Supernatural Imagines and One-shots (Requests Closed)

Hold on Tight - John Winchester

A/N: Language, domestic fighting

***

John was exhausted. This hunt had been going on for three days. Research had led him to a small house near the edge of the woods, but his trip there tonight had proven fruitless. And now, there was this to deal with.

He studied the door of the room before him, a slight tendril of fear creeping up his spine. He thought he'd be past this after all these years. He took a deep fortifying breath and let himself into the room.

The woman cuffed to the bed whipped her head to the side to glare at him and he winced. Damn. He was lucky she wasn't a witch or he'd be on a one-way trip back to hell. He dropped his bag to the floor and shut and locked the door to the room. Turning back to look at the bed, he tilted his head and held out his hands in a placating gesture.

"All right, Y/N," he said doing his best to convey a non-threatening demeanor. "I know you're not happy right now. I'm going to let you go. Are you going to stay calm?"

She nodded once, a harsh movement that made him wonder at the truth behind it. He couldn't leave her chained up forever, though. He hooked a finger under the rag he'd used as a gag and pulled it away from her mouth. She still glared at him, but said nothing. He ran his thumb over the slight red marks on the skin on either side of her mouth. He didn't think they'd bruise. They shouldn't, anyway. He'd been very careful when he secured her.

First, he unlocked the cuff on her right wrist. After waiting to make sure she wasn't going to do anything stupid, he then unlocked the other and braced himself.

***

You huffed out a sound of disgust as you swung your legs off the bed to sit on the edge of it, your back to John. You massaged your wrists though they didn't really hurt. The skin was simply irritated from where the metal had rubbed against it. Tears burned in your eyes but you held them back. You were so humiliated and angry and...Damn it! Sometimes he was such a dick. You clenched your teeth together and closed your eyes, trying to control your temper.

"Y/N?" the man questioned tentatively when several minutes passed without you saying anything.

Instead of responding, you stood and strode into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind you. You gripped the edge of the counter and bowed your head forward. Your muscles literally trembled with your anger. Tears dropped into the sink beneath you. If you screamed at him, he wouldn't listen. You knew that and he needed to hear you this time. This shit was not okay.

A long sigh came from the other side of the door. The fact that he had the nerve to sound bothered, annoyed, had you straightening your spine and swiping away the tears. "Come on, Sweetheart. Talk to me."

Sweetheart? You searched the motel bathroom hoping for some sort of weapon. A smirk lit your features when you found the old, heavy hairdryer. You hefted it in your hand then turned and unlocked the door. As you swung it open, John took a step back.

You brandished the hairdryer in front of you like a weapon. And it very well could be in your hands. You had a knack for using the simplest of things in the deadliest manners. His gaze immediately locked on the appliance in your hands. He tilted his head and took another step away, his hands in front of him like a shield.

"Now, Y/N/N. Be reasonable."

Surely you hadn't heard him correctly. "Reasonable? You cuffed me to the fucking bed and you want me to be reasonable?" Your voice was low, angry. You didn't miss the slight widening of his eyes. You only got this way when you were furious and he knew it.