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soaringeag1e · 6 months

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Escape {69}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Secrets

Words: 1,945

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

9 Months Later

A couple of quiet knocks gets Dean to look up from the picture frame in his hand and he smiles at the man in the doorway. Feeling even more at home with the familiar face.

“You settling in, okay?” Dean slowly begins to nod as he looks around the room. “Feel like you never left?” It’s then that Dean’s eyes look through the window to Bobby’s right, his smile fading a little.

“Kind of.”

“Yeah.” The elder breathes before taking a few more steps into the office.

“I’m surprised you never gave my office up.” he admits, setting the picture he was holding down on his desk.

“Well,” Bobby shrugs. “There was a part of me that knew you would be back.”

“What about the part that didn't know?” His father figure remains silent for a moment, seeming to think about the answer though Dean is sure he knows exactly what he was feeling.

“I thought that maybe you needed the out and that you might go and find something else that made you happy.” Hearing that warms Dean’s heart.

“What if I did?” he asks, just curious on what would happen if the last option actually happened.

“Well, then I would give your office up. Eventually.” They both share a light laugh. “That or turn it into a storage room.” Dean grins at his boss before setting another picture on his desk and then reaching back into the box to grab the next frame that needed a home in his office. "Well, you know where to find me if you need something." Bobby informs him as he slowly backs out of the room. "And uh…" he pauses, getting Dean to look at him. "Let's try not to get shot on our first day back, huh?" Despite the darkness of the past year, Dean’s able to chuckle at the joke. Grateful, Bobby grins and then leaves Dean to finish getting settled.

His smile grows a bit as he looks down at the picture in his hand, his thumb gently brushing over the woman in the white dress as he lets that good memory play in his head. Not long after, he sets the frame down, right where he knows he'll always be able to see it.

Continuing to empty his box, he gets everything set up the way he likes and then he takes a seat in his chair, the familiar comfort almost feeling new for how long he's been gone. As he looks across the office and his eyes land on his former partner's desk on the other side of the glass, Dean has to take a minute. He knew coming back wouldn't be easy but he also knew that Eddie wouldn't want him to give up his career because of what happened. Dean was good at what he did and he knew this is where he belonged despite losing an amazing partner and friend.

Deans eyes gently close and he inhales deeply through his nose. His attempt to push away his emotions isn't the greatest but it's enough for him to carry on with his day.

As his computer wakes up after its long slumber, Dean's surprised to see that everything was the same as he left it. Files were sitting in the same spot on his desktop, his background picture was still that of a Zeppelin concert he attended years before he got his badge. Bobby really left his space untouched.

Clicking on a few links, Dean waits patiently while some documents get uploaded on his computer. It's then that he catches his phone lighting up out of the corner of his eye, the notification getting him to grab the device and investigate more.

Movement was detected at his front door, the new doorbell camera working to its full potential. Though, after finding out that Cassidy tampered with the previous camera, it isn't that it didn't work, it's just that he had skills that Dean never knew about. It turned out that the day you had heard someone knocking on the door was in fact Cassidy testing out his plan and clearly it worked way too well.

As the little camera shows his front porch, Dean grins. His brother Sam stood there in a loose shirt and his infamous jogging pants. A few seconds later you had come into view wearing your jogging pants and a hot pink workout top, locking the door before looking into the camera and blowing a kiss.

"Love you."

His smile growing, Dean lightly presses the speaker button on his phone. "Love you too." You smile brightly knowing he has an eye on you and then the two of you turn to step off the porch. Sam takes a second to look into the camera himself, waving to his brother before he takes off jogging to catch up with you.

Knowing that you're safe with Sam, Dean is able to relax a bit more before he dives into his first day back at work.

The two of you would usually spend an average of thirty minutes on your morning jogs. It didn't happen everyday considering the fact that Sam had to work most mornings, but when you both had some free time, it was definitely on the to do list. Another must have was a pit stop on the way back home. A nice little coffee shop run by a sweet older couple that have lived in town since they were kids. You and Sam felt like family going in there every time you were able to go out and you loved it.

“Oh! And can you make that decaf, please?” Sam looks at you a little confused, though you don’t notice as you’re paying for the two drinks. But as the barista nods and then steps away to start your drinks, Sam clears his throat, watching you put your card away.

“Decaf?” As if you didn’t hear him, you then pulled your phone out checking to see if you’ve heard from Dean at all, but everything seemed quiet. “When do you get decaf?” After slipping your phone into the pocket on the side of your pants, you look up at your friend, shrugging softly.

“Since I don’t need the extra kick.” your smile widens a bit before you step around him, waiting at the far counter for your order to be done. But Sam? He’s stuck in his spot for a few more beats, his mind fast tracking through his years of knowing you before he spins on his heel and moves to the end of the counter with you.

“Hold on,” Placing his palm on the counter, he looks at you with doubt in his eyes. “I’ve seen you wired off your ass before and you’d still take some extra shots over decaf.” A soft sigh falls from your lips and you look away, watching the barista make your drink. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Sam.” You say with an annoyance already in your tone.

“Y/N…”

“Shit, Sam, I’m fine!” The little outburst has him pull back a bit, looking at you with concern and slight disbelief and that clearly deflates you. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m a little tired and I think when I get back home I’m going to take a nap, so I just don’t want any caffeine right now. It’s not a big deal.” It’s then that Sam’s drink is set up on the counter and he reaches for it, but none of that takes away the concern he has.

“You feeling alright though?”

“Yeah.” you answer in a whisper before reaching for your drink and thanking the team behind the counter.

“Hey,” Lightly grabbing your elbow, Sam’s face is soft, his expression even softer, almost heartbreakingly so. “You can tell me anything. You remember that, right?”

“Of course I do.” your voice is as gentle as his touch. Despite that response and the fact that you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, something didn’t feel quite right. But he didn’t want to push you anymore than he already did. “Is it okay if we start heading back?”

“Sure.” Though still concerned, Sam nods and gives you a soft smile. One that disappears as you start to head for the door.

Unfortunately for you it wasn’t only Sam that could see something was going on with you. Over the next few days Dean had picked up on the slight differences in your behaviors as well. You expressed to him and Sam both that you were just tired. Maybe you were coming down with something or maybe you had some kind of bug that just knocked the energy out of you. Either way, Dean took care of you as such. He tried to let you rest as much as possible, even brought you food in bed to keep you from exerting yourself too much. He begged you to go see a doctor multiple times and it wasn’t until just the night before last that you had told him that you in fact went to see someone. The only thing he didn’t know now was the fact that you knew what was wrong with you. You just weren’t sure how to tell him.

So as the sun slowly rose, the bright orange beams coming through the blinds in the bedroom, Dean's fingers worked the buttons on his dress shirt. His eyes kept lifting to the mirror, catching sight of you sleeping peacefully under the covers behind him. He used to close the bathroom door while he got ready for work in the morning, but you usually couldn’t be disturbed, and if you were, he loved the sight of your sleepy self sitting up and smiling at him from the bed. Though that was always dangerous in itself because he would just want to call in on those days and climb back in bed with you.

Once his buttons were done and he fixed his collar, he doused himself with a little cologne and then turned to leave the room. Slipping his dress jacket off the hanger, he slowly makes his way towards the bed, smiling softly as your face comes into view.

“I love your cologne.” your voice barely makes it out of the blankets, but it’s enough for him to hear.

“I didn’t think I put that much on.” A low moan escapes as you stretch under the covers. “Is it too much?” You disagree with a light shake of your head and a low grumble.

“It’s perfect.” you smile up at him as he sits at the edge of the bed and leans over you. A deep gravelly hum rolls up his chest just as his lips meet yours.

“How are you feeling?” he asks in between kisses and you answer in the same way.

“A little better.”

“Yeah?” Kissing you once more, this one lasts a little longer before he pulls away and just looks into your eyes. “Have you heard back from the doctor yet?”

“Not yet.” you lie as best you can, feeling guilty for not telling him the truth, but you aren’t ready to tell him. You can see how much it’s bothering him, especially after that last answer. He’s clearly concerned and of course looks worried which makes you feel worse.

“Maybe you should call them? Check in with ‘em.”

“I can try.” you lie again, hoping it’ll make him feel a little better. You can tell he’s pleased with your answer but that fear won't go away until you tell him what’s going on. The unknown is always a scary place, but sometimes the known can be just as scary.

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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 years

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Dance with me, Darlin’

Description; Beau Arlen x Reader - After a long case, Beau gets you to open up to him about what’s really been going on.

Warning: Criminal Minds level Violence, mentions of death etc.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When you had first made it to Big Sky, it had been...a journey. Going from working as just a street cop in Ohio to heading back home to Virginia to work as a Homicide detective for a while, to then heading to work with the FBI in their Behavioural Analysis Unit for a while to just six months ago getting a call saying they had a more...calming job for you in Montana. Big Sky, to be more precise.

But that was just the bigger journey of life. The car ride into Big Sky was also kinda hectic.

You had hit multiple pieces of traffic along the way. You had dealt with at least two empty tanks - mostly because of the traffic. And then your car had finally broke down outside of a Private Investigator’s office.

God, that felt like a life time ago.

You, with annoyance clear in your aura, got out of the car. The door slammed a little too hard than you had wished it to behind you, but you couldn’t concentrate on that right now.

At least your home that you were renting wasn’t that far. Maybe a 10 mintue walk?

“Screw you.”

“Is everything okay?”

You turned around to see a dark haired woman and a blonde one stood side by side, clearly just having come from the building in front of you.

“Yeah.” The words came out as both relief and annoyance. “Just this stupid thing. I’ve got extra fuel in the back.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You looked back to her from the trunk of your car.

“I’m Cassie, by the way. This is Jenny.” You shook their hands.

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

The cloud of annoyance had now grown sparse, slowly developing into plain tiredness as you flipped the cap off the fuel tank.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “like I said; this stupid thing. Traffic all the way coming up here...it’s a freaking nightmare.”

“Where are you travelling from?” Jenny asked.

“Uh...Virginia.” you answered. But it wouldn’t have really mattered what you had said since she was round the front of your car checking out your plates.

To be honest, you couldn’t blame her. Some wild stranger breaks down in front of your building? You’d be curious and cautious, too.

“I’m...uh...I’m meant to be starting a new job in-” you checked your watch. Oh, crap. “In a couple of hours.”

“Where are you starting?”

“Police department.” you answered, chucking the closed and empty fuel container back into the trunk and closing the top.

“Oh, I’m deputy Sheriff.” Jenny answered.

“Jenny...Hoyt.” you then looked up to the building sign. Dewell and Hoyt. “God, I-I should have made the connection. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” she smiled. “It’s been a long drive.”

“About four days.” you added. “I don’t fly. I know it’s easier but...I don’t like it.”

“You’re scared of flying?”

“Maybe a little.”

Even the conversation about planes made you on edge.

“Well, you’re lucky. Most things you’ll need are within driving distance.”

You smiled. “Great.”

“I’m just about to head to the station. You can follow me up. They’re doing something on the main road so you’ll have to take the back ones.”

“Okay.” you answered. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Cassie smiled. “I’m sure we’ll see one another again, soon.”

“Probably.” you agreed.

You’d heard a couple of stories about Jenny and Cassie in the last couple of months before you made the transfer. All good. Mostly badass.

“You’ll get to meet our Sheriff but I have to warn you, he’s a chatty one.”

You smiled. “Kinda gathered.” You had been on the phone twice in total with Sheriff Beau Arlen. Both were pleasent experiences. He seemed liked a good man, and a good Sheriff. You explained all of this to Jenny and Cassie.

By the time you had made it to the Police Department you had already fallen in love with Deputy Poppernak. He was a nice change from the seriously-stern-oak-tree-shoved-up-their-asses cops you’d dealt with in your time. Most of them believed they were Agents at the FBI and had the same power as judges in court.

And it was nice to have a Sheriff who clearly understood his job but still managed to find the light in certain situations.

Working with the BAU and as a cop had shown you how terrible some of them could be at their jobs. How they didn’t actually want the job or how they only took it so they could seem powerful compared to everyone else.

It wasn’t long before you began to feel like you fitted in, in Big Sky.

Whenever you had time, you’d go and hang out with Jenny and Cassie at the Boot Heel - Beau joining 80% of the time. Or you were with Denise in Dewell and Hoyt. She’d tell you all the gossip that was going on in town over a lasanga or tacos. And then, if you weren’t at home on your own, you’d be with Popp in the Police Department. He’d tell you all about his family and fishing whenever you both had to go through boring paperwork.

But that wasn’t to say you’d all had your fair share of dangerous situation.

There had been a couple of cases from three homicides to kidnappings. Your expertise in Behavioural Analysis came in handy on most cases. It gave the department an opportunity to see the crime from another point of view. One they hadn’t fully had before.

But, in recent weeks one case had been getting to you. And that was something they all could see.

From the moment the case came in, your blood had frozen over. It felt all too similar. All too familiar. And when Beau had to pull an old file - a file you had seen too many times to count - that was when the shift fully set in.

Three girls dead. Three more taken in the space of a few weeks. And one of those three died in a ‘fire’ the night before.

For weeks, you worked day and night with the rest of the team. At first, you did everything in your power to avoid the topic. To avoid the case. But you couldn’t.

And that had all come to a head just a few hours ago.

Finally! Freaking finally! He’d been outsmarted. Cornered.

But you were the only one there.

And you froze.

All those years. All those nightmares. They all came down to this man. This sick, twisted, vile man.

His voice just echoed in your ears, over and over as he moved around the empty room, going unnoticed. You didn’t know what to do, where to point your gun? As much as you had him trapped, he had you in just the same position.

“Do they know?” he’d asked you. “Do they know that you think of me?”

Your blood was rushing faster, and faster, and faster. Until finally...Jenny rushed inside. He came out of hiding. And you shot. But not before he shot first.

He couldn’t fully see where to point, but he got you anyway. Just a graze. But he still got you.

Jenny had stopped dead in her tracks looking between the body on the floor and you. She could see the look in your eyes. The same look she’d seen every time they discussed the case. Only, now it was more clear.

It was a look of fear, panic and anger.

“It’s over.” was all you said as she slowly took your gun from your hands which still had it pointing up - but you were slowly lowering it. And, eventually, you managed to make eye contact with her when she placed a hand on your shoulder, too. “It’s finally over.”

Jenny nodded. “It is.” before she looked to the door and saw Beau. He’d checked the man’s pulse. Gone. Forever.

“Hoyt!” Popp called from behind them.

“Is okay,” Beau reassured Jenny as he placed a hand on your other shoulder and arm. “I’ve got her.”

Jenny nodded before rushing to find Poppernak.

“Come on, let’s find a medic.”

You hadn’t spoke a word after that.

Beau led you outside to a medic, standing to the side a little so he could watch them patch you up. You’d live. It might hurt for a few days, but you’d be okay.

And now, you sat in a booth at the Boot Heel.

You would have probably been sat either in Dewell and Hoyt or at home, alone. But Beau had dragged you out to go with him, Jenny and Cassie to the bar. Clearly, this case was more than just a case. And he needed to know why.

“Hey,” Beau knocked your leg with his foot gently under the table. You were sat with one leg and arm up on the back of the booth, your back leaning against the wall as you watched the others in the bar dance to the band. “Talk to me.”

You pulled yourself from your thoughts and looked at him, taking hold of the cold beer beside you.

“What?”

“This case.” Beau stated. “Clearly it meant something to you. I tried to check your records with it and it’s all blacked out. And I want answers. I need answers.”

You sighed. You were going to have to tell them at some point. You had hoped you’d never have to speak of it again. You had a pscheval that cleared you. You had medical exams that cleared you. You were capable of working the case. You had worked the case. But that didn’t stop the reality of something this big hitting you.

“It’s just me and you, Darlin’.”

That was true.

Cassie and Jenny were at the bar being chatted up by two guys.

Beau let you take a moment. You shifted your bullet-grazed arm from the back of the booth chair and place your other leg on the ground before finding the courage - all while scratching the label from your beer bottle - to look at him.

You took a deep breath and slowly began to explain.

“It was back when I worked Homicide.”

“Okay,”

“I was going from case to case. Most offenders left so much DNA behind we caught them soon enough. But then this once case came in. A young girl. 15. Missing. I didn’t worked missing person’s cases but it had made it’s way through to me. She’d been missing for a month an she matched a Jane Doe I had come across about a week earlier. No DNA. No evidence. No nothing. Until one of my deputies came through with a patern. It was our guy. Countless of women across the city. In my part of town, it had only been two women but across Virginia? Maybe 15? Anyway, the case went cold but I kept it open. But then I got the call to join the BAU. I took it but the case stayed with me and then one day...another girl came through. And another. And another. He was esculating. And we thought we had caught the guy - turns out it wasn’t him.”

“How’d you know?”

“I got a package in the mail the next morning.” you answered. It was like it was just yesterday. “A photo, a note and a piece of burnt flesh. Hers. He’d got another girl. We found her two days later. For months we worked on the case and each time we came close but he knew.” You gave a small laugh, an angle of your head and a scratch of the label again. “He always knew. Always just one step ahead of us.”

You paused for a short moment, trying to put your emotions on hold for the next few moments. But Beau just waited.

“Anyway,” you could feel your nerves starting to get to you now. “The case had gone cold. Again. Until I got home after a case in Florida. Everything was normal. I thought I was safe.”

This wasn’t good.

“Until I was stood in my kitchen and was taken from behind. We faught. I managed to grab a kitchen knife and stab him but he found my gun hidden under my kitchen island while I was away. Shot be twice before using my blood to write on the floor beside me. You’ll never catch me. I’ll always be with you. That’s what he wrote. I was in the hospital for a few weeks. But when I went back...it wasn’t the same. One of my teammates, Emily...she’d gone back to my house to try and scrub away the blood but it was like I could still see it. Like I could still see my blood around me and on me. Then, after a few months, I got the call from the Director about a slightly calmer job. They knew I wouldn’t stop working so maybe a calmer situation was best.” You looked back to Beau, a small smile on your face. “And then you called. And I took the job and...now we’re here.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You looked down for a moment and closed your eyes, shaking your head. “Don’t be. I had - well, the Director and I had one of the tech analyisists black out my file. Garcia - even she couldn’t get into it. The team knew most of what had happened to be but some things I wanted to keep to myself.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this earlier?”

“I didn’t want to go back.” you answered honestly. “I have enough flashbacks as it is. And my team back in Quantico...they all knew and I could see that look in their eyes. That look that was watching my every move, just waiting for me to explode or crumble. I love them, but I couldn’t take it. And I can’t take it from any of you, either.”

“Well...” Beau made sure you were looking at him. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

You nodded with a weak smile on you face. “I know.”

A few minutes of silence passed between you two. Cassie and Jenny were still busy at the bar and the band was still playing. You were watching people dance on the wooden floors and, as Beau turned back to look at you, he got an idea.

Shifting from his side of the booth, he finished his ceer and held his hand out.

“Come on.”

You looked to him with a small laugh. “What?”

“We’re dancing.” he told you. “Come on.”

“Beau...”

He held out his hand, that look in his eye. He wasn’t letting an opportunity like this pass.

“Dance with me, Darlin’.”

You looked to the crowd with a small scoff - was he really asking you to dance?

“But I don’t know how.”

He gave a small shrug and pout. “We’ll learn together.”

It took a moment, but you agreed and he took your hand, pulling you up and towards the dance floor.

“Like this?” You placed your hand in his and your other on his arm.

Beau nodded, then placing his hand on your waist to pull you a little closer and you both, slightly awkwardly but still comfortable, danced.

He spun you out before pulling you back in and before you knew it, the awkwardness was gone and replaced with smiling faces and laughter.

Meanwhile, back at the bar Jenny handed Cassie a 10 dollar note.

“What-?”

“Look.”

On the dance floor, yourself and Beau were now in a slightly slower dance. Close. Intimate. Or close to it, anyway. Either way, Jenny knew she’d lost.

Cassie smiled widely. “Ah-ha. I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, gloat all you like.” Jenny took a sip of her beer.

“Before you know it, they’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde but on the good side of the law.”

Jenny pointed to Cassie as she swallowed her beer. “I am not betting you on that.”

“Ten bucks it’s in the next two years.”

Jenny grumbled. “Fine. But this time I am having Denise take note because I’m still sure I won the bet about those two becoming friends.”

“Hell no, I won that one.”

“Whatever you say.” Jenny answered before they both looked back to Beau and yourself.

“They look happy, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Jenny smiled. “They do.”

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wayward-dreamer · 2 years

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Reluctant Renegade - Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!Dean x Female!Detective!Reader

Summary: After the night that saw his transformation into a vampire, resulting in the death of his wife, Dean spends his lifetime seeking revenge on the one that turned him. Reluctantly living outside the law because of what he is, he finds his niche as a bounty hunter, hired by families looking for someone, anyone to avenge the deaths of their loved ones. He doesn’t play by the rules, finding justice for the victims by any means necessary.

But as dead bodies rack up and catch the attention of a young, naive but by-the-book detective, she won’t stop until she finds out who's responsible for them. Dean knows he has to convince her of his innocence, but can he do that while maintaining his secret? And when the alpha that sired him finds him first, can he keep Y/N safe?

Based on the song Blood Like Lemonade by Morcheeba.

Warnings: Angst, violence, blood, pinches of fluff.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

This series is complete!

#Reluctant Renegade #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Series #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Female!Reader Insert #Vampire!Dean #Detective!Reader #Dean Winchester Angst #Dean Winchester Series #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Supernatural Fanfiction

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integra1127grimmreaper · 2 years

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Partner In Crime, Partner In Life, Partners Forever - P.I.C final (John Winchester)

Series Masterlist

Part 3

Warning: swearing, slight angst, gun violence

Note: Y/N - your name

Y/L/N - your last name

Y/N/N- your nickname

Summary: The Fourth and final part of Partners In Crime. The relationship between John and the Reader continues to sour as surprises pile up on top of each other, along with possible tragedy

Note: This is long ass chapter as finally conclude the story of Detective John Winchester and Detective Reader

Dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Week Six

Today marked exactly six weeks since you were at the doctor’s after you had gotten the call of having missed your scheduled birth control appointment. Which meant today was the day you had been advised by your doctor to finally take a pregnancy test.

You made the decision to take the test on a day that you knew Dean wouldn’t be home, so you chose; Thursday, which was Pub night, which meant you’d have the apartment to yourself until the next day.

Your paranoia getting the better of you; you make sure to lock both the bedroom and bathroom door while you took the test.

You were sitting on the closed toilet seat; lost in your thoughts, when the phone alarm went off. Taking a deep breath, you got up and reach for the test lying on the counter. “Oh, my FUCK!” you loudly cursed out at the positive pregnancy test in your hands.

“Maybe it’s a mistake” you shake your head at it, “doc spoke about false negatives, maybe this is a false positive.” Grabbing another test, you do your business again, “yeah, that’s it” you try to reassure yourself, “this one will definitely be negative.”

An hour later; you found yourself sitting on the bathroom fall, hands clutched deep in your hair as you silently stared at the three positive pregnancy tests staring back you.

This better not be happening. You thought to yourself, especially not now with how the situation between John and you were. Exhaling heavily, you got up from the floor, tossing the tests into one of the draws. Washing your hands, you then exit the bathroom and drag your butt off to bed.

When morning came, out of desperation; you decided to take the last two pregnancy tests. Definitely can’t be happening. You blankly stare at the positive tests. Grabbing all the tests, you throw them into the paper bag they were originally in and head for the kitchen trashcan to get rid of them.

