Normal people don't think about taking showers; its something that happens every night for the majority of the human population. But that wasn't the case for you. Being a hunter of demons and monsters often left you sweaty, bruised and more than a little bloody, which is why when you and the Wnichester's arrived at a motel for the night you made sure to be the first one to call dibs on the bathroom.

"Dammit, (y/n)!" Dean complained as you brushed past him to be the first one in the room. "Why do you always get to take the first shower? Sam and I deserve some hot water too, don't you think?"

"Women and children first!" You called, dropping your bag at the end of one of the beds and quickly unzipping it. You thrust your hand inside, feeling around the crucifixes and holy water for your little bottle of body wash that smelled amazing.

"This isn't the Titanic," Dean replied dryly, throwing his own bag onto the floor. "And I hate goin in there after you've stink it up with your stupid girly soap."

"I don't think it smells that bad," Sam offered. Dean gave his brother the stink eye and Sam shrugged. "It smells good."

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Dean frowned.

"Oh relax, Dean," you laughed as you flounced into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. "I'll be fast, I promise."

"Alright, well," Sam stretched his arms over his head before snatching the keys to the Impala from Deans hand. "Since I stink the least, I'll go get some food."

"Great," Dean grumped as the door to the motel room closed. He plopped down on the bed, shoving the ancient pillows aside and grabbing the remote. He settled into the creaky bed, rolling his shoulders as he turned on the T.V. to zone out. He knew it would be awhile before you got done in there.

In your defense, you were a woman. You had needs and didn't want to constantly smell like sulfur 'The perfume of the hunter' you thought with a shake of your head. As you stripped down and went to hop into the shower, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and paused.

You turned towards it, eyes roaming down over your shoulders and stomach and thighs… You put your hand over your belly, giving it a little shake. You frowned. Food on the run had not been kind to you. In fact, you could see the nights of burgers and cheap burritos adding up in the thickness of your thighs.

Twisting around, you were dismayed to find your butt had gotten bigger too. And here you thought all the running and fighting had done you good… Obviously not. Tomorrow, you decided you were going to join Sam on his morning run and eat tofu and organic vegetables.

You sighed and stepped into the shower, turning on the hot water. The flowery scent of your body wash didn't make you feel better about your body.

You were getting fat. Letting yourself go.

You watched the blood come off your skin and gather in brown pools around your toes. Your confidence was sinking lower and lower. By the time you were clean and dry, you knew it would be one of those nights where you'd be a prickly pain in the ass.

You resolved to go right to bed, not talk to anyone. You weren't even hungry anymore and even if you were, you didn't want to eat anything. You pulled on a comfortable pair of black cotton underwear and a bra, followed by an oversize white shirt you'd stolen from Dean at some point. You forgot to grab your black shorts but you heard the front door close and figured the boys left to bring back chow.

You left the bathroom, toweling off your damp hair and sighing heavily. So much for feeling nice and clean. You padded into across the room, having tunnel vision on the bed you claimed.

"It's about time…"

You took in a sharp breath, your eyes snapping over to find Dean's eyes roaming up your legs. He radiated self confidence and sex, laid back with his boots kicked on the floor and his shirt rumpled. Your throat tightened. Even with spatters of blood on his left cheek, he looked edible.

"Dean," you squeaked, self consciously tugging the shirt lower on your thighs. Warmth rushed to your cheeks as he lifted a suggestive brow. "I-I thought you and Sam went to get food."

"Obviously not, princess," he replied, shifting and letting his legs fall open casually. He patted his thigh and winked at you. "C'mere."

Your stomach rolled uncomfortably. As much as you wanted to relax in his arms, you didn't feel good enough. Dean was all hard muscle and lithe movements. You were pudgy. You turned away from him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Not tonight, Dean," you muttered and sat down on your bed, yanking the covers up and over your chin, facing away. "I just wanna sleep."

