“Okay,” Sam exhaled, pulling up the files on his laptop as Dean cleaned his gun on the other side of the table, “so we got six missing persons in a year. Cops have nothing -”
“No surprise there,” Dean drawled, running the cloth over the barrel of his Colt.
Sam smirked, shaking his head at the comment. “And the only witness was the fifth victim’s mother. Who has dementia and was raving about teeth. Based on her statement, her son was eaten. Which makes sense with the blood at the crime scenes.” He turned the laptop for Dean to see a particularly gruesome crime scene photo that was mostly blood and pieces of flesh.
Dean’s eyebrows raised. “Teeth?”
“She said,” Sam leaned in closer to the laptop and it lit up his face with an eerie blue glow. “They were everywhere. The teeth ate him.” He sat back, tapping at the keyboard. “Now, the connections they found between the victims were that they were all male, aged between twenty-five and forty, and had all be seen at a bar called The Dancing Coyote, the night before they went missing.”
“So the bar is our starting point,” Dean deduced; his brother nodded in agreement. Putting his gun back together, the elder man got to his feet, cleaning away his supplies. “Well, I could use a drink, Sammy. How about you?”
The second Dean walked in, he was like a kid in Candyland. It was packed, unusual for a Wednesday night, but the appeal was right there on the bar. Four scantily clad woman danced to the classic rock playing on the jukebox, all of them looking as if they were having the time of their lives.
“Dean,” Sam hissed, tugging on his brother’s jacket. “I don’t think we’re gonna get many answers here.” Dean shrugged him off, enraptured by the women.
“What are you talkin’ about?” he jeered. “There’s a ton of…” He gestured wildly, grinning maniacally at his brother. “Information, right there.”
Sam couldn’t roll his eyes any harder as Dean headed off toward the bar, while he himself opted to hang back. Large crowds of people weren’t his favorite place to be and the music was exceptionally loud. Leaving Dean to it, he squeezed through the drunk men and women to the backdoor that led out onto a much less crowded balcony.
The only downside to the outside area was the smokers. Sam wrinkled his nose as someone puffed a cloud of fruity-smelling smoke his way - he turned, only to pick up the scent of cannabis from a portly gentleman lounging by the back door.
“Hey man,” the guy slurred, leaning toward him; Sam gave him an awkward smile and backed away quickly, heading down off of the balcony into the dropped off area behind the bar. There was less smoking here and more couples in dark corners, kissing passionately.
He kept his eyes peeled for any signs of a monster but nothing out here was out of the ordinary. One couple at the far back stirred at him drawing closer, the woman whispering “go away, perv”, which sent Sam scurrying back up the steps.
And straight into a tall blonde woman, who smirked at him in amusement.
“Sorry!” he yelped, holding his hands up as his hair fell in his eyes. The woman giggled, giving him an appreciative once over.
“You runnin’ from a lady down there?” she quipped, leaning herself purposefully into his path. Sam shuffled from foot to foot, lifting his hands to shove them in his pockets. “Or am I free to buy you a drink?”
A smile split his face and Sam laughed nervously. “Sure. A drink sounds great.”
Dean was in heaven. Positioned at the bar, he was right between two hot chicks as they ground against each other, short skirts providing a peek of every man’s dream. He cheered when they performed a complicated dance move, shaking their thangs all over the bar.
“Man, this place is great!” he called, the guy next to him nodded enthusiastically. “You come here a lot?” Dean continued, remembering his actual reason for this. The guy looked offended and sneered, moving away as Dean frowned in confusion.
“I think he thought you were coming onto him, honey,” a distinctly feminine voice cooed and Dean turned back to the bar, coming face to face with probably the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
“What? No!” Dean chuckled sheepishly, leaning on the bartop as the woman smiled at him. “You, er, work here, huh?”
“No, I’m skimming the till,” she replied, shrugging in a way that made him wonder if she was joking. “You don’t look like one of our regulars.”
“In town on business,” he called, just as a new song started and cheers went up around the bar. One of the girls on the bar waved at the woman Dean was talking to and she grinned back.
