My Name is Samantha,/49 and I am a HUGE fan of Supernatural. I Love both Jared and Jensen/ Sam and Dean, mainly because I can relate to there characters. I'm trying to write, learn the ins and outs. Have a question send me and ask, I'm an open book. I love meeting new people. Tag Yourself Here My New MasterList Craving You A Message from Jared Her Surprise
A collection of one-shots in the same story-verse . . .
Pairing: Mark Meachum x Reader
Series Summary: Two weeks before the wedding, Mark broke your heart with the best of intentions. Nine months later, you have to decide if what you two have is worth fighting for, in the time he has left.
Series Tags & Warnings: 18+ only for major angst (medical and emotional), smut, hurt/comfort, references to cheating, strong language, and other chapter-specific tags.
AN: This was only supposed to be a few one-shots, but this series is rapidly becoming my outlet for how much Mark Meachum's angst is breaking my heart throughout this show, so I finally caved on creating a masterlist. đ¤Łđ
Reading Order: Start with Downgrade. Trust me. đ
Listen while you read:
YouTube | Playlist Poster | Spotify
â¤ď¸âđĽ = Smut
Pedal Down
Markâs idea of a first date isnât exactly what you expected.
Downgrade
There it was. The beginning of the end, and neither of you saw it coming.
Stay tuned for more prequel shots! âËâĄ
. . .
Catastrophic Blues
Nine months isnât as long as it sounds. When you run into your ex-fiancĂŠ at a bar, he finds out what you've become. You find out the truth.
Sister, Sister â¤ď¸âđĽ
You and Mark have an emotional reconnection after he finally comes clean. But that also means you have some unfinished business to take care of with your sister, Rachel.
If You Leave Me Now â¤ď¸âđĽ
After struggling not to "label it," you and Mark come to an understanding about salvaging your relationship.
âŹď¸đď¸ Listen to the podfic version!
The Final Blow â¤ď¸âđĽ
DA Valwell deals his first strike to try and disrupt Special Agent Blytheâs task force. When you find out that Mark is on the team, you canât understand why he wonât prioritize his health, and the time he has left. The pressure of his decisionsâand yoursâcontinue to mount on your relationship. Will it deal the final blow?
A Once and Future Thing
You and Mark take a quick beatânot only to get that second opinion, but to do something reckless. Youâre getting married.
Hurt for Me
Youâre finally able to call Mark your husband, but that doesnât mean your troubles are over, especially while his condition worsens. As his team tries to close in on Volchek, who will be caught in the crossfire?
When the World Comes In
Volchek is finally caught, but the last piece of leverage he has is you.
In Every Heart, There is a Room
After getting the results of his biopsy, Mark receives life-changing news (more than once). Like everything else thatâs come before, you two begin to work through it together.
Aftercare
A snapshot of how you help Mark get through his medical treatment, post-surgery.
Tiger Mommy
-> Coming in January | Read now on Patreon!
Failing Up
-> Coming in January | Read now on Patreon!
Baby Weight
Grocery shopping with a 6-month-old is not for the weak. But this time, you thought you could let Mark stay home alone with the baby.
The Living Days
Itâs your babyâs first Halloween, and you think youâve picked the perfect costume for her. Mark isnât all that convinced.
Calm, Clear & Bright
Three Christmases â the ones Mark comes back to in his mind, like old photographs.
Stay tuned for more bonus shots! âËâĄ
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A Crime of Passion by @zepskies - When Beau Arlen decides to âmake it up to you,â heâs damn thorough.
A Good Man Is Hard to Find by @zepskies - When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?
After Hours by @smol-and-grumpy - Theyâre just outside of Helena, Montana, when they get pulled over. Dean knew that nothing good can come out of letting Y/N behind the wheels of his Baby. Little does he know that itâs probably the best thing that could happen to them in months. That good thing comes in the form of a tall, green-eyed Sheriff.
All My Ghosts by @carpenterswife - Youâre a deputy working for the Lewis and Clark County Sheriffâs Department in Helena; a good one at that. Since Beauâs arrival, you befriended the Texan, who eventually became the townâs new permanent sheriff. With a growing friendship, blooming feelings, a ton of inside jokes, and way too much fun on the job, it seems like everything is going right for you. But, youâre running from your past, and it seems to be catching up fast.
Beau Arlen x Female Reader by @anklesoverackles
Broken Road by @waywardnerd67 - She moved to Helena to escape her past to end up running into the one who got away.
Chasinâ You by @angelbabyyy99 - Y/N and Beau go way back to when they were kids, but as they grew up, the more distant they became. A few years later, she is now a high school, teacher, recently divorced from her ex-husband and now moved back to Helena, Montana, only to find out that her old crush/friend is the new sheriff in town. What will happen when the two bump into each other again after all these years?
Come Find Me by @lightdancingwords - You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriffâs department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts? (x Female!Reader)
Dangerous by @luci-in-trenchcoats - The reader does something âdangerousâ. Beau thinks she ought to be punished for itâŚ
Didnât Mean To Stay by @zepskies - After three months, you ask Beau to make it clear. Is he serious about this relationship, or are you two just passing time?
Echoes by @zepskies - Beau has another rough night, but you help him face a harder truth.
Family by @lila-lou - This Christmas is your first with Emily, Beauâs teenage daughter. Between her shy smiles and sharp wit, sheâs learning to trust you, and youâre creating a home together.
Forgotten Anniversaries by @mind-empty-just-fictional-people - beau forgets your two-year anniversary but you donât realize the next day is another one
Fridays are for beer and heartbreak by @pamwritessometimes - Your favorite patronâs there to mend your broken heart.
Get It Off My Desk by @beauarlenswife - Reader is a new detective thst had been moved to the department in montana, when they get back from rescuing the girl and their in his office, letâs just say, her thoughts are not about the case.
Handcuffs and Piercings by @deangirlsstuff67 - You have gotten close to Jenny and Cassie since moving to Montana. You knew eventually youâd meet Beau, you just werenât prepared for the girls to out your newest piece of jewelry in front of Beau.
Headcanon: Valentine's Day by @waynes-multiverse - Prompt: How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentineâs Day?
Hearts On Fire by @deanbrainrotwritings - would this be considered illegal? it didnât matter because he was the sheriff and sheâs the love of his life.
helping beau relax after a stressful day at work by @figthoughts (x GF!Reader)
Imagine: Beau gives you the support you need by @zepskies - After getting home from a terrible day at work, heâs able to lighten your mood.
Invisible Wall by @nescaveckwriter - Line: Broken Vows
Jurisdiction by @waynes-multiverse - Request: how about Beau loving the risk of getting caught fucking in his office? Maybe turning it into a Blowjob under his desk befor they actually get caught by Popcorn or Jenny?
Just One More by @nescaveckwriter - Line: Please be quiet, I havenât had enough coffee yet, to deal with this
Last Minute Customer by @marvelwitchergilmore - Beau Arlen x Reader -> When youâre closing up the store for the evening, you have one final customer.
Lookinâ At the Stars by @kaleldobrev - Beau takes you and your daughter out on a special family date to look at the night sky
Luck of the Irish by @deangirlsstuff67
Mine by @supernaturalneurodivergentwolf
Montana by @klutzygirl - Born and bred Texan Beau Arlen never expected to end up in Montana. [AO3]
Mr. Yeehaw by @deanoheartspie
Polaris by @waynes-multiverse - When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasnât proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBIâs help, Sheriff Arlenâs ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, itâs hard to make the right choices and find his way back home â back to you.
S.I.N.G. by @zepskies - Beau wishes youâd take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.
Sheriffâs Bargain by @cheynovak - Y/N, a seasoned con artist, is arrested after returning to Montana, where her past comes back to haunt her in the form of Sheriff Beau Arlenâthe man she abandoned five years ago. Facing charges linked to a drug lord, sheâs offered a deal to work as an informant. Torn between her criminal life and lingering feelings for Beau, Y/N must decide whether to help him bring down the crime ring or continue running from her past.
Something serious by @jessjad - Beau and Y/N spend a summer evening together. But do they both expect the same thing?