"Is there something on your mind, (y/n)?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. You heard him click off the T.V. and the mattress dipped as he sat near you. His hand fell heavily against your shoulder and squeezed gently. You shrugged him off, burrowing into the sheets and squeezing your eyes shut. "Talk to me, baby."

You muttered into your pillow, making Dean sigh.

"I can't hear you like that, (y/n)." He intoned.

"I said 'I'm fat'!" you barked loudly and curled up on yourself more.

"…what?!" Dean sounded shocked. You felt him tense up. "Where the hell is this coming from? Do you hear yourself right now?"

"I'm fat, ok?" You turned your head slightly, peering at him over your shoulder. He looked pissed, his nostrils flaring. "My stomach, my thighs… even my ass."

Dean glared at you, his emerald eyes flashing with anger he usually reserved for a vampire who'd stepped on his toes. He moved closer, bracing himself with his arm over your head. His other hand landed on your hip and squeezed. He took a calming breath rolling his eyes and shaking his head in wonder.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing from you," his tone softend. He leaned in and you closed your eyes as he pressed a tender kiss to your cheek. "That's the most bullshit thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth. And that's not easy to accomplish."

It was hard to concentrate on feeling bad when he joked like that. You felt a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth and tried to somber yourself, wiggling and trying to push him away from you with your butt.

"Leave me alone."

"Like hell."

Your covers were yanked away in a rush of cold air. You yelped and pulled the pillow over your face but that too was tossed across the room. He pressed his hand to your shoulder, making you look at him.

You were left starring up at the face of a giant man-child, a playful smile on his lips and he looked down at you with deep affection. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He looked beautiful basking in a warm orange light from the cheap lamp on the bedside table. Tiny black shadows flickered across his cheeks when he blinked. He reached up and pressed the palm of his hand to your cheek, starring right into your soul as he closed the distance.

He smelled of copper and sweat; dangerous and powerful yet you felt oddly safe as his body settled snug on top of yours. Your mouth watered and your gaze flickers to his lips. He brushes his fingertips from your cheek down your neck and over your collar bone; ghosting the swell of your breast before firmly grasping your hip. That's when he kisses you.

With his hand kneading the flesh of your hip, pressing you down into the mattress in a way you never imagined could be pleasurable. He pushes his tongue into your mouth and your insides turn to molten lava. Your hands go into his hair. It's impossible not to touch him. His stubble scratches so deliciously against your hand.

He pulls away too soon, leaving you flushed and wanting more but your heart seizes in your chest at how upset he looks. He straddles your hips and stares down at you. You suddenly wish you had Castiel's wings so you could fly away and disappear. Those sharp eyes were looking right through you.

"You think your fat?" He growls, his hands sliding down your body slowly. "Fine. But I'll be damned if I'm not going to use what you have to my advantages, sweet cheeks."

Butterflies burst through your stomach at what he's saying and how his hands are massaging you. It feels amazing and the way he's looking at you makes you feel good; loved.

He unceremoniously pulls your shirt over your head, his eyes alive with lust. He lets out a moan at the sight of your skin, tracing his fingers over your stomach and breasts in worship.

"You turn me on soooo bad, (y/n)…" He purred, leaning back down to deliver more passionate kisses. You close your eyes, utterly helpless to resist his sweet words. And damn if you weren't feeling the effects of his touch between your legs.

He started kissing down your neck, sucking and scraping his teeth gently. You shuddered and rubbed up and down his jean-clad thighs, feeling over the tensed muscles beneath your hands. Dean let out a strangled moan between your breasts, licking at the skin slowly and leaving cool trails of saliva all over. He slipped one bra strap off your shoulder and pulled down on one side, exposing one half of a matching set.

"Mmm, I love them," he whined, setting on your nipple with delight. You gasped aloud, arching your back as his hot tongue pressed down against the center like a button. "Can I keep them? I'll name one Bonnie and the other Clyde."

"So one of my boobs is a guy?" You breathed, looking down at him with a laugh.

