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korelist · 11 months

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BACKSTREET ROOKIE // KDRAMA DİZİ YORUMU

UYARI : Yazılar genel olarak spoiler içerebilir. İçermeyedebilir.

İmdb: 7,5 Benim Puanım: 7

Drama: Backstreet Rookie (English title) / Convenience Store Saet-Byeol (literal title)

Hangul: 편의점 샛별이

Director: Lee Myung-Woo

Writer: Hwalhwasan (webcomic), Geumsagong (webcomic), Son Geun-Joo

Date: 2020

Language: Korean

Country: South Korea

Cast: Ji Chang-Wook, Kim You-Jung, Han Sun-Hwa, Ahn Sol-Bin, Kim Min-Kyu, Eum Moon-Suk, Kim Sun-Young

İmdb: 7,5

Benim Puanım: 7

2020 SBS Drama Awards - December 31, 2020

Excellent Actress (Kim You-Jung)

Bende birçok izleyici gibi Ji Chang-Wook’un bir an önce ajans değiştirmesi gerektiğini düşünenlerdenim. Kendisi bu konu ile ilgili her ne kadar “hayranların istedikleri rollerdense beni tatmin eden işler içerisinde olmayı tercih ediyorum.” dese de işlerin reytingleri ortada. Backstreet Rookie de konusu, çekimleri ve hikayesi ile zayıf kalan bir diziydi. Komedi ve abartı unsurlarına ağırlık vermiş olsa bile yeterli olmamış diye düşünüyorum. Aşk hikayesi demeye ise asla dilim varmıyor. Yine bir Webtoon hikayesinin ekmeğini yemişiler.

Dizinin orijinal ismi olan “Pyeonuijeom Saetbyeoli”’in marketin Saet-Byul’ü gibi bir anlamı var. Jung Saet-Byul(Kim You-Jung) liseye giderken ilk görüşte Choi Dae-Hyun (Ji Chang-Wook) ‘a aşık oluyor. Okul dışında yanlarından geçen bu aşık olduğu adamın dudaklarına yapışıveriyor. Sahneyi de oldukça abartılı çekmişler. Kızımız uçarak adamın üzerine atlıyor falan, neyse. Dizi Kore’de bölümlük yayınlanırken bu sahne üzerine hoop yine başlıyor spekülasyonlar. Kim You-Jung 1999 doğumlu gencecik bir çıtır olduğundan “Love in the Moonlight” dizisinde Park Bo-Gum ile çektikleri öpüşme sahnesinde 17 yaşındaydı. Bu o zaman hem dizi yapım ekibinin hem de partnerinin topa tutulmasına neden olmuştu. Bu dizide de lise kıyafetleri ile kendinden çok büyük bir erkek ile öpüştüğü için topa tutuluyor. Burada ufak bir Goblin dizisini hatırlatmalıyım. Kore’nin kült yapımlarından biri olan Goblin’de liseli bir kızın devasa yaş farkı olan bir adamla aşkı anlatılıyordu. Ki oyuncular arasındaki yaş farkı da bir o kadar vardı. Sanırım niyet önemli. Ve kesinlikle kalite olarak karşılaştırılamayacağını biliyorum, yalnızca yüzeysel benzerlik nedeni ile araya girdim. Bu konuyu bir kenara bırakırsak yeni nesil oyuncular arasında Kim You-Jung’u çok başarılı buluyorum. Dizilerle hatta dönem dizileri ile büyümüş bir oyuncu olarak birçok oyuncuya taş çıkarttığında görebilirsiniz.

