.X.Behind These Hazel Eyes.X.

She had been attracted to him ever since the day she had first laid eyes upon him. But never had she thought that the mutual attraction would turn into something like this. Love. Hate. A love/ hate relationship where they'd argue one day and then love each other the next. Never had she thought that she'd ever have a relationship such as this with Dean Winchester, the older brother of Sam and the older son of John. Never had she thought that he'd stay around long enough to give her a chance. A chance to be with him. A chance for him to love someone. For her to love someone. For them to love one another.

She walked through the empty hallway of her house in Trenton, memories coming back to her everywhere she looked. She stopped in the large kitchen, hardly anything out of place. Faint rays of sunlight fell through the large window above the kitchen sink, making the area look heavenly. Heavenly. Nothing was ever out of place, only when he came over. Dean Winchester. He always knew how to upset things. Especially when he came back from a hunt. A long hunt that tired him. Wore him out. Always wanting something. And never knowing where to get it from, or where to put it back. It always drove her insane, yet whenever he didn't come after a hunt, nothing felt right, as if whenever he did those things were some sort of blessing to her. Or some sort of blessing altogether.

She was alone, and he was out on a hunt. It was unfair. To her at least. He wouldn't allow her to come with him, and no matter how much they had argued, he always got his way. She hated seeing him angry. She didn't want to make him angry. She wanted him to be cafreul. Protecting her from harm, no matter how much he was always putting himself at harm. It made her worry, made her stress- she wanted him to be in her arms. Wanted to know that he was okay. That he was in her sight and in arm's reach.

She gave a sigh. She could see his face everywhere. Everything in her house reminded her of him. His smell. What he wore. His smile. His charm. The very thing that made her fall for him. It definitely wasn't a curse, but it drove her insane. She couldn't be without him. Not even for a single second. She even needed him now. No. She craved for him. She craved for his touch. His gentle fingers carressing her skin. His smile making her heart beat wildly in her chest. The kiss that sent chills down her spine. She wanted him, and she wanted him now. She didn't care where he was in the country. But she knew she wouldn't see him today or tonight. He was on a hunt. One too dangerous for her to come with him. Or so he says. Liar. She knew he thought she was a burden. No matter how much he loved her.

Geez she hated him for being so over-protective of her like that. She could easily take down a spirit if she wanted to, but he had simply forgotten about that. And the many times that she had saved his ass. And maybe vice versa. She traced her fingers over the indents in the wooden kitchen table in the room. They had gotten so carried away that they almost made love on it. Thank god they didn't though, because she would've thrown him out of the house. But thank god they had stopped. They actually made it to the bed. She wouldn't have thrown him out of the house anyway. She only threatened to. Make him listen to her.

She ran a hand through her long, straight, dark brown hair. How she craved for him to run a hand through it. He knew she liked it. That was why the reason why he did it. He loved getting a response out of her from the things he did to her. He knew he could bring her pleasure. And she could do the same to him. That was why he always came back. The walls that he had built around his heart always came crumbling down when he was around her. He had never felt this way before about someone, other than Cassie. But she was different. They saw eye-to-eye because they were both hunters, and that made the situation much more easy. She wouldn't run out on him because he hunted supernatural things. She'd join him on a hunt instead. Kill a few things.

Her hazel green eyes darted across the room, wanting to see his face again. She hadn't seen Dean for over a week now. Ever since she wasn't allowed to go with him. Since he said she wasn't allowed to join him. Now she didn't expect to see him. He wouldn't come back to see her. If he ever did, she knew she'd yell at him, and he'd yell at her back. It was just who they were. Arguing one minute, making love the next. That was how they were. A love/ hate relationship, even though love was the strongest emotion they both felt.

She left the kitchen, one hand covering her mouth, the other moving to curl around her stomach. Of course he could protect her from the physical harm, but not the emotional harm. What she was feeling now. She wanted him to be with her now. She wanted him back. Back from the hunt already. He wasn't here to protect her from this. The loneliness that had formed in the pit of her stomach. No one could fill it but him. No one could make her feel more alive than him. No one but him. She needed him, as much as he needed her.