You had just gotten off the phone with the doctor’s office, when Dean entered the kitchen. “Morning…” Dean yawned out, grabbing himself some coffee.

“Oh, hey…” you greet, heading to the refrigerator to grab ingredients to start on breakfast.

“You ok?” Dean looks at you with concern.

“Huh?” you look at him confused, shaking you head to snap out of your daze, you faintly smile at him, “I’m ok… just have a lot on my mind.”

“Does it have to anything to do with Dad?” Dean asks.

“What?” you ask, a bit surprised at his question. Heading to the kettle as a distraction, you start it up to make some herbal tea for yourself. “Why would you ask that?”

“Ran into Jones yesterday, he told me about the huge blowout between you and Dad just before the reassignment” Dean explains.

“Oh” you turn around to face him, “your Dad snapped at me over something stupid, can’t even remember what exactly.”

“Is that why you bailed out of the resent Pub nights? And why you guys got assigned new partners?” Dean frowned, seeming genuinely disturbed by what had he learnt.

“I thought it would be best to stay out of his way for the time being” you answer with a shrug, “we’ve been partners for the past five years now… maybe it was time for a change.”

“I’ll have a talk with him” Dean states, disappointed with his father’s behaviour, “you’re family… he shouldn’t be acting like an asshole towards you.”

“It’s fine Dean” you try to get him to drop the subject, “I don’t want you getting into a fight with your father over me.”

“But-” cutting Dean off, you respond with a stern look. “Drop it, Dean. Just let it be.”

“Fine…” Dean grumbles, “but if he does or says something in front of me that I don’t agree with; I’m putting him in his place.”

“Ok” you smile at his overprotectiveness of you.

Dean then tilts his head at you, “you sure you’re ok?”

“Yup” you answer, “why do you ask?”

“Because you’re drinking herbal tea first thing in the morning, as opposed to your regular morning coffee…” Dean points to the mug in your hand.

“Oh…” you blink at him dumbly for a second, letting out a chuckle, you respond “still detoxing…”

“Oh” Dean chuckles as well, “almost forgot about that.”

“No sweat” you smile at him.

Following Week, Monday

“The doctor will see you now, Ms. Y/L/N” the receptionist at the front desk informs you.

“Thank you…” you smile at her and head into the examination room.

“Y/N…” Doc. Davis greets you with a smile, “I take it you’re here because you had a positive result?”

“Yup” you sigh in response, throwing yourself heavily into the seat at his desk.

“Ok… So, I’ll get everything ready for the blood tests, while you get comfortable on the examining table” Doc. Davis instructs you.

“No need” you drawl out, throwing your head back against the seat, “I took five tests… they all came out positive…”

“Wow…” Doc. Davis chuckles, “then you definitely are pregnant…”

You let out a deep groan, “guess so…”

“Then in that case, I’d like to do an ultrasound to see if the pregnancy is progressing well” Doc. Davis informs you, “we’ll still be drawing blood though, just to check if everything is well with the both of you.”

“Ah… there we are…” the doctor announces, “you see that little fella there…” pointing towards what looks like a blob to you. “That’s your baby…”

You laid there dumbfounded while the doctor did his magic with the ultrasound wand. So, this is real? It’s truly happening? You’re pregnant, not only that; you’re pregnant with John’s baby… What the fuck am I going to do? John already can’t stand you at this moment, he’ll surely hate you even more for this.

“Fetal pole is present and baby seems to measuring up to date, I’d say you’re about seven weeks” the doctor informs you, “and now for the real magic…”

You’re suddenly brought out of your chaotic thoughts by loud, rapid sound waves echoing through the room. Staring at the monitor wide eyed, you turn to look at the doctor, “is that…”

“Yup…” he nods at you and smiles, “that’s your baby’s heartbeat. Strong and healthy too…” He pressed a few more buttons on the machine and then removes the wand from inside you, “you can get dressed while I go and arrange your next follow up with reception.”

Sitting behind the wheel of your car in your reserved parking bay at work, you silently stared at the printed picture of your baby’s ultrasound. My…baby… You silently think to yourself. I still can’t believe this is really happening… Oh-my-god… I’m going to be a mother…

You faintly smile at it then; you always wanted to be a mother, although this wasn’t how you had pictured it would happen… you found yourself becoming excited at this new adventure in your life. Regardless of the situation with John, this baby was yours and you planned on keeping it.

Staring one last time at the picture, you tuck it deep at the bottom of your handbag, getting out of the car to head inside.

“Hey, Y/L/N where ya been?” Jones asks as you enter the office.

Placing your bag and gun in the draw of your desk, you respond, “had an appointment I had to go to.”

Jones nods at you in responds and that’s when you notice John curiously staring at you. Please don’t interact with me right now… You silently plead. When he turns away to head in the opposite direction, you let out a sigh of relief.

Checking to see if the Captain was alone, you decide to that now was a good time as any to disclose your pregnancy to him.

“Hey, Captain…” you knock on his open office door, “could I have a word with you.”

“Sure, come on in…” he replies, “what can I do for you, Y/N?”

“Um…” you stammer a bit while closing the door, taking a seat at his desk, “I thought I should inform you; that I just came from the doctor’s and… I’m pregnant…”

“Wow…” the Captain blinks at you in surprise, “well, congratulations… you do know I have to report this to the higher ups?”

“I know, Sir” you nod at him, “I only have one requested though. Could this remain just between the two of us and the higher ups for now?”

“Sure” the Captain agrees, “I’ll assign you and Jones to risk free cases for now, but eventually you’ll be assigned to desk duty.”

“I understand, thank you, Sir” you reply getting up from your seat to leave.

“Y/N…” the Captain calls out to you before you open the door to leave, “once again; congratulations.”

You smile at him in response, “thank you, Sir.”

Once you had come to terms with becoming a mother, you drove head first into ensuring that this pregnancy would go smoothly; getting the prenatal vitamins the doctor had prescribed you and making some changes in your eating habits.

“Morning…” Dean yawned out, heading directly for the coffee as usual. “What heck is this poison?!” turning around from the stove, you notice Dean staring in disgust at the mug in his hand.

“Oh” you head to the coffee machine next to the one he had poured from, “that’s decaf…” you explain replacing the mug in his hand with the one you just poured, “this is normal.”

“Since when do we have two coffee makers?” Dean raised a brow at the two machines standing next to each other.

“Since just drinking herbal tea started making me miserable…” you answer him matter-of-factly.

“Ok… who are you? And what have you don’t to Y/N?” Dean arches a brow in suspicion at you.

“Ee…” you shrug, giving him an evil grin then, “maybe I’m her evil clone sent here from outer space to infiltrate and destroy mankind…”

“Don’t- do- that!” Dean physically shudders, looking at you bug-eyed, “you scare me when you do that… I almost believed you for a second.”

“Then stop being so nosey” you chuckle at his response.

As the days went by, you truly started feeling pregnant once the nausea had kicked in. Luckily for you though it wasn’t full-on morning sickness, so it was manageable for you to hide from everyone.

“Nah, this ain’t right!” you hear Jones moaning while going through paperwork at his desk, “we keep getting all these crap cases, with no action at all. Y/L/N, what do you think about this crap?”

“Huh?” your head pops up from behind your computer as you blankly scan the room in confusion. “I guess so…” you shrug, popping a saltine cracker in your mouth.

Jones raises a brow at you, “that all you got to say?”

“Mhm-yep…” you mumble with a mouth full of cracker.

“Are you on some sort of diet or something?” Jones suddenly asks.

Taking a sip of your seltzer water to wash the cracker down, you look at him, “why do you ask?”

“Because, you’ve been eating that flavourless crap whole day for the past few days now” Jones answers you.

“Something of the sort, yeah” you reply.

“You need to eat real food, Girly or you’re going to make yourself sick” Jones remarks in disapproval, sounding every bit the middle-aged man that he was.

“I’ll be fine…” you shrug it off with a chuckle, suddenly pausing mid chuckle when you notice; John staring at you with narrowed eyes as if he was trying to figure something out.

“Y/L/N!” you hear the Captain call out your name from his office doorway, “I need to see you for a second.”

A bit confused at why the Captain needed to see you, you enter his office with a nervous frown. “Is something wrong, Captain?”

“No. Not really” he responds with a sigh of regret, “but I’m afraid that I’ll have to bench you sooner than we thought.”

You look at him in surprise then, “what? Why?”

“The others are starting to complain about the high workload being given to them and Jones is complaining about the lack of it” he explains to you.

“I understand…” you drop your head in defeat at the fact that you could no longer avoid the inevitable.

“I’m sorry about this, Kiddo but I have to be fair towards everyone” he looks at you apologetically, “and I also have to make sure that you’re not in any dangerous situations during this pregnancy.”

Nodding at him in understanding, you get up from your seat with sigh, “guess I’ll get started on my new duties…”

“Y/N, hold on...” the Captain stops you from leaving. “There’s something I think you might be interested in. An old buddie of mine called me up recently from Tulsa. They’re opening up an O.C unit, which he’ll be captaining and he was wondering if I could recommend one of my people for the Sergeant’s position.”

“Ok…” you stare at him, a bit puzzled at where he was going with this conversation.

“I recommended you” he informs you.

“B-But I don’t have a sergeants rank” you respond, surprised at what he was telling you, “and I’m pregnant.”

“I know that…” the Captain smirks at your response, “I informed him about it all and he’s still interested in having you as his second. You’re one of my best detectives, all you have to do is take the Sergeants exam and then you’ll be set.”

“I’m honoured that you thought about me for the position” you reply, “but… I’m not sure…”

“Just think on it for a bit” the Captain suggests, “it’s a greater opportunity for you, especially now with a baby on the way.”

Biting your lip in thought, you then nod, “I’ll think about it.”

A Few Days Later

“Morning…” a still half-asleep Dean enter the kitchen with a yawn.

“Good morning, Bubble-butt…” you greet him while tenting to breakfast at the stove.

“Say… what’s this?” you suddenly here him ask out of the blue.

“What?” you turn around to find him staring at your open laptop.

“Are taking the Sergeants exam?” Dean looks up at you in surprise at seeing the opened police manual on your laptop screen.

“Maybe” you shrug, “still thinking about it.”

“Is Harris retiring?” Dean then asks you.

“Nope” you answer.

“Then why are thinking of taking the exam?” Dean looks at you confused, “unless…” his face then shows one of revelation, “are you transferring out?”

“There’s an opening coming up that I was offered” you explain to him, “but it hasn’t been decided yet.”

“Where?” Dean presses for more details, “does Dad know?”

“Can’t tell ya” you answer with a shake of your head, “at least not until I’ve decided. John doesn’t know, no body else but you and the Captain knows and I’d to keep it that way for now.”

“Ok… fine…” Dean huffs out all sulky, “but I wanna be the first to know once you’ve decided.”

With a huge smile on your face, lifting your palm up; you then spit in it and extend the hand out to Dean, “DEAL.”

“I hate it when we have to do these…” Dean pulls a face as he does the same.

“You’re the one started it in the first place” you chuckle at the look on his face as stared at his now spit covered hand.

“Yeah, but that was when we were in the academy and we were mostly drunk when we did it” Dean remarks, physically shuddering as he goes to wash his hands at the sink.

“Fair enough…” you continue to chuckle for a bit longer at him.

Thursday

“Happy- Birthday- to- you-” you entered Dean’s bedroom singing, a piece of pie with a candle in it and a cup of coffee in hand.

“Aww… thank you SIS” Dean smiles at you as he blew out the candle.

“My pleasure, Butthead…” you respond, placing a kiss on his forehead, “breakfast will be ready in 10.”

“You got any aspirin?!” Dean calls out to from the hallway.

“Bathroom medicine cabinet!” you call out in response, regretting those words the instant you said them. You had forgotten that was also the place you kept your prenatal vitamins.

“Dean, wait!” you call out, rushing to your room to stop him from seeing them, but it was too late.

“Err… what are these?” you find a surprised looking Dean standing in your bathroom holding the box in his hand.

“T-That’s nothing” you nervously answer, silently trying to figure a way out of this predicament.

“Really??” Dean arches a brow at you, placing a hand on his hip in a sassy manner, “because there’s a pregnant woman on the box and it clearly says; for pregnant woman. Y/N, are you pregnant?”

Grabbing the box with a sigh, “come on...” you nod for him to follow you to the kitchen.

“Eat your breakfast and I’ll explain everything in a minute” you instruct Dean as you get water to take your vitamins.

Grabbing your breakfast, you take a seat next to Dean, “to answer your question; yes, I am pregnant” you remark, taking a bit of food thereafter.

Dean stares at you with a blank daze for second, “was it that dude from the bar?”

You burst out laughing at his question, “honey, I’m almost twelve weeks. That’s highly impossible.”

“Ok…” Dean seems quite confused then, “do I know the guy?”

Yes. It’s your father. I silently answer in my head. With a faint smile, you reply, “No, was a once off thing.”

“So, you’re doing this on your own?” Dean responds with a frown.

“Yes” you answer.

“Don’t worry” Dean grabs your hand, “I’ll be here for you.”

“Dean, you don’t have to” you tell him.

“Nope” Dean waves his hand in the air to silence your protests, “what kind of BROTHER would I be if I wasn’t there for my SIS in her time of need.”

“Thank you” you smile at him, tears welling up in your eyes.

With a huge smile on his face, Dean excitedly hollers out, “I’m gonna be an UNCLE! Hell yeah!”

Softly chuckling at Dean’s goofiness, you allow him to hug you once more while in the back of your mind you were thinking. No, honey. You’re going to be a big BROTHER again.

Later That Evening

You were feeling miserable with your nausea kicking your ass, but no matter how terrible you felt, you couldn’t pull out of Pub night tonight; not with-it being Dean’s birthday.

You were slouched over the table, head rested in one hand as you lazily snacked on the bowl of salted pretzels in front of you.

“You ok, Y/N/N?” Sam looks at you in concern.

“Huh?” you look up at him.

“You’re aren’t eating any birthday pie” Sam points out, “you just seem to be drowning yourself in those pretzels.”

“It’s probably for the nausea” Dean remarks around a mouth full of pie. “Ouch!” he suddenly cries out when you kick him from underneath the table, sending him a death glare.

Dean’s eyes then widen when he realizes the slipup he had just made. You had made him promise to keep your pregnancy a secret for now from everyone, including Sam and John.

“Nausea?” Sam tilts his in confusion.

“Haven’t being feeling well these past for days” you quickly try to brush it off.

“That’s not good, Y/N/N” Sam looks at you highly concerned now, “have you been to a doctor?”

“Maybe if she got her ass up from that desk she’s been lazing behind then she would be healthier” John sneers out as he glared at you.

“That’s it!” you jump up from your seat, glaring down at John, “I’ve had enough of your fucking bullshit attitude towards me! I thought getting reassigned from you would lessen it, but I guess I was wrong!”

“So, you’re the reason I got stuck with that pussy of a rookie” John smirks at you vindictively, “guess you were too much of a cry-baby that you had to go run to the Captain and complain about 'mean-old John'.”

Shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, you then open them to look at John once again. “You know what, I don’t have to take this from you anymore and don’t plan doing it for long either.” Grabbing your bag, you turn to Dean, “Happy Birthday, Bub. I’m going to leave before it gets spoilt any further.”

“Seriously, Dad!” Dean glares at his father as Y/N walks away, “did you have to be such an asshole?”

“Watch your mouth, Boy” John warns him with a glare.

“No, Dad” Sam then jumps in, “Dean’s right, you were being a total ass toward Y/N.”

“I was only stating the truth” John shrugs in response, taking a sip of his drink while both his sons stare at him in disappointment.

The next day after the huge blowout between John and yourself, you made the decision to take yourself out of the picture with the Winchesters. You loved Dean and Sam like they were your own siblings but you just couldn’t stand being around their father anymore.

Whatever bit of love you had left for John Winchester had died that night, the man despised you that was clear to see. So, for your own mental health and that of your baby’s you decided to go to your Captain and inform him that you were going to take the Sergeants exam, as well as the job in Tulsa.

After weeks of completely ignoring John; avoiding any and all interaction with him, you throw all your energy into studying and finally taking the Sergeants exam. Dean of course knew about it and that you were going to take the position offered to you, but what he didn’t know; was that it was in another State, you planned on telling him once the time for you to move was nearer.

You were well into your second trimester by this time, so you had begun to wear more looser clothing in order to hide your bump while outside your apartment.

The one thing you were grateful for was that you could freely walk around your apartment without having to hide your pregnancy. After the night of Dean’s birthday, both he and Sam had apologized for their father’s bad behaviour. You of course didn’t hold the BOYS responsible for something they didn’t do, you even allowed Sam in on your secret. He of course was just as excited about it as Dean was to play UNCLE, they both also came to the decision that, John should no longer be allowed to come around the apartment, as stress wasn’t good for you and the baby.

The day had finally come and you had been called in by your Captain; whom happily congratulated and informed you that you passed your Sergeants exam, and that they were eagerly awaiting your arrival in Tulsa in two weeks’ time.

That same night, you arranged a dinner evening with Dean and Sam to inform them about your moving.

“Guys” you speak up to get their attention.

Both of them then look up from their plates to stare at you. “What’s up?” Dean curiously stares at you.

Taking a deep breath, you then continue, “the reason why I called for tonight’s dinner was to inform you that I passed the Sergeants exam and that I’m taking the new position I was offered.”

“Why, Y/N/N, that awesome!” Sam gasps out in excitement, “congratulation!”

“Thank you…” you mutter out, your eyes dropping in somewhat saddest that you were leaving behind the people that you considered to be FAMILY.

“Wait…” Dean furrows his brows in suspicious, “there’s something you’re not telling us.”

“Yes…” you sadly sigh, looking up to them again, “the position, it’s in Tulsa…”

“What?!” both of them yell out at once.

“Shh…” you tell them, “inside-voice, fellas…”

“Sorry” Dean responds in apology, “but did you just say, that you’re moving to Tulsa?”

“Yes” you answer matter-of-factly.

“Why??” Sam stares at you in confusion.

“Because it's a great opportunity” you answer, “especially with a baby on the way.”

“But that means we won’t be around when the baby is born” Dean responds, looking genuinely hurt at the idea.

“You guys can always come visitor” you try to lessen the blow for them.

“But it won’t be the same-” Dean whines out like a little child, “I wanted to witness you becoming a whale first-hand…”

You gasp out, slapping Dean up against the head, “Dumbass.”

“But I’m your Dumbass-” he remarks with a smirk.

“That you are…” you chuckle out as he gets up to pull you in for a hug.

Sam then looks at you, saddest clearly in his eyes as well, “we’re really happy for you, Y/N/N. We’ll miss you, but we understand that you have to do what’s best for you.”

“Aww… Sammy-” you start to tear up, “come over here, you big lug” you motion for him to get in on the hug.

“Does Dad know?” Dean suddenly asks and you physically finch at the question.

“Dean…” Sam scolds at him.

“It’s ok, Sam” you faintly smile at the both of them, “no one in the squadron knows yet. I asked the Captain to wait until tomorrow to make the announcement, wanted you guys to know first.”

“Are you planning on telling him about the baby?” Sam inquires.

“No” you state matter-of-factly, “he can’t stand the look of me as it is, so why should I tell him. You guys can tell him once I’m gone if you want to though, just please wait until I’m gone.”

“Fair enough” both boys agree.

Next Day

To say you were a bit nervous when entering your unit office this morning would be an understatement; today the Captain will be announcing to the entire squadron about your transfer.

You were seated at your desk for only a few minutes after stepping into the office when you noticed the Captain step out of his office.

“Attention everyone, I have a announce to make!” he calls out to the open office floor. Everyone turns their attention towards him them. “Y/L/N, can you please here” the Captain calls you over to his side.

Everyone was looking at you then as you walked over to him, you feeling quite jittery as you stood by his side. “I would like to inform you all that our very own, Y/N over here…” the Captain then pulls you into a side hug while smiling, “has made Sergeant.”

The room is then filled with clapping and cheering as you politely smiled at everyone. “Hold on, that’s not all!” the Captain speaks up for them to quiet down. “as much as this pains me to say” he pauses for second and then continues, “the next two weeks will be Y/N’s last here with us, as she’ll be starting her new position in Tulsa as Sergeant in their new O.C unit.”

There was a huge silence in the room as everyone seemed surprised at the news of you leaving, but the one person’s face that showed far more shock than the others was; John. That’s right asshole, you silently smirked, you won’t be seeing my cry-baby self for much longer.

John found himself completely stunned as he heard the Captain say that Y/N was not only leaving the unit but that she was leaving the state as well. Not being able to properly process the information, John blindly rushes out of the office in order to lower his heartrate at the panic of loosing Y/N. She was leaving… she was leaving the unit, leaving the city, leaving the state and even worse; she was leaving him…

When John finally came to his senses he was driving, where to? He wasn’t exactly sure. Still not able to process all that he had heard, John pulls over in order to call Dean.

“Hey, Dad…” Dean answers the phone.

“Did you know about Y/N?” John immediately asks Dean.

“Uh… what exactly are you referring to?” Dean asks, treading carefully as not to accidently let slip of Y/N’s pregnancy if that wasn’t what John was referring to.

“Her moving to Tulsa” John growls out in frustration.

“Oh, that” Dean responds, “yeah, she told us about it last night.”

“Us?” John enquires.

“Sammy and I” Dean replies.

“And you didn’t think to maybe let me know about it?” John growls out at what he thought was a betray on his boys’ part for keeping him out of the loop.

“Well, you were such a dick to her lately” Dean responds, “thought you wouldn’t care to know.”

“She’s been my partner for the past five years” John snaps at him, “of course I’d want to know!”

“Didn’t seem like that was the situation of late” Dean mutters, “she believes you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her…” John whispers out softly, shocked to hear what Y/N thought.

“Well, you sure have some way of showing that you don’t” Dean remarks.

She thinks I hate her? SHIT. Truth was, that he was mad at himself for not being man enough to step-up and tell her how he truly felt about her. Truth was, John was madly in love with Y/N, something that he hadn’t left since the day he lost Mary and that scared the hell out of him. Could he open his heart up again and run the risk of having it torn out again? That was something that constantly ate at him, John feared loving someone again only to have her ripped away from him. This time though things were different, because the one ripping Y/N away from him was himself; he pushed her too far with his inner struggles, he pushed away the woman that he loved.

John lets out a heavy sigh, “I have to go, son” ending the call.

You had taken a half day from work in order to prepare for your move to Tulsa; first you went to your doctor to see to having your medical records transferred for the rest of the duration of your pregnancy, thereafter you headed to the bank.

You were standing in line, awaiting your turn when suddenly two masked men came rushing in; guns waving about. “Everyone put your hands up and nobody move!” the one robber yells out.

Doing your best to remain calm, you do exactly what they had instructed; the cop in you struggling to remain dormant as the mother in you took control, knowing you had to do everything in your power to ensure the safety of your unborn child.

“Everyone, take out your phones and wallets!” the one robber instructs and everyone obeys, “now I want you to toss ‘em on the floor and then my partner is gonna come around to collect all your jewellery and wallets! Don’t try anything stupid or I’ll shoot you!”

You do as told and when it was your turn, you remove whatever jewellery you were wearing and toss it in the bag that the robber held out in front of you.

“Hey!” the robber then begins waving his gun in your face, pointing toward the silver chain that was sticking out from underneath your shirt, “didn’t my partner just say, all of your jewellery?”

Staring down at it, you then calmly look him in the eyes, “that’s not jewellery.”

