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1001 Lonely Nights	By : TheGreatWicked Category: Supernatural > Het - Male/Female Views: 581 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Supernatural fandom, nor any characters contained, these stories are purely for my own enjoyment and I receive no monetary gain, only my readers affections.

Chapter List
- 1-Skin
- 1
1001 Lonely Nights
GW

A Sam and Dean Winchester original character series. Just a collection of one shots staring Sam/OFC and Dean/OFC and maybe some of your OCs as well! But how? Read more to find out!
Fanfiction can be hard to write. It takes time and sometimes your creative well runs dry, this is one of the reasons I love a good one shot. That’s not to say I don’t love a good slow burn just sometimes I don’t have the patience for it. I have hundreds of ideas but nothing beyond one shots in my head sometimes and I just want to read a particular scenario, not a rewritten series to suit my OC need.
So, if you would like to see an OC you have rolling around in your head featured in a one shot then all you have to do is the following: leave a review of each chapter and a quick comment on an idea for a one shot. Keep it short and sweet but give me a character name, brief description and a quick plot. I will go through the comments and choose that one shot idea that I think would be fun and I will write a chapter and I will list you in its summary! Easy, right? Just do a me a solid and leave a good review with some depth as opposed to a few words on the chapter and a paragraph on your idea. I will not be writing extensively on characters with explicit sexual trauma as a character building device, if you have a specific episode idea for your character then list it in the comments. Who knows how many chapters I will end up writing for this thing, and I may even adapt the Lonely Nights series to other TV shows, movies, comics, games etc, I’m not really into anime but it’s not out of the question, so feel free to leave suggestions for those categories too. Thanks for playing and read and review!
Also, these chapters will be fairly long ones and time and dialogue will be shifted around a little bit and as some chapters will take place before, during or towards the end of some episodes some scenes and dialogue will be cut entirely as we all know mostly what happens and you’re not really here to read a word by word rewrite of an episode as these are intended to be one shots, albeit some very long one shots. So if you notice any discrepancies then just roll with it.

Skin
Time is not your friend when you’re being held somewhere you don’t want to be. It either slows to a torturous, both literally and figuratively crawl or it disappears entirely. Captors don’t usually keep clocks handy as depriving you of any sense of time can go a long way as to obtaining information they want, if that’s the goal. However, in this particular scenario that lack of a clock wasn’t on purpose as the circumstances that lead to Charlotte’s captivity had very little to do with planning and had in fact more to do with sheer dumb luck, but not on her part. The shifter had gotten the better of her and sometimes, no matter how much experience you have on the hunt, what you’re hunting can be better than you or just plain luckier than you and it was always the toss of a coin that made that determination.
Of course a shapeshifter could take the form of whatever or whoever it wanted, she just hadn’t expected it to take Deans, there was every chance that it was just as surprised to see her as she was to see it in Deans form. But shock on both of their parts quickly fell away, although the shifters fell away a little faster than hers and it quickly got the better of her. Shifters of course, not only could take the form of whatever they wanted but they also had an annoying penchant for taking on said forms strengths, weaknesses and possibly most dangerous of all, it’s memories and that made it difficult to determine who or what you were dealing with. So, while she was looking at Deans rugged handsome face, seeing for an instant a friend, it looked at her and saw only prey, prey that Dean Winchester just happened to desire.
The fight was rather one sided, much to Charlotte’s irritation, she was fast and despite the fact that she was a woman, she was no pushover, she still had little in her corner when it came to an advantage against Deans superior strength. How much of it was Dean’s strength and how much was the shifters, she wasn’t sure but a kick to the chest sent her flying backwards against a painfully cold brick wall knocking the wind out of her and then something hard against her temple and everything went black, cold and wet.
Even if the blow hadn’t knocked her out the disorientation would have made her completely defenseless, double vision, ringing in the ears and head pain in general was hard to combat even in fight or flight. And it was pain and an irritating tinnitus that gradually pulled her form unconsciousness. Once the tinnitus slipped away there was only a dull pain on her left temple from whatever had hit her to contend with and it hurt like hell. The dull ache in her arms registered next, they were suspended over her head and her feet barely touched the ground, she had no idea how much time had passed, as the shifter wasn’t kind enough to provide her with a clock to check. In fact, she was still in the damp, dark tunnels of the sewer she had entered however long ago, her clothes a bit damp from god knew what was on the ground and her jacket was gone allowing a chill to creep up her spine. It was cold and something wet was on her head, she couldn’t see what it was but the irony smell left no doubt, it was blood, her blood and it had trickled down her face and neck, and beginning to soak into the collar of her black t shirt. Panic always sets in like an icy stabbing sensation, restrained, injured, vulnerable and from what she could tell, alone. Whatever was binding her hands was digging into the skin and it should have hurt but her body was only registering the most extreme pain which at the moment was her shoulders from being suspended. Her feet were able to find purchase on the ground and relieve some of the ache but not all of it, some was better than none as this particular style of restraint would cause a person to slip into unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. It had to be some type of cable that suspended her from what looked like a water pipe above her head but it was too dark to tell. There were no other sounds aside from the occasional dripping water, the scuffing of her feet and the occasional grunt as she tried to free herself.
That was when she smelled it. That smell. That god awful smell of decay, blood, puss and rot, it was very close, earlier it wasn’t as pungent but now it was almost unbearable, searching the room she quickly found the source, a pile of viscuous material on the floor. Skin, blood, hair, teeth and whatever else a shifter shedded when they changed their form. It was feet away from her and almost gag inducing.
“Holy God.” She muttered crinkling up her nose trying to stem the smell.
“Not here.” Came a voice from the darkness, a very familiar voice. She jerked her attention from the pile of viscous material to the source, out from the shadows stepped a familiar face, Dean Winchester, only it wasn’t Dean Winchester and this time she knew it. It was his face but the eyes were unmistakable, inhuman… Cold and having a similar quality that a cats eyes did when they reflected light in the darkness. “No God here, sweet cheeks.” The voice was cold and detached and very unlike Dean, his voice was always warm and usually had an undertone of either humor or anger, not this, this voice sent chills and it was just wrong.
The scraping sound of her boots went away as she stilled, watching the shifter, it seemed so wrong of it to have Deans face. Her breathing was slightly panicked but she hid it rather well, this wasn’t the first time she found herself in a dangerous spot, she was a hunter after all. The shifter approached with those eyes locked on hers, the scariest things in the supernatural world as far as Charlotte was concerned were the ones with strange eyes.
