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#jensen ackles au
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Off and On Again
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This fic will cover my "Do I have to take it off again?" square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt will be in bold.❤️
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Summary: When Y/N wants to hang on to Jensen's shirt he has a very interesting way of getting it back.
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. All smut. Sexy af Jensen. Rockstar!Jensen. Definitely a warning. Slightly rough, unprotected PinV Sex. Oral (f. receiving.) Vaginal fingering. Slight orgasm denial (very light) and edging (sort of).
Pairings: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 1,619
A/N: Here is the next request for my second @jacklesversebingo card. This one is a slight AU - Rockstar!Jensen. It came from a sort of request from @envyaurora95 who shared this pic with me. So, I stole this prompt to fulfill that sort of request. 😊 I'm sorry that this didn't turn out exactly as we'd talked about. Hope you enjoy it anyway, my dear. ❤️
A/N 2: As always, this is a different version of Jensen from within the Multiverse who is single. Absolute and complete fiction, of course.
The beautiful dividers used here are from @talesmaniac89
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Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she looked around the room, disoriented for a moment.
It was a hotel room.
Was it morning or…?
Reality came floating back into her brain slowly and she realized the clock on the nightstand read 8:04 PM. It was evening. Then Jensen walked slowly out of the bathroom, a towel slung around his hips, and she remembered everything. They’d met in the bar the night before, and he’d picked her up with barely more than a smile. 
They’d come back to his room and he’d spent all night making her fall apart over and over - he’d been insatiable and Y/N had woken up in the morning with aching muscles and a desperate need for even more of him. She’d convinced him to ditch the interviews he was set to do that afternoon, and they’d barely left the bedroom all day. She’d fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion a few hours earlier.
Jensen noticed her waking now and smiled at her from the foot of the bed. “Good evening, beautiful.”
It was beyond ridiculous to feel shy after everything they’d done together, but she blushed anyway. She had a feeling that there was something in his smile that would always make her blush.
“I was gonna wake you soon.” Jensen continued as he dropped his towel and stepped into a pair of dark blue boxer briefs. Y/N tried not to stare as he tucked himself away in the snug underwear. But fucking hell that man was…very...naturally blessed.
He spoke again as he slid on a pair of black jeans. “I’ve gotta get to sound check. But I hope you’ll come to the show tonight.” He thumbed towards the desk behind him. “I left you a ticket. Backstage pass.” He said with a wink. 
Y/N nodded excitedly. “Yes, I’d love to come.”
His smile was soft. “Good.”
Y/N bit her lip and grabbed Jensen’s long-sleeved, black, denim shirt that sat at the end of the bed, pulling it on as she pointed towards the bathroom. “Gotta use the little girl’s room.” She said as she darted away.
When she came out a few minutes later, Jensen was fully dressed in his jeans and a gray t-shirt; he wore a watch on one hand and a couple of metal and beaded bracelets on the other, and a chain around his neck. His long hair was still slightly damp as he pushed it back off his forehead.
He was the sexiest thing Y/N had ever seen.
His smile was slow and sensual as he lifted a hand towards the shirt Y/N wore. “Gonna need that back now, sweetheart.”
Y/N arched a mischievous brow. “And what if I don’t give it back? Gonna make me?”
Jensen’s gaze became incredibly heated as he stared at her, slowly approaching her and forcing her to step backwards till she hit the wall.
“No, I won’t make you," he said silkily, "but if you don’t give it up, you’ll be sorry.” He said the last bit in a sing-song voice that made her giggle with anticipation while a shiver ran through her. 
“Really?” Y/N questioned cheekily. “And why is that?” 
Instead of answering Jensen pushed the sides of the shirt open, sliding his hands up over her ribcage to cup her breasts in both hands. He gently rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and Y/N gasped. They were extra sensitive after so many hours of Jensen’s mouth sucking and biting at them. 
He dropped his head to her left breast and licked the aching, slightly chafed bud, his warm tongue soothing and exhilarating at the same time. He let go of her right breast so he could slip one finger between her wet folds to circle her clit, making her moan and thump her head back against the wall. 
He sucked more purple marks into the soft skin of her breasts as he slid his thick middle finger into her body, making her cry out.
“Unf! Jensen, oh fuck, fuck!” She shouted as he pressed against her sweet spot.
He lowered himself to his knees and bent his head, dipping his tongue into her slick and finding and teasing her clit, flicking the tip back and forth against her. She bit into her lip, desperately trying not to scream out her need and brushing back the soft hair that fell across his forehead as he pleasured her.
She was on the brink, ready to topple over, all she needed was for Jensen to press against that sweet spot one more time. She was gasping and panting as she begged him to end her exquisite torment.
But suddenly he pulled back from her and licked his wet, swollen lips as he stared up at her, slick glistening on his beard and mustache. 
“Told you you’d be sorry, beautiful. Now give me my shirt back like a good girl, and when the show’s over, I promise I’ll let you finish.”
Y/N whimpered as Jensen stood up and wiped his hand over his mouth. He pushed the shirt from her shoulders and leaned down to speak low, breathing against the shell of her ear. 
“It’s gonna make me hard as hell onstage tonight, to know you’re watching in the wings, all wet and aching for me. Promise you won’t touch yourself? Wait for me.” He insisted and Y/N nodded, even though she pulsed with need.
“Good girl.” He praised as he shrugged into the shirt. He kissed her briefly and smiled against her lips. “See you after the show.”
***
The concert had been torture for Y/N. Watching Jensen onstage was like an hour and half of foreplay. Every note he sang and every move he made, shot fire straight to her core, making her muscles clench and ache from emptiness. She was so desperate to feel him move inside her again that there were moments she honestly thought she might come just from standing in the wings and watching him.
Finally the show ended and Y/N clapped and screamed with the rest of the fans as Jensen left the stage. Backstage was filled with clusters of people, managers, and backstage staff, VIPs and groupies, media personnel covering the tour; they all crowded into the limited space.
Jensen came through, with two big bodyguards on either side of him, pushing aside the groupies and media as Jensen smiled at them all and gave them a wave. But as he passed Y/N he grabbed her hand and yanked her along with him and she dashed a bit to keep up with his long stride. Finally he broke free of everyone and stepped through a nondescript black door. He pulled Y/N through it quickly and she was just barely able to recognize that it was a dressing room before Jensen slammed the door shut and spun her around to press her against it. 
He shoved up the short corduroy skirt she wore as he tugged her hips out towards him. He dug his fingers into her hips as he bent across her body and panted onto her shoulder. 
“I need to fuck you. Now. Say yes.”
“Fuck yes!” Y/N groaned. Jensen just pushed her panties aside so he could slam into her drenched cunt without hesitation.
“Ah fuck!” Jensen growled against her as he bit into the skin exposed by her off-the-shoulder sweater. 
Y/N pressed her forehead against the door and tried not to scream as Jensen slammed himself home again, angling his hips so his cockhead perfectly hit her sweet spot. But when he pulled out and did it again, Y/N couldn’t hold back, as the hours of denial and edging finally erupted in a seemingly endless climax.
As Y/N squeezed around him over and over, Jensen’s rhythm faltered and he thrust deep and hard one last time before shouting out his own pleasure and spilling into her, hot and thick.
Y/N knew they could likely be heard throughout the entire backstage area. But as Jensen slipped his hand around her hip to tap and rub at her clit, bringing on yet another mind-blowing orgasm as he finished, she couldn’t manage to make herself care.
***
The next morning Y/N was simply incapable of moving for a solid hour after she woke up. So, Jensen just ordered them room service and they ate in bed, sharing some more of their lives with each other and laughing and joking together. 
After a couple of hours of lounging and enjoying each other's company, Jensen had some phone calls he had to make and Y/N finally left the bed to go shower. The water felt heavenly and she was refreshed and far less exhausted when she stepped out. 
As she toweled herself off she noticed Jensen’s black, denim shirt hanging on a hook on the back of the door. With a smile, she slipped it on and did up a few buttons before walking back into the room. Jensen was just hanging up his phone and he looked up as she emerged. His eyes darkened and he lifted his phone, waving it slightly.
“That was my manager. I need to go downstairs and make up for all those interviews I skipped yesterday.”
Y/N pouted slightly but nodded, unbuttoning one of the buttons on his shirt. “Do I have to take it off again?”
Jensen stood up and stalked towards her. “Fuck no, I’ll do it.” 
He yanked the shirt open, ripping off a couple buttons. He kissed her deeply, and then pulled her forward to fall on top of him on the bed. “My manager’s gonna be pissed, but hey,” He shrugged and grinned wickedly, “it'll be worth it.”
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1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378 @mayafatimakhan @impala67rollingthroughtown @evznackles @suckitands33
2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl @slamminmine @roonthelittlespoon920
3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26 @slut-for-evans-stan
4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla @stoneyggirl2
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cevansbaby-dove · 3 months
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Keep on Ramblin
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Jensen ackles x bestfriend!Reader
So i have had this song in my mind all day and i wanted to write a cute one shot of it. Also might have a bit of drama sorry also will have jensen hitting on you!
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You walk into the studio and hear the soft music coming from the room behind the door.
You smile. Jensen has been busy making a new album for his band Radio Company.
You walk in and lean on the doorframe watching Jensen sing.
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Left town again for no reason Hit the floor and I was away Nothin' wrong 'bout how I'm livin' I know how long here I can lay
Time is only Passing if you think of it that way This life of crime is lonely But only if you let it in to stay
You see his partner singing too. You always loved hearing those two sing.
Keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Keep on ramblin'
Headed southbound for the season Cut a trail no one would know To hell I ride before I give in With the cavalry in tow
You softly walk in sitting on the couch watching him sing.
Time is only Passing if you think of it that way This life of crime is lonely Only if you make your getaway
To keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Just keep on ramblin'
Running headlong in the valley Toward the hills of San Miguel Pushing flat out for my freedom Left 'em all a tale to tell... Do tell
Keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Oh, keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Oh, keep on ramblin' (Ooh) Keep on ramblin' (Ooh)
Jensen says. 'that was great man did you get it?" Steve gives him a thumbs up. 'got it!" You clap. "Number one for sure!"
Jensen looks at you with a grin. "Hey darling i didn't know you were here" You smile. "i was trying not to get you guys to stop making great songs"
He walks over kissing your head. "no no you're okay baby" You smile at him more. "Hey steve" Steve smiles. 'hello Y/n How are you?"
"I'm great i feel relaxed now" Steve laughs. "me too" Jensen says. "Well we are on a fifteen minute break want to go grab lunch?"
"Sure!" Steve says. "Can i join?" You and jensen say. 'Sure" You smile. "come on it'll be fun!"
You three walk out and Dee walks to you and Jensen. "Hey baby" She hugs jensen looking over at you.
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"Hey Dee" You say with a smile. "we were going to have lunch want to go with?"
"Uh no thanks y/n" she smiles and looks at jensen and says. 'have fun" he smiles and she looks at you then walks away
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"uh..what was that about?" Jensen shrugs. "not sure"
You three go out for lunch and jensen asks you to sit by him. You slide into the booth and smile and say. "By the way boys I have someone who is possibly talking about wanting to have you sing at a comic con if your up for it"
Jensen nods placing his hand on your leg. "I'd love that!"
You look at Jensen and see he's looking right at you. "So uh...is that a yes?"
He nods turning to steve. "I'm down if you are" Steve smiles. "you bet i'm good with it!"
You three laugh and you say. "Great!"
After lunch you are walking to your car when Jensen says. "Hey Y/N wait up" You turn and smile. "Hey jens everything ok?" he nods. "Can we uh..talk?"
You nod. 'Um..sure what's up?" He says. "Alone i mean" Blinking you know exactly what he means. he's been hitting on you when Dee isn't around and even Steve sees it but he thinks nothng of it.
"sure" You two walk around a corner and jensen grabs your hands pinning you to the wall he's so close you can feel his breath on your ear. "Fuck the friends thing y/n you and i both know you want me" he said in a dark tone.
"What happened to talking? you ask with a smile. "oh baby we are talking...with our bodies."