“Bullshit! Then what is it huh?!” he snaps at you, reaching out to pull it out from your shirt. “FUCK!” his eyes widen in shock once his sees your badge daggling from it.

“What?!” his partner yells out in confusion.

“She’s a fucking cop!” he responds.

“What the fuck?!” his partner begins to visibly panic, “SHIT! You got a gun on you?”

Remaining calm, you reply, “yeah.”

“Ok…” he mutters out, becoming more agitated by the second, “take it out real… slowly… and hand it over to my partner.”

Calmly exhaling, you slowly reach for your shoulder holster that was hidden inside your coat to remove your gun. As you unholster and pull it out, you suddenly hear the loud bang of a gun going off, along with those of people screaming out in fear. Your eyes are wide with shock as you feel a warm, burning sensation in your chest.

“What the fuck?!” the robber standing in front of you cries out, looking at his partner in shock and then back at you.

Slowly your eyes drop downward to your chest, and that’s when you realized; that you were the one that was shot. Your knees suddenly give out from under you as you drop to the floor, your hand clutched at the wound in order to stop the bleeding.

“You shot her!” the robber stares at his partner, “you shot a fucking cop!” He then looks down at you on the floor and that’s when he notices your bump, “FUCK! She’s pregnant! You shot a pregnant cop!”

“She was about to draw on us!” his partner yells out in a hyped panic.

“No, she wasn’t!” the robber yells back at his partner, “she was handing it over, like you ordered her to do, you idiot!”

“Well, she moved too fast for my liking. How was I supposed to know!” his partner argues back.

“Shit! This place is going to be crawling with cops soon” the robber remarks in a state of panic, “lets get the fuck out of here!”

You laid there on the cold floor; bleeding and in pain, trying your best to remain calm and not panic as the fear for your baby’s life took over. As you felt yourself become weaker, the fact that you might be dying and might never get the chance to say goodbye to the BOYS ran through you mind. But what haunted you the most was; that John would never know how much you TRULY loved him, that he would never get to meet his child. The tears were flowing down your cheeks as you fought to stay alive, but your eyes soon began to feel heavy and suddenly there was nothing but darkness.

“Where’s Winchester?!” the Captain rushes out of his office in a panic.

“I think he went to take a leak” Jones answers from behind his desk, looking confused as he watches the Captain sprint down the hallway.

“John! Thank God…” the Captain exhales breathlessly as he catches John exiting the men’s bathroom.

“Captain?” John stares at him in concern, “are you ok?”

“I’m fine…” he exhales, waving his hand, “but we need to get to the hospital…”

“Why? What happened?” John looks at him in confusion.

“There was a shooting an-” he tries to explain but gets cut off by John. “Dean?!” John stares at him in panic.

“No…” the Captain shakes his head.

“Sam?” John asks then, at a loss to what was going now.

“No, it’s not your boys” the Captain responds, “it’s Y/N, she’s been shot.”

“What?!” John stares at him in shock, all colour drained from his face, “b-but… she went home early… how?”

“She did” the Captain replies, “there was an attempted robbery at the bank that she was in.”

Not even hearing the Captain’s words anymore, John rushes to his desk; grabbing his keys and runs out of the office.

“What’s up with Winchester?” Jones asks the Captain as he watched John running out like he was being chased by the devil himself.

“Y/N’s been shot in an attempted bank robbery” the Captain explains, heading to grab his own keys.

“Excuse me…” John rushes towards the hospital emergency reception desk out of breath, “has a Detective Y/L/N been brought in? Gunshot victim.”

“And you are?” the nurse enquires.

“I’m here partner” John replies, flashing his badge at her.

“She was brought in five minutes ago” the nurse responds, “they’re working on her as we speak to save both her and the baby.”

“Baby??” John echoes, stunned at her words.

“Yes” the nurse nods, “according to medical records she’s about five months pregnant.”

Five months? The undercover job were they… that means…

John’s thoughts are then interrupted by the arrival of the Captain, along with Dean and Sam.

“Dad!” Dean rushes up to him, “how’s she doing?”

“I don’t know…” John lets out a tense breath, “I was told that they’re still working on her.”

As they all waited for the news as to how Y/N was, John silently sat in a corner; mulling over what the nurse had told him. Was I really that bad? John thinks to himself. Was he really that horrible for Y/N to decide to hide her pregnancy from him. Choosing to move to another state rather than have him be a father to her child. He knew the baby was his, there was no doubt about it. The question now was; would he ever get the chance to be a father to that child and will he ever get the chance to tell Y/N that he LOVED her.

It was well over two hours when a doctor came to speak with them. “Are you here for Detective Y/L/N?” the doctor asks.

“Yes, how is she?” the Captain asks.

“It was touch-and-go for a while but we managed to stop the bleeding” the doctors explained, “had the bullet gone a few cm’s to the right, she wouldn’t have been so lucky…”

John exhaled a breath of relief that she was ok, but then he remembered…

“And the BABY?” Dean suddenly asks, causing John to wheel around in surprise.

“You knew she was pregnant?” John stares at him in disbelief.

“Yes” Dean guiltily drops his head.

“And you didn’t tell me?!” John excuses him.

“It’s not Dean’s fault, Dad” Sam defends his brother, “she asked us not to… said we could once she had left for Tulsa.”

“You knew too?!” John looks to Sam with a betrayed face.

“Of course…” Sam stares back at him in confusion.

“I’m guessing you knew too” John glares at the Captain, “of course you knew! That’s why you benched her.”

“Look Dad, it was Y/N’s decision not to tell you and her right as well” Sam tries to make John see reason.

“What about my rights?!” John snares at him, “I had a right to know!”

Dean looks at his father in confusion, “why would you- OH…” his eyes widen once the dots have connected. “Five months ago, you and Y/N were alone undercovering… that means… it’s you… you’re the FATHER of Y/N’s baby.”

“Honestly, I’m not surprised…” the Captain chuckles out, “all my years, I’ve never seen partners so close and completely in sync as you two were.”

“I’m not surprised either” Sam smirks, John then arches a brow at him and he continues on, “I always knew she had feelings for you. I could see it in her eyes, especially on those nights you’d leave the Pub with a woman. I could see the heartbreak.”

John physically flinches at Sam’s remark, hating himself for having caused Y/N so much pain.

All this time when he was picking up random women in a quest to distract himself of his want for Y/N, he was in actual fact hurting her far worst than he could have possibly have known. John had no idea that Y/N felt the same for him as he did her. If he had known; those women would never even had been in existence for him then, she would have been the ONLY woman to exist for him. Truth be told, after having been with her… no one was good enough; no other woman could get his mind off of her. The last woman had slept with was Y/N, he had tried to get her off his mind with that blonde that evening but with just one kiss; John knew that he wouldn’t be able to get himself to sleep with her no matter how hard he tried. Because there was only one woman that he wanted and that woman was; Y/N.

“So, I was the only one that didn’t see this coming?” Dean looks dumbfounded by it all.

“That’s because you’re an idiot” Sam answers with a snicker, “and you two are as close as siblings and you wouldn’t have thought of her and Dad in such a manner.”

Dean pauses deep in thought, then nods in agreement, “true…”

John shakes his head at his sons in amusement, then turns to the doctor, “when can we see her?”

“She’s still under sedation but should come around in the half an hour or so, you can go in to see her though” the doctor answers.

“Thank you doctor…” John responds and heads for Y/N’s room.

Opening her eyes, Y/N finds herself lying on a bed in an unfamiliar bedroom.

Getting up from the bed, you look around the room, “where am I?” you ask out loudly in confusion, letting out a gasp upon catching your reflection in the mirror. “Why am I not pregnant anymore?!” you yell out in panic, clutching your middle, “where’s my baby?!”

Rushing out of the bedroom, stopping in your tracks when you’re standing in a hallway. Slowly you begin to walk it as you look at the pictures hanging on the walls; pictures of the BOYS when they were little, the ones of Dean and you graduating the academy, other pictures that you had taken with the Boys and John over the years. But it was the ones after those that had you at a puzzled shock, they were of John and you together, they were wedding pictures; your and John’s wedding. The two of you were lovingly staring at each other as you stood in front of a church, then there was a second with the Boys standing next to the two of you. The next were of a smiling John standing behind a heavily pregnant you as he rested his chin on your head while cradling your belly in the palm of his hands. The final one was a picture of you; lying in a hospital bed, John had his head rested against yours while you both were staring down and smiling at the baby sleeping on your chest.

Tearfully smiling at the picture, you reach out to touch it when suddenly you hear a sound coming from down the hall. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you move towards the sound to see what it was.

Reaching the slightly closed door, you slowly push it open and there sitting in a rocking chair across from you was; John gently cradling a bundle in his arms as he rocked back and forth in the chair.

“You’re awake…” John smiles at you, stretching his hand out, “come here SWEETHEART.”

“Is that?” you ask staring at the bundle he was holding.

“She finally fell asleep, but I think she was looking for her MAMA, that’s why she was so fussy” John replies.

“She??” you look at John in surprise as you stepped closer to them.

Just as you reached them, you suddenly felt the room begin to spin. “What’s happening?!” you clutch at your head, “John!” you try to grab onto him as you felt yourself slowly slipping away….

You let out a soft moan as your eyes slowly fluttered opened, “where am I?” remembering the shooting, your first reaction was to reach for your stomach and that’s when you realize that someone was holding your hand. “John?”

“You’re awake…” John gently smiles, lifting your hand up and kissing it.

“W-What are you doing here?” you pull your hand away, confused at his sudden change in behaviour.

“We came as soon as we heard what happened” John answers, looking slightly disappointed at your reaction towards him.

“We?” you ask.

“The Captain and the Boys are outside, only one person was allowed while we waited for you to wake up” John explains, “I’ll go get them.”

“Hey sleepy head…” Dean smiles at you.

“Glad to see you’re awake” the Captain smiles at you as well.

Looking behind him, you see Sam silently studying you with a worried look oh his face. “Sammy?”

“You ok?” he asks, a faint smile on his face as you reach out your hand for him to come closer.

“I’m fine…” you answer grabbing hold of his hand.

Turning to Dean with your over hand, you grab hold of his hand, “the ba-”

“The baby is fine…. According to the doctors; she’s a fighter, just like her mother” John answers before you could even finish your sentence.

“She??” you look at him surprised that the dream you had about the baby being girl was correct.

“It’s a girl, yes” John smiles at you.

“Guess that we’ll have to redo that custom-made onesie we had made for her” Dean suddenly remarks.

“What do you mean?” you stare at him puzzled.

“Well it says on the front; ‘My Uncles got my back, so don’t mess with me’ and at the back is a picture of Sam and I” Dean replies, “but now we’ll have to change it to; ‘My BROTHERS got my back.”

Your eyes widen at him in shock, “how did you find out?”

“Your five months pregnant, it wasn’t that hard to figure out” John mutters out, staring at you like a wounded animal.

“I think that the two of you have some things to discuss, so I’m going to go” the Captain speaks up, “glad that you and the baby are safe.”

“Yeah… we’re gonna go too” Dean remarks as well, “we’ll drop by later again.”

The room was awkwardly silent once they all had left, neither you nor John saying a word. Placing a hand on your stomach, you suddenly smile when feeling the baby kick at it.

“What it?” John looks at you in concern, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, she just kicked” you answer smiling at the fact that she was alive and well.

“C-Can I feel?” John looks to you with a pleading look.

Silently staring at him for a second, you then let out a sigh and nod at him to go ahead.

Very nervously, yet carefully, John slowly reaches out his hand to place on your stomach. The baby then begins kicking up a storm against his hand and John lets out a soft laugh of be-wonderment and you give a faint smirk at it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he stares up at you.

“You hated me…” you shrug, “didn’t think you’d care to know.”

“I don’t hate you…” John sighs out, “I could never hate you.”

“Well you’ve been treating me like shit these past months” you remark, “what else could it be.”

“I was mad at myself and took it out on you” John responds, ashamed at his past behaviour, “I’m sorry for making you think that I hated you.”

“Why were you mad at yourself?” you ask confused by what he was telling you.

“Because I couldn’t tell you how I truly felt” John answers.

“Felt about what?” you press him further.

“About you… how I felt about you” John reaches up to cup your cheek, “I LOVE you, Y/N. I have for years… since the very first day I met you.”

“Well you had a funny way of showing it” you look at him with tears in your eyes, “flaunting women in front of me.”

“I was only with them to get you off of my mind” John tells you, “I knew that we could never be because of your close relationship with the Boys. That you would never see me as anything else but your partner and the father of those that you considered as your brothers.”

“I thought the same thing about you…” you softly whisper out.

John softly caresses your cheek, “the first time, when I took you up against the wall… it wasn’t because I figured out they were keeping tabs on us. It was because I was jealous at how that asshole was flirting with you.”

“What?” you look at him in surprise.

“I couldn’t fight it anymore” John faintly smiles at you, “and all the other times after. I hated myself for using the job as an excuse but I was on cloud nine because I got to be with you. Heck, after that, no other woman could compare to you after that.”

“Until that blonde you took home” you remark, pulling away from his caress.

“I didn’t sleep with her” John responds.

“Yeah right” you snort out at him, “you couldn’t get her out of the Pun fast enough.”

“It’s true” John tells you, “we never even made it to my car before she kissed me and I realized she wasn’t you. Besides, I only struck up a conversation with her to make you jealous after the way you were flirting with that guy.”

“I wasn’t flirting him” you defend yourself, “he was flirting and I was trying not to be rube.”

“Well you slow danced with him” John looks at you accusingly.

“That’s because you brought that bimbo over to our table and I wanted to make you jealous.”

John then starts laughing, “look at the two of us… acting like teenagers; trying to make each other jealous because we couldn’t make ourselves admit our feelings…”

“We do sound kind of sound stupid, yeah…” you begin laughing as well. You then look at him with a more serious face, “so… you LOVE me…”

John grins at you, “I do… and you?”

Shyly biting into your lip, you grin back at him, “I LOVE you too…”

“That might be the second-best news I’ve gotten in a long time” John smiles at you.

“Second?” you look at him disappointed, “what was the first then?”

John smiles at your reaction, placing a hand on your stomach then, “finding out that you were carrying OUR little girl.”

Your eyes begin to tear up then as you stared at him. “Aww… SWEETHEART don’t cry…” John console you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“So, where do we go from here?” you stare up into his eyes.

“First, we get you healed up” John declares, “then you and I are getting married, so that we’ll be a real FAMILY. That’s if you’ll have me.”

“I’ll have your dumbass, yeah…” you smile at him.

“But I’m your dumbass…” John smiles back at you.

“That you are…” you respond pulling him down for a kiss.

Three Years Later

John and you stood silently on the back porch of your house as the two of your watched Dean and Sam playing with their little sister.

“What’s on your mind?” John asks, stepping behind you to rest his chin on your head.

“That I’m actually kind of glad I got shot that day” you respond.

“Seriously?” John arches a brow down at you.

“I know it sounds a bit crazy…” you chuckle, “but if it hadn’t happened, then I would have left for Tulsa and this…” you nod towards the scene in front of you, “you and me, along with Katie and the Boys, being a family… it never would have been a possibility.”

“Do you regret not going to Tulsa and taking that promotion?” John asks seeming a bit uneasy.

Tilting your head up to look at John, you cup his cheek, “of course not. I could never regret choosing OUR family.”

Smiling down at you, John reaches down to caress your belly, “how’s our little guy doing?”

“He’s doing fine, just kicking the heck out of me” you respond with a groan.

“He’s a Winchester, what do you expect…” John chuckled.

“He definitely is your son…” you chuckle as well.

“I love you, MRS. WINCHESTER…” John smiles down at you.

“I love you too, Mr Winchester…” you respond smiling as John captured your lips in a kiss.

Breaking the kiss, “how’s work?” you ask him.

“Well…” John’s exhales deeply, “it’s been some getting used to, but I’m ok with it. Things just weren’t the same without you as my partner, so I’m happy with where I am now.”

After the shooting John and you had both agreed that maybe it was best for you to retire. John out of fear of possibly losing you again with the danger of the job and because you didn’t want him to have to go through the heartache of losing another wife and having to raise your child on his own. And as luck would have it, a few months after that, Harris had retired as Sergeant and John got promoted; turns out the jerk had taken the exam years ago but chose to remain in the position he was. Luck would happen again the begin of this year, as the Captain decided to retire and he made sure to push for John to take over from him.

“Aww… you miss me that much PARTNER?” you coo at him in amusement.

“We’re PARTNERS IN CRIME, sweetheart” John grins down at you.

“And now, PARTNERS IN LIFE” you smile back at him.

John presses his forehead against yours, “PARTNERS FOREVER…”

tags: @melixson @regalbanshee

#john winchester #john winchester x you #john winchester x reader #detective john winchester #detective reader #supernatural #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #JDM

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supernaturalistthings · 2 months

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Roadhouse

Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18 contains smut

Summary: You have had feelings for Dean Winchester for a while and never thought you guys would be more than friends but on a case Dean's jealousy gets the best of him and the truth comes out.

You set your takeout box on the desk and sigh, putting a hand to your head to rub between your eyebrows looking for some kind of stress relief. Detective Bass eyes you and sets his takeout box on the table separating the two of you and leans in, setting one of his hands on the table. His gaze is intense and it puzzles you further.

“We will figure this out” he finally says

He was partially correct, he just had the wrong “We”. You and Dean would figure this out, you had been on this case for two days now and still hadn't pinpointed what exactly was attacking the women in this town. You were utterly exhausted, this cheap pencil skirt keeps riding up, the fluorescent lighting is giving you a headache, and the autopsy results are starting to blur.

“Hey you want to turn in” he says, reaching around the table to rest his hand on your thigh. Don't get it twisted, Detectives Bass’s sharp features, dark hair, and lean build could make any woman's head turn however you have had a certain hunter on your mind and had for a while now. As if on cue you hear a familiar voice say

“Hope i'm not interrupting” Bass’s hand flinches back as Dean stands in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

He tensely walks forwards and takes a seat on your side of the table. Straightening his suit out as he does. He sends a look laced with daggers into your profile and you tense. You know he's as annoyed about this case as you were and try to let it go.

“You're not, we were just finishing up actually” You reply. You stand up and start to gather the files on the table when you look over. Dean's eyes aren't on you but on the detective across the table, His jaw is locked and his hand is clenched in a fist so hard that his knuckles are turning white. You turn your attention back to the papers and then look up and make direct eye contact with the detective. He was looking directly at you with his hand running over his bottom lip and chin, if you didn't know better you'd say that was lust in his eyes.

“Well it's been a pleasure working with you tonight Agent Seager…” he says referring to you, “... it's just been wonderful” He reaches a hand out intended for you to take, and you do. You shake his hand and he looks so deeply into your eyes, he might be able to see through you.

The silence is interrupted by Dean clearing his throat and standing and reaching his hand out to shake the detective's “Pleasures all mine” their hand meets and the tension is palpable. Dean is intense right now and it makes Bass shift on his feet. Your confusion was probably written on your face. Dean drops his hand but not his gaze and you put your hand on his upper arm to break the match. Dean looks at you annoyed, rolls his eyes and starts making his way towards the door with you following behind. You try to match his pace as you two hastily head toward the exit.

The big exit doors open and as soon as they do Dean turns back and without saying anything grabs your hand and starts literally walking you to the car. You're struggling to keep his pace and your mind is racing at his touch, but also his demeanor and why it is the way it is. You both come upon the car. You open the door and get in and slam it behind you, fueled by Dean's attitude. He does the same and you finally cut the tension as the engine roars to life and he pulls out of the parking lot.

“What is your issue?” You say snarkily

He says nothing and stares at the road ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“Whatever” you say after realizing from the length of his silence that he had no intention of answering your question. You sit and contemplate what you could've done to annoy him so much and anticipate seeing the motel come into vision. But it doesn't. A run down roadhouse does. Probably even the gnarliest bikers wouldn't even touch this place yet, here we are. You snap your head in his direction the second he parks and say

“What in the actual hell are we doing here?” He rolls his eyes and looks over in your direction in one swift motion. He looks down your entire body and back up again to meet your eyes. This isn't unusual. You have caught him doing it before but never so blatantly and certainly not while harboring such annoyance for you, or what you thought was annoyance. You had always wondered if it meant anything to Dean the way you hoped it had.

It was hard to care that he was annoyed with you when he looks as stunning as he does. His tie is now loose, his jaw is sharp, his hair is slightly tousled from running hand through it occasionally on the drive to the roadhouse. It was possible you were also giving him a subconscious once over and he must have noticed. He smirks and his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes.

“I'll forget you let Detective Bass have the pleasure of undressing you with his eyes if you join me for a drink” he says still smirking and with a bluntness that stirs something inside of you but you're quick to retort

“I didn-”

“Yes or no..” he says interrupting and without breaking eye contact, still smirking.

Your mind is racing with all the possibilities right now, swimming with all the endless ways this night could unfold. All you can say is

“Yes” with that he grins a jackpot smile and opens his door to get out you're too stunned to move when your door opening breaks you from your thoughts. You turn and see Dean's hand stretched out for you to take. You follow your eyes up and meet his green ones and they're a shade that you've never noticed before with an apparent sparkle. You take his hand and allow him to lift you out of the seat of the impala. He shuts the door behind and you and you take one last glance at each other before you both head hand in hand into the rundown roadhouse.

He opens the door for you and and you're confronted with a loudly playing “Night Moves’ by Bob Seager, rainbow strobe lights and the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. You look over at Dean with a look that says really? and he says

“Oh cmon, give it a chance” and with that he takes his hand that was previously holding yours and grabs your waist and pulls you to him. You're tucked firmly into his side and he walks the both of you over to the bar and orders a beer, a shot of whiskey for himself and a tequila cran for you. Your favorite, he noticed.

The first round comes and goes and so does a second and half of the third before you need a bathroom. You wait for Dean to finish a genuinely engaging story, all of them have been you love just talking and getting to know him without the thought of the world's doom on your shoulders. Right now it feels like only you two matter and every word that spills from his beautiful lips fuels this. You say you'll be right back and he smiles as you silently slightly struggle to lift yourself off the seat, It felt like you had been on for way too long.

You make your way to the bathroom and open it up and find it's not as gross as you were expecting. Shocked and pleased, you head to the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is slightly disheveled from running your hands through it while talking with Dean, your dress shirt had opened an extra button and your skirt was becoming a little too short. You looked kinda hot in a messy sort of way but you decided to straighten yourself out and splash some water on your face to hopefully offset the alcohol coursing through your system at the moment.

You rest your hands on either side of the sink and try to compose yourself with use of your reflection when the door you thought you locked behind you opens and shuts. You quickly turn around to face the intruder and are met with Dean. He's staring at you in a way that takes your breath away and urge to curse him out for barging in. He looks at you the way you've always wanted him to look at you. He’s breathless himself when he slowly reaches his hand behind him to turn the lock on the door.

His eyes don't leave yours. He takes a few steps forward until you can feel each other's breath fanning over each other's cheeks. You can't think of anything else other than the hue of his green eyes, the few freckles he has, and how kissable his lips look.

“You drive me crazy… and you have for a while now” he says as he lifts his hand to brush some hair from the sides of your face.

“What-” you say, feeling like you're gasping for air.

“I can't see you with anyone else… ever'' there's a brief silence and then he tilts his head and whispers against your neck “i adore you… you have no idea what you do to me..” his hands slowly and tenderly grasp your waist and you’re having trouble deciphering if this is actually happening or if that third tequila cran has you hallucinating on the sidewalk somewhere. All you know is his hands feel really real on your waist and his breath on your neck travels all the way down to where you want him most, that also feels very real.