Stormy Nights by @cheynovak - Beau and Y/N have been dating some time now, a thunderstorm is moving over Montana, something Y/N isnât quite fond of. Beau gets home to comfort her.
Sweet As Pie by @that-sarcastic-writer - Beau has a crush on you, so with a bit of help from Jenny, he asks you out.
Take Me Home by @zepskies - You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. Youâre aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you both have a past youâre running from.
Taken for Granted by @pink-sparkly-witch - Having had his share of dangerous situations and close calls in Houston, this was meant to be the start of a quieter, slower life for Beau, Y/N and their daughter. Taking the job as Acting Sheriff in Helena, Montana, was a dream come true until Beau starts to spend far too much time with Jenny Hoyt, in and out of the office. At first, Y/N doesnât mind too much, but one night Beau misses his daughterâs hockey tryouts and phone calls in favour of shooting tequila in a bar with his co-worker, and Y/N isnât sure if sheâs being taken for granted or if something bigger is going on that she needs to worry about.
Tap The Badge by @xenaxena - youâre very turned on by the way the sheriff gestures to his badge
That Simple by @avanatural - Beau goes to Y/N, a new friend of his, for some dating advice. Is the charming new sheriff gonna get the date that heâs hoping for?
The Triplets by @welldonebeca - Lizzie moves in with her favourite honorary Uncle, Beau, to find work in a big city, and starts sharing a house with him and his other two twins brothers. The triplets - Dean, Ben and Beau - couldnât be more different and more similar at the same time. One thing they all share? Well, they all want to fuck her, of course.
The Way We Fell In Love by @smellingofpoetry - This is the story of how they fall in love.
Trouble by @smol-and-grumpy - Beau always knows how to grind her gears, and Y/N hates that she secretly loves it. When, once again, he manages to make her angry and sick with worry, he knows heâs in trouble â but sometimes she thinks itâs his intention all along because he knows the best ways to tame her
Trust Me by @luci-in-trenchcoats - When the reader wakes up in what was meant to be her grave, she doesnât want to trust anyone, especially the charming cop that found herâŚ
Under the Montana Skies by @spnbaby-67
Untitled Beau drabble by @beauswhore (x GN!Reader)
Whole Lotta Love by @deanbrainrotwritings - beau finds a way repays the reader after taking care of him when heâs injured, but also to apologise for worrying her. but most importantly, to prove he was okay.
Wonderwall by @deanbrainrotwritings - teasing beau during work and leaving without finishing. when he gets home he wants to pick up where they left off.
You Belong With Me by @justwhisperingfantasies - Youâre in love with your best friend, but he is with someone else. You try to move on when the new cute guy in town asks you on a date.
Youâve Been a Bad Girl by @deangirlsstuff67 - few weeks after your first run in with the new sheriff, you can seem to get him off your mind. You decided to find a way to get him back to your house, which makes you a very bad girl.
When former FBI agent Mark Meachum is presumed dead, the world moves on but the war he left behind never ended. With a brain tumor slowly killing him and a black-ops government hit squad framing him for attacks he didnât commit, Mark resurfaces to hunt the truth before time runs out.
Enter Y/N Siddiqui an undercover DEA agent and elite hacker with a hidden past, a sharp tongue, and her own ghosts. Assigned to investigate a cartel leak, she stumbles across intel that shouldn't exist: Mark Meachum is alive... and someoneâs using his name to burn everything down.
Now fugitives, Mark and Y/N are forced into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse pursued by federal agencies, cartel operatives, and the shadows of their own pasts. But with every bullet dodged and every lie unraveled, something unexpected begins to form between them: trust. Maybe even more.
Secrets become weapons. Memories betray them. And the closer they get to the truth, the more dangerous the price becomes.
Because in a world where identities are forged and erasedâŚ
Sometimes the only way to survive is to become your last known alias.
Author notes: Coming Soon. July 2025 will post on a weekly basis, I am so excited for this Series (meaning the actual Countdown its action packed) and I am so happy for Jensen, Let me know if you want to be tagged.
Coming soon, sort of she's all that combined with actual past trauma I suffered, growing up. I feel this is a way to let go of the past through writing, so far it's helped. This is based on them being in highschool, dealing with every day challenges, maybe a sequel as well not sure.
"More Than Enough."
I'll add more details if I get enough response to this but if not I'll write it anyways.
Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI
Chapter Word Count: 4.1k words
Chapter Warnings: angst, language, hurt/comfort, descriptions of heat cycle, SMUT, references to past abuse, references to past sexual assault, references of pregnancy loss, emotional abuse implied, Dean experiences brief flashbacks of that night with Ritchie
A/N: Please consider the warnings before reading. My handling of the topics hasn't changed, but a couple of the sentences are rather graphic.
Previous Chapter || Next Chapter
âRitchie, stop! Please!â
That phrase. That shrill in your voice. The desperation as your cheek scratched over a damn blanket that wasnât even there made Deanâs stomach churn.Â
The three-seater sofa heâd once admired wasnât as soft as heâd first thought. Itâd left bruises around your hips where your skin hit its edge.
He had a front row view of everything Dick had ever done to you, and those events continued to play over in Deanâs mind every second, minute, hour, and subsequent knot.
âSo tight,â his inner alpha said, on the third one, raising your thigh up to give himself better leverage to get deeper.Â
His cum. Your slick. There wasnât much left in you, but a younger version of himself would believe there were gallons of the stuff.Â
Most of it had dribbled down your leg and pooled beneath you on the now saturated sheets, blending into what was originally a sheen of sweat from your fever and the flames from a once glorious fire that had since become a pile of embers.Â
The stretch as he pulled himself out of you made the pressure at the root of his cock burn hotter than it had earlier when heâd secured the cabin. But it wasnât the only burning sensation he was experiencing.Â
A blunt force from a phantom object stretched the skin just below the edge of his sack. It didnât take an idiot to know it mirrored a similar movement his own knot made, catching on your inner lips on its re-entry into your warm core.Â
His alpha rolled you over, forcing your chest, stomach and pelvis into the mattress as he spread Deanâs weight on top of you. His knees and toes dug into the cushioning below, trying to get back in as deep as your cervix would allow.Â
âThatâs it âmega,â he cooed. âGonna fill you up. Weâll make sure it sticks this time.â
Dean was mortified his alpha would be so cruel, but a fresh wave of slick gushed through the sliver of air separating your bodies, and âSâmy girl,â came from his mouth next. His alpha, too engrossed to notice the split second of heartache that had come with it all.
But Dean did, and youâd never reacted like that before during sex. Youâd never been in heat with him until now, either, and his gut churned again even though his limbs buzzed with wanton.Â
Every nerve in him tingled with warmth. From the tips of his fingers that were grasping at the bedding, to his ass cheeks, exposed and taut from the motion of his groin dragging his cockhead through your centre.
That sweet build up tugged at him, wanting him to let go, and he wanted it, too.
He needed it.
His alpha wasnât an asshole, not as much as Dick was, at least. Dean knew it cared for you, just as he did. But the sooner he came, the sooner heâd be in control again, and the sooner heâd be able to apologise for what his damn alpha had said to you.
His dick, while itâd deflated, had slipped out of you during his sleep, and he now sported a semi. It was also dripping cum all over the place, and things wereâŚsticky. More so than heâd remembered.
It had taken another knot for his alpha to be sated enough to go back to being dormant again. From what Dean could tell, it was still dead to the world and sleeping off its post sex high, as were you. Though youâd been the first to pass out, having done so before heâd even had the chance to check in with you.
He removed his arm-turned-pillow from under your head, and peered over your shoulder. While he wasnât surprised to find you still asleep, after what heâd seen, he was surprised you ever did.Â
Of course, that could be said about him, too, he supposed. He always managed on that four hour bare minimum, nightmares included, and it kept him going somehow.
He leaned in closer and placed a couple of gentle licks over the open wound of his claim while his hand searched for the curve of your lower belly.Â
He still didnât understand it, but he now knew youâd been pregnant once. As with everything else, heâd seen it in your memories.
