You sigh at the floorboards beneath you, knowing that you still have a lot of work to do. The movement makes your hair fall out of your carefully-constructed messy bun. You curse inwardly. No matter how many times you try, you just can't get your hair to look like the girls' on Pinterest.
With another great sigh, you bend your knees and with great effort, try to lift your gargantuan industrial clock that you just found for a steal at a local garage sale. You've always envisioned it being the centerpiece of the room, mounted on the fireplace brick. You hastily put the clock back down before you hurt yourself, or worse - drop the clock and break it. You'd had it for less than 24 hours and what some would call a decorative monstrosity was already your favorite thing in the house.
You'd been searching for an old fixer-upper and after months and months of searching, there this beautiful old thing sat on your computer screen. The bank had just made it available for sale - and astoundingly it was under budget. Like, really under budget. You figured it was because the house must have needed a lot of TLC inside. You weren't exactly wrong, but it wasn't as bad as you'd expected. You brushed it off. This was your dream house, why look too far into it?
You decide to save the clock-mounting for when you had another brave, yet unfounded moment of strength. This was something that those contractors you called over a week ago could be doing - should be doing. With the money you saved on buying the place, you had some left over to hire people to do the hard stuff like mixing drywall and all that mess. These guys came highly recommended on Craigslist, but they hadn't shown up when they said they would and had yet to return any of your irritated, yet eerily calm calls. You hated confrontation. Of course, now that you think about it, they were off of Craigslist... you kind of set the trap up for yourself on that one.
You plop down on your new couch and look around the room, assessing what was left to do. The curtains needed to be hung since the paint was finally dry. You needed to hook up the TV with all of your devices, the majority of your pictures needed to be hung and you still think you want to switch the furniture around a bit - now that you've gotten used to it, you don't like that chair there. In addition to all of that, you hadn't even started unpacking the dining room yet. Oh, and you can't forget to hang that damn clock.
You're startled out of your mental to-do list by a sudden knock at the door. You blanch. You weren't expecting company! You're in some sweatpants that make your butt look big and a probably too-tight ACDC shirt, now that you think about it. You probably needed to get another one, but it'd become your favorite and no one was supposed to be coming over today anyway! Hastily, you check your disheveled reflection in your new mirror by the door and decide that it's not getting any better than that. You peep through the peep hole and spy two indistinct male forms. You feel nervous answering the door by yourself, but you do anyway after another insistent knock from one of them. You take a deep breath and barely squeak it open, just enough to poke your face through. The chain lock above your head is still secure.
You're greeted by the sight of two surprisingly attractive guys that calmly smile at you. You suddenly wish you were wearing something more flattering - or that maybe you'd showered. Yeah, showers are good thing to have around hot guys.
"Hi."
"Hey."
They take turns with their informal greetings and flash attractive half-smiles at you. Ugh, their voices were to die for too. Great. You would be looking like a disheveled college student who just rolled out of bed when potential soulmates knock on your door. This would happen to you.
Trying hard not to sound like a flustered idiot, you finally find words.
"Uh, hey," you greet back unsurely. You look back and forth between them. God, they got hotter by the second. "Do I know you guys?" You're pretty sure you wouldn't have forgotten these two.
YOU ARE READING
The Man with No Eyes | Dean Winchester x reader
HorrorSam and Dean show up at your door, claiming to be contractors that arrive late to look at the space you're wanting to remodel in your newly-bought house: the basement. But are they who they say they are? And why does the one in the leather jacket ke...