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agirlwithdemonblood · 10 months ago

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Stitches of Trust

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Summary: After an incident in the woods, Dean is the only one who can save me.

Warnings: Attacked reader, knife, blood and lots of it, stitches, swearing, comfort ❤️

Check out my Masterlist here!

The path beside the bunker was my favorite place to be, the way the sun dipped below the horizon casting long shadows through the trees always calmed me down. It's been a tough week, and this walk was my brief escape from everything I had to deal with.

My feet stopped abruptly when I heard a loud rustle in the bushes. Before I could react, a man stepped out in front of me, eyes cold and menacing. I tried to grab my gun, but it was too late. He rushed forward and pulled me to his chest, knife pressing roughly against my throat.

"Give me everything you got." he hissed.

Panic surged through my veins. My mind raced, but my body was frozen still. When I hesitated, the knife moved down and slashed my side. Pain flared, hot and intense. I gasped and tried to fend him off, to get a head start and run home but his grip on my arm was too strong.

He ripped my bag from my back and shoved me on the ground, another slash landing across my arm. The world blurred as he disappered into the shadows, leaving me there to bleed out.

My hand clutched my side, blood seeping through my fingers, my phone slipping from my pocket. With trembling hands, I tried to call Dean but I couldn't muster up the strength and the phone fell beside me. I reached forward, managing to type out a quick message before the world started to go dark, my eyes shutting heavily. "Help..."

Back at the bunker, Dean heard the faint ping of his phone. He glanced at the screen, his blood turning cold instantly at my message, "Help..."

He stood from his spot as his chest tightened, different scenerios playing through his mind, but he knew he needed to focus, he needed to find me. He grabbed his keys and bolted out the door, muttering to himself, "I'm coming sweetheart, hang on."

He drove frantically, scanning the pathway as he called my name but heard no response. Finally after what felt like forever, his headlights caught a figure lying on the path, bright blood all around it causing his heart to nearly stop.

Slamming on the breaks, he quickly kicked the door open and rushed towards me, dropping on his knees beside my lifeless body. "Y/N! He shouted, panic filling his chest at the sight of my blood covered body. "I'm here, it's okay, i've got you."

My eyes fluttered at the sound of his voice, slight relief washing over me but the pain was still overwhelming. "D-Dean... I.."

"Shh, don't talk sweetheart." he spoke urgently, "Your safe now, I gotcha."

His eyes widened at the sight of the wound on my side, blood seeping out into the dirt below me. Without hesitiation, he tore his jacket off and pressed it to my side to stop the bleeding, earning a hiss of pain to fall from my lips. "I'm sorry, just keep breathing, okay? Stay with me."

My breath came in quick, shallow gasps as the attack replayed in my mind, the fear and pain twisting my thoughts like torture. "I-I couldn't stop him, I wasn't quick enough" I whispered, my voice trembling.

Dean's eyes softened with a mix of concern "Hey, look at me" He spoke firm, but with a hint of comfort behind it. "You did everything you could. None of this is your fault."

He took my hand tightly, his touch warm and steady, "We're going to get you through this, just keep your eyes on me alright? Focus on my voice."

Very gently, he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the Impala, every step was incruciating, but I trusted him with my life. He drove faster than I've ever seen him drive, face twisted with concern, hand pressing on my wound as much as he could.

When we arrived, he rushed towards the couch and laid me down, apologizing underneath his breath when I groaned in pain. The first aid kit was placed beside me, Dean's shaky hands pulling out the gauze and antiseptic.

I watched with half closed lids as he cleaned and stitched my wounds with practiced skill, he's done it many times for me before but this time his touch was so gentle, his focus unwavering despite the worry etched on his face.

"It's going to be okay." He murmered, more to himself than to me. "You're okay now, your safe."

I couldn't stop the tears that rushed down, a mix of pain and gratitude overwhelming me. He glanced up, eyes wide with panic as he quickly stopped what he was doing. "Shit, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

I shook my head rapidly and grabbed his hand, pulling it to chest for comfort. "Thank you. For saving me, for being here."

He smiled softly, hand tightening on mine, "Don't thank me. I'll always be here for you, you know that right?"

