Supernatural Oneshots/Imagines

<getting reacquainted> (dean x reader)

Summary: Your out a hunt, tracking down a Vamp nest when the shadow of two large figures reach around the corner you were about to round. You kick away the larger figure and pin your knife against the shorter mystery figures neck. It wasn't until you heard his voice that you realized who it was...

You've been tracking down this vamp nest for 3 weeks now. You found a connection with all of the murders and missing persons cases. Each person had disappeared after a night at the same bar. You lifted your hand to pinch the soft skin between your eyebrows before letting out a deep huff. You'd been tracking these sob's for weeks now. How could you have missed such a vital piece of information? You grabbed your beer off of the table beside your laptop and leaned back into the cheep motel kitchen chair.

You dropped your hand and stared at the illuminated screen as you took a swig of the coors in your right hand. You set the bottle down and reached forward, pressing onto the keypad to check the time. 6:30. You shrugged. You didn't have anything better to do. You might as well hit up the bar and see if you can spot the fang. You reach up and close the laptop, setting your beer down after taking another sip. You grabbed the keys to your car and stand up from the rickety motel chair. You grab your sun bleached army green jacket and throw it over your self, shifting your keys into your other hand to get your arms into the thick sleeves. You hop over to the door and slowly pull it open, walking out into the darkening parking lot.

"Hello, Mama." You smirked, running your hand down the muscular body of your 1968 dodge hemi charger. You slip your hand under the handle and pull the door open. You let out a sigh as you slip into the cold leather of your seat, reaching your hand up and running your fingers along the wheel. You pressed the key into the ignition and smirked as you heard Mama roar and turn over. You pat your hands against the wheel and reach up to turn the radio on. Your bop your head along to the beat of the song that played: Where Did You Sleep Last Night by Nirvana.  You grinned and pulled Mama into reverse and you backed out, shifting her up into drive as you peeled out of the parking lot and down the road to the bar.

You got to the bar at 7:20. You pulled into the parking lot and set Mama into park, pulling the key out of the ignition. You reached up to pull your rear view down, looking at yourself in the reflection. You fixed your hair and repositioned the mirror before stepping out of the car. You jogged over to the steps and walked up, reaching forward to pull the door open. You were smacked in the face with the distinct odor of alcohol and brew. You groaned. You didn't so much mind bars, but you sure weren't very fond of the scent. You walked over to the bar and sat yourself on a stool, lifting your hand to wave at one of the bartenders. She smiled and walked over, tossing a rag over her shoulder.

"What can I get ya?" She asked and placed a hand on her hip.
"A shot of whiskey, please." You smiled back.
"One shot, coming right up." She nodded and spun around to grab one of the shot glasses, grabbing the whiskey and tossing it behind her back, catching it in her other hand.
"Nice. I like a lady who knows how to use her hands." You winked.
She chuckled and poured you your shot.
"Maybe when my shifts over I could show you just how skilled they are." She leaned forward, your eyes slowly falling over her chest as she pushed your shot forward.
"Sounds like a plan." You smirk as you look up at her. Taking the shot from her hands you slide your fingers over hers. She smiled and walks off to take another persons order.

You watch as she walks off, turning your eyes back to the row of shelves before downing your shot. You place it on the bar, staring down at the glass. You inconspicuously glance around the area. Your eyes wander over the bustling mass of bodies on the dance floor to the singles sitting at the bar, and back to those sitting at the tables. Your eyes fall on one brunette, his face buried in the neck of a young blonde. To your normal every day person, he seemed like a normal touch starved young man. But as a hunter, you could tell the way that he lingers around her pulse point that he was probably the fang you were looking for, and the young woman fit the description of the other young missing persons. You slowly tap your glass against the bar.