Confetti It's A PARADE! Of Supernatural Imagines.

Hustling Pool

Dean winchester x Reader
Synopsis: You and Dean are trying to earn some spending money.
Warning:some mention of rape, name calling

Your cash reserve was running low. Of course you still had your fake credit cards that you used for motels and gas, but you needed some cash on hand for other things. Dean had talked you and Sam into joining him at the local bar, a large country type bar, full of college kids, and those still wishing they were in college.

"We could hustle pool again," Dean suggested, and you agreed. It wasn't the most legal way to make money, but one of the easiest. Dean was usually the best at it, Sam was good, but tried to stay away from it. They had slowly been teaching you, and you were finally getting the hang of it.

Sam came back from the bar, holding three ice cold bottles in his hand. As he sat down across from you and Dean, you take one of the bottles.

"So Sammy, what do you say about hustling a little pool?" Dean suggested.

"Whatever you want to do Dean, just don't count me in."

"Come on Sam, you are so good at it." Dean whined, trying to get Sam to do it.

Sam was unfazed, he ignored Dean and took a sip of his beer. "Why don't you get Y/N to do it? She's getting better, and a lot of guys have been checking her out."

Dean grew angry at that. "Who? Show them to me, and I'll deck them. I'm the only one who gets to check out Y/N."

"Is that all I am to you Dean, is a pretty piece of ass?" You tease, secure in the fact that your relationship went a lot deeper than that.

Dean grew flustered, trying to talk, instead just muttering incomprehensible words.

Gulping down the rest of your beer, you push Dean out of the booth, heading to the bathroom.

The bathroom was empty, it's counter stained from years of beer bottles, shots of whiskey, and other things you didn't want to think about. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you take off your tshirt, buttoning your plaid so it was your only shirt, but leaving the top buttons undone to show your cleavage to the best advantage. You tie the bottom of your plaid, so it shows the smooth skin between it and your low riding jeans. You pull your (hair color) hair out of its braid, fluffing it up, giving it some much needed volume. Feeling ready, you strut out of the bathroom, walking past the brothers table. Dean notices you, his jaw dropping. You take his beer bottle, taking another sip before exaggerating a drunken walk torwards the pool tables.

There was a group of college aged men, playing pool, and they all stopped to watch you walk up.

"Hey honey, what can we do for you?" The ringleader, a tall muscled blonde man wearing name brand clothes, inquired.

You smile, getting closer to him than you would like. "I was hoping there was someone here who could teach me how to play pool."

He smiles, and you had to control the urge to gag. He was attractive, but if felt wrong, like you were cheating on Dean.

"I can teach you anything you want," He says, trying to be seductive. You giggle, placing your hand on his chest. "I'm Lilah, can we just start with pool?"

"Sure thing Lilah. I'm Brad."

They start a new game of pool, and you act naive, having him show you how to hold the stick, where to set up, what balls to hit. He enjoys it, getting close, standing behind you as you attempt to take a shot. You glance up from the corner of your eye to see Dean storming out of the bar. Sam shrugs.

The first game comes to an end, you and Brad had lost against his friends. You pout, "I'm sorry we lost. I will try better next time."

"How about another game sugar?" Brad inquires, caging you against the table. You fight against your urge to beat the crap out of the bastard, instead you smile, trying to bat your eye lashes at him, hoping you didn't look too weird.

"Sure thing, handsome. How about just you and me? We can make things interesting."

He pulls your hips into his, whispering into your ear, "Looking forward to it."

"I was thinking we could place money on it. Each place 200 down, winner takes all."

"Aren't you a naive little sweetheart. Sure honey, but money won't be the only thing I'm taking home tonight."

Smiling, you crawl under his arm, while still trying to act seductive. He let's you start the game, and you try a little harder. He was surprised when you had multiple balls fall into the pockets.

"Beginner's luck?" You shrug.

The game progresses fairly fast, you doing pretty good, and Brad getting grumpy by the second.

You finally pocket the 8 ball, winning the game. You blow a kiss to Brad, taking the 400 dollars that you had both placed on the side of the table.

"Thanks for the game Brad," You tell him, waving as you try to walk off.

"Wait!" He yells, rushing around the table, and grabbing your arm, creating bruises. "You Bitch, you cheated. You were never interested in me, you just wanted the money. We'll I still want you, and I'm going to get what I want. Come on!"

You struggle, but no one paid attention, as he dragged you out the back entrance. Sam or Dean was nowhere to be seen, and you were starting to panic.

Brad slams you against the wall, crushing you with his body, before brutally pressing his lips to yours. He holds your hands up with one of his beefy ones, using his other hand to rip the buttons off of your shirt.

You struggle against him, but you were no match for his line backer type body frame. He roughly grabs your breast, and you moan in pain. It spurs him on, and he forces his tongue into your mouth. You bite it, angering him, and he lets go of your breast to slap your face.

"You whore. You know you want it."

"Get off of her now, and maybe I won't kill you." You hear Dean state, the anger in his voice recognizable.

Brad laughs, "You mean this slut? She wanted it, she is just playing hard to get."

Dean yanks Brads head back, pulling him off of you. "That's my girlfriend you just insulted. " Dean lets his fist fly, smashing into Brads nose. By this time, Sam has joined you, shrugging off his jacket and placing it around you. You both watch as Dean and Brad circle each other, sizing their opponent up. Brad decides to rile Dean up.

"That's your girlfriend? I'm not sure I'd be proud to call her that, with how many guys she's probably spread her legs for."

Dean growls, and charges. Brad had no chance, Dean might have been an inch or two smaller, but he had plenty more experience with fighting. He starts pounding against Brad, hitting anywhere he could reach. Before long, Brad is laying on the ground, moaning in pain. You walk over, placing your hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean stop, he's not worth it. Let's go, please."

Dean listened to you, and he threw his arm over your shoulder, guiding you around the bar, to the Impala.

"Sam, can we have a minute?"

Sam nods, before walking to the corner of the parking lot, giving the two of you some privacy."

"Y/N, I'm sorry, I should have been there for you. But I couldn't handle how that guy was looking at you, and I needed some air."

You wrap your arms around Dean, pressing your head against his chest, finding comfort in the steady beat of Dean's heart.

"Dean it wasn't your fault. I pushed that guy a little too far."

"Don't you believe a word that jock said to you. You are none of those things. Promise me, you won't hustle pool by yourself any more."

You nod your head, glad you had your own knight in shining armor.