thestoriesfold

[thestoriesfold]

You Always Come Back Bloody

Sam Winchester x Reader | 3.2k | Early Seasons | One-Shot

“You took down a wendigo alone and still had the energy to argue with me bleeding out. Yeah. You’re special.”

Summary:

A rough hunt goes sideways, and you’re the one who walks out bloody this time. Sam patches you up like always—but something��s different. Something cracks open. And when it does, he’s gentle, even when he’s not. (Slow burn → soft smut → lowkey emotional breakdown.)

18+ explicit content, smut, oral (f receiving, implied anatomy), p in v, blood/injury (non-graphic), hurt/comfort, soft rough sex, forehead-to-forehead intensity, feelings getting felt, canon-level language, mutual pining breaking point

Just keeping my loves happy while I work on the next chapter of my series.

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You always knew hunts could go sideways. You just didn’t think it’d be this sideways.

The warehouse reeked of rotting meat and rusted metal, blood thick in the air—some of it yours, some of it the monster’s. The wendigo had been faster than expected, a little smarter too. You’d landed the killing blow—machete through the sternum, fire to finish the job—but not before it swiped hard at your side.

Now, half-leaning on Sam, you stumbled out, stubbornly refusing to let him carry you.

“I’m fine,” you hissed, wincing as he helped you into the backseat of the Impala.

Sam ignored that lie, jaw clenched so tight you could almost hear his teeth grind. “You’re bleeding through your shirt, Y/N. Try again.”

He didn’t yell. He never yelled—not like Dean. But that soft fury? That was worse. It was disappointment and panic and helplessness all tangled in one breath.

Your lips twitched. “You worried about me, Winchester?”

He met your eyes, and for a second there was nothing but the heavy sound of your breath and the scent of smoke clinging to his flannel.

“You could’ve died.”

So could he, a hundred times over. But you didn’t say that. You just let the silence answer.

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The motel bathroom was dim and peeling, but it would do.

Sam was gentle as he peeled your jacket off, slower still when he lifted your shirt, fingers brushing the blood-wet cotton clinging to your skin.

“Fuck,” he muttered—not at you, but at the jagged gash just below your ribs. His voice dropped. “You should’ve waited for backup.”

You scoffed. “You were busy getting tossed through a damn wall. Didn’t seem like waiting was gonna help.”

That earned you a look, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he knelt in front of you, first aid kit already open. He pressed a clean towel to the wound, and you hissed through your teeth, knuckles white on the counter behind you.

“Sorry,” he murmured, like he meant it.

“You patch me up after every other hunt,” you said, voice light despite the pain. “You ever think maybe I like it? Getting banged up just so I can get your hands on me?”

He glanced up, mouth parted like he might actually say something back. But he didn’t.

You let it hang there. No teasing. No grin.

You were both quiet as he cleaned the wound, dabbed on antiseptic, and started stitching. He was good at it—too good. You tried not to flinch, tried not to shake. But the pain was real, and the adrenaline was fading.

“Almost done,” Sam said, and when you nodded, he paused. “Hey—look at me.”

You did. He was close. So close you could see the stubble starting on his jaw, the pinched worry between his brows.

“Don’t do that again,” he said. “Don’t scare me like that.”

There was something breaking in his voice, something fragile underneath all that strength.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered.

“I know.” His hand came up, slow, tentative—fingertips brushing a blood-smeared strand of hair from your cheek. “I just—I can’t lose you too.”

Too.

That slammed into your chest like a freight train. Jess. Dean. His father. He’d already lost too damn much.

You reached for him, one hand at the nape of his neck, and pulled him into you.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing like the fight you just survived.

But it didn’t stay soft for long.

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He kissed you slow at first—mouth trailing from your lips to your jaw, down your neck, until you were arching under him. His hands skimmed your thighs, thumbs rubbing slow circles, not rushing a damn thing.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured, voice low and rough at your waist. “Just… let me.”

You nodded, already breathless, and he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed like he was praying. Hands gentle, he helped you out of the last of your clothes, his gaze never leaving your face.

When he lowered his mouth to you, it wasn’t rushed or showy—it was thorough. Focused. Sam.

One arm wrapped under your thigh to hold you steady while the other rested lightly across your belly, close to the bandage, like a promise not to go too far.

He was slow at first. Patient. Like he was figuring out every reaction, learning what made your breath hitch, what made your fingers clench in the sheets. When you whispered his name, half-caught between a plea and a moan, he groaned into you like he was the one unraveling.

And when he brought his fingers into it—just enough, just right—you broke.

Soft cries, shaking thighs, your hand gripping his hair like you’d float away if you didn’t anchor yourself to him.

He didn’t stop until you were pulling at his shoulders, overwhelmed. When he rose over you again, lips slick, pupils blown wide, he looked like he’d seen God.

“Still with me?” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours.

You nodded, dazed. “You’re not human.”

He laughed, and it was quiet, smug, stupidly fond. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

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He lined himself up, slow and careful, giving you time to pull away—but you didn’t. You tilted your hips, and he sank in.

You both gasped. The air between you thickened.

He moved slow at first. Rolling thrusts, deep and deliberate, his hand tangled in yours above your head.

Your nose brushed his. You could barely keep your eyes open, but you did—because he was right there, watching you fall apart underneath him.

“Fuck, Sam,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulder. “Harder—please—”

He groaned and picked up the pace, the rhythm turning rough—but never cruel. He was still holding you like you might shatter. Still whispering your name between kisses.

You pulled him closer, foreheads pressed, his hair brushing your cheeks. Your lips met again in a soft, breathless kiss, broken by every thrust.

“You’re okay,” he panted. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” you moaned. “I’m yours.”

That broke him.

He drove into you harder, pace erratic, fingers clenching the sheets beside your head. You came undone first, a cry tearing from your throat as your body tightened around him.

He followed with a growl—low and guttural—burying himself deep as he finished, forehead still resting against yours.

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You stayed like that. Skin to skin, breath mingling. His body carefully braced so he didn’t press against your injury, one hand cradling the back of your neck like you might disappear if he let go.

Eventually, Sam pulled back just enough to look at you. “Did I hurt you?”

You blinked slowly. “Not in the way that matters.”

That got a crooked smile out of him. “Smartass.”

He eased out of you carefully, helping you shift onto your side, wrapping the blanket over both of you. You shivered, and he was already grabbing the water bottle from the nightstand, pressing it into your hand.

“Hydrate.”

You took a sip, then handed it back. “You always like this after a hunt?”

He shrugged, settling in beside you. One arm under your neck, the other curled protectively around your waist. “Not usually this intense.”

You tilted your head toward him. “But I’m special?”

He gave you a look. “You took down a wendigo alone and still had the energy to argue with me bleeding out. Yeah. You’re special.”

You hummed, forehead resting against his again. “You’re not so bad yourself, Winchester.”

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. “Gonna be sore tomorrow.”

“Mm. Can’t wait to explain to Dean how I re-opened my stitches by having sex with his brother.”

Sam huffed a laugh, eyes sliding shut. “We’ll lie.”

“He’ll know.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “He always knows.”

You drifted in silence after that—his breath steady in your hair, your body aching in a way that somehow felt earned. Safe.

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“Hey,” he murmured eventually.

“Yeah?”

“You should stay,” he said. “Not just the night. I mean… with us. Longer.”

You lifted your head slightly to look at him, heart thudding all over again.

“I’m not exactly low-maintenance,” you said quietly.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, voice soft. “Neither are we.”

You didn’t say yes. Not out loud. But you shifted closer, nose tucked against his throat, and his arms tightened around you like he already knew.

“Don’t think this gets you out of stitching me up next time,” you mumbled.

Sam’s chest shook with quiet laughter. “Next time, we use a bed first.”

“Deal.”

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Forever Tags:

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[thestoriesfold]

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴

𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘐𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 - 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘛𝘸𝘰

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 5.4𝘬

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: MINORS DNI! Please bro. Language. Supernatural (warning in of itself), early seasons, character is female oc but you can apply whatever you’d wish, bad writing, death, almost child death.

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘖𝘯𝘦 : 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦

Jaden’s IPod

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The next morning.

Jaden sat on the bed she shared with Dean, her laptop resting on her lap while her journal lay next to her on the mattress. She and Sam were poring over details regarding their current case. Meanwhile, Dean rummaged through his duffel bag, methodically refolding and organizing his clothes.

As Jay scrolled through a series of news articles, she absentmindedly rubbed her finger against her lip in thought. Her head tilted slightly as she came across an article, just as Sam broke the silence.

“So, there are three drowning victims this year,” he noted, his eyes darting back and forth across the screen.

Neither Dean nor Jaden looked up from their tasks, but the youngest perked up, catching onto Sam’s train of thought. Dean tossed a rolled pair of socks back into his bag. “Any before that?”

Jaden uncrossed her long legs and scooted the other desk chair over to join Sam, pulling her screen up next to his. They exchanged a glance before Jaden continued for both of them, pulling up one of her several tabs as Sam opened another article. He paused for a moment before speaking. “Uh, yeah.” Jaden displayed the image of The Lake Manitoc Tribune, which showcased the headline: Drowning Taints Ice Fishing Festival. Sam’s article was similar, also from the Tribune, but with a different title: 12-Year-Old Girl Drowns In Lake: Second Drowning in 6 Months at Lake Manitoc!

“Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years,” Jaden added, splitting the screen to show her other tabs. She glanced at Sam as if to verify her information, receiving a nod in response. “Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it’s definitely picking up its pace.” She leaned back in the chair, rubbing her chin in thought.

Dean glanced over at the two of them, tossing a clean shirt onto his side of the bed. “So, what, we’ve got a lake monster on a binge?”

Sam shook his head, returning his focus to his computer screen. “This whole lake monster theory... it just bugs me.” His voice revealed the confusion that both he and Jaden had been feeling since they started their research that morning.

“Why?” Dean asked, leaning closer to them while placing a hand on the back of each of their chairs. He skimmed over the tabs they had pulled up, his lips pursed in concentration.

“Loch Ness, Lake Champlain—there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts. But here? Almost nothing.” Hazel eyes met brown as Jaden nodded for Sam to continue, her focus split between her screen and his. Sam clicked on the Tribune’s homepage, and Jaden leaned in to squint at the tiny print of the article title. “Whatever is out there, no one’s living to talk about it.” He scrolled down through the comments, both Dean and Jaden staring intently at the screen.

Jaden’s hand fell from her cheek as she leaned forward in her seat. Dean pointed at a comment on the article. “Wait, Barr. Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?”

“Christopher Barr, the victim in May,” Sam replied. The trio leaned in closer to read the page as Sam clicked on the link. Jaden’s mouth fell open, a deep frown settling on her face as she looked at the accompanying image. The paper’s title read: Local Man in Tragic Accident.

A sad huff escaped her lips as she saw Lucas, looking utterly traumatized, staring back at her. Unable to take in such an image, her brown gaze shifted away. “Poor kid, damn,” she whispered, catching Sam’s attention.

“Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband,” he said, blinking slightly surprised as he read the text aloud. “Lucas's father. Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned.” Dean finally gave up, unable to bear the sight of the poor kid any longer. He rested a hand on Jaden’s shoulder, aware that she was equally affected. “Two hours before the kid got rescued.”

Sam clicked on the image for a better look. Dean glanced at the screen, sighing at the distant look on such a young face. He knew that feeling well; his chest felt heavy at the thought of a child experiencing such trauma. Jaden slackened her jaw, turning back to her laptop to avoid the heart-wrenching picture. “Maybe we have an eyewitness after all,” Sam suggested, scratching his head.

“No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn’t something you just get over.”

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The park was vibrant and lively, filled with the sounds of children playing on the playground, their joyous screams and laughter echoing around. Jae stood back, observing the scene as a slight breeze caught her hair, reminding her that it was unmistakably autumn, even though the sun shone warmly overhead. She watched as the two Winchesters attempted to speak to Andrea or even Lucas, her eyes scanning the surroundings. The trees still wore their green leaves, while clouds spread across the sky in gentle, wispy rivulets.

Her hand fidgeted with the paper in her pocket, her thoughts drifting back to Will. Perhaps a little social interaction beyond the brothers was just what she needed. Scratch that—she definitely needed it. Jae let out a small huff, pulling out the flip phone from her back pocket. Her brown gaze settled on it, and she shook her head at the thought of the smartphone she had become so accustomed to.

As she unfolded the paper, her thumb began dialing the numbers. She bit her lip, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over her. Looking up, she spotted Sam talking to Andrea while Dean focused his attention on Lucas. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the call button.

The phone rang only twice before he answered. “Hello?” Jaden kept her eyes on the back of Sam’s head as a grounding point.

“Hey there, stranger.” She couldn't help but grin at her own cheesiness. “I’ll admit, those chips really hit the spot.” She leaned back against the trunk of the Impala. “I was kinda hoping you’d still want to show me around town or something—since I’m not a local and all.” She recalled their earlier conversation at the store.

Jaden could hear Will’s airy laugh and a small shuffle before he replied. “Yeah, I, uh...” He glanced over at his father, frowning as he watched the older man zone out, lost in his grief. “I’m gonna cook some dinner for my dad. How about I meet you at Town Hall? I can give you the full tour and all that.” His tone suggested he was smiling at the end. “What do you say? Six o'clock?”

Jaden grinned, toying with her necklace as she nodded, a moment of silence passing before she remembered he couldn’t see her. “Sorry,” she chuckled sheepishly. “Yes, six works perfectly.” Her hand flew to her forehead in an unintentional facepalm. “I’ll see you then.”