Nothing ever stuck, however. Thatâs what you told him back at the bunker, and it wasnât a lie. Youâd just left out the part about Dick berating you for it.
He really lived up to his namesake. Though another word for him came to mind, the more Dean thought about the cruelty heâd witnessed. He was abusive. Only it was subtle, like stuff you saw in a crappy direct-to-TV movie.Â
There was hostility. Bouts of silent treatment. It was no wonder youâd said you hadnât been âearning your keepâ around the bunker. Living with Sam and Dean was a vacation compared to your life with Dick. Youâd done everything for him, yet he blamed you for your loss.
That son of a bitch. HeâŚnope.
Dean couldnât do this. Not now with you sleeping next to him.Â
He needed a drink. Whiskey. Anything strong. That wine of Jodyâs with the fancy label and 10.6% alcohol content warning front and centre would do the trick.
After he hit the head.
He rolled backwards to sit up, trying his best to go about things quietly. He didnât want to wake you for several reasons, but his weight had the mattress moving with him and he had to stop and hold his breath.
âWhere are you going?â you mumbled, reaching behind your back in search of some alpha skin. It landed very close to his junk.
Fuck. Even when you were sleeping, your brain was switched on to your surroundings. If he wasnât careful, youâd realise something was up besides his engorged knot. âHey, sweetheart. How ya feeling?â he said, unknowingly making his panic known when he answered in a wavering tone.
He shouldnât have asked that. Not after last time.
âTired,â you said. âFevers coming back.â At least thatâs what he thought heâd heard. The warmth radiated off of you for sure, but your other hand was busy rubbing the sleep away from the corners of your eyes and your words were hidden behind them.
âYou need anything?â he asked.Â
âI gotta pee?â
âRight.â That made sense. The last thing you needed was an infection on top of the heat. It was the last thing he needed to deal with, too. âLetâs get you up then,â he said, and shoved the covers off. âCan you stand?â
He didnât wait for an answer. Your sluggish movements were enough to make him cautious.Â
He pulled you and him up to your feet, finding your waist once he noted your legs were steady, and continued the tirade of overbearing questions.
âHowâs the back?â was next. You could be as grumpy as an ugly cat if thatâs what you wanted to be. It wouldnât sway him away from taking care of you the way you deserved.Â
âSore.â You deadpanned. âMy ovaries wanna self combust.â
AndâŚit was starting, he was not ready, and worse, your brow quirked at his nervous chuckle. âWhatâs going on with you?â
âNothing. Câmon. Youâre not the only one thatâs gotta take a leak.â So he lied about there being something wrong, the latter was the truth, and before you could question him, he hurried you towards the wooden floorboards as best he could move you with your current mobility. Â
He just didnât count on you raising your hands and stopping.
âDean.âÂ
Shit. Sammy was the last person to say his name like that, but his brotherâs usage had come with a matching bitch face. When he looked at you, there was nothing of the sort.Â
Your eyes were shiny, though. Opened wide with a look of pity, andâŚcrap. He didnât wanna draw out the waterworks. Heâd handle everything else but them, he just couldnât stand to see you cry.
âWhat did you see?â you asked, bringing a hand up to rest on his chest. His heart, picking up speed the second you did.Â
You were always intuitive, and heâd dealt with psychics for fuckâs sake. But this? With you looking as unhinged as he felt? It had chills running down his spine.Â
What did he see?Â
What did you see?
You clearly didnât plan on moving until he gave you some kind of answer. Even if the sheets werenât sticky with bodily fluids, your feet were well and truly stuck there. âI, ah, I saw that night with Dick after we met and,â his gaze dropped to your lower stomach, âWhyâd you never tell me you lost a pup?â
You just stared at him. That look of pity youâd been giving him turned into sorrow with a hint of bitter. Heâd say you were blushing, but it was hard with the flush already staining your skin.
âBecause I didnât,â you whispered. âIâŚIâŚreally need to use the bathroom.â
And you did.Â
You were also determined to get out of that conversation because, nope, nope, nope; you werenât having it. Not now when Dean himself had actual demons more worthy of talking about, and your pup was⌠Nope.
You took a step forward, and placed your foot on the floor, only to jar the bones in your lower leg as you did. You wouldâve crumpled to the ground if it werenât for his arm still around you. It gripped you tighter, right as the other swooped down to pick up your knees.
âNo!â you said, surprising even yourself with how loud your cry was. âI can manage.â
You didnât want to burden him. He didnât need it, and thankfully, he said nothing more, taking your hand instead.
Together, you walked the long path through the furniture. Slow, steady, in silence. All the while you, refusing to look at him, even though he tried reading you the entire way to the bathroom.
It wasnât that you didnât want to talk to him.
Okay, it kinda was.
But you were concentrating on not falling. Counting your steps and watching each new floorboard and their nails sticking out with interest, hoping to catch your feet on something as you passed over them so you could continue to focus on your misery over anything else.Â
You were also trying to keep upright. Your traitorous uterus, along with your damn ovaries, had been putting you in your place the moment youâd woken up. If you werenât doing all that other stuff, youâd have been bent over in half like Quasimodo, hunched back and all.
Here you were, trying not to burden your alpha with your body, when your body was the one craving your alpha, and it was a wonder you were thinking straight.
Each further step had your whole, useless body protesting, demanding you to sink yourself onto his knot. It throbbed, and you throbbed from watching it, all while everything else kept piling on top of what was already in your mind.
Thoughts of Deanâs past, thoughts of yours, and thoughts of keeping things clean of all things. You did not want to leave a trail of seed and slick over any surface, so you kept your thighs closed together, which only made the burning need for your alphaâs knot worse.
By the time you finished down the hall and crossed over the icy tiles of the bathroom floor to the toilet, you were in pure agony, and about ready to burst.
But you still pried yourself out of Deanâs arms and grasped the edge of the vanityâs sink with your fingers, stepping to the side as best you could for him. Hopefully, heâd be done before your body decided to combust over the floor.
âWhatâre you doing?â he asked. âI thought you had to go?âÂ
You did, but so did he. âIâmâŚwaiting for you?â
Waiting and getting confused until he scoffed at you. âI can stand, you canât.â And on saying that, his hands gripped your sides before you could protest, and guided you down onto the seat.Â
âThanks.â You forced out a meek smile for him as gravity did its thing. While it drew the ache away from all your other bits, your vag now felt like a ten tonne truck had stuck itself in there along with all the other stuff that oozed out of you.
âOf course,â Dean said, with a face that matched your prior bemusement. He was forever kind and too damn perfect, even after everything heâd seen and done.
He got down on his haunches and sat there before you, running your thighs over with those magic fingers of his while you gave him a VIP ticket to your hormonal shit show.Â
Your body was gross. He didnât need to see this, butâŚ
âYou okay?â he still asked, and your heart melted more for him.Â
You nodded. How was he so kind after everything heâd been through?
Heâd been tortured for fuckâs sake. Chased, killed. Youâd seen the monsters youâd read about in the bunkers library. Ghosts heâd reminisced over with you when you hadnât believed him had been âgankedâ before your eyes.
His childhood. His parents.
His first rut.
Youâd watched his life with Lisa and Ben play out in front of you. Yet he was concerned with a pup that hadnât even made it to your womb? A pup the doctors didnât even count as one, because medically, it was just a clump of cells.
âI, ah, wait here for me.â He grinned that stunning grin of his, patting both your legs before he stood up and walked over to the bathtub where he relieved himself.
You werenât gonna say anything, simply because he wasnât rushing you. Content to be left in your solitude and perpetual pain.Â
Only. Something definitely wasnât right. Even as he took a leak, he was still staring at you, twisting himself in knots midstream to do so. And it gave you more of a complex than the one heâd already given you.
What else had Dean misconstrued from whatever the hell heâd seen?
âDid he ever put you first?â he asked.