“Caught you off guard earlier, didn’t I?” It taunted as it stepped closer, the very temperature seemed to change and grow colder, not unlike when spirits were near. “Guess I picked the right face for that.”
“Didn’t fool me for long.” She knew it almost right away but was still a few seconds too late, and the shifter knew it too, along with whatever else Dean knew. “It’s the eyes that give you away.”
A grin spread across it’s face that would almost be charming if it wasn’t marred by something so sinister “Yeah… These eyes, they make most people nervous. Do they make you nervous?” She scoffed lightly, not wanting to let on that yes, they did in fact creep her the hell out, it now stood directly in front of her, less than half a foot away, it didn’t smell like Dean either, that bothered her too. “Liar… Liar...” It taunted again, voice dropping a little lower. “You hate looking at my eyes almost as much as you hate looking at me right now. I wonder why that is…”
She knew what it was asking, but never being one to miss an opportunity to cause a blow to the ego, she didn’t bother resisting. “Because the eyes are a window into the soul, and you have no soul.”
That almost charming grin suddenly turned menacing and it's lips curled into a snarl, she’d hit a nerve. A few seconds ticked by for her to enjoy the wounded look it had before a flash moved at her side landing two hard punches to her ribs and stomach. Knocking the wind out of her, she coughed and sputtered, clawing desperately for air while trying to take the pain, probably a cracked rib maybe. The shifter seized her neck, forcing her to look up at it as it stood almost a head taller than her.
“Is that funny to you?” It snarled, “That I exist only for your kind to hunt me down, simply because I don’t have a soul? What kind of a sick joke is that?” She’d hit a raw nerve and she knew it.
“It’s your lack of a conscience and empathy that leads us to hunt you down, not your lack of a soul.” Her voice was hoarse, expecting more punishment but she was both relieved and concerned when the snarl faded and that smile returned to it’s face. It’s grip on her neck relaxed but enough remained that he could hurt her, just a little squeeze, that’s all it would take.
“We’re getting off the subject.” It brushed her loose hair out of the way and one index finger followed the trail of blood that was beginning to dry down her neck, coming to rest on the hem of her neckline “You don’t like me wearing Dean Winchesters face. Or his body.” It stepped a little closer, a breath away now, giving her a contemplative look, as if it were changing its mind about something. It's finger tugged on the neckline of her shirt and he peered down with a grin, "Very nice." It released her shirt and it's fingers crept lower, sweeping over her breast, giving it an uncomfortable squeeze “I can see it now.” The shifter mused, thumb brushing her the fabric that covered her other breast. “I can see what he likes you about.” Her eyes narrowed, not sure what it was getting at, it’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah, I can see it now. No wonder he wants to fuck you raw, with a body like this." It leaned in to whisper against the shell of her ear. "You want to know what Dean thinks of you?" It paused, its other hand pressing her body into his and holding her in place by the curve of her hips, she could feel his hard body but no real warmth. “I can tell you his deepest darkest thoughts…” It moved behind her continuing to speak hands continuing to drag along her body. “His fears.” Fingers gripped her hips from behind, pushing the hem of her shirt up to reveal taught flesh. “And every kinky thought he’s ever had about you, and theres a lot of them.” Fingers digging into her skin to the point of pain now, she didn’t like what it was saying, or where this conversation, if you could call it that, was going. “He’s got quite a bit of spank bank material and its all about you, Charlie.” Charlie, Dean never called her Charlie, only Sam did. She swallowed hard, trying to maintain an air of cool and unaffected, but everything the shifter said and everytime ti touched her she felt her skin crawl. "He likes these in particuar," It's hands roamed over the curve of her hips now kneading softly, probably like the real Dean would. A slimy wet sensation against the skin of her neck made her want to retch, the shifter stuck its tongue out against her neck licking at the blood lapping at it all teh way up to her ear. “You know, I was just gonna kill you, but now…” She could feel it smile against her skin. “I have a better idea.” Crap. “First I’m gonna kill little Sammy because I know you and Dean love him and then I’m gonna let him watch.” It spoke against her ear again, fingers leaving bruises now against her hips. "I'll let Dean watch as I fillet the woman of his dreams" It chuckled “And I’ll wear his face and we’ll have some fun together. And then, then I’ll kill him so you can watch him die then I’ll kill you. Nice and slow, like I did the others.”
***
Sam forced his eyes open, shit, his head hurt, but then again a high five form a tire iron will do that to you. Trying to get up but finding he couldn’t he looked around and saw he was somewhere else now. Underground, near water for sure, and he was wrapped up in ropes against a steel beam of some kind, where the hell was he? The sewers, judging by the smell but then again sewers, from his questionable experience shouldn’t smell like decay. The fact that he had experience in what sewers smelled like bothered him almost more than being tied up in one. The light was dim and came mostly from candles set atop some old crates, there was nothing else he could make out that could tell him where he was with any certainly but all thoughts of assessing his situation quickly died away and his blood went ice cold in his veins when he locked onto a suspended form in the corner of the open space. Dark brown hair messy around its head, hands bound overhead and head dropped in unconsciousness, the unmistakable trail of fresh blood from what he knew had to be a head wound.
“Charlotte!” He called out to the figure but it gave no response, “Charlotte! It’s me, Sam!” Still nothing. “Charlotte wake up!” But she didn’t, his struggles to break loose of his bonds renewed he pulled and twisted but nothing gave. He hadn’t seen Charlotte in at least a month, hell, he didn’t even know she was here, but he knew it was her, the Saint Christopher medal around her neck hung in perfect sight, and she never took it off. Saint Christopher was the patron saint of travelers and protection, the necklace was passed to her from her father who had died and was in the navy. He had no doubts it was Charlotte. “Charlie.” He called her name again, not really expecting her to come to, he couldn’t even tell if she as dead, but if the shifter held to its MO it likely hadn’t even gotten started on her yet.
The sound of scuffing feet in the background pulled his attention and emerging from the other side of the open space that he found himself in was Dean, only it wasn’t. It looked at him in a way that almost read surprise, as though it wanted Sam to think it was really Dean, only for a moment though, as it approached him and backhanded him so hard his head hit the steel beam behind him. He choked out “What did you do to her?”
The shifter smiled and glanced over to Charlotte, still out cold, it smiled and inhalled against the skin o fher neck, licking her. “Nothing much, yet.” It moved around the room doing, Sam wasn’t really sure what it was doing, he couldn't see much more than gathering tarps and rope and the clinking of metal tools going into a bag. “But hey, she’ll wake up eventually and until I gut you and that brother of yours, you’ll have some company.” It walked away from Sam and towards Charlotte, pulling out a piece of duct tape and placing it over her mouth. “I did damage her a little bit when she got the jump on me.” It shrugged, “She’ll be fine for now.”