She sat down on one of the sofas in the loungeroom, silence being the only thing that could be heard. God she hated him. Leaving his mark everywhere in her house. So then he was unforgettable, no matter how hard she tried. It was simply impossible. Memories were everywhere in her house, no matter where she went. She hated him for it, but she also loved him for it. They were wonderful memories. Ones that she wasn't going to forget rather quickly. Silent rays of sunlight fell into the room through the curtains, softly falling onto her face. He wouldn't come to her. Knowing him, he'd go and spend some time with his younger brother than her. Maybe have a few beers at a bar somewhere. Getting pissed. Having a great time. Forgetting about her.

The faint knocking against wood echoed throughout the entire house, breaking her from her thoughts. She wasn't expecting a visitor. No one. Unless it was him, which, highly unlikely, it wasn't. She left the loungeroom, and slowly walked through the front hallway, different thoughts running through her head. She hoped it wasn't him. Yet she did. She really didn't know what to think. Did she really want to see him right now?

She couldn't get her hopes up. She simply couldn't. She let out a sigh as she finally arrived at the front door, before grabbing the door handle and opened it. She really couldn't explain the way she was currently feeling. Many mixed emotions. Confusion. Hate. Love. Concern. He was injured. He was covered in blood, sweat and dirt. Blood was smeared across his face. His clothes. He looked exhausted. He needed her. That was why he had come back. Why he had come back for her. He needed her. And she needed him.

"Carli." Her name sounded angelic coming from him. It always made her melt on the spot. She hated him for it. For having so much power over her. Yet she loved him for it. She didn't know what to say. She simply kept her mouth closed as she moved to let him inside. He was injured. She could tell by the look in his eyes. The way he had spoken her name. She closed and locked the door behind him, before following him through to the kitchen. He knew his way around. He was at her house often. Way too often.

He pulled off his brown leather jacket and tossed it onto one of the chairs in the kitchen. The leather jacket that she had grown so fond of. He wore it almost everywhere. On almost every hunt he went on. Almost everywhere. He ran a hand through his light brown hair. His hazel eyes watching her from their corners. He was in pain. But he didn't care. He was with her. He was completely fine now that he was with her. She always knew how to make him feel alright, no matter how much pain he seemed to be in. It was her love for him and his love for her that got him through the toughest moments in his life. And maybe even hers.

He reached down and pulled off his dirty biker boots and socks. He carelessly tossed them aside before he pulled off his open shirt and tossed it onto another chair. Thank god he was out of those clothes. He felt dirty. Tired. He could really go with a bath. Or maybe even a shower. He didn't care. He could go for either. Anything to get the blood, sweat and dirt off his skin. To feel clean again. He knew she was standing behind him. Watching his every movement carefully. He could feel her watchful gaze.

"Dean." Carli leaned in the doorway. Arms crossed over her chest. How could he just show up like this? Unannounced? Not that she cared. But she was hurting inside. He hadn't bothered to keep in contact with her while he had been away. That had pained her deeply. Not hearing the sound of his voice. Not seeing him. "Why are you even here?" The question stung him. Made him wince. She obviously didn't want him here. But he wanted to be here. With her. He wanted to be here with her. He wanted to touch her feather-soft skin. He wasn't going to leave. Not until he felt like leaving. Which was never. He was staying for good. Maybe until another hunt.

He turned and faced her. His hazel eyes blazing. He creased his brows. "Why else?" Stupid question. She didn't want to answer it. She already knew the answer. He was here because of her. She couldn't sum up the courage to throw him out. Not now. She shifted her feet. She didn't budge as Dean moved closer to her. She could feel the heat emitting from his chiselled body. She could smell the blood on his skin. The sweat on his forehead. The dirt on his hands and body. He moved yet again, and placed a strong hand above her head. He now leaned against the doorframe as she did. His body inches away from hers.

"I take it you're not happy to see me." She was, yet she wasn't. But he had hurt her without even meaning to. Without even knowing. He knew she was confused. It was written across her face. He could see it in her eyes. He could read her like an open book. It was that simple. He could do with a beer. But he had to get this sorted out. Him and her. That was all that mattered at the moment. In this space of time. She was so important to him. He needed her. That was why he had come back. He needed to see her. To feel her. To feel her skin against his own.