They both awkwardly exchanged goodbyes, speaking like teenagers who had never actually been on a date before. Jaden shut the phone as the call ended, bringing it to her forehead as she grumbled, “God, Jae. Get yourself together.”

As Sam and Dean approached the car, Jaden noticed Dean holding a piece of paper, his gaze seemingly locked on it as if it contained all the secrets they were searching for. Sam caught her attention with a light kick to her shoe.

“Everything okay?” Sam raised an eyebrow, his concern evident. Dean’s focus broke as he shifted his gaze from Sam to Jae, catching the tail end of her movement as she relaxed her arms back to her sides.

Jae straightened, tucking the paper and her phone back into her pocket. “Yeah,” she replied, looking between the two brothers. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Her gaze slid away, landing on the paper in Dean’s hand. “What’s that?”

Neither brother bought her act; they could read her like a book after their years together. “To answer your first question,” Dean pointed at her, tilting his head toward Sam, “a lot of things.” He held out the paper for her to see, watching as she gently took it from him. “And this is from Lucas. The kid might be trying to tell us something.”

Jae looked up at him as he explained, then back down at the image of the cabin, its red roof strikingly familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place. “What’s the game plan?” she asked, handing it back to him while meeting his green eyes with her own.

“We get to work.”

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Jaden sat in front of the bathroom mirror for almost thirty minutes, contemplating whether to change into her one and only dress. However, as the sun slowly dipped lower in the sky, she decided against it. It was already slightly chilly in the late afternoon, and by the time they would meet, the sun would be completely gone.

She finally settled on her bed, applying the cheap lip gloss she had dug out from her bag. Dean's gaze shifted to the TV after several judgmental glances toward Jaden's antics. He sat on their bed, one leg propped up while the other dangled off the edge. He swirled the beer in his bottle, attempting to focus on the screen, but his attention kept drifting back to Jaden.

With a resigned sigh, she leaned back against the headboard, giving up on her earlier efforts. Fidgeting with her necklace, she tried to contain a mix of excitement and nervousness. They sat in silence, Dean wisely choosing not to pester her about her little date while they were in town.

Suddenly, the familiar roar of the Impala echoed from outside, signaling that Sam had returned from his errand, eager to escape the confines of the hotel room. As he entered, he glanced over at Jaden and Dean. “So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie.” His eyes landed on Jaden as he plopped down on the mattress, causing her to scoot over to make room.

Dean raised an eyebrow, shifting his gaze from Jaden to Sam. “What do you mean?”

Jaden tilted her head, watching as Sam regarded her with a look of empathy, as if he had just witnessed someone kick a puppy. His voice was quiet and soft as he delivered the news to the youngest of the trio. “I just drove past the Carlton house.” Both brothers watched Jaden's expression slowly fall. “There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”

Jaden’s gaze dropped to the wallpaper, a deep frown settling on her features. After the last few days of uncertainty, talking with Will had provided a sense of normalcy she hadn’t felt since waking up in that cave. Dean's hand fell on her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “He drowned?” she asked slowly, looking at the brunette beside her, the kicked puppy.

Sam looked down at his hands, unable to meet her gaze as he spoke softly. “In the sink.” Dean’s attention remained focused on Jaden, his own frown mirroring hers as he watched her deflate. “So you’re right; this isn’t a creature. We’re dealing with something else?” His eyes shifted to Sam, who looked up to meet his gaze.

Sam shook his head, leaning back against the headboard as he searched for answers. “Yeah, but what?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, deep in thought. “I don’t know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? Something that controls water.” Their eyes met again, thoughts synchronizing. “...water that comes from the same source.”

Jaden snapped out of her daze, finally catching on to the conversation. She perked up, her brows furrowing as she turned to Sam. “The lake.”

The youngest Winchester looked down at her in confirmation before glancing back at Dean. “Yeah.”

Sam's gaze shifted to the wall, licking his lips as he contemplated. “Which would explain why it's upping the body count.” He looked between the two next to him. “The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time.”

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Two Days Later…

The brothers didn’t let Jae talk to Mr. Carlton. What good would it do? She wanted nothing more than to send her heartfelt condolences, even if she didn’t know the guy that well. She wouldn’t have minded it at all if she could have. How sweet Will was.

Jaden and Dean exchanged glances in front of the church, looking at the drawing Dean had received from Lucas. Just then, Sam joined them, and their gazes shifted from the church to the yellow house beside it.

Taking the lead, Dean knocked on the door, only to be greeted by an elderly woman. She scrutinized him with a curious smile before her gaze landed on the two standing behind him. “Well, hello,” she said warmly. She opened the door a bit wider, inviting them into the front entryway. “I didn’t expect to have such lively company today.” She smiled at Jaden, who returned the gesture with a small grin.

“We’re sorry to bother you, ma’am,” Dean replied. The house was precisely how one would envision an old couple’s home. A china cabinet was neatly tucked in the corner, organized with plates of all different sizes. Family pictures adorned the walls, especially those where they’d dressed up and pretended to be from the Old West for photographs—a seemingly cherished tradition in the Midwest for families to have old Western-themed photos taken during vacations. “But does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap and ride a red bicycle.”

As soon as the old woman heard the mention of the little boy, her face fell. Her shoulders hunched, and the light in her eyes dimmed as she spoke. “No, sir. Not for a very long time.” Jaden’s gaze drifted to one of the pictures resting next to a recliner, where a young boy smiled back at her. Sam noticed her movement and glanced over himself. “Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now,” the woman sighed, turning her attention back to the picture. She picked up the frame, taking in the child’s youthful face, wishing she had been the one missing in his stead, even after all these years. “The police never—I never had any idea what happened.” Her thumb traced the image, right where he was missing a tooth. She set the photo down gently before turning back to the trio. “He just disappeared.”

Dean listened intently, his gaze full of sympathy for the older woman. Sam’s attention shifted to the toy soldiers that lined one of the tables, his elbow gently nudging Jae’s ribs. Her eyes widened in a silent warning, but Sam remained steady, merely nodding toward the toy soldiers across the room. “Losing him…” Dean caught the movement of the other two’s heads in his peripheral vision, stealing a glance at them. Sam nodded once again toward the toys on the table, his emerald eyes focused on the plastic figures. “You know, it’s…” The woman held back tears before she continued, “it’s worse than dying.” Her voice quivered slightly.

Dean glanced over at Jae, and the two exchanged a silent conversation filled with understanding. Dean pursed his lips uncomfortably as he noticed the tears welling in the old woman’s eyes. “Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?”

Her gaze seemed to drift far away, as if she were reliving that moment. Jae reached for Dean’s arm, resting her hand on the leather that covered his forearm as she spoke, her voice trembling as she practically relived that fateful day in front of the trio. “He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up.” Jaden's frown deepened as the older woman explained, feeling Dean’s hand slip into hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

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Sam let Jae sit in the front for once, the youngest sitting with her back pressed against the passenger window as she looked between the two brothers. “The picture dated back to 1970 right? Kid was like, what twelve?” She glanced up from her laptop that rested in her crossed legs, catching Sam’s eyes as Dean was driving.

Sam looked over at what little notes she’d drawn up with everything they’d found so far, hand resting on the back of her seat as he looked at the screen. He let out a small huff, retrieving his own to collect his thoughts.

“You two geeking out over there or working on the case? To be honest, I can’t really tell?” Dean gave the two a smirk, chuckling as Jaden smacked his arm.

Sam types away on his computer, comparing notes with Jaden, brainstorming. “Okay, so this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.” He looked up and turned to the other two.

Dean nodded, eyes on the road as he spoke. “Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?”

Sam leaned forward, much to Dean’s protective older brother look not to. Sam’s hand rested next to Jae’s head on the leather bench of the Impala. “And Bill, the people he loves, they’re all getting punished.”

Jaden’s eyes looked up from her screen, looking up at Sam over her shoulder. The two turned over to Dean, watching as leaned his head over to glance at them, following the thought. “So what if Bill did something to Peter?”

The youngest’ lips pursed, hating the thought that shot out of her brain first, but it was plausible considering everything that had happened just in the past week alone. “What if Bill killed him?”

Dean nodded, tilting his head back to the road. “Peter’s spirit would be furious. It’d want revenge. It’s possible.”

Jae and Sam looked at one another for a moment, both having the same thought. Jaden shook her head at Sam’s untimely decision not to be the one to push it this time, so she looked at Dean.

He didn’t even need to look at her, the brown eyes he felt in his peripherals looking at him with an attitude that only she would ever get away with, she didn’t get a word in before he spoke up. “Yes, we’re going.” He gave her a sideways glance, watching as she sat back into the leather bench and went back to her computer with a huff.

He shook his head with a smile at her antics, knowing Sammy was right behind her doing the same thing. Despite everything, the trinity was back at it again. The pit in his stomach had lightened a little as he stepped on the gas a little bit more, the purr of baby’s engine comforting all three despite the circumstances.

The squealing of the breaks was all that was heard on the property of the Carton house. As they got out of the car, they looked around. The trees surrounding the house seemed to loom over the cabin eerily. It was quiet except for the rustling of leaves and the water lapping gently on the shore. Jaden felt the back of her neck hairs stand up, a dull ache in her head starting to set in as she and the two brothers scanned the property for Bill.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” She mumbled, hand coming to fidget on the necklace she’d had on since she seemingly got her. It was a ring, a simple band with one purple gem in the center. She had yet to figure out just where it had come from, no answers coming from her journal, and too scared to ask the brothers. Slipping her finger in and out of the silver metal was a comfort in the moment, seemingly yet another habit.

“Mr. Carlton!” Sam looked towards the house, slowly stepping towards the door. The sound of an engine in the distance caused Jaden and Dean both to look out to the water. Jaden’s eyes widened seeing the bow of a pontoon boat slowly moving through the tree line.

She started in the direction, Dean just a beat behind her. “Hey, check it out!” His voice carried over to Sam. Jaden’s heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted to the dock, the two brothers close on her tail with equally worried expressions. They shouted, waved, Jaden even pleaded for the man to turn the boat around

All they received in return was his head turning, face solemn. Jae’s mouth fell agape, feeling his sorrowful gaze seep into her own before turning back around.

The lake was quiet for a second. Nothing but the sound of the engine, it was like the trio lost their voices knowing the man’s mind was made up. He knew. The water lapped at the sides of the boat peacefully, but only long enough for their stomachs to loosen from the nerves of watching someone else drown. Only moments for the butterflies to stop before the pit was stabbed open.

The water lunged upwards towards the underside of the boat, the bow tipping up into the air. The impact sprayed water even all the way to the dock, the three bracing as water sprayed at them. The boat tipped over in one large wave of water, taking the boat and Bill Carlton down all together.

They stood there for a moment, chests heaving and faces full of disbelief. Bill Carlton was dead. The water settled back into gentle ripples as if nothing had happened.

The Carlton family was no more.

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The trio rushed to the police station, hoping to beat any reports before they appeared. Sam swung the door open, carrying a low expression that the two behind him copied. Not that it mattered, Devins took up the rear behind Jade.

Jaden glanced around, catching sight of two familiar faces. Her hand smacked Dean’s arm, his head lifting as Andrea stood to greet them. “Jae, Sam, Dean.” She put the take out in the chair she’d been sitting in as she straightened up. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Devins squeezed past Sam, looking between the three and his daughter. “So no you’re on a first name basis.” He pointed between Andrea and the trio with his thumb, brow raised with a seemingly unimpressed look. His eyes looked down the line of the three now behind him, gaze locking on Jaden’s deflated form for a beat before looking to his daughter. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you dinner.”

Jaden’s gaze was locked on the wood below her feet, only looking up when Dean’s elbow pushed into her gut. Brown orbs glared at the oldest for a moment, but noticed how his gaze didn’t break away from Lucas. She followed his stare, noticing the worry that flooded his emeralds.

The sheriff sighed, shrugging off his coat. “I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time.” His gaze was apologetic, but he was hiding something.

Andrea stared at him, trying to figure out exactly what was going on with her father. Her eyes landed on the trio beside her father, Dean and Sam were already looking to meet her questioning gaze. Sam was practically pleading for help with the puppy dog eyes he’d made at the woman. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something to the boys, but instead turned to look at her father. “I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”

Devins held back a sigh, looking back at the trio who could only watch the interaction in uncomfortable anticipation of just what exactly the Sheriff had to say afterwards. “Right now we don’t know what the truth is.” Jaden hadn’t taken her eyes off the kid, watching as he rocked himself back and forth. If Dean hadn’t been standing directly in front of her, she would’ve reached out to him by now. Instead, Dean’s focus turned back to Lucas. “But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.”

Lucas jumped at the sound of his grandfather’s words. The poor kid whined, fear evident in his little brown eyes. A small whimper left him as he jumped up, grabbing at Dean’s arm. He tugged for dear life.

Dean kneeled down immediately, brows creasing in worry. “Lucas, hey, what is it?”

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Jaden’s eyes flicked instinctively toward the front door, the image of that terrified kid burned into her mind. His face—twisted with raw horror—lingered like a ghost she couldn’t shake. It had been a long time since she’d seen someone that scared. She turned to Dean, feeling the thick tension in the room as the three of them silently followed the sheriff’s lead and took their seats.

Sheriff Devins didn’t look happy. His face was drawn tight, unreadable, as he dropped onto the edge of his desk. His eyes bounced between them—calculating, suspicious. “Okay, just so I’m clear,” he began, hands flexing as he took them in, “you see something attack Bill’s boat, sending Bill—who, by the way, is a very good swimmer—” He leaned toward Sam, then Dean, then fixed his gaze on Jaden, like she held the missing piece. “—into the drink, and you never see him again?”

