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queen-of-deans-booty · 1 year ago

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Move On

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: MCD, angst, minor fluff

Summary: Jo Harvelle is having a hard time getting Dean to open up to her. She gets help from an unexpected stranger that is a little too eager for this to work.

Square Filled: dean/jo harvelle (2022) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

Jo walks into the local cafe while her crush and his brother are doing some research back in the motel room. She’s been stressing the entire walk over to the cafe because she doesn't know the drink the man she likes loves. She’s been crushing on him for a few months, and she doesn’t even know his drink order.

Thankfully, there is a line which gives Jo time to think about what she’s going to give him. Her nervous energy is what makes you look up from the book you’re reading. You’re sitting in the corner away from everyone else because you hate big crowds. You’d rather stay in and read than be out in public with a bunch of people around you.

Jo fiddles with her fingers the closer she gets to the front, and you decide she’ll be the person you help today. You put your book back into your bag and head over to her.

“Can’t decide what to get someone?” you ask, startling her.

“How did you…?”

“Honey, I’ve been there one too many times. I’ve tried ordering for someone when I didn’t know their preferences.” you laugh. “Whoever he is, get him a caramel macchiato. It’s sweet and sugary. My man really likes that stuff. He drinks it like it’s water.”

“How do you know it’s for a man?”

“You wouldn’t be acting this way for a woman, would you?”

“No, I guess not,” she chuckles.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Joanna but my friends call me Jo.”

Jo’s up next, so you let her order her drinks. The barista gives her a weird look but doesn’t comment on why she’s giving her that look. You and Jo move off to the side when she pays, and you two chat while she waits for the drinks to be ready.

“So, what do you do?” you ask.

“I own a bar with my mom. That’s more of a side gig at the moment. I travel the country helping people who need it,” Jo keeps it vague. “What about you?”

“I was kind of doing that before, but I’m really into helping others in the way a guidance counselor is.”

“Oh, you work at a school?”

“Sure,” you nod once. Jo wants to comment on your strange answer, but then she thinks about her crush and becomes nervous again. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just about to meet up with the guy I really like. Him and his brother are doing some research for something they’re working on. I just know nothing about him. I want to get to know him but he won’t let me.”

“What’s his name?”

“Dean Winchester. He’s super nice and funny, but he can be a hard ass that doesn’t like to show his emotions half the time.”

“Yeah, my husband is like that sometimes. It can be a bit of a pain and it can seem like you’re putting in more work into the relationship than he is, but don’t give up on him. It’s so worth it in the end. I promise, he’ll warm up to you when he’s ready.”

“He does the same job as me so I get to travel with him and his brother, but it seems like whenever I try to get close to him, all he does is push me away.”

You’re about to answer when one of the baristas calls Jo’s name. She called her twice, but it’s like Jo didn’t hear her.

“Ma’am? Your drinks are ready.”

“Oh, thank you.” She grabs them and places them into a drink carrier. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N, but I have to go now.”

“Please don’t give up on someone like him. I find they’re the best kind of people.”

“I won’t,” she smiles.

You watch her walk out of the store and down the sidewalk until she disappears. The smile on your face falters a bit as you fiddle with your hands nervously. Jo makes it back to the motel fairly quickly, and she hands Sam the tea he likes.

“Here you go,” she says and sets the coffee in front of Dean.

Dean reads the sticker on the cup and looks at her with a questionable look on his face.

“This is my favorite drink. How did you know? I’ve never told you this.”

“There was this woman at the coffee shop who helped me. So, did you two find anything?”

“The cursed object is located in the public library across town. We’d have to wait until it closes to reach it. Apparently, it’s pretty popular in town. As soon as we get it, we need to get the hell out of this town because people will know it’s missing.”

“Let's do it.”

Dean takes a sip of his coffee and closes his eyes in thought. His hands shake slightly but Jo thinks it’s because he hasn’t eaten all day. The trio waits until it’s after closing time to head to the library. There is a back door that employees use that Sam can break into. Dean parks in the back so that he’s out of the public view just in case anyone were to drive by.

“Stay here. Holler if someone comes,” Dean says.

Jo’s pretty new to hunting so she doesn’t question Dean’s orders. Her father was a hunter, and she grew up with him telling stories about his adventures. She knows how to shoot a gun and take care of herself if a monster were to show up, but she has a lot to learn and a long way to go.

Jo takes out her phone to play a game when she notices someone running through the backroads that go past the library. She waits for the figure to come closer only to realize it’s you. What’s the harm in talking to you while she waits? You’re a stranger, but she felt safe when she was with you.

“Hey, Y/N, what are you doing out this late?” she says and walks closer to you.

“Hey, Jo! I find running at night better when the sun isn’t beating down on me. Less of a chance to get a sunburn,” you laugh. “Hey, how did it go with your man?”

“He’s not my man,” Jo blushes, “but it went well. Do you have any other advice on how to handle men like him? I want to ask him out but I don’t know how.”

“Well, my husband loves being alone rather than going out. He hates big crowds, and I’m assuming your man is like mine. So, if you were to ask him out, it’d have to be just the two of you. If you’re really serious about him, then maybe you can suggest going on a drive with the windows down to get some burgers and beer. I promise you, he won’t be able to resist.”

“What should we talk about? Like how can I get him to open up about himself?”

“You have to make him understand that you’re not going anywhere. By being alone, it will let his guard down. He needs that trust and security, and then he’ll talk about his feelings all the time.”

“How do you know so much about this?”

“My husband is the same exact way. I guess people with similar interests flock together. Plus, I’m a guidance counselor. It’s kind of in my blood to help.”

Jo looks back at the library and sees Sam and Dean make their way to the back door through the first floor windows.

“Hey, I got to go. Thank you for all your help.”

“Good luck,” you smile and take off running again.

All three of them climb into the car and leave the scene before someone sees or notices their precious artifact gone. With it safely in the box, they can rest easy knowing no one else is going to die. They’ll leave in the morning since it’s pretty late.

“Hey, Dean? Did you want to go for a drive? We can stop for burgers and beers. I’m pretty hungry.”

Dean and Sam look at each other and have one of their silent conversations. Dean shrugs and grabs his jacket. He’ll never say no to beers and burgers.

“Sure, why not?”

Your advice really works on Dean because Jo has been getting somewhere with Dean that she couldn’t get before. She never saw you again after leaving that town, but she kept your words close at heart. She wouldn’t allow Dean to push her away because she feels strongly about being with him.

He wasn’t too fond of jumping into another relationship, but the more he hung out with Jo, the more he realized that he really likes her. If she’s going to be in his life, then he can’t keep blowing her off or treating her anything less than what she deserves.

He has to come clean to her.

Dean takes her on a picnic date on the outskirts of town where there is a beautiful cliff overlooking the mountains below. Jo never expected Dean to take her here much less plan a picnic, but she isn’t complaining.

“Listen, Jo, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t mean to push you away or disregard how you feel. There’s a reason why I’m so closed off.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Dean takes out something from his pocket and shows her a simple diamond ring in the palm of his hand.

“I had a wife before we met, but she died three years ago. She was a hunter and she joined me on a hunt. Sam was sick and couldn’t go. She died because of a miscalculation on my part. I couldn't seem to move on for the longest fucking time.” He looks at her with tears in his eyes. “Then I met you, and I’m starting to see that even though I loved my wife and still do, I’m allowed to let someone else into my life the way I did with her.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean,” she whispers.

Jo leans in slightly and Dean meets her halfway. You watch from the trees behind them with tears in your eyes and a smile on your face. You did it. You did what you said you were going to do the moment you died in your husband’s arms.

You helped him move on, and now, you can too.

Dean pulls away from Jo and starts to get the food out of the picnic basket when he notices something moving in the trees behind them. He sees his wife walking away in a white dress before misting away completely as if you never existed.

He always had a feeling you were watching over him.

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jasmineshaven · 1 year ago

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You Make Me Feel Like A Fool

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Jo Harvelle

Words: 1504

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Jo is nervous about a hunt that they're going on the next day. Dean finds his own ways to comfort her.

Author's note: You can also read this on my AO3 page. There is light drinking in this fanfic! If you don't like that, don't read further.

Preview:

“Are you scared?” Dean’s voice broke her from her little daydream (well, nightdream) and she tensed. With how quiet it had been, Jo had almost forgotten that she was sharing a bed with Dean Winchester himself.

It was so easy to lie. So easy to pretend that nothing was wrong. So easy to roll over and just ignore him. Instead, against her better judgment, she swallowed down those thoughts and answered Dean truthfully.

“Yes.”

✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Jo couldn’t sleep.

To be fair, it was difficult to sleep when you were about to go up against a group of renowned vampires the next day. As much as Jo wanted to think of herself as a professional hunter, she could admit to herself (and herself only) that she needed to learn a lot more.

She let out a heavy sigh and stared at the ceiling, trying to distract herself long enough to fall asleep. No luck so far.

“Yes.”

Dean gave a small nod of understanding and cleared his throat, looking up at the low ceiling. Jo wondered if he truly understood what she was feeling too. It was funny to think of Dean Winchester worrying about some hunt; he’d done it thousands of times before.

“Why?” Dean asked, tilting his head to take a glance at Jo. She shifted the comforter to hide the embarrassing cat-print pajamas that she was having second thoughts about bringing.

“I guess I don’t really like the unexpected,” Jo offered, giving a small smile and a shrug. That was true enough. Well, more like a half-lie.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “And yet you came with us on your first ever hunt, completely unprepared.”

“I wouldn’t say unprepared.”

“I would,” Dean laughed, the warm sound filling the air.

Jo couldn’t hold back the grin and she looked off to the side to hide it. The audacity of Dean to call her unprepared made her crack up. This time, there was nobody around to stop their laughter. No Ellen and no Sam to interrupt.

The familiar sound of a cork being popped off a bottle brought her back. Jo had heard the sound more times than she could count while working and it made her flinch.

“Since when have you had that?” Jo asked, looking back over to see what Dean was opening. She assumed some sort of alcohol and – ding, ding, ding – she was correct.

“Since now.”

She watched Dean take a swig out of the bottle and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Well?”

Dean looked over with a raised eyebrow, not understanding what Jo was getting at. He brought the bottle away from his lips and Jo snatched it before he had a chance to properly react.

“Not going to offer to the lady?” Jo teased, sniffing the liquid courage. Her nose scrunched up at the strong smell that tickled her nose and made her want to sneeze. She took a big gulp anyway.

To be honest, she needed it like hell right now. To prepare for the hunt tomorrow and to stay at least partially awake. It burned the back of her throat and made her eyes water but she liked it.

“I would’ve.”

“I highly doubt that,” Jo passed the bottle back, a wry smile painted on her lips.

It’s only then that she realized that she just did an indirect kiss with Dean. Her heart sped up in her chest and she looked down to try and get her composure back.

An indirect kiss. What a silly thing to get excited about at this age, Jo thought to herself.

“I’m a gentleman,” Dean grinned back.

Jo raised an eyebrow, which made Dean laugh and the bottle nearly slipped out of his hands.

“Mostly a gentleman,” he corrected himself with a healthy sip of the whiskey. It was nothing expensive but, damn, did it taste good when it was the crack of dawn.

“That makes more sense,” She reached her hand out for the whiskey and her smile widened when Dean gave it to her. Jo couldn’t help having a crush on the man she will never have.

When she finished her drink of the whiskey, she noticed Dean staring at her. Jo assumed that he wants the bottle so she quickly hands it to him.

Dean took it but he made it clear that he’s not focused on the alcohol. That’s a first for him.

“Does the alcohol make you feel better?” he asked, putting the bottle on the nightstand for later. Jo couldn’t deny that the whiskey had helped ease her nerves and loosen herself up. Was it the actual whiskey or was it Dean? She didn’t know but it worked.

“I would assume so,” Jo reached around to adjust her pillow. It felt like sleeping on a block of concrete – same with the mattress – but it was better than the floor.

“It always makes me feel better.”

Jo didn’t know what to say to that. What could she say?

“It’s a bad habit,�� Dean added on, giving Jo a small glance.

Those small looks made her both anxious and excited, creating butterfly soup in her stomach.

“Are you trying to break it?” she asks, resting her head on her knees and interlocking her fingers under her thighs.

