Jensen Ackles X Reader - Blog Posts

I always find myself rereading this series, it’s probably my favorite Jensen Ackles fanfic ever. I love reading Jensen Ackles fanfics in general because you can just make stuff up, most Dean Winchester fanfics follow canon and sometimes I don’t want to read about monster hunts or anything, for me it’s hard to find good AU Dean Winchester fanfics, mainly series, but I LOVE this Jensen Ackles fanfic series, ME ENCANTA

If I Fell For You Masterlist

Summary: The reader is hired as Jensen’s new nanny to help take care of the kids after a deadly accident. He’s friendly and kind, something the reader isn’t used to from her employers, and the pair become friends. But friendship can quickly turn into something else and for a recent widow that hides his problems and a reader with a complicated past, something else is exactly what they both need in their lives again…

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 133K

Warnings: language, car accidents, age gaps, mentions of injury/death of a spouse/death of a parent/depression/anxiety/past child abuse/past sexual assault (not graphic), mild violence, self-worth issues, smut and smut related topics, loads of fluffy moments

A/N #1: This series is complete! Also, this series is absolutely no hate towards Danneel. I’ve never seen if from you guys but a quick reminder wife-hate isn’t welcome here.

A/N #2: I’ve been working on this for months and this is my longest single fic to date. I’m extremely pleased with how it’s turned out!

_______

Keep reading

WOOOOOO this was TEWWW good

birthday boy ・ COWBOY!JENSEN ACKLES. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ library

eighteen plus. minors do NOT interact.

୨୧ synopsis. jensen's birthday turned out perfect, but he wants more—stealing you away from the bonfire to claim you in the barn.

୨୧ warning(s). smut | oral (m!receiving) | unprotected sex (are we even surprised LMAO) | semi-public sex | barn sex | praise | mild dominance | dirty talk | slight roughness | orgasm control | birthday sex.

୨୧ word count. 1.1k

୨୧ kari notes. it felt necessary to do cowboy!jensen for the prettiest birthday boy ever !!!!!!! i miss him dearly and i know i've left him + the christmas series to collect dust (my bad 😔) i promise it was not intentional <3 i hope to get back to it someday and FINALLY wrap the series up. anyway! enjoy this somewhat of a revival of cowboy!jensen and happy birthday to jensen <3 my sugarplum pookie wookie princess butt 🤍 i love him so very much. 🥹

the fire crackles, casting a golden glow over the field, laughter ringing out as jensen's friends pass around beers and swap stories. the air smells like burning cedar and summer grass, the heat of the flames licking at the night breeze.

you've spent the entire day making sure his birthday is perfect.

his favorite breakfast in bed, a homemade cake, little surprises scattered throughout the day—things only you would know he'd love. but this? the bonfire, the laughter, the way his friends are all gathered around, celebrating him? this was the part he didn't expect.

and from the way he keeps looking at you—warm, lingering glances, like he can't decide if he wants to say thank you or take you apart—you know he appreciates every second of it.

he looks damn good tonight, too.

the sleeves of his tan flannel are rolled up to his elbows, the fabric unbuttoned revealing the white wife beater clinging to his chest. his old levi jeans sit low on his hips, worn in just right, and his brown cowboy boots are planted firm in the dirt, like he's the only thing keeping the earth steady.

but it's his eyes that get you the most. green, sharp, locked onto you every time you move. like he's waiting. like he's hungry.

so when he finally makes his move, it's not subtle.

a warm palm at the small of your back. a quiet, "come with me, sweetheart."

no one notices when he leads you away, his fingers curling around yours, guiding you past the parked trucks, past the wooden fences, into the barn where the scent of hay and leather lingers thick in the air. "been waitin' all damn night to get you alone," he mutters, voice low, gravelly, sending a shiver straight down your spine. "you spoil me too much, darlin'."

"only 'cause you deserve it," you tease, fingers tracing slow over his chest, feeling the heat of him through the fabric.

his lips twitch, eyes darkening. "yeah? think i deserve somethin' else too."

the way he says it—the weight behind those words—makes your stomach tighten, anticipation thrumming through your veins.

"yeah?" you murmur, letting your hands drift lower, teasing at his belt buckle. "what's that, cowboy?"

his breath hitches, just slightly. his hands flex at your waist.

"get on your knees, baby."

heat floods through you, pooling low in your belly, and you don't hesitate—not when he's looking at you like that.

the dirt is cool beneath your bare knees as you sink down, your hands sliding up his thighs, slow, deliberate.

you undo his belt, pop the button, drag the zipper down with aching precision, just to watch his breath stutter.

"teasin' me now?” he rasps, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your chin up.

"maybe."

but you don't tease for long.

you pull him free from his jeans, his cock already hard, thick and heavy in your palm.

"fuck, look at you, sweetheart," he mutters, thumb brushing over your cheek, voice rough. "prettiest damn thing i've ever seen."

you smirk, pressing a slow kiss to the tip, then licking a teasing stripe along the underside, feeling him twitch in your grasp.

"jesus," he mutters, his head falling back for just a second before his gaze snaps back down to you, dark and demanding. "c'mon, sweetheart. know you can take it."

so you do.

you take him into your mouth, slow at first, letting him feel every inch as your lips stretch around him, your tongue swirling just right.

his groan is deep, raw, his hips jerking slightly as his grip tightens in your hair.

"yeah, that's it, baby," he grits out, watching you, his chest rising and falling faster now. "too damn good f'me."

you hollow your cheeks, take him deeper, until he hits the back of your throat, your hands gripping his thighs for balance.

"love this mouth," he mutters, his voice thick with need. "gonna make me come if you keep that up."

you hum around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath, his hips stuttering forward.

but before he can get too close, he yanks you off him, his breathing ragged, his cock slick with your spit.

"as much as i'd love to finish like that," he says, voice uneven, "need to be inside you, darlin'."

before you can even respond, he hauls you up, spinning you around, pressing you up against one of the thick wooden beams.

his hands are everywhere—pushing up your dress, ripping your panties off, gripping your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"hold onto me," he orders, and you do, arms looping around his shoulders as he lines himself up, teasing you with the head of his cock, watching it drag through your slick folds.

"jensen—" you start, but the words die in your throat as he thrusts into you, stretching you open in one smooth, deep stroke.

"goddamn, baby," he groans, his forehead pressing against your shoulder for a moment, his breath hot against your skin.

"you feel so good."

you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders blades, your body already trembling from how deep he is, how perfectly he fills you.

"been watchin' ya' all night," he mutters, his voice rough as he picks up the pace, his grip on you tightening. "watching you in that little dress, smilin' at me like you knew exactly what you were doin'."

he drives into you harder, deeper, the friction sending sparks up your spine. the rough drag of his jeans against your thighs, the way his body presses firm against yours—it's too much, too good, setting your nerves on fire.

"wanted you to want me," you manage to whisper, and his responding growl sends a shiver straight through you.

"always want you," he rasps, his hands gripping tighter, his pace turning relentless, desperate, like he's making sure you feel it, like he's carving himself into you.

"fuck, baby, mm—"

his fingers slip between you, rubbing tight circles over your clit, the pleasure winding sharp and fast in your belly.

"do it f'me, sweetheart," he urges, his breath ragged, "wanna feel you—wanna feel you come all over me."

you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clenching around him, making him curse, his rhythm stuttering.

"mmm, good girl," he groans, burying himself deep one last time before he follows, spilling inside you with a shaky moan, his body tensing before finally relaxing, both of you breathless, clinging to each other.

for a long moment, there's nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the distant sounds of the bonfire happening outside.

jensen chuckles, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips.

"best damn birthday ever, sweetheart."

៸៸៸ 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @titsout4jackles @daylighted @bluemerakis @honeyryewhiskey @figthoughts @dollyfiles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @soldiersgirl @sunsbaby @abox-of-rocks @whisperingdaze @eepwtf @chris444evr @deanswidow @voidsuites @jasvtsc @cowboysandcigarettes @beausling @stereotypicalbarbie @bejeweledinterludes @jensenacklesballsack @h8aaz @sunsbaby @jjmbbg @freeluigihesbae @suckitands33 @ultravioletrayz @unfortunate-brat @a-lil-pr1ncess @notsocoqquete1 @deerlysacred @benscumgluzzer @chevroletdean @deanangel @bluestrd @rubyvhs @ohsc @deansw1fe

Hope

IMAGINE: I have no absolute way to describe this fluffy mess of a story. I hope it’s sweet enough that it’ll give you cavities. WORD COUNT: 1.4k

“Jason! I swear to god; stop leaving this damn mask around!” You exclaim.

You had just found this creepy mask made to look like a rotting human face in your dresser. Your lovely boyfriend thought it was funny to constantly hide this horrible costume around the apartment the two of you shared. Jason always got a kick out of it.

Jason emerged from the bathroom, his face red from laughing. “I-I’m s-sorry babe,” he choked out, wiping a tear as he did so. “I couldn’t help it!”

Rolling your eyes, you grab the mask and toss it in his face. “You dick! You’re going to make me late!” Rummaging through the drawer, you find a dark blue t-shirt. “Aha!” You exclaim. “Thought you could hide from me!’

Pulling out the shirt, you quickly tug it on before heading towards the kitchen. You hear Jason follow you quietly as you prepare your lunch.

“Do you have to go?” He whined childishly. Playfully glaring at him, you nod.

“Yes, you know Brett would kill me if I didn’t. I promised him I’d be there today.”

“Why?” Jason grumbled again.

“The shelters’ been down on workers lately, and most people are too busy to volunteer. I said that I’d put in more hours to even it out.” Hearing him groan again, you cock your head.

“What’s the matter, you big baby? It’s not my fault people don’t enjoy working with animals.” When he doesn’t reply, you shrug your shoulders. Finishing up your lunch, you search for your keys.

“Can I come with you?” Jason pipes up.

Pausing in your search, you look at him curiously. “You?” You ask, amazed. “Badass Jason Todd wants to help at an animal shelter?” Jason shrugged meekly before smiling.