Dean shot a glance at Sam and Jaden. “Yeah, that about sums it up,” he said evenly. Sam gave a quick nod. Jaden, quiet until now, focused on the sheriff, meeting his stare without flinching.

“And I’m supposed to believe this,” Devins continued, raising a finger, “even though I’ve already sonar-swept that entire lake?” Another finger. “Even though what you’re describing is impossible?” A third. “And you’re not really Wildlife Service?”

Dean tilted his head slightly, feigning surprise. Sam opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it. Jaden shifted in her seat, calm but alert, bracing for whatever came next.

“That’s right, I checked. The department’s never heard of you three,” Devins said flatly, letting the accusation hang.

“See, now, we can explain that,” Dean said, gesturing vaguely between them, trying to buy space they didn’t have. Sam glanced around, clearly uneasy. Jaden’s expression hardened—less anxious, more ready.

“Enough. Please.” Devins cut him off with a tired sigh, the fight in his voice thinning. “The only reason you’re breathing free air is that one of Bill’s neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did.” His eyes landed on Jaden again, sharp and weighing. “So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton’s disappearance, or we can chalk this all up to a bad day. You get into your car, put this town in your rearview mirror, and don’t ever darken my doorstep again.”

His finger dropped from where it had been aimed at Sam, but the room stayed thick with tension.

Jaden glanced at Sam, reading the stubborn set in his eyes—something only she and Dean ever truly caught. “Door number two sounds good,” she said quickly, her tone hopeful, with a hint of desperation threading through.

“That’s the one I’d pick,”

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The Impala’s brakes let out a sharp squeal as they rolled to a stop at the light. Dean’s hand gripped the wheel like it owed him something, knuckles pale. The green highway sign to their left read: I-43 North to Milwaukee, bright and unmistakable in the dark. Outside, the night buzzed with insects, but inside, the hum of the engine and Dean’s cassette were the only competing sounds.

Jaden sat in the back, one earbud in, head resting against the worn leather seat. Her eyes were half-lidded, her thoughts far from the road. In the front seat, Sam eyed the light, giving his brother a second before speaking.

“Green.”

Dean didn’t move. “What?”

Jaden stirred, pulling the earbud out as she leaned forward slightly, listening.

“Light's green,” she repeated, voice quiet. She looked to Sam, who returned her gaze with a small shrug.

Dean didn’t react. His jaw was locked, his green eyes locked even harder on the space ahead. Jaden’s gaze drifted to his hand—still clenched tight around the wheel. She opened her mouth, ready to say something, but before she could, the Impala turned right.

“Uh…” Sam leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Interstate’s the other way.”

“I know.”

The Impala rumbled down the two-lane road, its headlights cutting a narrow path through the trees. The interstate faded behind them, swallowed by darkness and distance. Gravel hissed beneath the tires as Dean took a slow curve, one hand still iron-clad on the wheel.

No one spoke.

The cassette kept playing, low and gritty, some Zeppelin B-side that usually gave the car swagger but now just hung in the air like smoke. Jaden leaned her temple against the window again, watching blurry fence posts flicker by in the dark. Her breath fogged faintly on the glass.

Sam sat forward in the passenger seat, arms crossed, legs still. He kept glancing sideways at his brother, jaw tense, waiting for something, anything, to make sense.

Dean didn’t flinch under the weight of it. His eyes stayed forward, knuckles white, jaw tight. The headlights hit a sign: Lake Manitoc – 2 Miles.

Another stretch of silence.

The cassette clicked, switching to the next song. Jaden blinked at the sudden pause before the music resumed. She slid her iPod into her jacket pocket, no longer pretending to be absorbed in solitaire. The silence wasn’t peaceful anymore, it was electric, like static before a storm.

The road narrowed, the trees crowding closer. The world felt small, pressed in. The kind of silence that begged to be broken.

And then Sam spoke.

“But Dean, this job—I think it’s over.” Sam glanced at his brother, brows slightly drawn.

Dean raised a brow, tilting his head toward the window. “I’m not so sure.”

“If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter’s spirit got its revenge, case closed.” Sam shook his head. “The spirit should be at rest.”

He looked out at the road ahead, then back to Sam, thinking something.

“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn’t done?” Dean turned toward him slightly, his voice calm, but his jaw tight. “You know, what if we missed something? What if more people get hurt?”

Sam blinked at him. “But why would you think that?”

His tone carried a note of disbelief. From the back seat, Jaden looked up from her game of solitaire on her iPod, suddenly alert now that she caught the shift in Sam’s voice.

Dean gave a small shrug, lips pressing into a hard, contemplative line. “Because Lucas was really scared.”

He didn’t look at Sam, didn’t need to, he could feel his younger brother’s full attention now.

“He’s right,” Jaden added, siding with Dean without hesitation. “You don’t just see that look on a kid.” Her voice was soft, but certain. “Kid freaked.”

She thought back to Lucas, how he’d reached out for Dean like he was the only solid thing left in the world. Dean had been a stranger, but he was the only one close enough to understand the kind of fear Lucas was living in.

Sam glanced between them. Jaden slowly leaned back again, resting her head where it had been, but she met Sam’s gaze for just a moment. It was enough. She was all in with Dean on this.

Dean still wouldn’t meet Sam’s eyes. His jaw tensed and relaxed, tensed again. The road ahead gave him the perfect excuse not to look at whatever was probably on Sam’s incredulous face.

“I just don’t want to leave this town until I know the kid’s okay.”

Even as he said it, it sounded like he didn’t totally believe it himself.

“Who are you people?” Sam asked, half-laughing.

It was a fair question. Dean, of all people, wasn’t known for emotional attachments—and Jaden, well, she didn’t exactly scream maternal. She’d always been blunt about not liking kids. But that never stopped her from protecting them when it mattered.

“Shut up,” Dean and Jae said in perfect sync.

They both rolled their eyes. Dean returned his focus to the road, and Jaden let hers drift closed again as her head sank back against the seat.

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Part One, Part Three

Series Taglist (make sure you're tagable love): @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @bkindex @bitchyfestivalbouquet @amaria-laird @alixxhere

[thestoriesfold]

So like? Do I post part two the next day? Or wait a week? What yall want? 👀 Part one is up and ready to go. So like, what you want? I can hook you up y’know? Taglist is always open 👀.

Masterlist plug

[thestoriesfold]

Where The Light Touches: Dead In The Water - Part One

Materlist

Previously - Wendigo

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! Please bro. Some light cussing. Supernatural (it's a warning on its own I think), early seasons, character is female OC but you can apply it however you'd like, bad writing. Death. Almost child death.

Jaden's IPod

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Jaden’s fingers twirled the pen with a dexterity that surprised her at first. It dawned on her that this was very much a habit she had picked up over time, even if she didn’t remember it. They had stopped after nearly a full day of driving, finding themselves once again in the cornfield-ridden Midwest. As they made their way to the diner, Sam and Dean engaged in a back-and-forth conversation about finding another case and searching for their father. Dean, ever restless, picked at various articles in the newspaper, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scanned the headlines.

The diner was warmly lit, perhaps even a little dim if you asked the right person. A couple of the overhead lights were turned on, but most of the light peaked in through the broad glass windows looking out at the small strip of the town it sat in. The booths that lined the windows were made of wooden benches and antique chandeliers that swayed gently with the draft of several ranch style ceiling fans. The trio settled themselves at the counter, where the stools were just short enough that their long legs connected firmly to the ground. The aroma of bacon sizzling and coffee brewing enveloped them, causing Dean to relax a bit—two of his dietary needs met without even needing to glance at the menu.

Sam took in the local sports team posters mounted on the walls, pointing out a few of the photos to Jaden as she settled into her seat. A few coffee decor hangings lined the wall behind the counter. The youngest practically hunched over the papers that sat in front of her, her focus intense and unwavering. Sam positioned himself between Jaden and Dean, trying to keep his thoughts to himself. This entire hunt for their father felt increasingly like a dead end, a realization he was certain Dean shared but was too stubborn to acknowledge. As for Jaden? She had been acting strangely ever since Jessica’s death, and even more so after their encounter with the Wendigo. Hell if he knew at this point what she was thinking.

Jaden shifted her gaze from the newspaper folded next to her and back to the journal she had found at the bottom of her bag on the way here, desperately trying to find some semblance of the person she was supposed to be. The pages of the notebook appeared aged, as if it had been dropped several times, each crease telling a story of its own. It was small but filled with scribbles and notes that made her momentarily question her sanity, wondering if maybe a schizophrenia diagnosis wasn’t that far off.

She didn’t look up as the waitress approached, her smile brightening the space around them and offering a brief respite from the tension. Sam managed an awkward smile in return as she placed the menus in front of them, while Dean turned on the charm as she reached his side. Jaden mumbled a soft thanks, pulling her menu to the side and trying to focus on the task at hand. They ordered their drinks: coffee for Dean, water for Sam, and Diet Coke for the youngest.

Once the food arrived, their lively banter quieted down for a moment as they dug in. Jaden unwrapped her sandwich, opting instead to munch on the fries as she reviewed the text in front of her, the words blurring slightly as her mind wandered.

May 4th, 2001

So, yesterday was the first year since diapers that Sam and I hadn’t spent together. He’s off at a fancy college, and here I am with Dean and Dad, watching them drink while I wish I’d taken the chance to graduate early. Now I have to seriously consider college and everything else, especially since senior year is going to be nothing but AP classes at the local community college anyway. Maybe I should’ve tried to go with him like he wanted, but then again, we saw how it went when he left. John sent a text from one of his burners; that was definitely unexpected—and a little weird, honestly. I think Dad can tell I miss him, but we both know Dean would take it the wrong way if we brought up Sammy ourselves. The dumbass doesn’t realize we can see it on him too. Sam called the day before our birthday. Considering everything, he sounded happy. I hope he is; I hope he kicks ass.

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She fiddled with the straw of her soda, skimming each page of the journal in front of her. She began reading through it as if it’d give her the answers to who she was supposed to be. So far, she’d realized how much tragedy followed her in this life. Sam and Jade shared their birthdays, only a year apart from each other. While the two Winchester’s originated from Kansas, she was a St. Louis girl herself. The college she’d attended in another life wasn't even established yet, meaning her hopes of studying marine biology were irrelevant. The differences in technology she was acutely aware of would not surface for at least another ten years. What in the Marty Mcfly was this?

Jade's attention sharpened as she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Sam leaned back in his seat, clearly done with Dean’s relentless smartassery, but Jay was too absorbed in her thoughts to care much. Dean returned to the obituary, his brow furrowed in concentration, while Sam muttered something about needing to use the bathroom. Jaden glanced over at the weekly paper next to her notebook, finally deciding to stop neglecting her urge to assist the brothers in finding their next case.

For a few moments, Dean and Jaden sat in silence, both of their gazes locked on the ink in front of them. Dean circled a picture on the obituary, the image of a young blonde teenager named Sophie Carlton—a drowning victim in Lake Manitoc. Jaden twirled the pen between her fingers, while Dean chewed on the pen he’d been holding, trying not to lose what little focus he had managed to maintain. Just then, Jay caught sight of the line about the deceased girl as the waitress approached them.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked, her eyes lingering on Dean, who was not too hard on the eyes himself. He just smiled around the pen in his mouth, looking like a dork. Jaden looked up, her pen coming to a halt from its persistent twirling. She watched the waitress tilt her head, her pretty smile turning to aim at the youngest of the trio.

Jaden opened her mouth, tempted to say something quick and flirty, but Sam plopped down between them, breaking the moment. “Just the check, please,” he interjected, ever the polite Winchester.

Jae watched the waitress walk away, trying to maintain some semblance of decency. She glanced down, aware of her own discomfort as she realized just how obvious her interest had been. Dean dropped his head, letting out a sigh at the lost opportunity to spark a conversation with a pretty girl.

Dean turned to Sam with a huff, “You know, we’re allowed to have fun,” he said, leaning over to look at Jaden, fully aware she had been watching too. He pointed toward the waitress, and Jay realized she had been wearing short shorts. “That’s fun.”

Sam and Jaden both rolled their eyes, sharing a look of exasperation directed at the oldest of the trio. Jaden shook her head as Dean slid the paper over for the others to see. “Here, take a look at this. I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week, Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walked into the lake and didn’t come out. Authorities dragged the water but found nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third drowning this year in Lake Manitoc. None of the other bodies were recovered either, and they had a funeral two days ago.”

Jaden's brown eyes fell on the image of the young girl, realizing she was only a couple of years older than Sophie. A frown creased her brow at the thought, but another question arose in her mind. “A funeral?” She looked up at Dean, their gazes meeting and communicating silently. It had to be a case. People drowned all the time, sure, but bodies didn’t just vanish without a trace.

Dean glanced between the two, furrowing his brows. “Yeah, it’s weird. They buried an empty coffin,” he said, lifting the pen in his hand and tilting it toward them before returning his attention to the paper. “For, uh, closure or whatever.”

Tradition—that’s why they did it. Honoring the dead and all that. Jae looked back at the newspaper, unable to hide her disdain at the thought. The other two could be insensitively blunt sometimes. She huffed, marking key phrases on her own copy as a way to distract herself.

Sam shot Dean a look, one not unlike the one Jaden had the sense to look away from when it appeared on her face. “Closure? What closure?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone. Dean was one to talk about closure. “People don’t just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.”

It was true. John Winchester was still a mystery. None of the trio had any idea what the hell was happening with him or where he was. They all knew they were hunting the creature that had killed Mary all those years ago, but why had he chosen to split from them? Protecting Sam and Dean was one thing, but if the threat was that significant, John couldn’t handle it alone, could he?