Çok fazla konuyu dağıtmadan geri döneyim, Saet-Byul bu sansasyonel sahne sonrasında hayatı yokuş aşağı giden bir kızı canlandırıyor. Babasını erken yaşta kaybediyor ve kardeşine bakmak için okulu bırakıyor. Yıllar sonra Dae-Hyun’un çalıştığı markette iş başvurusunda buluyor. Choi Dae-Hyun (Ji Chang-Wook) ise kendisini tamamen işine adamış 30larında market yöneticisidir. Ailesiyle birlikte büyük bir market markasının franchise’ını işletmektedir. Hayatta çok amacı olmayan, tek istediği marketin iyi satışlar yapması müşterilerin mutlu olmasıdır. Dizinin ağır eleştiriler almasının bir diğer nedeni de Choi Dae-Hyun’un yakın arkadaşı olan Han Dal-Sik (Eum Moon-Suk) karakteridir. Bob Marley hayranı olduğu için onun gibi giyinen karakter, dramanın ırkçılıkla suçlanmasına neden olmuş.

Bu kadar tepkiye etki olarak dizideki bütün romantik yakınlaşmaları çıkartmışlar. Hikaye olarak da bakıldığında romantik bir durum olmayınca anlatmaya çalışılan aşk da izleyiciye hiç geçmiyor. Kaldı ki kızımız aşık olduğu adamın yanında işe başlıyor beyimiz kendisinden oldukça büyük ve uzun süredir de bir kız arkadaşı var. Yoo Yeon-Joo (Han Sun-Hwa) çok zengin bir ailenin kızı, Dae-Hyun’un bundan haberi olmamasını geçtim çift olarak asla uyumlu değillerdi. Oyuncu yada oyunculuk olarak söylemiyorum. Yanlış anlaşılmasın, senaryo gereği karakterler birbirine uygun değillerdi. Dizinin bu kısmında hangisinin birinci hangisinin ikinci kız olduğu birbirine karıştı. Son bölümlere kadar ikisinin de ön planda olması çok tatsızdı. Dae-Hyun dizinin başından sonuna kadar Saet-Byul’a kız kardeşi gibi davrandı. Hiç iki kadın idare etme gibi bir mevzuya girilmedi. Hal böyle olunca da evin küçük kızından büyük aşık moduna geçemedi.

Finalde havada kalan ya da koca sezon boşa izletilen şeylerde vardı. Yoo Yeon-Joo’nun şirketteki kötü adam figürü gereksiz bir iki yükseldi, sonra bir anda bitti. Niye geldi niye gitti belli olmadı. Saet-Byul’un okuldan arkadaşı Kang Ji-Wook (Kim Min-Kyu) da diziye çok yüksekten giriş yapanlardandı. Karizmatik, zengin, yetenekli, kibar… herşeyi toplamış ona vermişler. Sonra sessiz sedasız azalarak yok oldu. Son olarak da Saet-Byul’un kız arkadaş grubu! 3 kişilik bu grup dizinin daha ortalarına gelmeden bir anda 2 kişi kaldı. Kızlardan birini bir anda senaryodan çıkardılar. Hiç anlam veremedim.

Toparlayıp bitirmem gerekirse; diziyi keyifle izledim. Bu kadar gömdükten sonra ne kadar inandırıcı olacak emin değilim ama sıkılmadım. Ortalama, çerezlik bir diziydi. Benim açımdan Ji Chang-Wook’a bakış açımı biraz değiştirdi. Oyuncuyla “The sound of Magic” ile tanıştığımda çok beğenmiştim. Sonra izlediğim dizileri ve takip ettiğim showlarda hatta vlog videolarında bir şey fark ettim. Oyuncu hep aynı. Şaşırması, korkması, birini dinlerken ki mimikleri… Bu beni bir miktar, çok az bir miktar soğutmadı değil. Şimdi 2023 dizisi “The Worst Evil” duyurulmuş. Çok içten umuyorum ki bu sefer şeytanın bacağını kıracak, hadi bakalım.

OST:

April - Crazy

Raven Melus

BAŞKA NELER VAR ?

FOTOĞRAFLAR

#Backstreet Rookie #kdrama #dizi #inceleme #yorum #eleştiri #Ji Chang-Wook #Kim You-Jung #Han Sun-Hwa #Ahn Sol-Bin #Kim Min-Kyu #Eum Moon-Suk #Kim Sun-Young

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zepskies · 1 year

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Devour Me - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: This is a two-part sequel to “Midnight Espresso!” I would read that one first before you dive into this one. (It’s fun, I promise!)