“Say anything..please… I'll take anything right now…” He pulls back without taking his hands away from your waist, thankfully, the feeling is electrifying. His face has a tinge of worry of doubt and you can't stand it.

“I feel the same…” You say taking the sides of his face into your hands. You watch as the doubt is erased from his face and that jackpot Dean Winchester grin creeps its way onto his face once again.

“...I have for a while now” you say with your own grin. Proud of stealing his line and finally admitting your feelings to the man you adore. He leans in, sealing your lips and in this moment it feels fate. His hands move from your waist to the sides of your face as if he can't possibly get enough of you. The kiss is passionate, tender, everything you both ever wanted. Your hands ignite wildfires across each other's bodies as you explore and feel what you had both wanted more than anything for a long time now.

He places his hands on the sink behind you, caging you in and breaks the kiss to look down and steady himself. He feels ravenous right now and it's taking everything in him to not rip your clothes off and take you right here. You're not making it any easier as that is exactly what you want right now, it's exactly what you need. He looks up with his mesmerizing green eyes and says

“You have no idea how bad I want you right now...”

“Nothings stopping you...” you say in a whisper hovered against his lips while you regather the sides of his face into your hands. He kisses you again but this time with no sign of an end or hesitation. You pull his tie with both hands until it's undone and throw it to the floor. The kiss is feverish and intense. You love the feeling of him and he feels the same.

You start to undo the many buttons on his dress shirt and he starts to do the same to you almost as if in a race. You fling it off his shoulders and pull it down his strong arms. You help him slide yours down your shoulders and sneak a quick glance as it falls to the floor. You're both panting, desperate for air but even more desperate for each other. He carefully moves his hand over your breasts through your bra and just like that you're a moaning mess.

“I want to see you… all of you” he says as he puts his hands back to your waist and turns you so you're facing the mirror. He unclasps your bra while standing behind you and slides the straps off your shoulders and as you watch as it falls off your frame onto the floor. He's kissing your neck and has his hand on the other side. His free hand is trailing its way from your nipple, to your stomach, to the ends of your now very ridden up pencil skirt.

He pulls it up all the way to your stomach and starts rubbing you through your panties. Soft circles to match the soft wet kisses all over your neck, the other hand moves down your chest and cups your breast and massages. His touch is euphoric and all you want is him. You can feel that all he wants is you from his hardness pressed onto your backside.

“You'll never want another man after what I'm going to do to you… I can promise you that sweetheart…” he whispers against your neck, while continuing to place soft hypnotic kisses, and rub circles over your clothed clit. You can see yourself unraveling through what glimpses you can catch in the mirror. You're rested against his toned chest with your head thrown back and eyes screwed shut moaning and gasping out Dean's name. He has just found his new favorite song.

When he pulls away, you snap your head to look in the mirror just to catch his devious eyes before he turns you once again to face him. He leans down and simultaneously reconnects your lips and lifts you so you're resting on the edge of the sink. His hands are on your thighs and he's standing between them. You guys are kissing all over each other. It's heavenly. You're both grinding against each other and you start to undo his pants and tug them down. He helps and pulls them the rest of the way down.

He's already hard and he's big. Bigger than you'd ever had. You take him into your hands and start pumping him eliciting a string of moans and grunts that only fuels you more. He’s wanted this for so long and it was about to happen. He takes himself from you and looks at you with a question, are you sure? You nod wanting nothing more. He smiles and kisses you again. He hooks a single finger around your panties and moves them to the side. He slides himself along your slick folds, relishing the feeling.

He slightly pushes the tip in and moves in and out slowly giving you time to adjust. He's panting and gasping at the tightness. You're grasping at his shoulders and loving the sensation. He pushes in further and you're singing his name in praise. He starts to move and then moves feverishly. You both have wanted this for so long you can't get enough. Youre hand are running everywhere over eachothers bodies and hes holding you in his strong arms as he fucks you. You can feel yourself unraveling and judging by the slight sloppiness of his thrusts, he's almost there as well. You tighten around him and cum which seems to set him over the edge and the next thing you feel is him spilling out of you.

You're both a mess and simultaneously rest your heads on each other's shoulders trying to catch your breath.

“That was-”

“Amazing” he cuts you off and picks himself off your shoulder still breathless and gives you a quick kiss. Neither of you move, unsure if you ever wanted to leave this bathroom, this moment. You just stay in eachothers eyes for a bit.

“We should get going” you say with a smile crossing your arms around his neck

“So eager for round two?” he replies with that signature smirk grabbing your waist and pulling you off the sink to stand. He holds you there.

“If that's what it takes to get us out of this place faster than absolutely” you say with a laugh and it earns one from him as well. You both redress yourselves, helping each other along the way. You’re both smiling and giddy and it's just comfortable.

You both go to walk hand and hand out of the roadhouse bathroom and as soon as the door opens you're both greeted with an embarrassingly long line of skeevy bar patrons, all shooting daggered stares you and Dean's way.

“Worth it” he says while looking at you, dare you say lovingly.

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural headcanon #supernatural imagine #dean winchester headcannons #dean winchester moodboard #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean #dean winchester smut #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester x female!reader

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 10 months

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༉‧₊˚. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

― pairing: sam winchester x plus size!reader

― summary: sam winchester was never comfortable with pda, but while on a hunt, sam is shaken with the harsh reality that he's needy, and the only person that can fix it was you.

― warnings: kissing, making out, dry humping, marking, teasing, needy sam winchester.

― wc: 1288

⋆ a/n: more old writing sigh, but i guess i can say i kind of like this one but i kinda didn't know a lot about sam's character when i wrote this because i was only in the earlier seasons then, but now since i've watched the show three times, i feel like i can say that i know his character like the back of my hand!

masterlist | AO3

You had no idea what was up with Sam that day, but he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. He wasn't usually a PDA type of person, opting to keep the kisses pg, meaning only cheek, temple, or forehead kisses. You had no problem with it, because if he wasn't comfortable with doing it out in the open or if he was afraid it would make him look unprofessional, you had no reason to try and push him to do anything he didn't want to.

When the affection happened in private, it just made it all the more special, both of your senses heightened and a lot more pleasurable when you two made love.

You never usually joined the brothers on hunts per Sam's request, only staying behind in the hotel room to offer some emotional support afterwards; but this time, you felt like going on an adventure. Dean was more than happy to humor you, but Sam was a bit more skeptical. He knew that you were your own person, that he truly had no say over what you did, so all the hunter asked was for you to stay close to him; easy enough, right?

At first it was a little difficult seeing how there were many places you three had to go, and it was giving Sam some anxiety, not only that, but he was feeling a type of way that he couldn't put his finger on. He thought it may have been is psychic abilities, but one touch from you and his skin lit on fire, he instantly knew that he was horny. When he got into your shared hotel bed together, his crotch pressed into you full rump, it took every bone in his body to not jump you right then and there, to keep his wondering hands placed tightly in yours.

You could sense something was off with your lovely boyfriend when you had gotten into the Impala, and instead of Sam sitting up front with his brother, he chose to sit in the back with you, one hand on your thigh. You found it a bit strange, but nonetheless welcomed the out of the blue affection. But you didn't welcome it when all of you split to go investigate different parts of an abandoned house, Sam hot on your heels.

As you were turned around, you felt Sam wrap his arms around your waist, his head buried in between your shoulder and your neck.

"Sam?" You questioned, the energy detecting device in your hand slowly lowering. He dragged his large hand down your fluffy stomach, resting it over the zipper of your pants. "Sammy?" You asked again, but this time your voice was higher pitched. He always acted this way when he was needy, but it was never out in the open like this, not when somebody could easily walk in and see your compromising decision.

"I just— I just want you so bad. . . I don't—" Sam rambled, pulling down the zipper of your fly. "You couldn't wait to do this?" You breathed, your head slightly tipping back. "Why did you think I picked the farthest room in the house?" Of course he lead you hear with an ulterior motive, why wouldn't he? He was smart, strategical, and you'd be lying if you said that you were tempted to give in.

"Sam, we can't, I'm sorry." Your hands fell over his sneaky one's, pulling your zipper back up and placing his hands back on your waist. He audibly groaned when you turned around threw your arms around his neck. His pupils were blown out, his expression was that of a kicked puppy. "Baby, you know that I want this as much as you do, I always will, but not in public." You sighed, pushing some of his hair out of his face. "I know. . . Can I— can I just kiss you?" He asked, his hands sliding lower before resting on the swell of your ass.

"Dean's gonna be real mad that we haven't got anything," You teased running your fingers through his hair, but you showed no hostility as his lips ghosted over yours. "It'll only be for a couple of minutes. . ." He mumbled, pressing his lips onto yours. It felt so great to kiss you, like your touch was slowly extinguishing the fire that had been burning in his stomach for the past two days. He couldn't help that his palms gripped your ass aggressively, rubbing you crotches together. You moaned quietly into his mouth, Sam hiking up your thigh so that he could get a better angle. His growing erection was pressed against your heated cunt, the friction driving both of you nuts.

"You said only kissing. . ." You breathed against his lips, arousal becoming more prominent in your panties. He only groaned in reply, his head tipping back so that his neck was exposed to you. You attached your lips onto is most sensitive spot located just under his ear, Sam bucking his hips against you. You were muting yourself by making marks that wouldn't easily be seen, but Sam was forced to bite his lower lip to silence himself. The worst part about doing this in not only a potentially haunted house, was that it was extremely empty, sound basically bouncing off the walls. You knew Dean would never allow Sam to live this down if he were to catch the two of you.

The tingling sensation of an orgasm was barely in your grasp, but it was enough to detach yourself from his neck and collarbones, only placing a kiss there which your lipstick left a mark.

"Sam, ____?" Dean called out. "You guys got anything?" Your eyes widened as you pushed Sam off of you, giving him a look of apology. "Uhh— no, there's nothing here!" You shouted back, licking your sleeve and wiping the makeup off his lips. "Alright well I explored all of downstairs and most of the upstairs and I got nothin', so I think we're done here." His voice was a bit closer, but now by a lot. "Okay! So are we gonna go?" You asked, straightening up Sam as he stood there with a stupid smile on his face. "Yeah! I'm goin' to be in the Impala, so you guys better hurry up!" He concluded, his voice growing fainter as he walked back down the stairs."Sam," You growled, "I'm going to kill you." You glared, now wiping off your lips for any smeared product.

"I'm sorry honey, I got a bit carried away." He apologized, but he didn't even sound remotely sorry. You just scoffed, grabbing your things with the intention of leaving. "Sure." He only laughed, following close next to you. "Don't act like you didn't like it," He teased. You only rolled your eyes, but it provoked a small grin on your lips. "Well I hope this'll sedate you until we get back home." You poked, both of you now walking down the old stairs. "Maybe, but seeing how your butt is looking in those jeans, I may be tempted to do it again." You groaned, "I'm going with Dean next time."

As you guys were about to get into the car, your eyes landed on your lipstick mark that you had placed on the side of Sam's neck. You felt your stomach fall into your ass but it was already too late, Sam had gotten into the front seat of the car while you got into the back anxiously. You watched Dean look at Sam's neck before smirking wolfishly, making eye contact with you in the rearview window.

"Looks like you guys got a lot of things done." He said, his voice full of amusement.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

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jordanmoreau · 5 months

Text

I have you / Dean Winchester

→ dean winchester x reader, 1,4k words / fem reader

; in which certain feelings are made known, tongue tied and flushed cheeks♡

You watch absentmindedly from across the diner as Dean leans casually against the counter, a grin plastered across his face as he chats to the female server.

His T-shirt rides up ever so slightly as he leans forward and you cough awkwardly, shifting in your seat to face away fro him, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands as if to climb further inside it. Sam, who’s sitting opposite you with his nose buried in his notes, peers up to gives you a knowing look.

“He’s just being Dean,” he says calmly, nodding his head in his brothers direction. You freeze for a second, feeling caught. Sam doesn’t take his eyes off you for a prolonged second, wondering if he should reassure you some more but decides against it. He can tell you feel uncomfortable and so he moves his gaze from you.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate Sam’s attempt at comforting you. He had noticed your affections for Dean a while ago, watching the way you’d lean into him for comfort on every case or how you’d laugh at every stupid corny joke. You swallow, shaking your head slightly. It didn’t do you any good to keep pining after him.

It’s then that Dean returns to the table, a tiny piece of paper gripped in his hand. Your stomach does a painful flip when you notice it. The servers number? You look away again, focusing on the parking lot outside. Dean however takes notice of this, sliding into the seat next to Sam. Sam didn’t bother looking up at his brother and simply slid over a handful of pages, to which Dean rolled his eyes.

Dean instead turned his attention to you, mirroring you as he tries to figure out what you’re so intently looking at.

“What’re we looking at?” he says, startling you. He’s leant across the table, propped up by his elbows as he looks toward the parking lot and then back at you. He gives you a closed lipped smile when you don’t say anything.

“Y/N?” he murmurs softly. He’s close enough that you can smell his cologne. It overwhelms you a little and you sit back in your chair. His eyebrows knit together in confusion and he too sits back.

“Just thinking,” you reassure quietly, giving him your best “I'm okay” expression. It feels like a grimace. He searches your face for a moment and then nods, apparently accepting your words at face value.

—

The next evening, you find yourselves holed up in a motel, two rooms between three of you. You try not to look too alarmed at this at the front desk, the bags slung over your shoulders suddenly feeling like dead weights.

“Sam, can I bunk with you,” you ask instantly as you’re leaving the reception kiosk, hoping he can detect the pleading in your voice. Dean frowns at you, scratching his cheek with the back of his hand. Sam begins to agree when his brother interjects, stepping closer to you.

“What about me?” he pouts. Your heart pangs and you try to appear nonchalant, shrugging. He frowns again and Sam, who’s trailing behind you both, chucks the second set of keys at him. "Here,".

Dean catches it with his spare hand and mutters something you don't quite catch. Sam hums in agreement.

You decide to walk in front of the pair, needing to get in bed as soon as possible. Your whole body felt heavy and your feet dragged as you made your way down the hallway.

Dean follows you closely. It’s then that you recognize the right door number and plop your bags down on the door mat finally, groaning as your shoulder twinges.

“You okay?” Dean asks, his hand coming up to rest on your arm gently. You flinch for a second, not realising he was that close behind.

“Y-yeah,” you mumble, trying to ignore the way your arm felt hot under his touch. He rounds you now, standing opposite you at the doorway. He’s looking at you with an unreadable expression, lips pursed.

“Are you?” you ask him awkwardly. His stoic exterior breaks at that and he blinks at you, almost like he’s offended at the question.

“Am I okay?” he scoffs. He doesn’t answer you, unlocking the door instead. With ease, Dean pushes it open and gestures inside. You now blink back at him, not moving. "Ladies first," he deadpans.

“I’m sharing with Sam,” you say lamely. Dean ignores you, hiking your bags over his shoulder and entering the room. You glance back over your shoulder and see Sam entering the room on the far left. He turns back to close the door and shoots you an apologetic look. Traitor, you think.

You sigh, admitting defeat and walking inside the room, closing the door behind you. It’s nothing special, dank and small. Two beds are pushed against the far wall, sad beige comforters draped over cream white sheets. Dean is sat on the furthest one from you, jacket now discarded and hanging over the bathroom door. He's wearing a greyish blue shirt underneath, the short sleeves hugging his biceps tightly. It's your favorite on him. You shift from one foot to another, not knowing where to place your hands.

He’s placed your bags at the foot of your bed. You stand in the entrance for a moment too long and Dean notices. He always does.

“Are you going to sit down or am I gonna have to put you to bed myself?” he asks. You flush slightly, cheeks pink and move hurriedly towards your stuff, muttering a quick sorry as you do. Dean huffs loudly.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” he asks exasperatedly. His upper body is turned toward you. You don’t miss the note of worry in his tone and you feel guilty.

Usually you’d play along with playful banter or his flirty comments and he wasn’t used to your solemn expressions and your sad eyes. It made his heart twist in a way he wasn't used to. It was painful and he didn't like it.

“I’m just…”you struggle for the right words to say, feeling tongue tied. Admitting your feelings for him was just out of the question. God you wished Sam had roomed with you like you’d asked.

Dean waits patiently and when you don’t finish your sentence, he pushes himself off the bed. You’re perched on the end of the bed now and he crouches so that he’s almost eye level with you.

“Is it something I said, or did?” he questions you. Again, you feel guilty. You shake your head quickly, lips pressed together in a tight line. He makes a “hm” sound that sounds pained and you break.

“I’m just not feeling my best,” you lie, trying your best to meet his gaze as he listens. “It’s not you,”

Dean doesn’t respond for a moment and you think perhaps he’s bought what you’ve said. However he scoffs again. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

His tone is somewhat harsher than you think he means but his face is soft, lips slightly parted as he silently pleads with you. You fidget, not sure how to answer him. “You know I care about you,” he whispers. He’s closer then you had realized. So close that you swear he must hear your heartbeat quicken.

“Did you call that girl?” you ask weakly, taking a sharp intake of breath as you spoke. Dean stares at you blankly for a moment.

“Girl?” he says, bewildered. You nod slowly.

“The girl from the diner,” you say, eyes trained at the tv stand just past Dean’s head in your line of sight. You fidget again.

“Why would I call her? I have you,” he says. You can’t help but laugh at that, it sounding shrill and foreign given the mood. It echos against the silence of the room. It seemed just like Dean to lighten the mood by giving you some line, something to cheer you up. But when you finally look back at him his face is serious. There’s no sign of amusement.

“She gave you her number though, right?” your voice is barely audible. He hears you though and a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. He half rolls his eyes, clearly bemused.

“And that means I have to call her?” You look at him. So he wasn’t interested in her after all. Maybe Sam was right, he was just being Dean.

He cups your cheeks lightly with his callused hands all of a sudden and you feel like all the air leaves you. “I have you,” he repeats. You feel dizzy.

“Don’t I?” he asks softly. He searches your face as if worried you don’t agree. You notice the way his shoulders have tensed.

“Yes,” you breath. His shoulders relax and he flashes you the most Dean smile imaginable.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #sam winchester #supernatural au #supernatural x reader #dean winchester au #supernatural imagine #imagines #dean winchester imagine #jensen ackles

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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months

Text

Your Savior

Pairing: Cop!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: angst, being taken hostage at gunpoint, fearful of your life

Request by @jessicalynnann: What about cop/detective dean and him and the reader are in an established relationship and she owns a cute little bakery… well what if something happens like she gets attacked but doesn’t tell him and he finds out and is upset but comforts her…

Summary: You have a little bakery that is your pride and joy and a boyfriend on the police force who you're so proud of. He doesn't have a lot of dangerous cases until one day, three gunmen decide to take a bank hostage. A bank that is a couple of blocks from your bakery.

Square Filled: criminal au (2022) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You have to bake two dozen cupcakes, a two-tier cake, and a half dozen cookies before the end of the day and you’re working as hard as you can to get that done. You have flour on your apron and face, quiet music is playing from your speaker, and you have your hands elbow-deep in a bowl of batter.

The bell on the front door rings signalling someone walked into your bakery store, and you try to peek out of the room to see who it is.

“I’ll be right with you!” you call out. “Give me one minute!” The person doesn’t wait for you to come out to them so they walk into the kitchen. You’re about to yell at them when you see who it is. “Dean!”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grins.

Dean is a respected cop that everyone knows. He has been on the force since eighteen, and he’s only gone up from there. He walks behind the counter and kisses you even though some of the flour gets on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t stop by my girlfriend’s bakery?” You raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs. “No, I just wanted to say hi on my break.”

“Hi,” you smile. “Today has been hectic and I haven’t been open for nearly an hour. I just got this big order in for a birthday party this weekend. I’m trying to get as much as I can done so I don’t have to do it later.”

“Where’s Maria?”

“Coming in late. She has a sick kid at home, and her husband won’t be able to pick him up until after ten.”

“I was going to take you out for lunch but I can come here.”

“No, Maria can hold down the fort for an hour. I’d love to go out to lunch with you.”

“Okay.” He grabs one of the fresh muffins you made and takes out a ten dollar bill which he sets on the counter. “I’ll be back at twelve.”

“Hey, I don’t need your money.”

“It’s stealing. I’m a cop. I uphold the law,” he grins. He leans down and kisses you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too!”

Right before Maria shows up, your bakery filled with customers who are hungry for your sweets. With her at the register, you can focus on the big order which you’re almost done making the batter for. This whole bakery idea is all because of Dean. When you two were in high school, he encouraged you to continue bake. The school held a bunch of bake-offs which you participated in, and everyone fell in love with your food.

Starting junior year of high school, you started selling your baked goods for cheap until you got orders from practically everyone. His family owned a section of a building in the mall for their seasonal work, so they let you use it when they weren't. When Dean became a cop, you made cookies and cupcakes for all the officers in the office.

Being a cop is something you wished Dean didn’t pursue because it’s a very dangerous job, and you’re always worried that he’s not going to come home. He’s mostly a beat cop who does a lot of desk work and will occasionally do the big things like drug busts and hostage situations but those are far in between.

You don’t like it but you know he’s the best person for the job. He’s determined, he loves helping people who can’t help themselves, and he has a passion for the job. Just like you.

Noon comes faster than you think it does, and you start to clean your work space so that when you return from lunch, you can start with a clean area. Dean walks in through the front door just as you’re finishing up.

“Y/N, Dean is here,” Maria calls from the front.

“Coming!” You put the dirty rags in the small hamper and take off your dirty apron. There is some flour on your clothes but not enough to cause you to not go out in public. That’s the reality of being a baker. You have flour on everything you wear. “Where are we going?”

“Razzio’s.”

“Italian food. Yum,” you giggle. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Have fun!” Maria smiles.

Razzio’s is located in the same block as your bakery so you two walk over there. The owner knows Dean from when he stopped a robbery fromt aking place, so now he gets free meals and discounts when he comes in. Dean still pays full price for the food even though Razzio doesn’t always take it.

“Dean! Welcome in!” Razzio greets.

“Hey, Raz. Got a table for me?”

“Of course. Window okay?”

“Perfect.”

Dean likes to try everything on the menu so he has Razzio cook him up something new every week without ordering, and every week, you end up loving what he brings to the table. It’s not unusual for Razzio not to lay menus down for you.

“So, I was thinking this weekend, we can take some time off,” Dean says.

“Like a getaway?”

“Yeah. My family has a cabin up north that I’d love to take you to.”

“It will be nice to relax instead of worrying about what orders I need to prepare for next week.”

“See? Win-win.”

“You’re a dork,” you giggle and kiss him.

Razzio is perfect like always, and you walked away with a free meal. What Razzio doesn’t take, Dean leaves as a tip for him. You walk back to your bakery hand-in-hand with a full stomach and a happy heart. You reach his police car when the radio he has strapped to his shoulder crackles to life.

“Unit 27, I got a 10-31 in progress. All three subjects appear to be armed. Please respond.”

10-31. You’ve been with Dean long enough to know that it’s a robbery. Subjects being armed means they have guns.

Dean grabs the small radio and presses the button to respond back.

“Unit 27 responding.” He turns to you. “I gotta go.”

“Please be careful.”

“Always,” he winks.

He kisses you goodbye and hops into his police cruiser. You watch him peel out of the parking lot before going back inside. It seems like not a lot of people have come in while you were gone so nothing bad happened. You resume your baking in the kitchen and slide in two batches of cupcakes into the oven when the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Something isn’t right.