I nodded and relaxed my head on the pillow, wiping the tears that stained my cheeks. As he finished stitching my wound, he cleaned up and bandaged me carefully, pressing a gentle kiss against my head as he stood up to pull a chair beside the couch where I lay.

He stayed by my side, hand gripping mine tightly while I stared at the ceiling, eyes filling with tears.

"I thought I was going to die out there." I looked towards him, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dean's expression softened, his hand moving to my forhead to brush the hair from my face. "I won't ever let that happen." He stated, voice thick with emotion. "I'll always come for you, Y/N, always."

I nodded, tears flowing down my cheeks as I bit my lip. "I was so scared."

He leaned forward, thumb brushing away the tears from my cheeks, "I know. But you're safe now. You're here with me."

"Dean.. can you lay with me?" I whispered.

He smiled warmly and nodded, climbing beside me on the couch before opening his arms and hugging me tightly to his chest. His heart was steady and relaxing, a reminder that I was alive and safe.

As I drifted off to sleep, Dean remained by my side, watching over me with fierce determination. In the quiet of the bunker among the shadows and stitches, our friendship turned to love, forced by trust, care and the unspoken promise that we would always find safety and comfort in each other's arms.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

Check out my Masterlist here!

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural one shot #spn #dean #deanxreader #dean x castiel #dea #deanwinchester

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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 years ago

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To Shitty Days and Shitty Families

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader - Your parents come to Columbia to visit you at work only they seem to be more interested in your personal life than they do your work.

Disclaimer: Shitty families, patriarchy I suppose. Swearing, angst, ideology that women are only fit for marriage- reader argues against this point. Reader stands up for herself, Javi talks with her folks when she leaves.

You had been dreading it all day since first listening to your answering machine that morning. And everyone could see it in you. Steve had taken one look at you as he stood outside the complex kissing goodbye to Connie and knew something was wrong.

“You look like someone just shot you.” Connie added. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I-I’ll see you at work.”

By the time you pulled up to work, you spent half of the day bouncing your leg under the desk as you tried your best to fill out the usual paperwork and the only time you said what was going on, out loud, was when you were stood on the steps of the Embassy with Peña as he smoked his cigarettes. Despite you having a habit of removing them from him, he still continued to smoke.

“Who are you looking for? You look like Steve when he goes duck hunting.”

“My parents are coming.”

“To the Embassy.”

“The Embassy, Columbia. Here. Wherever.”

“And you’re worried because…”

“Because they haven’t talked to me in almost three years and now are coming to Columbia.”

“That’s nice.”

“No. No it’s not.”

Peña nodded. “Okay.”

“If you see a cab pull up, shout for me, okay?”

“Sure.” Peña could see the worry in your eyes as you searched the parking lot once more before turning around and heading back inside.

Only, Peña wasn’t outside when they turned up. So, instead, they walked inside, found your desk and stood there, examining the mess and tutting.

“She could never keep anything tidy. Always messy. Always the family mess.”

“Can I help you?” Steve asked as he approached.

Somehow, from the time it took you walking from the evidence room after hearing the familiar click of heels to reaching your desk, your mother had already seemed to have painted herself a saint to Murphy and Peña.

“Where is she anyway? You know, she could never keep time in high school, either. Always marked late.”

Both Peña and Murphy highly doubted that since you were always early - to everything. Hell, you’d get into work an hour earlier than them. But, they decided not to question your mother who already seemed distracted in scanning your entire body with her eyes making you suddenly aware of your skin and one of the many reasons why you were glad you left the states.

Your mother awkwardly moved in to hug you, making the whole thing a clear spectacle for onlookers. “You’ve gotten thicker, dear.”

“Mom.”

“Oh, just a jest, dear. Just a jest.” your mother laughed. “I’ve just met your bosses.”

“They’re not my bosses, mom. They’re my partners.”

“Oh.” That seemed to be the first shock to your mom. “Well, they’re handsome all the same and since you all seem to be friends, I’ve invited them to dinner with us tonight. And you’ll be bringing your wife, no doubt Agent Murphy?”

Steve nodded, though the look from you made him question if he should have said yes.

“Wouldn’t miss meeting your parents for the world, Agent.” Steve smiled at you.