She moved, her expression hardly changing. "Come upstairs." It wasn't a suggestion, more like a command. He followed her up the stairs without question. Or hesitation. They arrived in her bedroom. Spacious with reddish carpet and a large window overlooking the driveway below. A large double bed. An ensuite and a walk-in-robe. He followed her into the ensuite. Pearl white walls and floor shining in all its glory. She knelt down and pulled out a first-aid kit from the cupboards below the sink. She gestured for him to move. He jumped up onto the counter next to the sink. His back facing the mirror behind.

She pulled out a cloth as he removed his final layer of clothing. A bloodied, black shirt that showed off his biceps. The one that she had become so used to whenever she was with him. She poured alcohol onto the cloth and moved forward. He pulled his legs apart. She stood between them. She placed the cloth onto his shoulder. He winced out of pain. She couldn't help but feel for him. It was his fault though. He left her behind. "I missed you." Dean looked up. She looked down as she removed the cloth. She poured more alcohol onto it before placing it onto another wound. He winced again, and a low groan left his lips. His kissable lips.

She hated to see him in pain. It cut her deeply. She didn't expect to hear what he said next. "I missed you more." They loved to challenge one another. That was how they flirted. Seeing which one would faulter. She learnt how to cope with him. She was the only one who could actually make him faulter. She ran the cloth over his face, cleaning up the dirt, blood and sweat. Now he smelt like alcohol. But she could still smell him. His cologne. The one that he always wore. The one that always left its mark somewhere in the house. Even her clothes smelt like it. She smelt like candy. He loved her smell. It always drove him insane. It had such an effect on him.

She was done. She put the cloth away. The alcohol. The first-aid kit back into the cupboard. She backed away and left the ensuite. He jumped down and left his shirt on the floor. He wasn't going to allow her to walk away from him. Not ever. Never. "Carli." His voice was stern. His jaw was set. His eyes were blazing. She stood in the middle of the room. She turned and faced him. "Don't be mad." She couldn't help but be mad. She hadn't heard from him in almost over a week. She had been worried sick about him. If he was okay. Hoping that he hadn't done something stupid and got himself killed.

She moved to enter the ensuite. It had a lock on the door. Maybe she could lock herself in there away from him. But he caught her. His strong hand caught her wrist in a stirdy grip, never wanting to let go. Never going to let go. She looked at him. Her eyebrows slowly creasing. She wanted him to let her go. But he wasn't going to. He slowly grabbed her other wrist in the same grip, before he pushed her. Her back hit the wall. Her hands pinned beside her head. She had every reason to be mad with him. His body pressed against hers. He wanted her. She could tell by the look in his eyes. His hazel eyes. She wanted to escape, but she couldn't move. He had trapped her. His body against hers. His shirtless body. She moved, but couldn't escape. He knew she wanted him as well. She was simply denying it.

She had to get away. "I hate you." She didn't really. Dean knew that. He knew her too well. A smirk crept along his lips. He knew he was getting to her. Making her mad. Pushing her buttons. He leaned forward. His face next to hers. She could feel his breath against her neck. "I hate you too." The whisper made her shiver. He could feel it. He could see it. The challenge. She moved yet again, and he moved away. He gave her room. Her wrists had been released. She left the bedroom. He simply followed. He wasn't going to let her get away. Not that easily at least. She entered the kitchen. Put on the kettle. Made herself a cup of coffee. He watched her. His hazel eyes watching her every movement. How she walked. Her hips swaying. She approached him. Placed two cups of coffee down onto the table. She knew he liked his coffee black. It was a simple fact.