“Give me a hand?” she asked, holding her hand out to him and Dean took it, smiling. When she pulled hard, he almost fell over, until he quickly realized her intention. She clambered on top of the bar, blowing him a kiss as she started to dance with the other women.
Slowly, he recognized the song, Devil Went Down To Georgia , although it was almost drowned out by the rauchaucious crowd. Even so, as Dean watched her, he suddenly felt like he was alone at the bar, unable to take his eyes away from her.
“Good luck, buddy,” another guy nudged him with his elbow. “That’s Y/N. You ain’t gettin’ nowhere with her.”
Dean huffed, giving the guy a leering grin, returning his attention to Y/N.
She moved like liquid fire and already he was half-hard in his pants. God, he hadn’t wanted a woman like this in what felt like forever.
Which was ringing alarms bells. Dean Winchester was old enough and experienced enough to know when something wasn’t quite right.
The song continued as he managed to tear himself away, slipping outside to find Sam talking to a blonde woman, who was hanging on his every word. “Sam!”
“Dean, hey!” Sam sat straight, gesturing to him. “Ellie, this is my brother. Dean, this is Ellie. She’s a doctor at the local hospital.” Dean made an “o” shape with his mouth before managing a smile. “Yeah, I was just explaining that we were in town for the funeral.”
“It’s so sad. Bill was such a nice guy. Shame his mom didn’t have any family left to take care of her.” Ellie reached over, touching Sam’s hand.
“Yeah, it’s awful,” Dean rushed out. “Listen, Sammy, mind if I drag you away for a minute? I have a… thing.”
“Sure,” Sam replied, getting to his feet as Ellie reached out and caught his hand.
“I’ll wait here with your drink,” she cooed and Sam smiled, nodding as he let Dean drag him away. Once they were out of earshot, Dean released his jacket, turning to him with a stern expression.
“Dean, what is it?” Sam asked impatiently.
Dean paused, giving Sam a funny look. “We’re working a case,” he said, lowering his voice, “and you’re flirting.” Sam scoffed, glancing back at Ellie, who smiled in his direction. “See? Blondie. She’s got you under a thrall or something -”
“Dean,” Sam interrupted him, “she’s an intelligent, attractive woman. And she knows a lot about this town. There’s nothing mystical there.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dean sighed. “Sirens. Succubus. Demons. This could be anything, Sammy. We gotta keep our guard up.”
Sam looked over Dean’s shoulder, able to see the bar clearly. “Which girl was it?”
“Er, the one in the sparkly red top with the amazing cans.”
“There’s two in red tops.”
“She’s got black booty shorts on and leather boots up to her thighs.”
Sam was silent for a moment, and Dean frowned. “What?”
“Dude, she’s hot.” Dean made an irritated noise as Sam chuckled. “Way outta your league, dude. As in, she’s in the Majors and you’re coaching Little League.” The younger Winchester snorted at his own analogy. “No chance.”
Dean glared at him. “I’m not the only one striking out, Sam,” he retorted, only succeeding in making Sam laugh harder. “I’m gonna tail her, see what I can find out.”
“You sure this isn’t just because you haven’t gotten any in awhile?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. “You tend to get a little… pent up.”
“You see me criticising your love life?” Dean shot back. “Go see what you can find out from Doctor Ellie. Maybe she’ll give you a oral examination.” Before Sam could come back to his remark, Dean darted off back inside, where Y/N had stopped dancing on the bar.
Shaking his head, Sam returned to Ellie’s table, smiling at her. “Sorry about that. My brother is a bit of a social… nightmare.”
Ellie laughed pleasantly, dragging her fingers over Sam’s hand. “That’s fine. What were we talking about?”
Around one in the morning, the bar started to empty out. Dean had found a table at the bar, keeping an eye on Y/N’s movements. She was aware he was watching her and he told himself it was only because she was suspicious, not because he was slowly falling into a ridiculous crush.
“You’re nearly forty,” he scolded himself when she caught his eye again. “Get a grip.”
There were only three other patrons still in the bar when Sam sauntered in with Ellie tucked under his arm. He grinned at his brother, tossing him the keys to the motel room. “Don’t wait up,” Sam jeered, jerking his head towards Y/N.