Rather than answer, you stared back at the spluttering stream. It really was difficult to take a leak with an erection. Ritchie had never gone in front of you, so you didnâtâŚStop that.Â
Youâd told yourself you wouldnât compare the two of them. Dean was Dean. If he was comfortable doing this around you, so be it.Â
He also never put himself first. âDo you?â you said. Eyes moving from his dick to his face.Â
He ran his tongue over his cheek. The shape of it was visible below the skin as the wheels turned round in his head. âIâd say TouchĂŠâŚbut I donât think I wanna know why Iâm saying it. Do you, ah, want me to run ya a bath?âÂ
You did not wish to swim in your own filth. As it was, the gunk still drained out of you, even as Dean watched.
âUmâŚno. A showerâs probably better.âÂ
He gave you a single nod, then spun himself and the taps around, waving his hand through the stream to get rid of the urine. Barrelling at you when he noticed you standing up. âWoah, woah, woah. Letâs take it easy, huh?â
Your head decided it was best just to groan in response. Your ovaries had taken their opportune moment to make themselves known again, as if you would leave them behind in the toilet.
You took a step towards the tub, anyway. You could do this, though his hand floating by your waist gave you an extra bit of confidence you didnât need.
But Deanâs cautiousness was a good thing. Your stubborn ass wasnât, because your next movement had your knee buckling this time. You were lucky he kept you up.Â
âYeah, ixnay on the shower,â he said, ignoring every one of your protests, even as he raised you up over his shoulder and carried you the short distance to the tub himself. Preparing the water, with you helpless. Unable to do anything but wallow in your self pity and the thought that he didnât deserve a mate so weak as you.
Dean leaned back against the curve of the tub, pulling you with him. Glad to have put his foot down. He was not prepared to give you first-aid when you hit your head against any of the hard surfaces in the room.
Heâd compromised with you, though, and he felt the genius for it.Â
The warmth of the water up to his elbows soothed the aches of overused muscles and phantom pains he was trying to forget. The warmth of your breasts against his chest and your walls surrounding his still dripping cock soothed him, too.
He got bonus points for the minimal risk of cum soup and you were no longer in pain. Thereâd be less spillage of everything as long as he kept the thrusting not so frantic when the thrusting started happening.
But while he may have been a genius, he was also too chicken shit to bring up the proverbial elephants. As you werenât bringing them up either, he let it slide, choosing to simply enjoy your company.
You clearly didnât want to talk about your pregnancy. He wasnât sure he wanted to know what youâd meant by what had he seen?
He also wanted to forget all about Dick. He was glad he knew all the details, and as much as they sickened him, it was something he needed to address with you. Heâd hate to think anyone ever treated you that way again, but that was better left until after his rut and your heat was over.
âYou know, thereâs another world out there that doesnât have alphas and omegas?â he said. This would make you feel better for sure. As long as he didnât mention the part about bleeding all over the place. If he had the bits, heâd choose sweet slick over blood any day.Â
âThe females there have their heats once a month. Every threeâs gotta be better, right?â He chuckled.
Cuthbert Sinclair, you perverted son of a bitch. He had the genius in him, too.
âIs that the oneâŚwhere Sam has a man-bun?â you whispered. Your tone and your body were as stiff as a board, and didnât even make it sound a fraction as funny as Dean usually found it. âOr where youâŚate a lizard?âÂ
His hand had been running down your spine.Â
It stopped.
Heâd put his foot in it and was saying hey to Dumbo.
You knew about the other worlds? That wasnât too bad. But heâd seen glimpses into most stages of your life and not only the times with Dick.
Childhood. School. The awkward teenage years. Heâd also seen you in your prom dress, awkward, and with crap all over your face.
It didnât take the genius heâd proclaimed himself to be to realise things had probably evened out. It took two to tango, right? You were soulmates, and heâd heard wackier crap on the job than this.
Why the fuck hadnât he realised this sooner?Â
âHo-kay.â He grabbed your shoulders and made you pull back to face him. âItâs safe to say Iâve seen stuff that, ah, I wish I hadnât andâŚif youâve seen just as much as I have, then Iâm kinda concerned here. What did you see?â
âYourâŚmemories, I think.â
His whole body twitched. âWhat, ah, give me something here. Which ones?â
âWell, IâŚsaw what happened to your mom andâŚyour dad. The yellow eyesâŚumâŚAlistair? No wait, he was the one with the dogsâŚthe chains andââ
âHold on.â Dean was freaking the fuck out. Heâd mentioned his parents before. It was a logical starting point to talk about his mom. But Hell, too? He doubted heâd ever told you about the hellhounds or Alistair. He hadnât even told Sammy or Bobby about him until they were dealing with the guy topside. And as for Crowleyâs pets, you were mentioning their metal bonds, too.
Heâd never said a word about that. To anyone.
Had youâŚseen them use him like a chew toy? Had you watched him die, or worse?
That three-seater sofa hit his hip. The phantom pains of a knot being shoved somewhere between where he presumed his bladder and intestines to be. Heâd taken the punches Dick threw your way. âDid you feel stuff, too?â he asked.
âIt wasâŚmore like your memories butââÂ
He didnât let you finish your sentence before the arm heâd kept wrapped around you pulled you flush against him, squeezing so tight, the muscles in his chest caved in on themselves. âIâm. IââÂ
But he couldnât finish his, either.
The hellhounds had ripped him to shreds. And thereâd been plenty of other times since heâd died and they werenât exactly a walk in the park. Some had been gruesome, others painful. Some were downright bloody.Â
There were also the people heâd murdered. Not all of them monsters, and youâd seen all of this in a matter of days. How were you not freaking out right now, too?Â
He knew of heat fog, but you were speaking coherently and he could understand you just fine. YouâŚ
You.
You werenât supposed to be a part of that chapter in his life. Heâd planned to keep you at a distance from all of it. HeâŚ
He.
He looked up so that he wouldnât see your face through the kaleidoscope of colours that his wet eyes brought with them. âIââ All he could do was squeeze you tighter.
âDean. Itâs okay.â
He still didnât have the words to continue his apology. Nothing could ever make up for what youâd seen, and his voice caught in the lump that had manifested in his throat. By the time it did reach the surface, it sounded more like that of a small child, then that of a grown man.
âNo, itâs not.â
âIt is.â
âSânot. This is what I was trying to keep ya from.âÂ
He was dangerous. He was a grunt. He was mud on the sole of his boot, and you? Heâd brought you into this shitty life of his. âItâs bad enough you had to go through what Dick did to you. But he did it âcause of me. Iâm poison, and if you hadnât met me, youââ
âIâd be vampire chow.â
Dean shook his head. âYou were holding up fine until me and Sammy got there.â Though why he was bothering with the compliment when it was detrimental to the point, he didnât know.
âAnd then you helped me with Ritchie.â
âI still almost left you with him,â he countered. âHe, he, raped you. He,â Where was he going with this? The second he said the word, everything else stopped. Heâd rather talk about hell with you than deal with the repercussions of that rat bastard. âI saw him blame you for losing your pup.â
Fuck. Heâd put his foot in it now. âSweetheart, Iâmââ
âYou canât lose something that was never there,â you said.
Never there?
The silence was deafening. You could cut the tension with a knife. So many damn cliches he could think of, yet he didnât know what to say to you.
Youâd just told him the complete opposite of what he knew. He couldâve sworn dick had berated you for losing your pup. Dick had made you repeat what your doctor had said to you over and over because he didnât trust the words youâd been saying.
Dean saw that. His mind wouldnât just make that shit up.Â
Unless the blanket wasnât real either? The pain heâd been feeling between his knot and his asshole?
No. Heâd seen your injuries. Maybe not beneath your clothes, but heâd cleaned the wounds on your face himself, and you werenât countering with those.
Youâd also straight up told him youâd seen the hellhounds and the chains that bound him. You mentioned Alastairâs name.
Youâd seen his past, so heâd definitely seen yours, too.
âDid youââ Your head had lowered and he could sense the tears without even looking. âHey,â he said, bringing his hand under your chin to cup it. âYou wanna tell me âbout it?âÂ
He no longer cared about his past. Well, no, that wasnât exactly true. There was just nothing he could do about it now. What was seen couldnât be unseen.Â
He couldnât do anything about your current pain either besides what heâd already been doing on account of his rut.