Jo had seen many hunters with bad alcohol habits since she was younger and she never knew what to make of it. She didn’t think her mother had a particular addiction and she’s not sure about her father. Thinking about it, he probably did if he was a hunter.

“I guess so.”

Jo didn’t know if Dean was telling the truth but she wanted to believe him. She wanted him to let her in. To trust her like she trusted him.

“On that note, pass it over,” Jo grinned as she motions to the whiskey bottle. She shuffled a bit closer on the bed so that she didn’t have to stretch to grab the bottle each time.

“You’re awful,” Dean laughed, looking down as their thighs connected. Jo reached her left arm across Dean to take the bottle and offered him a sip with a raised eyebrow.

“You can have it.” he said.

Jo noticed that his gaze followed the bottle to her lips and then lingered there, as if he was admiring them. Dean’s eyes on her made her nervous and she had to remember how to swallow.

“This motel really needs to get better heating.”

“Yeah,” Jo nodded, holding the bottle in her lap with her right hand over the neck to steady it. She read over the label absentmindedly, looking anywhere but Dean.

“Are you cold?” he asked as he stretched his arms above his head.

Jo couldn’t tell if this was flirting or not. Her stomach flipped again at the thought.

“A little bit,” She looked up briefly from the label to search for a blanket or something. Honestly, she doubted a grubby motel like this would even have blankets. A small gasp escaped her lips as she felt something around her shoulders. A leather jacket.

“I think your mom would be mad if you got frostbite under my care,” Dean chuckled to himself, leaning back against the pillows.

Under my care.

Jo was not the hunter she begged to be perceived as, but someone who needed to be cared for, like a pest or a small child. It made her feel bitter.

“She’d murder you in cold blood,” Jo definitely felt more comfortable with his jacket around her. She wondered how big it would be if she put it on properly and zipped it up. She remembered her manners and cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“What if you get cold?” she asked, furrowing her brows. It seemed like a problem if Dean was laying there shivering because he gave her his jacket.

Dean shifted in the bed, moving his head onto the concrete-esque pillow and looking up at Jo. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

It was times like this when Jo had to remind herself that Dean was used to this. That he was used to these disgusting motel rooms, full of cockroach infestations and the lingering smell of weed. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

She just settled for a simple nod and moved down next to him, looking into those captivating eyes instead. Oftentimes, Jo found herself staring into them and getting lost. They were so close that she could smell the mix of toothpaste and whiskey on his breath.

They were close enough to kiss.

“Well, the alcohol’ll knock me out in a couple of minutes, so I would speak now.” Jo joked, a small laugh slipping past her lips. She was sure that her own breath smelt like whiskey too.

“Goodnight, Jo.”

Dean looked at her for a second too long and then turned away, making himself comfy in this place that felt nothing like home.

A beat.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

At the end of the day, Jo Harvelle was a hunter through and through. She could handle this.

✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Thank you for reading until the end! If you liked this fanfic, I'd love any feedback or comments you have for me.

#fluff #sharing a bed #canon compliant #pillow talk #ficlet #pining #light angst #hurt/comfort #jo harvelle #dean winchester #chestervelle #spn #fanfic

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sammyluvr · 2 months ago

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SUPERNATURAL M.LIST all works are gender neutral, reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated !! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI WITH MY NSFW CONTENT. YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!! all nsfw fics are clearly labeled MDNI, this applies to ageless blogs. r for romantic, p for platonic ! ofc all nsfw is romantic !!!

FAKE TEXTS ⟢ gen z younger sibling | fluff, humor, p

౨ৎ

DEAN WINCHESTER DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ the language of love isn’t dead | 2.4K, fluff, light angst, r ⟢ flower shop, 11:00 a.m. | 644, fluff, r ⟢ gas station, 3:04 a.m. | 615, hurt/comfort, p

HEADCANONS ⟢ best friend!dean | 1K , fluff, p

౨ৎ

BOTH DRABBLES / ONESHOTS (all platonic) ⟢ sorry won’t cut it (rewrite) | 4.1K, angst, hurt/comfort ⟢ broken, fine for tonight | 1.3K, hurt/comfort

HEADCANONS (all separate) … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

RUBY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ abandoned church, 5:30 a.m. | 540, fluff, r ⟢ cry for me | 1.2K, smut, MDNI ⟢ lick it better | 1.2K, smut, MDNI, coming soon … ⟢ indulge | 1.2K, fluff, r

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

CHARLIE BRADBURY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ make you feel so good | 1.K, smut, MDNI

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

JO HARVELLE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ so pretty | 1.7K, smut, MDNI ⟢ hooked | 1.6K, smut, MDNI

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

JESSICA MOORE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ our girl | 1.2K, smut, MDNI, w/sam

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

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zepskies · 1 year ago

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Smoke Eater - Part 10

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

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

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

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,300 Tags/Warnings: **Sexual harassment, angst, perilous situations, hurt/comfort

Part 10: “Toil and Trouble”

After visiting his father, Dean spent the rest of his day unsettled. He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, but he had a gut feeling that John knew more than he was saying.

He understood that his dad was looking out for him, trying to protect him, but Dean had a problem.

He didn’t like being left in the dark.

You were working later than usual that afternoon, so he had more than one reason to invite Sam and Cas out for a drink. They met at the Roadhouse and sat in their usual corner. Unfortunately, they were getting drinks and a show.

Jo stormed out of the back room behind the bar with her mother hot on her heels.

“You stop right there, Joanna Beth—”

“Mom, you’re not going to talk me out of it! I’m taking the damn test and I’m going to get in and I’m going to the Police Academy!”

“And all the money I shelled out for you to go to college, to get your degree, something I never got, by the way.”

“I know. And I’m grateful for that, but I did the college thing for you and Dad,” Jo said.“I don’t want to go into business. I never did.”

“No, because owning your own business ain’t respectable,” Ellen said, with all due sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Never mind that I thought I could leave this place to you someday. Never mind that you’d rather be walking these streets with a gun than take care of the last thing your father left us.”

Jo finally stopped at that. She turned on her heel and withered slightly.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she said. “I just don’t want to serve at a bar my whole life, Mom. I want to help people.”

Ellen’s brows shot up at that. She leaned back on her heels, as if she’d been delt a blow. Dean looked over and saw the guilt that set over Jo’s features, but neither Harvelle woman backed down.

“So you don’t want to end up like me,” said Ellen, clicking her tongue. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Mom, that’s not what I meant,” Jo tried, but her mother waved her off.

“No,” Ellen’s voice came out sharp as she went for a hand towel. “You do what you want, Jo. You’re grown, I suppose.”

She wiped down a few droplets by Cas’s hand before whipping the damp towel over her shoulder. And she walked down the line to continue serving her customers, leaving Jo standing at the other end, disheartened.

Sam and Dean shared a glance with each other, then with Cas, though they tried to keep their heads down and their noses out of the family business. Frankly, they were relieved when Jo left the bar.

Still, Dean couldn’t help but glance up at Ellen when she came back their way. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“Don’t you ask me if I’m okay, Dean Winchester,” she said. Her voice was quieter, tired, but it still cut like a whip.

He bobbed his head and looked down at his beer. “Yes, ma’am.”

But after a moment, his eyes raised to find Ellen’s face.

“You want another?” she asked, pointing to his drink. It was still half full, but Dean nodded with a smile, just to help her out. She seemed to want to distract herself with work. He was liable to do the same thing when he was stressed.

She nodded with a slight smile. After she left to go grab it for him, he raised his brows and looked over at his brother and his friend, whistling lowly.

“And we thought our family had issues,” Sam remarked. Dean huffed at that.

“Speaking of.” Dean turned to Cas on his left. “Dad told me you guys are making headway on this crime boss-turned-arsonist.”

Cas met him with a shrewd brow raise. “What did John tell you?”

Dean frowned, his brows knitting together. “I hate it when you do that.”

“What?”

“Cover his ass,” Dean replied. He lowered his voice to ask, “Have you figured out what’s connecting all the vics? What ties them to Azazel, besides the brand marks?”

Cas sighed, running a hand over his face. Meanwhile, Sam watched the exchange with tight lips.

“Dean, you know I can’t tell you that,” said Cas.

“Hey, this guy’s starting fires in my neck of the woods. I can help,” Dean said.

“We’re already working with Arson—”

“Oh yeah. Sounds like Dad’s party line.”

“Dean,” Sam interjected, but Dean shook his head stubbornly.

“No, Sam. This isn’t just about fires, or some random nut job offing people,” Dean said. He tried his best to keep his voice quiet, despite the frustration coursing through his blood. “This is about Mom, no matter how much you wish it wasn’t.”

The brothers stared at each other for a moment, their silence charged with unspoken confrontation.

Eventually, Sam relented with a shallow breath through his nose. He turned to Cas, as did Dean. With the weight of both Winchesters on him, Cas finally had to sigh as well. He set down his whiskey on the countertop.

“Jerry Stillwell, the CPA,” he began. “We traced a secondary bank account in his name. It showed several ‘consultant invoices,’ for tens of thousands of dollars. The payments were wired from a company called Edlund Emporium.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded. “What does it lead back to?”

“By all accounts, it’s just a wholesaler of antiques,” Cas explained. “But we believe it might be a shadow company for a larger enterprise. Drug runners are known to hide their product within secret compartments in furniture, in the frames behind paintings, etcetera.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Narcos,” Dean quipped.

“Who owns the Emporium?” Sam asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Cas admitted. “Its records are proving difficult to trace. However, the one relevant thing we were able to retrieve from Stillwell’s home files was an old audit of Edlund Emporium from 1996. It showed some old statements of the company using a storage facility downtown: Stull Storage.”

Stull Storage. Dean’s head tilted in thought. Why did that name sound familiar?

Cas noted his recognition with another nod.

“That particular storage facility was also linked to a money laundering scheme. You’re thinking of Paul Richardson, the father of two, who was killed in last month’s fire,” said Cas. “Well, as it turns out, he was a defense attorney who failed to get his client acquitted for that case. His client was a known drug runner, decades ago. And he actually pushed product for Azazel.”

“How do you know that?” Dean asked.

Cas sighed. “Your father remembered him from his time in Narcotics.”

Shit, Dean thought. He looked over at his brother, and by now, Sam’s gears were turning at Mach speed.

“Who owns Stull Storage then?” Sam asked.

“A company called Savage & Co.,” Cas said. He looked over more pointedly at Dean, whose eyes widened in realization.

“My girlfriend’s company?”

You hated having to work late. Not because of the working, but because the office was much quieter after 5:00 p.m. Too quiet.

Your desk phone rang, making you jolt in your seat. Once you saw the extension calling, you exhaled loudly and resigned yourself to answering the phone.

“Yes?”

“Come up to my office for a sec. I wanna discuss something with you,” said Nick.

And that. You really hated that.

Your eyes closed as you took in a breath.

“I’m working on an upsell for the Greenway account. Can we meet in the morning?” you asked.

“This is important,” he insisted.

You held in a sigh, but you agreed and hung up. You steeled yourself and took your phone with you as you decided to take the elevator up to the 30th floor. At least if it got stuck, it would get you out of this impromptu meeting with your boss.

Unfortunately for you, Betsy ran like clockwork. You were at Nick’s office within minutes—the penthouse suite of the building. Lavishly furnished, complete with a full leather couch set and coffee table for entertaining corporate big wigs, a large desk for Nick to pretend to work, and a fully stocked bar, where he did most of his “actual” work.

An expensive looking set of gold clubs were leaned against the wall, next to the bar. You knew it was his pride and joy, and he often brought it up in conversation when he was “networking.”

Just now, the sun was setting through the large windows overlooking his desk. The view was quite picturesque; the only thing that marred it was Nick Savage himself. He smiled and beckoned you into the room when he noticed you. You left the door open when you entered.

He got up from his desk and gestured over to the lounge area. He hinted at you taking a seat beside him on the same couch, but you sat on the opposite one, leaving the coffee table between you. His smile lessened a pinch. But he got up, as if he was just remembering something. He made his way to the bar.

“Want a drink?” he asked you over his shoulder.

“No, thank you,” you flatly replied. “Nick, I told Mr. Greenway that I would have that paperwork into processing by end-of-day today.”

“Yep, you are working hard,” Nick nodded. “Miss Busy Bee.”

He filled a tumbler three quarters of the way with bourbon and took it back with him to the couch where you sat. You crossed your legs and subtly shifted backwards. It left a foot or so of distance in between.