Word Count: 3,800 Tags/Warnings: Supernatural shenanigans, tiny bit of body insecurity, hurt/comfort, fluffy fluff, and a cliffhanger...

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 1: "A Takeover"

When Dean asked you to move in with him, he really didn’t think it would come to this.

Clearing a nightstand for you, half of the dresser, a section of his closet. Those things are reasonable.

But this is a total takeover, he thinks, as he surveys the sheer amount of crap you’ve brought into his room.

Mind you, despite this still being a bunker, the décor is nice. You brought in sturdy, but stylish wicker baskets for his pile of cassettes (and your CDs) next to the TV, filing bins for the haphazard shuffle of papers on his desk, installed dark wood shelves on the wall for his various weapons and your collection of books.

But he’d had his music organized—not alphabetically or chronologically, but by his own personal rankings of awesomeness. Now they’re all shuffled together by band name.

Plus, he likes having his shotgun on the floor by the bed, within reach, not three feet above his head. And where the fuck is his collection of…magazines?

The point is, every time he looks for something, you’ve put it in a different place. Not to mention the damn bathroom (don’t get him started on all your shea butter lotions, makeup brushes, frilly-smelling soaps, and the army of hair products now taking up space in his cabinets and drawers).

Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out where the hell his cassette of Zeppelin IV is, when you breeze into the room he now shares with you. You’re dewy with sweat in a Guns & Roses shirt and some yoga pants you reserve for cleaning.

And that’s another thing. You’re more anal than Sam about having the bunker smelling like Pine Sol. However, as you’ve expressed before (after nagging him to pick up his dirty, and occasionally bloody clothes from the floor), while you like a clean house, you are not in fact the maid.

“Hey, baby. Can you fold these for me?” you request. “I need a shower.”

He raises a brow as you dump a new basket of fresh laundry onto the bed. It looks like you washed your clothes mixed in with his, which he actually doesn’t mind. He fishes out one of your red, lacey thongs with a hint of a smile. He bought you these last week, and they already have a tear. (His fault.)

“By the way, next time you move one of my things, mind leaving me a post-it note or something?” he dryly remarks. “It’s like a scavenger hunt in my own damn room.”

You pop your head out of the bathroom, though he can tell by your bare shoulders that you’ve already gotten undressed. Your mouth is quirked at the corner.

“It’s called organization,” you tease. “Apparently a foreign concept to you.”

You disappear back into the bathroom, giving Dean the privacy he needs to grumble almost inaudibly to himself. But then he hears your voice behind the door.

“Oh, by the way. Your vintage collection of smut is in the bottom of your nightstand,” you call out. “That 1996 edition of Busty Asian Beauties is particularly classy.”

Dean hears the wryness in your tone, and his face actually heats up in embarrassment. He frowns at the bathroom door, his jaw tensing, but he takes a breath. Deciding to let it go with a roll of his shoulders, he puts on the TV to catch up on Dr. Sexy M.D. He also neglects the task you gave him, just for a little while.

When you’re still in the bathroom an hour later, Dean starts to get curious about what the hell you’re doing in there. The shower isn’t even running anymore.

That’s when he hears the hairdryer go on.

He knows he’ll never be able to concentrate on his show with all that noise. So with a sigh, he clicks off the TV and eyes the pile of laundry. You probably cleaned the whole freaking bunker this morning. Despite his annoyance, he figures folding your clothes along with his own is the least he can do.

Dean scoops up the pile back into the basket and takes it elsewhere.

He finds his brother at the kitchen table and joins him with his basket. Sam’s gaze raises from his laptop to meet his brother’s grumpy face. He watches in mild curiosity as Dean plops down across from him and dutifully begins folding one of your shirts.

“You okay?” Sam hazards the question.

“Fucking peachy,” Dean replies. “Looking for a new case?”

“Yeah. Nothing yet.” Though Sam raises a brow when Dean all but tosses one of your girly sundresses on the table after it’s folded. (It’s yellow, and it happens to be his favorite on you.)

