Supernatural Imagines

Imagine #86

     Imagine: Spending the night at the bar by yourself after a rough day, and you have a little too much to drink. A guy starts harassing you, knowing you'll struggle to fight back. Luckily, a stranger was nice enough to help you.

***

I sat at the bar, sipping down yet another drink. I groaned, setting the glass down. I looked around at all the people who were in there, seeing I was the only one who was really hammered. I sighed, looking at the bartender as he swiped a rag across the countertop.

"Let me get another one, Emmett," I said, crossing my arms.

"Alright, but...I'm gonna have to call you a cab before you go," he told me.

He grabbed my glass, taking it to fill it again. I gave him a tired grin, looking down. I huffed heavily, looking down at my watch to check the time. I had to be up early the next morning, but I didn't really care. It was just a funeral, I thought. A funeral for my sister, who had mysteriously passed away.

A man leaned against the bar, staring right at me. I lifted my head, looking at his creepy smile. He had a white beard, and he was bald. Certainly not my type.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Can I help you with something, buddy?" I asked.

"I certainly hope so," he replied.

I groaned in disgust, rolling my eyes. I looked down, seeing Emmett brought my drink. I nodded, and he gave the man in the leather jacket a quick glance before walking away. The guy moved hair out of my face, and I slapped his wrist away.

"Hey! Screw off!" I demanded.

"Come on, honey," he said. "I can treat you good if you just get to know me."

"I'm not interested, sicko," I said, lifting up my glass. "Should I spell it out for you?"

He sighed, looking up. I scoffed, downing my drink before getting up. I tried to walk away, but he grasped my arm, yanking me back.

"Come on. Let's just have some fun," he said.

"Hey! Get off me!" I shouted.

People just watched, not bothering to help me. I grunted as he grabbed me again, and I couldn't pull away. Suddenly, another man walked up to us, and the guy in the leather jacket looked up at him. He had spiked-up hazel hair, and emerald green eyes. He wore a green utility jacket, having a biker bad boy vibe. I gulped.

"Hey, is there a problem here?" he said.

"No," the man in leather said.

"Yes," I argued, pulling away from the older guy finally. "This jackass won't leave me alone. I'm outta here."

"Woah. I don't think so," the old guy said.

He tried to pull my hair, but the other guy stopped him. He pushed me behind him, punching the old guy in the face, making everyone gasp. I watched, seeing the old guy get mad. He tried to hit back, but the guy caught his hand, kneeing him in the gut and head-butting him. The old guy fell on the floor, hurt. He was tackled by bouncers, who took him toward the door. I looked at the guy in the utility jacket with wide eyes, who was actually kinda hot. Definitely my type.

"Uh...thanks," I chuckled.

"Are you Y/N Y/L/N?" he asked me.

"...Yeah?" I responded.

"I'm Agent LeBlanc, FBI. Call me Dean," he introduced himself, showing me his badge. "I need to ask you a few questions about your sister."

I furrowed my eyebrows, getting confused. I looked back at the doors, wondering if I should take off. I sighed, turning back to Dean.

"What about her?" I wondered.