“I’m bored. Besides, it might be nice to help for a change.”

“Brett! We got company!” Your boss poked his head out of his tiny office and grins when he sees the two of you approach.

“Well, I’ll be darned!” He exclaimed, letting his country roots show. “Now who is this young gentleman?”

“I’m Jason,” your boyfriend introduced himself. “I’m here to help with whatever you need.” Brett clapped his hands and cheered.

“Thank heavens. We’ve been needing volunteers lately.” Jason looked to you, a smile playing at the edge of his lips.

“So I heard; now what can I do for you, chief?”

Your boss quickly explained that all they had fed the animals, and all that was left was to interact with the dogs. “Now boy,” Brett directed Jason. “You need to watch yourself around Charlie. She’s sensitive. You can’t keep your back to her for long.”

After Brett left, you calm Jason down. “Don’t listen to what he said. Charlie’s a sweetheart. You got to give her time to warm up to you.”

Soon, you approach the kennels, where the dogs greeted you with much enthusiasm. Chuckling, you grab a bag of dog treats.

“Here.” You hand Jason a meat stick. “Give this to Charlie.”

Glancing at the row of cages, the anti-hero raised an eyebrow. “Which one is Charlie?” Gesturing to a certain kennel, you head over.

As you get closer, the dog inside doesn’t budge like the others do. Jason follows close behind.

Getting to the door, you open it. The dog still doesn’t move. “What’s wrong with her?” Jason asked curiously.

“Charlie… She’s had a bit of a rough past. Worse than the other dogs here.” Nodding his head, your boyfriend knelt beside you.

“How come she doesn’t have a label on her cage like the others?”

You observe Jason as he eyes the white-furred canine. “Her name isn’t actually Charlie. We just call her that because her… Previous owners didn’t give her a name. She doesn’t really respond to anything we call her.”

As Jason lowly whistles, you watch ‘Charlie’ perk up her ears. The pitbull hesitantly turns her head, causing your boyfriend to gasp.

They scarred her face; several marks ran across her face in perfect symmetry. Her eyes were a vibrant blue; they seemed so bright until you noticed the left side of her face. The fur was gone, leaving only pale pink flesh.

“She used to be a fighter,” you explain gently, holding out your hand. You watch as the dog flinches but continues to reach for your open palm. You practically coo when she leans into your touch. “We consider her lucky to be alive.”

Jasons silent, so much so, that you hesitate to ask if he’s okay. You’re surprised when he shakes.

“What kind of monster does that? What sane person turns an innocent creature into this… This weapon?”

Taken aback by his response, you look at your boyfriend with wide eyes. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Jason shut his eyes. Sensing his stress, the pitbull slowly approached the door.

Amazed, you watch the dog nudge the anti-hero carefully. When he doesn’t react, she tries again.

Jason’s anger melts as he opens his eyes. The pitbull’s stubby tail wags as she leans against him. You watch as your boyfriend eagerly responds; gently scratching the sides of her neck to rubbing her ears.

“She really likes you,” you tell him, watching the way the dog melted into Jason’s touch.

“How long has this beauty been in here?”

“About five months. Soon to be six. Usually, when people come in here, they want a puppy or a ‘proper’ looking dog. 'Charlie’ here doesn’t fit the bill.”

Jason continues to shower the dog in affection as you say your hellos to the others. By the time you finished your rounds, the brunette was still with the broken puppy.

“Are you trying to make me jealous?” You ask him, feigning anger. The playfulness fades away as you watch the two.

“You’re really attached to her, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t respond, but even you know the answer. A blind man could see the bond beginning to form.

“Why wouldn’t anyone want this sweet little thing? She’s perfect.” Jason rubs her head once more before turning to you. You can already see the wheels turning in his head.

“You want to get her, don’t you?”

His cheeks turn red as Jason stutters. “W-well… She could use a n-nice home. And you always wanted a dog. She’s perfect. We can give her the life she deserves.”

Joining in, the dog gives you kiss after kiss, coaxing you to adopt her.

“Well you are adorable,” you tell her, teasing Jason. “Is that a yes?” He asks excitedly.

If that man had a tail, it would probably cause a tornado with the way your boyfriend was acting.

“I’ll go get the paperwork from Brett.”

“Sign here,” Brett directs you and Jason. As you write down your signatures, your boss pulls out another paper.

“Now, since you want to adopt a dog without a name, you can call her whatever you want.”

Jason looks to you hopefully, silently begging you to let him choose. Smiling, you nod.

“Go for it.”

Ecstatic, he quickly presses his lips to yours before turning to Brett. “I think Hope seems like a fitting name.” Hearing him talk, the pitbull’s ears perked up.

“Hope. Not bad son. Not bad at all.”

Brett prints down the name with a smile. You watch as he stamps the paper with ease, adding his signature soon after.

“There you go,” he tells you, handing you the official papers. “You are all free to take Hope home.”

Jason looks ecstatic as he brings Hope out to the car. A smile never leaves your lips as he helps her into the vehicle.

“This is where you are going to sleep,” Jason instructs Hope. He points to the foot of the bed. “You can get as many cuddles as you want.”

“Cuddles?” You ask him. “Since when do you use the term cuddle?”

“Since I wanted to. Ok?” Your boyfriend asked in a rush, hiding his pink-tinted cheeks.

The two of you then calmly watch as your new pet inspects the home. Deciding it was suitable, Hope faced you. Her muzzle lifted at the sides as she eagerly wagged her tail.

Today was a good day.

Voodoo Doll

Imagine: Dean Winchester doesn’t believe that he can truly fall in love with someone. Even after catching up with you, an ex-hunter, he can’t help but deny his growing feelings as some magical sham. He can’t care for someone as he does you, right? Word Count: 5k

I don't even like you, why d'you want to go and make me feel this way?  And I don't understand what's happened, I keep saying things I never say.

"What is she doing here?" Dean asked Sam. He sent his brother a quick glare as you waved in their direction before returning to the bookshelves.

"Y/N offered to help us with this case," Sam told his brother. "Be grateful; she flew in yesterday. Give her a break."

The two silenced themselves as you approached them. You grinned stupidly as you proudly held up a pile of books. "I got those books you asked for Sammy," you declared, brushing a stray lock of hair out of your (Eye Color) eyes.

Why are you still here talking to us? Dean thought. Sammy and I need to get going on this case. You're distracting m- us. You're distracting us.

"His name is Sam," Dean told you sternly. "Ever thought of using it?"

Rolling your eyes, you shot the hunter a grin. "Like you're one to follow rules, Winchester," you joked. Adjusting your coat, you glance out the shop's large windows. The snow was falling at a faster pace than it was before.

"I better head back to the airport," you informed the younger brother. "If I don't leave now, I'll be stuck in town with you morons until the planes are ready to go. Good luck with that 'test' loser."

You struggled to give Sam a hug. He laughed as you tried to wrap your arms around his midsection.

"You aren't even trying," he teased, watching as you groaned in frustration. Your grunts turned into squeals as Sam picked you up.

Rolling his eyes, Dean watched the two of you giggle with glee as you both messed around in the shop. People passing by ‘awwed' at your cuteness as you continued to act like fools.

"Are you guys done?" Asked the older Winchester as he looked away from the scene. Something about it left a foul taste in his mouth.

"Aww, someone mad I'm not giving him any love?" You teased cheekily. Sam let go of you, allowing you to approach Dean. You opened your arms wide and gestured to him. "Want a hug?"

"Pft, no!" Dean stated, crossing his arms. Unfazed by his rejection, you got your arms around Dean. The hunter could feel himself growing warm as you smiled up at him.

"Don't deny it, you love it when I hug you."

No, I absolutely despise it, I- Does your hair always smell this good? Dean thought.

Rolling his eyes, the eldest Winchester brother tried pushing you away. "Don't you have to be someplace?" He asked you.

With wide eyes, you pulled away. "Right! I have to get home!" Sam cleared his throat, catching your attention.

"I think you're a little late for that Y/N," he told you as he watched the heavy snowfall. "Snow's getting bad out there. I'm sure the airport's shut down by now."

The hunter glanced at the almost hidden Impala and grimaced. "Even the car's going to be a hassle today."

Dean scoffed at the thought of his baby being left out in the cold. But even he had to admit getting the vehicle out of the snow would be a pain in the ass.

The car quickly left his mind when he focused on you.

You had started to pout once you realized you couldn't leave town. It made Dean's chest hurt as he watched you try to come up with a backup plan.

"I think we got room for one more in the motel, Sammy. What do you think?" Dean asked his brother.

Your eyes quickly lit up as you looked between the two brothers. "You're serious?" You ask, crossing your fingers hopefully.

As Dean looks to Sam, he pretends to sigh as if he already regretted the suggestion. "If you don't like it, I can always change my-" The hunter struggled to catch you as you launched yourself at him.

"You guys are lifesavers!" You exclaimed as you did the same to Sam. The tallest of the brothers was more prepared as he caught you with ease. Dean tried to not pay attention to this.

Instead, he shrugged as if it was nothing before heading towards the shop's exit.

"Don't thank us yet. You still have to choose who you want to bunk with. We only got two beds."

I can feel you watching even when you're nowhere to be seen. I can feel you touching even when you're far away from me.

"How much longer do we have to stay in this crap town?" Groaned Dean. "It's been like a week and a half dude. I don't like it!"

The brothers had headed out to the local bar. The roads that led out of town were covered with ice. The locals told them it would be a death sentence if they even attempted to leave. Seeing as they already wrapped up the hunt a day prior (Vampire was imitating both a demon and a spirit) the Winchesters hit the town.

You had stayed back at the motel as you weren't feeling too well. Dean was reluctant to leave you by yourself, but you insisted. Now and then, he caught himself looking at the empty chair beside him.

"I'm an ex-hunter," you had told him. "I think I know how to take care of myself Dean-o."