Sam believed the shifter for the moment, it wasn’t really interested in Charlotte, his next concern was Dean. “Where’s Dean?”
“I’d worry about you.” It didn’t seem concerned at all about Sam, completely confident in the advantage it had.
“Where is he?” Sam wasn’t swayed.
“You don’t really want to know.” A muffled groan came from Charlotte and both of their attentions had shifted, “Hold that thought.” It walked over to Charlotte and pulled out a large hunting knife and Sams struggles to get loose began anew.
“Get away form her!”
The shifter held up a finger to its lips and mouthed a ‘shh’ as it reached up and sliced through the rope that had bound Charlottes hands and she collapsed into it’s arms. “You’ll wake her up, baby doll is going to need her rest for what I've got planned.” It whispered keeping the knife close to her neck as it hoisted her up into its arms. “Just gonna find her a more comfortable place to lie down.” It winked at Sam, Charlotte looked like a limp doll, head lolled back and Same could see the ‘damage’ the shifter had talked about, a head wound and more blood than he was comfortable with seeing on his friend.
“Don’t you dare touch her!” Sam snarled back pulling and struggling as hard as he could.
“Oh, don’t worry Sammy…” It walked closer letting him see the blood and bruises in better detail. “I will, and you’re gonna watch.” The smile disappeared and it kicked out a foot which connected with Sams jaw, knocking his head back, not knocking him out but jarring him enough that the world was fuzzy and he saw double of everything, the shifters smile reappeared as it walked around a corner with Charlotte, casting one more glare at Sam. “Be right back Sammy.”
***
Being tied up against a steel beam gave Same something more to work with than what Charlotte had, he’d managed to get the tarp that the shifter had thrown over him at least off his head and was working towards trying to saw off the ropes that bound his hands against the steel. It was a slow process but he had to get loose and he had to find Charlotte, get both of them out of there, find Dean and make a plan. His harsh movements were halted when he heard a hoarse cough come form the other end of the room, somewhere behind him although he couldn’t quite see that far.
“That better be you Sam and not that freak of nature.” Good old Dean. His dry humor was unmistakeable and Sam breathed a sigh of relief when he heard it.
“Yeah, its me.” He almost laughed as he heard another tarp fall to the ground and he heard an even more pissed off Dean begin working his own ropes against he steel. “He went to Rebecca’s.” Sam paused, “Looking like you.”
“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one.”
Sam paused. Definitely Dean.
“That’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you. He was you.” Dean paused at hearing what Sam was saying equal parts creeped out and outraged. The sound they and both been trying for was a great relief, as the rope Dean was working had finally snapped and he began shucking off the ropes.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, it’s like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.”
“You mean like the Vulcan mind-meld?”
“Yeah something like that.” Sams own binds were starting to slacken.
“Maybe that’s why he didn’t just kill us,” Dean pondered and he worked on getting to his feet. Sams heavy sigh told him there was more to it than that.
“No, he has plans for the three of us.”
“The three of us?”
Sam signed before revealing what he knew would piss off Dean like nothing else. “It’s got Charlotte.” Dean instantly stilled and as Sams expected, his tone grew more angered.
“The hell do you mean it has Charlotte?”
“She must have been hunting it, but when I came to I saw her. Knocked out, beaten up. It took her somewhere else and said something about plans.”
Deans blood heated to a boil but couldn’t dwell on that if he wanted to form any kind of plan, he had to distance himself from what was happening and gnawing at his conscience. Of course he wanted to find Charlotte and get her somewhere safe but if he worried about her for even a minute he’d be no use to anyone. “Maybe, it needs to keep me alive — A psychic connection.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Sam grunted as Dean approached and began helping him pull at the ropes. “We need to hurry and find Charlotte.”
“We need to get to Rebeca’s.” Sams look of shock and concern registered on his face.
“What about Charlotte?”
“As long as it’s headed for Rebecca’s, Charlotte’s safe. She can handle herself, Rebeeca can’t.” Sam understood Deans logic and to some degree he wasn’t entirely incorrect but it just felt wrong to bolt knowing Charlotte was there somewhere. All the same Sam nodded and they took off to find an exit, Sam hoping that he wasn’t wrong for trusting the faith his brother was putting in Charlotte.
***
Charlotte’s eyes bolted open and she was relived to find that she wasn’t in excruciating pain, nor was she suspended in the air, she was on the ground. Hands now bound with duct tape behind her back and more tape around her feet and there was tape over her mouth, rude. She was on her side on what had to have been the most disgusting bed she’s ever seen, and the sudden need for a scalding hot shower came over her, but later. She was finally in a position to do something about her restraints, thank god. Why criminals and shapeshifters thought keeping someones hand behind their back was a solid move was something of a mystery as it was just plain dumb. Charlotte’s leather belt held more than a few secrets as directly behind it, hidden against the leather was a razor blade. A smile of relief washed over her face when she felt the familiar cold metal underneath her fingertips, it was glued in place so it took a few moments of fiddling with it and her thankfully long nails to pry it loose to where she could use it to start sawing at the duct tape.
Finally a break, literally and figuratively as the blade made quick work of the tape, a sigh of relief as her hands were finally freed and she pulled the tape from her mouth at least thankful that the tape prevented her lips from coming into contact with the mattress. The urge for a hot shower intensified as she took in more of her surroundings while she worked int he tape at her feet. The room she was in was much smaller than before, it was probably off a utility corridor and all it had was a mattress on the ground stained with only god knew what. There were cans and bottles strewn around, food wrappers that smelled like they had been there for weeks but to be honest she preferred the smell of rotting fast food over the smell of the shifters discarded skin. There were a few candles lit in what she hoped was the need for light and not meant for mood lighting, a shudder ran through her as she got to her feet and looked for something other than a razorblade to use but the room sadly didn’t hold much.
It was a good thing that rats didn’t bother her because they scurried across the floor in plain sight, she supposed any other woman would have shrieked but she knew that if she followed them she’d find one of two things, food or an exit. She hoped for the exit. Looking around outside the room she tried to find her way back to the room she was in initially a it had a litany of objects that could be used as weapons, hell, maybe her revolver was still there. Then she would hope for an exit, she had to find Sam and the real Dean.
She hadn’t gone more than a hundred feet when the rats scurrying intensified and she heard the sound of shuffling and grunting became louder. Ducking behind some pipes and looking out into an arched doorway she could see something was standing in it and from the haircut and form it looked like Dean but instinct told her it wasn’t. It looked wounded and tired, maybe Sam and Dean had found it first. As it staggered into a better view, to her horror it began too shed it’s clothes and then its skin.