Dean scowled at him until he left, a small part of him hoping that Ellie was a monster so he could at least say ‘I told you so’.
He barely noticed Y/N approaching until she was a few feet away. She’d changed out of the booty shorts and into some jeans, but the red top clung to her curves, practically making him salivate. “You know, most ladies would find it rude for a guy to stare all night like you have been.” Leaning down, she slipped herself into the seat opposite. “But it’s hard to be mad when I can feel you undressing me with your eyes and you are very,” she walked two fingers across the table to his unfinished whiskey, grasping the glass and lifting it to her lips, “very hot.”
A blushed stained his cheeks as she smiled and sipped his drink, keeping her eyes on his. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he stuttered.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Dean,” he replied without hesitation, “you?”
“Y/N.” She placed the glass back on the table. “I’ve had a real busy night, Dean. Wanna walk me home?” Outstretching her hand, she waited only seconds before Dean was agreeing, slipping his hand into hers.
It was chilly outside and he waited for Y/N as she pulled her coat on, letting her take his arm as they walked down the street. Dean smiled when she leaned into him, her height perfect for her to rest her head on his shoulder.
“Busy night, huh?”
The attempt at conversation made her chuckle. “Five nights a week.”
“You got some moves, I’ll say that,” Dean murmured and Y/N lifted her head to look at him. “You’re a very skilled… barmaid?”
She laughed loudly, shaking out her hair. “Very skilled. In very particular departments.” His eyes widened and her cheeks darkened at her own innuendo. “Not like that. I’m not a… I’m not a hooker, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Dean shook his head fiercely. “No. Never.”
“You don’t strike me as the type of guy that would need to pay for it,” she commented, squeezing his arm gently as he smiled and looked down. “I’m not gonna be expecting a visit from an angry wife at any point, am I?”
“Only my brother,” he quipped, chuckling. “And he’s busy with Ellie the doctor tonight.”
“The blonde?” Y/N sniffed delicately, clearly not a fan. “I’ve seen her around. She’s fairly new to town.” Dean arched an eyebrow at that information, suddenly worried at his wish for Sam’s lady friend to be a monster. “She moved here about… six months ago? I think. I dunno. She’s always hanging around the bar.”
“And you?” Dean asked. “How long you lived here?”
“Small town, born and raised,” she replied, pointing at a small shop across the street. “And that’s my apartment.” They continued to walk in comfortable silence, reaching Y/N’s front door where they stopped and turned to face each other. “I’m pretty wired,” she murmured, running a finger down the front of his shirt. “You wanna come in and help take the edge off?”
He grinned, leaning in, brushing his knuckles against her face. “You’re not shy, huh?”
“Seize the moment,” Y/N whispered back, meeting him halfway in a kiss that heated up rapidly. She fumbled with her keys, getting the door open so they could tumble in. The steps leading up to her apartment were narrow and Dean could barely keep his hands off of her.
Making it to the top of the steps, Y/N broke away, walking backwards into the middle of her studio, crooking a finger at him. He smirked, stalking her, shedding his jacket as he went. Her boots and his were removed, tossed into a corner with their upper layers.
Her bed was surprisingly bouncy, lending to both their laughter as they landed, almost catapulting themselves right back up. Y/N grabbed his bare arms, squeezing in delight as she kissed him deeply, wrapping her legs around his waist. Dean ground his crotch against hers, kissing down her throat and across the swell of her breasts over the cups of her bra.
“Pants off,” she gasped and Dean growled, reluctantly pulling himself away. His hands dropped to her pants, not his, and he grinned.
“That sounds like a great idea.” The button on her pants came undone easily and she released her grip on his waist, planting her feet on the bed and lifting her butt so Dean could pull her pants down. Underneath the denim, she was wearing only a tiny black thong and Dean groaned, his cock pulsing in his pants. Y/N moved to take the panties off but Dean stopped her. “Leave them on.”
She smiled, releasing the cotton from between her fingers, locking her eyes on his. “Yes, sir,” she purred, pulling him back down for another kiss. His distraction gave her time to slip her fingers into his pants, using one hand to unfasten them as the other encircled his cock, pumping him slowly.