"It's been four days, Dean," Sam chastised. "Besides, the weather forecast says it should be over by Friday. We just got to wait a day." The long-haired man chuckled as he took a swig of beer.

"Besides," he quickly added. "I don't think you'd mind much. You seem to be having fun sharing a bed with Y/N."

"What... What did you just say?" Dean struggled to ask.

Usually, if his brother said something that was in some manner of insulting, the hunter would verbally assault his ass until Sam didn't know what hit him. This time, however, the man was caught off guard.

"You heard me," Sam replied. "You like sharing a bed with Y/N."

"Do not!" Dean shot back.

Even as the words left his mouth, the hunter glanced around the small bar. He didn't want you to hear.

Wait, what the hell am I doing? Dean asked himself. You're not even here and you're still causing me trouble Y/N!

The bartender heard the Winchester's outburst and silently approached the two like a shark in bloody waters. She offered a flirty smile as her ruby red lips parted to reveal pearl-like teeth.

"Can I get you boys anything else?" She asked, looking towards Dean. The sibling smiled at her, nodding.

"Just a beer, please," he asked politely.

"Nothing else, hot stuff?" She asked, quickly batting her eyelashes at the hunter. Raising his finger, Dean fingered through the menu he still had.

It took him an extra second before he quietly set the laminated sheet down. "I'll have the seasoned fries," Dean told the girl. "With extra ketchup." Turning to his brother, he asked if he wanted anything. Sam shook his head slowly as he eyed Dean curiously.

"That'll be it, sweetheart," the hunter told the girl, giving her a small smile.

The bartender scoffed as she wrote everything down. Sending him a glare, she stalked into the kitchen and yelled at the cook to start up the fryer.

"Wow," Sam uttered as he watched his brother casually finish his beer. When Dean didn't respond, he went on. "I can't believe you just dissed that girl!"

"So what, Sammy?" Demanded Dean. "I'm not in the mood for shit like this. And besides, where am I going to take her? Not at the motel!"

"The car," Sam answered. "Her place. Some empty park. The alleyway. The-"

"I get it," his brother snapped. "I just- I'm not interested."

Chills suddenly went up the man's spine as he refused to look at his hand. It tingled painfully as he clenched his fist.

Dean could still feel you, his skin under your hand. It made him crazy not to touch you.

You woke up with a groan. The light of morning shot through the windows as it gently rested across the bed. Feeling a yawn rise, you try to stretch out your arms.

I say try because a certain green-eyed hunter refused to let you.

Glancing down at your waist, you see Dean's arm wrapped around you. Looking over your shoulder, you see said man resting against you peacefully. He looked so relaxed, it would have been a crime to wake him.

That still didn't change the fact that you had to go pee.

"Dean," you whisper. "Dean!" When he didn't budge, you poked his light scruff.

"Dean..." You whined pitifully. "I'm going to piss the bed if you don't get off of me!"

Sam, having just awoken because of your not-so-quiet yelling, had noticed your struggle and woke up his brother for you.

"DEAN!" Sam shouted.

Automatically, the hunter woke up. Using his reflexes, he threw himself over your body and held you close to his chest. His breathing grew erratic as he looked for signs of danger.

Sam couldn't help but laugh as he took in your flushed face. With slow movements, you gently tap Dean's bare bicep.

"Dean, I need you to get up," you tell him gently. He sent you a questioning look, but it quickly dawned on him what position the two of you were in.

Sending you a sheepish smile, Dean released you from his grip. Getting off of the bed, he rubbed the back of his neck.

"So..." He started nervously. "Anyone want burgers for breakfast?"

He touched you. Dean touched you and he loved it. The hunter wasn't exactly sure what to feel about it.

Love seemed like the right term. He didn't hate you. He wasn't disgusted by you. Definitely not.

Ugh, this was high school all over again. Just a big, giant pain in the ass.

"Shut up bitch," Dean sneered.

As much as he wanted to scream and cry, and just have a good old-fashioned fit, he couldn't. It was impossible.

Dean Winchester was inexplicably but deeply in love with you.

Tell me where you're hiding your voodoo doll 'cause I can't control myself. I don't wanna stay; I wanna run away, but I'm trapped under your spell.

"Think she has a hex bag or something?" Dean asked Sam.  

The snow cleared up in town, allowing you and the brothers to leave. You were going to continue with your original plans of going back home, but Dean offered you to stay with them.

You ended up quickly agreeing, but only after when they promised to drive you back home to get more of your stuff.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sam asked. "You really think Y/N planted a hex bag? Just to make you love her?"

"Would you stop saying that!" Dean barked angrily.

In his burst of anger, he threw the clothes he had into the air. A stray pair of boxers landed on his head as he glared at Sam.

The youngest hunter backed down once he noticed how riled up his brother had gotten. "All right," he quickly stated. "I'll shut up."

Sending him a final scowl, Dean went back to searching his stuff. Clothes were scattered across the room as he went through his stuff.

After a while of finding nothing, Sam piped up once more. "I don't know why you think she planted anything. Y/N's a hunter. She knows better than to-"

He was suddenly cut off by a small object smacking him in the face. Using his reflexes, he caught the item before it fell to the ground.

"What did I tell you?" Dean demanded. With quick movements, he slipped on a fresh shirt before shouldering his way past Sam. Plucking the hex bag out of his hands, the older brother left the room and made his way to the one right next to it.

"Open up Y/N!" The hunter spat as he pounded on the door. It took him several times before it opened. Just as he was about to let all hell loose, Dean noticed what you were wearing.

"What was so important that you couldn't wait until after I finished showering?" You asked him, trying but failing miserably to keep your obvious anger out of your tone. Keeping a tight grip on your towel, you lean against the doorway, ignoring the droplets of water running down your back.

"I um..." Dean trailed off. He glued his eyes to yours as he avoided looking down. "You, uh... Left something in my... You gave me a, um..."

"Oh!" Your eyes lit up as he held up the cloth bag. "You found it! I was going to give it to you in person, but-"

"Wait," Dean cut you off, snapping out of his dazed trance. "You wanted me to know about your little hex bag?"

"Hex bag?" You question. Before he could explain, you laughed. The hunter stood there confused as you held your sides, careful to keep the thin cloth secured around your chest.

"It's... It's not a hex bag!" You told Dean after finishing your laugh. "It's just a poorly wrapped gift." Taking the bag from him, you slowly unwound the leather strap and show him the contents.

A silver bracelet shined under the high-noon sun. It glimmered as you brought it closer to Dean's face as you showed him.

"I got this for you a while back. Sam has one too, but I don't think he found his yet. An old priest had given these to me and I wanted you guys to have them."

"Oh," Dean said sheepishly. "That... That was nice of you." You couldn't help but laugh as you watched the hunter accept the gift.

"Why didn't you check it?" Before he could explain, you shot another question. "Did you really think I planted a curse on you?"

"Well- No! Of course not! It's just- Well, things have been- I don't want to talk about it!" Dean stumbled over his words. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but walked away, back to his room instead.

You watched as he disappeared inside and shut the door. It hurt to see him go, but you shook your head.

He probably had a good reason, right? You ask yourself. Something must've happened and- He's mad. No doubt about it.

With a groan, you shut your own door and return to the bathroom to continue your shower.

It hurts in my head and my heart and my chest, and I'm having trouble catching my breath. Won't you please stop loving me to death?

"How did you dumbasses convince me to come back to this bullshit?" You ask the brothers as you adjust your gear.

Over the years, you learned to wear certain things when going on hunts. The most important thing was to wear thick leather boots with an equally thick jacket. Your weapons rested snugly in their harnesses as you adjusted the knife in your boots.

"It's a mystery to me," said Sam as he chuckled in the passenger's seat. He looked over to his brother. "Got any ideas?"

"No," Dean replied quickly, suddenly focusing on the road. His hands moved soundlessly against the wheel as he pulled into an empty dirt lot.

As he parked the car, you glimpsed silver on his wrist. The sight of it brought a smile to your face.

Sam had shown you his golden one earlier. He loved it. And although Dean hadn't said it, you were sure he did.

"Besides, it's a ghost," Dean told you, adding on to the previous conversation. "It'll be as easy as pie. Nothing special."

With a scoff, you exit the car and head to the trunk. The boys follow you as you pop it open and grab things. "What are you doing?" Sam suddenly questioned you as you slipped rings on your fingers.

"Yeah, we ain't dressing up for anything fancy now," his brother commented. Ignoring their words, you adjust the jewelry.

"Salt filled cartridges are fun and all, so are crowbars. But wouldn't it be nice to physically hit one of these bastards?"

The boys look at each other curiously before staring at your fingers. They both recognize the dark gray metal resting upon your hands. Dean took one of your hands and inspected them. It was hard to hide your red cheeks, but the darkness of the night provided help.

"I will never understand why you would ever stop hunting with ideas like this," he told you quietly.

The blush disappears as you pull your hand out of the hunter's grip. "Is hunting worth losing those close to you?"

You say nothing more after you gather your things. The boys quickly suit up as you make sure everything was ready. They signal you with a quick pump of their shotguns. Sam quickly took the lead as he wandered into the woods.

"So this guy just lured people into his tiny little shack in the middle of nowhere and just killed them?" You asked Dean. You were trying to learn all you could about this last-minute case.

"Yep," the Winchester confirmed. "Sick freak. Rumor has it, he even ate some of his victims."

Shuddering, you glance over your shoulder to look at Sam. He sat in the back of the Impala to catch up on his sleep. Dean quickly asked that you sit next to him in the front.

"Cool, we have a cannibalistic ghost on our hands now. Great," you tell him sarcastically.

"You'll be fine," Dean told you as he pulled into the motel parking lot. Shutting off the car, he looked over to see you were still nervous. With smooth movements, he gently grasped your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Sammy and I,  we're here for you. Don't you forget that."

You kept repeating that in your head as the three of you encountered Franklin in his bedroom.

He had just captured his latest prey from a nearby campsite. You found him hovering over the girl's limp form with a knife in his hand.