“Everything all right?” Sam asks.

Dean glances up, finds his brother’s knowing eyes, and doesn’t have it in him to lie. He lets go of a breath, as well as one of his undershirts to rub at his forehead.

“She’s nosey, Sam. She’s all up in my business.”

“Your girlfriend?” Sam clarifies, with raised brows. “Of six months.”

“Yeah, that one,” Dean quips, with all due sarcasm. “Ever since she moved in, she’s been going through everything, moving my crap every which way, making it so I can’t find a damn thing.”

Sam’s mouth edges at a smile.

“I’m tellin’ you, Sam, she’s damn near taken over,” Dean insists.

“You done?” Sam teases. Dean just leans in, like he’s about to level his brother with a secret.

“Matter of fact, she locks herself in the bathroom for like, forever. I just heard the hairdryer go on, meaning another hour at least. What the fuck is she doing in there, getting ready for prom?”

Sam finally has to chuckle. “Clearly it’s been a long time since you’ve lived with a woman, Dean.”

Dean scoffs. “Right.”

“And she’s actually been a big help in cleaning up around here,” Sam says, with a growing smirk. “Which is, quite literally, a refreshing change.”

Dean snorts at that.

“Of course, you’re happy,” he says. “A new damn dish rack turns you on.”

Sam shoots him a wan look. “The question is, are you happy?”

That manages to take Dean by surprise. He hesitates to answer…

But he’s saved when he hears someone approaching. He knows it’s you because he can smell the mix of your floral soap and coconutty shampoo; it’s a scent that often lingers on your pillow and has unconsciously infiltrated Dean’s nose.

His reply to Sam dies on his tongue when he sees you.

“Hey,” you greet both men, all bright and smiley with your hair in wild curls down your back.

A lot of the time you keep your hair straight or loose and wavy, so it’s rare for Dean to see your natural look. It’s a good one for you, he thinks. Along with those jean shorts hugging your curvy hips, and the V-neck top you’re wearing, which offers a nice peek of cleavage.

Your hand falls on his shoulder, with your thumb stroking his neck. You then brush that hand across his back as you pass by on your way to the kitchen. If possible, you’ve become even more touchy since you two got together.

Dean holds fast to your hand, stopping you in your path.

“So that’s what you were working on in there,” he remarks. “Thought I was gonna need to break out the fire extinguisher.”

You grin in amusement and do a little twirl under his hand, shaking out your curls a little.

“You like?” you ask. Dean tugs you back over. He reaches out and fingers at the soft ends of your hair.

“Beautiful,” he says.

“Looks real nice,” Sam adds.

“Why, thank you.” Your smile is contagious, and Dean can’t help reciprocating. You drop a hand on his shoulder again.

“I know you’re our resident Gordon Ramsay, but I kinda feel like cooking today,” you say. “Is Cas coming home anytime soon?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, he called this morning. Probably dropping back in tonight.”

You nod. “Good! I’ll make plenty then…oh, wait, he doesn’t eat.”

“What did you have in mind?” Sam asks.

“Well, I know you guys haven’t had much Cuban food, so I thought you might like to try some ropa vieja,” you reply. Sam’s brows knit together.

“Old clothes?” he translates. His two years of high school Spanish can give him that much.

“Yeah! But it’s basically shredded beef with onions, garlic, tomato sauce, and a bunch of other good stuff,” you explain. Then your eyes brighten. “Oh! And I can make my grandma’s famous black beans, white rice, some bread with crushed garlic and olive oil…”

By the time you finish listing the things you plan on making, Dean is already salivating.

Later that evening, when Dean actually gets to sample said food, he’s eaten enough for three men in the span of forty-five minutes.

“Jesus, man. Going for a record on indigestion?” Sam cautions him, despite his amusement.

Dean pointedly ignores his brother to look over at you. After he swallows another forkful of beef stew, he says, “Not for nothin’, this is probably the second-best meal of my entire life.”