"Why didn't you call?" The words stung. He knew that was one of the reasons as to why she was mad at him. She didn't dare move to get her cup of coffee. He ran a hand through his hair. He was tired. She could see that. His eyes fell upon her. Her never moving body that was leaning against the wall for support. Was he going to answer her? He approached her. His body only inches away from hers. This time she didn't back down. She wasn't going to run away. "I couldn't." Why couldn't he? Was he too busy to simply make a minute phone call? Or even leave a message? No. She wasn't going to forgive him. He didn't even bother to make an effort. To at least tell her that he was okay. She had been worried sick. "More like you couldn't be bothered." That stung as well. He wasn't going to allow her to abuse him. She didn't even know the full story.

He moved once again. His eyes never leaving her body. He loved her too much. His body pressed against hers. His strong arms moved to pull her closer. She didn't fight it. Her back was against the wall once again. "I was busy. I had a job to do." Her hazel green eyes locked with hazel. He was telling the truth. His eyes were telling her everything. She believed him. "I was worried sick about you." He ground his hips into her, and she shifted. Her back pushed roughly into the wall. Maybe a bruise would form. Maybe not. He placed his hands on either side of her head. To support him. He ground his hips into hers yet again. He knew every spot that turned her on. Every single spot. She moaned out of pleasure. Something that Dean always gave her. Pure bliss. She closed her eyes. Her breath becoming ragged. "I was worried about you." The whisper that had left his lips was almost as quiet as the wind. Her lips parted. She needed to get her breath back. He took this to his advantage.

Leaning forward, he captured her lips in a rough and passionate kiss. A kiss that she craved for. He cupped her cheek. Her hands moving to latch themselves onto the hoops of his jeans. His ripped and faded jeans that he wore too often. Ones that she had grown fond of. He pulled away. She was breathless. Now he was pushing her buttons. Her pleasure buttons. And he knew where everyone of them were located. Every single one. Her fingers were caught in the hoops of his jeans. She looked up. Her eyes made contact with his. She wanted him. He wanted her. It was the look in their eyes. Desire. Lust. Love. A smirk crept across his lips. He knew what she was thinking. She wanted more. A simply word left her soft lips. "God..."Her mind was racing. His hips ground into hers once again. It was going to drive her over the edge. Like it always did. He kissed her again. Gently. He knew he kissed her a little roughly before. Now he was going to make up for it.

She returned the kiss with as much passion as his did before. Her hands moved. They moved to wrap themselves around his neck. Her tongue passed his lips. That was something that drove him up the wall. She knew what he liked. And what he didn't like. She knew everything. More than he even expected her to know. A deep groan escaped his lips. Now he was becoming vocal. She was desirable. And it almost drove him over the edge. He moved again. His lips never leaving hers. His hands left the wall and grabbed her upper thighs. Strongly. He had to support her. Using little of his strength, he picked her up. Her body pressed against his. He hardened. He needed to make contact with her skin. Skin on skin. It was starting to become unbearable. Even for her. She wrapped her legs around him. Straddling his waist. They parted. He carried her to the table. He sat her down. Her arms unwrapping themselves from around his neck. Her legs removing themselves from around his waist.

He stood between her legs. His lower torso pressing against the wooden surface of the table. She was dressed in a pair of tight jeans. Ones that showed off her lovely legs. A simple tank top. One that showed off every curve. Every dip. He pulled her close to him. Her groin pressed roughly into his lower torso. His arms wrapped around her. Making her feel safe. Protected. Protected from any sort of harm. She rested her head against his shoulder. She gave a sigh. He moved his face and kissed her exposed neck. A hand ran down and grabbed the hem of her tank top. Slowly pulling it up. She shivered. Her lower back was now exposed. Including the mark a demon had left on her. His hand stopped and rested against her back. Her tank top wasn't going to go any further. He didn't care. He bit her neck gently, hoping to leave his mark. He knew he would. She groaned. She closed her eyes. Her cheek now resting against his shoulder. He moved his other hand lower. Down her back. It rested gently on her backside. His fingertips grazing the denim that covered it. She moved. Shifted.