He chuckled, nuzzling his rugged cheek against your sensitive flesh.

"Unless you want 'em to be lesbians, yeah."

You couldn't keep a smile from your face. He looked up at you with his charming smile, flashing those pearly whites.

"Shutup you dork," you giggled, pulling him up to kiss you again.

He obliged you eagerly, wrestling your tongue and feeling up your chest like a teenager. You didn't mind, actually finding it really cute. Then he settled in between your legs and ground his hips into yours in a way that was not so cute. You groaned in longing, the feeling of the rough denim against your cotton underwear was blindingly hot friction. He reached down and took a fistful of your thigh, pressing harder.

"I love your soft your thighs are," Dean said as he pulled back for air. He gazed at you while rolling his hips. "It feels that much better when I fuck you."

Your breath hitched at the naughty words, your eyes widening slightly. His hand traveled further up your thigh and his fingers curled around the waistband of your underwear. He started to pull them down one side, just low enough to leave one of your glutes naked against the cool sheets. He reached beneath you and squeezed your ass harshly.

"Don't get me started on the size of this perfect ass."

Your face was deep red and you bit your lower lip as he greedily massaged the flesh in his hand. He bent forward and latched onto your breast again, making you moan loudly.

"Your body is a fucking temple. I'm never going to get enough. Jesus," he sucked noisily on your nipple.

"God!" You gasped, seeing a burst of stars. "Ok! Dean, I get it!"

"Do you?" he murmured, flashing his green eyes at you.

You nodded rapidly.

"I-I have a nice body." You said.

"Nice?" he scoffed. "You can do better than that, (y/n.)"

"Awesome?" you hedged. "Incredible?"

"Warmer…" He lashed his tongue out, causing your spine to stiffen.

"Suh…" you swallowed hard. "Sexy?"

A big grin spread across his cheeks and he rewarded you with a series of sweet kisses that left you dizzy.

"That's my girl," he purred, pulling your underwear all the way down your legs. He sat back, taking your ankle in his hand and laying a kiss against the inside of your calf. "You have a body women make deals with the devil to get."

You laughed, a mixture of delight and arousal.

"That's ironic…" you bite your lip as you watch him undo his pants, allowing the promising bulge of flesh press forward. Your insides quivered with anticipation.

"I'm just getting warmed up," Dean winked, palming himself through the fabric for a moment.

You sat up and pulled him in for more kisses, savoring the tingles his stubble caused. Then he was baring down on you, your ankles resting on his shoulders as he slid himself against your moist slit. You held your breath, watching the head of his cock poke over your mound a few times as he teased you.

"Dean, come onnn!" You whined. You didn't like to sound so needy but you had enough foreplay. You wanted him hard and you wanted him now.

"Whatever you say, princess," he replied.

You were about to retort that you never liked that nickname when your words cut off at the sensation of his shaft pressing into your slippery folds. He eased in, nice and slow, grunting at the struggle to stay in control. Your head fell back against the mattress as he settled inside you snugly. It was like your body remembered the shape of his manhood, conforming and squeezing around it in a tight embrace.

Dean's fingers dug into the tops of your thighs as he pressed forward as deeply as he could before slowly withdrawing. You sighed, opening your hazy eyes to look up at him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead and chest. He pressed back in and eased out again, building a slow rhythm that would last long enough for both of your to reach an orgasm.

You loved how he knew to swing his hips just right with every single thrust. You trembled when he licked his thumb and swiped over your clit at the perfect moment that made your vision blur. You loved how he nestled his forehead in the crook of your neck and gave it to you, gasping a harsh word in a melting voice. You loved laying together, panting and sticky, the afterglow hanging around your heads like an endless dream. You loved kissing goodnight, too relaxed to move a muscle, opting to simply pull a sheet over you and sleep together.

You loved how he knew when you were feeling bad and you loved even more how he knew just what to do to make you feel hotter than a porn star.