Dean cursed, kissing her again, rocking into her hand when she pulled him free. Her thumb swiped over the tip of his cock, smearing precum over his skin and Dean growled in her mouth.
“I’m not much for the preshow,” Y/N whispered, sliding her lips to his ear, tugging on it gently with her teeth; Dean groaned and thrust into her hand. “I just want you inside me.”
“I could be a serial killer,” he warned, smirking as he pulled back.
“Nah,” she giggled, “you don’t strike me as the type.”
“What type do I strike you as?” Dean grunted, lowering his mouth to her tits, using his teeth to drag the cups down. Y/N whimpered when he caught one nipple between his lips, sucking at it lightly. Her fingers threaded through his hair, encouraging him when he repeated the action on her other breast.
“The hero. Knight in shining armor. Not that I need rescuing from anything.”
Oh how wrong you are, Dean thought, plastering a smile on his face. “You got any, er,” his eyes dropped down to her hand grasping his manhood, “protection?”
“There’s a .44 in my purse,” she joked, “and some condoms in the top drawer.”
Gleefully, Dean reached for the drawer, dragging out a strip of condoms and tearing one off with his teeth. Kicking his pants all the way off, and ripping the packet with little care, he rolled the condom on, stroking himself to keep his erection as he used the other hand to pluck her thong away from her pussy.
Y/N gasped, wiggling her hips a little as Dean pressed two fingers inside her, curling just right to make her squeal in surprise. His own pride in his skills made him grin again; he duplicated the move and the next squeak she made was followed by a low moan. “Fuck me,” she begged, “please.”
Dean didn’t have to be told twice and he pulled his fingers free, holding her thong to the side and using his other hand to feed his cock into her hungry cunt. Y/N whimpered as he filled her, stretching her out - her fingers clutching at his shoulders hard enough to leave nail marks in his skin. With a hiss, Dean bottomed out, holding himself against her.
She was panting now, meeting him kiss for kiss. Her legs hooked back around his waist, pulling him close, wanting him deeper and Dean obliged, starting to thrust in slow shallow strokes. Y/N made noises that went right to his cock, prompting him to pull out further, slamming into her hard enough to bounce the pretty metal bed frame off of the wall.
“Fuck,” he grunted, holding himself up on his hands, watching the bliss cascade over her features, “you’re fucking gorgeous when you cum.” Burying his mouth against her throat, Dean kissed her, keeping his movement even as she finished, struggling to breathe. Her legs dropped back to the bed and he smirked. “Had enough?”
Y/N gasped for breath, cupping his face in her hands. The next movement she made wasn’t one he was expecting; she rolled, pinning him down between her powerful thighs, his cock still inside her by a fraction. When she sank back onto him fully, Dean arched, tipping his chin up into the air, worried that he might bust before he wanted to.
“Not nearly,” she giggled, bracing her hands on his firm stomach, rolling her hips and forcing a lustful groan from his lips. “You?”
All he could was shake his head and grip her thighs, letting her ride him as hard as she wanted. The sight of her bouncing on his cock, hair a mess and makeup slowly smearing, bra dragged halfway down over her tits - Dean hadn’t seen anything so arousing in his life.
“Wanna cum for me, Dean?” Y/N teased, running her hands up his chest to pinch his nipples. Dean groaned and jerked, digging his thumbs into her hips a little harder. “It feels like you do,” she moaned, “and I wanna feel it.”
The sound that left him was half-strangled and she smiled, the expression morphing into a “o” as she reached her peak again. Her pussy squeezed him tightly and Dean couldn’t hold on - he growled loudly, dragging Y/N down into a kiss that was all teeth and tongue as he came, spilling into the condom.
She collapsed onto his sweaty chest, panting heavily, laughing through her breathlessness. Dean chuckled too, stroking one hand over her messy hair. “Damn. I was not expectin’ that,” he muttered. Y/N rolled off of him, landing on her back beside him.
“Me either. But thanks. I needed the, er,” she giggled, “release.”
Dean smiled, leaning over to kiss her again before getting off the bed to remove the condom. As he waddled to the TRASH CAN he’d spotted across the room, his phone started to ring in his pocket and he fished it out, seeing his brother’s name on the screen.