Her arms moved from his hips. They moved up. One resting on one of his biceps. As if she was going to push him away. But she didn't. She simply rested against him. As if he was her life support. The only thing that was keeping her alive. The only thing that could keep her alive. He moved yet again. Both his hands reached down to grab her backside. He easily lifted her from the table. Her legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist. Straddling his waist. "I need you." His breath tickled her neck. She kissed his neck. Sucked it. Nibbled it. He groaned. He approached the stairs. Why couldn't they have stayed in the bedroom? Now their coffee went cold. But they didn't care. They were more concerned about one another. He carried her up the stairs. Her arms wrapped around his neck. His skin was radiating heat. He kept her warm. She simply melted against him. Against his naked upper body. He stopped at the top. She pulled away. He looked at her. Longingly. She was simply gorgeous. In his eyes at least. He kissed her gently on the cheek. He cared. He was gentle. Only with her.

He carried her to her bedroom. He gently put her on the ground. Her arms stayed wrapped around his neck. She smiled up at him. The one smile that could light up the room. The one that he found attractive. He was six foot one. She was five foot eight. She brought his lips to hers. She wanted him forever. But she had doubts that it would. She knew Dean Winchester too well. She pulled back. He looked on in surprise. What was wrong with her? She wanted to know. Those three words were said too much. But not enough. He watched her, his hazel eyes dark with repressed emotion. Tears began to fall. Down her cheeks. She simply stepped back, allowing them to roll down her cheeks. Why was she crying? She didn't even know herself. Everything was suddenly becoming confusing. His eyebrows creased. Now he was becoming worried about her. "Please don't cry." It almost sounded like a beg. But this was Dean. He never begged for anything. Not even mercy. His mouth moved. It was as if he was holding back tears of his own. But he never cried. Only after his father had died. And he was allowed to let them fall. It was his father's death after all. He ran a hand over his face. "I can't stand it when you cry."

She held herself as if she was cold. She was now doubting their relationship. But she didn't want to. She wanted everything to be like it was now. At this very moment in time. Just him and her. He reached out and touched her. His touch sending tingles through her veins. Shockwaves. It felt so good. She loved his touch. "Dean..." He pulled her gently against him. His strong arms around her waist. Her face finding his chest. As it always did when she was upset. With him. The world. Their job. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Touching his chest. He hated it when she cried. It literally tore him into pieces. He knew how to comfort her. How to make her feel better. It always worked out. No matter what it was about. She sobbed silently into his chest. He kissed her hair softly. He rested his head against hers. Taking in her scent. The one that he loved so much. His arm moved. He reached up and cupped her chin, causing her to look up at him. Her hazel green eyes. The ones that could always see straight through to his heart. He kissed her gently. A passionate kiss. One as soft as a feather. His arms moved yet again. He grabbed the back of her upper thighs. He gave a moan. Easily lifting her up. He held her. Protectively. They never parted. And they weren't going to. They loved each other too much. She slowly pulled away. She rested her forehead against his. Her eyes were closed. He knew she was trying to get her breath back. He was too. She could hear his gasps. Trying to calm himself. She felt his hands clench her thighs. Not wanting to let go. Never going to let go.

He held her for a moment. Forever in his eyes. Their eyes. He watched her. Her eyes were closed. Staying closed. His feet shifted. He moved. Began to walk. He approached her bed. Rays of light shining in from the curtains. Making the room look and feel heavenly. She was an angel in his eyes. He was her knight in shining armour. He slowly dropped her onto her bed. He followed. He lay on top of her. Her eyes opened. They were full of many different emotions. He moved and grabbed the hem of her tank top. "Carli..." His breath exhaled a warm path over her skin. Her tanned complexion. Their actions always spoke more loudly then their words. Always. That was how they were. He leaned forward and captured her lips. She welcomed him. They were like ying yang. One completing the other. His hands ran up over her stomach. And he stopped. He felt something. Something different. They parted. He looked down. Her naval hand been pierced. He looked back up at her. Their eyes making contact. "When did you get it...?" She felt his fingers move over her piercing once again. She moaned. She knew he was going to play with it. Keep his fingers busy. When had she gotten her naval pierced? Almost over a month ago. He just never seemed to notice. She wore it out sometimes. "I've had it for at least a month." His hands moved yet again. Leaving her piercing alone.

He grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled. Pulling it over her head. Away from them. The muscles of his stomach pressed against her own stomach. The only friction being the piercing. He left a trail of peppermint kisses down her forehead. Down her temple. Across her cheek. Over her jaw. Slowly moving down. Down her neck. Over her collarbone. She hated him for being so gentle with her. She wasn't fragile. She could easily break someone's jaw with her punch. Or her kick. She never slapped anyone. Not even Dean. She had almost broken his jaw once. She had punched him across the face. He had slapped her on the backside and she didn't approve of it. She flipped him over. His back hitting the soft material of the blankets beneath. She now lay on top of him. She moved and her head lay against his chest. Hearing the steady beats of his heart. He let out a sigh. One hand running through her hair. His finger always got tangled in them. She was used to it by now. "You're such a bitch." He smirked at her comment. Carli always called him a bitch. Even though he was a man. And the correct term was son of a bitch. She didn't care though. He didn't care. "But you're my bitch."

His hand moved over her back. Sending chills down her spine. He felt it. His hand gripped her waist. His arm resting across her back. "And you broke my beliefs too. You're such a bitch." That word again. He smirked at her. He had broken her beliefs. Carli had once believed in no sex before marriage. But upon meeting Dean, she literally through the belief out the window. Thanks to him. He felt her move. She now knelt over him. She was such a tease. Just like he was to her. She gently kissed his forehead. She kissed his nose. His eyelids. The edge of his mouth. Driving him to insanity. He hated it when she teased him. He preferred being the dominant one. She kissed his jawline. Slowly moving down. She placed a butterfly kiss in the crook of his neck. A groan escaped his lips. She began to leave a trail of butterfly kisses down his chest. Ever so softly. She kissed his stomach. Every muscle in his lower abdomen. He groaned yet again. Arms and hands reaching out to touch her. They found her arms. Her tongue trailed over every muscle of his abdomen. This treatment was unfair. She moved yet again, lips finding his chest. He had now had enough. Enough of this pleasurable torture. His hands gripped her arms tighter. She couldn't even feel the pain.

He flipped her over. Her back hitting the bed. He kissed her neck. He began to suck at the soft skin there. Another mark to explain if someone saw it. Who knows how many she had left on him. But who cared? Not him. And she probably didn't either for that matter. They were so laid-back it wasn't funny. They probably could almost be horizontal if it wasn't for their spines. Her bra was on. The stupid piece of material. He damned the person who created the wretched things. He despised them. He kissed her longingly. His tongue met hers. Fighting for dominance. One of his hands were still tangled in her hair. One of hers was tangled in his short, light brown hair. Both his hands moved. She smiled against his lips. She knew what he was going to attempt. She arched her back, her body pressing against his. His fingers moved along her back until they found her bra. Now all he had to do was unclasp it. Remove it from her body. Both her hands were now tangled in his hair. Silently urging for him to continue. He did just that. His fingers began to fumble. But he managed. His lips parted as he pulled her bra from her body. Their lips never leaving the others. She removed her hands from his hair. He got the bra off her. He carelessly threw it over his shoulder. The only thing on his mind Carli. He pressed his body against hers. She moaned against his lips. His hips grinding themselves into her own. He was such a tease. His lips left hers. Her hands remained in his hair.

She needed to hold onto him. She had to hold onto him. She felt his lips on the crook of her neck. They slowly began to move. A moan escaped her lips. He simply smirked. He always got a reaction out of her. He began a trail of kisses between her breasts. She moaned yet again. The kisses finally stopped on her stomach. Just above her naval. He moved his tongue over her naval. Caught the piece of metal between his teeth. He gently tugged. She felt the urge to kick him. But she fought against it. She wanted to kiss him. She moaned, hoping he'd stop. He did just that. He lifted his head and moved to meet her lips. He was sorry. He wasn't really. She knew that. She grabbed his bottom lip with her teeth. She bit down onto it until he groaned. She felt his hands grip her hips. His short nails digging into her skin. She let go of his lip. Soothing it with soft kisses. Making it all better. She suddenly stopped. Her lips parted from his. He looked down at her questionably. He now understood why she had stopped. A sound could be heard from another room. Not just any sound though. Her cell phone was ringing.