But even he wasnât capable of sweeping this shit under the carpet with a solution such as that. A part of him was still torn on whether he wanted said solution or not.Â
He was worse than a grunt. He was worse than dangerous. He wasnât even mud on the sole of his shoe. He was a fucking coward andâŚ
âYou donât wannaââ you said, all too knowingly.
âNo. I do.â He kissed your forehead. âI really do.â
Previous Chapter || Next Chapter
Well. I've posted this elsewhere, but as I was preparing this to post here, I got the jitters all over again. Our reader is on a path to recovery as is Dean, and they will both be there for each other, but it wil take some time.
As one of my lovely readers said over on AO3, let there be pups! Well, weâre getting closer to that happening. I hope you continue to enjoy whatâs to come â¤ď¸
Chapter 9: Ruminating 18/04
âYou know, itâs the first time Iâve really cooked for ya.âÂ
âBecause I always step in?â
His brows raised high. That wasnât the right choice.
Still, âYeah,â he said, snatching his burger up again and sinking his teeth into a large bite before his foot decided to come back and hang out.Â
âYouâre good at it.â You followed with another couple of your own. Your face read full of thoughts as you somehow chewed the tiniest of bites into smaller particles that put Casâ idea of tasting individual molecules into play.
âThough Iâm not so sure about marshmallow fluff and mac and cheese together.â
He was well aware you were doing what he had, and the comment made him snort. And dribble. âYou saw that, huh?â he said as he wiped the juices off of his chin.
âMustâve been lonely.âÂ
Yeah, he was right on the money. You were deviating, and who was he to stop you from it? âIs this turning into a me thing now?â
You write with such specific and realistic details, that yes, sometimes are uncomfortable, but it lends to the gritty realism of what Dean saw and felt, and ultimately what the reader experienced. I just want to wrap both of them in a big soft quilt and at this point. đđ
I hope they do get to reach that point of hurt/comfort with one another and work through this part of the claim/bonding together as they learn more about each other. đđđ
When the rainstorm fades, Y/N explores the quiet corners of Justinâs secluded cabin, still wrapped in the warmth of their intimate night together. Tucked away in an old sideboard, she discovers a weathered wooden boxâfilled with fragments of Justinâs past: old Polaroids, letters, and a handwritten list of dreams he once believed were out of reach.
As she reads his faded wordsâhopes for a future with someone who dances in the rain, a place to hide from the world, a love that feels like musicâY/N realizes sheâs become everything he once longed for.
When Justin walks in and finds her holding the note, an unspoken truth passes between them: sometimes, the person youâve been searching for quietly dances into your life when you least expect it.
Soft, romantic, and deeply emotional, The Memory Box is a tender continuation of their storyâwhere the past meets the present, and a forgotten dream becomes a living, breathing love story.
I am revising my very first fanfiction I ever done like 11 years ago it seems, i was 46 at the time and now i am 57, i felt it needed to be updated. lol. but then again why not as we all get older and more active with writing we change things, the originals will still be here so you can see the differences. I just figured it was time for a new update. I may have messed up a few chapters I am not sure but this is in complete order, I'm also thinking of just making them into a new set of there own as well.
Chapter One: Burnt Coffee and Betrayals
Chapter Two: Coffee Stains & Green-Eyed Strangers
Chapter Three: One More Flight, One More Chance
Chapter Four: Altitude and Aftershocks
Chapter Five: The Descent and the Promise
Chapter Six: Homecoming Surprises
Chapter Seven: Serendipity, or Something Like It
Chapter Eight: Coffee, Chemistry, and Craving You Part One
Chapter Eight â Part Two: More Than a Coffee Date
Chapter Nine: Swings and Fists
Chapter Ten: Fire and Water
Chapter 11 "Ripples and Realizations"
Chapter 11: Storms and Secrets Part One
Chapter 11: Storms and Secrets Part Two
Chapter Twelve (Morning Mischief & Sweet Anticipation) Part One
Epilogue
âLetters from the Edgeâ
â Six Months Later â
The rain fell softly on the streets of Edinburgh, a gentle mist that clung to the stone and wrapped the city in a timeless hush. Y/N stood at the edge of Princes Street Gardens, her long coat tied at the waist, a knitted scarf tucked beneath her collar. The weight of the past six months still clung to her, but hereâhalf a world away from Vancouverâit finally felt like she could breathe again.
A leather-bound notebook was clutched to her chest, worn and creased at the edges. Pages filled with tears, therapy breakthroughs, quiet revelations, and questions sheâd never dared to ask anyone but herself. Her hair danced in the wind, and her eyes, though tired, held a steadier kind of light. Healing had taken timeâgrief had taken more.
She hadnât spoken to Jo since the day she walked out. Nor to Jensen.
Not until last week.
A package had arrivedâunmarked, wrapped in brown paper and sealed with a single black ribbon. Inside was a small flash drive and a note, handwritten in Jensenâs familiar scrawl:
âNo begging. No apologies. Just my truth. If you ever want to understand why I liedâwhy I stayedâIâm here. If not, Iâll disappear. But you deserve to know everything.â
Love, always â J.
She hadnât plugged it in right away. It took her five days. But when she did, it opened to a single video file titled simply: "For You."
In it, Jensen sat in what looked like his Texas cabin. No dramatic lighting, no rehearsed linesâjust him. Raw. Honest. His voice cracked as he spoke, tears in his eyes more than once. He told her the full truthâabout the case, his orders, the timeline, how he never expected her, and how everything shifted the day she walked into that Starbucks with that camera bag slung across her shoulder and a latte in her hand.
"You saved me before I ever tried to save you," he had whispered at the end.
She watched it twice. Then again. And again.
Y/N wasnât sure when the tears startedâbut they didnât stop for hours. He hadnât asked for forgiveness. He hadnât made excuses. He just told the truth.
Now here she stood, six months and four thousand miles away from where it all began, holding the letter she had just finished writing. No address. No name. Just three words on the envelope:
âCome find me.â
Because maybe⌠just maybe, forgiveness wasnât about forgetting.
Maybe it was about seeing the truthâshattered, scarred, but still beatingâand choosing to believe in it anyway.
She turned toward the post box. Her fingers trembled as she slid the letter in. And for the first time in a long timeâŚ
She smiled.
Epilogue â Alternate Scene (Jensenâs POV):
Back in Austin, Jensen sat alone on the front porch of his ranch, guitar in hand, the sun bleeding down behind the hills. A fresh scar lined his ribcage, a reminder of that final takedown. But the wound that still bled⌠was her.
He checked the mailbox every morning.
And todayâfinallyâthere it was.
A white envelope with a single line in her handwriting:
âCome find me.â
His lips parted. And for the first time in monthsâhe let himself hope.
I sat in the back of the ambulance holding her cold hand, trying to speak through a voice full of fear and guilt. The EMT, Adam, told me to keep talking. He said she needed to hear me, needed to know she wasnât alone. But nothing I said stopped her vitals from crashing twice. Each time they pulled over to resuscitate her, it felt like my soul was leaving my body. I begged Godâout loud, desperate. Iâd never begged harder for anything in my life.
When we got to the hospital, they rushed her in. I couldnât follow. A nurse handed me scrubs to change into because her blood soaked everything I wore. I went through the motions, numb. As I joined the others in the waiting room, Jared met me with a soft pat on the shoulder, trying to hold me together. But I didnât want comfort. I wanted her awake. Safe. Smiling. Laughing.
When the surgeon came out, his coat splattered with blood, my heart stopped. The bullet had lodged in her shoulder, but sheâd lost a lot of blood. He told us the next 48 hours were critical. I volunteered to donate immediately. I didnât even feel the needle.
Readerâs POV
Waking up felt like rising through molasses. Everything was heavy, muffled. My throat was on fire, my head pounded, and I couldnât move my arm. When I opened my eyes, the world was blurry until I saw him. Green eyes. Deep with grief and love.
âHi... do I know you?â I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
I watched as his soul cracked in front of me. âYou do... Iâm your boyfriend. Jensen.â
The name meant nothing at first. But the way he looked at meâlike I was his whole universeâplanted a seed of familiarity. I couldnât recall the past, but something in me trusted him.