Chunks of the poor soul were already gone. Franklin raised his weapon to grab another handful until Sam opened fire. The ghost disappeared, but you all knew it would be back.

You rushed to the girl's side as the brothers started searching the tiny house for something Franklin would be attached to. Your hands fumbled over her throat as you checked for certain marks around her neck.

Bruises in the shape of a chain rested on the skin all around her neck.

"He's got the chain!" You shout to the brothers.

In the report, Franklin used a welded chain to choke out his victims. Police never found said chain, but they suspected it was somewhere near the house. Guess the ghost got it back.

As a hunter, all three of you concluded that Franklin was connected to the linked metal, and that's what was keeping him here.

You could hear noises come from the other rooms, alerting you that the men were trying to draw out Franklin. You knew it wouldn't work.

Just saying considering he was standing right in front of you.

With a roar, Franklin outstretched his arms, his face red as a tomato. Using your reflexes, you ducked under his flailing limbs and aimed for his ribs. The dead farmer howled in pain as the iron contacted his... Well, disembodied spirit.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" He screamed, spinning around to make eye contact with you.

"Y/N?" Both Dean and Sam cried out at the same time. Footsteps rang through the tiny shack as they ran towards the room you were in. Franklin expected this immediately.

Just as the boys were going to come to your rescue, the bedroom door slam shut. A series of items flew in front of it, preventing any entrance. Cries of anguish could be heard from the other side as the Winchester brothers fought to break down the wooden slab.

Franklin turned around with a devilish grin on his face.

"Just you and me now, darling," he croaked out, quickly flashing forward.

"Hang on in there!" Dean shouted at the door. With another heave, he slammed himself against the thick object.

Pain shot through his nerves as he bounced off the slab. A hiss unconsciously left him as he tried again and again.

"We need to find the chain," Sam told his brother, grabbing him by the wrist. His fingers brushed against a warm metal, surprising him greatly. Instead of commenting on it, the youngest Winchester dragged him away.

The two rummaged through the shack, searching for anything that resembled the supposed murder weapon.

"It's not even here, goddammit!" Dean soon screamed, tossing a table across the room. The wood smashed against the wall, just another noise compared to the screeching in the other room. Without another word, he grabbed his .45 and shot at the door.

The bullets embedded themselves in the wood as he fired repeatedly. It wasn't until the soft clicking of the gun told him he ran out of bullets.

"Dean," Sam suddenly caught his attention. "Can you hear that?" Dean sent him a nasty look but listened quietly.

Over the sounds of angry bellowing and broken items, the boys heard you shouting. At first, it made Dean's heart clench until he connected the cries.

"Guys!" A loud crash. "Get the-" There was the sound of glass breaking. It made a horrible noise as it landed on the floor. "Necklace! Find it!"

A loud thump resonated against the door. The brothers knew what Franklin was doing to you. It only made them react faster.

"I think I saw a necklace in the other room!" Sam told his brother.

Not sparing a second, Dean pushed him out of the way and ran down the hallway. The room was a mess from its previous search. A glint of gray caught his eye as he looked over the floor.

"Start a fire, Sam," the hunter demanded as he grabbed the dainty chain. He heard the floorboards being ripped up as he too fumbled for his salt stash. They couldn't stop now. They were so close.

The smell of smoke caught Dean's attention. He looked at the growing bonfire with fury as he fisted the necklace.

"Die you son of a bitch!" He grunted before tossing the jewelry.

You couldn't find the will to scream anymore. It seemed impossible.

Franklin had just finished tossing you around like a rag doll and went in for the kill.

Moonlight flooded the room from the broken window as he hunched over you. His necklace glinted in the light as he leaned in close.

"Guess you're all alone now," he taunted, raising his blade dramatically. Just as he was about to bring it down, it fell out of his grip.

The ghost screamed in pain as he went up in flames. The knife fell beside your head as you looked towards the door.

"Y/N?" One of the boys called out. "You safe?"

Unable to respond, you watch as the door suddenly slammed open, knocking over things that were previously blocking it.

Dean ran in first with Sam right on his heels, his shotgun at the ready for the first sight of danger. He threw it to the side once he saw you were alone and rushed to your side.

"We should have never let you come with us," he told you quietly as he pulled you into his lap. "It wasn't worth it. Almost losing you."

With a cheeky smile, you half-heartedly smacked him in the chest. "I'm glad," you whispered, finding it hard to talk. Screaming took a lot out of you.

"If it wasn't for me, it would've taken you forever to find the necklace. Then you boys would look worse than me." The pain was slowly lulling you to sleep. It was so strong, you closed your eyes.

Dean smiled weakly. He can't help but press a kiss to your forehead. His eyes widened at his action but didn't pull away.

"You missed," you whispered quietly. The hunter barely caught the words, but they were too quiet to fully comprehend.

"What was that?" He asked. But you had already fallen asleep.

"It hurts Sammy," was the first thing you heard.

You tried turning towards the sound of the voice, but it was hard. Your bones felt stiff and your muscles ached with every movement. For now, you settled to listening to the voices.

"What does Dean?" Asked Sammy. The floors creaked as a heavyweight sunk into the bed you rested on.

"Every time I look at her, I can feel this... This indescribable pain in my chest. My head feels heavy and so does my heart. I can't breathe knowing she's like this."

A rough hand took yours and squeezed it gently. The course fingers and smooth palm let you know exactly which Winchester was holding you.

"Dean, it's only been a day. She'll wake up before you know it," Sam tried to console his brother.

"It might have been just a day, but a day is all you need to lose someone," Dean replied softly.

The brothers sigh. By now, you know that the two of them are shaking their heads hoping you won't succumb to their darkest thoughts. You would be okay.

Silence filled the room like a thick fog.

Neither Dean nor Sam made a noise. The only thing that alerted you of their continuous presence was the older Winchester's soothing grip.

Sam found the stillness to be rather deafening. Slowly clearing his throat, the hunter excused himself from his brother, quickly stating that he needed to pick up groceries before leaving. Soon it was just you and Dean.

You found your muscles slowly unclenching as you focused on Dean's touch.

"You don't know how badly I want to call you stupid Y/N," the hunter mumbled. "But I can't. Because I know your reasons were honest, and I appreciate that."

His breaths came out sharply as he tried gasping for air.

"I don't know what you've been doing to me but it's killing me to see you this way. I've..." The Winchester wheezed as the grip on your hand tightened. It quickly released once it grew too painful.

"It's hard to pretend I'm strong and all that when you're here, reminding me I could've done something. Something that would have prevented this. And I didn't."

Dean goes into a rant, complaining that it was his fault he let you join him and his brother and how he was an idiot to let himself get so close to you. It broke your heart to hear him put himself down, but it also brought you small hope.

He cared much more than he let on.

Ending his tirade, Dean sighed as he gave your hand a last squeeze before letting go. "I got to grab some things from Baby. Be right back."

Warm breath gently fanned your face, throwing you off for a second. Then it hit you.

Dean's lips pressed themselves against your forehead. They lingered a second longer than he liked, but you didn't mind. Pulling away, you repeated the words you told him a night ago.

"You missed," you mumbled cheekily, opening your eyes to little slits. You watch as Dean looked at you with a frozen expression, unsure what to do now.

"Y-you're... You're awake!" He stuttered. "You didn't- You were sleeping the entire time, right?"

"You missed Winchester," you repeat, ignoring his question. "How many times are you going to miss?"

"W-what?" Dean asked, still taken aback of your sudden awakening.

Rolling your eyes, you struggle to sit up. Seeing this, the hunter made a move to help you, but you pause. With a small grunt, you prop yourself against the headboard before looking up at Dean.

"These," you gesture, tapping your mouth, "are my lips. Do I need to put a sign so you don't miss them?"

Dean still looks confused, making you roll your eyes and grabbing the collar of his coat. Pulling him down, you slam your mouth against his.

At first, the hunter's unsure at the sudden contact. Seeing that he hadn't yet responded, you go to pull away until he had gently cupped your face and returned the favor.

The strong taste of whiskey filled your mouth as Dean softly kissed you back. Things grew heated as you tugged at him to pull off his jacket. He slowly pulled back with a chuckle.

"Calm down, you feisty thing," Dean teased. "You're still healing. Can't risk you hurting yourself again."

He presses another kiss to your forehead as he smirked cheekily. "You'll be the death of me, Winchester," you told him, leaning back into the motel bedsheets.

"I could say the same about you, babe," he replied.

this is home

Jensen Ackles x Actress!Reader / Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader <platonic>

not saying anything about anyone. this idea materialized and went with it.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Jensen had barely stepped into the terminal before the chaos began.

Flashes. Voices. Pens. Phones.

“Jensen! Over here!”

“Jensen! Just one shot, man!”

“Can you sign this, Jensen?”

He gave his trademark half-grin, the one that made crowds light up, and started signing with an ease that only came from years of practice. Photos, posters, a few weird objects. He didn't ask questions. Just kept it moving, just like always.

TMZ was in the mix, too, and so were a few of those guys with binders full of photos they’d resell online. Jensen didn’t love it, but he handled them the same way he handled everything else in public — smooth and unbothered. Or at least, looking that way.

“Where’s Y/N today?” someone called.

He didn’t look up, just said, “She’s across the country shooting right now.”

“Oh, that’s with Pedro Pascal, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen chuckled as he handed back a marker. “Lucky bastard gets to hang with her all day.”

Laughter rippled around him. He leaned into the joke, let it deflect any of the sting. He was cool with Pedro. Friendly, even. It wasn’t weird.

Mostly.

Then someone from the crowd — guy with a beard, phone out — pushed closer.

“Hey Jensen, you seen the new photos from set?”

Still signing, Jensen blinked. “What photos?”

The guy turned his phone around.

Three photos.

The first: you and Pedro laughing with the director, looking like a couple of kids in the best kind of trouble.

The second: Pedro saying something that had you smiling so wide Jensen could practically hear the laugh that went with it.

