After you guys got cleaned up and dressed you lay in the back of your truck.  He was beside you, arms wrapping you tightly and his head on your chest. You started swirling his hair in your fingers. You have had many fantasies over the years of fucking Sam and just being with him, but none of them could even come close to the reality. Every move, every noise, every time he looked in your eyes, every time he moaned your name. It was perfect. Now even just cuddling with him made your heart so full. He had your heart completely now and there was no way to get it back. You wished you could freeze time, but there was a war coming and a world to save. Plus you had to talk Sam out of the idiotic plan. 

“Sammy Not..”

“Please don't ruin this. “ He cut you off. 

“I'm not trying to ruin anything, but I have a question and I need the answer.”

He lifted his head and looked at you. “Just cuddle with me. After the sunrise, we will talk about anything you want.” 

You sighed you wanted answers, but the sky was already lit. Around another half hour and you could ask away. Plus you would be wrapped in his arms. “Fine, but I'm holding you to that, Winchester.”

He chuckled. “I know you will.” he kissed your lips. Soft and sweet. Then laid his head back on your chest. He put your hand back in his hair. You smiled and started playing with it again.

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Dean was at the kitchen counter making coffee as Bobby rolled his wheelchair in. 

“When did (y/n) get here?” Dean asked. Getting coffee mugs for all of them. 

“Not sure. Sam must have called her.” 

“I’m not sure that was the right thing to do,” he proclaimed as he poured a cup and took it over to Bobby.

“Thanks,” Bobby said as he took the coffee. “Well, she is a damn good hunter. She can probably help with this mess.”

“Yeah so we can get her killed too,” Dean said bluntly. “I'm surprised she even came after what happened to Ellen and Jo. “

“Dean. You can't blame yourself for Ellen and Jo…”

“They were helping us, Bobby.” Dean cut him off.  

“No Dean. They were trying to help the world. Not everything is about you.” Bobby said harshly as he rolled out of the room.

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The morning noises mixed with the beautiful sunset were so peaceful. You wished you could just stay in this moment with your best friend forever or was he more now? 

You heard him sigh. “Alright. We made a deal.” he sat up beside you. You sat up next to him. He took your hand in his. 

“I have known you for 11 years. If you wanted this why wait until now to make a move?”

He took a deep breath. “Well at first I thought you were into Dean.”

You laughed. “ Dean fucks anything with 2 legs Winchester? Ha no thanks.” You loved Dean, but it had always been a big brother love. Sam chuckled and his face went serious again. 

“And then everything happened with me and my dad. I finally got out. I didn't want to intrude or make you feel like I was trying to drag you out with me. You have always been 100% in the life. So I had to let you go.” 

He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you with ease. As he opened his legs he sat you between them. Leaning your back against him, he kept his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder. “When I walked into the roadhouse that day I could tell by the look on your face that you were hurt. I didn’t even think you’d want to be friends again. It took a while, but when we started getting close again the internal struggle came. I didn't know if I could move on without feeling like I was disrespecting Jess. I realized I was being an idiot and Jess would want me To be happy. When I called you that night and asked you to meet me, I was gonna tell you everything and I was hoping you felt the same, but then Azazel kidnapped me and that whole thing happened.  ” he snuck a quick peck on your cheek. You Smiled. “When Dean made his deal, I couldn't think About it. How could I focus on my drama while his life was on the line? Then when he went to hell I completely lost my mind. I pushed everyone away. I did a lot of shit I'm not proud of. After that, I didn't think I deserved anything good. I didn't deserve you.” You turned Your face toward his and kissed him on the cheek. You Tried to comfort him. The Moment your lips lifted off his cheek, he kissed your lips short and sweet. You leaned back into him. 

“ We have had a lot going on the last couple of months, but I couldn't stop myself from thinking of you. I know the situation is completely fucked up and I didn't expect things to go exactly the way they did. I mean I'm not complaining at all, but my Plan was just to kiss you and tell you how I felt. How I always felt. I just had to get it out before… Ya know.”

You spun your body around to face him. Looking down at him you could see the tears and fear in his eyes. You pulled him into your arms. You squeezed him as tight as you could and he reciprocated. You laid your head on his shoulder.  “Sam. I'm in love with you I always have been. I always will be. You're my best friend. My person. Please don't do this. I need You.” You couldn't hold back the tears. 

“(Y/n) I love you too.” he whispered. “ please don't ask me not to. It's the only way to get Lucifer back in the cage. It's the only way to save millions of lives. Baby, I have to.” 

You heard the screen door open and Dean's boots walking in the gravel. “ You alright (y/n)?” 

“No” You admitted. “ I can't believe.”

“Dean, give us a second. Would ya?” Sam cut you off

Dean looked At Sam with a furrowed brow. Sam raised his. 

“Uh yea. I just made a fresh pot. Don't let it go to waste huh.”  Dean said as he spun on his heels and walked back to the house. 

Sam waited until he was gone. “I'm sorry. I  wasn't trying to be rude. Dean doesn't know about the plan yet.”

“What?!”

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Sam walked in the door first. You made a B-line for the coffee pot. Dean's coffee was the best. 

Sam continued into the study. As you poured yourself a cup you could hear their conversation.

“She was crying, Sam. What the hell is going on?” Dean raised his voice. 

You didn't know if you should, but you made your way to the conversation. You leaned on the door frame.

“Dean. I have a plan..” Sam explained the whole plan. 

“Absolutely fucking not Sam!” The old Winchester was heated. 

Bobby rolled himself into the room but stayed silent.

“What The hell is wrong with you?” 

“Dean.”

“Don't Dean me. You've had some stupid ideas in the past, but this?!” Dean started to pace and saw Bobby. “Did you know about this?”

Bobby nodded

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Dean was pissed now. “ And I bet that's why (y/n) was crying. Am I the last person to know?”

“This ain't about me or her, Dean,” Bobby said

Dean turned back to Sam.“ You can't do this.” Yes talk him out of this you cheered from your mind. 

“That's the consensus.”

“Good, then this conversation is over.”

Sam looked at you. “Don't look at me, I'm with him.” You said as you pointed at Dean. 

Just then Dean's phone started ringing. “The answer is no Sam.”

He answered It as you walked back into the kitchen. You sat down at the table and sipped the last of your coffee. As you put the empty mug down, Sam walked in and grabbed it, taking it over to pour you another cup. 

“I would lecture you on how you drink waaaay too much coffee, but I doubt it would do any good.” He places the full mug in front of you and then sits on the opposite side of the table.  

“Oh, but I need caffeine. Some asshole kept me up all night.” You said with a smile. 

He laughed. “What A stupid asshole. Everyone knows how grumpy you get when you don't get enough sleep.”

“Yea he is being pretty fuckin stupid right now.” sams smile faded.

You hear Bobby yell “I will?” What was Dean putting him up to now? 

Sam took your hand and was about to say something When Dean walked in.

“That was Cas. He's human now. Bobby's gonna help me get back here.” He looked over at you guys and then down at your hands. He Raised his eyebrows once but didn't mention it. “Unless you wanna go pick him up (y/n)...” he smiled. 

You rolled your eyes. “Bobby, you wana ride along?” 

“Don't let Dean bully you darlin. You don't have to.” Bobby said wheeling into the room. 

“Ha. Trust me Dean Winchester ain't That scary. It's Cas. He's been there when we needed him. I'm not gonna say no.”  they all laughed. “One condition Though.”

“Oh of course.” Dean taunted

“I get the rest of that coffee.” You smiled. 

Dean loaded Bobby in the passenger seat of your truck while Sam Put his stuff in the backseat.  You tossed Your full, warm thermos in the front seat. And turned to the back door that Sam was shutting. 

“Are you sure you'll be alright driving?” he asked as he took a couple of steps toward you.

“Sammy I'll be fine. I've driven longer on less sleep.”

“You be careful.”

“Me be careful? I'm just going to pick up an ex-angel. You're going after a horseman.”

“I'll be careful, promise.”

Since Bobby and Dean were on The other side of your truck you were expecting just a hug. But he put his hand under your chin, raised your head, And knelt in for a kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his other arm around your waist. 

Bobby cleared his throat and you could feel Sam's smile. 

You both squeezed and then released. He stood there as you hopped into your truck. And he shut your door. “See You later.” You and Bobby nodded. 

Dean was standing at The driver's door of the Impala hand on the handle. “Dude,” He said as Sam walked up. 

“What?” Sam said annoyed

“It's about damn time.” 

Sam smiled as they got in. 

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Bobby was quiet for half the trip. He didn't even complain about your speeding. Finally, about Halfway there He broke the silence. 

“ ya know I Have known you kids for a long time. I've watched you pine over Sam and then Sam pine over you. I gotta say.” He paused. “ You guys have terrible Fucking timing.” 

You lightly chuckled. “You ain’t shittin ”

“It's gonna hurt like hell kid.” 

“It was gonna hurt regardless.”

“That's true. So you gonna let him do this?” Bobby asked. 

“I'm voting against it, but it's not like Winchesters listen when you tell them not to do something.” 

He huffed “Ain't that the damn truth.” he looked over at you for the first time since you left the house. “I'll be here if it happens and you need a shoulder.”

You looked back at him. “I know Bobby. I know.” 

You didn't wanna think about that Whole situation right Now. Just focus on getting Cas. Getting the rings and we will cross that bridge when we get there, you told yourself. 

“Don’t tell Sam and Dean, but it would be faster if you went alone. Just get in, grab him, and get out”

“I can take care of myself, ya know?” you said defensively. 

“I know, kid. Look, we have lost a lot of people. Me and the boys are protective, yes probably more than we should be. We just don’t wanna lose any more family. We love you (y/n).”

“I know.” you opened the door. “ I love you too Bobby.” you hopped out and closed the door. 

Cas had given Dean his room number so there was no need to stop at the front desk. You made your way up to his room. 

“(y/n), what are you doing here?” Castiel asked as you entered his room. 

“I was in the area, thought I’d stop by. Cas I’m here to get you, why else would I be here?”

“ Well obviously. Just surprised you're here by yourself.”

“Bobby is in the truck. Sam and Dean went to get Pestilence.” 

“How far away are they?”

“Not very. Let's go.”

You and Castiel had no problems getting out.

“Change of plans Bobby,” you said as you and Cas hopped in the truck. 

“ Oh hell.” Bobby groaned. 

You made It to the serenity Valley convalescent home as fast as you could. You got out and got in your toolbox. You grab your 9mm, put it in the back of your jeans, and pulled out your shotgun. 

“ What do you think you're doing?” Bobby asked. 

“Not now Bobby.” You pumped the shotgun. “Let's go Cas.” 

Cas looked at Bobby. Bobby nodded at Him to go. 

“ I know where he is I can feel him. Follow me and be careful” Cas told you as you entered the building. You guys got to the second floor before you started feeling woozy. You leaned Against the wall for support. 

“(y/n) You alright?” 

“I'm not feeling so hot. Cas go help the boys.” 

“I can't just.”

“GO!” You yelled

Castiel went on. He found the room Pestilence was in and kicked open the door. Sam and Dean were on the ground coughing up blood and barely conscious. 

“Cas?” Dean was surprised. 

Cas walked in ready to fight. He took 2 steps and fell to his knees. He was weak and could fight couldn't fight off the disease any longer. 

“Well look at that. An occupied vessel, but powerless.” Pestilence said smugly. You were almost to the door. If you could just make it to the door you could help. 

Just make it to the door…. You thought as You fell. Everything hurt. Your insides felt like they were going through a meat grinder. You were burning up, but freezing at the same time. You didn't even have the strength to cry out. 

Then suddenly all the symptoms just stopped. You felt fine. You grabbed your shotgun and Walked to the door. As you looked in the room you saw Sam and Dean getting up. Then Dean rushes to grab something off a table, Castiel Lying on his back with a demon on top of him dying from the demon blade, and Pestilence holding his bloody hand, a numb where his ring finger was. 

“Doesn't matter. It's too late.” Pestilence whispered just before disappearing. 

Sam looked back to the doorway. Disapproval In his eyes. You Guys had the ring, but everyone felt defeated. 

“Everyone okay?” Dean asked. The 3 of you nodded. “Alright then Let's go.”

Nobody said a word as you made your way outside.

“Hey Bobby, why don't you ride back with me and Cas?” Dean asked as he walked up to the passenger side of your truck. He gave Bobby a look then looked at you and Sam. 

“Yeah,” Bobby took the hint. Dean got his chair out of the bed. “We'll see you back at the house,” Bobby yelled as Dean Wheeled him over to the impala. 

You put Your guns back in the toolbox, then hopped in your truck. Sam was already sitting in the passenger Seat. You took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh, then started the truck. 

“You sure you're ok?” Sam asked. You nodded. “You want me to drive?” You shook your head. “ Do you want the How could you be so stupid Lecture now or later?”

“Sam,” you said. 

He continued. “ You know you could have gotten killed.” 