“That’s what I like about you,” he continued. “You do what it takes to get the job done.”

“I take my work seriously,” you said, in a pointed tone.

Nick inclined his head.

“You sure do. And you’re doing very well. In just a few years, you’ve racked up more accounts and upsells under your belt than anyone else on the team right now. Even Josh,” he said. “In fact, I’m considering you two as my top candidates for the Senior Sales Manager position. Adam’s leaving us for another company next month.”

That compliment surprised you, as well as the potential promotion. You’d heard that Adam Milligan was interviewing with other companies, but you hadn’t known that he was leaving. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the consideration…and I would look forward to the opportunity to grow in the company.”

Nick smiled. “Good! And while I believe in you, I just need to know that you’d be willing to do what it takes in this new role.”

That had a subtle alarm trembling up your spine.

“How so?” you asked. “Like you said, I think my margins speak for themselves, along with my ability to manage projects. I think that’ll translate well with managing the team.”

“But you’ve never managed people,” Nick pointed out. He leaned an arm on the back of the couch, his fingers drawing near to your arm. “Tell you what. I want to keep chatting about this, but I’m getting hungry. Why don’t I order some dinner, and we’ll keep pow-wowing.”

“Actually,” you said, leaning away from his hand. “I have plans this evening.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’re you up to?”

You didn’t feel you had to give him any details about your personal life, let alone that you didn’t actually have plans tonight (except for watching The Princess Bride with George. It was your favorite movie to watch together).

“I’m having dinner with my boyfriend,” you answered with a tight smile.

Your womanly pride hated that you had to use Dean as an excuse, but maybe then your boss would get the hint.

Nick’s lips thinned a bit as he leaned back in his seat. “Hmm, didn’t know you had one of those.”

“You met him,” you replied, arching a brow. “He’s a firefighter, remember?”

Nick nodded, though he made a non-committal sound.

“All right, well, I should go actually. He’s picking me up,” you said.

Though when you moved to stand, Nick’s hand wrapped around your wrist. His eyes met yours meaningfully, edged with interest as he eyed you.

“You sure you can’t stick around?” he asked.

His hold was firm enough to scare you, a subtle gasp catching in your throat when your eyes flicked up to his in warning. You instinctively jerked your hand back.

“Don’t touch me,” you said, even as you hated the slight tremor in your voice. “I’m warning you, Nick. I will go to HR. I don’t care how many lawyers you threaten me with. I’m not interested.”

Nick’s head tilted as he watched you with a frown.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.” He relaxed against the couch with arrogance, and it was beginning to make you sick. He crossed his arms as you stood and began to storm out of the office. All the while, his words followed you.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You still had work to do, but you weren’t taking any chances. After you made it back to your office, you grabbed your work laptop and left for home. You had to take several calming breaths as you got into your car and turned the key into the ignition, but your hands still shook.

Then the car spluttered, refusing to start. You blinked, tried it again.

Still, the engine struggled and the dashboard shook.

Damn it, damn it! Don’t do this to me, you silently begged. You knew you should’ve had Dean look the old car over weeks ago. He’d offered more than once, but you kept forgetting. You bit your lip.

“Please,” you whispered. You just wanted to get the hell out of here. You glanced up and around the parking lot to make sure it was still empty, that no one was approaching.

After another painfully long moment of puttering, the car finally grumbled to life. A relieved breath rushed out of your body, and you began to peel out of the parking lot.

I can’t take much more of this, you thought as you drove home.

You also thought about calling Andréa. She still didn’t know all the details about what you were dealing with at the office. In fact, she knew little more than Dean.

And you really wanted to tell Dean. He had a way of calming your nerves and reassuring you when you felt out of sorts…and making you feel safe.

But you also knew how both your best friend and your boyfriend would react. Andréa would force you to go to HR, and then it would undoubtedly get messy. She could even get fired, if Nick was petty about it (and he usually was). You couldn’t afford to lose your job either.

Whereas Dean…

God, he’ll be so pissed, you thought. You had seen just a flash of his jealous side before, with Gordon. And that was one of his friends.

This would be infinitely worse.

Dean was protective. It was literally in his job description, but it was also just who he was as a person, you’d come to find. While you loved that about him, you also couldn’t have him storming your office building to wring Nick’s neck.

You needed your job. And even though you had updated your resume, with how hard you’d been working, you hadn’t had time to start scouring the online job boards…

You blew out a long breath. Your eyes were beginning to burn with frustrated tears. You sniffed and wiped under your eyes in vain.

Damn it, what the hell am I gonna do?

The question burned through your mind over and over, even when you got home. Your grandfather looked up from the show he was watching in the living room when you came in.

“Hey there, stranger,” he said. “Workin’ late?”

“Yeah,” you replied dully. You dumped your purse and workbag on the dining table and continued into the kitchen, not seeing how George frowned.

He slowly got up, wincing and at his aching joints and stifling a wet cough. He paused for a moment as a bout of nausea threatened to bowl him over.

When it passed, after a moment, he straightened. And he followed you into the kitchen, where you were peering into a near empty fridge.

“We barely have anything here,” you said with a sigh. “Okay, guess I’m going to the store. I can pick up something for dinner on the way home.”

“I’ll go with you,” George said. “I’ve been cooped up here all day.”

You shook your head without looking back at him, still making a mental note of everything you needed to buy.

“I heard you coughing. It doesn’t sound like your asthma,” you said, letting out a breath. Add a dash of worry for your grandfather’s health to spruce up your evening.

George sighed.

“Honey,” he tried. You were already shaking your head as you closed the fridge and turned to him with a frown.

“That primary doctor’s an idiot,” you said. “I’m calling your oncologist tomorrow morning.”

You went to grab your phone to set a reminder for yourself, but George stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Would you stop?” he barked. “Just stop it!”

You blinked wide, and both literally and figurately, you took a step back. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, even when you were a child. But your earlier frustrations already had you on edge, and frankly, this was the last thing you needed.

“What?” you snapped back. “Clearly you need to see the doctor, and I’m not going to let you dismiss whatever it is you’re hiding and don’t want to tell me about! I’m sick of it.”

“Let me?” he said. “That right there is our problem. I’m not a goddamn kid. Damn well ain’t your kid or your responsibility. And I’m sick of you treating me like I already got one foot in the grave!”

You flinched as if he’d physically hurt you. Your eyes inevitably flooded with tears.

George relented when he saw it. He leaned a hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself.

“Look, hun. I’m 82. Every day, I take a stack of pills that sometimes make me feel worse than the damn cancer did. I got no illusions, and I do appreciate everything you do for me,” he said. “But you’re not my caretaker. You’re not my nurse. You’re my granddaughter.”

He grasped your hand with a warm squeeze. You sniffed and shook your head.

“I understand what you’re saying. And maybe…okay, I know I can be overbearing sometimes. But there’s a reality here that you don’t want to face,” you began. Though it was hard, you met his eyes.

“I’m not just your granddaughter,” you said. “I haven’t been since Grandma died. Because I’ve had to be more. Because you’re the only family I have, and I’ll make that choice every time.”

You let go of his hand and took up your purse, wiping at your eyes.

“But if you really want to come to the store, let’s go,” you said.

George stared back at you at a loss. Deep down, he knew there was a good deal of truth in your words, but he still felt like you weren’t quite hearing him.

Still, he followed you to the car.

You got into the driver’s seat of your Camry and briefly closed your eyes in a silent prayer. Then you turned the key in the ignition. The car turned on, to your surprise and relief.

You started the short drive out of your suburban neighborhood and down to the nearest grocery store. It was only 20 minutes away, and traffic wasn’t bad, but somehow the drive seemed to take an eternity on the two-way street. There was grass and forest on the passenger side, and the rest of the city approaching on the other.

Unbidden, your mind kept drifting back to this afternoon in Nick’s office. His words were like tendrils of black, oily ink coiling through your mind.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.”

Your hand tightened on the steering wheel, your teeth clenching. You could picture his lazy, arrogant smirk as he leaned back into the couch.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You wanted to take one of his precious golf clubs and take a few swings at the man’s head.

“Something wrong with the car?” George asked.

“What?” you asked, flinching in your seat. But you realized then what he was saying. Your car was shaking, like it was about to stall. What the hell?

None of the service lights on the car were on, but this was a warning sign you couldn’t ignore.

George looked up as you approached a curve. “Slow down!”

Your gaze lifted just in time to see how an SUV from the opposite lane of oncoming traffic was drifting too far into your lane, on the curve. You corrected quickly with a jerk of the steering wheel, but your car jolted and stuck on the wheels’ position, and you couldn’t force it straight again.

It sent the car veering off the road and onto the grass, then tumbling down the hill into a sharp decline. You didn’t see the tree until you were feeling the impact of it hitting the front of the car, and nothing more.

You blinked awake, slowly. The side of your face felt numb as you manage to raise it from the airbag. Blood dripped down your nose over your lips, which you only realized after tasting copper on your tongue. You raised a trembling hand to your mouth and wiped some of it away.

Sucking in a breath, you turned your head. Fuck, that hurt.

“Grandpa? …Grandpa!”

George was still unconscious, though he didn’t look like he was bleeding. His airbag thankfully deployed as well. You looked around for your phone…if you remembered right, it had been in your purse. You looked over, and you saw it by his feet.

Though you were held back by your seatbelt and the airbag, and your whole body felt stiff and aching, you reached over and grabbed the purse’s strap. From there you pulled it towards you, with pained grunts, and whimpers, and shallow breaths.

When you were able to fish out your cell, your blood-stained thumb shook while swiping through your contacts.

You knew you should call 911 first, but your instincts took hold. There was only one person you could call. Your eyes began to burn the longer the line rang. By the time it finally connected, the first tears welled up.

“Hey, baby. Good timing,” Dean answered. He sounded tired. “Was just thinking about calling you.”

Your heart had traveled up into your throat to hear his voice. But now, it was hard to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth.

“Dean,” you managed, though your throat became clogged with emotion. Your tears blurred your vision and finally slid down your cheeks.

You tried to push at your seatbelt; it felt like it was cutting your circulation across your chest. But that proved to be a mistake, as the tight fabric just pressed into the bruising you already felt forming against your skin. You couldn’t contain a small whimper.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His tone was more alert now, changed with the distress he likely heard in your voice.

You took in a shuddering breath as more tears rolled down your face.

“I need help.”

Dean had already been home from the bar when you called. But when he heard your voice, full of pain, your plea for help—it was like a stone dropping into his stomach.

“What happened? Where are you?” he asked. Already he was off the couch and looking for his wallet and keys. Sam was crashing at Eileen’s tonight. Dean would have to call him later. He locked the apartment and hastened down the stairs.

You were eventually able to tell him that your car had swerved after locking up on you. That you’d crashed into a ditch, against a tree.

“Grandpa’s with me. He still hasn’t woken up,” you said through tears. “I can’t move—”

“Don’t!” Dean interrupted, another lance of panic running through him. But he gentled, hearing your soft crying. “Don’t move. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m comin’ to get you. Did you call 911?”

“No…not yet,” you admitted with a sniff.

He nodded to himself. “All right. I’m gonna call this in, make sure they’re on the way.”

“Don’t hang up, please,” you begged.

Dean was torn. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew he needed to get the fire department there as soon as possible.

“I won’t, I promise. Just hold on while I make the call,” he said as he climbed into his car. “I’m going to get the team out to you, okay?”

You sniffled again, but you finally agreed. Dean put you on hold while he called 911. All the while he was driving out of his neighborhood and onto the main road. He gave them his badge number to make sure they knew who he was, and that his girlfriend and her grandfather needed help on 32nd Street and Parker.

After he hung up with the operator, he got back on the line with you and kept you company while he drove. He gave you reassuring words, tried to keep you calm with a few wise cracks to lighten you up. Some of them you seemed to appreciate (others you didn’t).

When he pulled up to the right location, he didn’t see your car at first. That is, until he pulled over to the side of the road. He saw the edge of your bumper just over the slope, and then the rest of your Camry in the ditch. The hood was crumpled like an accordion into a tree, but at least it wasn’t smoking too bad (or on fire).

His heart clenched, but he forced himself to act—with the same fight or flight response he had to overpower with every call he responded to on the job.

Dean climbed out of his car and quickly grabbed the steel Halligan he kept in the trunk. It was essentially a more professional crowbar.