Then Jo walked in. Overflowing energy, arms full of coffee, tears instantly forming in her eyes. I didnât remember her either.
When they left to let the doctor run tests, I was left alone. The quiet was suffocating. I didnât know who I was angry atâthem for lying, or myself for not remembering the truth.
Four days later, I was discharged. Slowly, memories flooded back. Flashbacks. The cement floor. Blood. Screams. And betrayal. The day they came to my apartment, I was already boiling inside. The pain had crystallized into white-hot rage.
I made them sit.
I confronted them.
Every word I spoke was edged in pain. âYou lied. You played me. Both of you.â
Jo looked away, ashamed. Jensen stared at the floor like it might open up and swallow him whole.
âYou let me believe you loved meâwhen you were just playing a part. And Jo, you knew! You let him walk into my life with a lie and didnât stop it. You two destroyed the one good thing I thought I had.â
Jensen opened his mouth to speak, to plead, to explainâbut I stopped him.
âSave it. Whatever this was... itâs over.â
I told them to leave. I made them promise not to call. Not to text. To disappear. Jo tried to argue. Jensen didnât. He knew. The look in his eyes was pure heartbreak. But he left.
And I broke.
Curled on my bed, I sobbed harder than I ever had in my life. Because I loved him. God help me, I loved him so much. And maybe I still did. But for now, I needed space. Time. Healing.
The secrets I still carriedâthe ones no one knewâwould stay buried. I wasnât ready to share them. Not with people who had already broken me.
And yet... somewhere deep in my soul, I wondered: could love survive a lie this big?
The download from HQ hit Jeffâs phone like a lightning strike. Instantly, we had what we needed: names, faces, floor schematics, and a short voice note from Kali herselfâsent before she was taken. Her calm but clipped words described a hidden room behind a false cement wall two floors below the basement level. Exactly the type of place these bastards would use to stash hostages.
Jeff gathered us in a tight circle. âListen up, no hero moves. This is a precision entry. Weâre not losing anyone today. Jared, youâre with me. Gabe, youâre with Hendrickson. Anyone on this list gets cuffed, anyone not on it gets escorted out. We good?â
A chorus of affirmatives met him. We snapped our helmets on, clipped rifles to vests, checked comms. I said a silent prayer for Jensen, and for Y/Nâthough I didnât know yet that she was also down there. God help whoever laid hands on either of them.
We entered the building through the back loading dock. It was eerily quiet. Most employees had left, or been ordered to by one of the insiders. We fanned out in small groups, clearing offices, checking IDs. Those who werenât listed were led out to the transport vans by Rufus and Garth.
Down the stairwell we went, boots echoing in a metallic rhythm of tension. At the bottom, we split up. I took Gabe and moved east while Jeff and Hendrickson went west. Lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows that danced with each movement.
The gunshot was faint, but my instincts kicked in. I raised my fist, motioning for Gabe to halt. We inched forward, hugging the wall. Then we saw herâCassie. She was coming out of a disguised panel in the wall, her heels clicking lightly as she mumbled to herself.
I sprang forward, clamping a hand over her mouth, gun drawn. Her eyes widened in shock. "Move and Iâll drop you. How many are in there?"
She swallowed hard. "Everyone. Good luck getting your friend back."
Gabe cuffed her and dragged her off silently. I opened the hidden door and radioed Jeff. He met us a minute later. We breached as one.
"FBI! HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!"
Jensenâs POV
Blood was everywhere. My arms ached from being held behind my back for so long. My temple throbbed from the earlier hits. But when I saw Mark Pellegrino inch toward Y/N, when I saw him whisper poison into her ear, everything in me snapped.
I slammed my forehead into his nose, feeling the crack of cartilage give. His scream was satisfying. Two goons grabbed me, but adrenaline was surging. I kicked out, forcing one back.
Mark Sheppard lunged at me from behind, his arm snaking around my throat. I gasped as the chokehold cinched in, vision blurring. In desperation, I elbowed back hard, connecting with his ribs. He loosened his grip, and BobbyâGod bless himâtossed me a key.
I unclipped one cuff, spun, and drove my elbow into Sheppardâs temple. He dropped like a rock.
Kali was already in motion, trading blows with Cassie, who had drawn a small blade. Y/N, even injured, tripped Cassie mid-run. Kali took the opening to land a solid punch to Cassieâs jaw, knocking her out cold.
The door burst open.
"FBI! EVERYONE DOWN!"
Jaredâs voice rang like salvation.
Mark P held up his hands. Kali kicked his legs out and had him cuffed in seconds. I turnedâand saw her.
Y/N lay on her back, pale, unmoving, blood seeping from her torso. My heart cracked.
I dropped beside her, hands trembling as I brushed her hair back. Her lips were blue. Her pulse was weak.
âY/N? Baby, please... Iâm here. Hold on.â
Jeff kneeled beside me. âGunshot wound to the abdomen. No exit wound.â
âCall an ambulance!â I shouted.
Jared confirmed it. I could barely hear him. I couldnât take my eyes off her.
She whimpered. A faint sound. A spark of hope.
I bent down and kissed her forehead, whispering, âI love you. Donât you dare give up.â
She blinked. Barely.
That was all I needed.
Jeff and another medic agent started first aid. Pressure to the wound. IV line started. Within minutes, sirens wailed outside. EMTs rushed in.
As they wheeled her away, I followed, gripping her hand the entire time. Iâd told her I wasnât leaving. And I wasnât.
"There you are. I've been looking for you," Cassie said, her hand casually brushing my shoulder.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath. I was so close to getting out. I schooled my features, turning around with what I hoped was a charming smile. "Cassie," I said smoothly. "Sorry, Iâve got to head outâwork calls. It was great catching up, though."
She stepped closer, an unsettling smile curving her lips. "Youâre leaving so soon? But you havenât seen our production floor yet. Thatâs where Y/Nâs been working, you know. I thought youâd like a sneak peek."
Her tone was light, but something about it made the hairs on my neck stand up. I hesitated.
"Tempting," I said slowly, "but I really need toâ"
Cassie stepped closer, her perfume cloying. She stood just under my chin, her fingers trailing up my chest flirtatiously. "Are you sure? We could make a little production of our own."
I froze. Her hand slid toward my jaw, fingers brushing my lips.
Then came the cold steel press of a gun barrel into my side.
"Youâre not going anywhere, Lieutenant," she whispered.
My pulse surged. "Cassie," I growled, trying to keep calm. "You donât want to do this."
"But I do," she purred. "Now, walk. Unless you want me to redecorate this hallway with your insides."
I had no choice. She led me into an elevator, her grip firm and her smile chilling.
"Why?" I demanded. "Why do this?"
"For love," she said with a smirk. "My husbandâMark Pellegrinoâtakes care of me. I return the favor."
"You were supposed to be Y/Nâs friend."
"Please. I was never her friend. Sheâs a means to an endâand you, handsome, are the jackpot."
The elevator descended to the lower levels. No signal. No escape. When the doors opened, she guided me down a dim, concrete corridor to a wall that looked solid.
She pressed something. A concealed door swung open.
I stumbled forward and froze.
Y/N was there.
Tied to a chair. Bruised. Eyes wide with horror.
My blood ran cold.
"Jensen," Pellegrino sneered, stepping out from the shadows. "Welcome to hell."
Cassie kissed his cheek, smug.
"Mark," I hissed. "How the hell are you out of prison?"
He stepped closer, his voice gleeful. "Early release. Good behavior. And now, itâs my turn. You destroyed my life, Ackles. Now I destroy yours."
He crouched beside Y/N. "She didnât know you were FBI, did she?"
Y/Nâs face said it all.
"Stop! Donât listen to him! Y/Nâplease!" I fought the guards, but they shoved me back.
He leaned in, whispering poison in her ear. Her face crumpled. Tears welled in her eyes.
"Please, Y/N, heâs lying! I neverâ"
But she wasnât hearing me. Her heart had shattered. I could see it in her eyes.
