Somehow youfound yourself in a bar in Toledo, Ohio, finishing off a forth glass of whiskey before raising a finger toward the irritatingly concerned bartender, who simply rolled his eyes and poured you another without complaint. The necklace that you usually wore around your neck—really it was just a cheap charm scavenged from a yard sale on a long chain, allowing it to normally be easily concealed down by your stomach under whatever shirt you decided to wear—was now between your fingers. You turned the charm around, full 360’s, tapped it on the bar every once in a while, your eyes never really leaving the small, silver charm unless you were taking a drink.
“Rough day?” A man’s voice asked from your side just before you saw a figure sit on the seat beside you. He extended a hand and pointed to the glass in your hand, now only half-full regardless of the fact that the last refill was only a few seconds prior. “What is that, Jack Daniels?”
You smiled and looked over at the man who was now perched beside you, the lust behind his eyes impossible to miss. “Can you smell it or are you just really observant?”
“I like to think it’s a mix of the two,” He said, accepting a drink identical to yours from the bartender. Picking the glass up before looking over at you with a smile, he said “But in my defense, it’s hard to not keep an eye on something as beautiful as you.”
You scoffed and shook your head, your eyebrows raising just before you took another drink of the whiskey in your hand; the feeling of the alcohol going down your gullet was comforting, something you knew you had grown far too dependent on, but you had accepted that it was necessary. Besides, your tolerance was ridiculously high after all these years.
“So tell me,” He said, fully turning his body until his knees were pointed directly at you. “What kind of job do you have that has you up and drinking on a Tuesday night?”
“Well I suppose I could be saying the same to you,” You gestured to the glass in the hand of the man next to you with a small smirk. “I have soda in mine, yours is straight up…” you narrow your eyes and look closer at the glass in the man’s hand before looking back up at him with a proud smile. “What is that, Crown Royal?”
The man’s eyebrows rose as a clear sign that he was impressed, and he simply nodded. “Well, it’s not very common for a woman to know her way around the whiskeys in this part of the world.”
The demon across the bar that you’d had your eye on for some time, the true reason you had come into the bar in the first place, lifted a hand and ordered yet another drink before turning back to the man that sat beside him. You held your eyes on the demon for a few moments before returning them to the man beside you, somehow drawn to him more than you usually were by barflies. Embracing the moment for the first time in quite a while, you laughed and shook your head.
“Well what ‘part of the world’ educates in alcoholic beverages, then?”
“Well, the south,” the man shrugged, his lower lip sticking out slightly as he considered it. “The south and Wisconsin.”
“So then which are you from?”
“Kansas,” he held out a hand, which you took and shook, slightly surprised at how rough and calloused his skin was. It only took a small amount of friction from the shake for you to realize that he used a gun often and, appropriately, his hand was also covered in small scars, likely from either knife fights or extreme clumsiness; it was a tiny leap of logic to figure that it was a hunter sitting beside you. “The name’s Dean.”
“Y/N,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Kansas is the Midwest, though, nice try.”
“Kansas is not the Midwest.” He argued before eyeing up your glass, noting that it was empty, and raising a hand to get the bartender’s attention. Within a few seconds, the bartender was standing before you, your glass in hand, getting you a refill. “Illinois, Indiana, now those are the Midwest, Ohio is maybe the Midwest, but Kansas?” He shook his head. “No deal. Kansas is the south.”
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Hell's Greatest Weapon
FanfictionAfter centuries of incessant war, Reader finally managed to settle down into a normal human life; she attended medical school, bought a house, made friends that didn't make a habit of killing everything that moved. She was out of the life, out of H...