“Sam!” You said a bit louder. He stopped talking. “ I am a grown-ass adult. I have been hunting demons and monsters Most of my life. If I want to go kick some ass I'm going to go kick some ass. I don't need you treating me like I don't know what the hell I'm doing. “ You paused. He opened his mouth but you kept Going. “ If I hadn't brought Cas here you and Dean would have died. So no, I don't think I made a stupid decision at all. And I don't think you're in a very good spot to be lecturing anyone on making stupid decisions right now.”

He closed his mouth and looked out the window. You turned Your radio on. Turn the page by Bob Seger started playing as you drove off.

Neither you nor Sam said a word on the Drive back to Bobby's. You called dibs on the shower as soon as you walked into the house. Not Stopping for approval you headed to the bathroom with your duffle bag in hand. 

You thought about the ride home as the water warmed up. Maybe You were too harsh, but it's not like what you said wasn't true. The Winchesters and Bobby needed to see that you could handle your own. You weren't some delicate Little flower. And Sam was making a stupid decision. You Hurried in the shower just in case someone else wanted it. You Got dressed in sweats and a tank top. Then you twisted your damp hair up in a messy bun. Tossing your duffle in the hallway corner you made your way into the kitchen. Bobby usually had something to eat. As you searched for food you could hear the guys talking in the study. 

“Chicago is about to be wiped off the map.” Bobby had your interest. You grabbed a bag of chips and leaned on the doorframe. “Storm of the millennium. Sets off a chain reaction of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die.” They all just looked at each other. Bobby explains how death is going to be there and we might have a chance to get his ring. 

“Bobby, how do you know all this?” Sam asked

“I had some help.” 

You could feel his presence there before he showed himself and you smelled sulfur. “Really Bobby?!” Everyone looked at you then their eyes went to Crowley. He was pouring a drink behind you.

“Don't be so modest.  I barely helped at all.” Crowley picked up his drink and walked towards the Doorway. “Hello, boys.” 

He turned to you and eyed you up and down. 

“Hello, darling.” He said seductively. You could literally feel Sam’s anger. You rolled your eyes at Cowley and Walked back to the kitchen to put the chips away. You turned back towards them and leaned on the counter. 

Crowley walked into the study. “Go on tell them.”

“Tell us what” Sam asked. 

Bobby sighed “World's ending. Why should a soul matter?”

“You sold your soul?” Dean was shocked. 

“It's More like loaned it. “ Crowley said

“Did you kiss him?” Sam asked 

“NO!” Bobby exclaimed 

Crowley Cleared his throat and showed the Picture.

Bobby looked ashamed. 

“Ok, asshole. Give him his soul back now!” Dean stood up and started towards Crowley. 

“I'm sorry. I can’t.” Crowley explained. “That's my insurance. The Winchesters are notorious for killing demons and the princess back there has killed more than I can count. You three won’t kill me as long as I have his soul. I fully intend to return it once this is over and I walk away alive. Deal?”

Everyone stayed quiet. It's not like you had a choice. 

You just shook your head and walked outside. It was freezing, but you were so pissed and unsettled that the cold air felt good. You started walking, but you didn't know where to go, you just needed to get away. You started thinking about everything. Bobby’s Soul. Your heart started racing. The apocalypse. Your hands started shaking.  Lucifer. Your knees went weak which caused you to fall. The cage… Sam, losing Sam. Your chest became tight. You tried to take deep breaths, but your lungs were working against you. As you started gasping for air you felt arms around you. 

“You're ok. I'm here. It's ok Baby. Everything is going to be ok.” Sam’s whispered trying to comfort you “Deep Breath.” he did as he told you and you copied. He squeezed you tighter. “ Again. “ you took a deep breath with him again. “Keep going.” you both did again. He started humming an Elvis song. It was helping. 

Your chest loosened. Your hand stopped shaking. Your heartbeat returning to normal. 

“Thank you.” 

“Not a problem. You know I got you.”

“Yea.” but for how much longer? You didn't want to think about it. 

“Do you wana to talk about anything?”

“Not really. I'm going to go lie down.”

He stood up. You were still in his arms. You didn't have the energy to fight. He carried you into the house. You put your hand on his neck, covering your face with your upper arm. You didn't feel like talking to anyone. 

Everyone was sitting at the kitchen table. Cas and Dean stood up dismay on their faces. “Is she ok?” you heard Dean ask. 

“I think she might have had a slight panic attack,” Sam explained. He continued walking. “She seems better now. I'm gonna lay her in the spare bedroom.”

“Ok let us know if we can do anything,” Bobby called out. Sam nodded as he started up the stairs. 

Sam laid you on the bed. You took the wet socks off your feet and he covered you with a blanket. You rolled onto your side facing him. He sat down on the bed beside you. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have called you I shouldn't have drug you into my shit.”

“Shut up Sam.” you grabbed him and pulled him down to you.  He hesitated. “Samuel. I'm not ok with this whole plan, but if this is going to happen please just let me love you until you go.” 

“It might just make it harder.”

“It's going kill me either way. Please?” you pleaded. 

He gave in and laid down pulling you beside him.  You laid half of your body on him with your head on his chest. “Ya know it's not just hard on you. I finally got you and now I’m going to jump into hell.”

You leaned your head up to look at his face. “So don't do it.”

He kissed your lips. “I'm sorry. You know I can't do that.”

You nuzzled your head back down on his chest. He was so brave, so heroic, he was putting everyone else before his happiness. You couldn't be mad at him for that. Those were some of the reasons you loved him. “I know babe. I know.” you closed your eyes. Listening to his heartbeat you drifted off to sleep.

><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><[]><

Dean was getting the Impala ready. Sam walked up and leaned on the side of it with a heavy sigh.

Dean leaned around the trunk, “Let me guess, we’re about to have a talk?”

“Look, Dean, I agree with you. You think I’m too weak to take on Lucifer. So do I. I know I’m a screw-up. You, Bobby, (y/n), Cas. I’m the least outta all of us.”

“Sam.”

“It’s True. And if there was another way I'd do it in a heartbeat. I don’t want to leave you guys and I do not want to hurt her again, but I don't think there's another way.”

“Annnnd scene.” Crowley was standing on the other side of the impala. “There's something you need to see.”

Sam read the headline Crowley pointed at. It was about the swine flu outbreak and how Niveus Pharmaceuticals was releasing a vaccine on Wednesday.  Crowley helped them put together that Niveus was run by demons and the vaccine they were releasing was full of the Croatoan virus.

“Eh. Quite a plan.” Sam said

“So you boys better stock up on uh everything because come next Thursday we will be living in Zombieland,” Crowley remarked.

“Fucking great,” Dean said irate. 

[nancymcl]

Sweetheart

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Y/N Female character     

Summary: After years apart, Y/N and Jensen, high school sweethearts, unexpectedly reunite. As they reminisce about their past, Jensen expresses regret about their breakup, and the chemistry between them reignites. Despite the weight of Jensen's current relationship with Danneel, they share a tentative kiss that brings back fond memories of their first love.

Warnings: none

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

I sat at the dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of wine, absently watching the room filled with chatter and laughter. It had been a long week, and I needed a quiet moment to myself. At least that was the plan. But life had a funny way of messing up those plans.

Because across the room, sitting at a table with a group of familiar faces, was Jensen Ackles. My heart dropped into my stomach.

Jensen.

The memories hit me like a wave—late-night drives, stolen kisses under the stars, the reckless thrill of being young and in love. We were high school sweethearts once upon a time. Back when things were simple, before his acting career took off and our lives spun in completely different directions.

I thought I’d gotten over him. After all, it had been a lifetime. But there he was, laughing with his friends—Jared, Gen, and his wife, Danneel. All smiles, completely unaware that I was sitting there watching from a distance, fighting the urge to bolt out of the bar.

Just as I was about to slip out quietly, he turned, his eyes catching mine. His laughter stilled, replaced by a look of pure shock. Then, something softened in his expression—recognition, nostalgia, maybe even regret. Before I knew it, he was standing up and walking toward me.

“Y/N?”

His voice was the same as I remembered—deep, with that familiar Texas drawl that used to make my heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Jensen.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but seeing him up close after all these years made my chest tighten.

“Wow, it’s really you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been forever.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it has.”

He glanced back at his table, where Danneel was eyeing us curiously, and then turned back to me. “Listen, we’ve got some room at our table. You should come join us. Catch up a bit?”

I hesitated. Sitting down with Jensen and his friends wasn’t exactly the way I envisioned spending my evening, but something about the look in his eyes made it impossible to say no.

“Sure,” I said, offering a small smile.

As we walked over, Danneel’s eyes flickered between us, but she smiled politely when I sat down. Jared gave me a big grin, and Gen waved. They were all friendly, but I could feel the tension in the air.

--

“So, Y/N, how do you know Jensen?” Jared asked, breaking the ice.

Jensen chuckled, glancing at me. “We went to high school together. We eh... Dated for a while, actually.”

There was a brief pause before Jared’s eyes widened. “No way. You’re that Y/N?”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess I am.” looking at Danneel, who didn't seemed pleased with me being there.

--

Jensen and I were thrown back into the past. We started talking about the memories we had buried for years—the late-night drives, the reckless things we used to do when we were teenagers, and how Jensen once stole his dad’s car just so we could drive around town at 2 a.m.

“You were terrified we’d get caught,” Jensen teased, nudging me with his elbow. “But you still climbed in anyway.”

“I didn’t want to miss out on the fun,” I shot back. “Plus, you were always the smooth talker. I figured if we got pulled over, you’d charm your way out of it.”

Jared laughed. “Oh man, I can picture that. Jensen with that cheesy grin, trying to sweet-talk the cops.”

Gen leaned in, smiling. “And you stayed out all night?”

“Not all night,” I said, laughing. “But we drove around for a while, talking about everything and nothing.”

“Yeah, and you made me park by the lake...” Jensen added, his voice softening. My breath caught at that, the intensity of his gaze bringing back memories I thought I’d buried.

There was a time when he knew everything about me and I never miss one of his games, no matter the sport, how he’d always catch my eye from the field or the court and flash that smile, just for me.

Sitting there with Jensen, surrounded by his friends, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being transported back in time. The weight of years between us was starting to slip away with every memory that bubbled up between us.

Jensen leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine as if we were the only two people in the room. “Do you remember when you used to just sit in your room, lost in one of those books, and I’d be trying to get your attention?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the memory as clear as day. “Oh God, you mean when you’d literally cling to my legs like some sort of needy puppy?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad.”

I shot him a teasing look. “Jensen, you would lie on the bed, wrap your arms around my knees, and just hold on while I tried to read. I couldn’t even walk, and all you’d do was look up at me, waiting for me to give in.”

Jared snorted into his drink, clearly amused by the image of a younger Jensen desperately vying for attention.

“I had to fight for your attention,” Jensen said, a twinkle in his eyes. “But honestly? I secretly loved it when you’d ignore me and just keep reading. You always looked so peaceful, completely lost in whatever world you were in.”

My smile softened, a warmth blooming in my chest. Those quiet moments, when it was just the two of us, had been some of my favorites. No words, no pressure—just the comfort of being with each other.

“Then there were the not-so-quiet moments,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Like that time during one of your soccer games, when you got hurt…”

“Oh man,” Jensen groaned, already knowing where I was headed.

Gen leaned forward, clearly invested in the story. “What happened?”

“He got tackled pretty hard during a game,” I said, recalling the scene like it was yesterday. “The ref didn’t call anything, and I lost it. I yelled at him from the bleachers so loudly, everyone turned to look.”

Jensen laughed, shaking his head. “You were fuming. I swear, I’ve never seen you that angry before.”

“I was ready to throw hands with that referee,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt as the memory surged. “No one was going to hurt you on my watch.”

Danneel, who had been quietly sipping her drink, quirked a brow at that, her smile tightening ever so slightly. I ignored the tension radiating from her side of the table, trying to focus on the flood of old memories that were coming back faster than I could process. Maybe it was time to stop this trip down memory lane, but Jensen thought different.

“And then there was that trip to my family’s lake house,” Jensen said suddenly, his voice dipping into a playful tone. His eyes glinted with mischief, and I knew exactly what story he was about to bring up. “Remember how my dad almost caught us?”

“Oh God,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “How could I forget? You made me jump out of a window, Jensen.”

Jared nearly choked on his drink. “Wait, what?”

Jensen was grinning like an idiot now, clearly relishing in the memory. “After a school year of dating each other, my family invited her along for the summer."

I added: "We were supposed to be in separate rooms, you know—strict family rules. That was my moms only rule."

"But I snuck Y/N into my room late that night. We were just talking, hanging out. Nothing crazy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, just talking—until we heard your dad walking down the hall. You panicked and threw me out of the window.”

Jensen burst out laughing. “You didn’t even hesitate! I told you to jump, and you were out of there in seconds.”

“You gave me no choice! Your dad knocked on the door, and I thought for sure we were caught,” I said, laughing at the absurdity of it now. “I ended up hiding under the deck in my pajamas, freezing, while you played it cool upstairs like nothing happened.”

“I’m impressed,” Gen said, grinning. “That’s some serious stealth.”