Dean leaned into the counter, challenging Sam with his posture as the tension mounted. Jade could see it in the brothers; the spring was there, ready to snap. “Something you want to say to me?” Dean tilted his head, daring Sam to push back.

“The trail for Dad is getting colder every day.” Sam wasn’t backing down, not really. Another person had drowned—great. John’s absence was the reason Sam had landed himself in this situation, the reason the girl sitting next to him had decided to put her spring semester on hold to help Dean find their father.

Jade hesitated, unsure if she should intervene. She glanced at Dean's expression, the human embodiment of stubbornness—classic Winchester. “Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?” he asked, his tone rising slightly, the tension in the air thickening.

Jae sighed, trying to divert her attention from the brothers’ escalating argument. She didn’t appreciate it when they argued in front of her, but she knew from the angsty notes in her notebook that their bickering was nothing new, or that she wasn’t just as bad with either of them. Her eyes landed on two girls seated just a couple of spots down, obviously eavesdropping on the trio. “Guys,” she muttered softly, attempting to capture the older brothers’ attention.

Sam remained focused on the tension between him and Dean, his eyes widening as he shook his head. “I don’t know. Something. Anything.” Desperation tinged his tone.

“Guys…” Jae huffed, her voice sharpening slightly with annoyance, daring to look back at the two brooding men next to her. She was growing increasingly tired of their conversation, especially knowing there were onlookers.

“You know what? I’m sick of this attitude. You don’t think I want to find Dad as much as you do?” Dean didn’t break eye contact with his brother, as if they were locked in an unspoken contest of wills.

“Yeah, I know you do. It’s just—”

“I’m the one who’s been with him every single day for the past two years, while you’ve been off at college going to pep rallies, and you’ve—” Dean looked past Sam to Jaden, who raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You’ve been too busy playing dollhouse, going to trade school with your little boy toys every other week. We will find Dad, but until then, we’re gonna kill everything bad,” he pointed at the newspaper between them, tapping at the dead girl’s picture in the obituary. “Between here and there. Okay?” His head tilted, eyes reverting back to Sam, daring him to go any further.

Jaden scoffed, shaking her head and turning away, clenching her jaw to hold back her own sarcastic retort as Sam rolled his eyes. She didn’t look at Dean, but her tone was sharp as she interjected, “May I remind you both that we’re in public?” She set the pen down in her notebook, clenching and unclenching her hand as she shot a quick glare at both of them, earning an eye roll from Sam.

Dean lost interest the moment the waitress sauntered past again, her shorts catching his attention. Jae cast a glance herself, only to receive an elbow to the ribs from Sam. She shot him a look, only to be met with one in return. Now wasn’t the time for distractions, and he needed backup. Part of her wanted to sass back and tell him to handle it like a big boy. Instead, she glanced back at Dean, huffing in resignation.

“All right, Lake Manitoc,” Sam said, pushing the article back toward Dean and sparing a glance at the girl. “Hey!” Jaden leaned forward to listen as Dean finally tore his gaze from the waitress and looked back at Sam. “How far?” he prodded.

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Jae sat in the back seat, watching the scenery change during the long drive. The eight-hour journey felt like a slow passage through different landscapes. Much of it was filled with cornfields, their brown and beige colors showing the season’s shift. The tall, dry stalks swayed gently in the breeze, whispering about harvests gone by.

As they moved deeper into the Ozarks, the hills rolled smoothly, revealing a mix of colors. Each tree held onto its leaves, their reds, oranges, and yellows bright against the muted fields. Jae found herself captivated by how the sunlight filtered through the branches, creating patterns on the ground.

The small towns they passed had a strange mix of comfort and unease. Their cozy signs seemed welcoming, but the quiet felt heavy, as if the towns were holding their breath. Many buildings looked abandoned or were up for sale, making the towns feel like they were slowly fading away. When they entered Illinois, the landscape didn’t change much; cornfields and quiet towns blurred together, and Jae felt her eyelids growing heavy from the long drive.

Suddenly, Jaden woke up to a hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently to pull her from her doze. Her forehead lifted from the cool glass of the window, and she blinked against the light, a bit confused. Dean was beside her, patting her shoulder with a grin. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he said teasingly, all too chipper in his tone for her liking. With a reluctant sigh, she shook off the sleep and climbed out of the car, feeling the crisp air fill her lungs.

The water of the lake shimmered with each gentle ripple, the sunlight casting its warm rays just right to make the surface sparkle as if it were made of diamonds. The lush greenery of the neighborhood surrounding the lake only added to the beauty, with cozy cabins lining the shore, their inviting looks almost beckoning to anyone passing by.

For a moment, it almost made the youngest forget the tragedies that had unfolded here in the past year. She took a deep breath, absorbing the peaceful scene before her, and a wave of empathy washed over her for the families who had lost loved ones in such a serene-looking place. It was a stark irony, the contrast between the lake's beauty and the sorrow it had witnessed.

But she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on it for long. The weight of those memories hung in the air, yet she knew that no one else needed to suffer here, especially if the three of them could do something to prevent it.

Sam stood nearby, arms crossed, staring at the Carlton house right in front of them. Jae rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up fully, and walked over to stand beside him, while Dean joined them on the other side. “So, what’s the plan? It’s not like we can just go asking if she had any enemies,” Jae grumbled, glancing at the two brothers.

Sam chuckled at her sleepy look, while Dean cracked his knuckles with a confident smile. “Well, we’re Wildlife Services!” he announced as if it were coming. Jae and Sam exchanged amused looks, both unable to hide their smiles as Dean adjusted his jacket, seemingly unaware of their teasing.

“What?” Dean called out, looking between them with a mix of confusion and determination. As they began to walk toward the house, he called after them, “Guys, come on, what?” His hands went up in frustration, and he followed behind, the air around them feeling lighter despite the seriousness of the case.

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“Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?” The trio followed Sheriff Devins, who scrutinized them with a critical eye. His gaze settled on the youngest member of their group, and he couldn’t help but think she looked too young to be an agent, even more so than the boys flanking her.

Sam tilted his head, curiosity evident as they approached the sheriff’s office. “Are you sure it was accidental?” he asked pointedly, maneuvering past the swinging door that led into the cramped space.

“Like what?” Devins replied, his tone a mix of frustration and disbelief. He gestured toward the chairs by his desk and grabbed a third from along the wall for the trio. “Here, sit, please.” They complied, Dean taking the center seat. Sam sat up straighter than the others, exuding a sense of focus, while Dean leaned back slightly, adjusting his jacket with a casual air. Jaden crossed her arms, listening intently as if studying the sheriff's every move.

“There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake,” Devins continued, his voice steady. “There’s nothing even big enough to pull down a person—unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.”

Dean raised his brows, looking at the sheriff for a moment, then glanced down at the desk. The other two, knowing him well, could read the wheels turning in his mind, and he let out a light, airy laugh. “Right.” He turned to Sam with a knowing look, while Jaden leaned forward, her own thoughts catching up to the conversation.

It was as if the youngest’s mind was digging up information she didn’t know she had. She recalled several articles about the Scottish folklore surrounding the legendary creature. One story in particular stood out to her, though she was sure it was just a myth.

In A.D. 565, St. Columba was on his way to visit a king when he stopped at Loch Ness to confront a beast that had been terrorizing the area. Witnessing a large creature poised to attack another man, St. Columba intervened, invoking the name of God and commanding the monster to “go back with all speed.” Miraculously, the creature retreated and never harmed another person. At least, that’s how she remembered it from the text.

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks,” Devins said, glancing between the three of them with a sigh. “Still—” He sat down, casting a quick look behind the three before continuing. “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

Sam rubbed his chin thoughtfully, beginning to entertain similar ideas to Jaden’s, recalling bits of lore he had read over the years. Jaden tilted her head, shifting in her seat as she spoke aloud for the first time since arriving. “It’s weird, though.” She glanced at the nameplate on the desk before meeting his gaze. “That’s the third body this year.” Her tone carried a mix of feigned disbelief and genuine concern. “It’s—”

“I know,” Devins interrupted, his voice laced with regret and worry. If his words weren’t enough, the deep lines etched on his forehead spoke volumes. “These are people from my town.” He turned his attention to Sam and Dean, ultimately locking eyes with Dean as he finished, “These are people I care about.”

Dean nodded, understanding all too well the burden of being a protector and the weight of responsibility that comes with it. “I know.”

Devins sighed heavily, lowering his gaze to his desk as he lifted his hands in a gesture of defeat. Jaden could see the weight of his worries pressing down on him, and she felt a flicker of pity for the man before her. “All this…” he murmured, shaking his head. His eyes mirrored the defeat in his posture. “It won’t be a problem much longer.”

Dean and Jae tilted their heads in unison, Jae raising an eyebrow as Dean spoke. “What do you mean?”

Devins looked at them with confusion, clearly disbelieving that they didn’t understand. “Well, the dam, of course.” Sam shifted in his seat, glancing at the other two out of the corner of his eye, concerned that the two might have just let something slip that could expose them.

Dean leaned back, a look of realization dawning on his face as he scrambled to cover up the mistake. “Of course,” he nodded quickly, discreetly kicking Jay’s leg before turning to her. “The dam,” he repeated, rolling his eyes as she wiped her face of the expression not so subtly. He shifted in his seat, attempting to play off the awkwardness as mere interest. “It’s, uh, it sprung a leak.”

Devins blinked, looking between the two of them. “It’s falling apart,” he said, and Dean nodded, licking his lips as he realized he had made an error. Jaden hoped they would just appear as amateurs in the sheriff's eyes, and she glanced over at Sam, noting his thoughtful expression. “And the feds won’t give us the grant to repair it, so they’ve opened the spillway.”

Devins caught on to Jae’s glance, turning his gaze to Sam as he examined the trio. He leaned forward over his desk, linking his hands together. “In another six months, there won’t be much of a lake. There won’t be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.” He looked between the three of them, making them feel exposed and vulnerable in his scrutiny.

Dean’s brows rose, and Jae’s leg kicked him in the shin, prompting him to fix his expression. “Exactly,” he replied, subtly pursing his lips at the sudden pain.

Just then, a knock at the door broke the tension, and all four heads turned simultaneously. A pretty brunette peeked into the room, her slender frame slipping slightly into the office. “Sorry,” she said, doing a quick once-over of the trio before turning to Sheriff Devins. “Am I interrupting?”

The trio rose from their seats, seizing the opportunity to escape the increasingly uncomfortable conversation. Sam and Jae shared a knowing glance, both thinking it was a perfect exit point before they might get hounded for being impostors. However, Dean had a different idea. Jaden noticed the way his eyes darted over the woman’s form, and she instantly knew where this was headed.

“Gentlemen, lady,” he said slowly, standing up behind them. “This is my daughter.”

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The trio followed Andrea as she led them toward the motel. Dean took the lead, his mind racing with thoughts about what he might say to the woman in front of him. Meanwhile, Sam and Jaden lagged slightly behind, both trying to absorb their surroundings as they walked through the town. The sun cast a warm glow over everything, and Sam couldn’t help but notice how Jaden’s dark eyes resembled honey when the light hit them just right. He let out an amused huff, realizing he had never noticed that detail before.

“So, cute kid,” Dean attempted, interrupting Sam’s thoughts. The two youngest members of the group rolled their eyes in unison. Sam wished Dean would focus, but he found himself needing to concentrate as well.

Andrea smiled, her thoughts drifting to her son. “Thanks,” she replied, pride evident in her voice as they crossed the street. Dean’s gait resembled that of a child in a candy shop, full of youthful enthusiasm. Sam pursed his lips, observing the awkward encounter as his brother tried to appear smooth, while Jaden watched with an amused expression.

“Kids are the best, huh?” Dean said, his strides bouncy as he followed closely behind her. Sam shot his brother an incredulous look before glancing at Jaden, who bit her lip to suppress a snort. Sam’s lips compressed into a thin line, trying to keep his amusement in check. Andrea glanced back at him, choosing to ignore the comment with a knowing smile. Dean turned to the other two, seeking their support, but they only grinned at his discomfort, which only deepened as they stopped in front of the motel.

Jaden examined the structure, taking in the red sign perched above the entrance. "Lakefront Motel" was emblazoned in white lettering on the vintage sign, right next to a liquor and smoke shop. Fitting, she thought. The pale teal siding of the motel revealed its age even further, giving it a weathered charm.

Andrea turned to face the trio, clearly favoring Dean as she looked directly at him. “There it is. Like I said, just two blocks away.” Sam and Jaden exchanged glances while Dean flashed her one of his signature smiles, Sam casually sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Thanks,” Jaden spoke up, offering Andrea a small smile. The older woman glanced her way for a brief moment before looking back at Dean.

Andrea seemed entertained by Dean’s attempts at charm, her smile widening. “Must be hard with your sense of direction,” she began, all three of them watching as Dean shifted awkwardly, “never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” She raised an eyebrow at him before stepping away, leaving Dean momentarily frozen, his expression slightly disgruntled. “Enjoy your stay!” she called back over her shoulder as she walked away. Jaden bit back a laugh, while Sam stood there thoroughly amused, watching his brother with a frozen expression. Andrea chuckled as she turned back around.

Jaden and Sam turned to Dean, with Jaden crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in judgment. Sam mirrored her expression, both silently critiquing Dean’s earlier comment. “Kids are the best?” she teased, tilting her head. “You don’t even like kids.”

Dean raised his voice defensively, shrugging slightly. “I love kids!”