The third one hit a little lower. You, tucked under Pedro’s arm, head resting comfortably on his shoulder, the two of you watching something off-screen like you’d done it a hundred times before. Like it was natural. Like it belonged.

Jensen’s jaw ticked.

Barely.

He gave the phone back.

The guy raised an eyebrow. “What’s up with that, man?”

“Uh, nothing, man.” Jensen shrugged, light as air. “That’s common on set when two lead actors are playing each other’s love interest and they’re close friends like they are.”

Another signature. Another fake smile.

“You just have fun with it all and enjoy the ride. I know how much she likes working with the guy and how much fun she’s having on set. And that’s important, you know? Because other than the director, they’re the leaders on set — they set the tone for the rest of the cast and crew.”

He was answering without thinking now, defaulting to PR mode as the weight of the third photo stuck with him. How natural it looked. How comfortable you were in Pedro’s arms. How Jensen had never seen that particular smile when you were with him.

He wrapped things up quickly after that, making excuses about catching his flight, shaking hands, thanking the fans. Cool. Calm. Collected.

He stayed that way all the way to the gate.

All the way to his seat in first class.

All the way until the plane door sealed shut and he finally exhaled, jaw unclenching as he pulled out his phone.

He typed, erased, typed again.

Finally, he sent the message:

Need you to call me ASAP. Saw the new set pics.

He stared out the window.

Trying — and failing — not to replay the way your head rested on Pedro’s shoulder like it had every right to be there.

You were sitting in your trailer with your makeup half-done and your feet kicked up on the little sofa when your phone buzzed.

Jensen 💚: Need you to call me ASAP. Saw the new set pics.

Your stomach dropped.

You stared at the message for a second too long, rereading it like the words might change if you blinked hard enough.

You pulled up Instagram. Nothing on your feed yet. No tags. Then you checked Twitter — and there it was. A trending post. Your name. Pedro's. Someone had zoomed in on a few candid shots from set.

First one: You and Pedro laughing your asses off as the director waved her hands around. You remembered that moment — she’d made a joke about Pedro's "hero stance" being too dramatic, and Pedro had played it up even more. You’d doubled over laughing.

Second one: Pedro standing in front of you, making faces while the hair stylist adjusted your wig. You were grinning, wide and unfiltered.

Third one: …oh.

Oh.

You were leaning into him. Your head on his shoulder, his arms loose around you, like it was the most normal thing in the world. You looked calm. At peace. Comfortable. Too comfortable.

You swallowed hard.

Because yeah, it was normal on set. You’d spent weeks rehearsing together, shooting long days, figuring out the chemistry of your characters. You and Pedro got along — scarily well. He made you laugh when you needed it, offered you his coat between takes, always remembered to bring your favorite snack from the craft table.

But that photo. It didn’t look like friends. Not in the context of a trending topic. Not in the context of—

You clicked back to your messages.

No follow-up text.

You dialed him immediately, chewing at your thumbnail as it rang.

Once. Twice. Voicemail.

You hung up and called again.

No answer.

You hated this feeling — this wedge that had dropped between you from one image, one that wasn’t even about anything. But to him… it probably looked like something else. Something intimate.

Your trailer door creaked open and Pedro popped his head in. “Hey, we’re being called back in like, five—”

You must’ve looked pale or something, because he stopped short. “You okay?”

You nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Just… give me a minute?”

He hesitated. “Alright.” He lingered. “If this is about the photo stuff—”

You looked up sharply.

Pedro sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Someone showed me on set. I didn’t think it’d blow up like this. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said quietly.

He gave you a small smile. “If he saw that third one, I get it. He’s probably just—y’know. Human.”

You nodded. “Yeah. He is.”

Pedro gave you one last look before closing the door behind him.

You stared at your phone again. The silence from Jensen felt louder than anything else.

You hated that one still frame — one unintentional, unguarded moment — could undo so much. Or make someone you love doubt what’s real.

You tried calling again.

Voicemail.

This time, you left one.

“Hey, babe. I just saw the photos. I know how that last one must’ve looked, and I’m sorry if it hurt you. It wasn’t anything, I swear. Pedro and I were waiting to shoot a scene, and I was freezing — I didn’t even realize someone took a picture. I should’ve texted you more from set, I know things have been hectic. But please don’t think for one second that you have anything to worry about. Okay? You’re it for me.”

You hesitated before hanging up.

Then, softer: “I miss you.”

Jensen had just leveled out in the air when he finally put his headphones in.

He didn’t open a movie. Didn’t scroll through music.

He played your voicemail.

It was quiet at first — your voice hushed, gentle. He closed his eyes.

“Hey, babe. I just saw the photos. I know how that last one must’ve looked, and I’m sorry if it hurt you…”

His jaw clenched. It didn’t hurt. I’m fine, he told himself, which was the first lie of the day.

It had hurt. Not in a full-on betrayal way — he trusted you. Of course he did. But that photo had snagged something in his chest and refused to let go. The way you looked with Pedro... relaxed, safe, like he was your home.

It was his shoulder you were supposed to lean on like that. Not someone else's.

“Pedro and I were waiting to shoot a scene, and I was freezing — I didn’t even realize someone took a picture…”

He knew. He knew. He’d been in this industry long enough to recognize what was real and what was camera bait. But still — your head on Pedro’s shoulder, his arms around you — it was too real-looking. It felt like something private, even if it wasn’t.

“I should’ve texted you more from set…”

Yeah, maybe. But he hadn’t exactly been blowing up your phone either. You’d both been busy, missing each other in that quiet, painful way people do when life gets loud.

“Please don’t think for one second that you have anything to worry about. Okay? You’re it for me.”

His throat tightened.

God, he missed you. Missed your laugh, your late-night ramblings, the way your hand always found his knee when you were curled up next to him. Missed your presence, like something about the world clicked into place when you were near.

“I miss you.”

He pulled out one earbud, let the quiet hum of the plane fill the silence. His eyes stayed on the seat in front of him, unfocused. He didn’t replay the message again — didn’t need to. Your voice was already echoing in his head.

He tapped out a reply before he could overthink it:

I miss you too. Let’s talk when I land, okay? We’ll talk.

He picked up the call on the first ring.

“Hey,” your voice came through, soft but steady.

“Hey,” he said back, eyes shut as he leaned against the seat. His voice was lower than usual, gravelly from holding too much in.

“I didn't want to wait.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

A pause.

“You okay?” you asked.

He let out a quiet breath, one hand scrubbing down his face. “Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t. But I’m better now.”

“That photo—”

“I know,” he cut in gently. “I know it’s nothing. I know how sets work. Hell, I’ve probably looked that cozy with co-stars more times than I can count.”

“Still… I hate that you saw it that way.”

“I didn’t want to,” he admitted, voice raw around the edges. “Didn’t want to feel that flash of… I don’t even know what it was. Just hit me out of nowhere.”

“It was cold. Pedro offered his jacket. I leaned. That was it.”

Jensen gave a humorless huff. “Pedro’s a good guy. I know that. I like him.”

“I know you do.”

“But seeing you in his arms like that—” he stopped, forcing his words to even out. “It looked like I’d been replaced.”

“You haven’t been,” you said, firm now. “Not even close.”

He stayed quiet, letting the weight of that truth settle between you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t check in more,” you continued. “We’ve both been running non-stop. And I know how much that messes with things.”

“I should’ve called too,” he said. “Should’ve made time. We’re both guilty.”

“You didn’t ask for pictures like that to be taken.”

“You didn’t ask to go viral for existing on a film set.”

That made you laugh — just a little — and he felt something in his chest loosen.

“I meant what I said in the voicemail,” you added. “You’re it for me, Jensen. Okay? Even when it’s cold. Even when I’m tired. Even when I’m a thousand miles away.”

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

“I needed to hear that,” he said quietly. “Because when I saw that photo… I didn’t feel like ‘it.’ I felt like the guy who got left behind.”

“You didn’t. You won’t be.”

He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, voice almost a whisper now. “Can we be better about this? You and me. Even when it’s crazy. Even when the press starts making shit up. Just… keep each other close?”

“I want that,” you said instantly. “I want us solid, no matter where we are.”

“Okay,” he said. Then softer: “Then we’ll do it.”

Another pause. A gentler one this time.

“Are you headed to the hotel?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’ll call you when I get there. Maybe FaceTime. I wanna see your face.”

“You’re not gonna make me show you I’m not cuddled up to Pedro again, are you?” you teased lightly.

He chuckled, finally — a real one. “Nah. But I’ll make you prove you still smile bigger when you see me.”

“You better believe I do.”

He leaned back in his seat again, a quiet smile on his lips as the overhead chime announced arrival.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” you answered.

This time, it didn’t just feel like words.

It felt like coming home.

The hotel room was dim, lit mostly by the warm amber glow of the bedside lamp. Jensen tossed his duffel on the floor, kicked off his boots, and let out a groan as he flopped back onto the mattress.

He didn’t even bother with the TV. All he wanted to do was see your face.

He hit FaceTime, thumb hovering for just a second before he pressed “Call.”

It rang once. Twice.

Then you answered.

“Hi,” you said, appearing on his screen, wrapped in a hoodie — his hoodie, he realized — hair pulled back, eyes tired but warm.

He exhaled, a sound like something uncoiling inside him.

“There you are,” he murmured.

You smiled. A real one this time. “Here I am.”

He angled the phone so you could see him too, stretched out on the bed, shirt wrinkled from travel, hair a little messy from the flight.

“You look good,” you said quietly.

He huffed a small laugh. “I look like I just went twelve rounds with airport security.”

“Still,” you said. “You look like home.”

That did something to him. His chest ached in that gentle way it always did when you cut straight through his walls without even trying.

“I hated that we fought without actually fighting,” you said, voice softer now.

“We didn’t fight,” he replied. “We… stumbled.”

You nodded. “Well. Let’s not do that again.”

“Agreed.”

You were quiet for a moment, studying him through the screen like you were trying to memorize every detail. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes — long day, long week, maybe just missing him more than you’d let yourself admit until now.

“Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”

“I am now.”

He swallowed. “I know that photo caught me off guard. But I trust you. Even when it stings. Even when I hate sharing you with the world.”

“You’re not sharing me,” you said. “Not really. The world gets pieces. You get all of me.”

His throat tightened. “That better not just be the sleep talking.”

“It’s not,” you whispered.

You just watched each other for a moment — no talking, no pressure. Just two people staring through a screen and wishing it were a window.

“You wanna stay on the call while you crash?” he asked eventually. “I’ll just leave you propped up. We don’t have to talk.”

You blinked. “Like fall asleep on FaceTime?”

“Yeah. Old school teen romance style.”

You smiled, curling deeper under your blanket. “That sounds perfect.”

He angled his phone against a pillow so you had a good view — just his face and that soft, sleepy look in his eyes. You did the same.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said quietly.

“Goodnight, baby.”

He didn’t care how cheesy it was. Didn’t care about time zones or bad lighting or how far away you were.

Right now, he could see your face.

And for the first time in days, Jensen felt like everything might just be okay.

The soundstage was quiet for a rare moment — reset lights buzzing, crew shuffling softly, the buzz of production dulled under the weight of fatigue and late-afternoon haze. You stood near video village, holding a paper cup of now-cold coffee, eyes skimming the script pages you already knew by heart.

But your mind was somewhere else.

Back in that hotel room with Jensen’s face on your phone. Back in his voice, low and tired, but honest. Back in the look in his eyes when you told him, You’re not sharing me. The world gets pieces. You get all of me.

You knew what that had meant to him — how much it had taken for him to believe it. And still… how hard he was working to keep believing it.

Because Jensen had been burned. One too many times.

People didn’t always love him. They loved the version of him that opened doors. The famous name. The charming face. The connections. The spotlight. The screaming fans. His impeccable good looks.

But when the lights dimmed? When the camera stopped? That’s when the cracks formed. That’s when the sniping started. The cold shoulders. The slow unraveling of something that had never been sewn with kindness in the first place.

He’d told you about it one night, half a bottle of whiskey deep, voice rough and eyes downcast. How he stayed too long. How he kept trying to fix things, even when the only thing breaking was himself.

She made him feel small. Over time, piece by piece. Until he forgot what it was like to be seen with softness.

He didn’t realize it at the time — how much damage that kind of love could do. How deeply it could root itself in the way he saw the world.

He still caught himself, sometimes. When you fought — which wasn’t often — he’d sometimes shoot too fast. A sharp word. A subtle jab. His shoulders would go rigid like he was bracing for a war that wasn’t coming.

And you’d told him. Calm, clear, unmoving.

I love you, but I won’t let you treat me like that. That’s not love. That’s defense. And if you want to be in this with me, then that pattern ends now.

He’d listened. He’d heard you.

And he was trying. You saw it every time he paused to rethink his words. Every time he caught himself and took a breath instead of a verbal swing. Every time he looked at you like he was scared — not of you, but of losing you — and chose to trust instead.

You knew he was trying to be the kind of man who didn’t carry the weight of his past into the room with him.

You knew that meant more than any trending photo or paparazzi buzz ever could.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said gently.

You blinked out of your thoughts to see Pedro beside you, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, expression warm and easy.

“Hey,” you replied, offering a small smile.

He gave you a look. That subtle, careful kind — the kind only good friends know how to give.

“Everything good?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “After… y’know. All the TMZ drama?”

You let out a breath. “Yeah. We talked. He’s good. We’re good.”

Pedro nodded once. “I figured. He seemed like the type to pull it together once he had the facts.”

You glanced at him. “He’s trying. It’s not always easy for him.”

Pedro gave a soft, understanding smile. “No, I get that. People don’t always realize how much shit someone’s carrying until it spills out all over the place.”

You nodded slowly. “He’s been through a lot. Stuff he doesn’t always talk about. And when he does, it’s… heavy.”

Pedro leaned against the edge of the cart beside you, casual but attentive. “He’s lucky to have you.”

You tilted your head. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he said, with a small grin. “Because you love him in a way that makes him want to be better. I see it in the way you talk about him — and in the way you look over your shoulder every time your phone buzzes.”

You laughed under your breath, cheeks warming.

Pedro bumped your shoulder lightly. “He’s not the only lucky one, though. You’ve got someone who’s trying to unlearn the shit that broke him. That’s not nothing.”

You swallowed. “Yeah. It’s not.”

He nodded once more, then added, “And hey — for what it’s worth, if he ever forgets what he’s got in you… I’m right here with a very long speech about how dumb he’d be to mess it up.”

You grinned. “Thanks, Pascal. I’ll keep you on standby.”

“Always,” he said with a wink.

You didn’t hear the knock so much as feel it — a jolt of electricity straight through your chest.

You crossed the hotel room in three seconds flat, yanking open the door like something in you had been waiting for this moment all week.

And there he was.

Jensen.

Ball cap, hoodie, boots. Tired eyes and soft smile. You didn’t even say hello — just grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and pulled him in.

He dropped his bag somewhere behind him as the door closed, his hands already finding your waist, your back, your face. His touch was everywhere at once — not desperate, just sure.

You kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in years. Like this was the only language you remembered.

He kissed you back just the same.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and slightly dizzy, Jensen rested his forehead against yours, voice low and rough.

“God, I missed you.”

You nodded, eyes still closed. “You feel like home.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “I feel like hell. That flight was brutal.”

“You still smell like your cologne,” you whispered, pressing your nose to his collar. “And a little like airplane.”

“You always this affectionate with guys who smell like recycled air?”

“Only the ones I love.”

He smiled into your hair, arms tightening around you. “That’s good. ‘Cause I was planning on staying.”

You tilted your head back to look at him. “For the night or for the week?”

He met your gaze. “As long as you’ll let me.”

The answer settled into your chest like sunlight.

You led him toward the bed, fingers laced with his, neither of you needing words to know what this meant. It wasn’t about sex. It was about presence. About closeness. About curling into each other like the answer to a question that’s lingered too long.

Later, after the clothes had been shed and the lights dimmed and the room had gone quiet except for the slow, even rhythm of breath, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“I hate being apart from you,” he murmured.

You turned slightly, meeting his eyes in the dark. “Me too.”

“I don’t care where you are, what time it is — I just want you close.”

“You’ve got me,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You always do.”

And when he kissed you again, it wasn’t just to prove a point. It was a promise.

The sun was starting to dip behind the soundstage, casting long shadows over the parking lot where the crew trucks sat humming, their sides splattered with dust and sunlight.

Pedro was leaning against one of them, sipping a bottle of water, still in costume — the desert wind teasing the edges of his scarf. He looked calm, unbothered. But his eyes tracked everything. They always did.

Jensen saw him before he said a word.

“Hey,” he called, jogging up the last few steps from the studio lot.

Pedro lifted his brows, amused. “Well look who actually exists in daylight.”

Jensen smirked. “Thought I’d swing by before you wrap up. Figured I owed you a face-to-face.”

Pedro nodded, uncapping his water again. “For what? You’re not about to punch me over a publicity still, are you?”

Jensen chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah. We got past all that. She and I talked. It’s good now.”

Pedro gave him a look — not skeptical, just curious. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

There was a beat. One of those heavy, unspoken pauses that says we’re about to get real, aren’t we?

Jensen crossed his arms and leaned against the truck beside Pedro, letting the silence settle before breaking it.

“I know you and she got close,” he said, not accusing — just honest. “I know how this kind of set brings people together. Long hours. Long scenes. Shared trailers and inside jokes.”

Pedro stayed quiet. Letting him talk.

“And I know,” Jensen continued, voice quieter now, “that you’ve never given me a reason not to trust you.”

Pedro tilted his head. “But?”

“No ‘but.’” Jensen looked at him. “Just wanted you to know I appreciate that. That line you never crossed? It means something.”

Pedro nodded once. “She made it easy. She never gave me a reason to question it either.”

“I know.”

Another quiet beat.

Then Pedro glanced over at him, tone lighter but sincere. “She’s good at making people feel like they matter. It’s… kinda her superpower.”

Jensen exhaled a small laugh. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Pedro took another sip, then added, “You’re good for her, too. I see it. She’s been lighter since you got here. Softer.”

“She softens me too,” Jensen admitted.

They stood like that for a moment — two men connected by proximity, friendship, and the same fierce care for one extraordinary woman.

Pedro gave a small smile. “No offense, but I’m glad it’s you.”

Jensen raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“I’ve seen her look at you,” Pedro said. “You’re her safe place. That’s rare. Don’t fuck it up.”

Jensen laughed, low and dry. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, man.”

Pedro shrugged with a grin. “Anytime.”

Jensen reached out, clapped his shoulder. “You ever need a beer and someone to complain to about LA traffic, I’m your guy.”

“Deal,” Pedro said, and the smile he gave was real.

They didn’t hug — neither of them were quite built for that level of mutual sentimentality — but something settled between them all the same. A kind of unspoken pact.

The woman they both cared about was safe. Loved. Understood.

And that was enough.

The car was warm and still.

Just highway lights flickering past, casting gold across the dash, the soft hum of tires on asphalt, and Jensen’s hand resting against your thigh — thumb brushing back and forth like it was muscle memory now.

You leaned your head against the window, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion, your body finally starting to unclench from the weeks of long shoots, late nights, and emotional tightropes. There wasn’t much left to say.

And you didn’t need there to be.

Jensen glanced over at you, his hat tipped back, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in that soft, private smile he only ever gave you when he thought no one else was looking.

“You falling asleep on me?”

“Mm. Just resting my eyes.”

He squeezed your thigh gently, his hand warm and grounding. “You’ve earned it.”

You smiled, tilting your head toward him. “So have you.”

He gave a low hum of agreement but kept his eyes on the road. “You good? Really?”

“I’m good,” you said, voice quiet. “Feels like everything’s settled. For now.”