“Sammy!” he greeted, answering the call. “How’s it going?”
“Hey, Dean, er,” Sam sounded breathless, like he’d been running, “so, Ellie’s the thing we’re hunting. She tried to eat me.”
Honestly, Dean tried not to laugh. He turned away from Y/N, who was dressing in more comfortable clothing. Cupping the receiver with his hand, he lowered his voice. “What do you mean, she tried to eat you? Are you that out of practice?”
“The teeth, Dean. The old woman mentioned teeth. It’s a Leviathan!”
Dean felt the blood drain from his face. “Where are you?” he demanded, waiting for Sam’s answer. “Stay there, I’m coming to get you.” He hung up, turning back to Y/N as he dragged his pants back on. “Hey, you got any cleaner?”
The look on her face was priceless. “Cleaner?”
“This is gonna sound really weird,” he continued sheepishly, reaching for his shirt, “but my brother just puked all over my car and I gotta go sort it out. She’s a classic.” His explanation was flimsy but Y/N shrugged.
“There’s some under the sink,” she replied, gesturing to the kitchenette. “You want me to give you a ride?”
Dean frowned as he pulled his shirt on, heading for the sink. “Er, yeah, Sam said he’s on the corner of 7th and Roosevelt.” Y/N’s face twisted in concern and Dean glanced up just in time to see it. “What?”
“Wasn’t your brother with Ellie?”
“She lives on the other side of town. Why the hell would he be there?”
“Beats me?” Dean muttered, reaching under the sink and grabbing a bottle of cleaning solution, checking the label. When he saw the necessary ingredients, he nodded and stood up, closing the doors. “Just give me a ride to my car.”
“Wait, if your brother threw up in the car, why isn’t he with it?” she asked. “I’m assuming your ride at the bar and Roosevelt is -”
“My car is at the motel a couple blocks over,” Dean rushed out. “Look, I know this is weird but we just had the most amazing sex and I really don’t wanna end this night on a bad note.” She blinked, unsure of his explanation. “I need you to trust me, okay? There’s something in this town killing people and me and my brother gotta stop it.”
Y/N was quiet as she drove him to the motel but it was clear from her pensive expression that she was thinking. Dean didn’t initiate any conversation; his nerves were frayed, worry for his brother obliterating anything else. Yet, the silence in the car was driving him nuts, leaving him to tap his finger against his thigh impatiently.
The streets were quiet - given it was nearly three in the morning, it wasn’t surprising. So when Y/N’s headlights flashed over a figure rushing into the road, she screeched and pulled the wheel to the side. The battered old Ford collided with the person, sending them flying over the bonnet.
Nearly hyperventilating, Y/N pulled over, unclipping her belt and bolting from the idylling car. Dean was out just as quick, just about grabbing her before she could reach the body.
Which was getting up from the floor with a groan, leaking black fluids all over the asphalt.
Her protest was cut short as Dean bundled her into the passenger seat, taking over the driver’s side. Putting the car into reverse, he slammed his foot on the gas, ramming the figure again. Y/N screamed, covering her eyes; Dean put the car in drive and peeled away, his eyes darting to the rearview.
The leviathan was getting up again.
“Fuck,” he growled, taking the corner to the motel with a squeal of the tires and Y/N clung to the door, closing her eyes.
Sam was waving at them from beside the Impala, both arms in the air as they pulled up, the gravel in the parking lot spraying everywhere with the sudden halt. Dean was out before Y/N this time - she was too busy trying not to have a panic attack in the front seat.
“Dude, you brought her with you?”
“I told you to stay put!” Dean barked, heading straight for the trunk of the Impala and opening it. “Shit, the borax is -”
A feminine voice yelled across the parking lot and both brothers turned, spotting Ellie striding toward them, no sign that she’d been hit by a car only moments before. She was almost snarling at them and Dean grabbed his machete, twirling it in his hand. “Borax is in the car!” he yelled at Sam, taking off toward the leviathan.
