"Guess you didn't know, hm?" Dean had his hand on your neck, just threateningly so you'd know it's there. Back against his chest in the dingy bar he'd holed up in with Crowley, devoid of patrons of Crowley himself because he knew you'd be there. Guess he thanked the new transition to being a demon due to the Mark of Cain and being stabbed by Metatron. Really helps.

"Didn't know I'd see you, huh, sweetheart?" Dean continued with a chuckle, looking you over. Dean when he was a human had a thing for you. Dean when he was a demon would use that to his advantage. He wouldn't hurt you, he'd make you his little plaything. A few touches would be all it took.

Dean's arm was around your waist, keeping you right where you were, against him, your head back against his shoulder with no escape. He breathed in your perfume. Addicting, but it would be masked by his scent soon.

Dean knew who sent you to track him down. Sammy just couldn't let go, could he? And, of course, he sent the one person who he found easiest to corrupt. Because he'd known you for so long that it would be so damn simple; he knew you too well.

He'd break you. He knew he could.