Jensen nodded once. “I like ‘for now.’ ‘For now’ got me here with you.”

You reached over, letting your fingers thread with his. “You were always gonna end up here with me.”

He brought your joined hands to his lips, kissed the back of yours without breaking focus on the road.

Silence fell again — but the good kind. The kind filled with weightless comfort. With the sound of trust. Of belonging. Of us.

You watched him drive, your heart soft and slow in your chest.

His shoulders had relaxed since he got to set. His voice, less guarded. You could tell he’d let go of something. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was doubt. Maybe it was just that quiet ache of missing someone and finally getting to reach for them again.

Whatever it was, he was here now.

And so were you.

Home wasn’t a place. Not tonight. Home was this drive. His hand in yours. The hush between songs on the radio. The weight of his love, steady and sure, in the space between your heartbeats.

You turned your face toward the windshield, eyes slipping shut.

And you let him carry you the rest of the way home.

The sun was already too bright when you shuffled into the kitchen, hair a mess, wearing nothing but one of Jensen’s ancient shirts from a tour he couldn’t even remember doing. You found him exactly where you expected — leaned over the counter with a mug in one hand, and a suspiciously crumb-covered phone in the other.

“Is that my cinnamon muffin?” you asked, eyeing the demolished pastry on the plate beside him.

He didn’t look up. “Define yours.”

You blinked. “The one I wrote my name on. In Sharpie. With hearts.”

“Oh,” he said, finally glancing up. “That muffin.”

“Yeah, that muffin.”

Jensen took a very slow, very exaggerated bite. “Never saw it.”

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He grinned, unapologetic. “You love me. It’s different.”

You stalked over and plucked the last bite out of his hand, popping it into your mouth before he could protest. His jaw dropped in playful betrayal.

“Hey!”

You smirked. “Shared property. That’s how love works, right?”

“Not when it comes to pastries,” he muttered, but he was smiling again — that crooked grin that made your stomach flutter even now.

You moved in closer, sliding your arms around his waist, pressing your forehead to his chest. “We’re really home.”

His hands settled on your hips, warm and steady. “Yeah. Finally.”

You looked up at him. “Do I have to go back to work next week?”

He leaned down, nose brushing yours. “I can call in a fake scandal if you want. Something juicy. Keep you off the hook for a while.”

You laughed. “What, like you broke up with me because I ate your muffin?”

“Or I’m cheating with the craft services girl,” he said dramatically. “We bonded over croissants. It’s been very emotional.”

“Tragic,” you said, fake-pouting. “Guess I’ll have to make you jealous by flirting with Pedro again.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “That man could charm a potted plant. You wouldn’t even have to try.”

You grinned. “Might make you appreciate my Sharpie muffins more.”

He shook his head, pulling you closer. “You could eat all my muffins and I’d still pick you every time.”

“Even the blueberry ones?”

He leaned down and kissed you slow. “Especially the blueberry ones.”

You melted into it, laughter catching between your lips.

Home wasn’t always quiet. Sometimes it was teasing and crumbs and half-drunk coffee.

Sometimes it was just this — his arms, your laughter, and a life you’d built one stolen muffin at a time.

What do we want to read next?

I'm hoping to have Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 8 and A Well Kept Secret Part 3 (final) up by Sunday so what would we like to see once I've done that.

Next big work

he could put that out on me tbf

do i need to say more?

THEY COULD DO THAT TO ME ANY DAY AND I WOULD EVEN PAY THEM

i'm so in love with jensen ackles like omfg

i'm just putting this out there cause i need this man biblically

someone look at me like that before i go mad

eiffel tower with butcher and soldier boy is my current dream

i want to be left breathless and without the ability to speak, think or walk for approximately a week

"you need to stick to one fandom" fuck you

let me tell you about the crossover i dreamt of between House of The Dragon and Supernatural and how absolutely it could make sense if you let me write the script on 10 espresso martinis and coke

i love how both of these is jensen ackles

in one he looks like he is about to call me and my mother a cunt for simply existing and in the other he looks like he is about to turn into a golden retriever puppy and ask for cuddles

i need him to do unspeakable things to me and some more

I don’t know why but I would like some Tom Holland and J2 fics. They are my favorites please give recommendations!

Memories

Info: It's the last season for the supernatural cast, and there's one question on everyone's mind.

Relationship: Jensen Ackles x Platonic reader

This was it, the final season of Supernatural had been released, and the cast were beginning to feel the emotions. For the past 15 years Jared and Jensen had been the fan favourite, but when y/n joined the cast in season 3, she instantly became a favourite among the cast. Her character Maya was originally meant to be temporary, a quick and emotionless relationship for Dean, but that turned when the chemistry between them were highly wanted among fans. By season ten the on screen couple became married, after much pushing from Sam. For a while fans even shipped y/n and Jensen together, but that was quickly put to bed when Jensen got engaged to Daneel, with y/n standing on Daneel’s side as a bridesmaid.

Now, Jensen and y/n were close beyond words, people called them each other’s soul mate. Y/n was the goddaughter for all three of his children, and Jensen had given y/n away on her wedding day since she lost both her presents quite young. Jensen had been the one to comfort y/n when she lost both her parents, and y/n had been the one to help Jensen pick Daneels engagement ring. During filming Jensen would often buy y/n her morning coffee and y/n would have their breakfast ready. Both of them were important to each other, and fans hoped it wouldn’t change when they were finished filming together.

Now, sitting on the stage, y/n sat opposite Jensen, with him in the middle of her and Jared. It was their last convention of the year, and they were all excited yet dreading the last day together. They knew they would still see each other, Jensen and Jared lived reasonably close to each other, with y/n living only half hours’ drive away. Jensen looked over at y/n and winked at her, causing her to laugh while Jared was mid talking, the crowd screaming in delight at their antics.

“Are you okay over there?” Jared asked, looking around Jensen to see y/n. “I’m fine.” y/n spoke, smiling at him while looking at the crowd. “This is very important information I’m giving these guys and your just here laughing.” Jared tutted, and Jensen rolled his eyes. “Yea y/n, so not cool.” Jensen piped in, and y/n dropped her mouth as she turned to her. “You made me laugh. You guys seen it, he made me laugh.” Y/n spoke to the crowd and Jensen looked out at them. “They see nothing.” Jensen breathed out, only for the crowd to scream in agreeance with the woman, “Okay I don’t like any of you now.” Jensen spoke dramatically, pointing to around the room. “Not my fault I’m the fan favourite.” Y/n shrugged, causing both boys to gasp. “The ignorance.” Jared spoke, shaking his head. “You seem to forget that we’re the ones who made this show happen.” Jensen stated. “Yea.” Jared chimed in, nodding his head. “And you seem to forget that it was me the guys wanted to stay, ain’t that right.” Y/n spoke, turning to talk to the crowds as they cheered. “Alright, alright.” Jared spoke, calming the crowd down, “I umm, I’ve forgotten what was asked now.” “I think you answered it.” Jensen spoke, looking at the one who asked the question. “Yep.” The boy nodded. “Thank you.” Y/n smiled at him before waiting for the next question to be asked.

“On your last day of filming, did you guys take anything from set.” A young girl , no younger than 14 spoke into the phone. “Oh you could get us into trouble here.” Jensen joked, and y/n and Jared laughed as he scratched the back of his head. “No umm, I think Jensen and I both took a flannel from Dean and Sam, right?” Jared spoke, looking at Jensen for confirmation. “Yeah took a few flannels from wardrobe on last day, there was one that I think I must have had since season one which is kind of cool umm.” “God that has seen better days.” Y/n commented, causing Jensen to laugh. “Yea it has, very tattered at this stage.” Jensen laughed. “I also took a mug which was really random.” Jared laughed, causing y/n to laugh. “Was that the white one? Which spontaneously happened to be in every season.” Y/n spoke. “Yeah it is actually. I don’t think many people realize that but I used the same mug each time we filmed a scene.” Jared explained. “Which is very surprising going by our history.” Jensen spoke. “Very true.” Jared agreed, the two laughing at the memories. “Jensen and I have a very special object with that we each took the wedding bands that Maya and Dean wore after their supposed ‘marriage’.” Y/n explained, putting air quotes around the marriage. “Yea we did actually.” Jensen nodded, causing the fans to scream in happiness. “Yea I have Deans on my pointer finger, and you have Maya’s on your pinkie isn’t it.” Y/n explained, looking at Jensen. “Yeah y/n’s fingers are very small compared to mine, so, “ Jensen chuckled as he moved to show the ring, “ I was really surprised it even fit my pinkie to be honest. Have expected it to get stuck.” Jensen lifted his pinkie and y/n lifted her finger to show the rings, both on the right hand.

“I still remember when the fans shipped you two together.” Jared commented. “I know, that was a fun conversation with Daneel.” Y/n joked, causing Jensen to laugh at the memories. “Daneel jokingly squared up to y/n the first time she met her, which was hilarious as y/n was dressed as Maya at the time.” Jensen explained, causing the crowd to laugh. “No I love Daneel, she’s great. And David also loves you which was such a relief.” Y/n commented, smiling at the memories the two couples had. “Would you still be with David if he hadn’t of liked Jensen.” A fan called out, causing gasps to come from the crowd and y/n. “Wow, what a question.” Y/n spoke, “No, Jensen is very special to me, as is Jared, but if David hadn’t of liked Jensen then he’d of been dumped straight away.” “No questions asked?” Jensen asked. “No questions asked.” Y/n confirmed, causing Jensen to smile widely and throw an arm around her. “I do like David, David is very good to our family. Whenever myself and y/n were filming he’d help Daneel with the kids which we were always grateful for.” “He loves those kids.” Y/n smiled. “And the kids love him. We are quite fortunate that our kids are quite close with each other I mean Jared is uncle Jared and y/n is their godmother so, it’s incredibly special to me that David helps Daneel when I’m not around.” Jensen spoke, causing y/n to smile. “And Arrow loves him.” Y/n commented. “Yeah Arrow is convinced she’s going to marry David so, not sure how to feel about that but.” Jensen stated, pursing his lips as he shook his head in mock disappointment. “How you feel, she told me that she was taking my man from me whether I liked it or not, it’s happening.” Y/n exclaimed, causing the crowd to aww at the story. “They’ve already had the wedding by the way.” Jared stated. “Oh yeah, everyone was invited.” Jensen confirmed, causing the crowd to laugh again. “Y/n gave David away and the look on her face was priceless.” Jared laughed. “Not every day you get told your giving your husband away.” Y/n spoke, remembering her pretending to be bitter. “She cried when he left that night. Didn’t understand why he was leaving now that they were married.” Jensen spoke. “Aww really.” Y/n awed. “Yeah took awhile to explain that he had a home and that y/n was his actual wife.” Jensen spoke, causing the crowd to aw. “Yea so, to answer your question they’re were many things taken from set.” Y/n announced, looking at the girl who asked the question. “Memories included.”