Jaden looked at him, her face conveying skepticism, as if to say, ‘Really?’ Sam backed her up, raising his hands in a gesture of disbelief. “Name three children that you even know.” They both watched as Dean licked his lips, pulling his hand out of his pocket to count. He hesitated, glancing down as if the concrete might provide an answer. Sam turned and waved his hand dismissively as he walked into the motel. Jaden laughed, following behind him and shaking her head.

Dean glanced back up at them, his mind still drawing a blank. He scratched his head, looking down at the ground in frustration. Finally, he looked up just in time to see Sam open the door for Jaden. “I’m thinking!” he called out, shuffling to catch up with them.

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Once they had all settled into the motel room, Jaden reached into her backpack and pulled out her wallet, tucking it into her back pocket alongside the spare key to their room. Dean glanced over at her from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Where exactly are you going?” His voice, casual yet curious, prompted Sam to look up from his laptop, the screen casting a soft glow on his face.

Jaden met the eyes of the two brothers, noting that one seemed far more interested in her plans than the other. “A girl’s gotta eat,” she replied, tilting her head at Dean in a pointed manner that seemed to say, "Relax." She grabbed her jacket from the chair across from Sam. “Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you,” she added playfully to Dean, giving Sam a quick pat on the shoulder as she shuffled toward the door, effectively cutting off any argument Dean might have had.

“Yeah, well…” Dean stood up, moving to follow her to the door. He managed to take only two steps before she flashed him a quick smile and swung the door shut behind her. “Be careful!” he called after her, his voice trailing off as the door slammed closed. He huffed in frustration, turning his attention back to his duffel bag. Glancing at the disarray he had created inside it, he muttered to himself, “Great.”

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The top of Jaden’s head peeked over the aisle of the convenience store as she surveyed the various chip bags, always perplexed by how anyone could ever make a decision with so many options available. Her basket already contained a few necessities: bread, bottled water, peanut butter, the blackberry jelly that Sam secretly loved, and a case of beer for the trio’s oldest.

Biting her lip in thought, she leaned toward a bag of classic Lays when a voice nearby made her jump. “These are my favorites.” The voice was familiar, and her eyebrows furrowed as she turned to identify the source. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Her gaze landed on Will Carlton, the older brother she had questioned earlier that day. His hands were raised in a gesture of surrender, and he offered a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She could only imagine why, internally cringing as she remembered how they’d met earlier and how she had to question him only days after his sister’s passing. Jaden opened her mouth, attempting to formulate a response, while she turned back toward the chips he had mentioned. “I—” she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, caught off guard. The brunette let out a huff of amusement. “Thanks, I always get caught up in this aisle.” She chuckled, grabbing the bag of chips before looking back at him with a smile.

Will looked down at her, grinning in amusement as he took in her features—the length of her eyelashes, her complexion, and the way she stood right at his height. She appeared beautiful in that moment, less tense and more relaxed. “Happy to help,” he said with a shrug, reaching for the same bag of chips for himself. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you can only get this one here in Wisconsin. You’re not a local, so I’ve got to get you to try them.”

Jaden shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips in response to his comment. “Oh, I’m definitely going to try them.” She scrutinized him, smirking playfully. “How disappointed will you be if I don’t like them?” She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms loosely, the basket hanging from one arm.

“So disappointed,” he feigned a dramatic sigh, placing a hand on his heart and closing his eyes as if he’d been shot. “I might have to take you out for a cup of coffee to make up for it.” Will opened one eye, peeking at her to gauge her reaction. She grinned knowingly, shaking her head at his antics.

He straightened, smiling down at her. “A guy might take that reaction as a yes.”

Jaden let out a laugh, looking away for a moment before glancing back at the chips on the shelf as she pondered his offer. “You know what? I’d like that.” Her eyes crinkled slightly as she grinned at him, noticing how his smile seemed to brighten his entire demeanor. “And I promise, it won’t be as ‘Agent Jones’.”

Will’s smile widened at her response. He reached into his pocket to retrieve the paper where he had written his shopping list. Fumbling slightly, he fished out a pen and scribbled his number beneath where cheddar cheese was marked off. “Here,” he said, handing her the paper without breaking eye contact. Their hands brushed against each other for a brief moment, sending a spark of connection between them. “Call me.”

His gaze dropped to her hand as she gently took the paper from his grip. “You know,” he continued, pulling his hand away and scratching the back of his neck, “if you don’t like the chips and all that…” He gave her one last smile before backing out of the aisle, nearly shoulder-checking an elderly woman as he turned around.

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Jaden hummed softly to herself as she entered the motel room, balancing paper bags filled with snacks over two large boxes of pizza. As she closed the door behind her, the warm glow of the sunset filtered through the curtains, causing her to smile contentedly. She continued her melodic hum while setting the food down on the desk across from the beds, drawing the attention of the two brothers.

They exchanged glances, a mix of confusion and excitement evident on their faces. The excitement was clearly for the food—and the beer, of course—while the confusion stemmed from her unusually cheerful demeanor. Both brothers got up from their spots and approached her. Dean wasted no time, grabbing a slice of pizza and shoving half of it into his mouth in one enthusiastic bite.

Sam, however, lingered a moment longer, observing Jaden as she set the room key down before rummaging through her bags. She pulled out her slice of pizza and a bag of chips she had brought from the store.

“What’s that?” Dean mumbled through a mouthful of pizza, nodding at the piece of paper in her hand. Meanwhile, Sam tossed a beer to Dean before grabbing a slice and opening a bottle for himself.

Jaden plopped down on her and Dean’s mattress, looking at the paper for a moment before slipping it back into her pocket. “Nothing, just a list I took with me,” she shrugged, suddenly aware that both brothers were staring at her. “What?”

Dean shot her a skeptical look, popping the cap off his beer bottle. “Now see, I don’t remember you writing a list before you left,” he said, his brow arched in curiosity. He glanced over at Sam for support. “Do you, Sammy?”

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname, settling onto his own mattress with a resigned sigh before turning to face the other two. “You know what, Dean,” he replied, taking a bite of his slice of pizza. His gaze shifted to Jaden. “I don’t believe she did.”

Jaden huffed, swiping Dean’s beer from him to take a long drink. She cleared her throat before speaking, glaring at both brothers. “It’s not like it’s any of your business,” she retorted, pulling out the paper once more and glancing down at the number written on it. “I got a guy’s number,” she mumbled, her eyes avoiding both of the Winchesters’ gazes.

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Taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @bkindex @bitchyfestivalbouquet @amaria-laird @alixxhere

[thestoriesfold]

The damage I can do to some people- no I must have discipline, 👀I have a chapter to finish writing and another to start drafting 👀 no I couldn’t write a one shot to hold us all over 👀 no no I wouldn’t do that 👀

[thestoriesfold]

Gang, all these multi chapter fics have like 4.k word counts and I’m over here with 6.k and STILL GOING! I hope yall like long ones cause dayum. I have no self control.

Masterlist Plug 😽

[thestoriesfold]

WHERE THE LIGHT TOUCHES MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Its weird to imagine that the ghost stories they tell you at night is real. Jaden thought they weren’t, that the world was perfectly normal. At least the version of it she was once in. One weird dream leads to another, and suddenly the things that go bump in the night exist and she’s hunting them with the Winchesters. In a world where she doesn’t know anything, will she discover her true identity? Or will fate have other plans for her?

WARNINGS: (check specifics at beginnings of each chapter) 18+, gore, violence, mentions of death, character death, murder, explicit, eventual smut, overall supernatural themes (that’s a warning in of itself). PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ EACH PART!

Slow burn. Angst. Smut. Dean Winchester x OC. Sam Winchester x OC. Castiel x OC. NOT POLY THOUGH!

Playlist:

Wendigo: Word Count - 3.3k

Dead In The Water:

Part One: Word Count 5.9k

Part Two: Coming very soon

Part Three: Right after that

Series Taglist (make sure you're tagable love): @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @bkindex @bitchyfestivalbouquet @amaria-laird @alixxhere

[thestoriesfold]

can I please be tagged everything spn (including already started fics) thank you!!!

Of course! Anyone can just ask to be added and I’ll get right on it! Just make sure you’re taggable and I’ve got you my lovelies! Masterlist will be up soon! 💜

[thestoriesfold]

Wait so do we like the whole Castiel fic anymore? Or like sibling reader with the Winchesters? Cause boy do I have smth if we do. I’ll write it, I swear to god!

Edit: Okay okay- here 👀

[thestoriesfold]

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴

𝘞𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘰

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘜𝘱 𝘕𝘦𝘹𝘵 - 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.3𝘬

Warnings: MINORS DNI! Please bro. Some light cussing. Supernatural (it's a warning on its own I think), early seasons, character is female OC but you can apply it however you'd like, bad writing.

If you don't know what a GameBoy is, or which one I'd be referencing because.. well 2005.. here

Jaden’s IPod

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The rain tapped softly against the windows of the apartment, the rhythm adding to the ambience that filled the living space. A few candles flickered, and several small lamps brightened the living room with a soft, warm glow. Shelves lined with books and little knick knacks collected over the years, along with DVDs and games, decorated the room. The light from the TV and her laptop illuminated Jaden’s face, highlighting her soft features in the darkened space. She typed away, curled up under a fluffy blanket with her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. The TV played in front of her, acting as background noise for her much-needed focus.

Jaden tilted her head, attempting to work on the college assignment that had plagued her for the last week. The TV sounded off with the familiar banter of Sam and Dean, characters on the show. After months, her friend finally got her to cave and start the series. Even though she wasn’t paying much attention, as her assignments took up most of her time and energy, she was intrigued. It didn’t help that both men were very good-looking, drawing her eyes to the screen more than she cared to admit.

Like now, she peeked up as the music grew louder. Sam had backed himself and the three siblings into a corner as the Wendigo drew closer. The camera panned to the Wendigo's face, the monster looking directly into the lens.

Jaden grimaced at the image. The 2005 cinematics were still able to creep her out, even if it was 20 years ago. “Way to break the fourth wall, I guess. Ugly son of a bitch,” she muttered, looking back down at her laptop and trying not to glance back at the weird figure on the TV. She nearly focused back on her assignment before the power went out. Instead of going black, the TV simply froze. The sound of the rain felt heavy now that it was alone. The walls of her tiny apartment seemed to stretch eerily without any light from the various lamps she’d turned on previously. Looking down at her computer, she watched as the connection failed to save her progress on the paper. Her laptop was at 20% now; if the power didn’t come on soon, she might lose her mind—and her grade.

With a frustrated groan, she lifted herself from her perch on the couch, leaving her laptop behind. Her hands felt around the back of the couch, gliding along the walls for guidance. The phone in her pocket felt heavy, reminding her of the flashlight she could use to navigate the apartment. She stalked toward the door as she fished out the device, attempting to assess how bad the outage really was.

The building was pitch black, as expected this late with no power. The darkness of the hall seemed to loom closer and closer to her. Looking down at her phone, she tried to turn on the flashlight. Even the hallway lights were out. The only source of light, other than her phone, was the red exit sign above the stairway. “Great,” her voice dripped with sarcasm as she shut the door behind her. Looking down at her phone, she quickly checked the outage map, or at least attempted to. “What the hell?” Her service was out too. She tried to refresh the page a few times, beginning to worry about her paper’s viability.

An abrupt crash sounded in the living room, followed by footsteps slowly clicking along the wooden floor. Deliberate. Jaden’s head whipped up from the screen as she quickly turned off her phone, now cloaked by the darkness that threatened to swallow her whole. Her heartbeat quickened as the footsteps drew closer. She felt around for the bat she always kept by the door, her breath catching in her throat as she began to see the outline of the figure nearing her.

They wore no face, but their eyes seemed to glow against the darkness surrounding her. Bright yellow daggers stared at the girl, the smile of the figure approaching stuck out against the apartment's shadows. Brown eyes widened as she felt her hand brush against the familiar metal of the bat. She gripped the handle, finding reassurance in the coolness of the steel.

“Time to return home, treasure,” the voice sounded vicious, creepy even, as if the man in front of her was relishing the thought of whatever he was about to do.

Before she could lift the bat out of its spot, her body became stuck. It felt as if she were being held down. Her head was forcefully tugged in the direction of the intruder, who was still standing several feet away. Panic filled her body, trying desperately to gain control of her limbs as adrenaline rushed through her veins. Her voice was caught in her throat as she attempted to scream, somehow hoping that someone might save her. The footsteps grew closer before she felt the warmth of the stranger’s breath on her face. Jaden had never felt such a harsh knot of dread plummet down her stomach before.

For a moment, nothing happened. The rain was all she heard, her own lungs unable to contract in order to breathe. The eerie quiet lasted only a beat. Then, the door of her apartment swung open violently, crashing to the wall and sending photos tumbling onto the wooden floor. Glass shattering was the only thing Jaden heard before her body was suddenly launched backward into darkness.

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Jaden sat up with a start, her voice seemingly hers to control once more as she practically shouted. It felt as if she were being pushed through deep water. All at once, pain, dizziness, and heat seeped from her skull, causing the brunette to groan as her surroundings spun around her, taunting her. Her palm settled on the spot where the pain felt the worst, and her gaze landed on bloodied fingers as she pulled away. The shock of the blood on her fingertips didn’t last long.

Her focus slowly shifted from her fingers to the cave walls surrounding her, realizing she was very much not in her own apartment or even in the city. Confusion dug in with the rest of the sensations in her skull. A man’s voice came from next to her, but it sounded muffled, as if it were underwater. Her body tensed instinctively as hands gently gripped her arms. She attempted to stand up to get away from the touch, a strangled grunt escaping her throat as the panic she’d been feeling for what felt like hours erupted on its own.