The sound of bones cracking was a sound she didn’t particularly like and she silently winced as the show continued, there were accompanying wet sounds like fluids hitting hte ground, dripping into puddles, each was worst than the last. The shifter collapsed to the ground contorting into a profile of what had to have been sheer agony. The sounds of small things hitting the ground didn’t go amiss and after a moment of what she was watching she realized they were teeth, she’d never given much thought to what a shifter went through in the midst of a changing but now that she was watching it it had to have been painful as hell but after what it had planned she couldn’t say she felt much pity.
The sound of flaps of skin tearing and falling to the ground was sickening, blood was dripping freely and clumps of hair fell out as the shifter made it’s awkward way down the corridor, seeming to not notice her. It disappeared. Charlotte sat glued to her hiding place for at the longest minutes of her life, again, she had no idea how long she sat there but in the darkness she strained her ears for anything, any sound, any sign of life and after a moment she heard one but it came from the opposite end of the room here the shifter had come from. Moving quickly to the jacket it had discarded when it entered the sewers main room she found a hunting knife and breathed a minor sigh of relief, although unless the knife was pure silver, it wouldn’t be much help. Still, better than nothing. There was a shuffling sound nearby and when she looked to the source she found what had to be a human figure under a tarp, she glanced around the room searching for any sign of the shifter but it remained still, she pulled it off and found a very disheveled woman with blond hair tied up and looking like hell.
“Shit.” She looked like she’d been dragged by her hair and terror shimmered in her eyes. She knew the woman from the news, Rebecca something or other she was the sister of the suspected murderer who she now knew to be the shifter. Before the woman could utter a word, Charlotte clamped her hand down over her mouth and drew her finger to her lips, she whispered close to her brandishing the knife. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re Rebecca, right?” The woman nodded furiously. “I’m Charlotte, I’m hunting the thing that took you and we need to get out of here. I’m going to take my hand off your mouth and I need you to not scream, ok?” She nodded again, slowly Charlotte drew away her hand and was about to slice the ropes when more sounds reached their ears and both women froze. “Shh. Stay quiet, I’ll be right back.” Charlotte threw the tarp over her head again and hid looking out for the source of the sound.
Foot steps echoing drew closer, but they were calm and measured steps, not shuffling or stumbling like something in pain. Could the shifter have finished changing? Was it still here? Did it notice she was missing? She didn’t know but she was able to see the ground and a pair of boots enter the room and draw closer. A flashlight also lit up the room, it shone on what looked like an alter with candles lit, small objects probably from past kills were illuminated, trophies and the figure wielding the flashlight drew closer. It approached their location and as it flashed the light over Rebecca’s trembling form Charlotte struck. She launched herself out with the knife and enough force to knock over the figure who looked like Dean, skepticism colored her face as she held the knife to his throat.
“Charlotte! You’re ok!” He breathed, she hesitated for a minute and looked hard at his eyes, there was warmth in them and something else she couldn’t explain but her instincts told her it was the real Dean, he had called her Charlotte and not Charlie.
“Dean.” She breathed before letting up and withdrawing the knife from his throat allowing him to get up.
He looked at the knife and back to her, “Really a regular knife? You know they don’t kill shifters.”
“Oh, I know but they’ll still hurt like hell. Besides, it took my gun.”
There was a whimper from the corner, and they both turned to Rebecca, uncovering her again she looked both relieved and terrified at her and Dean, she suspected the shifter in Deans form had paid her a visit.
“What happened?” Dean took charge quickly helping to right Rebecca and set her free with Charlotte, she sniffled and her voice trembled as she recounted what happened to her.
“I- I was just walking home and everything went white. Someone hit me over the head.” Charlotte scoffed.
“Yeah, it likes the blitz attack.” Charlotte mused helping Dean with the tape, trying to be careful as not to hurt her.
“And I wound up in here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know- - how is that even possible?”
“Ok. Ok, it’s ok.” Dean soothed in a voice that sent the utmost relief to Charlotte’s soul, that was the Dean she knew. “Come on, can you walk?” Rebecca nodded “Ok, we’ve got to hurry, Sam went to see you.” Charlotte’s eyes went wide as the three of them moved to leave the sewers.
***
The hands around Sams neck grew tighter and tighter by the second, he didn’t want to believe that this was how he would die, not at the hands of someone wearing his brothers face. Not like this. Within seconds he would slip into unconsciousness and then not long after that, he’d be gone, but he refused to give up. With his strength fading, he reached up to the shifter trying to scratch, claw, jab, anything, his strikes slowed as oxygen slowed and the world around him began to grow fuzzy and fade around the edges. No.
“Hey!” A sharp voice that Sam knew so well called from the other end of the room and just for a minute the pressure eased around his neck, the shifter had a look of panic for a split second as the real Deans voice cut through the tense air. It stumbled off Sam and backwards taking careful note of the gun that Dean held steady aimed at the shifters chest, Rebecca and Charlotte hot on Deans heels, Charlotte keeping an outstretched arm in front of Rebecca as she immediately tried to go to Sams aid. It was still too close.
The shifter held a look on its face that suggested he was about to make plan or a mad dash but it didn’t get the chance, gunshots shattered the night and the muzzle flare lit up the room. The shifter took several bullets to the chest and feel backwards as the silver rounds penetrated, it hit the wall knocking a framed picture to the ground before collapsing onto an ottoman, eyes lolling in its head as the last reflective glimmer of light dimmed. Sam struggled to his feet, blood obscuring his vision slightly after their fight.
Deans face held a look of anger, contemplation, relief and caution all rolled up into one, having never killed a shifter before he kept the gun ready just in case. Silver rounds were what it took to kill a shifter but sometimes information was wrong, sometimes things weren’t what they seemed, but as the seconds ticked by and the shifter stayed still and the dust settled the occupants of the room breathed a collective sigh of relief. It was done.
Causious steps brough Dean to the shifter, now dead and took the amulet from around its neck, the one it had taken from Dean to pass itself off as him. Inside its jacket he also found a Smith & Wesson M&P Bodygaurd revolver that had to belong to Charlotte. She gripped the gun and depressed the cylinder release button with her thumb and opened the cylinder to check it, all it's rounds were still there.
It was a strange sensation looking down at himself, dead. He wasn’t sure if he should expect the shifter to turn back into what it really looked like but to be honest he was relived that it didn’t because one, he didn’t think he could stomach watching anymore bodily substances form and two with the shifter dead in Deans form it meant the manhunt for Dean would end. Hell of a way to end a hunt, looking down on your own dead body.