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He places a soft kiss on your lips. Then kisses your neck next to your ear saying. "meet me at your place in an hour" he kisses you once more but harder making you need to catch your breath when he pulls away winking at you.
part 2?
taglist @shayshaybiscuit25 @cutedisneygrl @k-slla @jackles010378 @alternativeprincess94
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 years
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Dad’s Worst Nightmare: Party Night
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Summary: The reader gets a bad feeling while at a college party one night and tries to head home early. A face from the past reappears but a new one makes the night not so terrible...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader
Word Count: 2,800ish
Warnings: language, angst, fluff
A/N: Please enjoy! This part takes place ~2 years after the Bad Dreams timestamp!
_____
“Y/N,” said your dad through your headphones as you walked down the sidewalk of campus. You rolled your eyes and he huffed. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“How do you know I rolled-”
“Because I do, smartass. Now why exactly do you need an expensive dress?”
“Uh, it’s cute.”
“Y/N.”
“It’s really cute and mom said I could wear it to one of your like, Hollywood parties,” you said. “You know I need a dress.”
“Fine. How much is it?”
“A hundred dollars?” you said. He chuckled and you smiled as you walked. “Is that a yes?”
“We can handle a hundred. I thought you were gonna say it was a few thousand.”
“Are you nuts? I’m not you after all,” you said.
“Keep it up sassy. I look good in a fancy dress,” he said. You rolled your eyes, walking past a group of high schoolers on a campus tour. “How was class today?”
“Alright. I might go to a party tonight. It’s at Sara’s sorority,” you said. He was quiet on the other end and you swallowed. “Is that cool?”
“You’re twenty one sweetheart. You don’t need to ask permission let alone tell me.”
“I know,” you said. “Just don’t want you to worry if I don’t come home tonight.”
“Thanks,” he said softly. “Just do your homework before you get drunk with your friends.”
“I know dad. I’m headed to my car now. Gonna stop home quick to drop off my backpack and change.”
“Be safe. I gotta run and catch my flight,” he said.
“Can we get brunch tomorrow?”
“Yeah we can go get something. Have fun tonight.”
“I will. I’ll see you in the morning dad.”
It was close to midnight, the party still going strong when a shiver ran down your spine. You spun around the crowded living room, Sara catching your face from across the room. 
“What’s wrong?” she said in your ear, pulling you into the kitchen where it was a bit quieter. “You have that look.”
“I don’t know. Just a weird feeling.”
“Did you drink?” she asked and you shook your head, holding up your bottle of water. “Eat anything?”
“No. Everybody ate the pizza. S’just a weird feeling,” you said, Sara forcing a smile. “I think I’m gonna head home.”
“Okay,” she said, giving you a quick hug. “Want me to walk with you to your car?”
“No I’m literally four houses down. I’m fine. Have fun okay? That tall blonde guy has been watching you all night. Have some fun with him for me?” you said. She rolled her eyes and you giggled. “Is he library guy?”
“Yeah. Parties aren’t really his thing,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. 
“Yeah but he came,” you said, flashing her a wink before you were headed back to the living room, going up to the guy. “Hey you’re Kyle right?”
“Uh yeah. Sara’s friend?” he asked. You smiled and looked back at her.
“Yeah. So I think you should ask her out and go to lunch with her tomorrow. There’s this hole in the wall mexican place on the west side, Memi’s. It’s her favorite since we were kids. I highly suggest it,” you said, Sara hiding her face when you both looked back at her.
“I don’t know. Sara’s...she’s kinda...out of my league. Sorority girl and all.”
“Yeah. But you’re library guy and she really likes library guy. She’s less sorority girl than you think,” you said. “Just a thought.”
You gave Sara a wave before heading out and jogging down the front steps. You felt the shiver return and quickly pulled your keys from your pocket, skirting down to the sidewalk. It was fairly empty, a few people straggling and going past up to the party. You were a house away from your car when you heard a pair of footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, freezing when you caught the face in the street lamp.
He narrowed his eyes and started to move. You took off and unlocked your car but he was too close for you to get inside without him catching up. Instead you booked it across the street and ran up the sidewalk until you were near one of the frat houses, a guy walking up it with his back to you.
He glanced over his shoulder when he heard feet pounding pavement. He moved aside for you before turning and slamming into Jimmy, knocking him back to the ground. You tried to catch your breath, the guy pinning Jimmy to the ground, a few frat guys by the front of the house walking over.
“No. You’re not going anywhere,” said the guy as Jimmy tried to squirm free. “Ben! Call campus security! Tell ‘em some douchebag was trying to attack some girl.”
“Are you okay?” asked one of the guys, walking towards you. You stepped back, the guy pining Jimmy down, looking up and at you.
“Eric hang back. She’s scared,” he said. “You’re okay?”
You nodded, staring over at the group of guys. You rubbed your bare arms on the cool fall night, the guy kneeling down on Jimmy looking up at the frat house.
“Here,” he said, sitting up when another one came over to help hold Jimmy. He peeled off his flannel and held it out, a soft smile on his face. “It’s alright.”
You forced yourself to step closer to grab it, quickly backing up again and putting your arms through the sleeves. You wrapped it around yourself, flinching when Jimmy tried to break free again.
“Try that again and see what happens,” said the guy. You swallowed and heard a siren in the distance, the guy still smiling at you. “You’re safe. I promise.”
“Thank you,” you said half an hour later as Taylor walked you back to your car. “I really, really can’t begin to tell you how thankful I am.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, stopping at your door.
“Y/N.”
“Well Y/N I’m sure if you were my size you’d have done the same thing for me,” he said, glancing at your car. “Sure you’re okay to drive home? I’ll wait with you if you want to call a friend to take you.”
“I’m about to have a very long night. Somebody else driving me home won’t make it any easier,” you said. He blinked and you looked down. “That wasn’t just a random guy. He um, he’s bothered me before. This isn’t over for me.”
“That’s why you were so scared of me and my friends.”
“It was really bad when he was in my life before. Really bad,” you said, wiping off your face with the sleeve of his flannel you still wore. You started to take it off and he shook his head with a smile.
“Keep it. My lucky flannel actually. Bad stuff doesn’t happen when you got that shirt on,” he said.
“I need several thousand of these then,” you said, sniffling some. He cocked his head, almost moving his hand but keeping it by his side. “I got to go home.”
“Our party is winding down. Do you want to hang out for a minute until you’re not so upset to drive?” he asked.
“I don’t think I should. I don’t have good luck with parties,” you said. He chuckled and nodded. 
“Drive safe, Y/N,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”
You opened the door and paused, Taylor waiting on the other side for you to get in.
“You good?” 
“This is the last good night of sleep my parents are going to have because of me. Again,” you said. You stared at him and swallowed. “I can’t go home.”
“I got a safe place you can crash if you want,” he said. He held out a hand and you carefully took it, shutting your car door and locking it up. You crossed the street, walking back up the sidewalk with him. “There’s an empty bedroom at the top of the stairs. Kinda a um…”
“The fuck room?” you asked and he laughed, shaking his head.
“No, no. I mean I’m sure people have fucked in there but it’s more of a...guest room for those who need it. It’s safe I promise.”
“You’re sure?” you asked, turning up the path to the frat house with him.
“I’ll sleep outside on the floor if you want,” he said. You shook your head, heading inside, not too many people in there, a few guys throwing some trash into bags. “You want to go to bed or stay up a bit?”
“I don’t know,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “Sorry.”
“Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t be sorry. We can sit out on the back porch for a bit. I can bore you to sleep with how fascinating a person I am.”
You smiled, Taylor taking you back and outside, a few guys sitting around a bonfire in the backyard.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you said, Taylor smiling as he grabbed a few lawn chairs and pulled them away from the fire and over towards the backdoor.
“Neither do I,” he said. “We got that in common already.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled, sitting down in a chair, Taylor ducking inside and returning with a thick wool blanket, handing it to you. He had a beer in his hand too and a bottle of water, holding them both out before you took the water.
“Any particular reason you wanted to share that fact?” he asked with a smirk.
“My last boyfriend was great but he was in Canada and I moved back here for school and I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea here. Like I’m absolutely not looking for a boyfriend. At all.”
“Well I’m not looking for a girlfriend,” he said, cracking open his beer with another smile.
“Don’t have that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“That cocky frat guy look.”
“Y/N the only thing I want is for you to feel safe tonight, not get in your pants. I’m totally a virgin by the way. Never even had a girlfriend.”
“That by choice?” you asked. 
“Oh no. I want sex,” he laughed.
“You live in a frat house.”
“Yeah and call me old fashioned but I want to love the woman that I have sex and do that stuff with. I’m not saving myself or waiting for marriage but I want it to be with someone I care about, you know?” he said.
“You’re a horrible excuse for the frat guy stereotype you know.”
“Part of my charm,” he said. He glanced down, a little shy like and you burrowed into the blanket.
“That’s a good thing,” you said. 
“Still single.”
“Still saved my ass,” you said. He nodded and smiled, looking up at the dark sky above. “I’m a virgin too you know. I have a similar philosophy when it comes to dating and sex.”
“You’re too pretty to never have found a guy you loved,” he said.
“Didn’t love him enough to want to have sex with him. I kinda come with a lot of this hidden baggage Taylor.”
“He didn’t like that?”
“I was nineteen. I wasn’t ready. The baggage kind of…”
“That guy tonight?” he asked. You nodded, Taylor taking a sip from his can. “He’s not so scary.”
“You don’t know what he’s capable of. If you knew him like I did, you’d be scared.”
“Maybe he’s scary. But baggage from him? That’s not so scary,” he said.
“How would you know?”
“Baggage is just crap you gotta carry. But it’s not you. So maybe you got baggage but that’s just extra crap. At the end of the day it’s just you and you don’t seem so scary,” he said.
“You’ve never seen me at six in the morning,” you said with a quiet chuckle.
“I’m sure she’s just fine,” he said. You turned your head and caught Taylor looking back, dark brown eyes staring into yours.
“I was drugged at a party in high school. It was an attempted kidnapping for ransom. Jimmy and his brothers and dad were all involved. Eventually they did take me and my dad, had us on the run when we escaped. They went to prison but Jimmy went to juvie because he was underage and didn’t have as active of a role in the more severe stuff. Apparently he’s still pissed and looking for revenge. How’s that for baggage?” you said, sitting back in your seat. 
“Sounds like you’re kinda badass,” he said. You snapped your head in his direction, a smile on his lips. “That doesn’t scare me. Like I said, that’s just baggage, it’s not you.”
“It should. Jimmy is just going to come back again.”
“Well let him,” he said, giving you a hard look. “I’m bigger than he is last I checked. He pulls any shit he’ll be tried as an adult. I’m sure he’ll get some time for what he pulled tonight. So relax. I said you’re safe.”
“I-”
“You’re safe. Relax Y/N. He’s not going to bother you tonight and tomorrow you can talk to your parents and figure everything else out but tonight you’re good. So stop spinning your wheels and let me distract you alright?” he said. You sunk down in your seat, pulling the blanket up under your chin. 
“Okay,” you said quietly. “Just for a little while until I get tired.”
“Whatever you want Y/N.”
“Thank you,” said your dad to the lawyer the next afternoon after you were walking out of the court house. He was barely out of the building before his fists were clenched. “I could strangle the little shit. I could and get away with it. Parents snap all the time in court.”
“Honey,” said your mom with a sigh as you walked down the steps ahead of them. “He broke his restraining order. He’s going away for at least-”
“Taylor?” you said, spotting him on a bench, looking through his phone. He stood up and smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“Your lawyer called me and asked me to come down in case they needed me to say anything but they didn’t need me,” he said, your parents walking over. 
“You the frat guy?” asked your dad. He nodded, your dad returning it. “Thank you.”
“It was no big deal. Not a fan of douchebags,” he said.
“Still. Thank you,” said your dad. You waved them to go ahead, Taylor smiling when they were out of hearing distance.
“He doesn’t seem as overprotective as you said.”
“You didn’t have the joy of watching him freak out this morning,” you said. “Thanks for coming down. I really appreciate it.”
“I’m happy to help, really,” he said. 
“I gotta run. We have to talk with the lawyer again,” you said, taking a step backwards. “You um, you want to hang out later?”
“I don’t have your number,” he said, taking out his phone. You put in your contact and handed it back, giving him a smile. “Tonight?”
“Text me,” you said, nearly tripping in your heels. He smirked and you rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything. I’ll try in a little bit when you’re done with that lawyer stuff,” he said.
“Thanks. I’ll uh, see you later,” you said, quickly spinning around. You caught up with your parents at the car, getting a pair of smirks from them both as you buckled up. “What?”