“Whoa, Jade,” the voice in front of her was different from the shadow man who had just been there moments ago. It broke through the fog that had plagued her since waking up here. Her brows furrowed in confusion as her vision focused on familiar shaggy hair and hazel eyes looking down at her. She blinked, trying to maintain the unblurred image. “You took a nasty hit on the head. Let’s get out of here.” His voice was gentle, as if he were concerned.

Sam.

Jaden’s mouth parted, realizing just where she was. She looked in the direction of Dean, seeing him looking back at her, with the three siblings behind him. He looked worried, glancing at Sam before turning to help the others out of the cave. She blinked, accepting the help Sam offered as she stood. This had to be some weird dream; she had been in her apartment just minutes ago, twenty years in the future, in a world where monsters in the dark didn’t exist. The man holding her up was a character for her entertainment. She remembered watching Jess die on the TV screen not even thirty minutes ago when she started the series. She couldn’t yet find her voice, too stunned and confused as she limped out of the cave with Sam holding her steady.

The tall male was like a lifeline. Her muscular legs might as well have been jelly, unsteady beneath her. The cave around them seemed to pulse with her vision, matching the throbbing in her brain. His hands holding her up did little to quell the thoughts that raced through her at an unprecedented speed.

The woods offered comfort as they all practically limped through the forest. Green was everywhere; trees and bushes surrounded her in a way her city mind couldn’t fathom. Her brown eyes took in her surroundings, appreciating the beauty despite her brain feeling like mush. This was some twisted dream. The pain was very real, but she’d been able to feel things in dreams before. Whenever she woke up, she would be seeing all the doctors.

Sam noticed how she had drawn back into her head, unsure how to reach out to her. His voice was gentle as he coached her through the trek to the ranger station. He wasn’t sure whether her state was due to the pain or the fact that she had watched a man die right in front of her. He tried not to stare outright, but her far-off look was alarming to both brothers. The muscle in his jaw twitched, his arm securely wrapped around her back to keep her steady and protect her from anything else that might randomly come their way. His eyes scanned the trees, ensuring there was nothing else lurking in the woods.

As Dean spoke to the park ranger, explaining the “bear attack,” Jade leaned on the wooden post, staring off into the woods. The wind rustled the leaves of the trees, helping soothe her disgruntled brain as the cool breeze settled on her skin. Sam lingered not too far from her, just in case; the blood seemed to have finally stopped from the cut on her head. But given how far off she was, he wasn’t taking any chances. That Wendigo had given her some airtime. As Dean came back out, he looked over at Sam and Jaden, nodding them over to where the trio sat on the other side of the patio.

They all agreed on the story they’d tell the authorities. Dean and Sam crafted a faux narrative everyone had agreed on to explain if questioned. The three were oddly good at lying about what had happened. Jaden watched as the youngest lied through his teeth like a pro, trying to distract herself as the paramedic disinfected her head wound. Sam and Dean handled most of the questioning from the authorities, and she was thankful for it. The woman bandaging her forehead was like a shield from unwanted conversation. She focused on talking to Jade herself, not really bringing up anything about what might’ve happened while they were out in the woods. Instead, they chatted about regular things—new episodes of TV shows Jade had barely heard of, which she would lie about, pretending they weren’t almost twenty-year-old shows in her mind. Reality was setting in as worries crept into her thoughts; maybe she wasn’t dreaming.

Once it was all said and done, she sat on the back step of the ambulance. Her gaze settled on the reflection of the emergency lights on the concrete. The harsh red light reflected back onto her own face in the night’s darkness. How did she get here? Who was the man in her apartment? Who was she here? Sam and Dean looked at her as if they knew her, as if they knew her well.

Her focus returned as shoes settled into her line of vision; Sam was walking up to her while Dean talked to the girl she now remembered as Haley. “You okay?” He sat next to her, looking over the work the paramedics had done. He offered a small smile, trying to give her a sense of comfort.

She looked up at Sam, thinking about what had just happened to him a week ago—at least, to him. After what he had been through, the guy was still worried about her. She hesitated, her mouth opening and closing a few times. A deep part of her trusted him, unable to truly accept that he was a stranger. She sighed, her shoulders deflating slightly. “Considering everything,” she said, looking at him and taking in his features in person instead of on the screen. She contemplated her words, unsure if she would sound like the same Jaden he seemed to think she was. “This all just feels like a really weird dream.” She glanced away at Dean and the girl by the other ambulance. “I’m good. Just worried about you,” she added, looking at Sam with a concerned gaze. It wasn’t a lie; she had watched what happened in HD. If he was really in front of her, the empathy she had felt hours ago wasn’t going anywhere, only getting worse.

The youngest Winchester looked at her for a second, contemplating whether to talk about his feelings. To him, Jaden was his best friend and practically his little sister. If he could open up to anyone, it would’ve been her. It was always her. He opened his mouth, looking out to the treeline to avoid her knowing gaze before shutting it again with a sigh. The tension could be cut with a knife as she observed him. The guy, despite saying he was fine, looked like he felt anything but. His shoulders seemed heavy, unable to hide what his face could not.

She was about to speak before Dean’s voice carried over from the other ambulance. Both Sam and Jade watched as Haley reached up to kiss his cheek. Sam shook his head with a smirk, while Jade just smiled, watching as Dean grinned from ear to ear as the woman walked back to her brothers. The two youngest of the trio shared a knowing glance, both sharing a small chuckle at the dork that was Dean Winchester. What a weird sense of normalcy.

Both Sam and Jade stood as Dean approached. Sam teased Dean about the little moment while Jaden kept quiet. The two brothers bickered, as they always did. It was background noise she’d already grown used to. She felt an arm wrap around her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. “You good, Jay?” Dean looked down at her, assessing the handiwork of the paramedics for himself. His green eyes scanned her over, always the big brother. She nodded, naturally settling into the oldest’s side. “Yeah. Just tired,” she mumbled as they edged closer to the car.

She looked it over, her expression unreadable as the two brothers ducked into the car. She was slower, realizing they’d notice her hesitation if she didn’t get in the back seat. So, that’s what she did. She climbed in, practically crawling to sprawl out in the back. Letting her head rest on one of the spare bags, she stared up at the ceiling of the Impala. Whatever words were shared between the brothers, she didn’t hear them. Exhaustion settled in her bones, the weight of her odd reality no longer dominating her adrenaline production. Her eyes grew heavy, trying to understand how her mind could conjure such a vivid dream. With the hum of the engine lulling her to sleep, thoughts of what the hell had happened drifted to the back of her mind.

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Sam looked back at the younger girl sprawled across the back seat. Dean's jacket covered her torso, and her long legs were folded the way she always managed in the confines of the car. The soft rise and fall of her chest was a comforting sight, knowing that despite the scare they had faced today, she was alive.

Eventually, Dean's gaze out the window turned into a doze. With the car quiet, Sam had time to reflect on what had happened over the past week, especially concerning Jessica. A tear slipped down his cheek at the thought, and he quickly wiped it away as he focused on the road. The grief he’d felt for the past week was like a heavy blanket, threatening to suffocate him the longer his thoughts lingered.

His mind conjured memories of her smile, her laugh, and the way she always pushed him to try his hardest. He lost more than his girlfriend; he lost his best friend, the support he’d had the entire time he was away at college. Sam swallowed hard, fighting back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him as he drove.

The car remained silent, aside from the sound of the engine and the occasional rustle of Jaden shifting in the back seat. Dean and Jaden were asleep as Sam slowly pulled into a dingy motel parking lot. Taking a deep breath to pull himself together, he glanced at Dean, contemplating whether to wake him. The eldest Winchester didn’t sleep all too much, and he deserved it after the day they’d had. Instead, Sam sighed, climbed out of the car, and gently shut the door behind him.

The brunette walked to the front desk, noting how the teenage boy straightened up at his arrival. From Sam's height, he spotted a new Game Boy sitting on the desk behind the counter and held back a snicker as he placed the fake credit card on the stained wood. "Two queens, please," he said, raising his eyebrows as he offered an awkward smile back at the kid scrambling to grab the card reader.

He returned to the car with the room key in hand and noticed Dean awake in the passenger seat, though barely. His brother's face was slightly pouting, and his focus seemed distant, his boyish nature on display against the night sky.

When Dean caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, he looked at Sam approaching. With a grunt, he climbed out of the passenger seat as Sam jingled the keys. "Thanks, Sammy," he mumbled, rubbing his face before turning to Jaden, who was still passed out in the back seat. "She’s out cold, dude," he said, snorting at her awkward position. Her long ass legs sprawled as much as they could in the back of a sedan, and the sight amused him in the way only Jaden’s quirky self could.

He gently lifted his jacket off her and patted her leg. "Jay," he whispered softly, the endearment coming through in his tone as Sam moved to the trunk for their duffle bags.

The youngest of the trio slowly sat up as if she’d risen from the grave, a pout on her lips as she was reluctantly awakened. Brunette strands covered her eyes haphazardly from her makeshift pillow. Her brain registered little more than the desire to go back to sleep. "Why can’t I just camp out here?" she grumbled as Dean wrapped an arm around her shoulder, following Sam toward their room.

Both brothers chuckled as Sam unlocked the door to their motel room. The familiar scent of stale air and cheap cleaning supplies greeted them as he set their bags down on the couch. Dean let go of Jaden, watching her face-plant into one of the beds with an amused grin before heading to the bathroom, her body melting into the firm and probably stained mattress.

Sam shook his head as he looked at the 21-year-old, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He slowly removed his shoes and jacket, sitting on the opposite side of the bed and observing her. He missed her while he was in college. She kept both brothers on their toes, and he hadn’t realized how important she was to him until he’d left those years ago. Gently, he peeled off her jacket and sneakers, pulling the blanket up to cover her exhausted form. He settled in next to her, crossing his hands behind his head as he stared at the popcorn ceiling. He didn’t blink as Dean emerged from the bathroom, tossing his jacket onto a chair, kicking off his boots, and climbing into bed, lying face down in a position similar to Jaden’s.

Sam let out an amused huff and closed his eyes, attempting to sleep himself.

. ⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ .

Taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @bkindex @bitchyfestivalbouquet @amaria-laird @alixxhere

[thestoriesfold]

Tonight's Golden Hour: Part One

Summary: In an attempt to get closer to your coworker, you read his book recommendations. A late night welcomes a visitor in your dreams, and one interesting morning.

Pairings: Marc Spector x gn!reader, Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockely x gn!reader, Y/N is used sparingly.

Work Count: 3.6k

WARNINGS: Past trauma is brought up, religious trauma briefly mentioned, use of witchcraft, cussing, brief past abuse, reader has a moment of paranoia and anxiety.

Notes: I’m not going to lie to you, this entire chapter was written on the computer at Walgreens. It was dead, and the boss man didn’t care. So tada! Lemme know if you wanna be part of the series taglist in the comments!

Introduction 🌙 Masterlist

Steven slouched in his seat at the counter, mumbling to himself about that damn bird. It was nothing new for Marc or Jake to keep the body overnight, but it still sucked the morning after. He rubbed his face, struggling to fight the sleep that was heavy on his eyes. He sighed looking up as Janet walked out from the office, carrying a book with her as she hobbled. You had taken to the second floor, sorting books into the correct order, putting others back. The task was an easy one, the idea of organizing something so simple came easy. It gave your mind the distraction it so desperately craved, humming quietly as you practically scaled the shelf. Your eyes fell on an old Greek folktale, grinning to yourself as your fingertips traced down its spine. 

The book opened in your hands, finding itself on one of the middle most pages. The words came to focus on the tale of Persephone and how she had been taken to the underworld. How Demeter entrusted the help of Hecate, the goddess of magic, of the moon. She guided those at cross-roads with her three heads. To most of the people in your life, the fact that she was so heavily associated with witchcraft made her a target of belittlement. Especially from the clan house, Thirios. For a name so close to the word monster, they claimed to walk in the light. You never truly understood why they were like it, never truly followed their ideals. Questioning was wrong, it was always wrong. The beauty of free thought helped you and your family escape at one point, but it never stuck. Not with your family. Comfort was in what they knew, what they grew up by. And yet, here you stood. The book was in your hands as you read over the story, a small grin on the corners of your lips as amusement ran through you. You were now stuck in London, living a life that was not attached to your old one, to who you were. 

“Excuse me?” You dropped the book, body reacting from being startled. Eyes went wide and breathing came to a sudden stop. A reaction that came naturally from years of the clan’s work. “Sorry to startle you, love” Steven’s curls came into focus as he patted your arm gently. His touch was different, gentle. It was unbelievably warm if you thought hard enough. It brought you back to reality just enough to pay attention. “Just wanted to let you know, Janet got us some lunch. Come on down whenever you’d like” he smiled at you. He knew something was off by the look in your eyes. How when you offered a small grin back, how it was like the ones you gave to tiring customers. Brown eyes glanced over you once, he wasn’t sure if he could call it concern, but he didn’t like how you seemed so far away.

You both reached for the book simultaneously. The two of you glanced at each other as your fingers touched, the graze of his warm fingertips against your cold. His brown eyes read yours, offering a quick smile as you took the book into your hand and stood. “Don’t worry about it, Steven. I was just enjoying a good story” you wiggled the book in your hand as Steven stood with you.

His hands seemed to find themselves clasped together, eyes moving to focus on the book in your hands “You like Greek mythology, eh? What story are you on?” He shifted to take a look at the contents, looking down at the page you’d been reading. “Hecate” he paused, hand coming to run his chin in thought. He’d been a mythology geek since the dawn of his existence, but Hecate was never mainstream enough for him to really look into “Not overly familiar. I’ve always been an Egyptian man myself.” 