“I wasn’t feeling too stealthy at the time,” I admitted, still laughing. “But we made it out alive, somehow.”

Jensen shook his head, the smile lingering on his lips. “That weekend was one of the best I’ve ever had, though. We stayed up late, talked about everything—your dreams, my acting, what the future might look like. You made me feel like I could do anything.”

I felt a lump form in my throat at his words. I remembered those nights vividly, especially one night, the night I lost my virginity to Jensen. He made sure it was perfect. And I was pretty sure that night was on his mind right now, while he was smirking looking at his hands on the table.

Besides a romantic he was also full of ambition back then, and I was convinced he’d make it big. I had always believed in him, even when the world seemed like it was asking for too much.

There was a moment where it felt like everything around us had faded, like the rest of the table didn’t exist. Just me and Jensen, sitting in the memories of a time when we were so young and so sure of each other.

But then, just as quickly, the weight of the present came crashing back in.

Danneel shifted beside him, her eyes on me, her smile no longer reaching her eyes. “So, why did it end?” she asked, her voice soft but carrying an edge. “If everything was so perfect back then?”

The question hung in the air, cutting through the laughter like a knife.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t breathe. The reality of it all—the years apart, the heartbreak, the different lives we’d built—crashed down on me.

Jensen was looking at me, his expression unreadable. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t relive that part of the story. The part where we broke up, where his career took him away, where I was left behind to figure out how to move on without him.

I swallowed hard, looking down at my glass. “Sometimes life just takes you in different directions,” I said quietly, not daring to meet her eyes. “Jensen’s acting career was taking off, and I… I had my own path to follow. We couldn’t make it work with the distance.”

It was a truth that still stung, even after all this time. I’d always been proud of him, but it didn’t make it any easier when our worlds no longer fit together.

Jensen looked like he wanted to say something, but I couldn’t stay. Not with Danneel’s question lingering in the air, not with the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “I should really get going,” I said, forcing a smile, my voice tight. “It’s getting late.”

Jensen reached out as if he wanted to stop me, but he hesitated. “Y/N…”

“I’m glad we got to catch up,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “It was nice seeing you, Jensen. All of you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, I turned and walked out, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air hit me as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to ease the storm swirling inside of me.

Some memories were just too heavy to carry, even when they were wrapped in laughter.

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out of the bar, the cool night air hitting my face as I stepped outside. My chest felt tight, and I didn’t stop walking until I was far enough away that I could breathe again.

Some things were better left in the past. Even if the heart had a way of clinging to them.

As I stepped out into the cool night air, my heart raced. I thought I could escape the weight of the past, but as I made my way down the sidewalk, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps rushing after me.

“Y/N!” Jensen called, his voice full of urgency. I paused, glancing over my shoulder to see him closing the distance between us, concern etched on his face. He caught up to me, gently grabbing my arm to stop me.

“Hey, wait,” he said, his breath coming a bit heavier. The warmth of his hand on my arm sent a shiver through me.

I turned to face him, my chest tightening as I looked into his deep green eyes. “What is it, Jensen?”

"Don't leave like that please." I shuffled nervously.

His brow furrowed slightly as he studied my face. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” I couldn’t help but smile at that, he was trying to stall. “Neither have you.”

He tilted his head, an amused grin forming on his lips. “Have you ever even cut your hair differently?” I asked.

Instinctively, my hand moved to his hair, brushing my fingers through the familiar softness. The moment hung in the air between us, electric and charged with memories. But as I realized what I had done, my breath caught in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, pulling my hand back, embarrassment flooding my cheeks.

But he held my hand in place, bringing it back to his side, fingers intertwined. “You clearly missed 15 years of my career,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

I smiled, shaking my head. “Oh no, I really liked Supernatural.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You watched?”

I looked down, a shy smile creeping onto my face. “I promised you I’d support you. Always.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, the gentle touch sending a spark through me. His eyes locked on my lips. “It would be wrong if I want to kiss you, right?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing at the thought. “Yeah, right…”

But deep down, my heart was screaming the opposite. It wanted to feel his perfect lips against mine again, to bridge the gap that had formed between us over the years. All the memories of stolen kisses, laughter, and the way he used to look at me flooded back, overwhelming me.

“I shouldn’t have let you go all those years ago,” he said suddenly, the weight of his words heavy in the cool night air breaking the chain of thoughts. “I thought I could handle it, but I never realized how much I’d miss you.”

My breath caught at the honesty in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that made my heart ache. “Jensen…”

“I know... and I don’t want to put you on the spot,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But seeing you tonight brought back... rverything, and I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter.”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a mix of happiness and longing. “You matter, Jensen. You always have.”

He stepped closer, his breath mingling with the cool night air. “Then why did we let it slip away?” His voice was thick with emotion, and I could see the conflict in his eyes.

“Because life happened,” I replied softly, my voice shaking. “We both got caught up in our dreams and forgot how to hold on to each other.”

“But we’re here now,” he said, a glimmer of hope in his gaze. “Can’t we just…?”

The warmth of his hand still holding mine, the softness of his touch—it felt so right. Everything in me wanted to say yes, to lean in and kiss him and pretend that nothing had ever changed. But reality loomed like a shadow, reminding me of all that had passed between us.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, my heart torn between what I wanted and what I thought was right.

He stepped even closer, tilting my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. “ I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.”

The sincerity in his eyes made my heart swell, but the fear of what that meant for us, after all this time, pulled me back. I could feel the tension between us thickening, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

And for a brief moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to kiss him again. To feel his lips against mine, to reclaim that spark that had never truly gone away.

But then I remembered Danneel’s earlier words, the weight of their relationship looming like a cloud over us. It felt wrong, messy, and yet—

“Maybe you’re just drunk,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood, hoping it would ease the tension hanging between us.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’ve never been more sober in my life.”

The seriousness in his voice sent a rush of warmth through me, and before I knew it, he moved in closer, his intentions clear. There was an unspoken understanding in the air—he was giving me a chance to back out. But I didn’t want to back out. I couldn’t.

As he leaned in, I saw the same teenage boy I had fallen for all those years ago. The one who had clung to my legs while I read, the one who had made me laugh until my sides hurt, the one who had kissed me beneath the stars and took my breath away. That sweet, sweet young man who had always made me feel like I was his whole world.

His freckles were lighter now, but his eyes still shone with that same vibrant light that had captivated me back then. It was like he had somehow retained every part of himself that I had loved. And suddenly, the chaos of our lives faded into the background. All that mattered was the two of us standing there in the night, the world around us falling silent.

When his lips brushed over mine, I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment. The warmth of his touch ignited something deep within me, pulling me back to that summer by the lake, when everything felt perfect and right. I could almost hear the sound of the water lapping at the shore, feel the gentle breeze on my skin.

It was there, in that sacred space between us, that I remembered the first time he said, “I love you.” It was shy, a whisper barely carried by the wind, but it was everything I had ever wanted to hear. That moment was etched in my heart, and now, with his lips on mine again, it felt like we were reclaiming it.

The kiss deepened, slow and tentative at first, as if we were both afraid of breaking the spell we were under. I felt my heart racing, every inch of my skin alive with sensation. He tasted like the memories of my youth—sweet, familiar, and filled with promise.

As we pulled away slightly, our foreheads resting against each other, I could see the questions dancing in his eyes, the uncertainty mingling with hope.

As we stood there, the worries of our past and the complexities of our present became distant echoes.

And all I could think of was maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other again.

Jared walked outside, his voice made me almost jump, but Jensen still held me. "Jensen, we're leaving, man."

Jensen turned his face but kept looking at me.

"I'll be right there."

I let go of him, both our eyes filled with tears either of joy that we found each other again, or out of spite we had to let go again.

"Bye." I whispered.

"Bye."

--

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Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378

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@livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @yvonneeeee @whimsyfinny

[nancymcl]

Can you do a fic where the reader Jensen wife likes doing tiktok trends and finally gets him to do one please when you get time that is maybe have were he only does it if she does that thing he likes

Hi! @deanwinchestersgirl8734

I love that request! I happened to be off from work today so I had spare time today! Here it is ❤️ I hope you like it!

Warnings: None, all fluff, maybe little grumpy Jensen, but that's cute.

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

'That tiktok-thing'

You sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone as comments flood in on your latest TikTok. There it is again — the same questions you’ve been getting for months.

*“When is Jensen gonna join one of your TikToks?”* *"How is Jensen?"* *"When are we going to see Jensen?"*

You smile to yourself. They always ask. No matter how many times you’ve said he’s not interested in tiktok, the fans just keep pushing for it. And honestly, you can’t blame them. Jensen, your ridiculously handsome husband, would be a hit on TikTok.

Not that you haven’t tried before.

You glance over at him, lounging on the other end of the couch with his eyes glued to the TV. He’s so relaxed, totally in his element, blissfully unaware that you’re scheming again.

"Hey, babe?" you say sweetly, leaning over just enough to catch his attention.

“Hm?” he hums, not even looking up.

“Everyone’s asking when you’re going to make a TikTok with me,” you say, dragging out the words in your best attempt to sound innocent.

Jensen doesn’t even flinch, eyes still fixed on the screen. “Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, pouting a little, “you already do TikTok trends with your PA. Why not me?”

That gets his attention. His eyebrows shoot up, and he turns to look at you, an incredulous smile tugging at his lips. “She tricks me into doing them. There’s a difference.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, sure, she tricks you. Right. Is that what we’re calling it now?”

"Come on babe, it's your fans that ask for it. Not me, you know... you call them your supernatural family, those people who love you for what, almost twenty years now." You weren't planning on giving up. He smirks and say, "I do plenty of cameos for Mish on socials." You sigh dramatically.

Jensen chuckles, his eyes returning to the TV, clearly thinking the conversation is over. But you're not giving up that easily.

You get up from your spot on the couch and crawl over to him, positioning yourself right in his lap, effectively blocking his view of the TV. He gives you an amused look, his hands instinctively resting on your hips as you settle in.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks, though there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’m just saying,” you begin, leaning closer until your faces are only inches apart, while your fingers play with his shirt. “I could make it worth your while…”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Worth my while, huh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

You grin mischievously, biting your lip before you speak. “I’ll do that thing you like…”

His expression shifts instantly, his eyes widening in surprise, looking at your lips. “T-The thing thing?” he stammers, trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

You nod, giving him an exaggerated wink. “Uh-huh. That thing.”

Jensen swallows hard, glancing from you to the TV behind you, then back again. Trying to act like it was a very hard decision to make. His resolve is clearly crumbling, and you can see the gears turning in his head as he weighs his options.

Finally, with a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Well… I guess I can be persuaded.”

You let out a small cheer, throwing your arms around his neck. “You won’t regret it!” Jensen smirks, pulling you closer. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I won’t.”

As you lean in to kiss him, you can already imagine the look on your followers’ faces when they finally see Jensen making an appearance in your next TikTok. "I love you!"

Jensen lifts you up and starts making his way towards the bedroom. You make sure your feet touch the ground before you say. "What do you think you're doing."

His thumb point towards the bedroom. With a confused look. You kiss him and pur sweetly "That's payment babe, first the tiktok."

His shoulders drop, his head falls back with a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

All enthusiastic, you grab Jensen’s arm and pull him toward the kitchen, where the lighting is perfect for filming. “Come on, this is going to be fun!” you say, practically bouncing on your feet as you show him the ideas you’ve saved on your phone.

Jensen raises an eyebrow, looking less than convinced. “I’m not doing that,” he says, crossing his arms at the first suggestion.

You sigh, swiping to the next. “Okay, what about this one? Super easy!”

Jensen shakes his head without even blinking. “Nope. Not even that.”

You pout, trying to think of something that might entice him. Then it hits you. “Oh, I get it… Maybe this couple dance?” You scroll to a clip of a romantic dance challenge, but Jensen's eyes go wide with mock horror.

“What?! Are we starring in, Dirty Dancing now? Sweetheart, I’m not Patrick Swayze,” he teases, though the smile on his face betrays him.

You start giggling, imagining it. “You’d look great in the water though. Ooooh maybe you could lift me in the pool?”

Jensen lets out a laugh, shaking his head as if he can’t believe you. “Yeah, that’s exactly what this is missing. Me, soaking wet, attempting a lift. Very graceful.”

After a few more playful back-and-forths, you finally settle on a classic: the “Islands in the Stream” shuffle, inspired by David and Victoria Beckham. It's cute, fun, and simple enough. Plus, it fits the vibe of the two of you perfectly. You’ll start the dance, and Jensen will come in later, pretending it is all natural.

He gives a reluctant sigh. “Alright, fine. But no lifts.”

You grin victoriously, quickly setting up the phone to capture the perfect angle. With the music queued, you start dancing, following the rhythm, moving effortlessly through the routine. At first, you think Jensen might back out last minute, but to your surprise, he steps into frame exactly when he’s supposed to, nailing the timing.

And then, out of nowhere, he starts singing along.