The crowd awed at that while Jared fake cried. Jensen looked at y/n with misty eyes before jumping up and tackling her in a hug. Y/n screamed as she nearly fell from the stool, and Jared only laughed before joining the two. The crowd went wild, taking photos of the moment in time.

Mum I love you

Info:  y/n has been part of the supernatural cast from the beginning as the youngest Winchester. She recently lost her mum from cancer and it’s her first convention since the loss, leading to questions being asked.

Relationship: Supernatural cast x platonic reader

Warnings: Mention of loss of parent, cancer, grief

Y/n lay on her hotel bed, staring at the wall in front of her as she lay on her side. Thoughts of her mum were evident in her mind, the last moments she had with her and the duration of her life with her. y/m/n had just lost her battle with cancer, and at the young age of 21 y/n was completely lost without her. She still remembered getting the call from her father, telling her to come to the hospice because her mother was asking for her. She remembered her dad meeting her at the entrance, him pulling her into a hug and kissing her head, before she walked into her mums room, crouching down to hug her tightly as she whispered her sorries and I love yous.

The funeral had a big turn out, y/m/n was the type that everyone loved for. Among those that turned up for y/n, were Jared and Jensen, along with cast and crew of Supernatural. They had been on a break from filming, and y/n had been at home when she was told her mother unfortunately wasn’t going to win her battle. Jensen remembers y/n calling him in the middle of the night, crying after receiving the news. Their time zone was different, and y/ didn’t think about what time it was, wanting to rant to someone. He was straight on the first flight when she told him her mother had passed, calling Jared on the way, and arrived on her doorstep, confusing her father. It was no secret that y/n had a close relationship with her co-stars, but Jensen and y/n were like the father daughter duo on set. So when the duo turned up, y/f/n just showed them to her room and left them alone. Y/n had been distraught, starring at the wall, wrapped in her mother’s dressing gown that she wore all the time. She refused to acknowledge the two lads at the start, but once she felt Jensen’s hand on her back, she broke down, and she screamed as she clung to him, Jared holding her hand over his shoulder.

---

The hall where the convention was taking place was packed. Crowds of supernatural fans had came, wanting to catch a glimpse of the three Winchesters. Dean, Sam & Isla were fan favorites, and the relationship between the three actors were something people loved to see. When they heard that y/n was returning to conventions after a long personal break, fans went wild, and y/n could feel the energy from back stage. She pulled her top over her hands as she flapped them about, before gasping in shock when arms wrapped around her from behind.

“Please welcome the Winchester clan, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalaecki and the lovely, y/n l/n.” Was heard over the speaker before y/n moved away from Jensen as they walked up the steps.

“I’m with you if you need me.” Jensen’s voice came over her shoulder before kissing her cheek.

“Yea.” Y/n spoke softly, leaning back on him, smiling at Jared as he came to them, doing their handshake.

Y/n giggled a little as Jared jokingly slipped on the last step before waving to the crowd while Jensen messed with Jared in picking him up and making sure he’s ok. Y/n rolled her eyes at their antics before sitting on the middle seat, waiting for the guys to sit down before shaking her head. She tried to keep a smile on her face as the Q&A begun.

Y/n smiled out to the crowd as the crowd settled down from the comedic start, waving at some of the phones that were evidently recording. Jensen couldn’t help but watch y/n for a moment with a slight smile before turning his attention back to the fans as the questions begun. Y/n was relieved that most questions were upbeat.

“Are you alright Jared?” Y/n asked, placing a hand on Jared’s arm in comfort.

“I don’t know, that was a big fall.” Jared stated, pouting a bit.

“Well with your height I’m not surprised.” Y/n teased him, and he gasped in mock hurt as laughs were heard.

“Why I never.” Jared stated.

“She’s back.” Jensen smiled to the crowd, holding a hand to y/n as Jared moved away from y/n.

“My question is for Jensen and Jared.” A woman around the lads age spoke out.

“That’s exclusion.” Y/n piped out, pointing at the woman who looked down.

“Now y/n, let’s not be rude and let the nice lady ask her question.” Jensen scolded y/n jokingly, causing y/n to hang her head in shame.

“I have grown to feel like I have watched y/n grow up on screen, and I find it emotional watching her character evolve from the little scared girl to the young independent woman, and I was wondering how does it feel to watch y/n grow from the little 7 year old girl to this young 21 year old woman we see in front of us today.” The woman spoke, and y/n blushed as she looked down.

“Well I for one am personally incredibly honored to have had the chance to be around y/n since she was so young, you know. It’s not something that typically happens in our line of work, you know, working for 13, 14 years together. You generally don’t get that opportunity a lot of the time.” Jensen spoke, using his hands to express himself.

“Most of the time children don’t last very long on a show, they just don’t have the attention span. So when I first seen that there was going to be a little girl or boy, we didn’t know at the time whether or not Dean and Sam were going to have a little brother or sister, I was a little taken aback. Because the hours we do are so demanding and obviously you can’t have a child on set for 13 14 hours a day, you know, it’s not realistic. But y/n, you know, the moment we done auditions with her, we automatically knew that she was a good match for us.” Jared explained, smiling at the memory of their first meeting.

“Y/n was this shy little girl when she came in and as soon as Bobby called action she just turned like that “ Jensen clicked his fingers together, “She was amazing, and I mean you guys seen on the show how great she was.” Jensen bragged, causing cheers to abrupt from the crowds.

“Alright alright.” y/n spoke, using her hands to tell them to pip down.

“No but honestly, this woman. She really is something else. I mean watching her grow up, I have enjoyed it. I still remember her clinging to me on set every day for the first few months of filming. She would refuse to leave my side if she could.” Jensen smiled softly, placing a hand on y/n’s shoulder.

“Yea she took to you really quickly, which kinda hurt I won’t lie.” Jared joked at the end, making y/n smile sadly at him. “Nah, but she has truly become family, and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do for this kid.” Jared spoke proudly, taking y/n’s hand in his to give it a squeeze.

“I still remember when she was young she came to these conventions and mostly stayed behind, but every now and then she would run on stage, if the guys were playing she would dance with the beat until myself or Jared would take her. She would just sit there with her goofy little smile, poking us with her little fingers until we would jokingly bite them.” Jensen spoke with a laugh, causing y/n to giggle slightly.

“Now she hurts with her words so I guess some things never change.” Jared joked causing y/n’s jaw to drop in mock shock.

“She has grown so much more confident in herself which I love to see. I’m like a proud father I have to say.” Jensen spoke with a smile, causing the crowd to awe as y/n leaned her head on Jensen's shoulder.

“Thank you for your question.” Jared smiled at the woman before they moved onto a younger girl.

Moving to the corner of the stage, y/n kneeled down as she watched the girl rush towards her. Tears built in y/n’s eyes as he wrapped her arms around the girl who was close in age to her, breathing out heavily as she controlled her emotions before speaking.

“Hey guys, my name’s Amelia.” The girl spoke softly.

“Hi Amelia.” Y/n smiled at the girl who was close to y/n’s age.

“Who’s your question for Amelia?” Jared asked.

“ My questions for y/n.” She spoke hesitantly.

“Yes.” Y/n celebrated, smiling widely at the girl.

“I don’t want to thread on your emotions and I know this is a little personally, but as we all know you just lost your mum to cancer.” The girl spoke timidly, and y/n’s breath hitched a little as she nodded, “ And well, I recently just got told that my mum hasn’t got that long left so I was just wondering, how do you deal with that news?”

Jensen and Jared looked at y/n with sad smiles, not knowing how she would react or what to say.

“Can you come closer, because firstly I want to give you a hug.” Y/n spoke with a cough, and she dropped the mike on the chair as she got up.

Y/n smiled a watery smile as she felt the tears begin to fall. Quickly wiping them she stood back up from her position and headed back to where Jensen and Jared were watching the scene with sad smiles. Jared placed a hand on her back as she grabbed her mike and sat back down before Jensen took her hand, squeezing it.

“You make your mum proud, I can tell how much she means to you. My mum meant a lot to me too,, still does. But you have to brave for her which isn’t easy. Watching her go from the strong woman you know to someone who relies on you for everything isn’t easy. I’ve been there, it’s not nice. But you can’ show her how you feel. If she sees you smile, she’ll be happy. And that’s all that matters.” YY/n whispered to her, not breaking the hug.

“I’m scared of life without her.” The girl sobbed.

“I know you are, I was too. I still am, just remember the good times. And remember, there are people around you who are there for you. I’m here for you. Never forget that.” Y/n whispered before kissing the girls cheek and moving apart from her.

“Thank you.” The girl stated softly, wiping her cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter who you are or what age you are, grief is always tough. It comes in waves. But it hits different when you’ve been told your going to lose someone close to you, and you have to grieve them while they’re right in front of you. You grieve the times you had before and the times you’ll never have. But what never changes, is the love you have for them.” Y/n spoke with shaky breathes, and the crowd smiled weakly at her. “I love you mum.” Y/n spoke softly into the mike, and Jensen pulled her into a hug as the tears began to fall.