Readerâs POV
They asked about Jensenâwho he was to me, what I knew. I refused to talk. Until they threatened to kill him in front of me. I still refused.
Then the door opened, and there he was. In handcuffs. Roughed up. And Cassie was behind him.
Everything clicked. Betrayal crashed into me like a wave.
Mark laid it all out. That Jensen was FBI. That I was a pawn.
My ears rang.
He begged me to look at him. Not to believe it. But how could I not? Everything made sense. The random meetings, his intense interest in me. All of it.
My chest tightened, breath shallow. I didnât want to believe it. But I couldnât breathe past the hurt.
Was it all a lie?
Jaredâs POV
âHave you heard from Jensen?â I asked Jeff, nerves running wild.
âNo. Thatâs not like him.â
I pulled up GPS. His car pinged outside Y/Nâs office. No answer on either of their phones.
âSir, I think his coverâs blown.â
Jeffâs jaw tightened. âPrep the team. Quiet extraction. Full tactical.â
Ten minutes later, we were loaded, strapped, and flying down the freeway.
My heart pounded. I kept whispering, âWeâre coming, Jensen. Hold on.â
We stopped at the loading dock. I led the agents through the rear entrance.
We swept the corridors, silent, methodical. Down into the basement.
The hallway was quiet.
Thenâ
Pop-pop-pop.
Gunfire.
Cassie stumbled out of a hidden door, weapon raised. She fired wildly.
I tackled her. Her gun skidded across the concrete.
âClear the room!â I shouted.
Agents stormed through. Inside, chaos.
Jensen broke free of his cuffs and lunged, tackling Pellegrino. The two rolled across the floor, fists flying.
A guard pulled a knife.
Y/N screamed.
I raised my weapon. One shotâclean. The man dropped.
Jensen pummeled Mark until blood poured from his nose.
âENOUGH!â Jeff shouted. Jensen backed off, chest heaving.
I ran to Y/N, untying her.
She collapsed into me.
Jensen rushed to her side. "Baby, pleaseâlook at me. It wasnât all a lie. I love you. I swear to God, I love you."
She stared at him. Conflicted. Crushed.
But alive.
Later
Pellegrino and Sheppard were in cuffs, screaming as they were dragged out.
Cassie sat silently, head lowered.
Jeff patted my shoulder. âYou did good, Jared.â
"There you are. I've been looking for you," Cassie said, her hand casually brushing my shoulder.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath. I was so close to getting out. I schooled my features, turning around with what I hoped was a charming smile. "Cassie," I said smoothly. "Sorry, Iâve got to head outâwork calls. It was great catching up, though."
She stepped closer, an unsettling smile curving her lips. "Youâre leaving so soon? But you havenât seen our production floor yet. Thatâs where Y/Nâs been working, you know. I thought youâd like a sneak peek."
Her tone was light, but something about it made the hairs on my neck stand up. I hesitated.
"Tempting," I said slowly, "but I really need toâ"
Cassie stepped closer, her perfume cloying. She stood just under my chin, her fingers trailing up my chest flirtatiously. "Are you sure? We could make a little production of our own."
I froze. Her hand slid toward my jaw, fingers brushing my lips.
Then came the cold steel press of a gun barrel into my side.
"Youâre not going anywhere, Lieutenant," she whispered.
My pulse surged. "Cassie," I growled, trying to keep calm. "You donât want to do this."
"But I do," she purred. "Now, walk. Unless you want me to redecorate this hallway with your insides."
I had no choice. She led me into an elevator, her grip firm and her smile chilling.
"Why?" I demanded. "Why do this?"
"For love," she said with a smirk. "My husbandâMark Pellegrinoâtakes care of me. I return the favor."
"You were supposed to be Y/Nâs friend."
"Please. I was never her friend. Sheâs a means to an endâand you, handsome, are the jackpot."
The elevator descended to the lower levels. No signal. No escape. When the doors opened, she guided me down a dim, concrete corridor to a wall that looked solid.
She pressed something. A concealed door swung open.
I stumbled forward and froze.
Y/N was there.
Tied to a chair. Bruised. Eyes wide with horror.
My blood ran cold.
"Jensen," Pellegrino sneered, stepping out from the shadows. "Welcome to hell."
Cassie kissed his cheek, smug.
"Mark," I hissed. "How the hell are you out of prison?"
He stepped closer, his voice gleeful. "Early release. Good behavior. And now, itâs my turn. You destroyed my life, Ackles. Now I destroy yours."
He crouched beside Y/N. "She didnât know you were FBI, did she?"
Y/Nâs face said it all.
"Stop! Donât listen to him! Y/Nâplease!" I fought the guards, but they shoved me back.
He leaned in, whispering poison in her ear. Her face crumpled. Tears welled in her eyes.
"Please, Y/N, heâs lying! I neverâ"
But she wasnât hearing me. Her heart had shattered. I could see it in her eyes.
Readerâs POV
They asked about Jensenâwho he was to me, what I knew. I refused to talk. Until they threatened to kill him in front of me. I still refused.
Then the door opened, and there he was. In handcuffs. Roughed up. And Cassie was behind him.
Everything clicked. Betrayal crashed into me like a wave.
Mark laid it all out. That Jensen was FBI. That I was a pawn.
My ears rang.
He begged me to look at him. Not to believe it. But how could I not? Everything made sense. The random meetings, his intense interest in me. All of it.
My chest tightened, breath shallow. I didnât want to believe it. But I couldnât breathe past the hurt.
Was it all a lie?
Jaredâs POV
âHave you heard from Jensen?â I asked Jeff, nerves running wild.
âNo. Thatâs not like him.â
I pulled up GPS. His car pinged outside Y/Nâs office. No answer on either of their phones.
âSir, I think his coverâs blown.â
Jeffâs jaw tightened. âPrep the team. Quiet extraction. Full tactical.â
Ten minutes later, we were loaded, strapped, and flying down the freeway.
My heart pounded. I kept whispering, âWeâre coming, Jensen. Hold on.â
We stopped at the loading dock. I led the agents through the rear entrance.
We swept the corridors, silent, methodical. Down into the basement.
The hallway was quiet.
Thenâ
Pop-pop-pop.
Gunfire.
Cassie stumbled out of a hidden door, weapon raised. She fired wildly.
I tackled her. Her gun skidded across the concrete.
âClear the room!â I shouted.
Agents stormed through. Inside, chaos.
Jensen broke free of his cuffs and lunged, tackling Pellegrino. The two rolled across the floor, fists flying.
A guard pulled a knife.
Y/N screamed.
I raised my weapon. One shotâclean. The man dropped.
Jensen pummeled Mark until blood poured from his nose.
âENOUGH!â Jeff shouted. Jensen backed off, chest heaving.
I ran to Y/N, untying her.
She collapsed into me.
Jensen rushed to her side. "Baby, pleaseâlook at me. It wasnât all a lie. I love you. I swear to God, I love you."
She stared at him. Conflicted. Crushed.
But alive.
Later
Pellegrino and Sheppard were in cuffs, screaming as they were dragged out.
Cassie sat silently, head lowered.
Jeff patted my shoulder. âYou did good, Jared.â
The morning sun had barely begun to warm the streets when Jensen and I arrived at the office just shy of 9 a.m. The towering building, once a symbol of pride and achievement for me, now loomed like a stranger with secrets. I turned to Jensen as we stepped inside.
"Stay in my office, okay? I'll let you know what happens after the meeting. If you have to leave, just let me know. I'll call you as soon as I find anything out."
He nodded without hesitation. "You've got this, babe. I'll be here."
Before heading toward the back offices, I made a pit stop to check in with Cassie. I knocked lightly and peeked my head in.
"Hey," I said softly.
She looked up from her screen and beamed, immediately getting up to pull me into a hug. "Y/N! You have no idea how good it is to see you. Iâve got so much tea to spill."
I chuckled but held up a hand. "Rain check on the gossip. Iâve got to deal with some drama of my own first. Can I ask you a favor?"
Cassie followed my glance to Jensen sitting casually in my office. "Whoa. Who is that tall glass of yes, please?"