“Islands in the stream, that is what we are…”

You nearly mess up the next step because you’re trying not to look head over heels when he sings, but his voice is so smooth, and he’s actually getting into it. He flashes you a playful grin, clearly enjoying the moment, even though he’d never admit it.

By the end of the dance, Jensen even improvised, he turns you and pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist. Before you can even react, he dips his head and captures your lips in a soft, lingering kiss — the perfect romantic finale.

You hear the TikTok music fade, signaling the end of the clip, but the two of you stay there for a moment longer.

When you finally pull back, Jensen looks down at you with that signature smirk of his. “See? Not so bad, was it?” You smile up at him, your heart doing little flips.

“Nope. Totally worth it.” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “that thing you promised better be worth it too.”

You laugh, leaning into his chest as the phone chimes, notifying you that the TikTok is ready for editing. “Oh, it will be.”

As you check the footage, you realize it’s even better than you imagined. And Jensen? Well, let’s just say the fans are going to lose their minds.

But he takes your phones out of your hands and place it on the kitchen counter, "Now..." he said while walking you back towards the bedroom.

"... making love to each other ah-ha..." he singles softly under his breath. And all you could do was follow along.

He deserved... that thing.

--

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[nancymcl]

Enough

@spnfamilyj2m: Hi love, I hope you're doing alright! If this blog is still active, could you do a story where Sam and Dean find out about Y/N's self harm and eating disorder, and she's their little sister? Thank you!

Warnings: self harm, talk of ED/body dysmorphia, very angst and dark. A/N: if you are struggling, please reach out to someone <3. Also, sorry it's so long I went into detail, but I hope I wrote it okay for all.

Pairings: Winchester Brothers x sister!reader, plus Jody

Word Count: 4,317

You had grown up in a male dominant environment. You, Y/n Winchester was usually the only girl around your family and friends, the attention often fell on you because of that. But despite eyes always falling on you, body image wasn't something you really knew anything about, so it never crossed your mind. Well, it never used to.

None of the guys around you, mainly your brothers, never made any comments on how they viewed themselves, on the outside. There was never much emphasis put on physical appearance for you. The only thing on the outside that was a thing in your mind was clothes. You got hand me downs from Sam and Dean, secondhand clothes from thrift stores. Occasionally as you got older, you got to go shopping for new clothes - which became necessary because neither of your older brothers owned any bras.

Then you started high school... and it all changed.

Freshman year... It was like your eyes were opened for the very first time to the struggles of being a girl and your body image. It started when you were sitting in one of the bathroom stalls one day, a group of girls flooded in. They were considered one of the more popular groups in your grade. The group scattered around the sinks, you peeked through the slit in the stall door to see what they were doing. The girls were looking in the mirrors, faces pressed super close with their fingers picking, pulling, moving the skin on their face around.

"Ugh, how do you get rid of a double chin? I swear I'm starting to get one." One girl complained.

"I wish my fat would go to my face, mine's all going straight to my hips."

The girls kept going on and on, commenting on their appearances negatively, while complementing each other positively. You had never heard anyone talk like this before in middle school, before it was all about what outfit you were wearing, which you quickly learned didn't matter to you.

That evening when you got back to the bunker after school, you went into the bathroom to take a shower. After undressing, you caught your gaze in the mirror and stopped. The way you looked in the mirror at yourself that night was different from how you had ever looked at yourself before. You recalled the conversations between all those girls in the bathroom at school, it all began to manifest itself in your own mind.

The shower must have been running for almost a half hour, because Sam knocked on the door. You were normally quick to shower, but you hadn't even gotten in yet. You had gotten distracted looking at every inch of your body, grabbing different areas of skin and turning around to see every angle.

"Y/n? .... you alright in there?" Sam asked lightly.

You panicked. There was no way he would've believed if you were fixing your hair, or taking off your makeup. You weren't even wearing makeup yet, or doing anything crazy to your hair. You couldn't think of anything else, so...

"Uh, yeah! I just.... think I've been a little constipated." You called out, taking a step towards the toilet, giving it a flush. You slapped your head in embarrassment to what you just said.

"Oh. Okay..." Sam awkwardly said before walking away.

"Why's she taking so long?" Dean asked, as he saw Sam enter the library.

"Uhm. I guess she's trying to poop."

Dean made a face that Sam couldn't read, looking confused. "I don't wanna know...."

~

The rest of high school flew by in the blink of an eye. You could say you had a pretty distorted self image. You had good days where you felt confident, but bad days too where you felt self conscious. No one had ever gone out of their way to tell you how you looked. You never had anyone saying you were too thick or thin, it just all came from what you picked up on in your surroundings. The skin on your bones started to feel like it was too much. Seeing photos posted online from your peers in swimsuits and revealing outfits. You knew your brothers would NEVER let you out of the bunker wearing anything like them, but for you, all you wanted was to look thin and fit in your normal clothes. You didn't want your thighs to touch, or your stomach to fold over when you sat down. You really started to take it seriously after graduating high school.

You tried to start thinking about it with a healthy mentality of wanting to maintain a good diet and exercise. You thought, starting to create a good habit of doing so now, would make it easier in the future. But the intrusive thoughts kept creeping in your mind, telling you how you should look, and what you had to do to get there. So, you really started to commit.

You were too far into it at this point. Constantly body checking in the mirror and weighing yourself, multiple times per day. You'd go for runs twice a day, once in the early morning before your brothers woke up, then again in the afternoon. Finishing off workouts with sit-ups and pushups in your bedroom. You'd be lying if you said it was easy to hide from your brothers, they eventually started to pick up on it.

Part of you wanted to reach out for help, you wanted someone to help pull you out of this hellish habit you had dug yourself into. The other part of you couldn't. You couldn't bear to think of what Sam and Dean would think of you if they found out, or what they would do. You did a pretty good job of acting like yourself, normal attitude and all, even though you felt nothing like it. You only wore baggy clothes so they didn't notice how thin you had gotten. The only noticeable change was in your face, the bags under your eyes and how they looked sunken into your face. You chalked it up to a possible iron deficiency which was somehow believable enough for them.

You had a whole thing going, and you didn't... well, couldn't stop yourself. You had accepted that this was your life now, as terrible as it was. All until, a simple trip to Jody's fudged up your whole plan.

You three got out of the impala in Jody's driveway. You were kind of excited to be there, it had been a while since you three had seen anyone else besides each other. Jody happened to be on the way home after a hunt, Sam suggested stopping by after calling ahead to make sure she was home.

"Hey! you guys... and my girl!" Jody greeted happily at the door. You gave her a hug and walked inside. She looked taken back after hugging you, noticing how bony you felt. "What? What's wrong?" Dean asked, noticing her change in face.

"Um, nothing. It's just been a while, y'all have changed." She smiled back, brushing it off for now.

All of you sat down and started to catch up, after almost 2 hours, Jody suggested dinner.

"Is it alright if I order pizza? I didn't get the chance to prepare anything before you guys showed up." Jody chuckled.

"No worries, Jody. Uh, yeah I'm down though." Dean smirked, looking at you and Sam. He said yes as well, and you nodded.

SHIT. Dinner. You didn't even think about that. Jody usually offers dinner when you three visit, knowing how you guys don't get chances to sit down together much.

The pizza arrived and you were panicking. It felt nauseating just thinking about eating. You all sat down and prepared your plates. You picked at your plate, taking the slightest nibble, not able to force yourself to eat any more. Jody noticed immediately, never seeing you behave this way.

"Y/n, you okay?" She asked lightly.

Your heart was pounding. "Um, yeah... why?"

"You've barely touched your pizza..." Jody pointed out, grabbing Sam and Dean's attention.

"Oh, I... I'm just not feeling too well." next thing you see is a hand reaching out and palming your forehead. "Well, you don't have a fever." Dean said while chewing his food.

"No, it's nothing like that. My stomach just feels a little queasy." You sat back, placing a hand on your stomach. You weren't lying, you did feel a little nauseated.

"Well, here, drink some water." Sam pushed your glass of water closer to you. "Just... try and eat a little bit." Dean chimed in.

All of their questions and nagging felt like they were getting to you, they were probably starting to get suspicious. You just couldn't bring yourself to eat another bite, your stomach started swimming and you couldn't hold it back anymore. You jumped up from the table, rushing to the bathroom.

"Y/n?!" Jody called out, rushing after you with Sam and Dean following behind. Jody approached the threshold of the bathroom door, seeing you hunched over the toilet. "Oh, honey..." Jody came over, placing a gentle hand on your back and helping you hold your hair. She turned around to Sam and Dean who were towering in the doorway, making the bathroom feel smaller than it was. She waved her other hand at them, motioning nicely for them to get out.

You were breathing heavily, having nothing else in your stomach to get out. You started dry heaving, Jody sat next to you, attempting to calm you down. As you found even breaths again, you sat down next to the bathtub, letting it hold you up with your hands in your lap. You felt so weak and defeated, and knew Jody was going to start asking questions.

"Y/n.... are you sure you're just sick?" She asked, studying your body language and pretty much everything else. You nodded weakly, avoiding eye contact. She gently lifted your hands into hers, rubbing her thumbs against your palms and your wrists in a calming way. You didn't notice, but she proceeded to feel how small your arms felt in her hands.

Jody's breath hitched, she looked up at you with such sadness and disbelief in her eyes. "Y/n! What is going on?" She asked in a hushed but urgent voice.

You tried holding back the tears, but her words broke you. You knew she was disappointed. Jody looked at you with sad eyes and pulled you into a hug. You accepted and wrapped your arms around her, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort you didn't know you needed.

"I'm sorry..." You finally cried out.

Jody pulled back slightly. "Hey, you don't need to apologize. I just don't want to see you hurt yourself. If you're hurting, you need to ask for help." You nodded again, not knowing what to say. Not wanting to say anything.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but I think you should." She suggested, but knowing she was more politely demanding. "Are you eating?"

There was a long silence. You were barely eating, you knew what you were doing. You just didn't want to admit to it out loud. You gave in and shook your head 'no'

Jody let out a heavy long sigh. "Does Sam or Dean know?"

You shook your head 'no' again, and urgently looked up towards the door, remembering where you were and what was going on. You had really hoped they weren't around the corner listening. "Well, I really think you should tell them..." Jody said. She continued to talk to you about what you were doing and how it was going to hurt you in the long run if you didn't stop soon. She was very mindful of her word choice, careful not to upset or trigger you. You stared blankly at the wall, listening to her spiel, sort of waiting for it to be over so you could go home. You were so tired, and just wanted to sink into your bed and go to sleep so you wouldn't have to deal with everything.

"We all love you y/n. I'm not mad... I will say I am upset to see you like this, but that's because I care about you, and so do Dean and Sam."

"Can you promise me that you'll tell them?" Jody asked.

You nodded slowly in response. "Yeah." You said, barely a whisper. You lied. You didn't want to tell them. You knew you should, but you weren't ready. "Okay, why don't you go wait in the car, I'm gonna say goodbye to the boys." Jody stood up, helping you up and out of the bathroom.

You walked past the kitchen where your brothers were sitting to reach the front door. You could feel their eyes on you, but you didn't engage. You climbed into the backseat of the impala and sprawled across the bench, laying your head down and crying softly to yourself before falling asleep.

Jody came back into the kitchen with both the Winchester boys' eyes on her. Sam looked extremely concerned, Dean just looked deflated of emotion.

"Well...? Is she okay?" Sam asked.

Jody paused. "Well... honestly... no. And, I really shouldn't be telling you this, because she promised me she would tell you both. But... I don't think she's ready to say anything anytime soon, so..."

"So, what's the problem?" Sam asked once more.

"I think... she most definitely has some kind of eating disorder going on."

Sam and Dean were definitely shocked to say the least. They knew their baby sister had struggled with things before like depression and anxiety, but nothing like this. Jody of course made sure that they had an idea to what that meant, which they did to an extent. But Jody still took some time to explain to them the whole picture and how to go about dealing with it for you.

"Thanks, Jody." Sam said as they finished up their conversation and got ready to leave.

Dean was speechless. He couldn't fathom that you felt this way, were doing this to yourself. All under his care and he didn't even know. That's what hurt the most.

"Thanks.... uh." Dean muttered. Jody pulled him into a hug after Sam's hug. "I know, it's a lot to handle."

"We'll be in touch." Dean gave the best smile he could muster up. "Yes, we will. Call me if you need anything." Jody emphasized. Both men gave her a wave as the got into the car.

First thing they did was look back at you, thinking they would have to say something, start discussing things on the way home. They weren't looking forward to it, knowing how upset and vulnerable you'd feel. But you were fast asleep. A little bit of relief washed over them both. They could give you the night to rest, start fresh, and give themselves the night to think. You all got home pretty late, you were still sleeping in the back seat.

"I'll get her to bed, if you wanna unpack the car." Sam offered.