You walk carefully to the closed kitchen door and peer out of the small window to see three men with big guns inside the store. Maria and the other customers huddle together in fear. Are these the three subjects the same ones that the dispatcher was warning Dean about? How did they escape? Why did they come here? Are they looking to steal some food?

You take your phone out and dial Dean’s personal cell and place it to your ear. Pick up, Dean, pick up. Come on, pick up. You get his voicemail because he’s probably busy with the situation he got called away on.

“Dean, I need you here. There are three men with big guns in the bakery. Please hurry. They might be--”

“Hey!”

You look up and lock eyes with one of the suspects. You quickly hang up and duck down but he has already seen you. The man storms into the kitchen and grabs your arm tightly. You’re thrown off balance that your phone is dropped when he drags you out where everyone else is. You don’t struggle to get away in fear of being shot and let them tie you up.

“Are you the owner?” the leader asks. You nod because you have tape over your mouth. “Where’s the money?” You shake your head and he cocks his weapon. “Where’s the fucking money?!”

You mumble something underneath the tape, and one of the them rips it off you.

“Fuck,” you hiss at the pain. “I don’t have a lot of money. You’re wasting your time here.”

“No, you see, I know you have money. I see you leave this store every day with a bag full of it. Where is it?”

“Not here.”

Like hell you’re going to tell them there is a big safe hidden behind a picture frame in the abc with a bunch of cash stored there. You have most of the cash in the bank but you keep a chunk of it here for emergencies only. You’re not going to give them your hard earned money.

“Okay.” The leader points his gun at you and Maria cries where she sits. “You have until the count of three to tell me where the money is or I blow your fucking head off. Deal?”

The fear has sunk in and you start crying not only for you but for everyone else here. MAria is such a good mother and wife, she doesn’t deserve to be killed. Every customer in here has a life, someone they go home to. You cna’t do that to them. You have no idea if Dean got your message so you can’t rely on him to be here and save you.

“One.”

You look up to answer when you spot someone moving behind him. You look and see Dean’s beautiful green eyes looking into yours. He has four other cops with him that snuck in through the back.

“Two.”

He puts a finger to his mouth to tell you to keep quiet, and you look back at the man who is threatening you with a gun.

“Thr--”

“Wait! I’ll tell you!” you gasp.

“I’m waiting.”

“Okay. If I tell you, you let them go. They have nothing to do with this,” you gesture to the other hostages.

“We’ll see. Where’s the fucking money?”

You look behind the three gunmen and notice Dean and the other cops come out quietly with their guns out.

“Right behind you.”

The leader turns right into the barrel of Dean’s gun. He goes to raise his own to fight but notices the other four cops with guns on them. They are outnumbered and they don’t want to die.

“Man, you three were hard to catch. Why’d you come here?” Dean chuckles. “Lower your weapons. All of you. Turn around with hands behind your backs.”

The three men do as they’re told, and three officers put them in handcuffs. Another ones goes over to the hostages and starts to get the out of their ties while Dean rushes over to you.

“Oh, my God, Dean,” you cry.

“I’m right here, baby. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Once free, you get up and run into his arms. You break down crying and he smoothes down your hair in comfort. “I’m right here. You’re okay now.”

One of the cops calls for backup so that the gunmen are taken away in three separate cars. Paramedics come to check everyone out, and the money that the gunmen took is being processed to return back to its owners.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Dean asks.

“Yeah. They didn’t hurt us. Well, one of them grabbed my arm hard but I don’t think it’s enough to form a bruise. I didn’t think you got my message. I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I will always come. I will always be here to protect you,” he promises.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #spn #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months

Text

Imagine...Going Against Dean’s Orders

Pairing: Detective!Dean x Detective!reader

______

“Just what exactly was that?” asked Dean as he stood up.

“Me stopping the guy about to shoot you? You’re welcome by the way,” you said. Dean scoffed and shook his head.

“I told you to cover the back. You were out of line.”

“I saw him-”

“You let the main suspect get away. This guy is a nobody. We could have had our guy and been done with it but you wanted to play hero,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Freaking junior detectives. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

“I have an obligation-”

“To uphold the law, Detective Y/L/N. You failed in doing that tonight,” he said.

“Fuck you, Winchester,” you said. You headed outside, kicking the car tire, Dean exiting with your other suspect a minute later. He paused as he walked before approaching the car and sitting the man in the backseat. Dean sighed as he shut the door, looking over the roof of the car at you.

“You didn’t mention that you got the other suspect.”

“You were too busy yelling at me,” you said, turning your back towards him. “I’m an idiot rookie that doesn’t know what they’re doing apparently.”

“Well I’m an idiot senior detective that didn’t want his girlfriend to get hurt,” he said. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I thought you were too concerned for me and didn’t do the job.”

“I’ll do the job, Dean. But I’ll also save your ass if I have to. Honestly, I don’t know which one of those is going to be the priority all the time,” you said. There were a few footsteps and you turned away, Dean leaning back against the car.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s fine. Don’t yell at me for stuff like that again though,” you said. “You want to insult my cooking, that’s fine but don’t tell me I’m bad at this.”

“Okay,” he said. He rested his chin on your shoulder and gave you a hug from behind. “Want to go book these guys and then head home?”

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here, Dean.”

_________

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean x #dean winchester #imagin

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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

Text

— DESIRE (THE WANTON SONG)

SUMMARY : dean looks delicious in a suit, that’s it.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : castiel, jack kline

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, p in v, unprotected sex (21 years of prison), car sex, smut, teasing, funnies (but maybe that’s the coffee talking)

WORD COUNT : 2.8k

A/N : led zeppelin song title. y’all… YALL! Dean’s so hot and I actually had coffee and so that’s why I’m… you know, imagine that this is really, really quickly spoken in your head :D XXXXXX

Was anyone really going to lie or hide the truth about how absolutely ravishing Dean looked in suits?

One thing Y/n knew was that she wouldn't be making that mistake. The only problem with that was that Cas and Jack decided to join them while Sam stayed at the Bunker recovering from a stomach bug with Eileen at his side.

Should she feel bad for how turned on she was?

He was just… existing.

Still, he must know what he’s doing. Placing his hand on her thigh, mindlessly brushing his fingers along the inside as he drove. And he sang. He was singing, playfully. Making her laugh.

And every time she laughed, he’d squeeze her thigh, and grin at her boyishly. She’d bite her lip, unable to resist his happiness. When they stopped at a red light or a stop sign, he’d lean over, and kiss her cheek, then he’d murmur something sweet into her ear. Her heart would flutter, her breath would hitch, and then he'd press one soft kiss to her lips.

If Cas and Jack hadn’t been in the back seat, she would have grabbed Dean by his tie and pulled him on top of her. That would be dangerous—considering that he’s driving—but, hey, it’s just a daydream.

She just wanted him, everywhere, like… all over her body. His lips and his hands. His body above hers and his skin moving against hers. God… it was worse than normal, her desire for him.

He was just so… irresistible. Not just because of how insanely attractive he is. It’s a combination of everything that makes him who he is. Adorable. Kind. Selfless. Brave. Funny. Smart. The list was endless, but every little thing was there, blooming deep in her heart, weaved intricately into her soul, growing hot like a star. At the end of it all, at the farthest edge of everything that she was, it was love built entirely of Dean.

Her mind was elsewhere. She started to lag behind as they walked into the police station and Dean weaved his fingers through hers to keep her in pace with him. She subtly checked Dean out from behind, broad shoulders, firm ass, hot… all over. She had to resist slapping his ass and grinned to herself at the thought.

Cas went ahead and started to talk to one of the detectives on the case while Jack looked around aimlessly. Dean pulled her hand to stop her from joining the angel and nephilim. He leaned forward, his nose brushing against her cheek, his lips ghosting over her earlobe, warm breath hitting her neck.

“You okay?” He asked, pulling away slightly, and looked into her eyes. He held her jaw tenderly and his thumb brushed along her bottom lip, causing her to inhale sharply. A spark from his hand on her mouth made heat rise up her face, but she nodded anyway. “You sure? You’ve been quiet, spacey,” he murmured, leaning forward to brush his lips against her.

“I’m okay,” she whispered against his mouth. Dean placed a chaste kiss on her lips and kissed her cheek afterwards.

“Okay,” he conceded hesitantly, circling his arm around her waist. Dean lead the way to where Cas and Jack were waiting patiently, having quiet conversation with each other. Jack looked confused at whatever Cas was trying to explain to him while Cas looked adorably exasperated. “Let’s go,” Dean smiled at the two of them, walking to where the officers placed the woman they’d just arrested.

“Actually,” Cas stopped Dean with a hand on his chest. Dean lifted a brow and glanced down at Cas’ hand. “This would be a great opportunity for Jack to learn how to properly interrogate witnesses on cases. You two should take a look at the footage from the mini-mart,” Cas suggested firmly, but he waited for Dean’s approval anyway.

Dean’s lips parted, he looked down her before looking back at Cas. He crossed his arms over his chest and it was oddly arousing. “You sure it’s not ‘cause you suck at using technology,” Dean teased with a smirk.

The deadpan expression on Cas’ face made it funnier, somehow. He sighed and stepped closer to Dean, looking down at both their shiny black shoes. “I’m being serious, Dean,” Cas muttered, but Dean had a smug smile on his face that she knew Cas wouldn’t let slide when he looked up into green eyes. “Besides, you couldn’t figure out how to get Netflix to play on the television, Y/n had to do it.”

Dean might have actually gotten offended. He shut his mouth, a firm line of his lips made those adorable little dimples of his to appear at the upper corners of his mouth. She stifled a laugh, and looked down at her heels, but Dean noticed anyway. Jack was the only one looking away, his gaze fixed across the room where the vending machine was.

“Agents,” one of the detectives called from the interrogation room, staring at the four of them.

“Whatever,” Dean murmured, turning away from them. He left her there with their friends. She grinned up at Cas and he failed to resist a smile. Blue eyes looked down while she patted his chest as a goodbye before she jogged to catch up with Dean.

“So,” she tried breaking the ice, hooking her arm around his as they walked to the room where they could watch the footage, “wanna place a bet?” Dean grunted in response, to which she took as a yes. “100 bucks, it’s a shifter,” she offered, letting go of his arm when he opened the door for her to enter first.

“If it’s anything but a shifter… I get to call the shots on everything we do together for six months,” he said distractedly, beelining to the nearest computer.

“Uh, no,” she laughed, “one month.” Dean glanced at her, it wasn’t anger, but there was something fiery in those forest greens of his that made her pussy clench around nothing. Her breath hitched, but she hid it with a sniffle.

“Four months.” There was a finality to his words that made her shiver. She couldn’t disagree, and anyway, Dean’s ideas were never awful. Dean leaned over the table, and started to type away skillfully at the keyboard, giving her time to consider his compromise, before he pulled the video footage up.

Had he not been waiting for the deal to be sealed with her agreement, she would have dwelled on the wave of arousal flooding between her legs at the sight of him proving Cas wrong about his ability to understand technology.

She stepped closer to Dean, sitting on the table—very close to him.“Cheater,” she smiled playfully, he knew she’d never fold. Dean looked up at her, one hand on the keyboard, the other on the mouse. “Deal,” she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

Dean immediately let go of the keyboard and mouse to step between her legs and kiss her hard. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her to the edge of the table, and tangled his fingers in her hair. She moaned into his mouth, lewdly brushing her tongue against his when he pushed into her mouth. With a final, hot, firm suck of her tongue, he pulled away breathlessly with a rosy tint on his cheeks.

She blinked the daze of his hearty lips away, and smiled dreamily, swinging her feet, her heels slipping off her feet slightly as she watched him work. She needed to fuck him, but she forced herself to look away from the pinched concentration of his brows, and the way he chewed on his lip.

She analysed the video with Dean a few times before switching to other cameras around and within the mini-mart. A few people came in and out, no one remotely suspicious or dangerous, nothing supernatural about them either.

“I don’t see anything,” Dean muttered, replaying the last video of the inside of the store. He watched it again for good measure. It showed the woman the detectives arrested serving herself a blue raspberry slushie from the machine with a woman standing next to her, asking for a taste.

She leaned the cup over to her lover, or friend, or whatever she was meant to be. She took a sip and they walked together to the register, the man barely paid any attention to them as they spoke.

“Right there, look,” she told him, Dean raised a brow and rewinded the video. She mischievously ducked under his arms, and placed her hand over his on the mouse, bending over the desk like he was doing so her ass brushed against his crotch. Dean grunted softly, moving away slightly with his hands on her hips.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he whispered, squeezing her hip. She tried to remain composed, as much as she wanted to keep teasing and possibly do more, she genuinely found something.

Ignoring the throb in her clit, she teasingly asked, “uh, hello?” Dean’s hands flexed on her hip and then he pressed himself against her ass, to see what she saw. “You win the bet, it’s a siren,” she pointed out, pausing on the reflection of the monster’s terrifying face.

“Okay,” Dean whispered, letting her stand straight. “At least if it gets to me or you, it’s toxin won’t work,” he reassured her, kissing the top of her head.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve always been perfect to me, the one person I could lean on, the one person I knew would never lie to me, or do what Sam did… you’re-”

“Reliable, boring,” she finished for him, crossing her arms insecurely.

“Kind, trustworthy, and good,” he corrected firmly, “you still are, there’s nothing I’m keeping inside, nothing… bad… because you’ve never failed me.” She turned to face him, stomach fluttering, flustered by his steadfast reasonings.

“I can be stubborn and repetitive,” she reminded him, they’ve been angry at each other a few times in the past. Frustrated is the more correct word for it than angry. She didn’t want him to be wrong, or to end up making him feel bad if it worked on either of them.

“Caring and empathetic,” he corrected again, his hands sliding into the pockets of his black slacks. He stepped close to her and narrowed his eyes at her self-deprecating words. Oh, wow, she felt small, and hot, and wet. “Stop arguing with me, I’m older than you. That makes me always right,” he tried to lighten the mood, she smiled softly at him, and laughed.

“You’re right, I don’t think it’s toxin will work,” she agreed despite her doubts. Dean smiled, but tilted his head inquisitively. “You trusted it… or whatever… because it gave you the one thing you wanted most, a family, but now, you’ve got most of what you wanted back then, Sam’s not doin-”

“I don’t pay for therapy sessions, sweetheart,” he dismissed bashfully, slipping his hands out of his slacks to reach out for her hips and tug her towards him.

“Uh, well… there’s always sex,” she suggested seductively, locking her fingers together behind his neck. Dean leaned forward, his nose brushed against hers, and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Sex is pleasure, not business, sweetheart,” he murmured. She felt one of his hands fall from her hip, then she felt a rough, arousing spank on her ass. She yelped while he laughed and lifted her back up on the table. “I love you, you know that?” He asked softly, pressing kisses along her jawline.

“Yes,” she whispered, hooking her fingers on his belt loops to tug him closer between her legs. She wiggled around and got the pencil skirt high enough to let her spread her legs wider for him. Dean finally kissed her, his fingers slowly ghosting along the inside of her thighs, moving higher.

She moaned against his mouth, impatiently waiting for him to touch her where she needed him most. Dean’s kiss became steamier, he pressed closer into her mouth, tongue slowly gliding over hers.

“Can you feel how wet I am for you?” She mumbled when he panted for breath against her mouth. His fingers finally grazed her wet heat and he groaned, roughly burying a hand in her hair. He tugged at the soft locks of her hair and drew circles around her entrance before sliding his fingers up to her clit.

“We need to ditch Cas and Jack,” Dean murmured desperately, pulling his hand out from between her legs much to her dismay. Dean kissed her forehead softly.

“That’s mean,” she pouted jokingly, leaning back with her hands flat on the table.

“Okay, maybe I won’t ditch them, but… I’ll drop them off at the motel, there’s a place on the way,” he informed her, then sucked his fingers clean of her wetness.

“God, you look fuckable,” she giggled, gazing at him flirtatiously.

He flushed red—well, redder. “What?”

“It’s not a secret.” She shrugged casually, playing with his bright red tie. It only made him look hotter. Wickedly so.

“What isn’t?”

“That you look hot in suits,” she laughed, pulling his tie to bring him down for a quick kiss to emphasise her feelings.

“Really? You think so?” He laughed softly against her lips.

“Everyone knows that.”

“I don’t care about everyone, I’m asking about you.” He bit his lip, amused, and squeezed her thighs.

“Yes.”

“I’m ditching them, they’ve got wings,” Dean gave in. He took her hand, pulling her off the table. She quickly fixed her heels and skirt, following him as a zap of excitement coiled up her spine.

“Let me text them first!”

“Seriously? Here?” She laughed, unbuttoning her shirt as fast as she could while Dean fumbled and removed his belt. Dean stared up at her, smiling from ear to ear, and she rolled her eyes at him halfheartedly.

“It’s an abandoned mall’s parking lot,” he reasoned, lifting his hips up to shove his boxers and slacks down all at once. “No one’s finding us here,” he reassured her, hands impatiently roaming up her thighs to lift the tight pencil skirt.

“Like you care,” she teased him, moving forward on her knees. The cotton blanket he placed covered the leather booth-seat, silencing the typical squeak of leather beneath them. Dean spluttered and shrugged indifferently, pulling her shirt out of her skirt to shove his hands inside her bra, and pulled down so her breasts spilled out. She held the door of the Impala, squeezing hard beside his head, and started to lower herself down on him with her fingers curled around his cock.

Dean’s mouth fell open, and he closed his eyes, moaning her name softly. Her pussy clenched around him as she gazed down at his face, her heart stuttering in her chest. His eyes fluttered open, and he bit his plump lip, smirking at her—like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Fuck,” she shuddered. Dean brought her closer, depositing wet kisses along her sternum and cleavage, all the while he gazed up at her from beneath his lashes. She could feel herself get wet around him, getting tighter, her breath hitching as she sank down lower and lower, taking every inch of him.

“You’re hot, too,” he whispered, “in heels, or naked, or in my bed, or… in my car, especially on my dick.” Dean grinned playfully, and cupped her breast, squeezing gently, his calloused palm created delicious friction against her nipple. “You make sexy faces, like the one I just made-”

“Oh, shut up,” she laughed, circling her hips once she’d sunk all the way down on his cock, his blunt fingernails digging into the flesh of her thigh.

“Really?” He teased breathlessly, bringing his two hands to her ass to squeeze and then slap roughly. She gasped and dropped her forehead on his, circling her hips excruciatingly slow. “I thought you liked it when I told you dirty stuff when we have sex. You know… like how badly I wanna cum when I see you every morning? It’s true, by the way,” he teased quietly, kissing her jaw, and bucked up into her pussy when she pushed herself up with her hands pressed against the window of the Impala.

“Drives you crazy, doesn’t it?” He asked, brushing her hair away from her face lovingly. “Sure drives me crazy. Ya know… your hot face, the… pretty sounds you make—all of you. The way you taste… all of you. The smell of your skin and your hair. All the dirty things you say.” She moaned softly, and Dean scooted up slightly, panting against her lips as she started to lift herself up and down again on his lap. “You have no idea how much I love you,” he whispered, his hands travelling along her sides.

“You have no idea how much I love you, Dean,” she laughed softly, cupping his cheeks. She tilted his head up and kissed him long, lips pressed firmly against his to pour every ounce of tenderness and love that flowered inside her heart, connecting the strands of her soul to his, and fusing her burning adoration for him like two colliding stars.

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zepskies · 7 months

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 6

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort

Part 6: “Just Casual”

A few days after the house fire that claimed the life of Paul Richardson, father of two, Chief Bobby Singer was joined in his office by Detectives Winchester and Novak, along with his resident Squad Captain and Truck Lieutenant, Benny and Dean.

“The Richardson fire has officially been determined an arson,” Bobby revealed.

“They found a time-delay incendiary device hidden in the attic. No fingerprints. But that’s not even the odd thing,” he said. “The medical examiner found a brand mark on his wrist that was inconsistent with his other burns. Which is why you’re here, I reckon.”

Bobby directed his gaze at both John and Cas, who didn’t look surprised to hear this news.

Dean raised a brow. His gaze shifted to his father, but John only met his stare for a moment before he answered Bobby’s unspoken question.

“We’ve been investigating a series of murders in the area over the past six months,” John said. “Each victim died in their home, with the same brand somewhere on their body. Typically the wrist, or the back of the neck.”

“So we officially have a serial killer turned arsonist on our hands,” Bobby concluded. His attention shifted to Benny and Dean. “Keep this close to the vest, but keep your eyes open.”

“Arsonists are hard to catch,” Dean said, looking to the detectives. “What do you know about this guy?”

Cas glanced at John. The older man could feel his stare, but had to ignore it for now.

“Not much as of yet,” John said. “Right now he’s a coil of smoke, if you’ll pardon the phrase. Our psychologist says he’s most likely a white male, statistically speaking. College educated, or at the very least intelligent, efficient, and so far, he thinks every step through. Like he said, no prints. But the brand is a message.”

“To who, and why, is what we’ve been trying to figure out,” Cas added. “We think that’s the key to pinpointing a suspect.”

“Really,” Dean said. He raised a brow and crossed his arms. “Six months, and that’s all you’ve got?”

“Dean,” John started, but the Lieutenant shook his head.

“Come on, Dad. I know you. Who is this guy?”

“Dean, this is the best I can give you right now, but believe me, we’re working on it,” John said, that tone that boded no further argument.

Bullshit, Dean wanted to shoot back. But he held his tongue for now. He knew that John wouldn’t budge. Instinct still told Dean that his father was holding something back though.

As the men filtered out of Bobby’s office, Dean held Cas back for a moment.

“Watch the old man’s back, all right,” Dean said. “He’s got a penchant for being reckless.”

Cas gave him a wry, pointed look. “I’m doing my best. Winchesters are a stubborn lot.”

Dean smirked and walked out with him. Meg was headed inside, having just come in from an ambulance call. She smiled when she saw her boyfriend.

“Hey, lover,” she greeted. And she smacked his ass in front of God and the entire Rescue Squad, who liked to sit outside the firehouse and play cards at their table.

Ramirez and the others smirked and called out their customary whoops and cat calls. Dean smirked at the actual blushing discomfort that tightened up Cas’s face and shoulders.

“Dinner tonight at Casablanca’s, right?” Meg asked, unfazed by the catcalling peanut gallery.

“Right,” Cas said stiffly. But he still brushed her cheek with his thumb in affection. “See you later.”

“Yep,” she nodded, though she shot Dean a wry brow. “What? I stole your boyfriend. Get over it.”

She continued on her path back inside the firehouse, leaving Dean and Cas to stare after her in annoyance and begrudging fondness, respectively.

Dean turned to his friend and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good luck and Godspeed, my friend. That woman’s fuckin’ terrifying.”

Cas gave him a lazy salute as he walked away. He found that John had already started up their police car. He was in the driver’s seat, as always, with a hand resting casually on the steering wheel.

Dean typically sat in much the same way. Cas thought both men were more comfortable in a car than anywhere else in life. Except, maybe, the precinct and the firehouse.

Cas slid into the passenger seat and gave his partner a knowing look.

“I still think you should tell Sam and Dean what’s really happening here,” he said.

John looked over at him with an almost unreadable expression. But they had been partners for a few years now; long enough for Cas to get a read on the older veteran.

“I understand why you want to keep them out of this, but now this guy is starting fires. Here, in Dean’s district,” Cas pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be safer for him if he had clearer eyes walking into the next one?”