"That would be my boyfriend. Can you keep him company while I deal with the storm brewing in Bobbyâs office? Maybe show him around, or take him down to the commissary? I just donât want him sitting alone in case Sheppard or Pellegrino get nosy."
Cassie smirked. "He's hot, Y/N. And you look like youâre glowing. Damn. Whatâs in Texas water?"
"Good decisions for once," I winked. "And no, he doesnât have a brother. I checked."
We both laughed. I squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Cass. I owe you."
I watched her walk toward Jensen, already diving into cheerful chatter. Then I took a deep breath and headed for the lionâs den.
Mr. Singerâs office sat at the end of the hallway, usually a place of calm reassurance. But the second I placed my hand on the doorknob, a chill ran down my spine. Something was wrong. I could feel it. My gut twisted in warning.
I opened the doorâand froze.
It wasnât Bobby Singer behind the desk. It was Mark Pellegrino.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, eyes narrowing.
Mark capped his pen slowly, then raised his head with a smug grin. "Well, if it isnât Ms. Y/N. Nice to see you too. Thatâs no way to greet your new boss."
I stepped in cautiously, gaze darting around. "Where is Mr. Singer?"
He stood and walked around the desk with mock ease. "Mr. Singer is no longer with us. He sold us his shares. Said something about Cozumel and a hammock."
"Thatâs a lie. He would never sell. He built this place from nothing."
Markâs grin only deepened. "Well, things change. Especially when people take unscheduled sabbaticals to Texas. You left. Kali stepped up. Now here we are."
He moved closer, arms folded, then leaned on the desk directly in front of me. "If you had worked a little harderâor worn a tighter skirtâmaybe youâd still have your account."
My spine stiffened. "Excuse me?"
His hand brushed down my arm. "Just saying. You have⌠assets. Why not use them to your advantage?"
"You touch me again and Iâll see you in court for harassment," I growled.
Before he could respond, the door creaked open and Mr. Sheppard stepped in, casually sipping from a coffee mug.
"Ms. Y/N. Just in time. Sit. We have lots to discuss."
"Not unless youâre giving me my account back."
Sheppardâs expression darkened. "You're not in a position to make demands. You left. We adapted. Sit."
I glanced between the two snakes in suits, my confidence cracking. Still, I sat.
"Hereâs the deal," Sheppard began. "Youâre on our time now. No more special treatment. No more pet projects from Bobby. You get what we give you, and you work it. Or you donât work here at all. Got it?"
My mouth felt dry, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, sir."
Pellegrino peered out the window and spotted Jensen talking to Cassie. He turned back to me, smirking. "Whoâs the guy in your office? Unauthorized guests are against policy."
"Heâs with me. We were going to grab lunch."
Sheppard waved a hand dismissively. "Fine. Take your lunch. Enjoy it. Might be your last one here. If youâre not ready to give us one hundred percent, you know where the door is."
I looked back toward the hallwayâtoward Jensen.
He had risked everything to be here with me. Driven thousands of miles. Sat with me through snow and silence. Nursed me through doubt. I couldnât give him up.
I stood.
"You know what? Keep the account. Keep your company. But mark my wordsâwithout Bobby Singer, this place is nothing. I quit."
I dropped my badge on the desk and turned to leave.
But the room spun. My knees buckled. The world went black.
The next morning, I woke up first with the most awful crick in my neck. I tried stretching, but the tightness made me wince. Not surprising, reallyâsleeping cramped up in the back seat of a truck wasn't exactly luxurious. I turned my head to look at Jensen, his features softened in sleep, peaceful and warm despite the freezing night we endured. Even battered, he was beautiful. I could stay like this foreverâwell, not exactly here in the back of a snowbound truck, but close enough.
Just as I tried to sit up, he tugged me back against him with a sleepy groan. "Hmm, where do you think you're going?"
I smiled and kissed his lips. "Just checking to see how bad the storm got."
He hummed again and I slid out from under the blankets. The moment I rose, the cold hit like a brick wall. The truck windows were completely frosted over with thick snow. No light had pierced through, and all I saw was whiteâa dense, heavy blanket hiding the outside world. I scrambled forward and retrieved my phone from between the seats. Miraculously, it still had a decent charge. The time blinked back at me: 7:25 a.m.
"Um, babe," I said quietly, biting my lip, "we're not going anywhere anytime soon."
Jensen sat up, rubbing his eyes, then looked around. "Yeah, I was afraid of this." He shifted to move. "I need to get to the front. Help me out?"
"Maybe get dressed first," I teased, raising a brow. "Weâre still half-naked, remember?"
He grinned. "You say that like itâs a bad thing."
We both dressed quickly, the cold a great motivator. I pulled on my leggings and hoodie while Jensen struggled slightly to get his shirt over his sling. I helped him finish dressing and then helped him crawl into the front. He fired up the engine and turned the heater on full blast. The windshield wipers fought against the frozen crust of snow, but it was no use.
"We need to melt this. I have deicer in the back," he said. "Stay here. Don't get out, okay?"
"Jensen, it's dangerous. You're hurtâ"
"Iâll be okay. Trust me."
My chest ached with worry. "Please be careful. I love you."
He smiled and kissed me, then disappeared into the white abyss. I held my breath the entire time, my heart skipping every time the truck groaned under his weight or he slammed the tailgate. After a few minutes of scraping and pouring, he climbed back inside, shivering hard.
"Holy hell, itâs cold!" he gasped.
I grabbed a towel warmed by the heater vent and pressed it to his neck. "You're insane, you know that?"
He chuckled, chattering. "Letâs get out of here."
The drive was slow and tense. Every bump and slide made my stomach knot, but Jensen handled it like a pro. His jaw was set, brows drawn in focus, muscles straining to steer us through the snow. At one point, we skidded dangerously close to a snowbank, and I swear my soul left my body for a second. But Jensen pulled us back. Calm. Collected. Fierce. I could hardly breathe watching him.
Hours passed. The snow began to ease, and so did Jensenâs grip on the wheel. He relaxed just enough to take my hand in his, resting it on my thigh. We stopped once so he could stretch, and I took the opportunity to capture a few picturesâone selfie with snow behind us that I already knew would be my lock screen. It was perfect.
By evening, we reached my apartment. I insisted he stay over. He looked exhausted, and frankly, I wasnât ready to be away from him yet. We ordered sandwiches from the cafe downstairs. As we waited, I massaged his shoulder gently. He let out a sigh of relief and leaned into my touch.
"Thank you," he whispered, wincing as I hit a sore spot.
I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Just rest, okay?"
We didnât talk much that night. After eating, Jensen lay down on the couch and, before I could finish cleaning up, he was asleep. I covered him with a blanket and kissed him goodnight before heading to bed.
I woke up the next morning in Jensen's arms. He mustâve crawled into bed during the night. His scent wrapped around me like a warm cocoon.
"Hey, babe. Sleep well?" he murmured in his gravelly morning voice.
I turned to face him and gasped. His eyes were shining like glass in the early morning sun.
"You okay?" he asked, concerned.
"You just... took my breath away."
He chuckled. "I'm not that good."
"Oh, you are," I whispered, brushing his lips with mine. "You're beautiful."
"Youâre perfect too. Even the flaws I havenât found yet."
I raised an eyebrow. "Flaws? Excuse me?"
Laughing, he rolled on top of me, capturing my lips in a kiss that left us both breathless. One thing led to another, and soon we were tangled in each other againâskin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.
Later, after we cleaned up and grabbed the leftovers for breakfast, I steeled myself for the moment Iâd been dreading: confronting my boss. Jensen walked with me into the office. I felt his presence like armor.
As we passed through the reception, I made my way to Bobby's officeâonly to stop dead in my tracks.
"Come in," a voice called from inside.
It wasn't Bobby.
My heart dropped into my stomach. Sitting in his chair, legs crossed and smug grin in place, was the last person I ever wanted to see.
Kali.
Where the hell was Bobby?
And what the fuck was going on?
All I knew was this: no way in hell was I going to work under her.
To be continued...
Jensen/Dean and Jared/ Sam I love you both @spnbaby-67 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