“Is his dad a cop?” asked your dad.
“Taylor!” you shouted, opening the back door as he started heading down the sidewalk. He spun around fast and you leaned out of the seat. “What’s your dad do?”
“Huh?”
“What’s your dad’s job?” you shouted.
“He’s a postman?” he said.
“He’s good,” chuckled your dad.
“You’re good!” you said, giving him a thumbs up.
“You are so weird you know that right?” he called.
“Yeah...but you like that,” you said. He smiled and you gave him a quick wave before you were back in the car and your dad pulled out. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said with a smile. “I like your friend is all.”
“Why?” you asked.
“You are so not as shook up as you should be and he’s probably a good reason for it,” said your mom. “So we like him.”
“Well he’s...I don’t know...he’s just my friend,” you said, catching them share a look. 
“Okay. He’s just a friend,” said your dad, your mom reaching over and taking hold of his hand. “Alright. Long day is almost over. A few more papers and then you can invite your friend over for dinner if you want.”
“Thanks,” you said quietly. “For not you know, going crazy protective.”
“Oh I will be. He’s kinda got a good track record of doing that himself so far is all,” he said. “Just one teensy favor.”
“No parties for a while?” 
“That’s my girl.”
_______
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waywardnerd67 · 1 year
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Cupcake Wars
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Title: Cupcake Wars Summary: Jensen has to team up with his rival for a charity event. Paring: Jensen Ackles x Reader Word Count: 1260 Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Fluff Square Filled: Baker!Jensen AU Bingo Card: @spnchristmasbingo​ A/N: None
Check Out: 2022 Christmas Bingo Masterlist
Jensen arrived on set for the filming of a new charity event in Austin. The who’s who of bakers were going to be teaming up with one another in a competition where the charity of their choice would receive ten thousand dollars. Their partners would be decided by blind draw and would have one week to bake a new cupcake creation. Walking in, he waved to the other participants, including his good buddy Jason Manns.
“Jay! How the hell are you? It’s been forever since we’ve hung out.”
He hugged his friend, “I know. Your bakery food truck is traveling everywhere nowadays. I’m surprised you were able to come here and participate. At least now I know who I need to get as my partner.”
The door opened as all eyes landed on the last baker of the competition and Jensen groaned.
“Seriously?”
Jason chuckled, “You know, she’s not a bad person once you get to know her and her cheesecakes are to die for.”
Jensen rolled his eyes as (Y/N) walked past him without a word or glance. She waved to Jason continuing towards another group of bakers.
“Oh yeah, she’s a real peach.”
The rival between Jensen and (Y/N) was famous in Austin. Their bakeries were across the street from one another. At first, it had been as simple as supply and demand. His business was there first and he wanted her to move further down 6th street. Even suggesting the building next to his best friend’s bar. In return, she held the biggest grand opening event in history and shut down all of 6th street. From that moment on, Jensen and (Y/N) did not get along.
The show runner came out to discuss how the blind draw would take place and filming schedule for each set of partners. He was thankful to know that the blind draw would not be filmed and their partners would be announced to the world when they filmed their episode.
There would be six pairs of bakers and they were down to the last four to be paired up. Jensen and Jason were still holding out hope to work together. Jensen was already planning to mix Jason’s signature smoky whiskey truffle sauce with one of his famous salted caramel and peanut butter cupcakes.
“Our next pairing will be Jensen Ackles from Batter Splatter and…”
Jensen crossed his fingers praying to the baking gods that Jason’s name was announced.
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N) from CheesyCakes!”
“What the…”
“Son of a…”
Jensen and (Y/N) both said slowly turning to look at one another. He should have known the universe would not cooperate with him.
“Bakers, you will meet with your partners and our producer will be around to let you know when they will be at your shops to film.”
(Y/N) walked over to him, “Let’s get this over with.”
He rolled his eyes hearing Jason wishing him luck as he followed her towards a table to sit at. If Jensen was being perfectly honest, (Y/N) was definitely easy on the eyes and knew her stuff. It was her attitude that made her insufferable.
“Look, either of us want to work with the other.” She started with.
“Agreed.”
She rolled her eyes, “Then this is how it will go. You bake your famous cupcake and I’ll make my famous cheesecake cupcake. Wham-bam, display and good to go.”
“That won’t win the competition. You do want to win, right?” He asked, arching his eyebrow at her.
He took note of the shaky breath she took in looking up at him. She bit the corner of her lip and suddenly he found himself curious to know what was running through her mind.
“Of course I want to win. My charity is important to me.”
“As is mine. We need to push aside this stupid, petty, rivalry and work together.”
The producer came at that moment discussing they would be filming four days, two each at their bakeries. They had one week to come up with the recipe and design they wanted to use to represent their charities.
“Oh wow, well at least you have it easier than the other bakeries. You both have the same charity of Out Youth Austin. Great choice. The day before filming I will come out to meet with you both and go over the exact schedule. Good luck.”
(Y/N) stared at him, “Out Youth?”
“Yes. I have a lot of the kiddos use my bakery as a meeting spot for when their schools will not allow them to meet. I make sure they all know they have an open invitation to a safe and welcoming spot.”
For the first time since meeting her, (Y/N) wore a genuine smile on her face. Jensen had not been prepared for how that smile would make his heart skip and jump within his chest. Or how he would do anything to see it again.
“That’s amazing.” She cleared her throat, “So, let’s meet up tomorrow if you have time to come up with a game plan.”
He nodded, “Sounds good. How about the little coffee shop on 6th, my treat.”
“It’s a date.” Her eyes snapped to him, “I mean, it’s a meeting… uh yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He chuckled watching her walk away quickly.
The week leading up to them filming, Jensen met with (Y/N) before their stores opened, after they closed and any time either of them had a brilliant idea pop into their heads. It was the night before their meeting and they were making a test batch of their cupcakes.
“Be careful, cheesecake batter is sensitive. We have to be precise.” (Y/N) warned him for the millionth time.
“I know. Believe it or not, I went to school for this and have made cheesecake before and successfully. Trust me.”
She scoffed, “Maybe I should do this.”
When (Y/N) tried to push him out of the way, Jensen grabbed a hold of her shoulders and gently forced her back to her spot. For a moment they were mere inches from one another and then tension pressing between them had a quiet gasp escaping from her lips. The effect it had on him was one that he had been battling all week working with her.  
“If you have to let me do something. You can’t do it all.”
“O-Okay…” She ran her hands down her thighs clasping her hands over her knees.
Now it was his turn to let out a shaky breath as he poured the batter into the cupcake pan and slid it into the oven. He left it up to her to decide when they would be ready to pull out. Nearly three hours later, their final product was plated and they were digging into one of the cupcakes.
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“Hot damn!”
“Oh my god…” They both started laughing.
Suddenly (Y/N) hugged him, “We did it! We really did it!”
He looked down into her beautiful eyes and wide grin on her face. Next thing he knew, his lips were pressed against hers, tasting hints of caramel and cheesecake from their creation.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He backed away from her.
“Jensen, don’t…”
He turned around in time for her to press herself against him, bringing his lips to hers. He lifted her up onto the counter sliding the remaining cupcakes on the floor with a loud crash. Not long after, their clothes joined the mess ending their rivalry once and for all.
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rupertgayes · 10 months
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thanks guys
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zepskies · 7 days
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Calculated Risks
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.
AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)
Word Count: 7K
Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.
Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
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In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.
“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”
The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.
Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.
“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.
You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.
Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.
But again, he was holding firm.
He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.  
“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”
“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.
“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”
Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”
You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.
“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”
“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”
Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.
You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready. 
Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all. 
He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job. 
“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”
Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.
“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”
Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.
“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt. 
You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.
“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”
You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest. 
“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”
The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.
In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.
Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”
That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.
“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”
He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.
“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”
Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.
“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”
Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”
Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.
“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”
His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…
Until you heard a whimper.
You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.
Your heart broke.
“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.
Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.
“Lila?” he prodded.
He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.
You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.
“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”
When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.
You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.
Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.
She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).
Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.
The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.
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Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.
You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.
“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.
All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.
“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.
Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.
You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.
“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him. 
First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions. 
So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.
You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.
“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked. 
After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”
You couldn’t help a rueful smile. 
“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”
She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.
And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.
“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.
She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.
With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.
“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.
“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.
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“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.
“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”
He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.
“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”
“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”
The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.
“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”
Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.
“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.
“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”
For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.
He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.
“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”
At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.
Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.
Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly. 
“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”
“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.
Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.
“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.
“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.
“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased. 
“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes. 
“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”
“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?” 
“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.” 
“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.
You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”
You snorted at that.
“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.
You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.
You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.
And we’re off.
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Lila wasn’t having a good day. 
She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.
She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).
She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.
Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom. 
“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.
Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later. 
But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.  
After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep. 
Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.
And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?
Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck. 
She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go. 
She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.
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The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage. 
A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody. 
You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.
You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.
Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.
You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.
“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.
“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”
“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.
“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”
You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”
“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.
You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.
You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process. 
But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of. 
“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way. 
It all happened so fast. 
You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.
Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex. 
Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.
You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.
Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.
The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.
His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.
“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.
“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”
“How? Being a human shield?”
“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek. 
“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”
This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.
“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.” 
You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker. 
“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened. 
You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.
You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.  
As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.
His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk. 
He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms. 
Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.
Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex. 
“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.
“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.” 
Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot. 
“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said. 
“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath. 
While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.
If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad. 
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“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”
Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you. 
Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.
“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said. 
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“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection. 
“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled. 
But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand. 
“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”
He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.
“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out. 
Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”
“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.
“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”
“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe. 
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Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear. 
They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.
He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid? 
She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes. 
“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”
“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here. 
“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked. 
“L…Lila,” she said. 
“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”
“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand. 
Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad… 
After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile. 
“Let’s go find him.”  
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Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms. 
“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.” 
Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him. 
“Daddy!”
Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe. 
“Let her go,” he growled lowly. 
Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.
“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”
“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.
Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.
“Ben,” you uttered. 
“I’ve got this,” he said to you.
“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”
“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”
Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.
Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go. 
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”
“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall. 
Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.
“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”
He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.
It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.
You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.
It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.
Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor. 
While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.
Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.
Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt. 
For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer. 
When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. 
“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.
“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.
Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture. 
You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.
“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit. 
There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.
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You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner. 
Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb. 
“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.
Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.
“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.
You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say. 
“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said. 
Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.  
“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said. 
You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.
Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh. 
“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.
"Mhmm," Lila agreed.
You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.
Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.
"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.
Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”
“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”
She clung to him and made a sound of refusal. 
You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear. 
“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked. 
Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained. 
But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.
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Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.
Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…
He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips. 
That was sort of how you felt inside.
“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence. 
You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that. 
“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”
Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.
“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”
Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.
“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.
“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”
Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.
“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”
You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.
“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”
Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.
“Come ‘ere,” he said.
You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.  
You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.
“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."
He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.
“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”
It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question. 
Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.
You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.
When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe. 
Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world. 
“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”
After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.
“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.
You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”
He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly. 
“I love you,” you whispered a reminder. 
Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while. 
He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.
“I love you too,” he said.
With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.
“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.
He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest. 
For once, you didn’t argue with him.  
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AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘
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jordanmoreau · 5 months
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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.
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pinkiebieberpie · 1 year
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DATING DEAN WINCHESTER:
- he may not seem like it, but he is the biggest fan of cuddling,
- dean loves doing research with you, mostly because it always comes with lots of kisses,
- he is always touching you, he adores little, gentle and innocent touches,
- he also loves playing with your hair,
- and let's be honest he loves when you are playing with his hair; his head on your lap, just relaxing and you touching his hair, that's heaven for him,
- long car rides in the middle of the night!! talking about anything and everything, eating burgers at midnight, enjoying your time together,
- also making out in the impala ALL THE TIME; you sitting on top of dean, his hands on your ass, and of course it can get steamy,
- he loves cooking with you, when you two are alone in the bunker you always do that with a music, so you can sing and dance in the kitchen,
- dean is melting when you are on top of him during sex, he's a sub, but that doesn't mean he can't be more dominant,
- he just needs to be close to you, touching your hands, putting them above your head when he is the one making you feel good,
- this man loves taking photos of you: when you are doing chores around the bunker, when you are doing research, when you are reading, sleeping, when you are doing anything really,
- he also has a polaroid of you in his wallet,
- taking photos with you naked in bed after sex? yes.