“Oh, yeah?” You giggle. “What’s number one?”

“Diner called Slammies in Alabama. Best fucking pie on Earth,” he easily recalls. “Double applewood bacon cheeseburger, chili cheese fries, brick oven pizza. Bar none.”

Sam inclines his head, remembering the food coma he and Dean had that night. They’d hit the rock-hard pillows at the motel and slept like they’d been on an all-night bender.

“But this is like, right there,” Dean says to you, leveling his hand up by his head.

“Well, let’s see if this moves the needle,” you reply as you get up from your seat. You answer the question in his eyes. “Forgot something, hold on.”

But before you can leave the table, Dean reaches over and takes your hand.

“Thanks, sweetheart. For all of this. I mean it,” he says.

A soft, genuine smile grows across your face. You lean down and press a tender kiss below his hairline, stroking his cheek before you go.

Dean quirks a smile. It’s taken him time to get used to how open you are with your affections, but he likes it. All of it. Every time you reach for him, touch him, brush against him, intentionally or not. He always has.

Though he has to resist embarrassment when he notices the way his brother is watching him. Sam raises a brow, smiling that irritating smile of his.

“Oh, yeah. You’re not happy at all,” he intones.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Dean says defensively. But he perks up when you return. Maybe you’re bringing more garlic bread.

Instead, you’re holding a tin pan.

“What’cha got there?” he asks.

“Dessert,” you announce. It’s a Cuban flan: creamy, rich custard with a consistency smoother than cheesecake, and thicker than pudding.

You haven’t even sat back down yet when Dean carves himself a generous slice. He moans when a large forkful melts in his mouth. You start to blush as you watch him with crossed arms and a hand over your smile. You don’t know whether to be amused or flattered.

Sam watches his brother stuff his face with a subtle shake of his head.

“You’re enabling him,” he tells you. You shrug, but then you rest your hands on both Sam and Dean’s shoulders.

“Now I have someone to cook for,” you say. You have tears in your eyes, but you quickly blink and try to turn away. Frowning, Dean takes your hand.

“Hey, where you going?” he says, and aims to pull you into his lap. You hesitate, knowing you’re not going to be able to squeeze between him and the table.

“It’s okay, these hips don’t fit,” you chuckle wryly, with a sniffle. But Dean just backs his chair up from the table a bit to make room.

“What’re you talking about? You fit right here,” he says firmly, and he tugs you down. This is the one thing Dean has tried his damndest to break you out of—that self-deprecating streak of yours.

You finally accept being guided into his lap, where you indeed fit snugly across his thighs. His arm comes around the front to hold you close by your hip, while his other hand rests comfortingly on your back.

Looking up into his eyes, you draw enough courage to be honest.

“I was mostly raised by my grandma,” you begin to explain. Your father wasn’t ready to be one, and so wasn’t in the picture. Your mother died when you were in high school. So when your grandmother also passed away a few years ago…

Well, you’ve been alone for a while.

You sniff and wipe at your face, but your eyes close as Dean’s lips press above your brow. When you next open your eyes and cautiously look between the brothers, Sam’s sympathy warms you.

“If it isn’t obvious, you have a home here,” he says. “We can never replace what you’ve lost, but…we’re your family too.”

You know that Dean feels the same way by the way he brushes the tears from your cheek, thumbing at your bottom lip.

"You're right where you need to be," he says, with a hand squeezing your hip. His sincerity is in his even tone, in the firmness in his eyes.

You’re able to smile a bit.

“Ah…I’m interrupting, aren’t I?”

The three of you turn to the kitchen doorway, where Castiel stands awkwardly. He clearly senses emotional tension, but it breaks the moment you turn to him with a tearful laugh.

“Hey, Cas. Have you ever eaten ‘old clothes?’” you ask.

His puzzled expression is absolutely priceless.

When Sam finds a possible hunt in Hope, Indiana, Castiel agrees to go with you all. It’s a small, corn-fed town in the middle of nowhere, and five people have gone missing over the course of a year.