"No, I got 'er." Dean said softly. He opened the back door and slowly scooted your body out of the car towards his reach. He lifted you up like it was nothing to him. Of course, he hadn't recalled the last time he had to carry you to bed, but you were definitely a lot lighter. Dean cringed at how little you weighed as he carried you to bed, setting your frame down on the mattress. He stood there for a moment, taking in your appearance, not wanting to believe that you were dealing with... what you were dealing with. He questioned himself, wondering if there was something he should have done better to prevent you from thinking that way about yourself.

Sam popped in the doorway. "Hey... "

Dean turned around, acknowledging his presence, then looking back once more before leaving the room. He closed your door quietly and stood there still outside of it.

"Sammy, I.... I don't know what to do." Dean paused, not sure if he wanted to continue.

"I know. It's uh..." Sam also at a loss for words.

"I just don't wanna say the wrong thing, or make it worse, but we can't let her keep going like that."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, well... remember. Jody said we just gotta take it one step at-."

"Yup. Got it." Dean cut him off. The two exchanged looks before going their separate ways for the night.

~

You woke up in your bed, like usual, but slowly started to recall the events of last night. You stared at the ceiling, not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to do anything. You looked over at the time to see you had slept in a little bit. Normally, you would've been up already after your first morning run, and then eating "breakfast". But you could feel how much your body was craving that sleep. You returned your gaze back to the ceiling and teared up, and then became silent cries. You felt like such a let down and so embarrassed. Jody knew, and soon your brothers had to know if they didn't already know. You didn't want them to know you had sunk this low.

You got up and decided to just go face them now. Knowing that if you hid in your room all day, they'd get suspicious and come check on you anyways. But, hey, maybe there was a chance that Jody didn't tell them. You immediately smelled breakfast in the halls of the bunker. It wasn't your usual "breakfast" it was actually breakfast. You knew Dean for sure made something for all three of you. You reluctantly entered the kitchen to see them sitting down at the table, with a plate waiting for you.

"Morning, sweetheart!" Dean said with as much enthusiasm as he could without sounding like too much. Sam had a sympathetic smile on his face. Oh shit, they definitely knew.

You sat down, not knowing why. You really wanted to run back into your room and go back to bed. There was a silence that fell over the room.

"Sleep well?" Dean asked.

You had no desire to talk, but maybe you didn't have to just yet if you played along. You had been doing it for this long so far. "Yeah, actually. Feeling much better." You added some cheer into your voice, reaching for the fork and knife next to your plate of scrambled eggs.

The brothers exchanged some confused looks. You knew they were onto you, so, you attempted to eat a little bit of eggs before excusing yourself. "Mhm, I need to pee... I'll uh, finish this later." You said getting up from your seat and leaving the room before they could say anything. So many thoughts crossed your mind walking back to your room.

Why didn't I just stay in my room, I could've avoided that, I feel terrible, I just want this all to stop.

You closed the door to your room, walking over to your bed and sinking down to the floor, leaning against the frame. You needed a distraction from everything in your mind, and proceeded to do the first thing that came to your mind. Reaching in your nightstand for a razor blade, you pinched it between your fingers and held it to the side of your wrist. You took a breath before dragging the blade against the skin, taking a longer deep breath and letting your mind focus on it.

~

Sam and Dean look at each other, so much going through each of their minds.

"Was this too much? Did we try too soon?" Dean fretted.

"I don't know, I can't tell yet." Sam whispered.

They spoke softly as you walked away, but they heard you close your bedroom door, not the bathroom door. Sam let out a heavy sigh. He thought more and more about your behavior over the past year and tried piecing it together.

Both of them agreed one of them should go talk to you. Both of them talking at once right now might make it feel like a lot for you. Dean stood up, taking the plates away, starting to clean up. Sam got up slowly after that and made his way towards your room.

"Y/n?" He called out softly after knocking.

You were so focused on what you were doing, it almost felt like you were in a trance for a moment. Then the noise of Sam knocking registered in your brain, but it was too late.

"Y/n? Can I-" He stopped as he opened your door slightly, seeing you sitting there on the ground with a blade up to your wrist.

You turned around in shock and jumped when you saw him. You broke down as you walked up to the door, almost falling over trying to shut it. Sam was quick to put his hands on the door, not letting you close it. "Sam, stop!!" You rose your voice.

"Y/n! It's okay." Was all Sam could say as he pushed past the door to you. He grasped your wrists, not wanting you to hurt yourself any more. He picked up the razor blade off the ground, quickly putting it in his pocket. "No! Let go, please!" You pleaded.

"Y/n/n, please. It's okay." Sam said in his most calm voice. He dragged you a bit towards the bathroom, your weak legs having no choice but to follow him. Sam turned on the sink, reaching to put your wrist under the running water. You tried to pull away, he gave you a sympathetic look but held your hand there as he reached with his other hand for a few tissues and a towel. You winced in pain as he put pressure with tissue on your cut.

Dean heard the frustrated voices and commotion so he dropped what he was doing and walked towards it, stopping when he noticed you and Sam through the doorway to the bathroom. He saw Sam holding bloody tissues to your wrist and knew.

"Y/n! Wha-....."

"It's alright, c'mon." Sam felt you tense up and guided you back to your room.

"Sam, no. It's not alright." Dean followed closely behind.

"Dean! Not now." Sam rushed. He went and sat you down on your bed, wanting you to feel comfortable.

"Uh, yeah we're gonna do this now... now that she's doing this too!" Dean's voice got louder. You could tell by his voice that he wasn't mad, he was just furiously worried, which was sometimes worse.

"Too?" You asked hesitantly.

"Yeah y/n, too! As in, I don't need you hurting yourself in multiple ways now." Dean yelled.

That was it, you couldn't hold back anymore and let your emotions go. They knew, they knew for sure. You had disappointed them, and got them worried about you.

"Dammit!" Dean shouted, not being able to help himself.

"Dean! If you can't contain yourself, you need to step out." Sam urged.

"You are such a beautiful girl, y/n." Dean ignored Sam. "You know you can always come to us, right? You're scarin' me right now."

"M' sorry, Dean." You cried, dropping your head down and letting your hair fall to the sides. Sam tucked your hair behind your ear, still kneeled in front of you holding your wrist in a towel.

Hearing you in such pain made Dean turn around, taking in the scene in front of him. "No... no, no, no y/n. You don't need to apologize. "I'm just sorry that something or someone around made you feel like you aren't good enough. Not beautiful enough. Cause, that is not the case at all... You are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on." Dean came closer, kneeling down next to you.

His words made their way to your heart and you couldn't help but break down that wall you had built up for so long. You nodded. "I never meant for it to go this far." You cried, still looking down. "Please don't send me away, somewhere. I can't do that. I'll try, I can't go-." You sent your mind into a panic, starting to talk in a frenzy.

"Hey, hey, don't worry. We don't want to send you away....but... we do think you should at least go talk to someone." Sam reassured.

"I agree." Dean chimed in. "A-and we- me and Sam will be here for you, whatever you need!"

You looked up and looked at both of your brothers. You nodded, letting a few more tears go. "I tried to tell you before, but I couldn't..."

"I know bug, it's alright. But, we are in this world to make a mark with our qualities, our talents, what makes us unique. Not our looks. Lead with the inside, not the outside, because that's the part that matters. Sam expressed.

"I just don't want to see you worrying about the wrong things. You are worth so much more than how you look. We love you, y/n. We want to see you love yourself, and you deserve to."

You calmed down and sat for a while with Sam and Dean, listening to their words. You felt a lightness wash over you, feeling a little sense of yourself come back. "Thank you." you said. "I'm scared as hell, but I want things to be different."

Sam wiped your stray tears with this thumb, and placed a hand over your shoulder. "That's okay, that is a great start!"

"We got you, y/n. Always." Dean brought you into a hug with Sam. You let out a much needed breath, relaxing your tenseness, feeling safe and hopeful for the first time in a long time.

[nancymcl]

Does It Make A Sound?

Word Count: 2,413

Warnings: mentions of psych ward/unstable behavior

A/N: written for @jacklesversebingo and because of a random prompt they dropped in the discord this morning. Prompt at the bottom to avoid spoilers.

Square filled: small town setting

You’re seven years old, your mother kneels in the garden, a flowered foam board beneath her, failing at its job to protect her knees from the sharp rocks in the dirt. As you roam the flower beds beside her, a loud bumblebee catches your attention and you follow it into the open yard. It buzzes, winding its way around the grass and into the treeline at the back of the property. There should be a fence there, separating you from the densely wooded area, but the wooden pickets crumbled under the fallen branches of last winter’s storm. It’s impossible, almost, to see into the thick tangle of branches, even as far down as your eye level. The forest isn’t exactly scary - it’s just dark.

And… loud.

The only sound you heard in the yard was the bee, but standing next to the trees, it’s like another world coming alive within the leaves. The birds chirp, the bugs chitter and skirt across the cold ground, and there’s even a frog bellowing from the creek burbling nearby. But that’s not what really draws you in.

That day - the day you innocently wandered through the grass, following the path of an unknowing bumblebee - is the first day you hear the voices. 

On your ninth birthday, you invite all of the friends from your class to come to your house. Your mother promises you a pink and purple cake, just like the one in the bakery’s catalog, and though she usually doesn’t come through on her promises, on this one, she delivers. A small, two-tiered pastry sits on your kitchen counter as your classmates filter through from the front door into the backyard. 

Your father has repaired the fence since the day you meandered into the forest, your mother’s fearful scream at her realization of your absence prompting him to leave immediately for the hardware store in town.

Still, despite the barrier, you’re drawn to the woods. The voices beckon to you every time you enter the backyard. You want to dive into the thick boughs of the pine trees and follow the sounds of children guiding you to play with them. But you can’t; you’re confined to the safety of the yard. Quite literally, fenced in.

Your friends run and play behind you, delighted squeals coming from the girls while the boys chase them. But you don’t care. You don’t want that. You want the forest. The voices want you in the forest.

Sixteen. Your first time driving a car, your first love, your first heartbreak.

He kissed your best friend behind the snack stand at the Friday night football game while you were buying him fries. 

You run, but not into the house, not through the house, around the house. Around the fence. You run past Mr. Walter Smith’s clothesline, past his shed full of landscaping equipment. You breach the treeline, and suddenly, your crying subsides. Your sobs turn into deep, calming breaths as you inhale and exhale the new air around you.

You’re in the forest.

The voices surround you. You feel them, like whispered words from a lover, ghosting across your skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of the breeze caressing you. You’re alone, but despite the way your heart shattered at the sight of your ex-boyfriend and your best friend, you’re certainly not lonely inside the darkness of the woods. 

You’re finally inside, and you’re silent, barely allowing yourself to breathe too loudly. The forest has a heartbeat, a pulse, breath flowing through it. You’ve never felt more alive. The forest is alive, though you see no signs of life. No birds flying, no bugs crawling, no deer or squirrels or mice. There’s nothing, but there’s everything. 

Your mother’s voice permeates the dense foliage, but you barely hear it. You don’t care, don’t give even a second thought to her screams as she calls out for you. Closing your eyes, you let the forest overtake you. Your arms feel like branches, your legs press together and become a solid tree trunk, your hair bristles like the leaves. 

Faintly, distantly, you’re aware of nails clawing at your arm, then your shoulders, and suddenly you’re shaking. Your mother’s shrill voice racks you, drawing you out of your daze. She raises her hand just as you come to, and you know if you hadn’t awoken when you did, her next move was to slap you across your face. 

But deep in your heart, and maybe because of the whispers still ringing in your ears, you know that wouldn’t have happened. The forest sent you back to her before she had the chance. The forest protected you.

It’s the autumn after your twenty-eighth birthday, and you’re packing up boxes, taping across the seams at the top, and stacking them beside to your apartment door.

“Felix…” You warn your tuxedo cat. “Don’t even think about it.” The boxes are stacked precariously, and he’s known for his uncanny ability to find the weak spot in every piece of cardboard he’s ever met. 

He’s a rescue, and a bit of an asshole, but he won you over with his big green eyes the minute you saw him at the pet shop. He heeds your warning, instead stalking toward you and climbing into the hole in your lap where your criss-cross-applesauce position leaves a void. You rest your palm on his head and let him nuzzle against your hand.

“You ready to go, buddy?” You coo at him, and he purrs, like he approves of the entire uprooting of your life. “That makes one of us.”

A shaky hand hovers above the doorknob; you’re hesitant to go inside. You’ve not been back since your father died and they sent your mother to her permanent inpatient stay at a psychiatric facility. Thankfully, you were eighteen at the time and no one had to be your keeper. So you picked up and moved halfway across the country under the guise of just being a normal high school graduate going to college.

It’s late, and you’re grateful that you thought to call and have the town’s handyman install a motion light on the front porch. Already fumbling with Felix’s carrier, you don’t have a spare hand to hold your phone for a flashlight along with finding the right key for the front door.

Once you reach the door and flip through four keys before settling on the correct one, you shove the old wood with your hip and it creaks open, like it’s reluctant to let you back inside. Tossing your keys onto the table beside the door, you run your hand along the wall for the light switch. When you find it, the yellow glow of the globe light on the ceiling illuminates the room. A shiver runs up your spine. 