Then he jogged down into the ditch.

He went to the driver’s side first. He saw your tear-streaked face through the window, could hear your muffled voice call his name. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Can you unlock it?” he asked.

“I tried earlier,” you said. “It won’t open.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, no problem. Lean back.”

You obliged him, and once he was sure you were ready, Dean used the Halligan to pry the door open. He could’ve busted open the window, but this was safer.

Once the door was cracked open enough, he pushed it the rest of the way so he could get to you. He punctured through the air bag with the sharp end of the Halligan and pushed it down to deflate it a bit. It allowed you to grab onto his arm, and he reached for you, cupping your cheek and wiping at your tears with his thumb.

“Dean…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, when you tearfully squeezed his arm. He noticed the drying blood around your nose and stained down your blouse. You were still dressed for work.

“Dean-o, hey,” said George from the passenger side. He was awake, but his eyes were half-lidded.

“Hey, George,” Dean nodded with a smile, to hide his concern. “How’re you doin’ over there?”

“Okay,” George tried, but it ended on a wet cough.

“Check on him. Please,” you asked. Dean nodded, but first, he leaned in a pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a subtle breath of relief. You closed your eyes, and a couple more tears slipped down. You squeezed his hand gratefully.

“Stay put for me,” he said. You hummed in agreement. And by now he could hear the sirens of an ambulance nearby.

Good, he thought, especially when he went over to the passenger side and wrenched the door open. He leaned George back in his seat, away from the airbag, and measured his pulse at his clammy wrist. It was a bit too fast for Dean’s liking.

“I’m good, right?” George asked. He was pale and sweating.

“That’s right. You’re gonna be hittin’ the roller disco in no time,” Dean said. George smiled in amusement, letting out a huff.

Dean smirked, then gave you a reassuring look. “The paramedic’s coming now. Just keep taking even breaths for me.”

A couple of minutes later, two paramedics came with a board and a neck brace to carry someone out. Dean recognized them from the shift opposite to his: Ed and Harry. They were a couple of chuckle brothers, but they did their job well. Dean instructed them to get George out first, and he helped them do it.

“We’re going to get to you next, ma’am,” Ed told you.

“Is he okay?” you asked. Worry for your grandfather was steeped in your watery eyes.

“They’re taking him up to the ambulance now. Another one’s coming for you,” Dean said. He was on his way back over to your side of the car, but he hurried when he saw you trying to get out. Apparently you’d managed to unclip your seatbelt when he wasn’t looking.

“Whoa, hey! What’re you doing?” Dean said. You gave him a small heart attack when you nearly fell out of the car on your shaky legs. He guided you back to sit, but you were adamant about getting out.

“I don’t want to wait,” you said sternly, though the effect was hampered by the way your voice also trembled.

“Okay, okay. I gotcha,” Dean nodded, but he urged you to let him help. He was careful in how he slipped his arms behind your back and under your knees. “Any sharp pain? In your neck, anywhere else?”

Truthfully, your neck did hurt. But it wasn’t that bad, you reasoned. The rest was just aches and bruises you were sure you would have later. You rested against his chest.

“I’m okay,” you said. Your arm curled around his shoulder while your free hand laid against his chest. “Thank you.”

Dean sighed and pressed another kiss to your hair, and then your forehead before he made his way up the slope with you in his arms. Once he got back onto the road, he spoke to Donna Hanscum, the police officer who’d arrived at the scene. She worked in the same precinct as his father and Jody.

You briefly explained what happened to cause the crash—the SUV drifting and your car locking up out of your control. Donna took notes all the while. Dean then let her know that he was taking you to the hospital.

“She really should wait for the ambulance,” Donna said, though her eyes were kind, taking in your tear-streaked face and the way you clung to Dean. She might have to visit you later for a more detailed statement, but she knew an honest mistake when she saw one.

“Eh, I’m saving them a trip,” Dean said. “That’s gas and labor cuttin’ costs right there.”

Donna shook her head, despite a smile.

“All right, Dean. Just go.” She gave you one last look of sympathy. “Feel better, hun. Looks like you’re in good hands.”

You nodded with a small smile. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes and relaxed against Dean.

Dean stayed with you in the Emergency Department while a nurse cleaned the blood from your face, took your vitals, and tested your vision and hearing.

Your blood pressure was high, but that was to be expected. All else fell into the realm of normal, considering. Though when the nurse checked your neck, you grimaced a little when she slowly turned your head from side to side.

“Hmm. Scale of 1 to 10 on the pain?” she asked.

You glanced at Dean, who raised his brows at you expectantly. That look said, Tell the truth.

“I don’t know…4,” you replied.

The nurse gave you a knowing glance. “You can be honest. Is it a 4, or more like a 6?”

You bit your lip. “Okay, a 5.”

“All right. That’s understandable,” she said. The nurse then grabbed a brace to set around your neck. “The doctor will be in shortly to check you out, but likely she’ll order some X-rays, and possibly prescribe you something short-term for the pain.”

You sighed in annoyance. “How long will that take? I need to see my grandfather.”

“Want me to check on him again?” Dean asked. Now that the nurse was done, he came over to where you were sitting on the edge of the examining bed to rest a hand on your back.

He’d made sure George was stable and comfortable in his own room. The ED doctor had ordered blood tests, among other things, since he was a former cancer patient. But also because he had a fever and an elevated blood pressure that didn’t seem to just be related to the crash. He was now sleeping while the hospital ran the rest of their tests.

You turned to Dean with red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes. “I want to see him.”

Dean slipped an arm around you and tucked you against him more securely.

“You will, sweetheart. You just need to get checked out first,” he said. He was worried about you. You seemed all right, but he didn’t like your tendency to forget about yourself. Sometimes, you were a bit too much like him.

You sighed in defeat (for now). But after a moment, your small voice broke through the quiet.

“I should’ve let you look at the car,” you said.

Dean glanced down at you and caught the guilt written across your face. His brows knit together as his heart clenched again.

“Don’t do that,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

“My car, my goddamn fault,” you said through tears.

“Stop, baby,” Dean said. He held you closer, laying a kiss on the top of your head while you tried to stifle your tears.

He waited with you until the doctor finally arrived to examine you. She spotted the same things as the nurse, and after another hour of X-rays (clean of any breaks) and tests (all ultimately fine), she prescribed you an anti-inflammatory pain killer, as well as rest. And of course, if your pain worsened, you were to come back to the ED.

After the doctor left for the last time, Dean agreed to walk you down to your grandfather’s hospital room. George was awake, though he seemed groggy with the pain medication they had him on through the IV. He greeted you and Dean with an attempt at a smile.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. His hand turned over to welcome yours, and he squeezed, seeing the tears in your eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sniffling. “I’m good. How’re you feeling?”

Your gaze drifted to his chart, to the medications and fluids they had him on, what tests were listed…

George’s hand tugged on yours, pulling your attention back to him.

“They’ve got it in hand. Don’t you worry about me,” he said.

You flickered at a smile, as you both knew that wasn’t in the cards. In fact, you’d barely been sitting down on the edge of his bed for a couple of minutes before you were asking if the recline of his bed was comfortable. If he needed more water, or another blanket.

George responded negatively to most of your questions, though he shot Dean an imploring look over your head. The other man nodded and gently grasped your shoulders.

Dean could see why you were blustering around—so you wouldn’t crack from anxiety and exhaustion. But he needed to stop you before you hurt yourself. (Not to mention, before you drove George crazy.)

“Hey, come ‘ere a sec,” said Dean. He guided you into a nearby chair and soothed a hand over your hair. He kneeled down next to you and grabbed your hand. You let out a breath and held onto him back.

“You need to take it easy, okay? Need to,” Dean said, in a quiet but firm tone he didn’t often use with you. He reached for the slip of paper the doctor gave you, now stuffed in your purse. “Everything’s gonna get taken care of. You just relax here, and I’m going to go fill out your prescription.”

Dean waited for you to meet his eyes; he was only satisfied when you nodded in acceptance. He gave you a smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It was comfort and relief, for both of you.

You held him there for a moment with a hand on his cheek. Your fingers traced across his brow, and down his jawline. If it were even possible, after everything he’d done today, you were never more grateful for him than in this moment.

George watched the little scene from his bed with a soft smile.

Finally, he thought. And it meant many things.

After Dean reluctantly pulled away, he promised he’d be back soon. He then left to take your prescription to the closest pharmacy, also fishing out his phone to call Sam and let him know what was going on at the hospital.

Dean had a feeling you all were going to be here for a while.

AN: *exhales* Okay. 😅 A lot going on in this chapter. Another piece of the puzzle, more of why Nick needs his ass handed to him, and a dramatic save. Let me know what you thought!

And please forgive me for where we're going next...

Next Time:

Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

Keep Reading: PART 11

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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spnexploration · 1 year ago

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Enjoyed this! They are going to have some explaining to do when everyone sees her injuries 😬😅 I think all three in the love triangle are going to get hurt, but hopefully two can end up together...?

SNAP Summary- You’d never seen Dean so angry, especially at you and he was a pretty aggressive guy. Companion piece to Not A Fool

Pairing- DeanXReader Warnings- 18+ only, swearing, canon divergence, violence.

A/N- This has been sitting in my drafts for many months and I thought I should just let it be, not edited, sorry.

The hunt, in your opinion, hadn’t gone too badly, or rather as badly as it could have. Both of you were breathing and still in one piece so you couldn’t really say it was a total fail.

You thought back to the morning two days ago when you and Dean had driven out of Harvelle’s farm, the sun was out and Dean was smiling wide in the passenger seat making jokes to try and coax you out of your bad mood. You’d stopped for food as soon as you drove into town, Dean had practically waxed poetic about some Baconater burger he’d discovered on his travels, he’d been right too, you’d have dreams about that burger. Then it was straight to business to get the low-down on the deaths from the local cops, the case was a slightly confusing one, the timelines were off somehow, but neither you or Dean could put your finger on it.

You wondered now if Sam had been here instead of you if the surprise ambush would have been avoided.

Dean had kept good on his promise to let you take the reins and up until the point where you were being strangled by one of three serial killing spirits in an abandoned run down house in the woods, it had actually been fun.

It had been a nice reprieve from how things had been before you went to Harvelle’s. Dean had been different, more closed off from you then he had ever been, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.

You and Dean had fallen into friendship quite easily, well after the initial drunken come-on and subsequent rejection on your part. Dean had even taken you out to buy cassette tapes, on one of their visits to Bobby’s, when you told him you were thinking of putting something more modern than a tape player in the Chevelle. He’d been passionately against you screwing ‘her’ up and even more offended when you told him you’d never listened to any Motorhead or Black Sabbath. So off you both went into Sioux Falls to a small old school cassette store where he picked out a bunch of Dean Winchester approved albums while explaining why you needed them, no Led Zeppelin though since the store was out much to Dean’s dismay.

As Sam and Dean were packing up to leave the next day Dean had walked over to you a little sheepishly and handed you a cassette of his favourite Zeppelin album with orders not to break it or there’d be dire consequences. Sam had looked slightly bewildered so you figured this was not a common gesture from Dean.

After that day you realised you may have judged him a little too quickly, yeah Dean was definitely a womanising, whisky loving, charming goofball with a whole lotta baggage, but above all that he was undeniably a very good man.

You had since genuinely looked forward to the sound of the Impala rolling into Singer’s Salvage Yard knowing that you’d get to hang out with Sam and Dean for atleast a night, well if Bobby didn’t banish you on the grounds of ‘serious shit’ they had shown up for. You didn’t mind about that at all since you weren’t interested in getting involved in any demon or angel business at the time.

Alot of good that did now that Lilith was on your ass.

When Dean found out Lilith wanted you he decided to start treating you as if you didn’t have a competent bone in your body. He was harsher with you and you weren’t really in the mood for his bullshit considering you were still having a hard enough time accepting that you couldn’t just tap out when it got too scary now.

So you had enjoyed the shift back to the old Dean for the last 48 hours.

You glanced over at Dean who was driving your car, you didn’t think it wise to argue with how tightly clenched his jaw was, it was a stark contrast to the easy smile you’d seen from him as he sat shotgun on the way here. Dean hadn’t spoken to you since he half carried you out of the burning house. You pulled away the jacket you were pushing against the gash on your shoulder, blood had seeped through the fabric of your long sleeved shirt starting up near your shoulder and ending near your elbow, you could just see the nasty cut through the rip. You didn’t even know what slashed you, once you entered the rundown house in search of bones to burn, in the basement according to a bunch a traumatised teenagers, Dean didn’t even have time to fully open the door to said basement before the ambush began.