The latest is a nine-year-old kid named Andy Campbell. That alone upsets you; if you have one weakness, it’s for kids.

“Local farmers have been reporting dead cattle too, drained of blood,” Sam says from the passenger seat in the Impala. “I’m thinking vampires trying to keep a low profile.”

“Sounds about right, if a bit sloppy,” Dean remarks. They are in the Midwest though. If this is a coven, or even a rogue vamp who’s been here a while, maybe they got lazy. “So what, police station first? Get any details they might’ve missed.”

“I want to talk to the kid’s mom,” you say. It earns Dean’s gaze at you in the rearview mirror. “We can get the last time she saw him, where he went missing, anything she might’ve held back from the police.”

He nods and shares a glance with Sam. “I’ll go with her. You and Cas scope out the station.”

The angel has gotten better at pretending to be a Fed, but not by much. Sam agrees, even though Dean sees in his face that he’d rather be taking his brother. Dean tempers a smile and keeps driving to the closest motel in this dusty town.

You don a sensible pantsuit to match Dean’s Fed suit, along with your badges: Agents Buckingham and Nicks.

When Andy’s mom, Rachel Campbell, opens the door of her modest home to you and Dean, he lets you take the lead. You’re good at this part, connecting with the victims and getting them to talk. He sometimes worries about you though—that your soft, sympathetic heart will get the best of you.

“How long has Andy been missing?” you ask, accepting a cup of tea from the woman.

Rachel is around your age, maybe a few years older. She looks run down, a shell of a human as she looks at the carpet rather than at you or Dean. You can’t know exactly how she feels, but you have a vivid imagination.

And from the various pictures of her and Andy on the wall, just the two of them, you deduce that she’s a single mother. Just like your mom had been.

“Almost four months,” she admits. “The police station doesn’t even return my calls anymore.”

That upsets you, but you keep a lid on your emotions to focus on the woman in front of you.

“Andy’s father, he’s not around?” Dean asks. Rachel shakes her head, confirming your suspicions.

“No, we split up shortly after he was born,” she replies, her tone tired and resigned. “I was at work. I uh, I work at a doctor’s office. Andy was supposed to come home on the bus, like any other day…but he never did.”

She sucks in a shaky breath as the beginnings of tears make her eyes red and glassy.

“His school couldn’t tell me why he wasn’t on the bus. But one of his friends said he was late getting out of class, so he must’ve tried to walk home. Even though he knew he could call me when that happens…anyway, somebody must’ve grabbed him.”

Rachel looks away as a tear streams down her cheek, followed by another. You feel your throat tighten with a sympathetic burn behind your eyes, but you keep it at bay long enough to set down your tea. You reach out and lay a hand on the woman’s hand. She meets your steady gaze.

“I promise, we’ll find your son,” you tell her.

“What?” you ask Dean as the two of you leave the small house, walking back to the Impala in the driveway. You just know there’s something up with him by the stoic look on his face. It isn’t so stoic to you.

He waits until the two of you are in the car before he levels you with a raised brow.

“Look, I know you want to find this kid. I do too,” he says. “But watch out about making promises you can’t keep.”

You frown back at him. “What’s better, letting that poor woman have no hope at all?”

In his mind, Dean thinks it’s worse to give her false hope. But he sees how stubborn you’re getting, so he doesn’t push it. The fact that you care about people like Rachel is part of what drew him to you in the first place, but there’s a line, he thinks. A point where you can care too much.

When you two eventually meet up with Sam and Castiel, they’ve been able to confirm from the body of a recent Jane Doe, with a row of lethal bite marks on her wrist, that this is definitely a vamp case.

After narrowing down where each of the victims were taken, the four of you sketch out a perimeter of where the monsters could likely be hiding. It’s Dean who finds the old barn on the verge of a corn field, about three miles away from the school where Andy was taken.

You all wait until high noon the next day to scope it out. Looking into the front windows is useless; all evidence points to an empty home.

The back of the barn is another story. Cracking the barn door open reveals a large storage area, where a nest of vampires are sleeping in their beds. Some are coupled off, but you note a few on single beds.