“I’ve left you a note on your desk on where to meet us. If you can find it amongst this mess. And 7 o’clock sharp, dear. I know what you’re like for time keeping. It was nice to meet you boys. See you all soon.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole and take you to Hell now.

Far too soon for your liking, 7 o’clock rolled around.

Murphy and Connie were already there with your parents, sat in the very back of the restaurant, glasses of wine just poured. Peña must have only just arrived as he was still standing and seemed a little out of breath as he made his way round, kissing your mother’s cheek, Connie’s and shaking your father’s hand whilst he shook Steve’s shoulder.

“Late again, I see.” your mother said as you finally reached the table.

“By two minutes, mom. I had to find parking.”

“Never mind, you’re here now, finally.” Your mom seemed to stress the word ‘finally’ before turning to Steve and Connie. “Shall we order? I know it takes my daughter a while to choose what she wants. She’s always been like that with her life.”

You tried your best to keep your breathing steady. “Mom.”

“What?” your mother laughed. “Oh, I’m just joking, honey. You know that.”

You looked to your napkin covered plate, trying to subtly take in deep breaths. “You okay?”

You looked to your left as leaned into Peña who, for the first time in a while, seemed…concerned. You faked a smile as best as you could. “I’m fine.”

“So, Peña.”

“Javi, please.”

“Javi.” your mother smiled. “You’re working with Steve to catch Escobar? Oh, that must be so dangerous. But, I’m sure someone like yourself is able to handle it.”

“He works with me, too, mom.” you pointed out only, she seemed to ignore that.

Javi looked at you for a quick moment before turning back to your mother. “It’s dangerous for anyone being an American in Columbia.”

From across the table, Connie shot you a look which, in total honesty, you didn’t fully know if you returned it. All you wanted to do was get over this meal and go home.

“I am famished.” Connie announced. “What are we all eating?” she scanned her eyes over the menu and you tried your best to thank her telepathically across the table.

“Well, I’m sure my daughter is still deciding.”

“Actually, I know what I want, mom.”

“Oh, well…that’s a change.”

By the time the waiter came around and took your order, your mother trying to order and loudly shouting Spanish in a very clear American accent, you were ready to leave.

You gave your order, your voice at a normal decibel, your Spanish rolling off the tongue, your mother looked to you slowly. “No need to show off, dear.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Darling, just because your mother doesn’t have the best Spanish, doesn’t mean you should make her look stupid.”

“What? I-”

Before you could even think about finishing your sentence, your mother turned to Connie. “Constance, dear.”

“Please, call me Connie.”

“Of course, honey.” your mother smiled. “Tell me, what is married life like? I remember when I married my dear, dear husband. Oh, I was so happy.”

Your mother continued to ramble about her wedding day - a story you had heard every day of your life before you left to join the DEA in Columbia. Meanwhile, you took a large gulp of your wine trying to convince yourself it was whiskey from Peña’s desk drawer and instead of being sat in a candle-lit restaurant, you were back at your desk, drowning in work files all the while the alcohol burned your throat.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you whispered under your breath and in return you felt Peña’s hand lay itself on your thigh.

“Just give me a signal and I’ll get us all out of here. I think Steve is about to throw himself out of the door.”

“I wouldn’t blame him.”

Peña smiled at you before turning back to the rest of the table where you found your mother still talking.

“Oh, and when my Rosie got married? Oh, that was the happiest day of my life!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“Oh, dear, you know what I mean.”

“It’s not kind to poke fun at your mother, darling.” your father added.

“But it was. It was the happiest day of my life seeing my darling daughter get married and have a good, strapping man on her arm.”

“There’s more to life than just getting married, mom.” This has been your argument your entire life. Your mother always wanted you to get married and the day you said you were leaving for Columbia instead of announcing your engagement to your now ex-boyfriend…that was a long day.

“Don’t argue with your mother, darling.”

You took another deep breath and another gulp of wine.

“Don’t drink too much, dear. We wouldn’t want you to embarrass the family anymore.”

It was still your first glass. And it, somehow, miraculously, remained half full.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, look, here comes the food.” Connie announced as the waiter approached.

