I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader] Book 2

Release

I halted the spray of red paint from my can and stared down at the devil's trap still drying on the concrete floor. Despite the many traps I had drawn, I always worried that I had missed something – some small symbol, or a line was too thin. There had to be something that would go wrong at the moment we needed it to go perfectly, right? What if my trap failed when the demons inevitably made their move? I didn't want to be responsible for everyone's deaths-

"You're thinking about it too much," I heard Dean's voice from behind me. My heart leaped into my throat. I swore loudly and jumped, stumbling to my feet from my crouched position. Dean's eyes were just as wide as I whirled with him, shaking the can threateningly his way.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" I chastised, fixing him with a weak glare.

Dean threw his hands up in defense, failing to hide the grin that rose on his lips. I scowled and aimed the nozzle of the spray can at him. He quickly threw his hands up in defense, shielding his face. "How was I supposed to know you weren't listening?"

"I was thinking!"

"Yeah! Too much!" Dean said with a laugh as he batted the spray can away. I huffed and allowed the can to clatter to the floor as he approached. His hands reached my wrists before gliding up my covered arms until finally settling on my shoulders. "Don't think I've ever made you jump that bad."

"Don't get used to it," I grumbled as my hands found his shirt beneath a worn denim jacket, bunching the black fabric in my fists. His hands found my hair, brushing through the strands over my remaining ear. I leaned subtly into the touch. "Nancy patched you up?"

"Sure did," he said with a smile, fingertips scratching gently at my scalp. "Good job, too. She's good with a needle."

"Better than Sam?"

"Anyone's better than Sam."

"You are definitely not better with a needle than Sam."

Dean scoffed and rested his palm against my cheek. "I'll just leave Sam to patch you up next time." I bit my lip to suppress a grin and draped my arms over his shoulders.

"Or, hear me out," I answered as I pulled him closer by his shoulders. He lifted a brow at my words with a twitch of his lips. "Let's not do anything that requires getting sewn up."

Dean inhaled sharply through his teeth as his hands dropped to my waist. "Then you're really not going to like what I came over here for."

I narrowed my eyes and gripped his shirt tighter, pulling on the fabric. "You mean you didn't just come over here to scare me?" Dean shook his head and I rolled my eyes. "If you do something stupid-"

"I prefer 'brave,'" he teased. His smile fell away quickly as he glanced over his shoulder towards the main room of the police station. "Look, we've got a whole arsenal in here – guns, ammo, road salt – but we need more than that." My brows furrowed and I cocked my head at a slight angle. Dean sighed and buried his hand into his denim jacket pocket. I scowled as he withdrew a keyring. "Impound keys. I'm gonna grab some things from the trunk."

I raised a single brow. "Great. When are we making a run for it?"

"You're staying here," Dean said with a poke to my shoulder. I glowered at him. "Seriously! Sam needs help getting the PA set up-"

"Sam knows how to run a PA. You're not going out there alone," I ordered, poking him more firmly in his good shoulder. "We've got no idea how many of them are out there, Dean. So I'll cover you while you grab whatever you need. Sounds good?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Never."

—

I slammed the door behind Dean and immediately reached for the bag of salt leaning against the door. "They're coming!" he shouted, frantic voice ringing through the whole station as I dumped heaps of salt around the edge of the door. A startled screech escaped my lips and I collapsed against the wall as the massive wall of black smoke crashed against the station wall, the salt blocking their entry just in time.