You traced your fingers over your throat , it was already tender to touch. The feeling of being strangled was fresh in your mind, the tightening of whatever the spirit had wrapped around your neck from behind pulling hard and lifting you off the ground, gasping for air and desperately trying to get your fingers underneath it to loosen it’s hold. You don’t think you’d ever been so scared in your life, that was the first time you actually thought your number was up.

Movement caught your eye and you turned your head to look at Dean, his eyes were trained on the fingers on your throat, you dropped your hand into your lap and his eyes flicked up to meet yours. You took a deep inhale at the anger in them, you’d never seen Dean so angry, especially at you and he was a pretty aggressive guy. He quickly looked back to the road, but you saw his hand tighten around the steering wheel until his knuckles were white.

You were at a loss for any reason he was so mad at you, you did everything right, yeah you set the entire basement on fire in a panic, but it worked. Your own anger was starting to build inside your chest, you knew what was waiting for you back at the hotel room, you’d be getting a lecture about how this is the reason you shouldn’t be hunting alone. Honestly you will be the first to admit you didn’t want to hunt, you were perfectly happy safe and sound at Singer Salvage answering phones while Bobby was out on hunts and researching lore from Bobby’s infinite shelves of books.

Finally Dean swerved into the motel parking lot pulling the car into a space infront of the room he made you share with him, despite your protest about wanting a double bed. Dean turned off the car with a heavy sigh. He licked his lips like he was gearing up to say something, he moved to face you eyes flicking between your wounds, his face closed off again suddenly and he was out of the car before you could speak.

You followed him silently to the door as he roughly unlocked it and pushed it open, you closed the door behind you awkwardly standing with your back to it still pressing your jacket to your arm.

“How bad is it?” Dean asked flatly as he sat on his bed.

“It’ll need stitches” you replied, your voice hoarse.

“Shower” Dean gestured to the bathroom door as he ran a hand over his face looking anywhere but at you. You didn’t answer as you grabbed your duffel bag and slammed the door behind you.

You balked at your own reflection in the mirror, you’d been through it alright, you looked like hell. You leaned toward the mirror to inspect the bruise that was already a dark purple around your throat and winced. You let out a long sigh and got to work on getting your shirt off, some of the blood had dried so not a pleasant experience.

The cut looked pretty gnarly, it ran from the top of your shoulder stopping about half way down your bicep. After your shower you went through your bag finding the only black tank top you’d packed and a pair of grey sweatpants, you blowdried your hair grateful the smoke smell hadn’t hung around, you tried to focus on the task at hand rather than letting yourself get worked up at the conversation awaiting you behind that door.

You finally had to force yourself to leave the bathroom, Dean was sitting at the small table in the room, he was holding a bottle of whiskey that you knew was much fuller this morning. Dean kicked a chair infront of him forward gesturing for you to sit. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch” Dean said as you sat down.

“I figured” You replied taking the bottle of whiskey from him and taking a swig, your face screwed up at the burn in your throat, but you took another for good measure.

He took the bottle back of you and placed the opening at the top of your gash, you jerked away as the liquid ran down your arm, holy shit it burned.

“Gotta stay still” Dean murmured as he picked up the needle and thread

You quickly pulled your hair aside staring straight ahead trying to make your body relax as Dean used his hand to move your left arm where he needed. You felt the cold tip of the needle press against your skin and braced yourself. Dean hesitated for a moment before breathing deep and pushing it in.

“If you need to stop tell me” This was the least monotone he'd sounded all night.

“Just get it done” You closed your eyes and tried to breathe deep, you’d sit through this in one go from sheer pride at this point.

“How’s the face?” You asked, he’d gotten a nasty hit to the jaw and a bruise was starting to darken across his cheek.

“Fine” Dean answered bluntly.

You breathed out a deep sigh, no conversation then.

The silence was making you nervous, the suspense of waiting for him to say something, anything was getting too much. You dreaded the argument the whole car ride, but now that you were getting the silent treatment you were ready to hash it out

“Done” Dean said throwing the needle on the table. You felt your body relax in relief, it was still throbbing like hell.

You turned your head, the bruise on his face was not fine it was spreading further by the minute, His expression was tense and his movements sharp. He pushed himself out of his chair and walked towards the small kitchenette grabbing his wallet.

“Dean" you stood to walk towards him, resigned to get him out of this shitty mood.

“Hungry?” He answered gruffly.

“Dean” You said again more forcefully.

“I’m goin’ to get pizza” he darted past you for the door.

“You gonna give me an ‘i told you so’ or not?” You ran a hand through your hair, you were getting bored of this already.

“What’s the point of that, huh?” He whipped around so quick you stepped back even though he was five feet away from you, you weren’t expecting him to raise his voice so suddenly. He’d spent the last hour quietly seething, now he was boiling over.

“Well, you obviously have something on your mind, Dean” you dragged your voice out provokingly.

“Damn right I do, everyone’s lost their frickin’ minds sending you out here alone, especially you! You just want me to sit on my ass at Ellen's until I have to come find whatever's left of you in some Podunk back road town?” He crossed the room towards you, his face dark, you could understand why people and monsters feared Dean Winchester, but you’d be damned if you backed down now.

You leaned back against the kitchen counter arms crossed tightly infront of you. Your arm was throbbing harder from the movement and Dean’s asshole mood was really pushing you to the edge of your patience.

“What the fuck is your problem?” harshly left your mouth before you could stop it.

“You know what my damn problem is, if you were on this hunt alone-“

“No” you interrupted loudly “not just today, I mean in general”

Dean gave you an incredulous look that finally set you off.

“Are you really gonna stand there and pretend like nothings going on? I’m not stupid Dean” You tightened the grip on your crossed arms trying very had not to raise your voice.

“(Y/N) i’m- ” Dean rubbed his fingers across his eyes.

“Because you’ve been pretty damn distant lately and call me crazy I thought we were friends” you pushed yourself off the counter closer to Dean.

“We are, that’s why i know you can’t handle this”

“What do you expect me to do, just stand there and scream? ‘cause it sounds like that's exactly what you’re asking me to do!” You were yelling now.

“I'm asking you to stay out of it, lay low and let us deal with it, this isn’t your fight” Dean was yelling back at you, you'd never admit out loud the shivers that went down your spine at the deep timbre of his voice.

“It is my fight, Lilith made sure of that”

“Well if your best is anything like tonight you’re going to get yourself killed!“ He roared.

“Do you think i want this? I wanted to go home, do you know how scared I am?” Your voice broke but, you were too angry to be embarrassed about it “I’m very aware that when she comes for me there’s no stopping her, but i’m atleast gonna go down fighting"

“What do you mean there’s no stopping her?” Dean snapped back stepping closer, his face incredulous and strained.

“It’s Lilith, no one can!” Your voice sounded half hysterical, Dean of all people should know this.

“Just do what i say and she wont get anywhere near you, stop making this so fucking difficult!” Dean’s was was getting more rage filled by the second.

“Oh, so your gonna protect me from Lilith, are you?” You replied raising your eyebrow. Dean’s jaw clenched, he was so close to you now you could feel his breath on your face “how exactly is that gonna play out? because from what i’ve seen every attempt to stop her hasn't worked” You yelled the last part so loud you were surprised at yourself.

“If Lilith wants you she’s gonna have to go through me and she ain’t gettin’ through me” Dean’s bellowing, deep voice echoed across the room. The resolute way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, his expression was wrathful. The full weight of those words hit you so hard you took a deep breath in surprise, it hadn’t occurred to you that Dean was willing to put himself in between you and the most powerful Demon they knew.

“I-“ You opened your mouth to respond, but a strangled, embarrassing, noise left it instead, you couldn’t think of a response with Dean’s determined gaze staring you down. You could feel the heat of his skin on your own, suddenly you felt much too close to Dean and needed to get space between you.

You didn't have time to put the thought into action before Dean shot forward pressing his mouth hard onto yours, his hands grabbing your arms. It only lasted a moment before he was pulling back and letting you go, he looked as surprised as you must of, only you felt yourself following his mouth, heat burning red across your face when you realised what you were doing.

You stopped yourself from following through, startled at your own reaction, but didn’t move back. Dean’s eyes bounced from your lips to your eyes and back again before he once again moved to fill the space between you, mouth pressing over yours.

There was nothing, slow or sweet about it, your lips moved against each other harshly, needy and wet. His hands were on your waist then sliding up your back pulling you closer until you were pressed together, you still felt like you couldn’t get close enough.

Dean pushed you backwards until your back hit the kitchen counter, his mouth left yours pressing opened mouth kisses along your neck, it was all too much, your arm was throbbing with pain, your chest was heaving and small breathy moans and whimpers were leaving your throat as his hands slid underneath your shirt.

You were pulling at his flannel wanting him closer while your other hand ran through his hair, suddenly you were moving upwards as Dean placed you down on the counter, he stared at you for a moment, green eyes wide and full of want before smashing his lips back onto yours, his hands were back caressing a path up your spine while you held his jaw in both of yours.

Your shirt was being roughly pulled off, your arms suddenly over your head as his gaze took in the sight of your breasts, you hadn’t even bothered with a bra after your shower. He swiped his thumb over your hardened nipple making your body jump at the spark that traveled down to your core, his eyes flicked up to yours dark and needy as he kissed you again, softer than before. He moved his lips back to your neck as his one of his hands cupped your breast, he was driving you crazy. You pushed his flannel off his shoulders and yanked at his black t-shirt until he lifted it over his head.

A noise pierced through your clouded head, a phone was ringing. You turned your head to look to the side until you saw your phone lighting up on the kitchen table, before you could put together a cohesive thought Dean’s hand grabbed your chin and pulled your face back to him, tongue diving into your mouth.

His arm circled around your back and lifted you off the counter until you were pressed tightly to his chest, his skin against yours made you gasp as he let out a deep moan into your mouth, your legs tightened around him holding on. Your head was foggy, you don't think you’ve ever wanted anyone more than you wanted Dean right now.

He ducked his head down flattening his tongue across your nipple, you threw your head back and buried your fingers in his hair as he started sucking, too much, too much but still not enough. You’d never been kissed like this, never been touched like this before. He was so strong and broad, his arms full of muscle, he made you feel safe and warm.

“Dean” your voice sounded hoarse and breathless.

He dropped you down to the counter still pulling you close and making sure your skin was touching everywhere.

“Never thought you'd let me do this” He breathed between wet kisses “Never thought you’d want to”

“I do” You gasped desperately reaching for his belt, he let our a noise almost like a growl and grabbed at your sweatpants and underwear pulling both of them down your thighs at once, you were aching for him, you couldn't wait anymore.

Suddenly he was gone.

Dean had moved back and slammed his hand on the counter beside you before stalking across the room to a bedside table, to his phone.

That’s right your phone had been ringing, now Dean’s was.

“Ellen” Dean answered his voice annoyed.

Ofcourse, you hadn't told anyone you were both fine. A long deep breath filled your chest as you slid of the kitchen counter, knees almost buckling. You pulled your sweatpants back up, Dean was watching you closely still talking to Ellen chest bare and belt undone, you swallowed hard wishing he'd hurry up.

You were kicking yourself for not calling Ellen when you got back, she'd be worried sick by now, Bobby and Sam would be convincing themselves it wasn't silly to drive out here, Jo would be climbing the walls just like you would be if she was out here.

Cold, hard dread washed over your body like ice.

Jo.

You had promised Jo nothing was going on with you and Dean, that you didn't see him like that, you had promised it wouldn't be a problem and she had told you it didn't really matter, but you knew it did.

You told her to go for it and she'd shoved you away cheeks going uncharacteristically red and told you Dean didn't see her like that.

You told her he'd be crazy not to and she'd looked hopeful. She'd said "Sometimes I think he might, but there's always something in the way.

"Just....long day" Dean was saying to Ellen.

Dean was watching you, eyes roaming over your naked chest, swollen lips and surely messy hair. You covered your breasts with your arms feeling very vulnerable all of a sudden.

Dean was going to come back over here when he hung up that phone and you knew if he touched you again you weren't going to be able to stop this deep aching from taking over.