Nothing has changed.

The walls are still the same weird shade of pink, floral wallpaper trim wrapping around the entirety of the room along the top of every wall. The plaid couches, somehow also floral - what was with your mother and flowers? - sit dusty, in the same place they’ve been for two decades. You set down the cat carrier and puff out a breath as you look around.

You eventually empty your hard-side cooler into the fridge, having packed the bare minimum to make it through the weekend before you have to travel into town and grocery shop. Heaving your bags up the steps, you haphazardly throw them into your childhood bedroom and shudder as the dolls in the corner catch your eye. Your mother allowed you to change a few things as you aged out of dolls, but according to her, they were a family heirloom, so you were required to keep them perched somewhere in your room. As if a seventeen-year-old girl cares about a family heirloom. 

You decide the boxes of dishes, countertop appliances, pantry-type food, can wait until the daylight eases your mind tomorrow. You strip the old sheets off your twin-size bed and replace them with the new set you purchased at Target before civilization dwindled to practically nothing as you neared your hometown. Topping the bed off with your favorite throw blanket, you settle in for the night, Felix wrapped around himself in the crook of your knees. Your eyes find the window, illuminated by the light of the almost-full moon. Even from the comfort of your bed, you see the treetops silhouetted against the night sky. The forest is waiting for you.

You stand on the crumbling bricks just outside the door, closing your eyes as the morning sun threatens to take the chill from the air. Swallowing after a slow sip of coffee, you inhale deeply through your nose. There’s something about the smell, the trees and the fallen, dead leaves, the dirt you know is crawling with the same earthworms you used to dig up before going fishing with Mr. Walter Smith from next door. It all swirls and combines as you take your deep breath in, and all at once you’re hit with the smell of home.

You realize then that you’ve left the brick patio, like your feet have moved without your approval. You’re standing at the fence, two decades old and still standing just as strong as the day it was built, which has you giving silent kudos to your father’s craftsmanship. Clutching the porcelain mug between your palms, you glance up. The trees have grown, somehow now even more looming and paralyzing than they were when you yourself were two feet shorter. 

After looking at the trees for what seems like an eternity, you gasp. You’re standing in the exact same spot you stood on that first day, where the sounds of the forest pulled you in and hooked their claws into you, keeping you addicted to knowing what truly lay beyond the boundaries of your yard.

That day, the voices swirled - the whispers, the quiet giggling, the gentle caress of someone beckoning you in, a soft “come here” lingering in your ear. Today, standing where your feet have stood countless times before, you’re nauseous. Something is very, very wrong.

It’s silent.

In the new, eerie quiet, you hear footsteps approach to your right, crunching against the dead, brown grass, littered with yellowed leaves. The hair on the back of your neck stand at attention, goosebumps prickling the skin of your arms. Letting out a shaky, almost silent breath, you shift your weight and spin on your heel, throwing a punch in the direction of the-

“Whoa, easy!” His voice booms with a chuckle as he catches your fist in his palm. “Okay, noted. Don’t sneak up on the new neighbor.”

His words hit you. New neighbor.

He has no idea the history of this house, these woods, you. 

You wrench your hand out of his grasp and pull it back to your side.

“Who are you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Moved in a couple years ago. I thought they were talkin’ about tearing this place down.” He nods in the direction of the house - your house.

“They - they were.” You swallow hard at the thought of losing the only real home you’ve ever known. “That’s why I came back.”

He draws back, brows furrowed. “Came back?”

“This is my house.” You glance at the back door. “I grew up here.”

His eyes follow your gaze to the window on the second floor - your childhood bedroom. When he brings his stare back to meet yours, he finds your eyes filled with unshed tears. Clearing his throat, he brings you back to reality.

“Sorry.” You wipe hastily at your eyes and shake off your emotions. “Um, anyway, you said you moved in? Moved in where exactly?”

He points to the house next door, to the Smith’s house, which you only now realize has been repainted, the shutters now a sage green while the house itself is a dusty shade of gray, all the trim and accents painted dark green. It’s beautiful, and you take a second to let it sink in that the house almost perfectly matches the colors of the forest.

The silent forest.

“Have they been doing any construction around here?” You can’t help but ask. Maybe they’re cutting down trees, disturbing whatever - whoever - lives in the forest. Maybe the voices are hiding.

Your neighbor shakes his head and frowns. “Not that I know of, and in a town this small-”

“Everybody knows everything.” You both finish the sentence in unison.

“You must’ve met Marge.” You let yourself smile fondly at the memory of Marge Wilson.

“How do you live here without meeting Marge?” He laughs.

“Man, she’s gotta be… ninety now?” Your eyes widen.

“Eighty-seven last week, actually. And still at the diner every morning.” His smile seems warm as he thinks of the sweet old lady who can’t manage to keep her nose out of anyone’s business, and always knows everything going on in Milford. 

Milford, where almost nothing has changed since you left a decade ago. Nothing except the brewery on Main Street, next door to a Starbucks. Nothing except the tattoo shops boasting fine line artwork instead of heavy-handed barbed wire tattoos. Nothing except the new neighbor mowing Mr. Walter Smith’s lawn. Nothing except everything about you. Nothing except the voices.

“Did it look like they were bringing machines in?” He breaks your train of thought, referring back to your question about construction. 

“No, no. Nothing like that.” You shake your head. “Forget it.”

He shrugs. “Well, anyway. It was nice meeting you. Just wanted to check in and make sure you were okay. I thought I heard glass break while I was on my way out.” His eyes fall to the shattered mug at your feet. 

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I’m good.” Your gaze darts to the treeline.

“Something in there?” He quirks a brow and chills leach through your body.

“N- no.” You stammer.

“Not anymore.” His tone is stern, knowing, and you can physically feel the blood drain from your face. You turn to look at him. He gives you a single nod, finally extending his arm to shake your hand, and it washes over you that you’re about to get a lot more than you asked for by moving back here.

“I’ve got some coffee on, c’mon over.” He nods toward the green house. “I think you’ve got a bit to catch up on.” Your hand, again shaking, reaches out and finds purchase in his grasp. “Name’s Dean.”

Prompt - You’ve gotten used to the voices you hear in the forest near your house. You’ve grown up with them. One day, however, there is only silence.

Feedback?

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[nancymcl]

Roots in my dreamland

Dean Winchester x Forest Spirit!Reader

Summary: Dean encounters a mysterious forest spirit who’s an enigma.

Loosely based ivy by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: unprotected SMUT (bring protection with yourself, yes, even to a forest), P in V, mentions of being naked in the snow, fingering, crack ending, grammar mistakes galore.

The wind howled through the towering trees, winter’s chill clinging to the air as Dean wandered deeper and deeper into the forest. He wasn’t sure why he kept on going on this path. There were no signs of danger, no clear trail to follow, yet something kept dragging him in. It felt ancient here, in this part of the forest, like time itself was buried in these moss-covered grounds.

The reports of strange occurrences in the area had led him here in the first place: people disappearing, then reappearing with no memory of where they’d been. Dean had taken it as another case, another monster to hunt… but what he found instead was something he didn’t understand, and certainly something he couldn’t really fight.

He had found her.

His steps slowed as he reached the edge of a small clearing. The pale light of the crescent moon covered everything in a soft, silvery glow, casting shadows on the ice frozen ground. And there she was, standing just beyond the oak trees, her figure nearly blending into the darkness of the brusque, winter night.

She looked at him as if she’d been waiting.

She always did.

Dean didn’t know her name. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what she was. Her skin glimmered, like the moonlight itself was part of her, and her eyes – deep and dark, just like the forest itself – held some sort of timelessness in them. Every time he saw her, he felt like something inside him was growing, something he couldn’t quite control.

“Why do you keep showing up?” he asked, his voice rough, soaked in frustration. “Every time I get close to leaving this place behind, I—” He broke off, his mind going momentarily frigid in the air. “I come back.”

Her gaze softened ever so slightly as she took a cautious step toward him with her bare feet leaving no mark in the snow. She was now close enough that he could feel the soft glow of her skin radiating off her eternal warmness and the unusual flowers threaded in her locks. “Maybe it’s because you belong here more than you think.”

Dean’s chest tightened. Belong? He didn’t belong anywhere, least of all here in this strange, enchanted place. But he couldn’t deny that every time he saw her, a part of him felt like it was coming home.

“You need to let me go” he whispered, though his feet stayed rooted to their spot.

Her gaze softened, and for a moment, she looked almost sad. “You can’t fight what’s already growing inside you.” she said quietly. Her hand lifted, brushing gently against his cheek. The warmth of her touch like fire beneath his skin.

Dean stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. “What is this?” he rasped with eyes wide, his hand instinctively catching hers, holding it against his face. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to pull her closer or push her away. “Why can’t I…?”

She smiled softly, but there was an edge of sorrow in her eyes. “You’ve planted your roots here” she whispered. “And so have I.”

He didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t want to believe that he was tied to this place — to her — but the truth of her words cut deeper than any blade. And he had his fair share of experience with those. Every time he tried to walk away, she pulled him back, and no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t seem to break free.

“I– I can’t stay here. This…” He gestured to the forest around them, then to her. “This isn’t me.”

“I know.” she said simply. But she didn’t move away. She stood there, her eyes searching his, like she was waiting for him to make a choice he didn’t know how to make. Dean’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts of all the things he was supposed to be doing, all the people he was supposed to be saving. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t keep coming back. And yet…

“I don’t want to leave..” he admitted, the words falling from his lips before he could stop them. His hand tightened around hers, his thumb brushing over her skin. “I can’t.”

She leaned into him then, her body soft and warm against his. Her fingers traced the line of his clean-shaven jaw. “Then don’t” she whispered, her breath hot against his neck. He groaned, the weight of everything crashing over him at once. His responsibilities, the danger, the distance between their worlds (whatever her world was in the first place), none of it mattered right now. The only thing that mattered was her.

“I’m already in too deep” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “You’re in my head, in my damn dreams. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop coming back right here. To you. I can’t keep my distance from you.”

“I know” she said, her lips ghosting over his. “I feel it too.”

Before he could think, before he could stop himself, his mouth was on hers, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her closer. The kiss was raw, desperate, like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground. Her body pressed against his, soft and warm and so right, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t care about the consequences. Only the ethereal feeling of her silky skin against the palm of his hand and the velvet of her lips. She kissed him back with the same intensity, her hands tangling in his hair as they stumbled back, their bodies melding together. He could feel the heat rising between them, the fire building in his chest as he lost himself in her…completely, utterly, involuntarily lost. 

They sank to the icy forest floor, the snowy moss cool beneath them as they tumbled into each other’s arms. Though, somehow, Dean didn’t feel cold. He didn’t feel his skin being affected by winter’s brusque. Her hands trailed patterns over him, her touch so incredibly soft, almost like a ghost, but it magically made his body immune to the weather. He responded with equal vehemence, his lips trailing down her neck, tasting the woodsy warmth of her skin.

“Dean” she whispered, her voice trembling with need, but there was something else there too, something fragile, like she was holding back. “You need to–”

“No” he cut her off, his voice rough. “I don’t want to think about it. Not now.”

She hesitated, her breath hitching as his hands moved lower, pulling her closer. “But you’ll have to leave.”

Dean’s movements stilled, her words slicing through his hazy state of desire. She was right. He would have to leave. This, whatever the hell this was, couldn’t last. He didn’t belong in her world, and she didn’t belong in his.

But for now, he didn’t care.

“For tonight” he murmured, his lips brushing over hers, “Just– please.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his, and after a long moment, she nodded as a sign of her silent agreement. They moved together again, slower this time, like they were savoring every moment, every touch, every warm glow of her hand on his skin. The world outside the forest faded away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the soft gleam of moonlight, the ancient trees standing tall silent around them.

Dean kissed her lips slowly, his mind completely fogged by need. He didn’t know her, didn’t understand exactly what she was, but none of that mattered now. Not in this moment. Not when every part of him was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain, couldn’t fight. Just for tonight, he let himself get lost in her. His hands found their way to her soft, leaf-woven dress, fingers trailing along the strange fabric that did a sinfully poor job at hiding her curves. As he slid his hands down her waist, her lips parted in a heavenly moan, a testament of her sharing the same need as him. His fingers traced slow and purposeful patterns along her upper thigh, teasing her skin beneath the hem of her skirt (or whatever magical leaf-dress she was wearing). Their breath met halfway as she arched into him, her hands gripping his shoulders as he kissed down her neck, tasting the warmth of her otherworldly pulse beneath his lips. 

He leaned back slightly, looking into her eyes, feeling the gravity of the moment settle around the pair. “I want you” he murmured. He really did. He had no idea how, why or who, to be frank, but he craved her.

Her lashes fluttered as she struggled to look into his emerald green orbs. It was just like the forest.  “Then take me” she whispered back.