- i was talking about cooking, but can you imagine baking with him?? "babe, can we make a pie?", "dean, again??", "i love pies and i love baking with you 😇😇" he's just a big, adorable baby sometimes,
- dean is an overprotective boyfriend even though you can take care of yourself,
- you are the one always winning rock-paper-scissors with him,
- he loves when you are wearing his clothes, especially when you are sleeping in his shirts,
- lazy mornings with him = breakfast in bed and big cups of coffee;
supernatural masterlist ++ tagging my sun @fleurfairie ☀️
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mischieviem · 4 months
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On a whim and because my gf @sayosweeti is very much into dayshift at Freddy's right now I decided to draw Dave and Jack as if portrayed by Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles... merry Christmas ig
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jackles010378 · 4 months
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Flannel of Desire
(Dean Winchester X you)
(mentions of intimacy nothing too graphic)
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Dean catches you wearing his flannel and likes what he sees 😏
Dean walked into the kitchen of the bunker, his eyes scanning the room for a snack. As he turned the corner, his gaze fell upon you, wearing one of his favorite flannel shirts, sleeves rolled up as you diligently cleaned the countertops. Something inside him stirred, a feeling of attraction that he couldn't ignore.
He leaned against the doorframe, watching you intently, his mind racing with thoughts and desires. The way the shirt hugged your curves, accentuating your every movement, sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't deny the rush of arousal that surged through him, and he knew he had to make a move.
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Slowly and deliberately, Dean approached you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Hey there, I see you've found my shirt," he said, his voice low and husky. You looked up, surprise flickering in your eyes.
"Yeah," you replied, a faint blush tinting your cheeks. "I hope you don't mind. It was just lying around, and I couldn't resist."
Dean took a step closer, his body now mere inches away from yours. He reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the fabric of the flannel against your arm, sending tingles of electricity through your skin. "Trust me, I don't mind at all," he whispered, his voice heavy with desire.
The chemistry between you intensified, the air in the room thick with anticipation. Dean's hand moved from your arm to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His hypnotic green eyes locked with yours, a mixture of vulnerability and longing shining through.
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Without another word, Dean's lips met yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within both of you. Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other, the taste and warmth of each other's mouths becoming intoxicating.
Desire surged through your bodies as you stumbled towards the bedroom, leaving the kitchen forgotten and the cleaning abandoned. The intensity between you was undeniable, an electric current drawing you closer with every touch, every caress.
Inside the bedroom, clothes were shed like a trail of breadcrumbs, each discarded garment fueling the excitement. The plaid shirt, once innocent, was now a symbol of provocative desire. The soft fabric slipped off your body, revealing your vulnerability and awakening a raw hunger in Dean.
The room became a canvas of discovery, as your bodies moulded into one, exploring one another with unbridled passion. Skin met skin, creating a symphony of sighs and moans that echoed through the walls. Pleasure surged through every nerve ending, the connection between you reaching new heights with each passing moment.
In that moment of pure intimacy, there was no denying the magnetic pull that had brought you together. Dean, with his rugged charm and smoldering passion, had become an insatiable force in your life. It was a night of unforgettable pleasure, a culmination of desire that left you both breathless, sated, and yearning for more.
The following morning, Dean woke up, stretching his arms reaching out for you, only to realise you had gone. He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of joggers and a hoodie and went in search of you. As he made his way down the halls, he could hear you humming. Yet again he found you in the kitchen preparing breakfast for you both, wearing nothing but his flannel. Leaning against the doorframe again he looked you up and down "you know y/n, you keep wearing my shirts, we're never gonna make it out of my room". You placed the wooden spoon on the counter top and turned around slowly to look at Dean "is that a promise Winchester" you replied with a smirk. It took a second for Dean to walk over to you, tugging you close to him and pressing his lips to yours in a fiery kiss. Pulling away leaving you breathless "oh it most certainly is, I will gladly give you all my shirts to wear" he said with a huge smile, kissing you once more.
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In that moment, you knew that his flannel had been the catalyst, bringing you both together in a whirlwind of ecstasy. A reminder that sometimes, unexpected encounters can ignite a fire that burns brighter than anything either of you could have imagined.
TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck
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yourmomxx · 10 months
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Family Line
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father of mine masterlist
summary: the hunt for the monster starts. We find out what happened all those years ago between Dean and his daughter.
warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, descriptions of blood, descriptions of murder, this is written like an episode of Supernatural
word count: 8,5k
a/n: we did it, guys! this is the last part of the father-of-mine series. I’m really sorry about the late upload, but I do hope it was worth the wait! This might be the ending of this series, but not quite the ending of the story … thank you all so much for sticking around and supporting this story, sequels and prequels about dean and his daughter will definitely come!
pt1 pt2 pt3
Sioux Falls 2007
It was late at night, and in Bobby Singer’s Junkyard, the lights were still on. Accompanying the chirping tunes of the cicadas, a fading pop song from somewhere in the ‘70s was trailing out the windows.
On the small wooden table in the kitchen, Dean and Sam Winchester had spread out a multitude of lore books found in Bobby’s bookshelf, some worn out, some torn, and Sam was currently leaned over a particularly ugly-written paragraph dedicated to the magical use of a pan’s flute.
“Dean, I can hear you being silent.” Sam raised his head to look his older brother in the eye. “What is it?”
Dean shrugged, threw a look at the numerous variations of old books about supernatural creatures laid out in front of them, then at his little brother.
“You’re overworking yourself, Sammy,” Dean pointed out. The keyboard clicked as he typed something on the laptop.
“Dean, we’ve been over this,” Sam said. “I’m just trying to find a way for you to not die. You can’t exactly blame me for that.”
“Yes, exactly, we’ve been over it,” Dean countered. “And I told you there’s no way around it. I made a deal, that’s it. Period, no refunds.”
Sam clenched his jaw. “Well, I don’t want that to be it.” He muttered under his breath.
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when they heard the sound of tiny footsteps over the floor.
Dean perked up and turned his head.
“Hey, my little love.”
A while ago, the soft tone in his brother’s words would have caught Sam completely off guard. By now, he was already getting used to the way Dean’s eyes had a different look in them – one of pure love – and he spoke with a softness as if his words alone should wrap their recipient up in satin cloth.
Sam turned around to look at who Dean was talking to, and was not surprised to see a small girl trutting towards them, little legs still uncoordinated after only just waking up. Her small fists were rubbing her squinted eyes, the light in the living room must be blinding her.
Y/N made her way over to Dean and made grabby hands up at him.
Dean chuckled and picked his daughter up under her arms, placing her carefully on his thigh as she nuzzled into his dark flannel shirt.
Sam smiled at the contrast of Dean’s shirt, and her bright yellow children’s nightgown with the washed out Led Zeppelin-logo printed on.
Dean’s big hand was rubbing circles on her back, as he craned his neck to bow it down to her.
“What are you doing awake so late, sweetheart?” He hushed.
Y/N nuzzled her nose into his neck. “’d a bad dream,” she mumbled.
Sam could see the emotion cross over his brother’s face for a brief second as he made eye contact with him.
They both knew that this could – would – happen. That little girl had been through so much already, at her young age, had seen and lost things no child should ever see or lose.
They both had known that nightmares would probably eventually start haunting her, but yet, they had still not been prepared for when it was the time.
Dean didn’t know what he should be feeling, his daughter had had a nightmare, and all he wanted was to wrap his arms around her, keep her there, and kill everything in her way to becoming happy.
But he knew he couldn’t do that. And that’s why he wanted to, so much more.
“Really?” He asked instead, hand not leaving her back. “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”
“Everybody was leaving me,” Y/N sniffled, small fist rubbing her nose. “You, Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam, Grandpa Bobby.” Another sniffle.
“I was all alone.”
Dean felt like sobbing. A heavy weight had latched itself on his heart. Oh, his little girl. How much he loved her.
“Sweetheart, it was just a bad dream,” he promised to her. “We are not going to leave you alone, I swear.”
Y/N pulled her face from the crook of his neck and looked up at him with red rimmed eyes.
“Pinky promise?” She asked.
Dean lifted his free hand and linked his pinky finger with hers. “Pinky promise,” he said.
Something told him he had made a mistake. But he couldn’t care right now.
Still, he felt like a liar.
“Now,” he said, a conspiratorial tone in his words, “What do you say we get you back to bed and I stay until you fall asleep, hm? How does that sound?”
Y/N didn’t fuss long about it, she just nodded her head and nuzzled closer to him.
Dean understood the silent command, and lifted her into his arms as he stood up. “Alright. Let’s go.”
Sam looked after them as they disappeared up the stairs. Now alone, he turned his attention back to his research. Why he was reading everything about the dog Cerberus right now, he couldn’t quite decipher, but he was grasping onto every straw.
A few minutes passed by, and Dean was still not back. Another few, another few.
Sam frowned as he looked at the clock on the wall. 5.13 in the evening. Sam realized now that the clock was broken.
Curtly, he stood up from the table and climbed the stairs to the bedrooms.
The door to Y/N’s room was open, hiding the colored sign she had written her name on (with Dean’s help) to inform everyone of her territory.
Careful to be quiet, Sam stepped closer to the threshold, peeking into the dark room. A dim night light in the form of a crescent moon was burning on the nightstand. In the bed laid a small bundle of blankets and stuffed animals, which Sam could only guess was Y/N.
Next to her, holding the girl in his arms, Sam spotted Dean, probably holding on for dear life on the edge of the narrow bed.
Sam smiled at them.
Through the silence, a soft, hummed melody reached Sam’s ears, and he perked up.
He knew that song from somewhere, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Na-na na na. Nana na-a.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, are you singing her Smells like Teen Spirit?”
Dean looked at him, grinning. “Yeah. It’s a classic.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Sam was the stupid one.
“I mean, look at her,” he said, his gaze shifting to his daughter again. “She’s gonna be a badass one day. Right? One day, you’re gonna be as badass and cool as your daddy.”
Oh yeah, that girl was out like a light.
Sam just shook his head chuckling. “All right, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
Dean didn’t answer him, but he knew he heard him.
A few minutes after Sam had left, currently sitting at the kitchen table again, starting a new chapter of the same book, Dean came downstairs.
Wordlessly, he took his seat across from Sam, and pulled one of the lore books closer to him.
And though he had an idea where his brother’s new sense of determination came from, Sam didn’t say a word when Dean started reading.
༺。° ୨❀୧ °。༻
Now
When you called, for a brief second Sam was worried that Dean was gonna crash the car. The way his face morphed into shock, concern and then anger, while he was talking to you on the phone had his little brother worried.
After you hung up, Sam pretended not to notice the way Dean pushed further into the gas pedal.
The first rays of the morning sunlight made their way over the hills, when Sam and Dean arrived at the Group Home. Dean didn’t bother with a neat parking maneuver, and just turned the motor off, then made his way with fast steps over to the castle.
Sam trailed behind.
They had no problem entering the building, Maria had given them an official key card for their investigations. Dean stormed down the hallways with a fast step, as if he had memorized the entire way by heart.
Sam wouldn’t blame him.
You were sitting on your bed when they came in. Or more, cowering there.
Sam was all too familiar with the look of disturbed terror in your eyes, even when you firmly avoided looking at either of them.
“Y/N?” Dean moved a step forward, stretching his hand out towards you as if to soothingly touch your shoulder, but hesitated in his movement and pulled away.
Sam threw him a worried look that Dean didn’t seem to catch.
“What happened?”
Your fingers were continuously drumming against your knee pulled close to your chest.
“’d a bad dream,” you mumbled. Sam could hear the fear in your voice. Dean sat down in your chair opposite the bed.
“When I woke up, there was …” You swallowed and hardly squinted your eyes. “I don’t know what it was. Looked like two yellow … eyes.”
Sam couldn’t help the disgusted twist his face made at the word. He couldn’t imagine waking up to something like this.
Dean exchanged a look with him. Your story confirmed their theory even more.
On the bed, you had gone quiet again. Your fingers were still drumming an uneven pattern on your skin.
This didn’t make sense. This didn’t make sense. She was dead, Cass was dead. Roy was dead. Dean Winchester was here. He left you, and now he was here, but not for you, no, but for Roy. They were all dead.
And you were next.
“Have you ever heard of an alp?” Your head snapped up as Dean’s question pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts.