If, God forbid, something should go wrong on the next call Dean responded to, John would never forgive himself. Both he and Cas knew this, but John never answered his partner’s question. He didn’t want his sons getting their noses in this just yet, even if it meant the worry he saw in Dean’s eyes.

So he put the car in “drive” and peeled away from the firehouse.

Trying to match your schedule with Dean’s was a challenge you two were trying to figure out. Though you’d fallen into a pattern of talking on the phone to fill the void when you two couldn’t meet.

Even after almost two more weeks and a third date, you were pleasantly surprised that you and Dean still had plenty to talk about. You told him more about your childhood with your grandparents, while he told you funny stories about him and Sam growing up with their dad, though he was often gone while working on cases.

It was family friend and Fire Chief, Bobby Singer who looked after them whenever John couldn’t, or his old partner Jody Mills, or even Ellen Harvelle, owner of the Roadhouse.

The more you learned about Dean, the more invested you became. And he listened to you when you went on tangents about new recipes you wanted to try out (as long as he got to be your official Taste Tester).

You two argued, playfully and fervently, about music. And you’d been creating a list of old shows the other hadn’t seen, but absolutely needed to.

Dean had suggested Dukes of Hazzard, for example, while you suggested Smallville. You each only agreed to put up with this list if you two watched it together. (Needless to say, there would be some marathon binge watching in your future.)

You particularly took notice though, when Dean invited you to join him at the Roadhouse to meet Cas, one of his best friends, and his girlfriend Meg. You’d invited Andréa to come along, and even Dean’s friend Benny, who she’d also been seeing ever since that night at the Roadhouse.

Apparently, the couple had their own plans.

You tried not to feel some type of way about her brush-off, but your friend had been increasingly distant since she met Benny Lafitte. However, you supposed you couldn’t judge. You hadn’t been calling her as much either, ever since you met Dean.

You knew that if you kept dating him, some adjustments would have to come in your life. You also promised yourself that you’d never be someone who forgot your friends for a man…even for a man like Dean Winchester.

Tonight, however, you’d come directly from work to meet him at the bar. It made more sense than to make him come pick you up from your house, so you sat with a ginger ale while you waited. He’d promised you via text that he was on the way, just stuck in traffic.

Okay, drive safe. 😘 Don’t speed, please.

You knew how he liked floor the Impala with that damn lead foot of his.

No promises. 🏎️

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you were smiling unconsciously as you read his reply.

You were soon knocked out of your thoughts when a smooth voice said your name. You looked up and to your right, and there stood a familiar face. The man greeted you with an easy smile as he sat down next to you.

“I thought that was you,” he said. He reached out his hand and re-introduced himself. “Gordon Walker. Not sure if you remember me.”

“Oh, yes! Of course I do, Gordon,” you smiled and shook his hand.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said. His dark eyes subtly took you in from head to toe in your skirt, heels, and blouse. “Though I’ve gotta admit, I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Ah, right,” you said. “Well—”

Before you could explain, Gordon held up a finger as he noticed your drink of choice.

“Oh, wait a sec. Let me get you something stronger than soda,” he said. He started to flag down Jo, but you shook your head and made a cutting motion with your hand.

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant.

It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush. You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh. Your hand clenched on the counter.

While your brain scrambled to figure out a response that would successfully remove it (without snapping rudely like you were itching to), a hand slipped along your lower back.

You jolted a bit in your seat with a flare of unease, until you turned your head and found Dean.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, and dropped a kiss at your hairline. He also clapped a heavy hand on Gordon’s shoulder and squeezed. The other man graciously got the hint and leaned back, withdrawing his hand from your thigh.

“Hi,” you said, finally able to breathe a bit easier. You gave Dean a smile, and he returned it.

He looked over at his friend with a sharper smile. “Hey, Gord. How’s your night goin’?”

“Good.” Gordon nodded, now with a knowing gleam in his eye. “Though I’m sure your night’s gonna go better.”

You weren’t sure how to take that remark, considering the way Dean reacted with a tighter expression and pursed lips. Then, they flickered at a smile.

“Well, we’re meeting up with Meg and Cas in a minute. You should join us,” Dean said. Even though his tone wasn’t so very inviting. The two men seemed to have a wordless conversation between the lines that you couldn’t decipher.

Gordon shook his head, but raised his drink. “No worries, you guys hang. I’m leaving in a few.”

“All right. Let us know if you change your mind,” Dean said. He thumped Gordon once more on the back, more friendly this time.

Dean’s other hand slipped around your waist. He tapped you on the side.

“Come on, I’ve got us a table. It’s quieter,” he said.

You nodded and slid out of your seat. You offered Gordon a polite smile, even if you’d rather not.

“Have a good night,” you said.

The other man’s smile was less flirtatious and more polite this time as well.

“You too,” he said.

Dean helped you onto your feet, like the gentleman he was, and he continued to lead you away from the bar with a hand on the small of your back. You instinctively pressed against his side to squeeze past the throng of patrons.

When you reached a high-top table in the corner, he pulled out your chair and held your hand as you climbed up in your skirt. You thanked him with a more genuine smile. Though once he was seated next to you, you leaned towards him and laid a hand on his arm, which rested on the table.

“I tried to tell him I was waiting for you. He took me by surprise,” you whispered.

Dean’s brows rose, but his face soon evened out with a smile. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t worry about it. He didn’t know about us,” he said. “He was shootin’ his shot…a bit aggressively. Sorry about that.”

“Oh…it’s okay. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you replied. Though butterflies ran through your belly when you considered what us meant.

You noted his frown at what you’d said though, and so you aimed to change the subject.

“But Cas and Meg know, right?” you asked.

Dean nodded. His frown started to lift. “Yeah. Cas is one of my best friends. Meg is…well. She’s the little sister I wish I didn’t have.”

You shook your head in amusement. Then you let out a squeal as Dean hooked a foot around the leg of your chair and brought you closer. He stopped you from becoming too unbalanced by wrapping an arm around your waist. You clenched your hands into the open panels of his plaid shirt, and his charming smile greeted you.

“Hi,” he said.

You laughed. “Yeah, you mentioned that earlier.”

“Well, I’m doing it right this time,” he said. And he dipped down for a lingering kiss.

Across the bar was Jo Harvelle, doing her job behind the counter. She poured five shots in succession and doled them out to a party of frat bros without even looking.

Her eyes were drawn to the back corner of the bar, where you and Dean sat closely together, exchanging whispers and the occasional steamy kiss.

“Mind your business,” came Ellen’s whisper in her ear.

Jo whipped her head to glare softly at her mother, but she saw Ellen’s point. It was both obvious and pathetic of her to stare.

Despite the unease making her feel a bit sick to her stomach, Jo went over to Gordon down at the end. His sympathetic smile bothered her; she knew then she hadn’t just been caught by her mother.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” he remarked.

“What?” Jo said. She began wiping down his area of the counter. “Would it kill you to keep it in the glass?”

Gordon gave her an amused look as he sat back in his seat. His tumbler of whiskey was drained.

“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” he said.

Both of them knew he wasn’t apologizing for the spill.

Jo’s brows knitted together, mostly in annoyance. “Again, for what?”

“I know it’s gotta be hard to see him actually moving on,” he replied.

Her lips pursed, and her eyes darted to the back of the room again. She stared for a moment at the side of your face.

“Knowing him, whatever it is won’t last,” she muttered.

Gordon hissed at the "burn," with a deep chuckle. She knew her words weren’t kind, but it was how she felt.

“That may be,” he allowed. “But he’s not just chasing tail anymore. That’s what scares you.”

Gordon dropped a nice tip for her next to his glass. He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and left Jo with the churning in her gut.

Cas and Meg finally arrived a few minutes later.

Dean knew you’d been to the Roadhouse before, but this was different. You were meeting some of his friends, and he realized how much he wanted you to. He felt…comfortable around you. And he wanted his friends to know you, and to like you.

“As you know, Meg’s our Paramedic in Charge over at 25,” he began, gesturing at the woman as she got settled in her seat.

You admired her long brown hair, tall boots, and black leather jacket. She seemed to ooze confidence and dark charisma as she tossed you a smirk.

“Guilty,” she said.

You smiled back. Dean gestured at her boyfriend next, clad in a beige trench coat, slacks, and blazer.

“And Cas, who bravely suffers being my dad’s partner on the job.”

Cas nodded wryly at the introduction. His dark hair and blue eyes were striking, you could admit. His tie was loose and slightly rumpled. Along with the stubble coating his face, he was handsome, if a bit scruffy. It was hard for you to believe he’d earned the top scores his year in the Police Academy, but you supposed that looks could be deceiving.

“What’s that like?” you asked with a smirk. “From what I’ve heard about John Winchester, he sounds like he’s a bit of a hard-ass.”

Dean barked with a dry laugh. “An understatement.”

“He has a crab-like shell,” Cas agreed. “But he has a soft center where it counts, not unlike his sons.”

You turned to Dean with a more teasing smile. “Aww…”

He rolled his eyes, even though his arm, which had been draped across the back your chair, now dropped to curl around your waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Columbo,” he remarked at his blue-eyed friend.

Always had to get the last dig in, it seemed, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little along with Meg at Cas’s expense.

“You guys all seem really close,” you said. It was nice for you to see.

Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. Or rather, like it was commonplace.

“Well, maybe family ain’t just about blood,” he said.

Meg rolled her eyes. “Ugh. What a friggin’ sap.”

“You love it,” Dean grinned. She smiled, begrudgingly.

Family ain’t just about blood.

You liked that sentiment as well. It seemed to be true here.

Even Ellen Harvelle treated Dean like a son when she came over to greet your table. She kissed his cheek and gave Meg and Cas’s shoulders a squeeze. Even you got a warm hand on your shoulder when she introduced herself.

“Welcome, hun. I understand it’s not your first time here, but if you got any questions on the menu, you let me know,” she said.

Dean shot you a conspiratorial smile, and it got you wondering what he was about to do.

“I mean, I don’t know why you don’t put the order in for chili fries the second you see me come through the door,” he teased. “Come on, Ellen. How long’ve I been coming here? Since before I had a license?”

Ellen narrowed her eyes and flicked the side of Dean’s head, regardless of his flinching protest.

“Don’t you go sayin’ that so damn loud,” she reproached. “You never drank underage at my bar.”

His eyes averted with a smile, in a way that told you Ellen was a damn liar. You bit your lip to try and hide your smile.

“Anyway, I’ll get your damn fries—”

“And a beer,” Dean interjected. She rolled her eyes.

“And a beer. Four?” she pointed at the rest of you, and you, Cas, and Meg nodded in agreement.

“All right, four beers. Anything else, darlin’?” She looked at you with a mother’s charm.

You looked up from the menu and unconsciously smiled.

“Um, sure. Can I get the chicken sandwich?”

She patted your shoulder. “You sure can.”

Ellen then took the rest of their orders without writing a thing down. You were impressed by her memory. At the end though, Dean didn’t let her go without a hand on her arm.

“Thanks, Ellen,” he said with a more sincere smile.

“A-huh,” she replied, with all due sarcasm. But there was a fondness in her eyes that was hard to miss when she playfully grabbed the back of his neck. “Knucklehead.”

A giggle escaped you, and Ellen tossed you a wink before she went to put in the orders and get the drinks.

Conversation flowed easier when the alcohol came. One beer became two, and even three (four, for Meg). By then, you were sure it was one beer too many for yourself, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out. You were mostly listening to the three of them bounce back and forth between reminiscing with old stories and roasting one another mercilessly.

It was hilarious and entertaining, but you were trying not to get caught in the crosshairs of the volleying. Inevitably though, Meg’s attention turned to you with a certain sly smile.

“You must be real special,” she remarked, gesturing at Dean. “He usually doesn’t bring his girls around here, where he actually likes to hang out. Guess that’d mean he’d have to see ‘em again with the lights on.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Meg,” Dean’s voice cut like a warning.

Your eyes widened as you took in the change, his deeper voice, his more serious gaze, versus Meg’s nonchalance. Even Cas gave her a chiding look.

“Not sure I want to know what that means,” you tried to joke.

But you could guess. It was fairly obvious.

You glanced over at Dean, whose lips pursed. Before either of you could say anything more, Meg chimed in.

“Oooh, is this gonna be your first fight?” she teased.

Dean’s brows furrowed with a glare. “That’s enough.”

“And that’s our cue,” Cas nodded. He’d already slipped out his wallet as soon as his girlfriend started talking. He left a generous few bills to cover their half of the night, plus tip, and got up out of his seat. He claimed his coat and then encouraged Meg off her chair.

“What? I’m not done with my beer,” she protested.

“I think you are,” Cas said.

Meg scoffed, but she allowed his manhandling as he wrapped a supportive arm around her waist.

“You’re not the boss of me, Clarence,” she snipped.

“Certainly not,” he agreed. “But you’re a lightweight. Time to go home, before you insult the entire bar.”

“You’re no fucking fair,” she groused, hitting his chest over his jacket. Cas leveled you and Dean with a long-suffering look of apology.

Dean waved him off with a “no sweat it” look and a shake of his head. Meg annoyed the shit out of him sometimes, especially when she was drunk. He turned to you with a sigh.

“Again, sorry about that. I didn’t think I’d have to apologize for my friends more than once tonight,” he said.

You shook your head. “It’s...okay. Overall, they were really fun.”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t think Cas has been called fun even once in his life.”

You smiled in amusement, but Meg’s words still swirled around in your head like heady wine.

“Dean,” you began, but your attempt to broach the issue was cut off by his cell phone ringing. He gave you an apologetic look and fished in his pocket for his phone. His brows rose when he saw the caller ID.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta take this,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, okay—” You’d barely nodded when Dean was up and out of his chair, heading out of the bar. You could still see him through one of the faded glass doors as he held the phone up to his ear.

It was late, and quieter now. A blonde server came to take your plates, and you actually remembered her.

“Oh, hi! Jo, right?” you asked. She hesitated when you spoke, but she bobbed her head.

“That’s me,” she said. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I met your mom. She’s really nice.”

Jo uttered a wry laugh as she stacked the plates and silverware. You helped her collect the silverware and empty beer bottles.

“Yeah, when you get her good side,” she replied.

You smirked at that, remembering how Ellen snapped back and forth with Dean. You had no doubt that woman could be a pistol if you pissed her off.

“Well, it's nice here,” you admitted, once again taking stock of the décor. The music, the warm lighting, the good food… “It’s cozy.”

Jo’s smile quirked to one side as she paused.

“Well, it’s been in my family for three generations of Harvelles,” she said. “This was my father’s favorite place in the world.”

You caught the note of melancholy in her words, in her eyes.

“Was?” you echoed. She met your gaze and nodded.

“He was a firefighter,” she said. “He died on the job.”

You dimmed considerably. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jo only nodded.

“How did he…” Your curiosity got the best of you, but you soon shook your head and backtracked. “Never mind, you don’t have to explain.”

“It was a fire that wasn’t properly vented,” Jo answered your half-spoken question. Her blue eyes were heavier. “He got caught in an updraft…but he actually worked at Firehouse 25. He was their brother. That’s why this’ll always be their place.”

You processed that with a slow nod of wonder.

“It’s good that you and your mom will always have that support,” you said eventually. “Even though…it might be hard too, to always be reminded.”

Jo’s lips quirked again. “It’s more the first one, but…sometimes the second one. A lot of these guys have known me since I had braces. It’s hard to shake that perpetual little sister thing.”

You smiled at that. “Yeah, I’d imagine that gets old real quick. A bunch of over-protective older brothers.”

“Overbearing, more like,” she scoffed. You laughed.

Unconsciously, you glanced over to the front of the bar, where you saw Dean still on the phone. You remembered the second date you were meant to have, when he was late due to a five-car pileup his team responded to.

You remembered that night he called you for the first time, after a long day he didn’t want to tell you about. He’d let you distract him instead. All the while, it had you wondering what he’d seen. What he’d responded to that day.

Had it been another car accident? A fire? What made someone as upbeat and funny and smooth as Dean seem to lose all the life in his voice?

Though while you were lost in your thoughts, Jo was watching you.

Jealousy roiled inside her, unbidden. She didn’t want to hate you, because unlike the girls Dean usually messed around with, you had some self-respect. Jo heard Meg’s snide clips at you earlier, and no one could fake the surprise in your eyes. Unless you were just that good a damn actor…

But no, she didn’t get that vibe from you.

It didn’t mean she had to like you though.

“You’re right to think twice,” Jo said, earning your attention back with a swivel of your head. “What Meg said…she wasn’t wrong. Dean’s broken a few hearts, if you catch my drift.”

Just a few well-placed words, Jo thought. She realized then that she had the power to twist the wrench here, widening the gap between you and Dean. Feed your doubts.

She didn’t have to feel bad about it if it was the truth.

And yet…she saw the way your gaze fell. The disappointment setting in, the anxious clench of your hands on the table. You glanced over at Dean again out of the corner of your eye.

Jo realized then just what she was doing, not just to Dean, but to herself.

You’re not some petty bitch, she dully reminded herself.

“But,” she found herself adding. You raised your gaze back to her. Jo let out a subtle breath.

“It’s not always his fault,” she admitted. And maybe she was speaking a bit too much from experience. “The job demands a lot from him.”

Slowly, you nodded. You looked pensive, but not like you’d made up your mind.

Fine, Jo thought, as she collected the dishes and left your table.

She didn’t know if she wanted to sway you one way or the other on taking a chance on Dean Winchester.

While you were talking to Jo, Dean was taking his father’s unexpected call.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” he said.

“Hey, son. How are ya?” John’s voice was gruff and tired. Dean frowned to hear it.

“I’m good. I’m out right now, but did you need something?”

“Have you responded to any fires lately?”

“You mean like the Richardson fire?” Dean asked pointedly. “No, haven’t had one since. And no cattle prod brandings either.”

“All right, good. Just checking in.”

Good? Dean thought. John would be chomping at the bit for a new arson. If he was “just checking in,” then he was worried about something. Is he worried about me?

“What’s going on? Is there something I need to know?” Dean asked in suspicion. This was why he had taken the call. “Seriously, you can tell me. I’m not even gonna bitch at you like Sam does.”

John chuckled. But then he hesitated. Dean knew he’d hit on something.

“Dad?” he pressed.

John’s sigh was a heavy one. “Okay. What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in trepidation. “Okay, fine. What the hell is it?”

“Richardson, the father of two?” John reminded. “He was a lawyer, linked to a money laundering scheme through a company called Stull Storage. It’s an old company, dates back to the seventies.”

“Okay…”

As John continued to explain, the more confused Dean became…

About 30 years ago, John Winchester had been a young, but promising officer in the Narcotics division. He’d married young, and by then was just barely clearing the five-year mark. Already he had the house he’d inherited from his wife’s parents, a four-year-old son, and a newborn.

Stull Storage’s units were used by a drug ring that John had been trying to infiltrate, undercover. Those units had stored cocaine, illegal weapons, and other flavors of contraband, mostly from South America (and back).

“We got close to breaking that case, once, but after the fire…I transferred out of Narcotics, as you know,” John said.

Dean knew the real story there. After his mom died, his father went into a spiral, trying to find whoever set that fire—even after the Fire Department found no evidence of arson. John had eventually been forced out of Narcotics. He requested Homicide.

As he’d told Dean once when he was extremely drunk: I seem to do better at my job when the bodies are already dead.

“Now I know that I was right about your mother’s death,” John said.

Dean released a shaky sigh. “Aw, man. Not this again, Dad. For Christ’s sake.”

“There was something wrong about that fire, Dean,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over Dean’s objections. “I just didn’t find the connection…until now.”

Dean muttered a curse under his breath. His gaze fell to the ground. Sam was usually the one who drew a hard line at hearing any more about their mom’s supposed murder, but now Dean had reached the end of his tether. It was too much.

He glanced back through the glass doors to make sure you were okay. He saw you talking to Jo, and he frowned at himself.

Here you were, waiting on him back in the bar, and his dad was calling him in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts again.

“Look…it’s been my whole damn life with this.” Dean held the phone to his ear with one hand, and rubbed at his forehead with the other. “I just can’t do this with you anymore.”

“Dean, listen,” John urged. “You wanna know what I’m digging into, this is it. I got Mary’s file unsealed.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “What? Thought you couldn’t do that without new evidence and a court order.”

“Well, I’ve got the evidence…maybe I was a bit impatient with the court order.”

Dean rolled his eyes. His father liked to play a little fast and loose with the rules.

“At the time, the medical examiner dismissed it. She’d been burned…” John paused on a deeper breath. “But I saw it. Mary had a burn on her wrist. It was the same brand found on Richardson. On Jerry Stillwell, CPA. Amanda Waller, journalist. It’s all connected, Dean. How they’re connected to one another, I’m not sure yet. We’re still digging…but I do know this. Richardson was a message.”

Dean’s back hit the wall of the Roadhouse. His brows furrowed as he struggled to digest everything John was saying.

“A message?” he asked. “To who?”

“To me, I think. Those kids, and their mother…you got ‘em out alive, but they weren’t meant to,” John said, his voice sounding heavy. "The wife told me her husband was erratic when he got home, holding his wrist. He'd been burned before the fire. He wouldn't say what happened...then they smelled the goddamn smoke."

"Shit," Dean replied. He leaned heavily against the wall, pressing a hand to his forehead. There was an ache starting between his eyes.

“Yeah," John agreed. "The drug ring I was investigating, when I was in Narcotics. I was getting close. And I mean close. I was about to get the Big Kahuna. The kingpin of the whole operation…and then the house fire.”

Fuck. Dean wiped at his mouth anxiously as he realized what John was saying. Fuck.

“He burned me, Dean. He must have,” John said. Meaning, the drug lord he was trying to pin down somehow discovered his identity. “Your mom paid the price of that.”

“Who is this guy?” Dean asked. His hand holding the phone was starting to tremble.

“I still don’t know his real name. Workin’ on that one too,” John said. “But they called him Azazel.”

When Dean eventually hung up with his father and returned to you at the bar, he saw you brighten. But you soon dimmed with a tinge of worry. Something of his thoughts must’ve shown on his face.

Shit. He tried his best to school his features.

“Hey, sorry about that,” he said, grasping your shoulder. “I’ll take you home.”

“I met you here, remember?” you asked.

Dean paused, then shook his head. Get it together, asshole.

“Right," he said. "Well, I’ll walk you to your car. Let me just pay real quick.”

After he sorted out the bill (he didn’t know that you’d slipped in an extra $30 in Cas’s stack for your part), he led you out, saying goodbye to Ellen and Jo while you went.

You hesitated when the two of you got to the car. Something wasn’t right with him. And both Jo and Meg’s words still rolled back and forth through your head.

“Dean, are you okay? Who was it on the phone?” you asked.

“I’m fine. It was just my dad, called to have me take a look at his car. We were just arguing about our schedules…I’m sure you can relate,” he replied, trying at a smile.

You weren’t sure if you believed him. Though he was nearly convincing, he was also shifting on his feet, hands in his pockets. His gaze roamed away from yours, above your head and over your shoulder.

“Um, I might’ve had a beer too many,” you said with a half-chuckle. “Could you walk with me for a bit? Just until my head clears enough to drive.”

“I could take you home,” Dean offered.

“And leave my car here?” you asked. In a public parking lot behind a bar?

You shook your head and pointed down the road.

“Just there and back…but if you need to go, I guess I could just sit in my car for a while.”

Dean shook his head with a frown. He couldn’t tell you that a damn serial killer was on the loose.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s a relatively safe neighborhood, but not so much at night. Not by yourself.”