With a slow movement, he pressed her back against the soft, icy moss. The world around them slowly faded as he kissed her again. Deeper this time… pouring all his desire into the action, savoring the taste of her lips, and the way her celestial presence made him feel. His hands explored her body, making it his goal to commit every little line to memory. He wanted to remember this. Her hands slid under his shirt, warm fingers dancing over his skin, fueling the fire in him. He could feel her heat radiating against him and he responded to that by deepening the kiss, wanting to wipe everything out of his memory, except for this.

His fingers were still under her dress, exploring the soft skin of her thighs, inching closer to her honey-soaked pussy. As he finally met her heat, she gasped, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, her body arching against him as an encouragement for him to continue. 

Dean met her gaze, searching for any sign of hesitation, but he saw none. He slowly slid his fingers deeper, feeling her sweet cunt envelop him. Her eyes fluttered shut, and a low moan escaped her lips as he began to move his middle finger in and out. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he couldn’t help but murmur a breathless “You're incredible. So incredibly beautiful. So wet for me already.”

With each thrust of his fingers, he felt her walls clench around him, and eventually he found a rhythm that matched the heartbeat of the forest around them. 

“Dean” she moaned as her nails dug into his shoulders. “I need to feel all of you.”

Amidst hearing that, he captured her lips again, pouring every drop of his need into the kiss. 

He couldn’t wait any longer either. His own need had reached a fever pitch. His fingers slowly slipped out of her core, which earned a whine from her parted lips. He kissed her hard, his tongue sliding against hers as his fingers worked at the button of his jeans, his breath coming in shallow gasps. She was more than happy to help him, her hands quick and eager as she pushed his jeans down over his hips, his painfully hard length springing free from its confinements. He could feel the heat of her body, the way she pulled him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist, not a single thing between them now.

Dean’s hand slid up her thigh, guiding himself to her pussy, and he hesitated for a brief second, meeting her gaze again. Again, there was no doubt in her eyes, only a quiet plea for him to close the distance between them finally. He slid the tip of his cock up and down her sloppy heat a few times before he finally began to ease himself in. He pushed into her slowly, inch by incredible inch, savoring the feel of her cunt hugging him so snug. The soft gasp that escaped her lips as he filled her  was enough to make his cock twitch inside of her. She was tight, and oh, so warm, and every inch of him ached with the need to move, but he forced himself to go slow, to feel every moment, every convulsion of her pussy.

Her hands gripped his back, nails biting into his skin as her hips rose to meet him, her body urging him deeper and deeper – despite his effort to stay calm just for a moment. The feeling of her wrapped around him was almost too much and not enough at the same time. He groaned, his head falling against her shoulder as he pulled out almost all the way before thrusting into her once more, harder this time, losing himself in the way she moved beneath him.

She moaned his name, the sound sent a shiver down his spine. Dean’s pace quickened, his hips moving in time with hers, each thrust deeper, harder, rougher. 

Her fingers tangled in his hair, her lips finding his again as they moved together, the rhythm growing faster, more urgent. Every sound she made, every arch of her back, every gasp and moan spurred him on, driving him closer to the edge.

Dean’s hand slipped between them, finding her clit, and the moment he touched her there, she cried out, her body trembling underneath him as her release hit her, hard and fast.

“Dean, oh my— i’m going to—” and with that, her walls clenched around him, gushing all over his length. Threatening to slip out of her, because of the force of her release, he thrusted himself deeper. And then, he couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I can’t—” and with a low groan, he followed her over the edge, his muscles tensing as his hot, white seed filled her, his hips bucking erratically as he tried to make his orgasm last as long as it is possible. 

For a long-long moment, neither of them dared to mov. Their bodies tangled together, the only sound is their ragged breathing as they came down from their highs. Dean’s forehead rested against hers, their lips brushing in soft, lazy kisses as they lay there, utterly spent.

They lay together in the quiet of the clearing, the warmth of their bodies cutting through the chilly air. Dean stared up at the sky, the stars barely visible through the branches overhead. His heart was still racing, his mind already starting to spin with what would come next. He still had no idea who she was. He still didn’t know if she was the one behind all those strange happenings around the area. 

Then reality crept back in.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Dean blinked, once, twice, his body stiffening. The warmth that had enveloped him was gone, replaced by the biting cold of the winter air. He lifted his head, eyes squinting in confusion as his surroundings snapped back into focus. The enchanted glow, the surreal energy of the forest… all gone. Just the regular, old clearing. And there, standing at the edge of it, was Sam, staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind.

“Dude” Sam started, his voice incredulous, “why the hell are you naked? It’s the middle of winter.”

Dean frowned, slowly realizing his current state. He glanced down at himself, sure enough, he was sprawled out on the cold, snowy moss, wearing nothing but his birthday suit. The warmth of her body and everything that had felt so real was now a distant memory. And yet… he swore it had happened.

“I…” Dean sat up, quickly gathering his clothes from the ground and putting them on, trying to come up with some kind of explanation that didn’t make him sound like a lunatic. “I was, uh… investigating.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Investigating? Naked? In the freezing cold?”

Dean let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’s— It’s a long story.”

“Yeah, well, make it quick, because I’ve been looking for you for an hour, man” Sam grumbled. “What happened? You were supposed to check out the weird stuff going on, not have some naked winter party.”

Dean’s gaze darted around the clearing. She was nowhere to be found, no sign of her leaf-woven dress, her touch, not even a trace of her pinewood scent. It was like she had never been there. The forest felt… ordinary now. The magic, the connection… they all seemed to have vanished with her.

“I’m not sure” Dean admitted, standing up and brushing the snow off his legs, the chill sinking into his bones now that reality was firmly back in place. “There was this… girl. I think.” He paused, frowning. “Maybe?”

“Girl?” Sam’s eyebrow shot up even higher.

“Yeah, I’ve been seeing her for a while now… She was—” Dean gestured vaguely, trying to put words to what had just happened, but it felt harder and harder to grasp the details. “She was real, I think. Or… maybe she wasn’t. She could’ve been some kind of forest spirit. Or maybe I hit my head?” He shrugged, genuinely at a loss. “I don’t know, man.”

Sam shook his head, clearly unimpressed. “So you’re saying you’ve been seeing a girl, possibly not real, and decided to strip naked in the middle of the forest when you saw her once more?”

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it, his frown deepening. “Okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“It is weird, Dean!” Sam exclaimed, motioning around them. “Do you see anyone else here? Anyone at all?”

Dean looked around the clearing again, trying to find any trace of her. There was nothing, just the trees, the snow, and the silent forest. No footprints, no clothes, no evidence that anyone other than him had been there at all. And yet, he could still feel her, the way her body had moved against his, the way her voice had whispered his name in the quiet of the night.

“I swear, it was real” Dean muttered, more to himself than to Sam. “I felt it.”

Sam sighed, getting Dean’s jacket from the ground and tossing it to him. “Whatever you felt, we need to get out of here before you freeze to death. We’ll figure it out later.”

Dean caught the jacket, wrapping it around himself with a huff. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, or if anything had happened at all, but there was still an ache in his chest, a feeling like he’d left something behind in that clearing. Or maybe it had all been in his head. Maybe the forest had cast some kind of spell on him, drawing him into some half-dream state where reality and fantasy blurred together. He wasn’t sure anymore. Was he— was he one of those victims he read about? But why does he remember it then? 

As he followed Sam out of the clearing, Dean glanced back one last time. The trees stood tall and silent, like keeping the secret of the girl’s presence. There was no sign of her. No shimmering figure stepping from the shadows, no soft voice calling him back.

But for just a second, he thought he saw something. — a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a faint, glowing shimmer in the air.

He shook his head. Maybe he was imagining it. Or maybe… just maybe… she'd been real after all.

Sam glanced over at him, frowning. “Dean, you okay? You look… weird.”

Dean smirked, pulling the jacket tighter around him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… wondering if I’m gonna need therapy after this.”

Sam groaned. “Probably. Come on, let’s get you some dry clothes before you start hallucinating snow fairy porn again.”

Dean chuckled, though his mind lingered on the thought. Snow fairies, huh? He wouldn’t put it past the universe.

But as he walked away, he couldn’t help but wonder — had it been real? Or had it just been a fever dream? He’d never know for sure. But either way… he wasn’t complaining.

"Next time, though" he muttered under his breath, "I’m bringing a blanket."

I had so much fun writing this (especially the ending)🤭

Let me know what you think. And have a nice day!🤍

[nancymcl]

I Remember It🧣

Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Reader has been thinking a lot about her past relationship with Jensen, and she wishes things could have ended differently

Inspired by the Song All Too Well (Taylor’s Version) bold/italic text: song lyrics

Warnings: language, light smut, emotional vulnerability, sexual themes.

Reader’s POV

It’s been months, but I still think about him every single day. Jensen Ackles—my Jensen—was everything I wanted. Until he wasn’t. I never thought we’d fall apart like this, that I’d be left holding pieces of a love so strong it could shatter me. But now here I am, sitting in my quiet apartment, listening to “All Too Well (Taylor’s Version)” and staring at the old scarf I wore the day we met.

“I left my scarf there, and you’ve still got it in your drawer even now…”

The words of Taylor’s song hit me right where it hurts the most. God, it was so stupidly perfect, the way we’d fallen for each other. I can still remember the way his hands felt on my body, his touch slow and deliberate, the way his lips would trace along my neck. The way he’d make me feel like I was the center of his world. He’d whisper things in my ear, dirty words that would set me on fire, make me crave him even more.

“Y/N, baby, you drive me wild…” he’d say, his voice low and husky, right before he’d kiss me, deep and consuming, pulling me into a world where nothing else existed but us.

And I gave everything to him. I wanted to drown in him, in his love, his touch, his passion. But looking back, maybe that was the problem. I gave him too much of myself, and he took it without realizing just how fragile I was. How fragile we both were.

“You call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest.”

God, how that line hits me every time. He didn’t mean to break me, but he did. One night, after another fight, he just… walked away. He said we needed space, that we were moving too fast. But what he really meant was that I wasn’t enough to keep him grounded, to keep him here.

My heart still aches when I think about the last time we were together. We had one of those rare moments where everything was perfect again. We were tangled up in the sheets, my body pressed against his, our breaths heavy and shallow. He whispered my name in that deep, raspy voice, his fingers tracing my curves like he was memorizing every inch of me. I kissed him then, slowly, letting him know I wasn’t ready to let go, that I would always want more.

His lips were soft against mine, tasting like the whiskey we’d been drinking. He bit my bottom lip gently, making me moan into his mouth, and then he chuckled. That low, sexy sound that used to make me melt. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice dark, teasing, the way he always did when he knew he had me.

I did. God, I loved it. I loved every second of being with him.

But I knew in that moment that it was slipping away. Even as we touched, as we kissed and lost ourselves in the heat of the moment, I could feel it—the distance growing between us. The way he would pull back, emotionally, even as his hands pulled me closer physically.

“And maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up.” I whisper the words to myself, feeling the tears burn my eyes. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe I was too much for him, and he wasn’t ready for all I had to give.

I wish I could say it didn’t still hurt, but it does. Every time I close my eyes, I see him, smell him, taste him. I remember the way his breath would catch when I touched him, the way he’d look at me like I was his entire world. And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

I wipe my tears and grab the scarf, pulling it to my chest. It still smells like him, faintly, like leather and cologne. I wonder if he ever thinks about me, if he ever regrets walking away. Does he still have my scarf? Does he ever pull it out of the drawer and think about what we could have been?

Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it, I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.

The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again. Loving Jensen changed me, broke me in ways I never expected. But I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret loving him, even if it still hurts like hell.

I close my eyes and lean back against the couch, the scarf wrapped tightly around my fingers, remembering the love that was once ours. And even though I wish things had ended differently, I can’t help but smile through the tears, because for a moment, I had him. I had him all too well.

It’s been weeks since I last thought of Jensen. Or at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. But deep down, I knew I never really let him go. The pain has softened into a dull ache, but it’s still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

I’m curled up on the couch, sipping coffee, wearing his old flannel—yeah, I know, pathetic—when I hear a knock at the door. My heart skips a beat. I’m not expecting anyone, and for a split second, I think maybe it’s Victoria. But when I open the door, I nearly drop my mug.

It’s him. Jensen, standing there, looking exactly the way I remember him. His piercing green eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly, I’m transported back to all those moments we shared. The nights filled with whispered promises, stolen kisses, and passion that felt too big for either of us to handle.

“Y/N,” he breathes my name like a prayer, his voice low and strained. I can see the weight of everything hanging between us, the words unsaid, the pain we caused each other. “I—I know I don’t deserve to be here, but I had to see you.”

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself from the whirlwind of emotions rushing in. “Why now, Jensen? After everything, why are you here?”

He steps closer, his eyes filled with regret. “I messed up. I know I hurt you, and it’s taken me too damn long to admit that. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—about us.”

My throat tightens, and I struggle to hold back the tears. “You walked away, Jensen. You left me here, broken. And now you just show up and expect what? For me to forget all of that?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture that once made me weak in the knees. “I know I can’t undo the past. I wish I could. But I need you to know, I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Part of me wants to slam the door in his face, tell him to leave and never come back. But another part—the part that still loves him, still aches for him—won’t let me.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He takes another step toward me, close enough that I can smell his familiar scent—leather, whiskey, and something distinctly Jensen. “Let me prove it to you,” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “Please, Y/N. Let me show you that I’m not going anywhere this time.”

