Drunk John

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Drunk John makes a pass at you. Dean walks in and explodes, thinking it was mutual. When he sees you crying he then goes off on his dad.

Y/N = Your Name (told from your point of view)

Triggers: sexual assault mention, drunk father figure

I've been held up at our little cabin for a few weeks now. Dean is so worried about me I am pretty much stuck here 24/7. He and Sam left for a job five days ago. I heard from him saying they were closing in on it yesterday, but I wasn't sure when they'd be back.

John showed up a couple hours ago. We've only been around each other a few times. He's been real quiet, held up in his room with a big bottle of whiskey. I have just been sitting in mine and Dean's room reading some old books. I felt hungry, so I decided to put on my shorts and head out to make some food.

As I made myself a late dinner I heard footsteps fumbling up behind me. I turned and smiled at John politely. We don't know each other very well at all, but I love Dean with everything I am and his dad is his hero. So I try my best to be nice.

"Hey, John. Are you hungry?" I asked nicely.

He paused where he was and I watched his eyes look over me from head to toe. The look in those eyes made me very uncomfortable. He was just standing there, about ten feet from me, checking me out plain as day like it was normal. He smirked to himself and took a wobbly drunken step toward me, "Oh, darlin' I am a few different kinds of hungry. So what exactly are you offering me here?"

I cleared my throat and moved away a bit. "I am making myself a salad and sandwich. Would you like some?"

I watched him smirk even bigger, then he cleared his throat, "Oh I'd like a bit of something alright.."

"John. I'm offering you food here, that's it." I said firmly.

He chuckled lowly, taking another step toward me and making my skin crawl. "Are you sure about that, sweetheart? You sure don't look like you dressed not to get this attention."

I huffed and tried to move past him. He blocked my path to the hallway. He was overwhelming my senses with the stench of whiskey. I tried to take a deep breath to calm down, but only wanted to gag from the smell.

He took a step even closer, so I walked backwards... well until my back his the counter. He had me trapped. His body slowly pushed onto mine, pinning me down as his weight started to push on me

"John. Stop." I tried to sound firm and strong.

He put his hand on my upper arm, and I was getting more uncomfortable by the second. What was he doing? "Come on, little girl, you know you want this as much as I do. Or you wouldn't have dressed in such short little shorts in front of me."

I tried to wiggle out from under him but instead one of his hands when to my hip and he dipped his head low so his lips were brushing my neck as he spoke.

"Stop it. Let me go." I started to cry. Tears were filling my eyes because of his grip hurting me and I was scared of what he was doing. I just wanted him to stop, let me go and let me go back to my room until Dean for back.

He whipped me around like a rag-doll. My hips slammed into the counter which made me squeak in pain, and it was sure to leave a bruise. He held me in place with one hand, the other slowly slid up my side. I let out another whimper.

"Shhh. It's alright sweetheart. I'll be gentle... at first." He chuckled to himself, his lips brushing against the skin of my neck again.

"John.." I started to protest, but then we heard, "What the HELL is this?!"

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