***
As Dean looked down a the map on the Impala’s hood trying to sort out what their next move would be, he was somewhat distracted, he’d read the names of several cities and towns multiple times before giving up pretending to read the map, just as Rebecca and Sam walked outside. Charlotte had done what she did best and made herself scarce after the shifter was killed, she wasn’t one to stick around on a good day but the complicated circumstances that surrounded the whole hunt had seen her tearing off on her motorcycle faster than usual. No playful ‘so long’ banter just her taillights fading into the distance, given what Sam had told him after the fact he knew that had been more than a few things left unsaid regarding him and Charlotte and he was certainly curious to know what the shifter had done and said.
“So, this is what you do? You and your brother, you hunt down these kinds of things?” The poor girl still seemed to be in disbelief despite what she had seen. Sam just gave her a matter of fact kind of nod before responding.
He chuckled because, what else could he do. Somedays it still sounded crazy even to him. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“I can’t believe it. I mean, I saw it with my own eyes, and…” She trailed off, it was a lot of knowledge to dump on a person and given that most people spent their whole lives thinking the things that go bump in the night were just stories, she was coping rather well. Sad thing was, she’d probably spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder wondering if what she saw was really what she saw and not something else. Dean didn’t envy that kind of revelation, it really was a sick joke that things like demons, vampires and shapeshifters existed but shit like Santa Clause the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy didn’t. Then again he wasn’t sure he wanted the tooth fairy to be real, the more he thought about it the more macabre it seemed. What kind of entity traded money for teeth, he shook the thought from his mind as Sam approached the car, having said his goodbye to Rebecca and now one more person knew the truth, knew more about the world than most people did or should. He gave Rebecca head nod in response to her wave before getting into the Impala.
So Dean was now a hunter and apparently a murderer, that thought didn’t sit well with him that his name was now sullied but on the other hand he was glad to hear that Sams innocent friend was being released soon, the guy had enough to deal with. He hoped he could find a way to move on with his life or what was left of it, at least he had his sister who never stopped believing in him. As the engine roared to life and Sam and Dean left St Louis behind them he smiled at the security of having family could bring, he glanced at Sam and was grateful it was his brother riding shotgun and not the empty air, even if he did bitch about the music.
***
That hot shower that Charlotte was craving hours earlier when she was in a sewer was well received and it soothed a lot of the aches and pains that often came with a hunt, the bruises would fade in a few weeks and the butterfly bandages on her eyebrow would hold until it healed and in time she’d be just fine. But no matter how hot the water ran it couldn’t really rinse away the feeling the shifter had left from where it touched her, not that she didn’t try, her skin had been red from how hot and long the shower ran and it wasn’t until the water started to run chilly that she admitted defeat and begrudgingly turned it off.
Charlotte was like Sam and Dean in that she favored simple and small hotels that often were fine with accepting false IDs or no IDs, preffered cash only, or would accept more cash to forget you had ever been there but after the ordeal in St Louis, Charlotte was feeling the need for a little more comfort than usual and a much nicer bed. She’d ridden for several hours north eager to put behind her the experience and put some distance between her and Dean, still uncertain of how to even approach it. She wasn’t really even sure of what it was that bothered her, nothing had really happened, she got her ass kicked a little bit and the shifter supposedly had some freaky torture play time planned but it was what it had said about Dean that weirded her out. Why was she weirded out though? Dean was a guy, guys think about sex, guys think about lots of women and sex. Nothing unnatural there, and it didn’t bother her that maybe he’d thought about her like that but neither of them had ever really acted on it, or really accepted that there was anything to act on. Christ, what was she weirded out by again? She should have said her goodbyes to Sam and Dean instead of bolting.
They weren’t really what you would call close but neither of them would even try denying that there was something between them, some spark, some something. She had met the hunting brothers maybe six months prior and the three had gotten on great and had even bumped heads a few times since, Sam always offering a happy smile and Dean always there with a quick comment on how great she looked and that he loved the kind of woman who could kick his ass even though she was pretty sure she couldn’t. Dean was like that with most women he met though, just a shameless flatterer and unstoppable flirt.
The experience with the shifter hadn’t made her look at him differently, not by any means but it was what the shifter had said about Deans inner most thoughts, those alleged thoughts didn’t bother her either but something about the experience and finding out about those thoughts in the way she did felt just wrong. Like somehow she’d been eavesdropping through a third party, either way she probably wouldn’t be seeing the brothers for a few months at best and she had time to sort out this shit and the next time she saw them if anytime soon she could either conveniently not remember anything it had said, or she could play it off and focus on whatever new case she was working on. Yes, that was it, that was exactly how she’d play it.
Combing through her damp hair working out any remaining tangles did wonders for her after being in, you know, a sewer and she felt human again. What. A. Day. She was definitely ready for bed and in the morning she’d be back out on the road on her bike, she’d received a few emails with some interesting articles about unexplained happenings in different parts of the country, people asking if she was serious in offering help with the paranormal and what she was pretty certain were a few trolls. So, she’d settle down for the night and decide on the next course of action based on what was nearby and what was most urgent. Her cell phone sat silent on the dresser and she was about to fall into bed when a knock at her door drew her from the state of calm she was in.
“Just a sec.” She called out reaching for her revolver from her rucksack and carefully approaching the door, glancing out the peephole she blinked several times, Dean? She looked again, it was still him, keeping her gun handy she cracked the door enough to glance out, the chain preventing someone from barging in right away. “What are you doing here?” She asked more than a little surprised that she was seeing him again but not only that, also that he had found her hotel room.
He glanced at the chain and then at her. “I’m good thanks.” He responded to a question that she never asked. “I’d love to come in.”
That sounded like Dean. “Hang on.” She shut the door and unfastened the chain, setting her gun on the dresser nearby before returning to the door, letting him in for a conversation she was positive she didn’t want to have. He stepped inside, sans Sam, Charlotte glanced up and down the hall looking for him but he wasn’t anywhere where to be seen.
“Sammys in our room two floors down.” Charlotte’s eyebrow raised in confusion.
“Why are you here?”
“Had me one hell of a day, I killed myself and felt the need for some slightly nicer digs than our usual crap motel.” She latched the chain again and then the deadbolt, feeling exactly how he felt, but she felt there was more to his presence than just wanting a nicer hotel for the night. “Saw your bike from the highway and decided to get some early rest.” She nodded, wondering just how casual she could keep this encounter. “And I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“I’m fine.” It wasn’t a lie, physically she was fine. Mentally, she wasn’t any worse off for the wear than usual.