Thankfully, this deterred the conversation for fifteen minutes whilst the waiter handed the correct dishes to each person. Your mother thanked them rather loudly once more.

“Mom, they’re not deaf. You don’t have to yell.”

Your father called your name. “Don’t be rude to your mother.” he scolded.

“Oh, no, dear. Don’t worry. She’s just on one tonight.” your mother replied before sitting back down and looking at your plate in disgust. “Are you really going to eat all of that?”

It was a normal sized bowl with chicken soup and bread. Except, the way your mother spoke to you made it sound as if the bowl was a sharing size and was filled with nothing but crap.

“You know, I could have ordered for you.”

“I don’t want salad, mother.”

“Well, forgive me for trying to look out for the well-being of my child.”

“Why don’t you just focus on yourself and Rosie and I’ll be completely fine.”

It was now that your mother looked to Connie, Steve and Javi. “I am so sorry about her. She gets like this sometimes. I told her, if she married the man she had, she wouldn’t be this uptight and worried.”

“I didn’t want to marry Daniel, mom. You know that.”

“I understand you like to rebel against me and make me out as the bad guy, y/n. But, one day, you will realise I’m just doing what is best for you.”

“Best for me or best for you, mom?”

“Now, what exactly are you excusing me for, dear?”

“Darling, don’t pick a fight here. I understand you like to make a scene but-”

“Make a scene?”

“She was always dramatic as a kid,” your mother explained to the rest of the table.

“Mom, please don’t talk about me as if I’m not here.”

“See,” your mother tried to point out. “Even at Rosie’s wedding, she tried to stop it.”

“Because she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get married!” you raised your voice a little.

“But she did! And now she had two beautiful little children and a wonderful home and a caring husband. Don’t shout at me just because you wanted her life. Because you could have had it.”

“You think I want her life? Sat at home looking after two children whilst her husband flies from state to state and barely knows his own children?”

“Maybe we should-” Connie went to stand but your mother put her hand out to her.

“No, dear, please, sit down.” your mother smiled. “She’s just annoyed that her life isn’t how she thought it would be.”

“I didn’t want to marry him, mom.” you repeated. “Can you hear me?”

“Just eat your soup, dear.” your mother scolded. “There is no need to embarrass me any further.”

“Your mother is right, darling. Why don’t you eat your soup? If you're not happy with it, your mother will happily order you a salad.”

“I said I didn’t want a salad.”

“Remember dear, a moment on the lips, forever on the hips.” one of your mother’s favourite quotes. “And from here I can already see some of the fat building. You know you’ll never get a husband looking like that or doing what you do.”

“I don’t want a husband!” you yelled. “I didn’t want to marry Danny or stay in America. You! You wanted me married off so you could brag to your friends that your daughters got married before Carrie’s. You’d rather have me marry someone I never loved, someone who would rather sleep with every woman on legs in the whole fucking city, including the darling daughters of your friends, than have me join the police academy and come to Columbia.”

“Dear, lower your voice. People are staring!” your mother scolded through gritted teeth.

“I did something with my life, mom.” you pointed out. “Any parent would be proud if they’re kid was happy. But no, not you. You’d only be happy if I lived by your rules and followed your footsteps to a life of complete fucking boredom.”

“You should watch your mouth, young lady.” your mother warned. “No one wants a woman who has a mouth like you.”

All you could do was let out a laugh whilst holding back your anger as best as you could. “You know what, mom. I-I can’t do this. Just…just go home. Tell Rosie I’m alive or tell her nothing. I wouldn’t want to be an embarrassment to you anymore than I already have. Sorry, guys.”

You apologised quickly to your teammates before you threw your napkin onto the table and grabbed your jacket. You laid a couple bills on the table before walking away. The waiter must have watched the whole thing because, as you made your way to the exit, he gave you a bittersweet smile.

“I’ll wrap your food up and have Popsy send it over.”

“That’s alright,” you replied. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

With that, you left the restaurant and headed to your car before driving away. Meanwhile, back at the table, Steve, Connie and Javi all sat in shock. You never revealed much about your family but whatever they had just witnessed was the last thing they thought they’d ever expect. Even as it happened, none of them could comprehend it.