“I grew up in Greece, actually. This was a bedtime story for me, basically” you looked at Steven, his eyes still reading over the text. You took notice how his mouth moved slightly with each word he past over, like he was giving all of his effort to soak it in “I’ve always wanted to know about Egyptian mythology and folklore. Up until recently, I haven’t had the time to try. Any recommendations on where to start?” At that point, Steven was looking at you with the biggest grin on his face. Someone taking interest in his hyperfixation? His thing? If you weren’t careful, he’d fall in love. He already thought you were just beautiful.

He blinked, shaking his head as he realized he had been staring, snapping out of his trance quickly “You want my recommendation?” he sounded shocked, pointing to himself. Honestly, he was. He was so accustomed to being brushed off, past experiences had him lonely and left him feeling rejected, even with his interests “Follow me then.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That was how you got stuck reading one book after another once you got home. It had been late in the night, you could feel your body begging for sleep, your eyes burning with the need to close as you finished the third book of the evening. Your glasses rested at the tip of your nose as you slowly shut the book. A groan fell past your lips as you stretched your limbs out, climbing out of the lounge chair that you had claimed for tonight’s reading session. Your eyes scanned the space of the front parlor, remembering the noises you had heard every night for a week now. You practically saddled around opening a couple windows after collecting your barings. The cool night air seeped into the house, your legs carrying you to a small standing cabinet that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. ‘She hasn’t touched this since Pedro left’ you thought to yourself. Pedro was your cousin, one who has followed her interest into the old ways. But like everyone else, he left for clan Thirios, choosing a false lighthood. With your mind set, you opened the cabinet. In it was old supplies, herbs, incense, mortar and pestle. Your grandmother was always adamant on following your culture’s traditions. Well, your true culture, not the one developed for you by the clan. She wanted to enforce self-enlightenment and use of energy for good things, to aid yourself and others. Never to harm oneself for indulging for simplicities. Never to harm other’s in belief of cleansing their glutton. Your fingers ran along one of the carved and anointed candles, feeling the familiar inscription that decorated its white wax. You’d never committed to the same level as your grandmother. You’d only ever lit incense for a temporary sense of closure, to cleanse. That’s what you had opened the cabinet for, to pluck one stick from her multitude of boxes.

Frankincense would do the trick. You flicked the lighter, letting the incense burn for a few short moments before blowing out the flame. As the smoke slowly rose off of the stick, you slowly swirled it around you. You hoped it would bring a good cleansing to the energy that had seemed to follow you. Your sock covered feet slowly moved around the house, letting the smell of Frankincense take over. The smoke was supposed to do the job of ridding any negative energy from the house. It made you feel slightly more at ease, letting the incense burn down in its holder shortly after a lap. You could feel your eyes droop, barely able to focus on the clock that ticked right in front of you. You forced yourself to retreat, going up to your room to rest for the night. 

Your back hit the bed immediately following your shortened routine, face barely rinsed, teeth partially brushed, clothes only covering the private bits. You were too excited to curl under the blanket, to let the melatonin you'd taken earlier do its job. A final yawn left your lips before you let yourself snooze, the alarm on your phone was set, it was going to be a full nights’ sleep for you. 

It didn’t take long for soft snoring to sound in the room, your body twitching in its exhausted state as you slept. You crashed hard that night, the door slowly creaking open didn’t stir you. Your head remained glued to the pillow, eyes closed. Your brain was too encased in its nightly show of dreams. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stood in a meadow, flowers of all colors seemed to thrive all around you. The glow of the moon seemed to cast a blue tint to everything, adding a calming effect to the scene. The sounds of nature took over your ears, crickets, a babbling brook nearby. You continued to take in the scenery, eyes slowly focusing on what seemed to be a large black dog in the distance. You stood still then, unsure if the dog was friendly. Curiosity killed the cat, and this dog was huge. There was no taking chances, not even in your dreams. You’d learned enough from being brave.

You turned to the other direction, choosing to put some distance between the two of you. Perhaps, you could both have your own sense of peace in this little dream you cooked up. Your head slowly moved to face forward, taking a second to register that there was now yet another black dog standing right in front of you. It looked up at you silently, its eyes boring into your soul. Your breath caught in your throat as two more appeared from each side of your body, rounding in a circle to stand next to the one in dead center. You watched as all three fused, their bodies merging into three heads and one large body. They stood almost as tall as you now, three sets of eyes staring at you almost expectantly. All you could do was stare, mouth fallen agape as they peered at you. A huff left the middle head’s snout, sitting back on its hind legs. 

“Do not fear me, child” A woman's voice echoed in your skull, causing you to jerk your head in every direction. Where the fuck is that coming from? Fear wasn’t present in your thoughts, no. Something about this entire thing felt oddly normal for you. You were confused, but not scared. You were eerily calm about hearing a voice in your head. The dog huffed in front of you once more, all three heads looking at you with golden orbs. Their intensity caused you to gulp, your head tilting as the voice sounded once more. Rich, seemingly powerful, and dreamlike “You are safe here, my child. I wish to merely visit, to warn and protect.” 

This only confused you more, making you step away from the creature slightly. It’s stare was intense enough from a distance, you didn’t need to be closer “Protect me? Protect me from what? Who are you?” You hadn’t yelled, but your voice edged on the side of suspicion. As it should, this was a crazy dream. Despite the reasonable part of your brain telling you to be afraid, you didn’t stray far. The distance between you and the dog was only a few feet more than what it previously was. Something about the energy radiating off of it drew you in, enticed you.

“They know what you are, child. They know more about you than you do yourself. You must find it, my child” the woman’s voice said nothing else, the dog only stood and began to walk away. You tried to walk towards it, but your feet were stuck in place. A distorted jingle started to play out as the scene changed. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You groaned as you stretched, the alarm on your phone was becoming an annoyance the more you heard it each morning. The blankets went with you as you rolled off the bed to approach your phone on the dresser, forcing yourself to stand before turning off the alarm. You rubbed your eyes tiredly as the small jingle came to a stop. There was a chime of your ringtone, a rare thing to ever really happen, as you changed into clothes more suitable for work. 

You hopped over back to the dresser, your legs threatening to trip themselves before you smack your weight into the wood. The dark pants were pulled to your hips and zipped quickly before you swiped to unlock the phone. You adjusted the small amount of accessories you’d put on, looking down at the notification banner. It was from an unknown number ‘we miss you’ it read. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, a thousand questions running through your mind all at once. Your fingers twitched, tempted to respond, but you knew better. They wanted to see if you would, you knew that. But it didn’t make it any less terrifying. Was it actually someone you came to love? Was it mom? Pedro? Cassias? Vanessa? You backed out of the conversation, tucking your phone in your back pocket with a shaky hand. You looked into the mirror, taking in the fear that rested on your face. A forced breath came from you, you studied yourself in the mirror. 

“You are safe. They cannot get you here” Your voice was shaky, unconvincing, but you had to try “You escaped. You escaped.” 

The words would be repeated both outloud and mentally as you took your usual route to work, eyes scanning every detail in case someone was out to get you. Every movement you made was quick, swift, like you want to make yourself as sparse as possible. Your mantra didn’t help with the memories that flooded your imagination. It didn’t help as you remember Georigios’ hands on your throat, holding you down as a way of ‘cleansing the darkness’ that had found its way into your gaze. How he spoke with such hatred, how he seemed to smile while doing it. How his grip tightened, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You have a devil inside you, fighting against your superiors, you little bitch” his body would close in on yours, hand gripping your neck as he put his knee in between your legs “The devil inside you needs to be removed, to be broken so it won’t return” his eyes moved over your body slowly, mouth quirking as you made a small choked noise “I think I’ll help with that..”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Oof!” your body collided with another, both parties seeming to struggle to stay up. That brought you back into reality, feeling a warm pair of hands encase your upper arms. Too warm, he’s found you, he’s going to do it again. Leave, leave, RUN “You alright there, love?” It was Steven’s voice, it made you focus on how his brown eyes looked over your face. The way his emotions showed hard on his face, the way his worry seemed to shine through puppy dog eyes. It grounded you. He only stepped back once you had gained your footing, smoothing your sleeves before offering you his signature grin “How is the book reading going?” 

It was like the dark cloud over your head was lifted, a smile of your own came to your face. So this is what relief feels like. It was small, but it was real. His chocolate eyes bore into yours, like a warm blanket wrapped around you despite the breeze having other plans. “Good, very good” you spoke quickly as both of you started to walk into the library. “I believe I’m starting to have a favorite among the Egyptian gods, actually” you stated as you both moved to place your coats on the rack.  

“Oh? Do tell” he turned to you once his jacket was properly placed on the hook. You couldn’t help but grin at how excited he seemed. He was giving you a breath of fresh air. 

You looked up at him, arms crossing as you raised your eyebrow “Ah, not that easy. You have to guess” a little smirk covered your features. He gave you the ‘oh come on’ look, mimicking your crossed arms. Just like that, you switched. He noticed how you seemed like nothing was wrong. Part of you did too, thinking it was a way to ignore the anxiety that crept at your throat.

“But there’s so many, we’ll be on lunch before I can list them all” he couldn’t help but whine, feeling both Marc and Jake cringe in the back of the headspace. He didn’t care however, this was his conversation, and you were his coworker. Hopefully, you’d call yourself his friend, he’d certainly like to “At least give me a hint” he demanded. 

“You want a hint? Well, Mr. Egyptian expert” you let out a laugh, shaking your head at his antics “Fine. How about I give you one at lunch?” You and him had created a small habit of at least ordering from the same place. One of you usually did rock-paper-scissors to see who would go and retrieve it, the other’s cash in hand. However, you naturally proposed the idea of getting it together, the company would ease your anxiety riddled mind. You didn’t mind how Steven tended to do most of the talking when you two worked alongside each other, in fact it was easy for you. You just listened, put your thoughts forward when needed. Ask questions when you felt the need. His voice would soothe you with how passionate he got sometimes.

He straightened at that, as if every muscle went tight in his body. His eyes were staring at you, slightly widened. That sounds like a date. Something he hadn’t been able to even consider in so long. The only thing that pulled him back from the surprise was Marc’s voice telling him he was taking too long “Yes, of course! Lunch, yes. I would love to discuss it with you over lunch” he answered rather quickly out loud. Blew it.

Normally, you would’ve tripped over your words. Overthinking if he just saw that as a potential date, but you could only let out a small chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. So what if it was? You were two grown adults “Get to work, Grant. I’ll talk to you at lunch.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Janet could tell something was up. She saw it in the way you and Steven would fidget when speaking to each other. She saw in how the two of you seemed to be ten years younger as you both tended to mess with each other whilst working on returns. She couldn’t help but hum in amusement as she watched the two of you not so subtly race for the counter in order to check someone out, eyes catching on how Steven’s smile seemed so bright. She’d taken notice how you seemed to relax and come out of your shell over the last two weeks of working here. 

You stifled a giggle as you peered around the counter, Steven on your heels before you hopped in the chair. You wheeled it to the front side, smiling at the stranger. This would be the literal last thing you did before you took your scheduled lunch break. The transaction was quick, and you looked over at Steven as the stranger walked away, offering him a friendly flip of the bird before you stood. He shook his head with a laugh, following you once more as you both went to the coat rack. 

“You are something else” he said quietly, both shrugging on your coats. His hair moved down onto his forehead as it was tilted downwards. He waited for you to put yours on before stepping forward to open the door “For you, your greatness.” 

You let out a small chuckle as he did a little bow, curtsying like a the dork you were in response “What a gentlemen. Over men should take notes” you stated, slipping through the door with your coworker on your heels. 

The cold rush of air hit you like a brick to the face, Steven seeming to fair it a bit better. He still rubbed his hands together before shoving them into their respectful pockets “So” he paused, watching as his breath blew in front of him in the cold air “Where to?” he glanced down at you, watching as you all but shivered from the cold. 

“Somewhere warm, with food” you said quietly, your hands bunched into your coat pockets. Your breath was also in the air, and it reminded you of why you hated the cold. 

“I think I have an idea. Come on, love” he said gently, guiding you with a warm arm around your shoulder. It was a short walk, only about eight minutes in total. In the cold, it felt like twenty. By the time you’d reached the doors to the restaurant, you were shivering. Steven didn’t seem much better, cheeks and nose flushed from the cold weather (and holding you, but he’d never admit to it). 

You both politely smiled at the waitress who greeted you, following her into the seating area glad to escape the cold. She left two menus on the table with a promise to return shortly, allowing you both to settle into the booth and shrug your coats off to the side. 

It didn’t take long for the conversation to start, both of you sharing information about yourselves. The drinks came your way, and eventually so did your food. You indulged in trying a vegan option out of pure curiosity, offering it to Steven if you didn’t like it. 

That’s how you both ended up chuckling at something he had said, barely waiting to properly chew to respond to the other. “So, you’re telling me” you took a second to swallow the sip of lemonade to cleanse your palette “that you made a statue actor break in order to give you dating advice? That’s-”

“Sad I know” his eyes dropped from yours, smile faltering slightly.

You tilted your head, grabbing his hand gently and offering him a smile “I was going to say that it's oddly relatable” you patted his hand, looking at him as he slowly met your eyes once more. “Besides we all need advice sometimes” you shrugged, slowly withdrawing your hand before you picked up on some vinaigrette left over on his face “You’ve got a little” you pointed to the corner of your own mouth hoping he’d pick up on what you meant. 

He instantly picked up the napkin, wiping at his mouth quickly. You could see the red growing on his ears, something that made you smirk. You watched as he licked at his lips, finding it amusing that he still seemed to have such a boyish innocence to him “Did I get it?”