You saw the phone fall from Dean's ear almost in slow motion, already stepping back towards you looking purposeful, like he knew exactly what he wanted.

You darted for the bathroom door slamming it closed behind you and almost falling over in your haste, you couldn't do this. Not to Jo, not after you told her you didn't see Dean like that, told her to 'go for it'.

She trusted you.

"(Y/N)" Dean knocked on the door.

"I... I just need a minute" You called back panicked.

"Are you.. you okay?" Dean sounded worried.

"I'm fine" You moved to look at yourself in the mirror.

You looked ravished, your cheeks warmed with colour at the sight of your swollen lips and flushed skin, you covered your breasts ashamed with yourself.

You sat down on the toilet, head in your hands taking deep breaths, How did this happen?

You never thought Dean would want you like this, you couldn't say you hadn't entertained the thought. When you'd met Sam and Dean you'd had plenty, but after Dean had come onto you after one too many beers at Bobby's you'd rejected him and his invitation to be a notch on his bedpost.

If anything you'd thought your only chance with a Winchester was Sam, you got along wonderfully, but even that was a stretch, you never thought you were Sam's type let alone Dean's.

Men like Dean Winchester didn't want girls like you, they ended up with strong women like Jo. You were the girl who stayed on the side lines and did research, you weren't brave, you were terrified half the time.

Your not sure how long you sat there contemplating your betrayal until the sound of the hotel door closing brought you back to reality. You listened for movement for a brief moment before slowly opening the bathroom door. The hotel room was empty, Dean was gone.

You picked up your tank top from the ground, pulling it over your head as you walked to the window, pushing the curtain aside. The Impala was still parked there, no sign of Dean.

You weren't really sure what your next move was here.

It was surely going to be awkward conversations and half hearted embarrassed smiles from now on. Maybe Dean wouldn't even bring it up again, maybe once his head had cleared he'd realised this was a mistake too.

Maybe you wouldn't even have to talk about it at all.

You turned the TV on to distract your wandering mind, it had been probably half an hour before you heard keys in the door. Your body tensed and your heart started racing, but you remained sitting casually on the chair.

Dean walked into the room holding a pizza and a six pack, he stood there awkwardly for a moment like he was unsure if he should come in.

"Great, i'm starving" You smiled up at him willing yourself to be normal.

Dean seemed to relax a bit and moved to join you.

"Hope you feel like plain ol' pepperoni" He said while opening the box and grabbing a piece before thudding back into his chair and cracking a beer.

"What did Ellen want?" You asked while picking up a piece of your own.

"She was just checking in, got worried" Dean answered, the pizza seemed too thick to swallow.

You ate in silence for a while, pretending like everything was fine, just like you wanted. Naturally Dean didn't let things lie.

"Listen (Y/N)" Dean spoke with a sudden confidence as the credits for whatever sitcom was on started rolling on tv.

"Dean, can we not?" You pleaded turning to look at him imploringly.

"I don't really want to do this either, but I think we should clear the air" He answered.

"It's fine Dean" You replied lifting the side of your mouth in a small, reassuring smile.

"You locked yourself in the bathroom" He replied taking a sip of his beer not making eye contact.

"I just, I just didn't want to do something while things were....heated that we'd regret later" You couldn't even look at him while you said it.

"Regret" Dean mumbled looking down at the floor.

You were so bad at this.

"Dean, you're my friend, I hope you are anyway" You frowned, Dean looked up over at you surprised.

"Ofcourse I am" He looked half pained.

"Can we just pretend this didn't happen?" You begged.

He was quiet for too long, staring at you with that wounded look you hated.

"Sure" He took a long swig for his beer before wiping his mouth and standing.

"Going to grab a shower and hit the hay, long day tomorrow" He continued while grabbing his duffle-bag and closing the bathroom door behind him.

That had to be done, it was only ever going to be sex with Dean, you wouldn't risk your friendship with Jo for one night with Dean Winchester.

Being the one on the otherside of a locked bathroom door was oddly lonely.

#fic recs #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #jo harvelle #love triangle

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destieltropecollection · 6 months ago

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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 31: Cabin Fic

Crystal Clear | @envydean Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,981 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Modern AU, Anniversary, Blowjobs, lakeside cabin vacation, Dean's not a fan of lake water Summary: Dean and Cas are at the lakeside cabin for a long weekend. It's their 15th anniversary and Cas finds a cunning way to get him to swim in the lake.

Touching Perfection | @anyreiart Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,439 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Universe, Smut, Friends to Lovers Vacation, Feel-good, human!Cas Summary: Dean is finally ready to make a move on Cas. So he takes him on a vacation.

Cabin In The Woods | @anyreiart Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,894 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Universe, Bottom Castiel, Top Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Somnophilia, BDSM Undertones Summary: Dean takes Cas on a vacation. Confessions happen.

Cabin Fever | @eyesofatragedy67 & @punk-is-notdead Rating: Explicit Word Count: 14,519 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jody Mills, Jo Harvelle, Ellen Harvelle, Enemies to Lovers, There Was Only One Bed, Miscommunication is the Real Villain, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Humor, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Spit As Lube, Dirty Talk, Castiel Loves Bees, Dean Loves Dr. Sexy Summary: Following a booking mixup for a remote hideaway, two strangers agree to share. Nothing quite goes according to plan, and it looks like a misunderstanding will kill any chance of a friendship, but does "fate" have other plans?

The Impetuous Engagement | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 27,207 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern Setting AU, Snowed In, Sharing a Bed, Engaged Castiel, No Cheating Summary: It’s early December and Castiel Novak, quite unlike him, is on a plane to Fairbanks, Alaska, at the other end of his world, after the man he met online, Michael Milton, proposed to him. Michael is sensitive, gallant, and romantic, and after months of daily, intense correspondence, Castiel believes he’s the only one who he ever truly connected with. On his way there, however, due to a series of bad luck and Mother Nature, Castiel somehow finds himself stuck in a small village, in the middle of nowhere, cut off from the rest of the world and with no way of reaching Michael. Indefinitely. To make matters worse, Dean Winchester, Castiel’s fellow passenger—who asks way too many invasive questions, doesn’t have an ounce of subtlety, and isn’t as charming as he thinks he is—seems to be the only option for Castiel to find shelter in the meantime. And Dean, being acquainted with the fiancé in question, and aware that he is not to be trusted, is very eager to help Castiel with housing, and perhaps something more as well…

The Places We Hide | @therighteousmanlovesanangel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 39,827 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Crowley, Lee Webb/Dean Winchester, Past Character Death, Gunshot Wounds, Show level violence, Divorce, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Grief/Mourning, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Human Castiel, (Supernatural)hunting au, Hermit Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Imagine there's no Heaven(ly influence), John died in this AU instead of Mary, Wendigo, Undine OFC, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean/Cas Big Bang 2022 (Supernatural) Summary: Castiel is going through it. He’s been dumped by his husband and demoted at work. A walk in the woods to clear his head makes it all horrifically worse. Luckily, he is saved by a bearded stranger. Through his recovery Castiel searches for the man in the woods. When he finds Dean, an unlikely friendship grows. As Cas comes to terms with the way his life is changing, Dean opens up a whole new world to him.

A Midwinter's Dream | @li-izumi Rating: Mature Word Count: 53,245 Main Tags/Warnings: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Season/Series 09, Season/Series 10, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Minor Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester, Dreams and Nightmares, Christmas, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Christmas is fast approaching, but Dean doesn’t feel like celebrating--he’s too busy hunting for that sort of thing. Though he promises to get Cas back in time for the epic Christmas party Sam’s been planning, Dean has no intention of staying himself. That may be another promise Dean can’t keep when the hunt goes wrong, trapping Dean and Cas far from civilization. Worse, Dean is plagued by unrelenting nightmares of his time with the Mark of Cain and is gripped by a lingering anger that he can’t seem to escape. Back at the Bunker, Sam and the others are working a little Christmas magic they hope will show Dean the light in the dark—and prove to him that the holiday spirit isn’t something he needs to hunt.

Alpha Seeking Omega | @samanddean76 Rating: Mature Word Count: 66,666 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel, Alpha Jimmy Novak, Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Lucifer, Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Past Abuse (but not really as the treatment is part of the societal structure), Past Malnourishment, Mystery To Be Solved, Mating, Knotting, True Mates, Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Revenge, Or Justice, Castiel and Jimmy Novak are Twins, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Mpreg, Eventual Happy Ending, Cabin Fic Summary: Omega Dean has lived a harsh life prior to being selected to be a demonstration model at a party unveiling the latest product that Morningstar Enterprises is set to produce. Alphas Castiel and Jimmy Novak are guests of honor at the event, but when they lay eyes on the Omega that is clearly at the center of something that was not a part of the party, the twins leap into action. Unfortunately, they are separated. Now Jimmy must keep Dean safe until Castiel can be rescued. But the more that Jimmy learns about this very well-trained Omega, the more he questions what was really going on that night. The problem is will he be able to figure out the puzzle and still rescue his brother?

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #cabin fic

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celest-writes · 2 months ago

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Supernatural Fic: Survivors Guilt - Ch 4

If you would like to read the previous chapters, here are the links1: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, and Chapter 3.

Now, onto Chapter 4!

『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』『••✎••』

Chapter 4

Dean is snapped out of his daze once again as the back door can be heard opening and footsteps coming up behind him. A gentle hand is placed on his shoulder.

“Hey Dean..” Jo’s voice is low and soft.

Dean turns and smiles, “Hey Jo, Ellen here too?”

“Yup, and Ash. Bobby wanted a bit of extra help and he figured we could help.” Jo explains.

Dean nods before asking. “What about Rufus?”

“He’s busy on a hunt of his own, something in uh..” Jo pauses before continuing, “Oh yeah, something in like New Jersey.”

Dean nods, still staring at the swing where the small Sam once was. Jo frowns and rubs his shoulder.

“Come back inside Dean, we’ve got a case to work.” Jo insists.

Dean sighs and turns to face her before walking back inside. Dean is greeted by Ellen with a hug and a hand shake from Ash. They all sit down at the kitchen table, reading over every little detail there could be.

“Bobby, didn’t John have something similar to this happen?” Ellen raises a brow.

Bobby shrugs and looks over at Dean. Dean’s eyes go wide and he quickly gets up, running into the living room and ripping open his bag.

“Dean?” Ash leaned back in his seat to look at him.

Dean quickly walks back over and flips through John’s journal before stopping on a page.

“Yellow eyed demon..” Dean’s voice is weak as he reads those three words.

“Well I’ll be damned..” Bobby clenches at the kitchen table slightly.

Jo, Ellen, and Ash all look at each other. The dots connected. This is the demon that took Dean’s family from him. Dean grits his teeth and slams the journal shut.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean raises his voice and storms out of the room.

Jo starts to walk towards him but Ellen stops her and shakes her head. “Leave him be honey.. leave him be.”

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fandom #spnfandom #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #ellen harvelle #jo harvelle #ash supernatural #fanfic #writers on tumblr #ao3 writer #angst

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deancaspinefest · 8 months ago

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Whatever Makes You Happy | Explicit | 27, 629

Author: Rex_Writes

Artist: KitShay

An aspiring songwriter, Dean Winchester spends his days in the local coffee shop, which just happens to be run by the most gorgeous man he has ever seen, Castiel Novak. This gorgeous man becomes his muse, songs flow out of Dean’s pen with the speed of a rushing river. Unfortunately, just like getting his songs heard, Castiel is just another thing Dean can’t have. He’s had his heart broken by a straight guy before and he can’t go through that again. Thankfully, Dean meets Lee Webb who is an amazing singer, AND he’s actually interested in Dean. Will Dean stay with the man who’s a sure thing or will he risk everything for whatever makes him happy?

Link to fic | Link to art

Pairings: Dean/Cas (Dean/Lee Webb, Jo Harvelle/Charlie Bradbury)

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe-Coffee Shop, Songwriter!Dean, Coffee Shop Owner!Castiel, Dean Winchester is an idiot, First Kiss, Angst with a Happy Ending

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #destiel art #deancas fic #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #2024 masterpost #masterpost #submission #author: rex writes #artist: kitshay

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spnexploration · 1 year ago

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Beautiful imagery throughout, especially as she was waking up. Angsty but super sweet, too ❤️

The Hero Always gets a Kiss

Jo Harvelle x Dean Winchester

for @sdavid09 daily writing challenge

Prompt 6: Favorite Trope

908 words

When her eyes flickered open, she was staring at a dim fluorescent light. The yellow gleam caused her face to wrinkle and her eyes to flutter closed again as she groaned. Her body was heavy and there was a dull ache shooting down her spine but she tried to sit up anyway. A weight pushed gently on her shoulders keeping her in place and she groaned again, her hand lifting to push away whatever was holding her down. Her eyes opened slowly this time, blinking away a haze that obscured the face in front of her.