“Yeah, that’s why you took off like a bat out of hell.” All humor had faded from his demeanor “You wanna tell me what you were doing in St. Louis? Or what I missed in that sewer?”
"Looking for ninja turtles." Dean didn't smile, so much for using humor to difuse “I was on a job, same as you. I was in the area and saw the news report, surveillance video didn’t sit right with me so I reached out to Noah and he suggested that I check it out, gave me a few leads.”
“And how’d that end up with you in the sewer? Sammy said that the shifter had you tied up and you took a bit of a beating.”
“Shifter surprised me, wearing your face. Can’t say I wasn’t surprised, but it was enough for him to knock me out. Woke up once, had a creepy conversation, I must have passed out again because I didn’t see Sam. When I woke up, got myself out of there, that’s when I ran into you and you know the rest.”
Dean had great instincts and intuition, his ability to read people was something Charlotte hadn’t really seen before and right now it was telling him something was just slightly off. Not that anything was wrong, not really but it didn’t let him just leave, he wanted to know more about this creepy conversation.
Dean took in the bruises and the butterfly bandages on her eyebrow and the few lacerations, pretty light in terms of scratches and scuffs but he still didn’t like them. He knew Charlotte was tough on her own but the fact that ‘He’ had done those things didn’t sit right with him, there was something he wanted to know. He had picked up the implication from Sam that the shifter had maybe some unsavory plans, aside from murder and Charlotte wasn’t really the type of woman to just come out and admit when she was hurt or when something bad happened. “Did he hurt you?”
Charlotte knew what he was asking, Dean wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t sure what had taken place while she was out, or what Sam had seen or even what the shifter had said to him. “No.” A few quiet moments passed, she nodded towards the rest of the room as standing int he entry way wasn’t very comfortable. “What did Sam tell you?”
“Said he came to and saw you tied up hands overhead and out cold. He saw blood and the shifter said he had plans for you. Didn’t elaborate much but at one point you started to come to so he cut you loose and took you somewhere else. Not long after that Sam and I got loose and went looking for it.” More silence, as Charlotte listened to events that she had no memory of, not even a dream like recollection of hearing Sams voice.
She shook her head, “Couldn’t tell you that. No memory. I woke up in what I assume was the master accommodations and I got downgraded from rope to duct tape, got my razor and managed to get loose. I made it out in time for the shifter to come back and I got to see a horror show when it started to… shed." She shuddered at the memory. "Found Rebecca not long after that and then you.”
He couldn’t dance around what he wanted to know any more, he had to ask. “What did it say to you?”
Jesus, she wished she had a beer. “Creepy shifter stuff. I’m gonna kill your friends, I’m gonna torture and kill you, etc.”
“What else?” How did he do that? “I know it said something else to you, you’ve been cold and distant since we finished this.”
“How do you do that?” She hadn’t meant to ask that aloud, but still his ability to see past bullshit was impressive. “I told me stuff about you. Said it could tell me your fears, your thoughts, stuff like that.” She left out the kinky parts.
“Sam said it sounded like it was downloading my thoughts.”
“Yeah, I talked to Noah. Apparently shifters can do that, once they take a form they have a physical connection to they have access to your thoughts, memories, things like that. So long as the original person is alive. Probably why he didn’t kill you straight away.” When she turned back around, Dean was right there.
“Anything else you want to tell me?” The way he phrased the question gave her pause, like he knew what the shifter had said. Her eyebrow quirked up, well, she may as well. The more she thought about it the less the knowledge she had bothered her and the more it began to sound funny, and she was kind of done with this whole ‘angry Dean’ thing. She scoffed lightly before meeting his gaze.
“Yeah,” She lowered her voice a bit, and she watched the uncertainty in his face gave her the final push to spill what she knew. “It told me that it knew your deepest darkest fears and inner most thoughts.” She paused, “It said you had some dirty thoughts too.” A look of shock came over him, whatever Dean expected her to say that wasn’t it. “Apparently you have a bit of spank bank material and I’m the star.” The angry Dean disappeared and stunned Dean now took his place. "Also, you like my hips" She paused. “So, did the shifter lie to me?” Dean swallowed hard and said nothing, it made her wonder what was he expecting her to say?
Charlotte waited, wanting to hear what he had to say. Stunned Dean began to fade away and another Dean she didn’t see very often appeared, serious and humorless Dean, it was a little unnerving. He took a deep breath and met Charlotte’s gaze, before replying with one word. “No.”
“Anything you wanna tell me?” She mimed his question back to him. It felt good to confront this, but she was more than a little nervous to what he would say next.
“Yeah, I wanted to tear the fuckers head off for two reasons. One for wearing my face to hurt people and two for putting its hands on you. If I’d had more bullets I’d have pumped every single one into him. Makes me wanna puke thinking of what it had planned, pisses me off that he did that to you.” His voice had started calmly enough but as he spoke it became angrier and angrier, his hands clenched into fists at his side, his shoulders tense as he looked over the finger shape bruises on her hips and his eyes grew wide in anger, he hadn’t noticed them before due to the darkness that shrouded the last 48 hours but now given the warm hotel room and the white tank top she was wearing they couldn’t be overlooked. “Is that all?”
Charlotte shrugged, “It didn’t elaborate on any of those thoughts.” Dean seemed to calm when she place her hand on his chest in a lazy fashion. “Would you like to?” The anger subsided and the corner of his mouth turned upwards as her fingers fisted the material of his shirt.
Facts were facts and the facts read simply life as a hunter was dangerous and it could be short so if there ever was a group of people who agreed with the expression ‘seize the day’ the hunter community certainly could and it carped the fuck out of that diem. Dean didn’t hesitate and he closed the distance between them and his lips crashed against her not hard and fast but firm and passionate, the stubble on his chin scratched at her skin but it felt good and her lips gave way to his, pulling on the fabric of his shirt with one hadn’t while the other slipped around his neck. Monogamy wasn’t a concept that worked for hunters, not really, Charlotte wasn’t stupid, she kew there had been women before her and there would likely be women after. Dean wasn’t her soul mate, she wasn’t even sure she believed in the concept but she had certainly wanted to fuck him and based on how he was trying to rid her of the tank top and sweatpants she was wearing the feeling was mutual. Likewise Dean had no expectations that she would wear his ring or doodle his name on a notebook, she’d be with other men but his ego would always insist that he was the best she’d ever have.