His brown eyes met yours as you let out a small huff, leaning over the table to get it off the one spot he missed with your thumb. You absentmindedly licked it from your finger, unaware at how flustered that made the man in front of you as he watched. He stared for a second, before clearing his throat.

“You still haven’t told me the hint yet” he looked at you with an intensity that you didn’t expect as your attention fell back down to him from the tv above his head. He leaned back against the booth, giving you a lopsided grin “Besides, you still have to guess my favorite Greek deity.” 

“You’re right, I owe you a hint don’t I?” you smiled back at him, mimicking his movement to lean back. “Alright how’s this? He causes all nostrils and every throat to be filled with fresh air” you quoted it directly from the mythology book you had read the previous night. You waited as he pieced it together, seeming to be his own little encyclopedia. 

“There’s no way you like that bloody pigeon?” You furrowed your brows in confusion as he spoke, it almost sounded personal if you didn’t know any better. His expression lightened as he realized his tone, shaking his head and smiling apologetically “Sorry, sorry. I’m not overly fond of that one. No judgment though, the folklore does make him seem cool I suppose.”

You blinked at him, noticing the change in tone. The corners of your lips slowly fell, and it made his stomach churn with guilt. Your head tilted as he picked his fork back up, seeming slightly uncomfortable “So what about my hint, hmm?” you offered a deflection from the Egyptian end, offering to dive into Greek. Although if he was so heavily opinionated, he’d probably have a ball with yours regarding the Greeks. 

He took a second, swallowing some of his water before he cleared his throat. “I’ll give you a hint, but only over dinner. Let’s say, Thursday at six?” how he got through that without blowing it was a mystery, but he watched as you blushed nonetheless.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thanks for reading, totally let me know what you think!

Series Taglist: @realityshifter111 @emily-roberts @yoisthename @ahookedheroespureheart @dinwifey @lonelyburd @babyymeme

[thestoriesfold]

TONIGHT’S GOLDEN HOUR MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: He could feel something off about you. He could feel a darkness that followed your every move. Yet, they fell anyway. Many mysteries laid in the house your grandmother left you, ones you’d never really wish to uncover. Hecate calls. Will you answer? Or will your past come to haunt you once more?

WARNINGS: (specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter) 18+ DARK PAST. Cult culture. Religious trauma. Grooming. Explicit. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. Abuse family, death, murder, gore, witchcraft. Any smut written will be consensual sex only, but there will be past references to dubcon. PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ.

Marc Spector x gn!reader, Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockely x gn!reader, Y/N is used sparingly. Friends into lovers trope.

Playlist:

Introduction - Word Count: 2.1k

Part One - Word Count 3.6k

Series Taglist: @realityshifter111 @emily-roberts @yoisthename @ahookedheroespureheart @dinwifey @lonelyburd @babyymeme

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for any posts regarding this series or any other in the comments. Thank you.

[thestoriesfold]

Tonight’s Golden Hour: Introduction

Summary: You find a new beginning. A new country, a new place to live. But this isn’t living, not yet. Something was off.

Pairings: Marc Spector x gn!reader, Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockely x gn!reader, Y/N is used sparingly.

Word Count: 2.1k

Content: angst (barely), paranormal stuff happens.

Warnings: probably cursing and language, death in family!, references to cults, eventual references to witchcraft.

Notes: This is NOT proof read. Horrible grammar- probably. Honestly, I just had to get this part out of the way. Be gentle with me, I’ll actually cry. This series will come with its own soundtrack, you’re welcome.

Masterlist 🌙 Pt. 1

The day was dreary, probably normal for regular Londoners. But that wasn’t normal for you. No, you never planned on being here. Your home was warm when this was cold. You could hear nothing but the city, where as home would offer the potential of hearing the waves of the sea, maybe music. The building in front of you mocked you with its old sense of luxury. You never had anything more than a small house, one that was fit for a lonely person as yourself. You could never understand how your late Nana could ever come to have this. Your family seemed to struggle to stay afloat trying to leave what felt like a cult. It was honestly, it was the only reason you’d ultimately agreed to be here. Those bastards always found a way back into your lives, taking another family member with every prolonged visit. It hurt to know that you were the only one left not falling for the tyrannical brainwashing that had persuaded your loved ones.

That wasn’t completely true, your grandmother died before they could get her back into their grimy hands. That made you, the person standing in the driveway, smile slightly. Maybe she got out after all, escaped. Maybe I have too, you thought. It was one thing to move across the country, it was another to end up halfway across the continent. Yet, here you were, all of your belongings sorted between a suit case, back pack, tote, and carry on bag. Safe to say, moving was easy for you.

You only then felt the chill of the London breeze against your skin. Perhaps, you got ahead of yourself. But that wouldn’t matter any longer, not as you shoved your hands in the fabric of your jacket sleeves and forced onward. The closer you got, the deeper the pit in your stomach grew. The house looked normal, but you ultimately felt off. Your head turned to look behind you, seeing nothing but cars passing by the thrush covered fence, and the steel gate that separated you from the rest of London. The garden that surrounded the house was small, probably perfect for someone like your grandma. You blinked at the rose bush that had started to wrap around one of the porch’s posts.

All you could hear at this point was the sound of cars passing by behind you. You couldn’t pinpoint the feelings churning inside your stomach as you slowly unlocked the front door. The hinges made their old age known as the door swung open. It revealed the main entrance. The small corridor led into the front parlor of the house on one side, the other leading to a lowered study. Your eyes scanned the stairway that led up to the other floor of the house. Your mouth fell agape as you stepped fully into the house. The house was still furnished in your grandmother’s particular style.

“‘M glad she stayed so up to trends” you had enough mind to say as you put your jacket on the coat rack. The house looked like one in a movie. Part of you felt lucky despite the eerie feeling radiating off the walls. You gently shut the door behind you, giving yourself a tour of the front parlor. Antiques lined the house from top to bottom, every piece seemed like it could’ve been a hundred years old. You’d never truly know.

You crossed the corridor, stepping down into the large room of the study your grandmother had left you. Books older than time itself lined the shelves along the walls. You remembered how you’d sit and read together for hours. You remembered your grandmother swearing on putting lavender and a splash of milk in her cup of tea, opting to do it for her oldest grandchild as well.

The sigh that flooded the room was one of emotions that you had held onto for months now. It took so long to get things sorted out, you hardly had enough time to mourn. In fact, your grandma was all you really had anymore after the rest of your family joined that stupid group. Tears gathered in your eyes as you ran your knuckles over an all familiar title. One she’d read you every night as a child. Before everything went wrong.

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It had taken an hour for you to memorize where everything you would come to regularly use within such a large house was. You sunk into the chair that accompanied a large mahogany desk that rested in front of an even larger mantled fireplace. A sigh passed your lips once more, something you’d come to do a lot as the years blurred on. Your hands gently lifted the computer from your bag, bringing it to the desk and began your search. “Y/N has to get themselves a job” you mumbled. You just needed something for food and transportation. The will made sure that this house would cost absolutely nothing for her grandchild, meaning you didn’t have to do anything extravagant. To your luck an opening at a nearby library was available, several actually. “Guessing the job of a librarian is a dying breed, eh?” You asked yourself as you clicked on the application.

Filling out the information came easy, you finished up quickly. Your back hit the chair, making it lean with you. Your eyes closed slowly. Tomorrow was going to be something else, something new. You just hoped that nothing would screw it up, especially yourself.

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You forced yourself from bed days later, doing your best to look presentable for the job interview. Your eyes took in the variation of shades that made up the look. You looked normal, maybe the circles under your eyes was what threw you off. A small huff left your lips as you finished getting ready, hoping you’d remember to eat afterwards. Important things, they made you undeniably nervous. Too nervous to eat, too nervous to relax until the damage was done. That’s what you reminded yourself as you stepped onto the coach, paying the fee due to not having a pass just yet. The library wasn’t that far; you knew that, but you didn’t want to risk walking along the streets alone yet. You weren’t from London. The white knuckle grip you had on the bus rail was a reminder of why you missed home. You could walk everywhere.

Your eyes stayed focused on the stops above the headline, eager to get off the damn thing. The man next to you had done a piss poor job of not staring. You could feel the Greek curse leave your lips as you stepped down onto the sidewalk, finding your footing as you took in the large building. Nerves flowed through your body till this point, now you were just dead excited. Working with books, in a huge library. You could only imagine what you could get your hands on.

Hasty with your movements, you quickly stepped through the main doors. Your hands found their way around each other as you approached the counter, an awkward smile gracing your lips as you approached a much older woman. She was older than even your late grandmother. The wrinkled face looked up at you, eyes lighting up to see someone actually show up for an interview. You greeted each other, the old lady taking a while to come around the counter. It didn’t matter, you would wait. Something about the old woman smiling at you like that, would give you the patience of three saints.

“Hello there, darling! It’s so nice knowing the young folk still appreciate places like this” she gestured to the vast room that contained centuries of literature. “I suppose, we should get to business shall we? Here dear, follow me.”

You merely nodded, opting to follow the woman “Thank you so much for accepting my application, this place is beautiful” you admitted. Astonished, your eyes scanned over the two floors of paper. You almost missed Janet calling a man over, his dark curls swirling in different directions as he approached the two of you.

“Ah, Steven! Hello. This is the new hire I was telling you about” you turn to the man in front of you, both hesitating to speak too long for Janet. She ended the silence, looking between the two of you. “Anyway, Steven, would you mind covering the counter while I take ‘em to the office for our little interview?”

He took a second to break away from whatever trance had overtaken him. He could hear Marc’s voice in his head, but he ignored it. He’d gotten better at that lately, offering a lopsided grin as he spoke “It was great to meet you, Y/N. I hope it goes well” he offered a small nod of the head before turning around to the counter.

His face fell as Marc’s voice started in his head, telling him that he made it weird. You didn’t take notice of how his shoulders deflated slightly as Janet directed you to the back office. ‘Great job, Steven. Really’ Marc’s voice dripped with sarcasm as Steven rounded the counter, slowly sitting in the chair.

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Both of you walked out with grins, Janet hobbling slightly ahead of you as she approached the front desk. Your eyes met the dark brown of Steven’s, causing you to give him a thumbs up. An almost childlike excitement was rolling off of you, glad that this had gone your way. He mimicked your hands “Congrats! Welcome to our dainty little crew” he chuckled as Janet shook her head.

“Speak for yourself, Grant. Nothing on this body is dainty just yet, young man” her tone had a sense of fire to it, causing you to let out a small laugh “I expect to see you both tomorrow bright and early” she spoke to the you both pointedly. With that, you and Steven exchanged a glance. He was taking in your features the best he could, you were observing him. Almost mentally preparing for whatever tomorrow’s little show of the ropes would be like. You didn’t like not knowing.

You said your goodbyes shortly after Janet took over the counter once more. As your shoes hit the pavement, a grin graced your lips. You’d gotten a job, a nice one at that. Your grin grew as you saw a coffee shop just down the street, still early enough in the day not to be completely flooded. That day was a good day, despite the creaks in the floorboards that night keeping you awake. Despite the shadows that bent and twisted, despite feeling like a presence was watching as you struggled to finally fall asleep.

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It was like something held you down, eyes wide open as the moonlight flooded into the room. Your eyes looked around, watching as the shadows of the tree outside seemed to curl inwards. Your breath came out as quietly as you could allow it, feeling your fingers twitch. The house creaked as you lay there. You were convinced your mind was playing tricks on you. This was some twisted dream of yours. You had the imagination.

Your body was stuck, pressed to the bed with an unseen weight. At least you thought so, until a book that fell from your dresser jerked your body up from the mattress. A twinge of anxiety burrowed itself in your chest, this house was more than old enough to be haunted or something. But, it couldn’t be that. Right?

Your bare feet on the cold floor made you more aware, more awake as you bent to pick up the book. Your hands slowly turned the book over, allowing you to see the old, and rather dusty cover. You felt your brows furrow as the title was in Greek, mouth falling open as you spoke the title out loud, Greek being your mother-tongue “Εκάτη Σκοτεινή Μητέρα?”

As you finished the last syllable, your door peaked open. The hinges whined loudly, your body jumping as you felt your heart nearly explode. Your breath was labored, you knew better than to move, than to make a sound. But you had to, this was your house now. Your bare feet slowly moved along the cold wood, every other step causing the floorboards to creak beneath your weight. You slowly descended the stairs, opting for the fire poker as a weapon in the case of an intruder. Wide eyes checked every possible crevice of space in front of you, heart beating loudly in your ears.

You found yourself in the study, already having cleared the house of any odd doings. Your hand slowly loosened on the fire poker, not seeing any signs of anyone ever being in the house. With a sigh, you put the poker down. Why was this happening? Looking at the ashes that littered the fire wood, you rubbed what little sleep you had gotten from your eyes. It was early, three in the morning was what the clock said. There was no way you were sleeping. You shook your head, opting to tidy up the study a little. You adjusted small things here and there, coming to the final corner. Squinting at the small statuette that had fallen into the floor. You picked up the two pieces it had broken into, taking in the sight of the bottom’s three womanly figures. In your other hand, you observed three different heads, the one in the middle sporting some sort of moon emblem. Letting out one final huff, you looked at the pieces in your hands “Merida..”

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Translation: Hecate, Mother Darkness.

Also- Merida in an assortment of languages means shit. :)

Thanks for reading, totally let me know what you think!

[thestoriesfold]

Question:

Is the Moon Knight fandom still alive? I've got a potential series sitting in my lap atm. I just wanna know if I'm gonna indulge in this alone? It is what it is.

Edit: here y’all go