He laid a hand on your back to start walking with you, but his hand soon fell back to his side. You glanced at him, but he looked straight ahead, unusually quiet and reserved.

It felt like he was checking out of this night with you. Like he just wanted to usher you into the car and leave. Did he just not want to deal with what Meg said?

Letting out a breath, you tried to see if you could broach the subject.

“It was nice to meet some more of your friends,” you said, and with a nervous laugh, “even if it did get awkward there at the end.”

Dean finally looked over at you.

“We never exactly talked about what each of us was looking for,” you said. “What we were really doing here.”

You stood your ground, but you tried not to look censuring. Just open to whatever he might have to say. Even so, unease churned inside you.

Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Look, she wasn’t exactly wrong about me.”

You considered that with a nod, biting the inside of your lip.

“When was the last time you were in a relationship?” you asked. Dean gave a humorless huff of a laugh. This really was the last thing he wanted to get into tonight, but he had a feeling he had no choice.

“A few months ago, for about a minute,” he said. “But uh, before then…never.”

Together, you began to cross the street while the cars on either side waited at the red light. Pedestrians had the right of way for the next 30 seconds. You looked over at him and steeled yourself.

“Dean, is this is something casual for you?”

“Define casual,” he attempted to joke (or to deflect). Though the bravado fell the moment he saw that look on your face: tight and disappointed…and hurt.

He reached for your hand, but you weren’t having it. You slipped away from him and continued walking at a more brusque clip, even in those platform heels.

“Okay, hold on.” He quickly followed after you and tugged you back by the hand. It had you both stopping in the middle of the crosswalk.

Dean squeezed your hand and peered into your eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry. Don’t close up on me,” he implored. “…Please.”

Despite your better judgment, and your pursed lips, you waited. Something told you this man didn’t often say please.

“The truth is, I’m trying to do something different here with you. I don’t think we would’ve made it to date #4 if we were just casual,” he said. “I’m not playing games either.”

You wanted to trust that he was serious. Once again, your mind and your heart were at odds; the former told you to be wary, while the latter told you to trust the earnestness in his eyes.

Your heart won. “Okay, Dean.”

“Yeah?” he asked, with hopeful brows raised.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

You finally smiled. And you leaned up, resting a hand against his chest, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His stubble was coarse, but familiar against your lips.

Dean turned his head and leaned in for a proper kiss. His hands found the curve of your waist and brought you closer against his chest. You both sunk deeper into it, your lips gliding as your head tilted into the kiss…

Until a horn honked loudly, making you both jolt at the sound.

The streetlight was green, and several cars were waiting for you to cross. You snorted in amusement, leading Dean to grin down at you. He tugged you back into step with him across the street.

Again, you hesitated at your car. Dean was more himself as he’d held your hand all the way back.

He now held your car door open while you threw in your purse. But when you turned back to him, you still saw something brooding behind his eyes.

You drew near and grasped the open edges of his shirt. This man wore a lot of plaid when he was out of uniform, always with an undershirt. Tonight it was green plaid on gray, complete with some faded jeans and a pair of boots. This was the only “casual” way in which you wanted Dean.

“Hey,” you started.

“Hmm?” he replied, holding you by your arms.

“I get that we haven’t known each other all that long. So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you said. “But did something happen when you stepped out? When you talked to your dad?”

Dean paused. His eyes, a pale green under the streetlamp, flicked to yours.

“I just want to know that you’re okay,” you said. “And if you’re not, that’s okay too.”

After a moment to blink in surprise, your earnestness got to him. His grip moved down your arms, and he took one of your hands. His dad’s warning echoed through his mind.

What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.

Dean knew his dad didn’t make demands without a reason, even if he wasn’t typically so forthcoming with them. But Dean drew enough courage to be as honest as he could be. You deserved that much, after everything you'd put up with tonight.

“My mom died...when I was about four,” he said. “It was a house fire.”

Your eyes widened. All this time, you’d assumed his mother had passed away. You hadn’t expected that, though. You squeezed his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, and you meant it. Dean just shook his head.

“It was ruled an accident. Really they just didn’t have much evidence either way,” he continued. “But uh, my dad’s been obsessed with the idea that it wasn’t. That someone started the fire on purpose… Well, today, he might’ve found his proof.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could, but in the end, he just couldn’t. His chest was tight. Saying those words out loud made them real, and he wasn’t sure of how to handle it.

“Oh, Dean,” you said, starting and stopping, as you struggled to formulate a response that wasn’t just “I’m sorry,” or “Are you okay?”

He clearly wasn’t. You also didn’t want to give him platitudes like, “That’s crazy,” or the ever-inspired: “Wow.”

Or some other variation of what you’re supposed to say. You wanted to give him something honest. Something real.

So you curled your hands around his arms, earning his gaze.

“You must be reeling right now,” you said. “Do you think he’s onto something this time?”

“I don’t know what to think,” said Dean. “I’ve been pressing him for answers, but…honestly? I wish he hadn’t told me a damn thing.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You were surprised that he actually confided in you with this. But the only thing you could think to do was lean up on your toes and slip your arms around his neck. You hugged him, warm and tight.

You couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling, but you just wanted him to know that someone was there for him. You were there for him.

Dean eventually hugged you back. He held you, reassuring you as well as himself. He blew out a cathartic breath, and his hand came up to cup the back of your head. His lips tugged upwards.

“You’re a sweetheart, you know that?” he said.

A smile spread across your face. Your fingers soothed through his hair gently. You pressed your lips into his neck.

“I aim to please,” you said against his skin.

Dean smiled more fully at that. The new warmth in his chest warred against the roiling in his stomach. Despite his best efforts, his smile faded.

His mom’s killer was still out there.

The thought was haunting his mind, and he knew it probably would for many nights to come.

So for now, he’d just hold you a bit tighter.

AN: 🥲 I honestly didn't mean it to end so angsty, but Dean finally got some much-needed hurt/comfort there! What did you think of how Jo handled her jealous side? And Gordon "shooting his shot" lol.

Coming soon in Part 7, we finally get to a huge milestone between these two lovebirds, with a side helping of baking shenanigans. 😏❤️‍🔥

Next Time:

“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”

You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”

Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.

He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.

Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.

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soaringeag1e · 6 months

Text

Escape {68}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Sadness, Character Death, Funeral

Words: 2,234

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He couldn’t walk in right away. Just being there didn’t feel right. Sam offered to go for him, but he felt as if it was his responsibility, not his sons.

Taking a quick glance over his shoulder to see if Bobby was on his way out of his meeting, he then took the first step into the office of his eldest son. It was clear that Bobby was going to be a few minutes more and John didn’t feel right just standing in the doorway any longer.

An empty box that the station usually uses for cases sat on the desk, a reminder of why he was there if he were to forget for any reason. But that wasn’t possible.

Running his fingers along the dark wood of the desk, John moves around to the office chair and pushes it back a little so he can access the drawers. He sighs as he looks over the desk top, a few pictures of family smiling up at him and giving him a few good memories to grin about.

Reaching out for the one of him and Mary, he lifts it with ease, his thumb running over his wife in the picture as he smiles for the first time that morning, but that doesn’t stop the sinking feeling he gets when he goes to set it into the box. And that’s why he knew that he needed to come here and do this, not Sam.

He moves slowly, grabbing each picture and setting it in the box but not before looking them over first. Next, he starts opening the drawers, grabbing anything that looks like a personal item of Deans.

“Hope that box is big enough.” The sudden company startles him, but he sends the man a soft smile.

“Yeah, it should be fine. Doesn’t look like he has much here anyway.” Bobby nods and slowly moves into the office, sighing as he looks around. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah.” Bobby sighs heavily, slipping his hands into his jeans. “It’s just…weird.”

“I get it.” John sympathizes, still pulling a few things from the drawers. “Are you going to give the office up?” It was a legit question, but Bobby has to admit that hearing it feels just as weird as seeing the room missing the owner.

“No. I don’t think I’ll be able to do that.” he says, shaking his head gently. It falls silent between the two while John continues to look for Dean’s personals, but when it looks like he’s about done, Bobby asks.

“What time is the service again?”

“Three.” John confirms, nodding while resting his hands on the box.

“Do you and Mary need me to do anything? Food maybe?”

“No, she’s got that handled. She just hired a caterer.” The two men nod, not knowing how else to respond. “And Sam and Sarah took care of the flowers, so,”

“Good. That’s good.” Neither would want to admit that they were both getting a little teary eyed. “Well,” he starts but has to clear his throat. “If you guys need anything, just shoot me a text or give me a call, okay?”

“Definitely.” John pushes a soft smile, trying to be as comforting as he can. “I should uh, get back to the house.”

“Of course.” Bobby nods, stepping aside to let John through the threshold first. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.” John sends him a nod and then slowly makes his way out of the station, glancing at Eddie’s desk along the way.

Bobby stands outside Dean’s office, his heart heavy as he watches his friend leave, carrying a box that held the life of his best detective. In denial that any of this is happening, he turns to shut the office door and his hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment before latching it. As he goes to head back for his office though, he takes a quick look at Eddie's desk too, the heaviness of this entire situation just weighing him down and he knew there was nothing that would help make it go away.

Mary was probably standing at the counter for over fifteen minutes just watching the coffee drip into the pot. The silence in the house assisted her in spacing out. It’s only when the machine makes a deep gurgling noise that she’s able to snap out of it and she pulls a few mugs down from the cupboard.

She fills all of them to the owner's liking and then sets the pot back on the burner. Grabbing the sugar bowl, she puts in a couple spoonfuls in hers and stirs it up, her attention span trying to escape again but she holds on by a thread.

When she hears her son clear his throat from the adjoining room, she sets the spoon down and quickly fixes up the others. Like a pro, she gets a good grip on the handles and carries them over to the table where Sam and Sarah are folding programs.

“Here you go, sweetie.” Sam looks up at his mom, sending her a gentle smile as she slides a mug over to his wife and then nudges his closer to him.

“Thanks, mom.” Mary’s eyes linger on the cream colored pamphlet, her heart aching as she runs the tips of her fingers over one of the pictures on the inside.

“I’ll be right back.” she tells them quietly, her coffee along with another in her hand as she heads for the backdoor. Careful not to spill either mugfull, she pushes on the handle with her elbow getting it to come loose enough for her to push it open with her foot. She then looks at the person sitting on the deck, a heartbreaking sigh falling from her lips before she makes her way over and takes a seat.

“I know you won’t take water but I’m not giving you alcohol.” she says to her eldest son as she hands him the other coffee in her hand. His little grin doesn’t last long, but Mary understands.

It kills her, everything that has happened. Dean was in the hospital for a few weeks, at one point on the brink of death. Doctors told them to prepare themselves and she was sure that she was losing her son, but he fought back. Just like he did everyday of his life, and now, here he was. Though, with how the outcome was for others, it didn't exactly feel like a win.

“How are you holding up, honey?”

“I’m doing alright.” he answers after a few moments, his voice hoarse and low as he hasn’t spoken a word for hours.

“Your leg hurting or anything?”

“No, I’m okay.” Switching her coffee to her right hand, Mary then rubs Dean’s back a little before leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. He leans against her, welcoming the comfort though he said he wanted to be left alone. He couldn’t deny that it was nice to have that in that moment.

“Uh, mom?” Neither of them heard the backdoor open, but when they heard Sam they pulled apart and looked over their shoulders. “It’s the caterer. They have a question about one of the dishes.” Holding the cordless phone up, Sam can’t help but look between the two of them, his curiosity of how his brother was doing being one of his main focuses.

“Okay.” Mary says as she gets up from her spot.

“Mom, I can get it if you…”

“No, no. I got it. You just drink your coffee.” she points to the mug before reaching for the phone and heads back inside. Sam watches her for a moment but then steps outside and shuts the door behind him. Seeing this, Dean turns back and takes a sip of his coffee, letting his eyes disappear into the black liquid.

When Sam sits down, he sighs and looks over at his brother. Dean eventually looks up and they share a similar sad grin before Sam pats his brother on the back and then they both look out over the backyard together.

No words needed to be said between the two, and even if there was, neither of them knew what to say. After what they all have gone through over the past couple weeks silence was one of the best things for all of them.

Though he was sitting in the front row with his family, Dean couldn’t hear a word that the priest was saying. His eyes were locked on the casket at the front of the room. He never even heard his name being called from the man. It was Mary that got his attention when she put her hand on his leg.

He looks a little lost for a minute but then realizes he’s been summoned up on stage. As he walks by the casket, he takes slower strides and tries his hardest to keep his composure. But despite keeping himself together, once he gets up to the podium and looks out over the crowd, he locks back up.

Everyone is patient of course, not one person not understanding what he was going through, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a tad embarrassed for the fact that he’s lost his tough guy persona in front of so many.

He feels like he’s up there for hours before he’s able to clear his throat and finally look away from the casket. Reaching into his suit jacket, he pulls out a folded piece of paper, slowly unraveling it to remind himself of what he had written down. It took him days to get down what he wanted to say, and even then he knew it would never be enough.

“Hi.” One word out and he already has to clear his throat. “I’ve uh…I’ve spent days going through every memory I possibly could trying to come up with the best thing to say for this. But the thing is,” he pauses, shaking his head as tears start filling his eyes. “Nothing I say will ever reach the heights that it should.” With how emotional he was already getting, Dean knew he would have to pause his speech multiple times.

“The truth is, and we all know it, is that this should have never happened. There’s evil all around us all the time and I’ve dedicated my life to trying to stop that. And despite what everyone has told me, multiple times, I feel as if I’ve failed.” he croaks and has to reach up to rub his neck, in an attempt to loosen the tightness he was feeling.

“I think about that night over and over again, and I think about how if I was just a little more aware, if I just looked around a little more before entering that barn, then maybe I could have prevented this from escalating as much as it did.” Dean wipes at his face and then smooths out his notes on the podium. The sniffles coming from the crowd go unheard by him because he’s so stuck in his own thoughts and feelings. He’s struggling to focus on his own speech let alone how the room is reacting to what he’s saying.

“Many of you have told me your side of the story, about how everything went down that night and I know that none of us are surprised.” Dean’s able to smile just a bit as he looks out at his fellow officers. “Eddie was just as dedicated to the job as I was and that’s why I was honored to have him as a partner.” He seems to reminisce for a second before clearing his throat again, the speech heading back into emotional territory.

“I don’t know if it’s because of his lack of family and support or if we were just meant to click the way we did, but over the years he’s become family to me and I couldn’t imagine working alongside anyone else.” Dean looks up from his notes then, his eyes landing on someone in the front row and they don’t so much as flinch as he continues. “Eddie spent his last moments protecting the most important person in my life, and I know that even if we weren’t as close as we were, his actions wouldn’t have changed because that’s the kind of person and officer he was.” Eyes dropping back to his paper, he has yet to dry another tear that slips from his eye.

“There’s nothing that I’ll ever be able to do that will repay him for what he’s done. I just hope that I can honor him throughout the rest of my life and I hope that it’ll be enough.” Dean swallows and then straightens himself a bit before looking over at the casket again.

“We’ll see you on the other side, brother.” he concludes, haphazardly folding up his paper and sticking it back in his jacket. Then, he carefully walks back to his seat, babying his leg since standing for too long seems to make it flare up.

When he takes his seat again, you slide your hand into his, bearing down as you try and comfort him. Once he finds a comfortable spot where his leg starts to calm, he leans over and kisses your cheek, silently thanking his partner again for saving you from the bullet that night.

58 notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 26 days

Text

Save Me - Part Two

A Short Story

~ Sometimes, when life seems the brightest, shadows creep in. After announcing their engagement to the world, Jensen's fiancé is kidnapped. With the help of a friend, she tries to fight her way back home to him.~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader, Dean Winchester (cameos by Misha Collins and OCs)

7,160 Words Total. Part Two: 3,950

Warnings: My kind of Super Angst. Blood. Injury. Kidnapping. It's really sad...

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "No one's coming to save you. Get up!"

PART ONE ~ PART TWO

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

Snow was falling from a gray sky. Big flakes landed on his shoulders, dusted his hair, melted on his cheeks. His lips were frozen; his fingers numb.

The cherry of his cigarette fell to the icy sidewalk and he huffed. He fumbled with the lighter and lit back up, pulling at the filter as if he were trying to set his lungs on fire.

Maybe he was. Maybe he wanted to set the hotel on fire, the police station, the entire city.

Jensen tipped his head back and exhaled, sending the smoke to mix with the clouds overhead.

“When did you start smoking again?”

Misha appeared next to him, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other holding a jacket. He was visibly cold, bouncing a bit for warmth even as he settled next to Jensen.

“I don’t know. When did the world implode? Four days ago?” He licked his lip and then took another drag. “Then.”

Misha shook his head sadly and Jensen rolled his eyes.

He flicked the butt into the street and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Put your coat on at least,” Misha suggested, tapping his shoulder with the jacket.

Jensen looked down at it as if he’d never seen anything like it.

“No.”

Misha sighed. “It’s freezing. You’re gonna get sick.”

“So?”

Not wanting to fight, Misha draped the jacket over Jensen’s shoulders and gave him a friendly squeeze.

“Y/N needs you to be strong. You can’t go off and get pneumonia.”

Jensen turned his head and glared; green eyes narrow and angry. “She doesn’t need me to be strong. She needs me to fucking find her.” His jaw clenched so hard he could feel his pulse beat in his temples. “She needs me to save her.”

Heartbroken, Misha closed his eyes and dropped his head. “I know. But there’s nothing you can do right now.”

Jensen scoffed. “Isn’t there?”

“No. The police are-”

Enraged, defeated, hopeless, Jensen spun away, kicking at the snow and pushing Misha’s care away. “The police aren’t doing shit! It’s been four fucking days!”

“I know…”

“They can’t even figure out who took her. The fucking- the security cameras in the parking garage weren’t fucking working! What the fuck good is that!”

The louder Jensen’s voice grew, the smaller Misha felt. There was nothing he could say, no way to comfort his friend.

Jensen wouldn’t be comforted even if Misha knew how. He wanted to rage at the universe. To put his fist through the brick wall behind him. To drive a truck through the Starbucks across the street. To run away from everyone and everything in this godforsaken city and find her. He had to find her.

A snowflake landed on his nose and he batted it away, slapping himself in the face.

He calmed.

His heart ached.

His voice crackled with tears.

“Odds are,” he whispered, “She’s dead already.”

“Don’t say that.” Misha choked back his own pain and cleared his throat. “The detective said there’s no reason to assume-”

Jensen laughed bitterly. “Forty-eight hours, isn’t that what they say? If you don’t find them in the first forty-eight hours you’re not going to. Or they turn up dead on the side of the road or in a shallow grave behind some psycho’s house.”

“Jensen…”

Green eyes closed to the world.

He was trembling, shaking from the cold and the pain of uncertainty and loss.

“I just…I don’t know what to do.”

They stood there in silence, letting January seep into their bones. There was nothing to say, nothing either of them could do.

It just was what it was.

And it was impossible.

A deep shiver moved through Jensen’s body and he shoved his arms through the jacket sleeves, thankful that Misha was looking out for him and the little things. He was too shattered to care about staying alive. Not right now.

He turned back to his friend and the revolving doors, deciding it was time to go back in and shake away the cold.

Flashing lights pulled his attention to the street and he held his breath as the police car turned into the hotel lot. The world moved in slow motion as the car parked in the nearby handicapped spot and Detective Lassiter hopped out. He held a clear bag in his thick fist and his countenance was heavy. He looked at Jensen and shook his head.

Jensen’s universe cracked. He bit his tongue, needing to feel the pain to keep himself conscious as the detective explained what had happened.

“They’re not asking for a ransom,” he said, speech rushed and emotionless. “Not yet, anyway. But this- this is good.” He handed the bag to Jensen.

Y/N’s diamond engagement ring glistened in the dim gray light.

Jensen closed his fist around it. The platinum prongs dug into his palm. “How?” His voice broke. “How is this good?”

“Means they want something. They’re not just going to kill her and be done. This is the kidnappers opening a line of communication.”

Jensen couldn’t hear him, couldn’t follow his words any longer. His fist tightened and the diamond cut through the thin evidence bag. He squeezed until it hurt, until his skin broke, until he could feel the warm trickle of blood.

A drop fell from his fist and painted the freshly fallen snow.

It was hard to stay awake, hard to think.

The pain was still there, but she couldn’t feel it much anymore. It didn’t feel as intense, as if she were getting used to the constant stabbing and shredding of her insides that accompanied every breath she took.

She couldn’t feel the cold anymore either. Her flesh had simply become part of the concrete, all of her warmth had been drained into the darkness.

In and out of the dreamless sleep of unconsciousness, she lay on the dirty floor, barely able to think let alone move.

“Why you?” she whispered, watching burgundy flannel pace back and forth by the steps.

Dean stopped short, his boots making a dull thud on the floor.

“What?”

She lifted her head, cringed at the hurt that erupted in her shoulder.

“I said, why is it you?”

His forehead creased and he shrugged. “I don’t know. Who else would it be?”

Y/N rubbed her right eye. It was dry and it hurt to blink. She was dehydrated and starving; her body was failing, her mind was slipping.

“It’s just odd, I guess.”

Dean sat on the bottom step, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t think it’s that weird. You need someone to talk to, you need someone to help. I’m pretty good at that shit.”

Y/N sighed. “But you don’t exist. I’m just talking to myself.”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really.”

“There should have been way more demon Dean.”

Jensen laughed and shot her a look that would have knocked her over had she not already been sitting down.

The couch cushion between them seemed as wide as an ocean, but neither were ready to swim across.

“You like bad boys, huh?” He licked his lips and watched hers as she answered.

“I guess everybody does at some point,” she said. “But there was something special about Dean as a demon. It was like… he was finally free for a little while. Like he was on vacation. Just hanging out and getting laid-”

Jensen grinned. “And murdering innocent people.”

She dipped her chin and looked up at him flirtatiously. “Is anyone ever truly innocent, Jensen?”

His smile faded and he stared harder. His lips parted slowly. “Are you?”

She blinked, painted lashes fanning over enchanting eyes. “I can be when I need to be.”

Her hand slid across the space between them and she bit her lip, daring him to match her move, begging him to meet her halfway.

He dropped his hand to the cushion, fingers landing a breath away from hers.

“What about right now?” he asked, leaning close.

She could feel the heat pushing off of him, smell the lingering scent of his faded cologne.

“Honestly?” she smirked.

He nodded. “Always.”

Y/N leaned in dangerously close. “I’m not feeling too innocent right now.”

A tentative kiss. The first taste of his lips; the first feel of her skin.

There were footsteps above her head. Someone running; heavy shoes falling on old wooden planks.

Y/N lay on her back and stared up at nothing. There were long beams above her and she wondered what it would take for them to come crashing down and crush her to death.

It wasn’t that she wanted to die, she’d never want that, but she knew it was happening. She could feel her body giving up. Her skin was hot but she shivered. Her blood had dried but the wounds wouldn’t stay closed. Her thoughts were fuzzy and shadows played tricks on her.

She couldn’t tell how long it had been since they’d tossed her down the steps; didn’t know how far from help she was. Time meant nothing. It could have been hours, a month, a week mostly likely. There was no way for her to guess. No windows to help count the sunsets, no ticking clock to pace her breaths to.

Sometimes, she counted her heartbeats just to have something to do, but they were unsteady. Too fast at times and then far too slow. It scared her to pay attention to the erratic pulse of her blood, so she tried to ignore it.

Mostly, she remembered things.

Mostly, she remembered him.

