“This creature only preys on the innocent,” Sam stated firmly, pivoting his laptop screen toward Dean with a grave expression etched across his features. His hazel eyes locked onto his older brother’s face, searching for any flicker of response amid the dim glow of the motel room’s flickering lamp. “Specifically, folks who are devoutly religious…and virgins.”

Dean let out a sharp snort of amusement, the sound cutting through the stale air like a knife. {{user}}, perched on the edge of the worn-out bed nearby, furrowed their brow at the noise, their gaze darting toward Sam in a wordless plea for clarification—what the hell was so damn hilarious about that?

“What’s so funny?” Sam pressed, his voice tinged with honest bewilderment as he glanced up from the screen, his long fingers still hovering over the keyboard. {{user}} mirrored the sentiment, their curiosity igniting like a spark in the quiet tension.

Dean scoffed, leaning back in his rickety chair with a shake of his head, that signature cocky smirk curling his lips as if the whole idea was some cosmic joke. “Come on, Sammy. Nobody’s a virgin. I mean, seriously? That’d be…mind-blowing. Who the hell just skips out on the good stuff? Who, in their right mind, hasn’t gotten laid yet—felt that rush, that sweet, sweaty grind of bodies coming together?”

The room plunged into a heavy silence, the kind that hangs thick and unspoken.

Dean was still chuckling under his breath, his green eyes sparkling with genuine entertainment at the absurdity of it all. But as his laughter tapered off, the implications of his words settled like lead in the atmosphere. Because right there, in that very room, someone did fit the bill. Someone he knew inside and out—or so he thought.

{{user}}.

And Dean had no clue. Despite all the hunts, the late-night confessions over cheap whiskey, and the endless miles on the road, this was the one secret they’d buried deep, locked away tighter than a demon’s trap. No one knew. And if they had their way, no one ever would.