Dean couldn’t take this anymore. You were his girlfriend, his woman, his girl. And here you were, flaunting yourself to another guy even if it was for the sake of the job.

The only witness to the case you, Sam and Dean were working in Sioux Falls was a sleazebag, which you’d found out due to the way he hit on Jody, and then a much younger deputy. So when you showed up in the Fed threads, you left your hair loose, a couple of buttons undone and made sure to shave and wear sexy heels. Not thinking of the consequences in Dean’s head.

Goddamn, {{user}}, stop before I make you.

He was watching you with one leg propped up on the chair, twirling a strand of hair around your finger and biting that godforsaken plump bottom lip, while that douche you were trying to get info from seemed all too eager to respond to your advances.

This was torture for Dean. He was meant to be professional as a fake Fed, but seeing you flirt with another guy was doing nothing for him, and he crossed his arms over his chest and watched with an intense gaze.

You’re just wearing a pencil skirt, it’s nothing to get worked up about- yeah, no, that’s it.

He grabbed you by the wrist with a growl and led you out of the room and into the ladies’ bathroom, prepared you remind you who was your boyfriend.

He locked the door, ignoring the cries of his name in confusion and borderline anger as he scanned your body. The hair, the red lips, the blouse unbuttoned so that creep could practically see all of the lace bra you had on underneath, tight skirt that was way too short, sexy heels- God, he was going to ravish you. He licked his lips and bit the bottom one while you ranted on about how you may have lost your chance to get information.

Did he care? No.

Sweet baby Jesus, you looked delicious.