Pretty Boy: Dean Winchester x Reader

Chapter 9:

"So, how do we ditch Emily?" I asked, looking up at Dean.

"I don't think we can." He said back.

"Can we cuff her to her bed?" I asked.

"I don't think her FBI friends would appreciate that." Dean muttered, "Speaking of, how do you work with them?"

"Well, usually, I just ignore them and do my job." That wasn't entirely true, as I've had to shut some of them up when they thought I couldn't do my job. Shutting them up usually involved saving their asses... occasionally a wild drunken night after solving a case. Dean and I finished our pizza and I had another beer. I sat up, heading over to my bag. I flipped through it, finally finding my Marilyn Monroe-type dress. It was red, and off the shoulder with a slim, pencil shape. I pulled it out, holding it up.

"Where are you going to put your gun?" Dean asked.

"I'll figure something out." I said. "I'm bringing my knife and my shoes." I answered. Dean rolled his eyes. "You're going to be there, dude, it's not like I'll have no fire-power." I said.

"And what the fuck do you mean shoes?" Dean asked. I reached back into my bag, pulling out a pair of matching red pumps that had ribbons that criss-crossed up my legs. I handed them to him, he looked them over, his eyes settling on the fitted, sharp, silver tips on the heels. "Are these...?"

"Yep, I made them myself."

"That's the coolest thing I've ever fucking seen." Sam said, looking over Dean's shoulder. I headed to the bathroom, closing the door and pulling off my top and my skirt, pulling on my dress. I reached back, trying to zip it up, but the zipper got caught in the fabric of my bra. I left the bathroom, going to Dean.

"Hey, can you fix my zipper?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure." Dean murmured, he placed his hand on my side, gripping the zipper with his other hand. He tried to pull it down, but it was still stuck in the fabric. "Shit." He muttered under his breath. He gripped my side harder. I wanted nothing more than to pounce on him at this moment, but we were sharing a room and my cousin was down the hall, not to mention, we had a job to do. "Here, let me-" He unclipped my bra and pulled on it, but it stayed stuck in the teeth of the zipper. "It's fucked up." He murmured. He turned away from me to look at Sam. "Sammy, can you pull this out while I unzip it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam answered, coming over to us. He braced his arm on my back, pulling the band of my bra away while Dean pulled the zipper down. I finally felt it pop free and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Can you just pull my bra out? I don't need it." I said, not wanting to mess up my bra or my zipper.

"Mhm." Sam murmured. I slid my arms out of the straps and he took it, tossing it on the bed. Dean zipped up the dress. The metal of the zipper was cold on my skin. Dean's hand ghosted over my abdomen as I turned to face him. I looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

"Thank you." I murmured, he leaned in a bit closer, glancing at my lips, "Where are my shoes?" I asked. He smirked and turned, grabbing my shoes from where they had placed them on the couch. I took one and bent forward, picking up my boot. I wasn't putting my bad ankle in harm's way. Well... any more than usual. I turned to where Sam was seated on the bed. I sat beside him, slipping on my shoe and then my boot, fixing the velcro, securing it tightly. Dean headed into the bathroom. I stood and bent down, trying to tie the ribbons on my shoes.

"Let me help." Sam said, opening his arms. I perched my foot in his lap and his hand gripped my calf as he wrapped the ribbons around my leg in a criss-cross pattern. He tied it at the top.

"Thank you." I said, tousling his long hair and heading over to my bag. I looked through it, looking for my gun. I must have left it with my pants. I headed to the bathroom, knocking on the door.