His eyes were wide and bloodshot and there were deep bags underneath them. His emerald orbs watched her carefully as his hands rested on her shoulders, explaining the weight holding her down. A hand rose to rest against her head while she rested the other on his forearm. It took her a moment to process everything and fully come back to consciousness. Sounds around her were a dull drone in her ear but they were slowly coming into focus as well. Taking in a shaky breath, she turned her head to the man who had her in his grasp and she focused slowly on him until he came clearly into view.

Keep reading

#fic recs #chestervelle #jo harvelle #dean winchester #dean winchester x jo harvelle #dean winchester angst #dean winchester hurt/comfort

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rubyvhs · 5 months ago

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berry vodka [jo harvelle]

masterlist

summary; too many shots lead to the confession you’ve been keeping inside for seven months. tags; bi!fem!reader, angst, fluff, insecurities in sexuality but no details, not proofread. — verse: berry vodka next part (smut)

“C’mon, Dean, I’ve done everything you’ve asked for, I’ve tried—”

“Wasn’t enough if the demon’s still out there!” His voice is so clear it makes me shake. I’ve known Dean for years and years, he’s hardly ever raised his voice at me. No one respects women more than he and his brother do, and not once have they yelled at me no matter what I did— and now he’s screaming, for what? Because I let some demon outsmart me for two seconds?

I scoff and storm out of the bedroom we were fighting in. It was a stupid hunt right next to Ellen’s hence why we’re staying at the roadhouse for the week, so i end up at the bar.

Thankfully, so is my favorite blond. “Hey, Jo.” She smiles wide, waving, and in return dropping the shot glass in her hands to the counter.

“Hi, berry. You’ve been kind of hot and heavy with Dean these days. You okay?” I roll back so I’m sitting straight.

“Thanks,” I blow a kiss when she hands me a Berry Vodka, “we’re ‘kay, he’s just being an asshole.”

She agrees with me (though I’ve yet to tell her what he’s being an asshole about) which makes me lean forward on the bar. “I mean, I’m his friend and you’d think that after hunting together for so long he’d stop blaming me for guys hitting on me.”

Her eyes widen and this time she almost drops the glass on accident, though it’s hardly a close call as she easily regains her composure. “He— what?”

“What?”

“Dean what?”

“He got mad at me?”

“For guys flirting?”

“Yes.”

“Why—” she clears her throat and looks back down at her work, still moving, “why would he— why? Is he like— does he like you?”

“Does Dean—” I let out a laugh, “does Dean like me? Did hell freeze over? No, of course not. He’s not jealous, he’s overprotective. He’s being an ass but he isn’t in love with me.”

“Good,” she lets out a small breath and my heart seizes. Yeah, of course it’s good. Jo’s always been in love with Dean, him liking me would cause a bit of an issue. “I mean— whatever. Yeah. Anyways, why’s he fighting with you anyways?”

“I let a demon go. Thought he was an overly eager guy so I sent him on his way.”

“How’s that your fault?”

“He… might have mentioned he’s a demon— but I thought he was trying to be funny or something, I didn’t know he actually was one. Turns out he wanted to find Sam and Dean. He has something on Yellow Eyes.”

“You guys getting close, then?” One quick nod. The heavy alcohol in the drink burns as I try to finish as much of it as possible at once. I hand it back to Jo and ask for just shots. “You sure?” Another nod.

I need to let go tonight if I’ll be awake and attentive with the guys tomorrow on their wild goose chase. She hands me one shot and I shake my head. She furrowed her eyebrows. “C’mon Jo, I’ll pay.”

“That’s not it and you know it. You can’t drink.”

“What does that even—” she glared at me and maybe, okay, so sometimes I get a little crazy when I’m drunk but so what? I just flirt and dance, it isn’t like I hurt anyone. Besides, waking up with someone in my bed tomorrow could maybe solve all my problems. “Let me have it, Jo. I just need one night, I deserve it.” That seems like the magic word for everyone in my life at the moment.

I die for Dean once and suddenly I have a free pass for the rest of my life. If I’d known, I would’ve died for the jackass sooner. Sam brought me back the same day but still— everyone lets me have it.

She stares at me like she’s contemplating it and then gives in with a sigh. From that point on I’m being served shot after shot and I’m more than sure my tab is so high I won’t be able to pay half of it when the night ends. Jo starts serving me much cheaper brands as the night went on— I’m sure she knows that too.

Three shots later, I’m still sober enough to taste the vodka cheapening. “Jooo,” I draw out her name, “you’re not doin’ enough! I need to get drunk, not bored.”

“Slow down, honey.” I shake my head though my ears heat up at the endearment. No time for that now. Two shots more and I’m officially buzzed. Buzzed enough to not notice Dean sit down next to me.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I shake my head quickly and stand up mumbling something about it being a good night and he seems to take the rejection well, sitting in place as I walk to the empty pool table.

Immediately as I’m racking the balls up, someone’s hands are on my waist. “You wanna give me a round, honey?” And because I literally have nothing better to do, I let the Sam-height, almost Cass-level-hot guy play pool with me.

His facial hair covers most of his face, which actually looks way too good, but his blue eyes look really really beautiful and I can’t stop staring. “Yes. Yeah.” He smirks and moves his hands away.

“What are we playing for?” I almost answer, I’m not sure what to say, before his deep voice comes from behind me. His hands aren’t on my waist, but he might as well swallow me whole if he’ll make me feel this small.

“A hundred bucks, how about that, man?”

“And who are you?”

“Her friend.” Dean has a hand on my shoulder. Asking loudly enough for the other guy to hear, “you mind me playin’, sweetheart?”

Obviously, I shake my head and we get started. I’m winning so far, the guy— Stefan or something— is downright embarrassing at the game. Dean is letting me and I’m drunk enough to not care. Three more hits and i sigh. “I want drinks.”

Stefan perks up from his round, “I’ll go get ‘em. What do you drink, honey?” He asked for my name ages ago and I gave it but he doesn’t seem to like it.

“I will go get them.” Dean decides and taps the taller man’s shoulder once. That’s smart. I’m not sure why it is— but it is. Stefan’s closer now. Too close.

“I like girls.” I whisper, or blurt, or something that means I say it so fast and so low that I don’t hear or understand it myself.

“You— what?”

“I’m into girls. M’sorry. You’re so close. M’not kissing you.”

“Yeah, I— I wasn’t.” He furrowed his eyebrows but I just shrugged and moved further back. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” I mean, he asked me if I wanted another round by trapping me into the pool table.

I must’ve said it outloud because, “I didn’t trap you, I mean, I held you but that’s because you were kinda off your feet. I apologize if—”

“Oh. M’sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. It isn’t your fault.”

“Good.” I smile and move closer now. He’s warm when I’m not worried he’s trying to get in my pants. I’m not exclusively into girls— only half way, I’m bi, but it seemed like the easiest way to disgust and run away a man.

We talk, enough for me to know his dogs name and for him to know that Dean means well, he’s just worried because I’m drunk, and that he isn’t my boyfriend.

“You sure? Does he know that?” I glance over at the hunter, speaking to Jo with those twinkling green eyes.

I nod once and tell him we should keep playing. Dean seems occupied. We keep going and set the balls up evenly again. The first round I’ve won two hundred from both men, then we decided to play for nothing and I’m regretting it cause I could’ve really made my bill if I kept receiving money with the way I’m winning.

“You’re good.” He’s sweet. I get his number and we talk— promise to keep in touch for when I come back to town and just as he’s about to leave I catch up with him.

“Stefan,” I call out once and then I trip over something. Faster than light, I’m already draped over his arm. Falling and whatever. He wants to say something but I quickly straighten up to kiss him, moving my fingers through his hair. He seems to enjoy that, pulling me closer. Then he pulls away.

“How much have you been drinking?”

“What?” That’s not a question you ask someone that’s sleeping with you. Or planning to.

“How many drinks?”

“I— I don’t know like so little,” he shakes his head, “only five.”

“Five?”

“Shots.” He lets out a scoff and walks me back to the bar. I’m sure I’m pouting by both the looks on Dean and Jo’s faces and by the pull of my mine. And maybe Stefan’s laugh. He hands me off to them and I wave at him. He makes me promise to call tomorrow and I nod. “He was so nice. Why don’t nice guys go for me?” I groan, banging my head against the wood of the bar softly.

“That’s not true.” I know it’s Jo who says that which makes it even worse. Of course you’d think that. You’re trying to get me to leave so you can suck Dean’s face off. It’s not fair. He gets all the girls. Always. Even the ones I really like.

“Whatever.” I take out the two hundred and hand it to Jo. “Keep it.”

“Berry, that’s a hundred and twenty five tip.”

I shrug and stand out of the chair. “M’gonna go to sleep.” Heading up the stairs proves to be a lot harder than i initially planned and so I just give up halfway through and sit down with my head in my hands and tears flowing too fast for me to comprehend why they’re there. This sucks. Having feelings suck. Why can’t I be an angel or demon or something devoid of emotions? Why can’t I be heartless like— I don’t know— Dean!

“Ouch, sweetheart.” I need to stop speaking my thoughts out loud. “I agree with you there. What’s wrong, berry?”

“I hate that stupid nickname.”

He frowns, sitting down next to me, a step below. “Why’s that?”

“‘Cause she came up with it and s’not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“That she likes you. She always likes you. And I like you too, De, but this is so annoying like why can’t she love me! Why am I not enough to love? S’it ‘cause I’m not a man? I don’t wanna be a stupid man, I like being a girl. Why can’t girls just like me without me being a guy!” I cant even comprehend the words before they’re out and I just wish Dean would hold me and comfort me. Or maybe make Jo fall in love with me magically.

“Who likes me, berry?”

“Jo! Stupid Jo! And I’ve been the best friend ever and she still doesn’t like me. She’ll never like me and it’s ‘cause I’m a girl.” Deans beautiful face scrunches up into a frown and he shakes his head.

“D’ya tell her you like her?” No. “Well there you go. You need to tell her so you can know if she likes you back or not.”

“N’what if she doesn’t?”

“I’ll still love you.” I smile at the words, “and Jo will always be your friend.” Who are you and what have you done with Dean? “Oh, shut up.”

“Dean,” I whisper after a moment. “Can you tell Jo?”

He shakes his head.

“Can Sam tell her?” He shakes his head again.

“Tell who what?” Oh that’s Jo.

“Tell you I like you.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dean leave a room, or staircase, as fast as he just did. Ever. “Like you like you. Like i want to kiss you all day and I want to hold you— but I can’t ‘cause you like Dean.”

Her eyes are still wide which probably mean she hates me now but my legs aren’t working so I don’t stand up, just wallow in my guilt and failure in front of her.

“Berry, you mean it?” I nod once but keep my head down. Her soft fingers hook under my chin and I look up at her. She’s closer now. Very very much closer. Close enough for me to taste the vanilla perfume i got for her last birthday. She’s close enough to—

Jo’s kissing me. Jo Harvelle’s lips are moving against mine, gentle, but desperate. Hard and soft. Everything all at once and it’s better than I could’ve imagined. I think it’s so good i forget to kiss back because she stops to backtrack, small stutters of I’m sorry and I shouldn’t so I quickly stand up (wow, my legs are back) and kiss her a little too roughly I slip my tongue in there.

“Jo,” I moan against her mouth and she nods but doesn’t acknowledge it. I’m sobering up. Too sober to be in a situation I’ve imagined a thousand times a day for the past seven months.

“Jo, bedroom— please.” She nods quicker this time and pulls away enough for me to breathe and take the image of her kiss-flushed face in. She’s everything I’ve ever imagined and needed but I can’t do this.

“Jo, I can’t—” she stops right in front of her room. “I don’t— I love you. And I can be here for you if you’re… I don’t know experimenting but, you need to tell me. I can’t just be a phase, Jo.”