“An Alp?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “I mean - yes, I came across that lore when I was still taking German literature.”
“You took German Literature?” Dean regretted his question as soon as he asked it.
“Yes,” you answered, but something had shifted in your tone. It was low and pressed. Shit. He knew he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Sam felt like smacking his brother across the head.
“So you know what they are?” He asked instead, and you shrugged, looking at your feet again.
“Yes, well, I know that the Germans believed that an Alp would sit on their chests while they slept, and it would feed on their good dreams - plaguing the sleeping person with terrible nightmares. That’s why they used to have shortened beds, because if they weren’t lying down, the alp couldn’t sit on their chest.”
While you talked, realization hit you like a brick. Or more like a huge wave, rather, if the feeling of being violently ripped of all air was anything to go by.
“Oh my God,” You breathed out. “Cass and Roy both had nightmares before they died.” You looked between Dean and Sam with shock-widened eyes. “This Alp thing was the reason for all of this, right? I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”
“Not if we have a say in it.” Dean’s jaw remained stoically clenched as he spoke his promise.
“What did you dream about?” Sam asked.
You ducked your head even further into yourself and picked at the skin next to your nails. “’s it important?”
“It could be.”
You took a deep breath and bit the inside of your cheek. “Same as Roy,” you simply said. “Worst day of my life.”
And, okay. Sam didn’t get into college for being slow, he knew exactly what day that was. And judging by the brief flicker of emotion crossing over Dean’s face, he knew, too.
But he didn’t address it and only cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Look, if it really is an Alp – which it probably is – then we already know how to get rid of it.”
“We would lure it into a trap. You know, get us some … bait and then just –“ Dean symbolically dragged a finger across his throat.
You raised your eyebrows in concern. “And how do you think that’s gonna work?”
Admittedly, this hadn’t been your smartest moment, but given the circumstances you were in, you figured you could be forgiven.
Sam dipped his head. “That’s where you come in.”
“You can always say no,” Dean carefully offered. “If you don’t want to do it.”
You lifted your chin in the air. “This thing is the reason two of my best friends are dead,” you said. “I want to pay back the favor.”
Sam nodded. “Alright then.”
“So you guys got a plan?” You asked.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we do.”
It was loud in the cafeteria. It always was. Today, though, you were especially aware of it, because most of the noise was heavily directed towards you.
Or rather, about you, which had just the same effect in your opinion.
You had barely entered the big room and had already felt a few dozen eyes fixated on you. The whispering had started when you got closer to the buffet, and the occasional double-take and looking-fast-away-when-she-is-looking had continued when you had sat down.
Of course, how else should it be, you had been given the rehearsed “My condolences” or “I’m so sorry for your loss”.
Long story short, to you it felt like the day of Roy’s death all over again.
Except this time, they were serving pasta, and not chicken with rice.
It was days like these (which, in your opinion, had been happening far too often over the past few weeks), that made you hate this place even more. It’s not like you had had a reason for that before, the supervisors were nice, so were the helping staff and, of course, Maria.
Maria, who had taken you under her wing from the first day you arrived here. She had acted like a mother towards you, the one you had never had, no matter how hostile you had acted towards her.
Still, as you grew older, the whole thing felt simply more washed out and sickening.
Maybe this really was just a side effect of puberty, as your gynecologist had said.
As you let your gaze travel over the many familiar faces, you couldn’t help but notice that Finn wasn’t under any of them.
Finn, your beloved Finn. You then suddenly remembered the text conversation the two of you had had the other night. Before, well – everything. You still needed to stay true to that.
Silently, you made a note to yourself in your head, to drop by his room straight after lu-
A broad silhouette squeezing into the seat opposite you blocked your view over the hall, and your eyebrows shot up as you realized who it was.
“Uhm, hello?” You asked as Dean folded his hands on the table.
“You told everyone I was dead?” He asked, purposely skimming over your question.
You frowned and opened the small package of parmesan. “Well, aren’t you? About six times?”
Dean frowned and you caught him counting something under his breath with his fingers.
You shook your head, making a point of ignoring him and poured sauce over the dry spaghetti.
“That’s not even my point.”
“What, you’re saying you didn’t barge into the middle of my lunch – after the night I had – to scold me over the inaccuracy of your death rate?” You clicked your tongue. “Surprise.”
Dean apparently didn’t deem it necessary to address your sarcastic tone. That, or he knew just how much he deserved it, which you were fine with, either way.
“Look,” he started, and Jesus, this was going to be serious. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night.”
Confused, you tilted your head.
“I mean about the dream,” Dean quickly added. “I mean, we both know what it was about, and I just …” He cut himself off, cleared his throat, and let out a short breath that was probably supposed to be failed attempt at a laugh.
“I’m not a big … talking guy, you know? But I just … I always told myself, if I ever had kids, that I would be different then. That …” He stopped again.
“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”
You scoffed. “You’re a bit late for that,” you spat. “I mean, it’s been what, almost a decade? ‘Sorry’ travels far, but not that many years.”
“I know that,” Dean said, “But I want you to know, that-“
“Well, I don’t want to know!” You interrupted him. Maybe too loud, if the simultaneous turn of heads was anything to go by. “I don’t want you to tell me anything. No excuses, no explanations, I want, and I need absolutely nothing from you, you understand?”
Dean bit the inside of his cheek.
“Believe me, I do.” He said. “But still-“
“No!” The dishes clattered as you slammed your hand on the table. “Dean, you don’t understand! You just left me here, at this orphanage –“
“It’s a group home.”
“Same thing, Dean!” You snapped. “Just a fancier word.”
Dean carefully pulled his hand away from the table, folding it with his other in his lap. You could feel him watching you, but you consequently avoided his gaze.
“Look, I’m not gonna have this conversation right now,” You decided. “I am going to go talk to my best friend, and when I go to sleep, I’ll try not to get killed! So goodbye.”
And with that, you picked up your still full lunch-tray, dumped it on one of the cleaning wagons, and made your way out of the cafeteria.
You never turned around to see Dean looking after you.
༺。° ୨❀୧ °。༻
St. George, Louisiana 2012
Dean Winchester was standing by a window. Through the clean glass he had a clear view of green gardens, well-kept flowers and trees leaning in the soft breeze of the wind.
Further away, he spotted the tall hedge walls of something that had to be a garden maze.
“I hope you know just how grateful I am for what you and your brother did for me.”
The voice of Maria Whitlock lifted Dean out of his thoughts, and he turned around to face the older woman.
She spoke in a soothing tone, one that reminded him of a mother he never had, but learned to long for.
Dean nodded. “That’s our job.”
Maria gave him a look and tilted her head. He was standing in her office, a neatly tidied room with a shelf for books and files, and a rather expensive looking desk. Very clean as well.
“What you decided to do was probably very hard,” she continued. “But I can assure you, in most cases, it turns out to be the better option for both parties.”
He didn’t like the way she talked about his plan like it was a good thing, when it wasn’t. It didn’t make him a good person for doing it.
“I’m sure, Dean, that there will be a lovely family out there who will take care of her –“
“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant.” He quickly interrupted her. It was the first time in here he had spoken more than for words. “I don’t … I don’t want someone else to take her in.”
Maria raised her skeptical eyebrows at him. “Do I understand correctly, Dean?” She asked. “You want her to just - stay here?” And her tone was implying exactly what she held of that idea.
“Look, I know how that sounds.”
“I really hope you do.”
“But my job doesn’t allow me to properly take care of her. When Bobby was still - well, she stayed with him, and we visited her from time to time.”
Maria nodded. “I understand. But what you have to understand, is, that this will surely not be easy for her. Whereas many of the elder children indeed do live here, the younger ones are usually adopted by a foster family who can take care of them. Who can love them,” she added.
Dean looked out the window again.
“I understand that,” He said. “But this is how I want it.”
He couldn’t see Maria behind him, as he was turned away from her, but he could well sense the way her observing, maybe judging gaze was burning between his shoulder blades.
“Well, then.” She sighed.
And as Dean watched the flowers dance in the wind, listening to Maria shuffling through her papers, he couldn’t help but think that this might be one of the most selfish decisions he has ever made.
Soft wind was tugging at Dean’s hair. Somewhere in the distance he was aware of the rippling water of a small fountain.
Dean tried to not actively think of what he was doing here. Of the consequences his actions would inevitably cause. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it.
Y/N’s hand was holding his in a strong grip, as they walked up to Maria and he greeted her.
Maria leaned down to be on eye level with his daughter and smiled at her.
“Hello Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you. Your Dad has told me so much about you! I’m sure you’ll settle in here just nicely.”
Dean crouched down and placed both his arms on Y/N’s for her to look at him. She had been eyeing Maria and the castle suspiciously.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” he started. “Maria is really, really nice. And because Uncle Sam and I have to work so much, she is going to take very good care of you.”
Y/N averted his eyes and stared at her shoes. Then, sh burst forward, slung her small arms around Dean’s neck and buried her face in his chest.
“I wanna go with you,” she mumbled into his jacket. Dean sighed. With a heavy heart, be broke out of the embrace. “I promise I’m old enough, I want to go with you!” She pleaded again. With every word, Dean’s heart shattered just a bit more.
“Look, you remember when you stayed with Grandpa Bobby for a while when me and Uncle Sammy had to work?” She nodded, sniffling.
“This is gonna be just like that. I promise.”
Y/N sniffled again. Then she held out her hand to him. “Pinky promise?”
I promise that we’ll be fine.
I promise that we’d never just leave you alone.
I promise that Grandpa Bobby will be alright.
Dean pulled Y/N into his chest again. He breathed in deep, as if that would somehow help him savor this moment, savor her to be engraved in his brain to never forget. His little girl, the only thing good and pure in his life.
“Have fun, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart again.
He stood up, and even though he wasn’t that old, everything in his body hurt at the movement.
“But I don’t know anyone here!” Y/N said again. It has been her go-to argument the entire car ride to the castle.
“I want to go with you and Uncle Sam!”
“Y/N!” The sharpness in Dean’s tone felt like it was cutting him. “I said you can’t.”
Her bottom lip started to tremble, before a big tear rolled down her cheek. Then another one, and another one, until she was full-on sobbing.
“Please, Dad!” She cried, and Dean’s heart shattered.
Behind her, Maria put a caring hand on her shoulder.
“Come on, sweetie, say goodbye to your dad.”
Y/N violently shook her hand off her body. “No! No, I don’t want to go with you! I want to stay with my dad!”
Maria and Dean exchanged a look. In her eyes, he recognized something that told him to change his mind.
It took everything in Dean to turn around and walk away.
He fixated his eyes on his car a few feet away from him. He wasn’t walking very fast, but with the weight that felt tied to his feet, it was the best he could do.
Behind him, Y/N kept crying. And as she was pleading and pleading, for him to come back, for him to stay, the feeling of realization started heavily sinking in, that he was really waking away.
Not only from this situation, from his daughters cries, but from her. From his child.
His feet felt even heavier.
When he reached the car door and opened it, he didn’t feel anything. Everything happened in a haze. He vaguely registered starting the car and pressing his foot on the gas pedal.
His daughter’s sobs were still replaying over and over in his mind like the sounds of a broken vinyl, as the naked road flew by the dirty windows.
Sam didn’t address the single tear that rolled down his brother’s cheek. And Dean just kept driving.
༺。° ୨❀୧ °。༻
Now
Since forever on, you had never been quite good with your emotions. Portraying them, talking about them, feeling them.
It was an obstacle.
Looking back at it, you figured it was probably somehow running in your family, the whole being emotionally unavailable thing.
Could that be inherited? According to your biology teacher, yes, but you didn’t know how well you believed that.
Nevertheless, as you knocked on the cold door that was the entrance to your - only left – best friend’s room, emotions welled up in your throat as choking as a tidal wave clashing its weight over your head.
It was dark in there. The curtains had been pulled closed and the thick material wouldn’t let a flicker of daylight in the room.
A smell hung over the entire place, of stale air and leftover food, and the sensation of hopelessness. Finn was sitting on the edge of his bed, a dark silhouette staring crooked at his hands in his lap, only illuminated by the weak light of the bedside lamp.
Without properly acknowledging him, you took quick strides to the other side of the room, and without further ado, ripped his curtains open.
The sun was already lowering down the horizon again, but the leftover light was still enough to turn the dark silhouettes in the bedroom into concrete shapes, of dirty plates, glasses, and clothes scattered all over the floor.