Sam dashed to the passenger side of Y/N’s car, flinging the door open. With a brief ‘ hi ’, he leaned between her legs, grabbing the bottle cleaning fluids. Dean flew across the lot behind him, hitting the back of Y/N’s car. It lurched and Y/N screamed again, feeling utterly useless.
The leviathan was behind Sam as he turned, struggling to get the child-safety cap off of the bottle. Ellie grinned, snatching the bottle and tossing it over her shoulder. Her fingers curled in his collar, dragging him away from the car and to the floor.
“Winchesters,” she snapped, “I always wanted to eat one of you. Why’d you run, Sam?”
Groaning as she leaned closer, Sam desperately punched at her, barely knocking her back an inch. Ellie growled in fury, her mouth splitting too wide for her face.
“Sam!” Dean roared, sliding the machete across the floor. It stopped an inch from Sam’s fingers and Dean rushed, trying to get to them before Ellie bit his head clean off.
Y/N was there first, pouring the borax solution over Ellie’s head. The creature screamed as her skin dissolved and she released Sam, who rolled away spluttering the awful taste of chemicals out of his mouth. Ellie span, knocking Y/N away, just as Sam grabbed the machete and took the leviathan’s head clean off.
It hit the floor with a soggy crunch and rolled under the car. The body hit the ground and everything went quiet, save for all three of the survivors panting heavily. Y/N sat on her butt, hands stretched out behind her as she stared at the twitching corpse, sizzling with the chemicals burning it.
“She’s not dead,” Dean grunted, clutching his side.
Y/N didn’t think; she got to her feet and went to him, helping him to stand straight. Sam was rooting in the trunk of the Impala, finding a burlap sack. Using his foot, he fished Ellie’s head from underneath the car, inching it into the sack with a look of disgust on his face.
“Is she dead now?” Y/N asked, her face still filled with horror.
“No,” Dean muttered, wincing and Y/N frowned.
“You need a hospital.”
“Need to burn the body and bury the head,” Sam muttered. “He’ll be fine.”
“He might have broken something!” Y/N exclaimed and Dean chuckled, spitting blood onto the floor.
“Only my pride,” he grunted, flashing her a grin. “Trust me, I’ve had worse.”
Morning came with no sign of what had happened outside the motel. Dean’s ribs were black and blue but he didn’t think anything was broken, leaving Y/N to conclude that he was made of stronger stuff that she’d originally assumed.
“Guess I was really close with that description of you, huh?” she chided, leaning against the door as he packed his duffel bag. “Knight in shining armor.”
Dean grinned, shaking his head, zipping up the bag and turning to her. “I’m nothin’ special,” he replied, brushing past her. Sam was already waiting by the car and Dean stopped, waiting for Y/N to slip out of the room before closing the door. “Listen, it’s probably a good idea you didn’t tell anyone about this. Pretend it never happened.”
She smiled, folding her arms over her chest. “Should I forget the entire night?”
Cupping her cheek, Dean leaned in, kissing her softly. It was chaste in comparison to the way he’d touched her before but Y/N sighed into it anyway, feeling bereft when he pulled away. His eyes sparkled, his lips twitching up into a smile. “That answer your question?”
The next second he was pulling away and Y/N followed him to the car, wondering how she was letting him walk away.
That question had an easy answer.
She’d make sure she saw him again.
“Dean?” He shut the trunk of the Impala, looking back at her as she walked up to him, holding out a small rectangle of card. “If you’re ever in town, you know where you can find me.” She slipped the card into the front pocket of his jacket, her smile coy.
“Lemme guess, with the other coyotes?” He smirked and Y/N grinned back, giving a little howl. “I’ll be back, sweetheart.” Walking around her, Dean opened the driver’s side door, slipping and leaning out of the window, blowing her a kiss as he started the engine and reversed the car out of the parking lot.
Y/N watched for a moment until the Impala was out of sight, heading to her own car and back to her normal life.
“She was something, huh?” Dean sighed, still glancing in the rearview mirror. Sam smirked, shaking his head.
“Glad one of us got lucky,” he muttered and his older brother laughed, slapping his hands on the wheel and turning the music up.
“Hey, Sammy?” Glancing over, Sam raised his eyebrows, waiting for whatever Dean was going to say. “I told you so.”