“M’not. C’mon, hey,” she presses another kiss on my lips, slow, “I love you too. You know that. You must’ve known that I’ve loved you ever since you and those idiots came into the roadhouse, but you’re just, you know so much and I didn’t know if you’d ever want someone who doesn’t even know their own sexuality or—”

Now it’s my turn to shut her up with a kiss and I push us into her room. “Shut up. So are we—”

“Yes.” She smiles against me. “You’re mine, berry.”

#jo harvelle #jo harvelle x reader #spn crack #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural smut #supernatural rewrite #spn fanart #sam winchester #spn rant #spn cast #dean winchester #dean x reader #castiel #bisexual #laila writes!!

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deancasbigbang · 2 months ago

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Title: I'm Not Living Here Without You

Author: Avonlady

Artist: TwinOne

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel; Meg Masters/Bela Talbot; mentioned Gabriel/Kali; past Charlie Bradbury/Dorothy; implied Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle

Length: 26229

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; Cancer Diagnosis

Tags: Dean/Cas Established Relationship; Castiel has cancer; Angst; fluff; explicit sexual content; Dean Winchester wears panties; Dean Winchester is in denial; minor character death; grieving; eventual happy ending (Castiel lives)

Posting Date: November 5, 2024

Summary: Castiel promised Dean that they would be together forever. They met when they were just kids and they were each other’s first everything. They are happy and have an unbreakable bond that makes them the envy of everyone around them. Everything changes 15 years into their marriage when Castiel is diagnosed with cancer and the doctors aren’t very hopeful that the treatments will work. Dean is crushed and spends a lot of time in denial while trying to find a cure for his husband. Castiel knows that his dying will destroy Dean, so he fights as hard as he can to stay alive for his husband’s sake.

Excerpt: “Cas, have you seen my green tie?” Dean yells towards the living room from their bedroom. “I think it’s in the closet.” His husband’s voice yells back at him. Dean keeps searching, but he isn’t having any luck finding it. Tonight is their 15-year-wedding-anniversary dinner and he wants it to be special. Dean knows how much Castiel likes his green tie because it brings out his eye color, so he needs to find it, no matter how long it takes. He hears someone clear their throat and he turns around to see Castiel holding his tie, a snarky grin plastered on his face. Dean reaches for it, and begins tying it as he speaks. “Thanks, babe. Where did you find it?” “It was right where you left it last, on the bed in the guest room.” “Why the hell did I leave it there?” “I don’t know. I’m not sure it would be safe for anyone to try to figure out what goes on in that gorgeous head of yours.” Dean grabs Castiel by the back of the neck and pulls him closer, kissing him on the lips. “Do you think we have time to fool around a little before we go?” Dean says with a waggle of his eyebrows. “We do not have time, Dean. The reservation is in an hour. We can always fool around when we get home.” Castiel gives him a swat on the ass. “Now, finish getting ready. I’m hungry.” Castiel leaves the room and Dean watches him as he walks away. He will never take for granted how lucky he is to have been able to marry his childhood sweetheart. Castiel makes him so happy and he knows he would be lost without him. That’s why he tries to show him everyday how much he loves him. They met in 1st grade, two years after Dean’s mom, Mary, died of cancer and his father’s soul died right along with her. Dean didn’t talk for two years, but the moment he saw Castiel and glanced into those blue eyes that gave Dean hope that good things still existed, he finally found his voice again. Dean didn’t like to talk much about Mary and John became a living ghost once she was gone, so Dean and Sam were raised by John’s brother, Bobby. Dean hasn’t seen John in 15 years. They have been distant ever since John made a scene at Dean and Castiel’s wedding spouting hatred about how Mary would be rolling over in her grave if she knew her eldest son was marrying a man. Castiel broke his nose and told him if he ever came near Dean again, he would do worse. That moment just cemented the fact that he was going to be with Castiel forever.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2024 #fic preview #2024 promo #deancas #destiel

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pink-sparkly-witch · 1 year ago

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The One That Got Away - Chapter Fifteen

Warnings: angst, injuries, fluff, flirting.

Words: 1.7k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

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“Try to get some rest,” Y/N smiled at her patient and exited the room, heading back to the main desk to see who was next on the list. In two sweet hours, she’d finish her shift and finally get some proper time off.

Jess’ premature departure meant she and all of the nurses on her staff had banded together to cover more shifts than usual as they waited for a temporary replacement to start. It had been exhausting, and Y/N was surprised at how quickly she’d fallen out of the habit of pulling a seventy hour week, but it was finally over. The new nurse had started yesterday, and normal shift service had resumed for her and her team.

There was another reason for her excitement: her date with Dean was in fourteen hours. Not that she was counting. Y/N had been disappointed they had to postpone their date last week, even more disappointed they couldn’t fit it in last week. However, these things happened, and Dean had been right; absence made the heart grow fonder. Not that she’d tell him that. He didn’t need the extra ego boost.

“Y/N”, Dr Ellen Harvelle said as she arrived at the check-in desk, ready to take another patient. “Got an emergency four minutes out. Someone from Firehouse 3 has been injured on a job. Normally I wouldn’t ask, but everyone else is tied up.”

“I’m on it, Dr H,” Y/N replied, trying to push down the dread rising from her stomach. Throwing herself into action, she gowned up and ran to the ambulance bay. Please don’t be Dean or Bobby. Please don’t be Dean or Bobby. Was all that was running through the nurse’s head as she swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

Sirens blaring and lights flashing, the ambulance screeched to a stop in front of them, immediately followed by the firetruck. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, but the second Dean and Bobby jumped from the engine, Y/N exhaled deeply and relaxed.

“You good?” Ellen asked, and she nodded and jumped into action.

“What have we got?” Y/N asked, stepping up to the ambulance and waiting for the paramedic’s assessment.

“Castiel Novak, thirty-five, trapped by a falling beam from the ceiling of a burning building. He was found unconscious, breathing apparatus dislodged. Suspect the collapse of both lungs and damage to the airways from smoke inhalation. Compressions have been ongoing since he crashed about thirty seconds ago,” Jack spoke as he and Jo got the gurney out of the ambulance.

“Alright, Y/N, we’re gonna need to do a ride-along,” Ellen said.

“What can we do?” Bobby asked calmly, though his widened eyes showed his concern.

“We need to keep compressions going. Jack, do everything Y/N tells you. Guys,” she directed to the firefighters surrounding her, “on my say, help me move him to trauma bay three. Y/N? Whenever you’re ready.”

Y/N climbed on the gurney and straddled Castiel’s thighs. “Alright, Jack. On the count of three, pull away, and I’ll take over, okay?” she waited until Jack met her gaze and nodded his understanding before placing one hand on top of the other and clasping her fingers together.

“One, two, three!” Seamlessly, Jack pulled his hands away, and Y/N replaced them with her own, not missing a beat as she began pumping Castiel’s chest firmly.

“Let’s move!” Ellen ordered, and Dean and Benny stepped forward and pushed Castiel and Y/N into the hospital.

Having suffered a collapse of both lungs, a concussion, and damage to his respiratory system from smoke inhalation, Castiel was in a serious but stable condition. He was responding well to treatment, but the next twenty-four hours would be critical, and Y/N knew there would be a vigil of firefighters in the waiting room until he was out of the woods.

With her shift just about over, Y/N checked on Cas one last time and updated his chart before handing his care over to Kevin. She wanted to stay on and work a double, but when she spoke to Rowena about it, the red-head told her that she’d reached her quota of hours for the week and reminded her she’d already pulled two doubles this week and to go home before she fell down and she was the one lying in a hospital bed.

Closing her locker, Y/N threw her purse over her shoulder and let her hair loose from the uncomfortably tight and itchy bun it had been constricted for the past fifteen hours.

Making her way to the waiting room to give the firehouse her final update, she smiled slightly, seeing all the firefighters were no longer in their turnout gear. Jackets and helmets were no longer strewn all over the tables, chairs and floor. Y/N remembered from Pamela and Taylor that half of them would’ve taken the truck back, changed their clothes, and brought food back for the others before they would go back and change out of their gear.

“Y/N, what’s the latest?” Uncle Bobby asked as he saw her standing in the doorway.

“He’s responding well to treatment. His oxygen levels are coming up. There’s still a long way to go, but he’s definitely going in the right direction,” she responded.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for him,” Uncle Bobby smiled and walked towards her. “Is your shift over, Princess?”

“Yeah, I wanted to stay, but-”

“You reached your quota again, didn’t you?” Bobby chuckled.

“Maybe…” Y/N grinned. “But, there were extenuating circumstances this week which have been resolved.”

“So, you’re telling me it’s not gonna become the norm for you to go above and beyond?” he smirked, his eyes twinkling as he teased her.

“I hope not,” Y/N smiled softly, her eyes falling on Dean, and Bobby grinned, hoping, just like his niece, that things would work out between the couple.

“You should say goodbye to him before you go,” Bobby told her softly. Y/N nodded and stepped tentatively towards where Dean stood with Benny and Charlie.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean smiled as she stepped beside him. “Thanks for what you did for Cas.”

“It’s nothing, just doing my job,” she lowered her gaze shyly.

“Modest much?” Charlie chuckled. “What you did was heroic!”

“Oh no, that’s not… I don’t… You guys are the real heroes here,” Y/N shifted on her feet, uncomfortable with the attention.

“Uh, can I talk to you? Outside?” Dean said, gently pushing her towards the door and she nodded gratefully at his timely rescue.

“Thanks for getting me out of there, De,” she giggled as they stepped outside.

“Well, Charlie is right about the modest thing. You’ve never done well with attention or praise,” he chuckled softly. “So, I hate to do this, but about tonight-”

“Hey, it’s fine, Dean. You’re where you need to be, and Cas is more important than our date,” Y/N said.

Dean smiled, grateful that she got it. Though he wouldn’t say Cas was more important than her, he was a higher priority right now. “Thanks for understanding, Princess. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better,” she grinned.

“Cross my heart,” Dean smirked. “Now, your shift is over, Nurse Singer, and I think you should go home and sleep. You look dead on your feet.”

“Yeah. I feel like I could sleep until I’m back on shift!” Y/N chuckled.

“Well, if you don’t pass out for four whole days,” Dean laughed. “Call me when you’ve had some rest. Maybe we could rearrange our date?”

“I’d like that,” Y/N nodded and tried to suppress a yawn.

“Go home! Text me when you get there so I know you’re safe,” Dean said, kissing her forehead.

“Alright, I’m going! Keep me updated on Cas, please?” she responded as she stepped backwards away from Dean.

“You got it,” Dean smiled, watching her turn around and walk down the hallway.

“Hey, Y/N!” he shouted, smirking when she turned around. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good night, handsome,” Y/N grinned back before turning and continuing down the hallway.

Y/N spent her first day off sleeping for three to four hours, eating, watching television, doing chores for three to four hours, and then going back to sleep. During one of her awake times, she’d called Dean, and he’d happily let her know that Cas was officially “stable” and out of the woods. He’d be on his feet and heading home in no time.

They’d agreed to wait a few days before planning their date so Dean could be on hand to help Cas if he needed it. No doubt he’d be feeling the impact of the damage to his lungs and airways for a few weeks yet and would likely tire doing the most mundane of tasks.

Dean had apologised profusely and again promised to make it up to her, but Y/N convinced him there was no need, and she didn’t mind waiting a little longer for him.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?” she’d teased him.

“So they tell me,” Dean huffed lightly, suggesting just a hint of frustration.

“Come on, De. We’ve waited twelve years. What’s a few more days?” Y/N chuckled, trying to lighten his mood.

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I need to like it, Princess.”

“Aww, are you missing me?” she teased again.

“Yeah, I am,” he sighed, and Y/N’s heart ached.

“Well, I know Cas will be taking up a lot of your time the next few days, but you know where I am if you wanna come over for dinner.”

“If I can, I will, sweetheart,” he sighed again. “Just wish I could promise.”

“Then promise to give me the best second date ever,” she giggled.

“Now that I can promise,” Dean said, and Y/N could hear the grin in his voice.

“Oh, I know you will!” Y/N giggled again, and Dean chuckled softly.

“I gotta go, Princess. I’ll call you later?”

“Can’t wait! Bye, De.”

“Bye, Y/N/N.”

Next Chapter >>

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#the one that got away #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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