From his place on the bed, Finn groaned lowly, like a small bear being awaken from hibernation.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes as you sat down next to him. The bed dipped under your weight and you moved over a few study sheets that laid on his duvet.
“Hey,” you said.
Finn dropped his hands into his lap again and turned his tired gaze on you.
“Hey,” he said back.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Finn’s eyes tiredly scanned the room around him, the mess it was in, and then shook his head.
“Nah.”
“Alright.” You weren’t, really, but that conversation could wait until another time.
“How you holdin’ up?”
Finn tilted his head to you in a way that said ‘Ain’t it obvious?’ and you shrugged in response. “Stupid question, got it.”
Finn sighed.
There was a silence building between the two of you that you didn’t like. You kept yourself from fidgeting impatiently on the sheets.
“I just-“ Finn cut himself off and ruffled his hand through his hair. “Ever since – well, yesterday – I’ve been thinking about …”
He broke off again, blinking with his face towards the ceiling to avoid the falling of tears.
“Y/N, the last thing I said to her, was – we fought.” Finn’s confession was almost a whimper as he looked at you, awaiting your reaction.
Your heart broke at the look in his eyes, so clouded full with guilt and self-loathing, you almost didn’t recognize him.
“Oh, Finn, she loved you.” You sighed, and placed a gentle yet firm hand on his arm. “She knew what you were going through, what we were all going through. And trust me, she never, not for a second, held it against you. That was one moment out of almost ten years we all spent together. It didn’t mean anything, not in the long run.”
Finn sniffed and rubbed his nose, diverting his gaze to his hands again.
“Finn, she didn’t die hating you.” You put emphasis on every word as much as you could, because you wanted him to hear you, to understand, to believe. You didn’t want to let him wallow in his own self-destructing thoughts about something that wasn’t even true, not in the slightest bit.
Finn just hummed, but didn’t meet your eyes, just kept them trained on his lap. You sighed and let your hand slowly slide from his arm.
For a while, it was quiet again.
“My father is here,” you then blurted out.
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that died?”
“Yeah.” You weighed your head. “In my defense, I thought he died too, until he showed up in a fancy suit, investigating my best friend’s murder.”
The typical phrase of ‘seeing gears turning in someone’s head’ was the only way you would describe what you were seeing displayed on Finn’s face right now, just before the realization hit him.
“Wait, your father’s one of the hot FBI agents?”
You pursed your lips and nodded.
Finn blinked in disbelief.
“Wow,” He breathed out.
“Yup.” You said, popping the ‘p’. “Just got a lot less hot, huh?”
Finn raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. “For my own safety, I’m really not gonna answer that.”
You let out a laugh and playfully shoved him with your shoulder.
“Idiot.”
Finn grinned. “You love me.”
You hummed. “You’re right, I really do.”
A long while later, the door closed behind you again with a click.
Finn had to promise you to get in touch with you if he felt the need to, and to at least try and keep his room in order. After a brief conversation of how his view of himself and his ‘need to call you’ was very different from yours, you had hugged him and decided to leave.
Before you had walked out, your hand had rested on the handle, and you had turned around to Finn, not quite looking him in the eye.
“You know I love you too, right?” You had said. “No matter what happens.”
Finn frowned, but if he got suspicious, he didn’t mention it. “I know. Same here.”
You swallowed and nodded.
Then you left the room.
Now you were standing outside of his door, gaze drifting into the distance, and the same weight that had been lifted off your shoulders replaced by another one, just as heavy.
Funny, how, even if indirectly, saying your Goodbyes, made the lingering presence of death looming over you like a dark shadow much more real. If only one thing went wrong tonight, then-
You shook your head at the thought. No, Sam and Dean were going to take care of it, they promised. You had to put their trust into them with this.
But if tonight really was it, then you were content with the feeling that the last conversation you had, had been with Finnegan Beckett.
The walk back to your room stretched longer than usual.
--
Sooner than you would like it to, the sun disappeared behind the hills and night reigned over the land.
Sam and Dean were standing in your room, rehearsing their – honestly, pretty vague – plan with you, making sure you knew exactly how everything would go down. To be fair, you didn’t really play a big part in the whole thing, but it was nice having some sort of reassurance.
“Alright, so you know what to do?” Sam questioned once again.
Slowly, you nodded your head. “Lay still and look pretty,” you joked. “And try not to get killed.”
“Leave that last part to us,” said Dean. “You don’t have to worry about anything. By the time you wake up, everything will be over.”
You nodded.
You had seen it in Dean’s eyes, that he wasn’t all in with the idea of using you as bait, but you had done it nevertheless.
You weren’t a little child anymore, especially not his, he wasn’t going to decide what you wanted or not wanted to risk.
You took a deep breath that lifted your shoulders and huffed it back out. You were going to do this. It was easy.
Like hell it was.
Whoever told you you had the easiest part of the plan had been fucking lying to you. Turns out, sleeping is way harder with the knowledge of probable death hanging over your head like a dark cloud.
Every time your eyes slipped closed, a glimpse of doubt squeezed its way into your mind. What if Sam and Dean didn’t make it? What if everything went wrong? What if, in the end, you did die?
The sheets were already pooling crumbled by your feet when you slipped out of consciousness.
--
The mass of hot bodies pressing together and towering over you was clamming. A figure was running away from you, you were chasing after it. You smelt old leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted. You wanted more of it.
Gravel clattered underneath your boots as you got out of the car on your own, like all the big girls would.
“Look, Daddy!” But Daddy wasn’t there.
“Come on, I’ll help you.” There she was again, the nice girl with the black hair. She held out her hand and you went to grab it, her warm presence looming you in, and then the floor opened up under your feet and you were falling into nothingness.
--
Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest, as you startled awake in your bed, feeling your lungs tighten up and making it hard to breathe.
Your panicked gaze flew to the door of your room – wide open, the light of the hall casting a dim shadow into the room.
“Wha- Sam! Dean!” Hastily, you pulled the covers off your body and hurried out the door. Something must have gone wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.
You followed the sound of footsteps and scuffle down the hallway, turned the lights on where it had gone off at a few junctions.
Your breathing was still shallow, but you pushed through that and your still dazing mind, adrenaline pumping through your veins with every step you took.
Rapidly turning around another corner, you almost stumbled over the long legs of Sam’s body on the floor. You came to an abrupt halt and kneeled worried next to him.
“Sam? Oh my God, are you-“
Sam groaned and moved his head, eyes still pressed shut. “’s strong,” he babbled, and you tried your hardest to understand what he was saying.
By the way he was slurring his words, you had well reason to think he had suffered a concussion.
“It’s alright, stay here,” you ordered him, as he tried to sit up.
Only then, you first noticed the struggling noises a few feet away from you, and lifted your eyes away from Sam to check where they were coming from.
What you saw almost made your heart drop into your stomach.
Not that far away from you, maybe a few armlengths, was Dean, laying on the floor on his back just like his brother. But he was wrestling with something sitting on his chest, something small and hairy, hunchbacked like an old witch but only with the size of a cat.
The thing, which had to be the Alp, had long, bony limbs, and was fighting tooth and nail, hissing, biting and scratching, against Dean.
It reminded you of a gremlin, of sorts.
In your head, you heard Roy’s voice scold you, “There’s a distinct difference between all supernatural creatures. Elves don’t equal fairies, and gremlins don’t equal goblins, because while gremlins are fuzzy and cute in the beginning and only bad later when they turn, goblins have always been known for harassing humans.”
Alright, so no gremlin then.
Near you, Dean was still rolling around on the floor, fighting for the upper hand with the Alp.
Your heart sped up as you realized that something had to be wrong. Because why wasn’t he just killing it?
--
“So how do you kill it?”
Sam pulled something out of his duffel bag and turned it in his hands, the dim light of your lamp reflecting on the material. “Silver dagger dipped in vampire blood.” He spoke.
“Wait – vampires bleed?”
Dean scoffed. “This isn’t Twilight, kiddo. Yes, vampires bleed.”
You shrugged and inspected the phial he had laid into your hand. “I was thinking more of Fear Street, but alright.”
Dean ignored that he didn’t know what that was, but made a mental note to look it up later.
Sam stuffed the dagger back into his arsenal.
“You don’t have to worry about that part, though,” He assured you. “That’s what we’re here for.”
Dean nodded. “He’s right. You just dream sweet, and we’ll handle the rest. Fool-proof.”
You nodded, passing Dean the blood back. You could only hope they were right.
--
The shining silver of the dagger caught your eye. It had most likely been scattered away from Dean and landed near a wall, far out of his reach.
You took quick steps over to pick it up, Dean’s struggling grunts making you alert, and probably the reason why you didn’t think about what you did next, you just did it.
The silver dagger felt light in your hands, coated in the dark fluid of what had to be vampire blood. The blade reflected the clinical white light from the hallway as you lifted it up over your head, and, using the strength of both your hands, pushed it with force into the monster’s upper torso.
The squelching sound it made, as it penetrated bristly fur, skin, and organs, would later make you feel repulsed and gagging, sort of like nails scratching on a blackboard, but in this moment, you just clenched the dagger tighter and pushed it further into the monster’s chest.
The screech it let out could not be compared to any animalistic sounds you had ever heard before. In a swift move, you pulled the weapon out of the Alp’s body, and the small creature slumped to the floor right next to Dean.
You waited for a second. Two, three panting breaths. Dean was the first to move. He put a hand somewhere where the thing’s neck should be.
Then, swallowing in-between his hard breaths, he nodded. “Done,” was all he said. But it was enough for a sigh of relief to leave your tired lungs, and you sunk to the ground right next to him.
Looking closer at its lifeless body, the Alp had more similarity with one of those dead, stuffed animals that hunters hung in their houses as trophies. But maybe that was just rigor mortis.
Through your haze, you barely registered Dean clapping a firm hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him, eyes suddenly feeling heavy as the adrenaline was wearing off. Like sucking air out of a balloon.
“You did good today, kid.” He said, and though you were tired, in his eyes you could see that he meant it. It filled your chest with a warmth that hadn’t been at home in there since … God knows when, and it made you smile.
Near you, Sam staggered closer, still holding his hurting ribs, and tilted his head as he squinted his eyes at the lifeless Alp before you.
“Is it just me or does it … look like a cat?”
You and Dean both looked over at him, and then at the dead monster on the floor.
“Looks more like a gremlin-goblin hybrid,” You panted. “A gromblin.”
Sam threw you a look of pure confusion, while Dean was grinning proudly. You smiled back. It felt honest.
And very likely, it was.
-- It was quiet again.
From the fight and struggles a few days ago was no trace left, as you stood by your desk and sorted through some old photographs you had replaced on your wall.
The pictures you were sorting through mostly showed you, Finn, Roy and Cass together.
At school, at the movies, going out to eat.
You sighed and plucked some tape from the back of another one.
Right at that moment, a knock sounded from your door. Without even looking up from Cass and Roy smiling at you, holding a stray cat, you let out a “Come in,” at the person on the other side of the door.
The familiar sound of the hinges creaking signified the opening and closing of the door. And then, Dean Winchester was standing in your room.
“Uhm …” He was rubbing his neck awkwardly, as you looked at him expectantly.
“Hey. What’s up?” You asked, and put the photographs in a drawer.
Dean took a deep breath and looked at you. He wasn’t wearing the same casual clothes as he had been that terrible night, but had settled on his FBI suit again. Maybe for effect.
“Look, I was just-“ Dean fumbled for a second and then took a seat on the small chair that was standing around. “We should talk. This time for real.”
You tilted your head, and avoided looking at him.
Dean didn’t wait for any response, he simply kept talking. Maye rambling.
“I know I already tried, but it wasn’t my best, so I …” He sighed.
“I never explained anything to you. why things went down how they did. Y/N, please look at me.”
You had sat down in your deskchair, pulling your legs to your chest and now did your best to fix your eyes on Dean.
“What we do, the hunting … it’s no way to grow up for a child. I know how that is. And I never, ever, wanted that for you. I already had plans to end things sooner than they did, but then ..” He shook his head. “Didn’t work out. So, when Bobby died, I saw no other chance than to get you somewhere else. And I took that chance to just … remove you from my life, as hard as it was.”
“But I promise you, Y/N, it was all just to keep you safe. I never would’ve done it if there had been another way. And I wanted you to know that.”