“On that note, we’re going to take off.” Steve announced standing up before asking the waiter if they could have the rest of their food packed to-go. However, Javi remained seated. Connie leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before Steve shook his hand and they both left with the brown bag in their hand.

“I’m-”

“You should be proud of her, you know.” Javi said before confirming your name so they knew 100% completely who he was talking about. “Before she came down here, we weren’t really getting anywhere. But within days of her arrival, she had most of that place in order. We caught plenty of people and stopped a £3 billion worth shipment of coke from getting into the states because of her.”

“She gets that from me.” your mother said, but Javi just…smiled.

“Maybe. But I highly doubt it.” your mother’s face dropped and your father was about to argue back, but Javi cut him short. “Who she is…that can’t be taught. That’s learned, from first hand experience. Sure, she’s not married, but she is respected. But a shit ton of people. Hell, if she tells the Ambassador not to do something, they listen to her. Because she’s good at her job. Just because she’s not you, does not give you the right to see her as nothing more than a problem to be solved or an embarrassment. She’s not lucky to have you two as parents, but you are lucky to have her. To be able to call her and talk to her and know her. Don’t take her for granted because sooner or later, you won’t even have the privilege of calling her your daughter.”

“Are you threatening us, son?”

“No.” Javi shook his head, standing. “I’m saying if I was her, I would have dropped you years ago. Instead, you get to call her your daughter. But I doubt even now that you have that opportunity. Like she said, there’s more to life than getting married. And she’s living proof of that. Don’t ignore her like I expect you have been doing her whole life, just because she’s not the living poster girl of your planned out life.”

With that, Javi laid his own share of the bill on the table before walking outside, lighting a cigarette and walking to his car. He doubted you would have gone home in case your mother came looking for you to yell at you some more. And he was right in his thinking because, as he did a tour of the Embassy parking lot, he found your car parked alone. He parked a couple spots down from you before squashing the smoke under his shoe and walking inside. From there, he found you sat at your desk no longer dressed in the dinner dress but rather a pair of black trousers and a black shirt. So, you’d been at the gun range. He could see the oiled cuticles of your fingers as you reached for your disposable coffee cup. The hair that had rested in soft curls was now thrown up into a messy ponytail that held itself up under the command of your bobble.

What he guessed was that through stress, some of the hairs had fallen from your head and haphazardly framed your face under the orange light of your desk lamp.

On your desk, he could see the soft trail of smoke from a cigarette. You weren’t a smoker. Hell, you’d pulled enough cigarettes, both lit and unlit, from his own lips before to stop him from smoking. So, when you didn’t do it that morning as he stood beside you on the steps of the Embassy, that should have been his first warning about how bad the day would go.

Though he couldn’t blame you. If he were you, he probably would have gone through 2 packs of cigarettes by now.

He watched you as you took a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs until they were over spilling. Even then, you took in some more air as you moved it away from your lips, letting it rest lazily between your two fingers as you rested the rest of your head against your hand.

Slowly, you let the smoke release itself from your lungs before you took another deep breath of fresh air this time, and opened your eyes.

“Don’t judge me.” you told Javi when you spotted him standing at the steps of the office. But, he just smiled and walked closer, going first to his desk, before bringing his bottle of whiskey and two glasses with him to your desk.

“Oh, no judgement here.” Javi told you before sitting down across from you and pouring a decent amount of liquor into each glass.

Handing you one, you thanked him. “To shitty days.”

“And shitty families.” you laughed before clinking the glass together and taking a rather large gulp and letting it burn your insides as it made its way down.

Javi sat back in silence for a few moments watching you. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” you answered honestly. “Part of me wants to scream, the other wants to cry and the rest…just is thankful it’s over.”

“Have they always been like that?”

“My whole life.” you said. “Rosie was their perfect little girl. Always listened. Did everything without question. Danced perfect ballet at her recitals. Would always sing beautifully and could quote Shakespeare off the cuff.”

Javi furrowed his brows. “I’ve heard you speak Shakespeare. English and Spanish. You put the local production to shame.”

You narrowed your eyes a little, “Not as well as Rosie.”.

