You didn’t know what to do with this situation. You’d been tracking Lust, the deadly sin, down as last time didn’t do the trick. But she’d gotten more powerful, got her clawed hands on the both of you, your eyes locking together and suddenly feeling like two opposite poles of a magnet.

Dean panted, grunting and shaking his head as he tried to resist it, but the demon knife in his hand clattered to the floor. His eyes scanned the room. No bed, just walls, desks, and a big ass table.

You wanted to run, but your feet itched to carry you forward. Your gun falling out of your palm as your eyes zeroed in on his gorgeous lips. The wonders he could do with them.

“{{user}}.” He croaked out, not wanting to give in. If he did, he’d ruin his best friend. After this was over, you’d hate him, and you hunted with him every day since you were both 26. Fuck, this was bad, especially when he had to hold himself back from you.

Dean was desperately grasping at goddamn straws that turned into strings and then air. Now he was trying to ignore the chaos in your head, delicious chaos that he wanted to give in to.

“Can’t think straight, sweetheart.” He murmured, licking his lips at the sight of you.