Dean kept a simple wardrobe of jeans, boots, cotton t-shirts and flannel and although Charlotte could appreciate its simplicity, she’d rather appreciate it on the floor. She clawed at the grey t-shirt and it was quickly tossed over his head then flung into some corner of the room sight unseen. With her tank top joining his own discarded shirt a moment later, their states of undress matched for a second, before Dean pushed the drab army sweatpants down her long legs and lifted her up onto the dressed allowing her legs to wrap around his wait bringing him closer.
Their lips, tongues and occasionally teeth clashed, not in a dueling fashion like the angry sex you read about but more of the so-excited coordination was a little too much to handle, kind. She was getting tired hearing their teeth click together after the third time it happened and she seized his lower lip, causing a sharp intake of breath from him and a deep groan as she slid her tongue into his mouth while one hand pressed hard against his denim clad erection, her other hand tugged at the soft sparse hair that trailed down into his pants. He groaned against her lips a muffled word that sounded like it was meant to be a breathless ‘fuck’ but it came out to muffled. Dean had always liked Charlotte, she was smart, determined, tough and rather straight forward with whatever was on her mind, being a guy, he’d often wondered what this side of her was like and he was pleased to see that it was just as straight forward as her normal self, just with more tongue, lips and legs involved. He loved the sensation of her bare legs wrapped around him, a womans smooth and soft skin against his was something of a kink for him and he had always been a legs and hips man. With one of his hands stroking its way up her thigh to grab a handful of that ass he’d often found himself staring at the other worked at the clasp on the back of her simple black bra. Lingerie was great sure, but it was meant to be savored and appreciated and while he appreciated what they were doing very much, there wasn’t much to savor about her simple black bra and panties, never the less he had wrenched his mouth way form hers to take in the sight for a moment. Charlotte, dark hair slightly tousled over one shoulder, lips slightly swollen, brown eyes hazy in lust, black bra strap slipping off one shoulder in a way that was oddly irresistible. The only part about what he was seeing that he didn’t like were the dark finger shaped bruises on her hips just above the boyshorts she wore. She met his distracted gaze before following it to see what he was stuck on.
“Take a picture Winchester, it’ll last longer.” She teased trying to lighten the mood just before grabbing at his belt buckle pulling him back to her, he was still a little distracted. “They’re just bruises, Dean.”
“I’m more irritated with the thing that put them there and-”
“Dean, you’re thinking too hard.” She punctuated the last word with a deep kiss while she worked the zipper of his jeans taking care to pull it down painfully slow before she slipped a hand inside his pants. He groaned into her mouth and thoughts of the shifter began to fade away as she pumped his cock and lust began to cloud his mind, he seemed to allow the distraction because he didn’t say another word on the subject. Charlotte was a hunter and she had probably been through worse but it was his protective nature over women that always made him look at her like a doll in need of protecting, even though she was quite capable on her own. Dean loved a strong woman and the thought of Charlotte kicking ass out there turned him the fuck on. The bruises were still there but he’d just leave marks of his own and the heavy panting from Charlotte as his mouth traveled down the hollow of her throat just spurned him on. “Dean,” She breathed in desperation as one of his hands slipped beneath the cup of her bra, exciting the flesh he found there. Charlotte had great tits and apparently was a bit sensitive as he brushed his thumb over her nipple her breath came out in a ragged breath, more so when his mouth followed.
Her legs were still loosely wrapped around his waist and he could feel her feet pushing on the waistband of his jeans and with surprising dexterity they slipped down his thighs. Fuck, this woman did things to him.
His cock was rock hard against her hand as she gave him a slow pump from base to crown rubbing her thumb over his head working the precum that had seeped out, “Fuck,” his hips bucked slightly as her grip tightened on him, “Goddamn Charlotte,” Charlotte pushed him back and slipped off the dresser and walked him awkwardly back to the bed as his pants were around his ankles before pushing him onto his back. Before he could form a sentence he felt her nails against his hips as she pulled his boxer briefs down, then taking him into her mouth. The sound that escaped Dean was primal and guttural, and while Dean was a very smart guy and a surprisingly extensive vocabulary, the only words he could manage were variations of ‘fuck’ ‘goddamn’ ‘hell’ etc. He’d allowed himself, many times to fantasize about this very act on nights when he was hard, and horny but there was no comparison when it came to his hand and some lube versus her hot mouth.
His chest rose and fell rapidly as Charlotte worked the hea dof his cock with her hot mouth and her talented tognue, he was starting to loose it and if he didn’t get himself under control soon he’d blow his load and as good as it would feel, it wasn’t what he wanted. Not entirely. Charlotte seemed to pick up on this or sucking him dry wasn’t what she had planned either because she slowed her pace and drew to a stop giving him a few parting licks. He surged forward taking her face in his hands slipping his tongue past her lips, Dean Winchester knew how to kiss and what he was doing was making Charlotte wet and wanton. “Loose the bra and panties. Need to fuck you, baby.” He muttered against her lips, that hot little tongue darted out to lick her lips and she nodded.
Dean quickly worked on his boots and pulling off his jeans and underwear tossing them aside, making sure to grab a foil packet form his back pocket. He rolled the condom on after he ripped it open with his teeth. “Planning on adding to your spank bank?” She asked, finding it interesting that he just happened to have a condom on hand, or maybe Dean simply was like a big naughty Boy Scout and was always prepared.
“Hell yeah.” He settled back onto the bed pleased to see that Charlotte also had rid herself of the simple black bra and panties and he was more than a little surprised to see a few tattoos he didn’t know about. The image of Charlotte crawling naked on the bed towards him, wow, just wow. Their lips met in a searing kiss, tongue mingling, tasting and teasing as she settled into his lap, hovering over him. “Need to fuck you baby.” He mumbled again, Charlotte nodded, somewhat surprised of the seemingly passive role Dean was taking in sex, or maybe Charlotte was reading him wrong, thinking him to be the type of guy who always took charge and like to be on top. Although as she looked down into his hazy eyes she could think of nothing sexier than his hands on her hips, eyes meeting, neither really above the other, but equals. Fuck, now that was sexy as hell.
Deans hand stroked the skin of her hips and settled on the soft curves of her ass, gripping her and guiding her to exactly where he wanted her, his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as she sank down on his hard length. Charlotte’s head lolled back and what Dean could only describe as a strangled moan escaped her lips. “Fuck!” Her chest heaved, it had been a hot minute since she’d had sex, hook up culture for hunters was easier for men rather than women and while Charlotte did just fine on her own there was no comparison to the real thing. The feeling of hot skin against hers, slick with sweat, Deans hands gripping her hips as he trust upward muttering explicatives of his own, goddamn it was amazing.