I can’t help but look away, my heart hammering in my chest. The memories of him are overwhelming—the good, the bad, all of it. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But then I feel his fingers gently touch my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze.

“I never should have left you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You were everything to me, and I was too scared to admit it. I was an idiot, and I didn’t deserve you then. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I do now, if you’ll give me the chance.”

His lips hover close to mine, and despite every defense I’ve built, I can feel myself leaning into him. “Jensen…” I whisper, my voice breaking.

He closes the distance between us, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that’s both desperate and familiar. The world fades away, and all I can feel is him—his hands in my hair, his body pressing against mine, the heat between us igniting instantly. It’s like no time has passed, like we’ve been waiting for this moment all along.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes against my lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands slide down my back, gripping me possessively as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine. I moan softly, giving in to the fire that’s been burning in me for him all this time.

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts. “I want you, Tianna. I always have. I never stopped wanting you. But it’s not just that. I need you. I need us.”

His words make me tremble, and I know I’m already too far gone to push him away. I’ve wanted this—wanted him—for so long. But I can’t let him break me again. I need to be sure.

“You hurt me, Jensen,” I whisper, my voice shaking as the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over. “You left me, and I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

He cups my face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I know, baby. I know. And I swear to you, I will never hurt you like that again. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes—it’s too much. My defenses crumble, and before I can stop myself, I’m kissing him again, hard and desperate, like I’ve been starving for him all this time. He responds with equal intensity, his hands roaming my body, pulling me against him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

We stumble backward into my apartment, lips never breaking contact, and I’m lost in him again. Lost in the heat, the passion, the love that never really faded.

As we collapse onto the couch, his body pressing me into the cushions, I know this time it’s different. This time, he’s here to stay. And maybe—just maybe—we can pick up the pieces of what we lost.

“And I remember it all too well…”, and so does he.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story! It’s been in my drafts FOREVER, and I’m so glad I finally got the chance to post it. And also if this song doesn’t make you cry then are you even human ??? 😭Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

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[nancymcl]

You Belong With Me (Dean’s Version)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x You

Summary: POV - Dean sees you walking down the street with your new boyfriend and doesn’t like what he sees 🥺 ( this was a request that I was tagged in by @jackles010378 )

Warnings: language, spicy moments, jealousy , angst, possessiveness, emotional vulnerability, mentions of toxic relationship.

Pre Authors Note: BTW I needed to use this gif because it just does something to me like 🥵😩😭 I’m so down bad for this man it’s ridiculous — anyways happy reading!! 🫶🏻

Dean’s POV

I leaned against the Impala, arms crossed, sunglasses low on my nose as I watched you walk down the street, hand in hand with him. Some preppy guy, clean-shaven, all smiles, like he didn’t have a care in the world. My gut twisted the second I saw you laughing at something he said.

Damn, that laugh. That smile. It used to be mine.

You looked happy, but I knew better. There was something off, something I couldn’t put my finger on, and it gnawed at me. He wasn’t right for you, not by a long shot. Maybe it was the way he touched you—too casual, too cocky—or the fact that he didn’t even notice when your smile faltered.

I took a long drag from my beer, eyes still locked on you. When you passed by, our gazes met. Yours lingered on me for just a second too long before you quickly looked away. Yeah, you felt it too. That pull. That spark that had never really gone away, no matter how much you tried to hide it.

A week later, I saw you again, sitting on a park bench, alone this time. The sky was overcast, like it was about to rain, but you didn’t seem to care. I noticed the way your shoulders shook, the soft sobs you tried to stifle. My chest tightened, and I couldn’t stand it.

I slid onto the bench next to you, silent for a moment before speaking. “Hey.”

You looked up, your tear-streaked face breaking me. “Dean…”

“Where’s he?” I asked, not even bothering to hide the bitterness in my voice.

You shook your head, wiping your cheeks. “We broke up.”

My heart surged with something I didn’t want to name, but my fists clenched as you kept talking.

“He was an asshole. Treated me like… like I didn’t even matter half the time.” Your voice cracked, and I could see how much it hurt to admit that. “I should’ve known.”

“I knew,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

Your head snapped up, eyes widening. “What?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I could tell. The way he looked at you, the way he acted… He didn’t deserve you.”

You blinked, processing my words, and then something shifted. There was this tension hanging between us, thick and electric, the kind you couldn’t ignore. I reached out, cupping your cheek gently, my thumb brushing away a tear.

“I would never treat you like that,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “You know that, right?”

Your breath hitched, eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment, the whole world fell away. It was just us—just you and me—and the way your lips parted, your gaze flicking down to my mouth, told me everything I needed to know.

I leaned in slowly, giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you met me halfway, your lips soft, warm, and perfect against mine. The second we kissed, everything else vanished. All the frustration, the jealousy, the anger—I poured it all into that kiss, into the way I pulled you closer, needing to feel you against me.

You whimpered into my mouth, fingers threading through my hair, and God, that sound—made me lose it. My hand slid to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, and when you pressed your body into mine, I could barely keep it together.

I pulled back slightly, resting my forehead against yours, breath heavy. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Your lips curved into a shaky smile, but there was still that uncertainty in your eyes. “Dean… I don’t want to just be a rebound.”

I shook my head. “You think this is a rebound? Babe, I’ve been wanting you for years. This… this is way past that.”

You bit your lip, that little hint of doubt fading as I kissed you again, harder this time. You moaned softly, and I couldn’t help myself.

“You deserve better,” I growled against your lips, my hands roaming your sides. “You deserve someone who’ll treat you like the goddamn queen you are.”

Your breath was ragged, fingers clutching at my jacket as I nipped at your lower lip. “And you think that’s you?”

“I know it’s me.” My voice was dark, low, the kind that made your whole body shudder. “You belong with me, sweetheart. No one else is gonna give you what you need.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes heavy-lidded as you stared at me. “Show me.”

And hell, did I ever.

A few days had passed since that kiss, but it was all I could think about. You had to know you were driving me crazy—every time we crossed paths, there was that look in your eyes, like you wanted more but weren’t sure if you should ask for it.

I was about to give you more than you ever expected.

We met again that night, under the same damn streetlight where I first saw you with him. Only this time, it was just us, no distractions.

“You look like you’ve got something to say,” you teased, leaning back against the hood of the Impala, your eyes gleaming under the dim light.

I took a step closer, then another, until I was right in front of you, crowding your space. “I do.”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t move, didn’t back down. “Yeah? What’s that?”

I ran a finger down your arm, watching the way your skin prickled beneath my touch. “That I’m done pretending. I want you, Y/N. I’ve wanted you for a long damn time.”

Your lips parted, but before you could say anything, I grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against me. The kiss that followed wasn’t soft like the first one—it was hard, desperate, and filled with everything I’d been holding back for too damn long.

You gasped into my mouth as my hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, your waist, everything I could reach. You melted against me, your fingers curling into my shirt as I deepened the kiss, my teeth grazing your lower lip before I tugged it, just hard enough to make you whimper.

“Dean,” you whispered, breathless, and that was all it took for me to lose control. I lifted you onto the hood of the Impala, pushing between your thighs as you wrapped your legs around me, pulling me closer.

“Damn, sweetheart,” I growled against your neck, trailing rough kisses along your skin. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You tilted your head back, giving me more access as I pressed open-mouthed kisses along your throat. “Then show me, Dean. I’m yours.”

And I did. Every single inch of you. Every kiss, every touch, every moan—it all belonged to me now.

Author’s Note

Hope you enjoyed this story! Thank you @jackles010378 for this suggestion, I def loved writing it! Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

Like & follow for more !! Xoxo

Want to read more? Check out my other stories!

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[nancymcl]

[nancymcl]

Jensen talking about JJ missing him | DC Convention, September 22, 2024 [Rose_ackles_]

[nancymcl]

A Surprise for a Special Day

Characters: Jensen x reader

Warnings: None, just a fluffy story

A/N: This is just a quick birthday story for my sweet friend, @cheekygirl2309. Happy Birthday, sweetie. 😀

The sun was just beginning its descent, casting long shadows across the city, as you made your way home from work. Today was your birthday, a day you had been eagerly anticipating for weeks. Usually, Jensen would be by your side, showering you with love and affection. But this year, he was across the country, filming his latest project.

A small party had been planned by your colleagues, but as you stepped into your apartment, the weight of his absence settled over you. you missed his laughter, his touch, his reassuring presence. You tried calling him, but there was no answer. you figured he was on set and couldn't talk.

As you walked into our shared home, you noticed a soft glow emanating from the kitchen. Curiosity piqued, you ventured closer. To your astonishment, the kitchen was transformed into a romantic haven. Candles flickered, casting a warm, inviting light, and a beautifully set table awaited you. And there, sitting at the head of the table, was Jensen, looking impeccably dressed in a suit.

Your heart pounded as you took in the scene. He had flown all the way across the country to be with you on your special day. A wave of relief and joy washed over you as you approached him. He stood, a smile spreading across his face.

"Happy birthday, my love," he said, his voice filled with warmth.

You gasped, unable to believe your eyes. “Jensen! You’re home.” You threw your arms around his neck and he pulled you into a soft kiss. “Hey, darlin’, I couldn’t stand missing your birthday. I had to take some time to see you. I know I’ve been so busy lately with filming and conventions, but I had to make sure my best girl knew how much I love her.” 

You smiled and blushed, “Thank you baby. You didn’t have to fly all the way out here.” Jensen cupped your face, “Yes I did, baby. It’s your birthday and I need to be here.” 

The two of you sat down at the table and began eating the delicious meal Jensen had prepared for you. “Jensen, honey, this is delicious.” You said as you took a bite. He smiled, “Well, make sure you save room for dessert, I got you your favorite cake and some ice cream.” 

“Wow, Jens, you really thought of everything.” The two of you sat and enjoyed your meal, stealing glances across the table and in between bites. 

After the two of you finished eating, Jensen cleared the table and brought out your cake. He put in a single candle and lit it. “Make a wish baby and blow out the candle.” You closed your eyes, made your wish and blew out the candle. 

Jensen pulled you up and flush with his body, and placed a searing kiss on your lips. “I love you, sweetheart.” “I love you too, Jensen. How about we take this party into our bedroom, I’ve missed you so much.” 

Jensen grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the bedroom. You were giggling all the way there. Once in the room, Jensen closed the door to the room and pulled you close to him. He kissed down your body as you both shed your clothes. 

“I missed you so much, sweetheart. I missed your lips, and your body.” You moaned into his mouth and melted into his touch. “I missed you, Jensen.” As Jensen laid you back on the bed he took his time with you. Each touch is gentle and electrifying. Jensen was memorizing every inch of your body like it was the last time he was going to be with you. 

As the evening wore on Jensen and you made love over and over. As exhaustion started to take over you and Jensen laid in each other’s arms. “When do you have to go back, Jens?” “The day after tomorrow, unfortunately.” 

You sighed, “At least I have you for a day.” “You have me forever, my love. Why don’t you come with me to set? Take some time off from work and come spend some time with me in California. You’ll love it there, and you’ll be with me.”  

“Really? You want me to go with you?” “Of course I do. Only if you want to.” “I do, Jensen. I really do. I can’t wait to see you in your element.” “Good! Now, I have one more present to give you.” 

“Jensen, you didn’t have to get me anything. Honestly, coming home was the best gift ever.” Jensen kissed your lips softly, “Nope, this will be the best gift ever. Trust me.” 

Jensen climbed out of bed and got a birthday bag and handed it to you.

You giggled when you saw Jensen’s giddy expression. He bounced up and down, “Open it up sweetheart.” 

You chuckled as you started to open the bag. Inside the bag were some of your favorite things. Your favorite, perfume, lotion, chocolate, popcorn, and at the bottom of the bag were two wrapped boxes. 

Jensen told you to open up the one wrapped in blue first. You opened it and gasped, Jensen bought you a beautiful necklace that had your’s and his birthstones in it. “Oh Jensen, it’s beautiful, thank you.” He smiled and nodded. 

The next one was wrapped in red. “Want me to open this one?” You grinned. “Yes, baby, please.” You carefully opened the other package. Once unwrapped, you carefully opened the box. Inside was a single solitary diamond. You gasped, looking at Jensen speechless.

Jensen was smiling and dropped to one knee. “I love you so much, Y/N. I know it’s cheesy to ask you this on your birthday, but I couldn’t think of a better day to ask, so, Y/N Y/L/N will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?

You threw your arms around him and kissed his lips, whispering against his lips, “Yes!, 1000 times yes!.” He chuckled as he slid the diamond on your finger. “I love you, baby. Happy Birthday!.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, tears, and stolen kisses. You realized that even though distance could sometimes be challenging, love could conquer it all. And you were grateful to have Jensen, your greatest love, by your side.

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