The Man with No Eyes | Dean Winchester x reader

Part 3

When the familiar knock sounded at the front door, you jumped a mile into the air. You surveyed your appearance in your full-body mirror one last time. Your clothes were passable (you gave extra attention to your shirt choice, making sure that it hugged your curves and was a notable 80s Rock band). Your makeup was as good as it was going to get, and with relief you realized that you could blame the redness on lack of sleep and allergies. You shining hair was in light waves and caught the light as it cascaded down your shoulders, and you had to admit, it looked pretty damn good. You had been drenched in sweat and dust yesterday, the boys would hardly recognize you now.

You bit your bottom lip nervously as you descended the stairs, then quickly stopped when you realized that you may be smudging your subtle lip color. They knocked again, and you sped up your pace. Without even looking through the peep hole, you clicked open the deadbolt, slid the chain back, and swung the door open with what you would soon realize was an overly-eager grin.

Sam and Dean suddenly stood up straighter with plastered smiles, trying to hide the conversation they'd obviously been having before you opened the door.

"H-hi, guys," you smiled. You flushed at the sound of your own voice, high-pitched and weak. Damn, what were you, a middle-schooler?

Sam was returning your smile, albeit slightly awkward, and Dean's smirk was so pronounced that you absolutely refused to look at him. You weren't some ditzy house girl, and you immediately tried to talk some sense into yourself. Get it together, Y/N, get it together!

"Come on in," you ushered, attempting to cover an awkward silence, stepping back and opening the door wide enough to let the two enter the foyer. "Before you two get to work, do you want anything to drink? Water, soda, beer?"

"Beer," Dean piped up immediately. You raised your brows at Sam.

"Yeah, I guess I'll take one too, thanks," he nodded. You quickly walked into the kitchen, leaving the boys in the living room, anxious to hide your face even if it was for a few seconds. You rolled your eyes at yourself. You needed to get a grip and get down to business, nothing good would come from anything your subconscious kept trying to pelt you with. After drawing out your absence for as long as you could, you strutted back into the room with three beers in tow, feeling slightly taller.

The two massive guys huddled on your couch made the piece of furniture look tiny, and it made you smile. They returned your friendly grin as you handed them their beverages.

"So," you sighed, feeling a little less awestruck in their presence, "you guys had a good look around yesterday. What's the damage?"

They exchanged a loaded glance.

"Well, we noticed that a lot of work needed to be done in the basement, of course," Sam explained, suddenly all business. Dean took a swig of his beer and you did your very best not to make eye contact with him, still embarrassed from your over-excitement at the front door. "Let us ask you something first, before we dive into details. Do you ever experience anything, I don't know, strange? Whether it's with temperature, anything?"

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "Strange? What do you mean?"

"You know, cold spots, noises..." Dean prompted you, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees, looking you full in the face. You ignored the frantic fluttering in your chest and continued to feel confused. Sam quickly cut in.

"We're trying to see if maybe there are any spots in the home that fluctuate in temperature, because that could be the first place we should replace the insulation," Sam said. You nodded in understanding.