“Holy shit,” Dean had every intention of taking things slow tonight and letting Charlotte run things for a little bit but it had been a hot minute for him too and he’d forgotten just how good it felt to actually have a woman in bed as opposed to trying to keep quiet while in the shower with his brother in the next room. There was an unspoken agreement that Sam and Dean didn’t talk about what the other was doing in the shower, there was teasing later about washing Sam delicate hair and how Dean didn’t need to spend too much time or product on his but hey, they both knew what the other was doing. Fuck. Why was he thinking about what he and Sam did in the shower? Charlotte’s lips on the shell of his ear, not saying anything but just there her hot breath bringing him firmly back to the present. “Goddamn, you’re fucking tight.”
Yeah, he couldn’t maintain the original plan. Charlotte gave out a slight yelp when Dean seized her legs and lifted her enough that he could get leverage to throw her onto her back on the bed without breaking their connection. He breathed a sigh of relief when his complicated maneuver didn’t give him a broken dick. He’d seen pictures. Cringe. Charlotte’s eyes went wide and rolled to the back of her head when he thrust deeper than their previous position would allow, especially once he threw one of her legs over his shoulder. One of his favorite positions, mutually beneficial. His medallion swung in the air as he thrust forward and back, trying to go a little deeper each time even though he bottomed out with every stroke. Beads of sweat were clinging to his brow and his eyes bore into hers, the room filled with heavy panting and the temperature grew warmer.
The friction caused by their new position was sending Charlotte spiraling faster and faster towards an impending orgasm and Dean knew it, she grew tighter and higher around him and it was taking everything in him to not loose it before she did. Dean hd a reputation but he would never leave a woman unsatisfied. Still it was hard to stay in control, “You're fucking amazing Charlotte, but I’m gonna need to feel you come on my dick.” He had a devilish smile on his face and he brushed a finger against her lips which she sucked into her mouth, mimicking what she had done to his dick. God it was hot, he slowed his pace a bit to where she released his fingers in protest and he let them trail down her chest lightly toughing and stroking, occasionally pinching until they reached the apex of her thighs where they were joined slipping between them to stroke her clit. The desperate cry that wrenched itself from her lips, Dean had largely stilled his movements with the exception of the occasional slow thrust as he toyed with her, he watched as her lips trembled and her body writhed against him, she mouthed the word ‘fuck’ several times. And with each stroke of his fingers coating with slickness, he could feel her getting closer, “That’s it baby, I can feel you getting there. And it’s hot as fuck.” He worked her faster taking her mouth with his, slipping his tongue past her lips swallowing the noises she made, her hands desperately clawed at him bucking her hips trying to spur him into motion. “Not yet, not till I feel you come.”
The words were far from dirty talk but it was sensual and did just what he wanted and in an instant it snapped through her, gripping him like a vice as he felt her flutter around him. Charlotte bucked hard against him and moaned his name against his lips several times.
It took a minute or two for Charlotte to come down the the post orgasmic tremors, breath coming in short bursts, she met Deans cocky gaze as he brought his fingers to his lips sucking on at a time. “Now will you fuck me properly?”
He loved it when women talked like that, he wasn’t one for the euphemism of ‘making love’ but something about a woman using the word ‘fuck’ in reference to sex was just… hot.
“Hold tight baby, you’re still gonna be feeling me in the morning.” Dean pulled out but only for a moment before flipping Charlotte onto her stomach then back onto her hands and knees, one of his hands wrapped up in her hair. There was only a moment of hesitation on Deans part before he pushed forward filing her again. “Hard and fast, yeah?” Charlotte nodded. This time he didn’t slow his pace, he thrust furiously one hand fisted in her hair pulling her head to the side so he could lick the shell of her ear, something he figured out that she loved. All sexy playful banter from Dean had halted and was replaced by feral sounding grunts as he slammed harder against her ass with each stroke.
Charlotte couldn’t believe how quickly she was headed toward another orgasm, sex with other men hadn’t been this primal, raw, to be fair she was lucky if she got off once, but that was not the case here in this hotel room with Dean pounding into her from behind. “Fuck, Dean, I’m gonna come again!”
“Fuck yeah, you are.” His clever fingers reached around again and found her still sensitive slit and resumed stroking, featherlight touches in comparison with his hard and fast cock.
“Oh, God, Dean!” Impending orgasm number two hit her hard almost as immediately after he touched her, it ripped through her again causing her to cry out, as seconds later Dean followed driving hard once more, twice more third stroke was the charm and it took all his resolve to not collapse on top of her, crushing her.
The primal sounds that had previously filled the room died down to slowed, shallowed breathing. Dean rolled over and walked to the bathroom, presumably to dispose of the condom, a few moments later he returned to see Charlotte, combing her fingers through her sex hair now wearing his grey t shirt, post sex looked good on her. “My shirt looks good on you.”
“Nothing looks good on you.” She returned gesturing to his still very naked state as he crawled on the bed to join her sinking into her lips for a much slower heated kiss. When they pulled away he pulled her down in top of him against his chest, he arms wrapped around her and her was a low rumble in his chest of contentment. “When is Sam expecting you back?”
Dean smiled with closed eyes, hands grabbing a handful of her ass, “Sammy’s a big boy. He’ll be fine one his own for a night.”
“Planning on staying longer?”
“As long as it takes.” Charlotte lifted her head in curiosity.
“As long as what takes?”
Dean gave her that grin that Winchester men were known for, “You asked if I wanted to elaborate on my spank bank material.” A knowing look came over her face and she chuckled.
“And how long do you think that may take?”
“Could take all night.” Charlotte sucked hard on a spot on his neck, leaving a bright red mark that Sam would no doubt give him shit for the next day but he didn’t care. His dick did though. Her mouth trailed lower and lower down his chest, stopping at his hips sucking hard on the skin there.
“Guess we better get back to it.”
***
Yikes, that was long. Hope you all enjoyed this one shot of an OC I thought up a very long time ago and have simply been too lazy to write into the Supernatural series because one it just takes a long ass time to rewrite it all and two let's be honest, some of us are just here for some steamy stories with out favorite characters. I am a Dean fan most definitely but I think Sammy may get some love in my next one shot while I wait for reviews and suggestions from you guys on who gets the spotlight next. That being said, don’t forget the rules; leave me a nice review and a quick snippet on your OC, and a quick story idea, if I need more from you then I’ll message you for additional information. I MIGHT write sequels still in one shot form if the demand is great enough and I am considering adding Castiel to my list of character requests, I’m no too familiar with his character but I do know people want to see our dorky angel friend get some loving too.
GW
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1001 Lonely Nights