Dean stood on his feet again and placed the chair back on its original spot. You looked away as he reached for the door handle, to get out of your life, again.
“So you’re just gonna leave? Again?” Your words were accusing and they were meant to be that way, but still you almost felt bad, as Dean dropped his hand by his side and let out a sigh.
“Like I said, it was for the best. Still is, in my opinion.”
“What, to remove me from your life again?” You jumped out of your chair, fury burning in your eyes and voice growing louder with every word you spoke.
“Y/N, you don’t get it-“
“No, you don’t get it!” You jelled at him. What was burning in your eyes were now more tears than anger, but it didn’t matter.
“For years, I’ve been trying to … to figure out what I did wrong. For years, I’ve been trying to do better, every day, I wanted to be better, because I thought —. I thought that if I had good grades, and if I started working out, and if I was always on my best behavior … I thought that you would come and get me. But somehow you never did. And I just … I don’t understand, I want you to tell me, what did I do wrong, what made you leave, because I swear, I’ll change. I’ll change, and I’ll work on it, just please…” A begging undertone accompanied your tear-choked words. “Don’t leave me here again.”
Wordlessly, Dean quickly crossed the room and put his arms around you. it took you a second to realize what was even happening, before you clung to his suit jacket, digging all your strength into it, as if the fabric was the only think that kept you from drowning in black water.
You felt the shadow of warmth, as Dean turned his head to press a featherlight kiss into your hair.
“I regret having to leave you.” He murmured next to your ear. “But what I do not regret is keeping you safe. Even if that meant leaving you.”
You sniffled, and pulled away from him. Dean’s own face wasn’t full of fresh tear stains, but still you could see the sincerity and something like sadness on his features.
You wiped your cheeks to clean them off the drying liquids.
“I’m older now,” You said, and Dean scoffed, already knowing where this was headed. “No, please, listen to me! I’m older, I can make my own choices, take my own risks. You saw how great I was a few days ago!”
“Yes, but that was one monster!” Dean countered. “Out there, there are hundreds of those things. We don’t get enough sleep, no nice food, not even nice beds! Trust me, Y/N, compared to this-“ he gestured around your room, “what we do has nothing on it.”
You shook your head. “But you’re together when you do it. You and Sam. And I just want that, I want to be with you.”
Dean sighed and took a step back.
“Please, Dean, I’m begging you!” You urged. “You said you never wanted to come back here, but now you had to, I mean – don’t you think that’s some sort of … sign or something?”
“I don’t believe in signs.”
“Well, screw signs, I’m here!” You pointed to yourself. Your voice was desperate, but so were you.
“I am here, and I want you to take me with you.” And in a whisper, you repeated, “Please, Dean, this time – let me come with you.”
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, Dean heavily sighed and pulled the chair closer to him to sit down.
--
The church bells were tolling a loud, fast tune. It was ironic, you thought, and you didn’t know if you should cry or laugh about it.
You watched as two dark caskets were lowered down into the earth, into two separate 6-feet deep holes right next to each other.
The gravestones had not yet been prepared, but you didn’t exactly need those anyway. If the huge pictures were any indicator on who was getting buried here.
This was your last time saying Goodbye. To Cass and to Roy, and, unfortunately, to the last one remaining.
Funerals weren’t for the dead, you had once read somewhere, they were for the living, for those seeking closure in their desperate times of grief.
You had thought it to be bullshit, what difference would a burial make in a journey of overcoming the loss of someone so important?
But, as you threw a full hand of dark earth onto each of the dark caskets, you somehow understood. It was one weight less.
They were still here, some part of them. Something you could always come back to, they hadn’t just vanished off the back off the earth. That thought was, indeed, comforting.
Damn life lessons that are right.
“Hey,” you suddenly heard a voice next to you, and were a bit surprised to see Finn standing there.
You had been too lost in your own thoughts to even notice him approaching. The lack of sleep probably didn’t help your attention skills much, either.
“Hey,” you answered.
“Look, I need to tell you something,” you started, just at the same time as Finn said, “I know what you wanna say.”
Both of you let out quiet laughs.
“You first,” He said.
You took a deep breath and avoided looking at him, scanning the gravestones before you as if you had known everyone buried under them personally.
“Sam and Dean,” you started, “I mean, they’ve been here for a while and honestly, I never even thought I’d see them again. So I never really thought about what would happen if they would just – show up, you know?”
Interesting, Peter Gravill only lived to be 57 years old.
“But now they’re here, and I just-“
“I get it.” Finn suddenly interrupted you. Your head whirled around so fast you were afraid you were gonna get whiplash.
At your confused look, he added, “I mean, if my parents suddenly showed up on my doorstep and gave me the option of going with them –“ he shrugged his shoulders. “-I would most definitely take it.”
Before you could even think about it, you already lunged forwards and wrapped your arms around his body, burying your face in his neck and holding him tightly.
The hot feeling of tears burned behind your eyes, but you managed to put them away. You pulled Finn even closer.
“Everything’s gonna be alright, kid.”
“You’re still younger than me.”
“I don’t care. I love you.”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
The hug lasted endless, but endless went by way too quickly. You fixed Finn’s suit jacket, apologized for the tear- and make-up stains you had gotten on the expensive material, and waved him a last Goodbye.
Down by the parking lot, a black car was already waiting for you, two adult men leaning against it. They had been watching the entire thing go down from a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in either the funeral, or the emotional Goodbyes.
Sam tried not to think about what laid ahead of them, or behind them, as his niece walked towards them, away from the graves of her best friends, and leaving the only one that was still alive, behind.
His niece. How long hadn’t he said that title, let alone thought it.
He liked the familiarity of it. The rightness.
Dean opened a creaking car door for you, as you reached them.
“You ready?” He asked.
Sam could see your shoulders tighten, as you lifted your chin, and looked his brother straight in the eye.
“Yeah.”
Dean nodded, and you got in the backseat. He slammed the car door closed behind you. With one last look at his younger brother, Dean rounded Baby and took his place as the driver, Sam claiming shotgun.
Behind them, you leaned your head against the window as the engine roared and you drove off.
The car smelt like leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted.
And in the backseat of an old 1967 Chevy Impala, listening to the music that was a mix of Metallica, Kansas and Billy Joel, you slept the best night’s sleep you had had in weeks.
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taglist:
@psycho-magnotheric-slime , @openmindedperson2200 , @emily-roberts
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bccky · 8 months
Text
Souls Intertwined By Fate
Part 3
Pairing:  Dean Winchester X Reader
Summary: As soulmates, you can feel the exact intensity of pain as your other half when they get hurt. So what happens when your soulmate literally goes to hell?
Words: 1418
Warnings: descriptions of death, mention of suicide, angst, full discretion is adviced
A/N: Sorry for the wait, but it's finally here! You and Dean finally meet, and the world you've just settled into threatens to give in // Dividers by @firefly-graphics // hope you like this one Xx
⇤ PART 2
Supernatural Masterlist • Main Masterlist
Souls Intertwined By Fate Masterlist
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From the moment you had left Ellen's bar, you had felt a unique kind of dread, the emptiness in your heart widening with each step you took away from the person you had destined to be with. 
But it is the best for both of you, that you are sure of. 
You don't hesitate to admit that you are selfish to try to save yourself from prospective heartbreak or have the possibility of going through what your mother had gone through, especially when you now knew that he was a hunter as well. 
"Morning, Y/N." Chris mutters with a quick kiss to your neck as he hugs you from behind. 
"Good morning." You smile as you turn and close the gap between your lips. You were making coffee after getting up from the bed you share with Chris, and this has become a new normal for you. 
It has been a couple of weeks since you landed in the small town of New Harmony, Indiana.
Excluding a few aches, cuts and bruises that aren't visible or have a cause, you have had no interactions with the supernatural - willingly keeping off from reading news or watching it on the TV.
You know your intuitions won’t help pick off the signs of those activities in the world, you're just going to ignore it.
Well, you did investigate Old Neil's Cabin, and having found that he hasn't hurt anyone yet, you let him be - but not before making a note on where he is buried. 
It's a simple start to the day as it has been for a while now, and for some reason, there remains a feeling that something is wrong - or better yet, something is missing.
Still, as you help around Chris’ family diner and motel, there remains the familiar signs of adrenalin rush that you know come from hunting, even when you’re doing something as mundane as getting a plate of fries to the customers.
There is random quickening of your heartbeat, and the dreams of his green eyes, when you’ve only seen them once.
So in this quaint little town, the sun dips below the horizon once more, casting a warm glow across the streets. Your break from the hunting life gave you a little bit of solace in this peaceful corner of the world. The semblance of normalcy feels like a weird sense of relief.
And today, it just seems like it will be happier than many before.
Meanwhile, Dean Winchester, the ever-determined hunter, was on the road once again with Sam beside him. This time, he is a little serious - with the short time frame of his inevitable death hanging over his head. 
But he is happy today, it's his birthday today, and Sam got him a box of little things, from his favorite aftershave to a smart-looking watch.
He feels a little guilty while thanking him because he doesn't trust him enough to keep a secret from Ruby, he hasn’t told his brother about his soulmate yet. 
He doesn’t want to know what limits the demons will test with someone they can hurt him with, even without getting a hold of him.
“I’m hungry.” Sam complains while reading a newspaper. 
“I’ll pull up to the next diner I see.” Dean says. “Besides, it's been too long since I got a belly full of something cheesy.”
“You had a lunch full of cholesterol yesterday, Dean.” Sam reprimands him with a shake of his head.
Dean’s stomach rumbles just in time as a reply to Sam’s comment. “Let’s find some food in this town.”
Some time later, they come across a diner, and Dean wastes no time hauling up next to it. The bell above the door tinkles as they enter.
“Finally.” Dean mutters, glancing around the diner. It isn't overly crowded, probably just a few locals scattered across the booths. He spots an empty seat by the window and starts walking towards it, Sam following closely.
As Dean studies the menu, Sam leans across the table. “You know, man, you’ve been acting a bit weird lately. Anything you wanna talk about?”
Dean sighs, trying to avoid this conversation. “Not today.” And with efforts to do so, he averts his eyes, flitting them across the diner.
But then, his eyes lock onto a waitress, her seeming oddly recognizable. He swallows hard, torn between his instinct to approach and the fear of her reaction.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice pulls him from his trance. “You okay?”
He shakes his head, plastering on a faint smile to mask his nervousness. “Yeah, just lost in thought.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” Sam comments.
You smile at Ellie as you get her order, a usual patron of the diner. You feel unusually happy today, and while you don’t know the reason why, you don't want to jinx it and so you just go on about your day.
Then your heart starts beating rapidly again, but the palpitations aren’t what you are used to.
You turn with furrowed eyebrows and closed eyes. When you open them, they find green ones - to be more precise, those from your dreams.
Time stands still, and recognition flashes between you two - a connection stronger than memory, a bond forged through shared emotions. Your breath hitches, your soulmate is sitting right in front of you.
You don’t know what to do, and while your heart wants to stay, your brain decides to run away. And so, you hurry through the side door of the diner.
“I’ll be right back,” Dean announces and rushes right after you, leaving Sam with no second thought.
You’re there, standing against the wall under the streetlamp in the back alley, your hand against your chest. The night falls, and you look like an angel glowing in the yellow light.
When your eyes join, your hearts start thumping in a turbo-mode and neither of you know if it's because of the bond or due to the other's presence.
“Hi.” Dean whispers, not knowing what else to say.
“Hello,” You whisper back, not wanting to break the bubble that has formed around the two of you.
The traffic from the main road has quietened down, as has the chatter from the busy diner, and all you’re aware of is this beautiful specimen of a man, and your conniving heart which has finally won against your brain.
“How are you?” Dean wants to hit himself just as the words leave his mouth. But then again, what are you supposed to say to your soulmate when you come face to face for the first time?
“I’m good. What about you?” You ask, a smile appearing on his face that you cannot help but match him. And my god, the crinkles that frame his eyes.
“I guess I’m good too - now that I met you.” Both of you laugh, and when your heart finally allows your brain to speak, you start drowning in anxiety, leaving you speechless again.
Everything that you’ve been running from, everything you left behind and everything that you’re up against is on his feet, just a few feet in front of you. Your soulmate.
While it feels like it has been decades, it has been only minutes.