Then, your eyes narrow on the humans sleeping piled together in the corner—three women, a young man, and Andy Campbell on a twin-sized bed of his own.

Dean carefully closes the barn door, and the four of you regroup back to the Impala.

“It’s a bigger nest than we thought,” Sam says, though he keeps his voice quiet. Dean is already opening the trunk for his favorite machete.

“First, let’s get those humans out,” he says. You agree with a nod when he hands you a weapon.

Dean shoots you a wink. “This one’s Brenda.”

“What happened to Lucille?” you ask, taking the knife from him.

“That’s the bat wrapped in barbed wire. Matter of fact, I should break her out.”

Dean reaches into the trunk and pulls out the blood-stained bat. He rubs the handle fondly.

“Ahh, Dad loved this thing.”

You sidle up next to him and glance over wryly. “You want some alone time with your big stick, there?”

Dean flashes you a smirk, giving you a long once over in your form-fitting shirt and jeans. “Well, you’re certainly welcome to join me, sweetheart.”

You snort in response, bumping into his side with your hip. Dean teasingly bounces one of your curls in your face. You smile and swat his hand away.

Sam subtly rolls his eyes, despite a small smile as he shares a look with Cas.

“All right. Can we go, please?” Sam says in amusement. Castiel awkwardly straps on a machete to his belt. He doesn’t believe he’ll need it, but Sam and Dean are always prepared. He wants to be as well.

You’re ready to go, but Dean holds you back by your shoulder. You look up at him curiously.

“Hey, follow our lead on this one, okay?” he asks.

You sense that he’s hedging at something more specific with that request.

“What do you mean?”

“The kid. I know you wanna beeline for him the second we get in there, but hold off,” Dean says. His gaze is serious. “He could be turned.”

He got a good look inside, the same as you. The kid was lying on a bed while the other humans were chained up on the floor. Still, you shoot him an incredulous look.

“Why would they turn a kid?” you ask. “They have the others.”

“Yeah, and they were chained up. Why not him?” Dean asks, imploring you to think logically. He shares a look with Sam, who silently agrees. You look between the brothers with pursed lips.

“Maybe they don’t give a fuck, because they’re cocky assholes,” you retort. And you walk past them to head back towards the barn.

The brothers and the angel share one last look, with Dean letting out a subtle breath before he follows you.

You creep back into the barn, as quiet as possible through the room of snoring vampires. The brothers and Castiel go to the sleepy women in the corner. They look dirty and malnourished, wearing threadbare clothing. Sam feels the pulse of the man prone on the floor, but he’s already dead.

When one of the girls wakes with a whimper, Dean holds his finger to his lips, warning them all wordlessly to be quiet. He looks over and doesn’t find you next to him. He nearly curses out loud when he sees you heading for Andy’s bed across the room.

Meanwhile, you touch the little boy’s shoulder and shake him a little. He wakes with a small sound of reluctance, but you shush him gently.

“Andy?” You grasp his shoulders. He nods, though his blonde brows are furrowed with confusion.

“Who…who are you?” he asks. He rubs at his sleepy brown eyes.

“I’m here to help,” you reply in a whisper. “I’m going to get you back to your mom, okay?”

After a moment, he nods and lets you pick him up into your arms. You hazard looking over across the room, and you find Dean’s annoyed gaze. Despite the uncomfortable churning in your belly, you ignore him for now and head for the back door.

You’re only able to take a few steps when you feel a hand wrap tightly in your hair and pull it away from your neck, just for rows of several razor-sharp teeth to sink into your neck.

AN: 😬 ...Sorry. If you don't know me by now, I love a cliffhanger. But how'd you like Dean getting used to sharing his space? (And having someone to occasionally put him on his toes.)

Part 2 will feature a good old fashioned "you should've listened to me" fight, some angst, some making up, some salsa dancing, and a healthy dose of smutty smut.

Next Time:

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms.

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely.

You truly become incensed at that.

Keep Reading: PART 2

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