Taking another drink, you mirrored Javi by leaning back in your own chair. “God, I remember being so jealous of her as a kid. She was always the teacher’s favourite. She could never put a foot wrong. I’d make one spelling mistake in my English essay in 5th grade and they called in my parents telling them I was distracted. That I was slipping from my education. My mother grounded me for a month and gave me a lecture every day about how Rosie was this perfect child and why couldn’t I be the same? You know, I never got into trouble at school. I got good grades, I listened to all of my teachers, I even won the local baking competition.”

“You bake?”

You smiled. “I bake. I entered it without my mom’s permission and got my teacher to sign off on it. But, God, you should have seen the look on all the parent’s faces. “She only won because they feel sorry for her.”, and then the kids started saying the same thing to me at school. The only time where I wasn’t compared to my sister was in the Academy. It was the first time I felt I belonged somewhere.”

You took another deep breath, “Jesus, you don’t want to hear about this.”

But Javi shook his head. “No. Continue.”

You looked in his eyes for a moment, seeing if he was being serious. And, once you realised he was, you slowly sat back again and continued.

“So, you joined the academy?” Javi asked, helping you pick up where you left off.

You nodded a small thanks and continued. “I joined the Academy and,” you laughed a little, “when my mom found out, she went ballistic. God, it was like I shot her puppy. Or Rosie, godforbid. So you can imagine, when I turned up one afternoon and told her I was moving to Columbia instead of going house hunting with Danny, - who I had broken up with, by the way, six months earlier - you can imagine how she took it. Said I was just jealous and running away because my sister was getting married. That I just wanted the spotlight for myself but the biggest thing was…I didn’t. I just wanted to disappear. I didn’t want people’s eyes on me or have a spotlight on my name. Any time it was, it was always because I was a disgrace to the family name. That I wasn’t Rosie. But…on her wedding day, I realised….I realised I wasn’t jealous of her. In fact, when she came and found me and asked me if she was doing the right thing…I felt sorry for her. But that didn’t last long because at the drop of a hat, when I said she didn’t have to marry him, that she could come with me or I could get her a plane ticket to wherever she wanted, she accused me of wanting to ruin her wedding and her life. That I was jealous of her because I couldn’t find someone to love me the way her husband does her. And, that mom was right. That I would never find anyone because what person in their right mind would want to love someone like me.”

There was other stuff that you didn’t mention to Javi, about what else your sister had said and what your mother clearly agreed with. But, after the meal tonight, he could take a pretty good guess.

“So, what did you do?”

You took a breath, forcing the tears back into your eyes. “I did what she asked for that day. I sat out of the wedding. Sat at the back. Stayed out of everyone’s way to avoid ruining her wedding. And halfway through the reception, I left. I didn’t even say goodbye. I thought about it, but I knew they wouldn’t have cared. They were in their own happy little world that didn’t need or even want me. So, I grabbed my bags, hailed a cab and got on the first flight into Columbia.”

“So, when you landed-”

“2 hours later, I was here starting work.” you confirmed.

“Did anyone know?”

“No.” you said, sitting back up and laying your glass on your desk. “Until a couple hours ago, no-one knew what my parents were like. I’m just…I’ll be glad when they’re back in the states. They didn’t even tell me they were coming and I woke up at 4 on the dot. I didn’t know why. I never usually do and then, an hour later, she left a message on my machine saying she was getting on her second flight and that she’s already arranged to have a cab pick her up from the airport since she knows that I’d probably still be in bed - the last time I was in bed past 8 o’clock I was on a flight to Miami.”

After a while of talking with Peña as he asked you questions about your childhood, he looked at the clock that read a quarter to midnight. “Come on, we better go home.”

“Javier Peña, in bed before 2 am? Is the world truly falling apart?”

Javi smiled at you, grabbing your jacket for you. “Come on, I’ll drive us home.”

“But you’ve had a drink-”

“I’m still under the limit.” Javi assured you. “Come on, let's go.”

By the time Javi pulled up outside of your apartment block, he locked his car behind him before you both went off in separate directions to your own apartments.

“Peña?”

He looked back from his door.

“Thank you, for today. It meant a lot, seriously.”

Javi smiled at you before unlocking his door and opening it up. “Anything for you, hermosa. Goodnight.”

“Night,” you smiled back before entering your own home and closing the door behind you.

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