Chuck Shurley had no friends.

Well, he had Sam and Dean. Sort of. They said they were friends, but Chuck had a feeling they still resented him a little. Although he hadn't known they were real when he wrote Supernatural, it was definitely still awkward.

He just needed someone there. Someone who understood his visions, didn't have that annoyed tone when he got anxious, or roll their eyes when he stuttered over his words. His house was a cluttered mess. Books, papers, liquor bottles, you name it. Everything was scattered everywhere and Chuck just.. didn't have the motivation to fix it. He alternated from sitting on the couch staring blankly at Google Docs to lying in bed for days. He had no drive to eat, his body growing weary of 'quick and easy' meals and a shot of whisky on the side.

And then there was you.

You were a hunter. The Winchesters had ran into you on a routine vampire hunt in Ohio. They had concerns about angels or demons trying to use Chuck for his visions, so they'd asked you to stay with him. Like a personal bodyguard. A very kind and definitely not handsome bodyguard.