Before you can conjure up a sentence, the side doors open with a thud - and Chris appears, looking tense.
“Everything all right here, Y/N?” Chris asks, staring at Dean as if to determine if there are any signs of aggression, and then settling on you to ensure that you’re fine. “Ellie told me to check up on you.”
His posture straight and hands in a fist, almost like he’s getting ready to fight, fight for you. 
The men stand tall with chests puffed, nearly similar in height as they both try to intimidate each other.
You nod, hoping to calm him. “It’s okay, Chris, this is -” you stop there, not knowing his name.
“Dean,” the man completes. You sheepishly smile at him before turning to Chris.
“Chris, this is Dean, my… My soulmate.” Saying it leaves an unnatural taste in your mouth,
You see his features turn from hostility into those of apprehension as he replies, his eyes narrowed. “I see…”
“Please give me a few minutes, Chris, I’ll come find you.” He gives you one final look, asking indirectly if you’re sure, and you nod with reassurance before he leaves.
“So Y/N, is it?” Dean asks, and you bite your lip.
“Yup. I guess we have a lot to talk about.” 
Part 4 (Coming Soon on Tumblr/ Read it on BuyMeACoffee Now!)
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I’d love to hear what you think of it! Please like, reblog and comment to let me know Xx
I just started a BuyMeACoffee Page where you can read Chapter 4 right now! Its kind of an emotional one where you have a difficult conversation which will determine where you will go from here.
My BMAC Page also has the first chapter of a new Dean Winchester X Reader story with the following summary: Best friends Dean and Y/N navigate a world of supernatural challenges and unspoken feelings. Sam, the ever observant brother, and Cas, the ever puzzled angel of the lord, discreetly encourage their romance through late-night talks, teasing, and shared hunts. As tension builds and emotions simmer beneath the surface, their journey unfolds through this story.
READ IT HERE- SECRETS OF A HUNTER'S HEART
Find out what else I offer on my buymeacoffee page - HERE
It's okay if you can't support me monetory-wise right now, even reblogging my fics help a lot!
Tags in reblog, either comment or reblog this fic if you wanna be tagged in the next part Xx
Thank you so much for your support ♥
Yours Truly,
Vee 💕
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cevansbaby-dove · 3 months
Text
Barely Breathing (but still alive)
Jensen Ackles X Girlfriend!reader.
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So i got this idea after finding a prompt that jumped out at me. This will be a bit sad but i hope you enjoy it either way.
Warning:Mention of blood loss, gun fight. reader gets hurt.
it was another day in Dallas with Your boyfriend Jensen. You and him were heading out to a con in Seattle and you were excited to join him on stage.
"baby have you seen my blue shirt?" He asked you as he walks out of the closet.
"No did you pack it already?" You ask sliping out your flats.
You were in this cute outfit.
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"It's not in there baby i don't know where i put it" he says fiddling with his hair.
"here let me try to find it." You set your purse on the bed and walk into the closet and look through his shirts. "ah ha found it"
You walk out holding the shirt. "it was behind your Hawaiian shirts which i know not what to get your this Christmas" You giggle.
"I love those shirts baby"
"Yes but you love me more...i hope" You said looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
He laughs wrapping his arms around you. "yes i do love you more than shirts"
He places a kiss on your cheek and then grabs his bag in one hand and your hand in the other. "ready?" You smile. "yes sir"
When you two land in Seattle you are greeted with a large group of fans. Jensen takes your hand leading you through the group. You two walk to the car when a gunshot rings out.
Jensen turns pushing you to the ground lightly. He looks around. "What the fuck just happened?!" He yells.
He looks at you and you are passed out with blood soaking your shirt.
"No no! y/n!" he looks at his guards. "Get Her to the ER NOW!" they lift you into the car and jensen sits by you placing your head on his lap. "hang on baby hang on."
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jensen rushes carrying you in. "i need a nurse or a Doctor! please my girlfriend has been shot!"
He says and some nurses rush to his side checking on you. "She's lost a lot of blood we'll take her from here"
Jensen sets you on the bed then watches with tears in his eyes as they roll you away.
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he calls up jared explaining what had went down and Jared asks. "is she going to be ok? I can come over to stay with you guys"
"I..." jensen lets out a broken sob. "I don't know what i was thinking...that bullet was probably meant for me! And now...God"
Jared sighs. "okay it's ok i'll be over right away." Jensen nods then a doctor comes out and Jensen says.
"hey jar I have to go i'll see you soon"
"Alright man" Jensen hangs up and the doctor says. "Jensen Ackles?"
"yea that's me, how is she?"
"Well she's lost a lot of blood it was an inch from her lung which is very lucky in her case."
Jensen nods as the doctor explains how you are. "She'll need to stay over night for us to keep an eye on her"
He nods. 'Can i see her?" The Doctor nods. 'Yes follow me please"
He leads jensen down a hallway and to your room where you are hooked up to machines and drips via IV.
"I'll check on her in a bit"
Jensen nods. 'thanks doc"
Jensen sits by you taking your hand placing a kiss on it. "Shit..." he says as he wipes away more tears.
"Baby please pull through....I..I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you."
He watches you breathe softly. "You have to be okay baby" He says with a tear rolling down his cheek.
He places your hand to his forehead hoping you'll pull through.
taglist:@cutedisneygrl @alternativeprincess94 @k-slla @jackles010378
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 month
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Home Sweet Not Home
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Summary: The reader wakes up in bed next to a familiar but oh so strange man...
Pairing: Jensen x hunter!reader
Word Count: 1,400ish
Warnings: none
A/N: Hooo boy enjoy this one!
You felt warm when you began to stir awake. There was a heavy blanket on you that was nice, not out of the ordinary for Dean to pile an extra one on the bed while you were sleeping. You rolled over in bed, smashing your face in a bare chest.
“Morning,” Dean mumbled. His voice wasn’t as deep and you wondered if he was coming down with something. You blinked open your eyes, resting your hands on his chest, running them down briefly before you cocked your head.
“Where’s your tattoo?” you asked carefully, putting your hand on his pec, ready to use your nails in the shifter’s flesh as a distraction. But this Dean was chuckling, nuzzling his cheek against yours.
“S’on my shoulder like always, silly,” he said, yawning and sighing softly. “You okay? You’re tense.”
You shifted your head up, noticing the white headboard, eyes darting around to see soft light colored walls, a large balcony door and a window overlooking a grassy backyard and pool.
“What the…” you said, standing and hopping out of bed, glad that you were at least in the t shirt and shorts you remembered falling asleep in. You went over to the door and pulled it open, Dean out of bed and moving to the other side of the room, hitting something on a white thermostat looking thing.
“Honey,” he said, walking over as you stood on the small balcony, leaning over the railing to look at a patio and some trees. “Y/N. Everything alright?”
“Where…” you asked, Dean sighing.
“We’re in Austin,” he said, running his hand gently over your head. You turned to look up at him, spotting him in a pair of navy boxers that he normally wore.
“Austin?” you asked, his arm sporting the tattoo he mentioned before but it wasn’t an anti-possession one.
“Okay,” he said, gently resting his hands on your shoulders and pulling you back into the very nice bedroom, soft carpet under your toes. He sat you on the bed and kneeled down in front of you. “The doctor said this might happen so that’s why he gave us the list of questions, remember?”
You had no idea what the hell was going on but you just shrugged, this guy very kind for a shifter if he was one.
“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked with a smile.
“Y/N,” you said.
“Your full name, sweetie,” he said, still smiling.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, the smile wiping off his face.
“That’s your maiden name,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “S’okay. We’ll keep going. What’s today’s date?”
“Um,” you said, thinking for a moment, Dean cocking his head when you answered.
“That’s right,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. “Does your head hurt, honey?”
“My head? Why would my head hurt?” you asked.
“We were in a car accident two days ago. They were concerned you had a concussion. Last night was the first time you were at home. Do you not remember any of this?” he asked.
“Dean, I don’t-”
“Dean? You know I love a good joke but now is not the time, Y/N,” said Dean. You swallowed hard, Dean putting a hand on your head. “What’s my name?”
“I…” you said, looking around the room for any kind of clue. Something had happened after your witch hunt obviously. Same name, different person. You were still Y/N where ever you were but a different version, paired up with a different Dean that apparently wasn’t named Dean. You were well off if your yard was anything to go off of so you definitely weren’t hunters. “I’m just tired. Sweetie.”
“Nice try. What’s my name?” he asked again.
“Honestly?” you asked. He nodded, curiously looking up at you. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s alright,” he said, very good at hiding the flash of concern that showed up on his face. “Do you-“
A phone started to ring, Not Dean ignoring it in favor for paying attention to you.
“Do you remember how we met at all?” he asked.
“Working a job,” you said, his face twitching up.
“That’s right,” he said, tilting his head.
“I’m sorry. I’m just...messing with you,” you said, the man pouting. He opened his mouth but a doorbell rang somewhere, the man getting to his feet.
“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he said, walking over to a closed door, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a shirt from the floor as he went. The second he was out of the door you started to look around, trying to find clues about who he was. You could always make a break for it but in pajamas you didn’t think you’d get far, especially with this guy’s sweet husband thing he had going on.
You walked through an open door to a bathroom, cutting through it to find a closet. You sighed, wishing you’d found something with a name until you jogged back to the nightstand, a wallet on top.
“Yes,” you said, ripping it open and pulling out a Texas license. “Okay. Jensen Ackles. 6’ 1”. Organ donor. Well that’s nice and all but I still know nothing.”
You started to dig through the wallet, mostly credit and reward cards, some cash and a business card with a doctor’s name and number. There was a faded picture of him and a woman that looked exactly like you, the worn edges saying it was probably at least five years old.
You put the wallet back when you heard him coming, sitting back in your spot on the bed, trying to seem relaxed.
“Who was at the door, Jensen?” you asked innocently, Jensen lifting his chin.
“Kid up the street. Girl Scout cookies. I ordered you some thin mints,” he said, padding around to the side of the bed, arms crossed. “Don’t pull shit like that again. It’s not funny. You know how freaked I was after the accident.”
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, his face briefly looking hard before he started to drag his toes through the carpet.
“I get this feeling you’re lying to me,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’ve known you forever, kiddo. You have that look on your face.”
It’d be easy to lie and make something up. It’d be easy to fake a concussion too. Telling the truth would probably get you thrown in an institution.
Jensen tilted his head and walked over to you suddenly, grabbing your underwear and pulling the band down an inch.
“Hey!” you barked at him, kneeing him hard, Jensen falling to the floor.
“You don’t have a tattoo,” he said, getting to his feet slowly, pressing his thumb against your hip, wiping over your anti-possession one. “That’s real.”
He backed away from you, looking you up and down.
“You would never hit me like that because you know I don’t touch you like that and…” he said, tilting his head as he stared at your leg. “You don’t have a scar on your thigh. What…”
“Jensen...take a breather for me buddy,” you said, Jensen shaking his head. “I can explain.”
“Am I nuts? You’re not my...did I die in that accident? Is this some-“
“Dude! Chill. You’re not dead,” you said, Jensen eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re fine. I’m the one that’s…”
“Not my wife?” he said, closing his eyes. “This is one of those freaky weird dreams that seems super real. That’s what it is. You definitely aren’t-“
“Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said. “Hate to break it to you.”
“I was going to say, Reese,” he said. “You know, the character you play on a tv show. Now would be a great time to tell me this is a very in-depth prank.”
“Me? On TV? I have done some crazy stuff but that…” you said, Jensen nodding his head at you. “You’re freaking out.”
“Just a little,” he said. You hummed.
“I guess I have to give you the civilian talk,” you said.
“The what?” he asked.
“Just take a seat, Jensen.”
_________
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ultragaycowboys · 7 months
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At Hogwarts. Au
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Destiel Prompt #50-something
The Magician vs the Real Thing
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The question will be why is Castiel the real thing. Multiple possibilities:
1. Angel of the Lord
2. Witch
3. Psychic/Natural ability
4. From an alternative universe my where he has been implanted with a device that allows him to do his trick.
5. Superhero (Alien from another world where everyone can do this on his planet or could be just the elite)
6. Military experiment results
7. From the future, eugenically created/altered
8. Artifact/Artefact that gives him this ability to perform his illusions/tricks
If you write any of the prompts, please tag me so I can read the story! I would love to see what you creative minds think up! ❤️❤️❤️
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