In moments when the pain overwhelmed her and her eyes refused to stop leaking, she would pull up his face, try to remember the placement of every freckle, count each thick eyelash. She could still feel his hands on her skin, smell his breath first thing in the morning. She could taste the salt on his neck after a workout, hear his delicate whispers in the heat of night. But his eyes were fading away. She couldn’t get the shade right in her mind; couldn’t remember what shirt made them darker, what time of day they looked the lightest.

The green was washing away.

Last winter. A break in filming. Sand beneath their feet; ocean breeze filling their lungs.

The sun was so bright it hurt her eyes, but she refused to close them, unwilling to miss one single second of time with him.

He was already burning in the sun; his shoulders tanning, his chest turning red. Every now and then, he’d take off and run into the water, dip below the perfect blue horizon and cool off. She loved those moments the best, when he came back to her dripping and laughing, his hair wet and slicked back behind his jet-fin ears.

He’d always come back to her, always fall down over her, hold himself up on his big arms and let the ocean water dribble down onto her bare stomach. He’d block the sun for a few precious moments, and all she could see was the halo around him and the love in his eyes.

“Y/N…”

She couldn’t open her eyes. They felt so heavy, so dry. It was all so pointless.

“Y/N, wake up, sweetheart.”

Dean was hovering again, crouched down at her side. His giant hand was hovering over her forehead as if checking her temperature like a mother would for her child.

“Don’t- don’t call me that,” she croaked. Her eyes fluttered open and she was met with his worried smile.

“What should I call you then?”

“A cab.”

He laughed softly. “You’re still funny. That’s good.”

“Is it?”

She tried to sit up but her spine felt like gelatin. She tried to speak but her throat was ripped to shreds. She tried to cry but her eyes were dry and nothing came out. Her shoulders shook and she moaned pitifully.

Dean’s jaw clenched, dimples popped above his lip. “You gotta get out of here. You’re not doin’ so well.”

Y/N curled in on herself, knees and shoulders meeting somewhere in the middle. “Go away.”

“No.”

She covered her face.

He shifted onto his knees. “You gotta get up and find a way out.”

“There is no way out. We’ve looked a hundred times.”

He exhaled hard, frustrated and desperate. “You gotta try again. You gotta get out.”

Her eyes fell closed again, her breathing slowed. “He’ll find me. He’ll save me…”

Y/N was still confused when the elevator door opened. Jensen had refused to tell her where they were going or why they were dressed like they were being photographed for GQ.

‘Wear that purple dress,’ he’d said on the phone with no explanation why.

Her hand clasped in his, they stepped out into a large empty ballroom. Floor to ceiling windows looked out on a gray morning; the L.A. smog was thick and hung like rain clouds in the sky.

Jensen led her deep into the room and turned to face her. He was nervous, she could tell. His chewed his bottom lip, rubbed his thumb over her hand quickly, breathed a little too fast.

She laughed gently. “What’s going on?”

He took a big, calming breath.

He licked his lips and smiled.

“Eighteen months ago, we were both here for that HBO after party. You wore this purple dress and I was wearing…” He looked down at his crisp black button down and charcoal slacks. “Well, this.”

She smiled. “I remember. It was the first time we met.”

He swallowed hard and held her hand in both of his. His palms were damp.

“But what you don’t know is that I saw you the very second you walked in.” He bit the corner of his mouth and took a second to collect his racing thoughts. “I was over there by the window talking to Eric and you walked in… It was like the crowd opened up for you. Every head turned; the music stopped.”

“I don’t think it was that much of an entrance,” she laughed.

“It was for me.”

Her heart raced.

“Jen, what’s going on?”

He smiled and bent down to kiss her lips. He held her face in his hands, ran his thumbs lightly over her cheeks. She kissed him back, licking at his plump lips.

“I wanted to do that the moment I saw you,” he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open and all she saw was green.

“And this…”

He let her go and dropped down onto one knee.

He took her hand.

She held her breath.

“Marry me, Y/N…”

“I need you to calm down.”

Detective Lassiter was tucked behind his messy desk, his beer gut smushed against the edge.

Jensen refused to relax. He paced in front of the man’s desk, his hands rushing through his hair; fists beating at the stale air.

“I can’t fucking calm down, OK!” His face was red and his jaw hurt from holding his tongue for so long. “You people can’t do shit, you know that? It’s been six fucking days.”

“Mr. Ackles, please-”

“No. No. No.” He turned to the detective and slammed his hands down on the desk. He leaned in, close to growling. “You need to save her.”

The older man sat forward. “We are doing everything we can. They’re working on the emails right now. Still hoping there’s traceable DNA on the ring. We will get these bastards. We will find her.”

Jensen closed his eyes, felt a thousand more tears brewing in his chest. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on without having a complete breakdown. There wasn’t enough bourbon in the world to soothe his soul.

Only one thing would do.

Only Y/N.

He was coughing so badly she was sure he was dying. She could hear him from the kitchen, his wet cough rattling above the sound of the screaming kettle.

She poured the boiling water onto the tea bag and grabbed some Tylenol from the cabinet.

The room was dark but the light from his cell phone guided her across the soft carpet.

“Hey…”

He groaned miserably.

“You feelin’ any better?”

He shook his head. “I feel like death.”

Y/N set the mug of tea down on the nightstand and switched on the lamp.

He cringed at the light and shielded his eyes with a forearm over his face.

“You better not die on me, Ackles. I’ve still got plans for you.”

He smiled and sat up a little bit, reaching for the tea. “You can’t get rid of me this easily. Even if it is your fault.”

She gasped in mock offense. “It is not my fault!”

“You got me sick,” he chuckled and took a sip.

“Yeah. You’re right. It was all part of my master plan to steal the Impala from you.” She pressed her fingertips together and gave him an evil grin. “Everything is falling into place.”

He laughed. It triggered a cough and she took the tea from him as his body shook.

“Oh, god, Jen.” Her brow creased with worry and she pressed a cool hand to his cheek. “You’re burning up, baby. I think we should get you to the doctor.”

Jensen shook his head and grabbed her wrist. He closed his eyes and kissed her palm. “Just stay with me, please.”

She smiled and settled in next to him. “They couldn’t pull me away…”

There was screaming coming from above. The words were muffled but the emotion was clear.

They were coming for her.

Y/N lay face down on the floor, her fingertip tracing a crack in the concrete. She was tired, so tired, and cold again. The air touching her skin hurt, the strands of hair that touched her forehead felt like knives.

Dean was standing at the bottom of the stairs, his body locked in a tense defensive pose. He listened to the shouts, eyes narrowed and ears struggling to understand.

“That’s it,” he huffed, spinning around toward Y/N. “You gotta get up. You gotta go. Now.”

Boots pounded above.

Y/N sighed. “It’s fine. He’s coming for me. Jensen is coming. He’ll save me.”

Dean grit his teeth and knelt down beside her. His voice was deep and firm. “Listen to me. You can still fight. You can get up and fight.”

She laughed. “I can’t. Look at me. I’m… I can’t fight. They’ll kill me.”

“Then you go down swinging. You’re not some damsel in distress, Y/N. Get up and fight!”

Gingerly, she rolled over and looked up at him. “Maybe I am. Maybe I just have to lay here and wait for the cops to show up.” She sighed and closed her eyes, waving him away. “I’m tired, Dean.”

The fight upstairs was growing louder, the boots getting closer to the door.

Dean slammed his palms against the floor by her head, making her jolt awake.

“No one is coming to save you. Get up!”

Navy uniforms blurred in his vision. People rushed past the big window, but he stayed put, frozen in the chair beside Lassiter’s desk.

Jensen was in shock; tired and lost. He had barely heard the detective when he explained the situation.

They’d tracked down the kidnappers. The S.W.A.T. team was on their way. Just a few more hours and Y/N would be home.

He just had to wait.

Finally, Dean got her to stand. Her legs were shaky, but her head was clearing. She knew what had to be done.

Behind the staircase was an old, rusted tool box. Inside it, a hammer.

She gripped the wooden handle tight.

Dean urged her to stand in the shadows beside the staircase. He held her gaze, reassuring her every second that she could do this. She could fight her way out. She could run.

The boots above stopped. The kitchen light turned on, illuminating the seams around the door at the top of the stairs.

Y/N steadied her breathing. She bent her knees, planting herself on the spot.

The door creaked loudly as it was pulled open.

Her hand trembled.

Dean nodded reassuringly. “You got this.”

Heavy footsteps bounded down the stairs and a large man appeared, gun in hand.

Y/N’s blood was racing, adrenaline coursing through every cell.

The man turned to the right and Y/N leapt from the left. She lunged forward, swinging the hammer with every bit of strength she had.

She missed his head, striking him in the forearm.

The gun fell.

She pulled her arms back and the claw of the hammer dug into the flesh beneath the man’s chin. He screamed and doubled over, taking the old tool with him.

Y/N stared down at him, eyes wide with shock and terror.

“Now!” Dean clapped his hands, stealing her attention back. “Run!”

She could still feel the warmth of the lights on her face; hear the cheers from the crowd.

Jensen pulled her close and kissed a trail down to her lips. He kissed her forehead, her nose, the top of each cheek. By the time he met her lips, she was laughing into him, so warm, so happy.

His arms folded around her, his beard tickled her cheeks.

She clung to his shirt and sighed.

“I won’t be long,” he whispered. “Just gotta go smile for a thousand photos or so.”

She groaned. “I don’t wanna let go.”

He laughed and squeezed her tight. “Me either.”

The kitchen was bright, the lights burned her eyes. She stumbled into a chair and hit her foot against the island.

Dean was there every step, calling her name, leading her through the worst pain she’d ever experienced.

“You can do this,” he shouted, urging her to move faster. “Just a little farther. Come on!”

She pumped her arms, dodged the sparse furniture in the living room, raced for the front door.

It was locked, bolted and chained.

“Almost there, kid. Almost there.”

She focused hard, willing her fingers to cooperate.

The man shouted from the basement, loud and angry. Dean looked back over his shoulder, and flinched.

“You gotta hurry, Y/N-”

The chain was the hardest part. Her fingers were numb and tingling; she slipped more than once.

Boots thudded on linoleum.

“Come on!”

She wrenched the door open and tumbled out into the cold night air. The moon was full and bright, the sky clear and inky black.

She took a breath and steadied herself; bare feet sinking into the snowy lawn.

Dean was across the street already, silently urging her on with a waving hand and desperate expression.

Flashing lights pulled her gaze away and she smiled. They’d found her.

Sirens blared.

She took a step toward the street.

Dean shouted her name.

She smiled.

A shot rang out and her world fell into darkness.

Jensen collapsed.

His knees hit the ground first, then his hands. His palms scraped against the gravel but the sting was irrelevant.

Someone was touching him, grabbing at his shoulders, trying to help him up, but he shouted and pushed them away. He didn’t want help. He didn’t need comfort. He didn’t want anything.

His chest burned, his heart raged against his ribcage. The earth beneath him opened up, shattered like his soul.

“Jensen…”

He looked up into his own dark eyes. Eyes he’d seen in the mirror for years. Eyes that he’d cried with, laughed with, died with a thousand times.

Dean sighed. A single tear slid down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Jensen closed his eyes and Dean faded into nothingness, swept away by the freezing January wind.

“Keep her safe, Dean,” he whispered. “Stay with her.”

“Always.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05

#spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #dean winchester x reader #angst #save me p2

116 notes · View notes

wayward-dreamer · 2 years

Text

Reluctant Renegade - Prologue

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word count: 2,620

Warnings: Angst, attack, blood, tears, more angst.

A/N: This series has been a long time coming, but I'm so excited to get it out to you all. Inspired by the song Blood Like Lemonade by Morcheeba. Beta’d by my love @evergreencowboy. Big thanks to @writercole for being one of my cheerleaders on this since the idea came to me. Hope you all enjoy it, happy reading! :)

A/N 2: Also, I really need to stress that this is a mini-series, prologue, 8 chapters, epilogue. It’s a short but clear arc, and I’m really happy with the way it turned out. So, yeah. I hope you all like it! :)

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Healing holy man, once upon a time

He lived for his wife up until the crime

November 16th, 1892 – Charlestown, Massachusetts

The sky was thick with dark clouds, the night overcast like a blanket over the moon and the stars. The streetlamps burned as the only source of light, illuminating the cobblestone that covered the streets that were lined with several shop fronts, supplying the small town with all the necessities. At the end of the main road stood the church, frequented by most of the townspeople, but so was the tavern a few feet away. It wasn’t unusual for them to spend their nights drinking amongst other things, and then spend the following Sunday wanting to change their ways.

Candles were lit and scattered around the interior of the church, the stained glass windows shimmering as they depicted different stories from Scripture. St John’s Episcopal Church was quaint but managed to fit all those that visited on Sunday mornings comfortably, with the rest of the week being a quiet space for the reverend to work. Behind the altar, Dean worked in the small office. His week was usually filled by working on his sermon or helping members of his congregation, and when he was done for the day he would walk the short path to his home, back to his wife. The vows he took hadn’t forbidden him to marry, but it had taken several years for him to find the woman who he wanted to spend his life with.

Dean sat behind the solid wood table, the surface covered in parchment with all his notes, his King James Bible at the centre of it all, opened to Ephesians 6:12. His green eyes scanned over the verse several times, his mind reeling with all the possible ways into preaching about that passage. He had woken up that morning with the verse in his head, the words calling to him as if they were some sort of message or warning that he had to project to his congregation.

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places

The creaking of floorboards alerted him, his head lifting up from the papers in front of him as he tried to listen for the sound again. He stood up from the chair, wondering if maybe one of the members of the church needed his help, even if it was unusual for that time of night. A figure approached him as they stepped into the small room, instantly making him smile.

“I certainly wasn’t expecting you,” he stated, walking around the desk and over to the woman he had fallen for many years ago.

“It’s far too late for you to be here,” Carmen scolded lightly, her hand resting on his chest over the fabric of his robes. “I’ve come to accompany you on the walk home.”

“Darling, you know it’s perfectly fine for me to go on my own,” he reasoned, taking her hand in his.

“It frightens me, Dean,” she whispered, looking up into his eyes with fear behind hers.

He shook his head, pulling her close as he wrapped her in his embrace, her head tucked under his chin as he rocked her gently. He glanced up at the wall, his gaze locked on the old painting of the Archangel Michael slaying the Devil, the verse he had been studying ringing true once more. “There’s nothing to fear.”

Carmen shifted back, smiling softly as she curled her fingers over his. “Shall we go?”

“Of course.”

Dean discarded his robes and folded them neatly, leaving them on the table at the back of the room. He picked up his coat and put it on quickly, admiring the way his wife’s slender hands slipped into the gloves she always carried with her. Winter was creeping in, the bitter chill in the air already setting in on the nights he would walk the short distance back to their home. Soon the frosty air would be an all-day occurrence, something that always unnerved him. The summers were his favorite, a way to take advantage of balmy nights down by the creek and watch the stars for hours, with his love beside him.

He blew out the candle on the table and offered Carmen his arm, smiling as she linked hers around, both of them leaving the room. They made their way to the front of the church, a low grunt leaving him as he pushed the wooden door, closing it behind them. Holding close to each other as they descended the stairs and began the journey home, the cold wind whipped against their faces. They turned down the familiar alley that put them on the path to their residence, the short heels of Carmen’s shoes clicking against the cobblestone. It was an easy mile, a straight trail back which they had taken many times before.

Dean’s ears perked up as he heard something behind them. Not wanting to scare his wife, he didn’t turn around, but made sure he kept her close as he continued to listen. They followed the dip in the path, the surrounding alleyways as pitch dark as the sky above them. It was unsettling, and without alarming Carmen as she walked beside him, he discreetly picked up the pace.

A third set of footsteps joined theirs, the growing silhouette of a man appearing along the wall as he stepped out from the alley. Slowly, he stalked towards them, his heavy boots echoing against the stoned street. An uneasy feeling settled deep in Dean’s stomach, but he paid it no attention as the man stopped in front of them, cutting off their path.

“May we help you with something?” Dean asked, trying to keep his voice steady as his hand tightened over Carmen’s.

“Yes,” the man replied, the timbre of his voice deep and menacing even with a single word. “I believe you can.”

He stepped closer to them, an oil lamp hanging outside the exit of a shop illuminating his face. His blonde hair was slicked back, his skin smoother than normal, paler than the average person, and his blue eyes sparkled with something ominous. He glanced behind them as a sinister grin spread across his face, causing Dean to turn around. He saw three more men approach them, equally intimidating. He looked over at his wife, seeing her throat constrict as she tensed in fear, her eyes meeting his.

“We don’t mean any of you any harm,” he reassured the men that surrounded them. “Let us pass and we won’t speak of this to anyone.”

“Oh, we know, all we’re looking for is a little something to eat,” the blue-eyed man stated, his eyes shifting to Carmen. “And I think we’ve found it.”

His hand reached out quicker than Dean could anticipate, grabbing Carmen’s arm and pulling her towards him. A scream erupted from within her as he wrapped her in his hold, her back pressed into his chest, holding onto her arms in a vice-like grip as his other hand grabbed under her chin. Dean growled as he moved forward, seeing the fright written on her face, but felt a harsh pull on his arms as the other men dragged him back.

“Let her go!” Dean yelled. The figure to his left lifted his leg and delivered a knee into Dean’s stomach, making him groan in pain.

The blue-eyed man squeezed Carmen’s face, forcing her to look at Dean. She struggled against him, trying to pull away from his hold but the fourth man stepped away from Dean to help hold her in place. She watched her husband struggle against the hold of the other two, taking hit after hit against his face and torso.

“Stop!” she cried.

“It’s either him or you,” the blue-eyed man threatened, pulling her face up to look at him. “Though I’d much prefer to have you.” His face moved down along her jaw, his nose pressing into the skin of her neck, breathing in the lavender perfume she had applied. His smile widened. “Perfect…”

Dean watched as the blue-eyed man pulled Carmen tight to his body, his mouth attached to her neck. A blood curdling scream left her as she thrashed against him, unable to escape his hold over her. He tried to run towards her, to get to her, but the other men wouldn’t cease their blows; he was too weak. His eyes locked with hers, her mouth open in a silent scream as tears filled her eyes.

“Let her go! Let her go and I’ll- I’ll give you anything you want,” he tried to reason with them, but it was no use.

The blue-eyed man stepped back from her suddenly, her body falling limp onto the ground as she breathed heavily. He turned to Dean, streaks of blood dripping down his cheek as he pulled Dean by the lapels of his coat. His green eyes widened as he saw the man’s mouth covered in his wife’s blood, his teeth unlike anything the preacher had ever seen before. They retracted into his gums to show the man’s regular set, only alarming Dean more.

“Have your fill boys,” he instructed his men, his grip on Dean tight enough to handle him on his own.

“NO!”

Dean’s eyes shut as he heard Carmen’s cries echo in the dark of the night, tears rolling down his own face as he tried to push away from the man in front him, but he had strength enough for a hundred men, something Dean couldn’t compete with no matter how much he tried.

“Please, please,” Dean pleaded as he looked at the man in front of him. “Please don’t hurt her, l-let her go…”

The man’s blue eyes stared down at him, with no sign that he was going to relent. He looked back at his henchmen as they fed on the woman lying on the floor like a pack of animals, a sly grin gracing his features. “On second thought, leave her alive.” He glanced back at Dean, the smile never leaving his face. “I have a better plan for these two.”

He brought his wrist to his mouth as his extended from his gums once more, a small stream of crimson running from his alabaster skin. Dean jerked back as he tried to pull away from the blue-eyed man’s hold once more, but he overpowered him, shoving his wrist against Dean’s lips, holding the back of his head in place. Dean groaned, pushing his hands against the man’s chest, but he remained in his stance like a marble statue. He felt the blood from the man’s wrist flow into his mouth, the bitter taste running over his tongue and slipping down his throat with ease. The man pulled away from him quickly, dropping him to the floor. Dean coughed and spat on the ground, wanting the disgusting tang to be out his mouth.

Dean tried to look up at the men as he breathed heavily, but his head felt heavy. His eyes began to hurt, stabbing sensations running through his sockets and into his brain. His skin felt as if it was ablaze, the feeling covering his entire body. A sharp ringing sounded in his ears, but just as soon as it started, it gave way to the sound of beating. A heart beating, slowly, as if it was about to fail.

“W-What have you-you done to me?” he asked, his hands shaking against the cobblestone as he looked up at them.

“Given you freedom,” the blue-eyed man replied, smirking. He held Carmen in his arms again, her eyes hooded as she hung limp in his grasp, her neck streaked with crimson. “Enjoy the first meal of your new life, Reverend.”

The blue-eyed man dropped Carmen to the ground, her body falling weakly against the stones. The men were gone, as if they had disappeared into thin air. Dean hadn’t seen where they had gone, his eyes solely on his wife. Her breath was shallow as her form convulsed, her eyes fluttering as she turned her head towards her husband. A sob left him as he crawled over to her, his face wet with his emotions. Somehow, he could hear her heart, her blood pumping.

“D-Dean,” she stuttered, her hand reaching out for him.

He stroked her head, comforting her as he leaned down, kissing her forehead. “Shh, my darling, don’t talk…”

His nostrils flared, the scent of the blood running down her neck overwhelming his senses. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he tried to understand what was happening, but he couldn’t. All he knew was that her blood smelled intoxicating, and somehow, he desired to know what it tasted like. He grunted in pain as he felt blinding pressure in his gums, his eyes locked on Carmen’s as he saw her body wracked with sobs, her brown orbs looking up at him in fear, sadness and yet, there was still love for him in her eyes.

“I-I don’t understand-” he tried to reach for his face, but with an unsteady hand she took his, her fingers curling around his.

“It’s okay… it’s okay,” she whispered. She gave him a small nod, smiling weakly. She knew what was about to happen.

“I-I can’t,” he cried, fighting all the new instincts that were rushing through him. He couldn’t hold on much longer, the smell and the sound of her blood pumping completely overpowering him.

“P-Please, Dean,” she begged, tears running down her face. “I can’t live like this…”

Dean breathed in deeply, averting his eyes up to the sky in a silent plea to his maker that maybe, he wouldn’t have to do this. That he would heal Carmen and cure him of this… this thing that he didn’t understand that was coursing through him. He closed his eyes, the sudden realization that he was alone and that the great entity above wasn’t going to help him. Refusing to look into his wife’s eyes as it would break him to his core, he wrapped his arms under her torso and held her close, taking in the paleness of her flesh. He bent down and sunk his teeth into her neck, a moan leaving him as the blood hit his taste buds. He felt everything heighten suddenly, his hearing, his sense of taste, his touch and his sight. He drank as he heard Carmen’s heartbeat slowly fade, and within seconds, it stopped.

He pulled back and felt his teeth retract, fresh tears rolling down his face as he looked upon Carmen’s features. Her eyes were open as she stared up at the sky above, her body lifeless. He lifted his hand and closed her eyes just as he shut his. He knew that God wouldn’t help him, but he prayed that his wife, the most beautiful soul he had the privilege of knowing, could reach paradise.

He stayed beside her in that alley until dawn arrived. He couldn’t bury her and he couldn’t wait for townspeople to discover them. Whatever was pumping through him was raging, and one taste of blood wasn’t enough. Carefully, he laid her down on the ground, his thumb stroking her cheek one last time.

He stood up, and without a glance in her direction, he walked away from her, from his old life. There was no hope left for him, and he somehow had to find a way to live this new life or a way to end it.

And in between trying to live or finding a way to die, he would track down the men responsible for ruining his happiness.

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