She ran a hand through her hair. She was now frustrated. Annoyed. She could feel the sweat at the roots of her hair. A sigh escaped his lips. He rolled off her, allowing her to get up. He fell onto the bed. Soothing his back. A hand running through his hair. He hated being interrupted. He watched as she climbed to her feet. Back turned to him. She slipped her tank top over her head. He listened carefully as she left the room. She had a good taste in music. It was much like his own. Mullet rock. AC/DC. Black Sabbath. Led Zeppelin. Metallica. Except she also liked Bryan Adams. And Bon Jovi. He reckoned she only listened to him because he wasn't a bad looking guy for forty years old. He looked up as she reentered the room. Her cell phone was in her hand. She hadn't picked it up yet. It was still ringing. The ringtone starting to get to him. It was a Bryan Adams song. Summer of '69. He loved that song. Sixty nine was indeed a good number. To him at least. She climbed onto the bed and crawled over to him. Phone still in hand. Was she going to answer it? He hoped she was. "It's Daine." Carli knew how he felt about Daine Hudson. They never got along. Even though he was married and had a child. It was the fact that she had dated him in the past was the thing that bugged Dean the most. That they had once been together.

The ringtone stopped. The entire song was over. He rested his head against one of the pillows. The soft pillows that she owned and he slept on. He watched her flip open her phone. He was now becoming interested. She instantly flipped it shut upon feeling his gaze. She smirked. The smirk that meant that she was up to no good. Her eyes sparkled. Bitch. The thought caused him to smirk in return. "For my eyes only." Oohhh... She sat up and placed the blue, Motorola V3x onto the bedside table next to the bed. Next to the lamp. Next to her alarm clock. His hand found her backside. Running over the denim that covered it. She rolled over. Her eyes locking with his. Why did he have to be so... so sexy? It was almost impossible to deny. Her eyes suddenly closed. Another noise interrupted the silence. He cocked an eyebrow as she rolled back over. The ringtone was different from the other. Most likely she had received a message. But from who? He suddenly realised what the ringtone was. The name Harrison Ford came to mind. Obviously she was a fan. He was too. He was excellent in Star Wars.

Two words: Indiana Jones. She liked those movies? They were so- crap. That was the only word he could use to describe the trilogy. She flipped her phone open. She absolutely loved the Indiana Jones theme. He was sexy after all! Her eyes read over the text message she had received. From none other than Daine. Shouldn't he be worrying more about his wife and child? He ruined everything. The stupid son of a bitch. There- she used the term. In her brain though.

Hey Carli
How are you? I just got back from a hunt.
Shit as. I almost got myself killed. But oh
well. You can't help those things. Anyway,
I got another job. Text back if you wanna
come. You don't have to, but I'd love to
hunt with you again. It's been ages since
we've hunted together. I won't keep you.
Text back as soon as you get this message
or want to join me.

She pressed reply and began to reply to his message. The keypad made noises as she did so. She didn't want to go on a hunt with Daine. She wanted to spend some time with Dean. Dean Winchester. She typed back a simple word: No before hitting the send button. He watched her flip her phone shut. He could tell that she was annoyed. It was written across her face. She rolled back over to face him. His eyes connected with hers. She smiled softly at him. He looked so calm. At peace with himself. He didn't look tired anymore. Thank god. She pulled herself onto her hands and knees. She crawled over to him. He watched her carefully. His eyes never leaving her body. He rolled onto his back. She stopped at his feet. Slowly she crawled over his body. She now lay on top of him. Her hazel green eyes looking into hazel. She loved his eyes. She could see whatever he was feeling by simply looking into his eyes. Only when they were alone could she do that. She knew he had to put his game face on for Sam.

"I said no..." Her voice was quiet. More quiet than a whisper. He could barely even hear her. But he had managed to catch what she had told him. He smirked. She leaned forward. Her face only inches away from his. She lifted her tank top over her head. She tossed it over her shoulder. Who knows where. He placed a hand to the back of her head. She was sweating. He brought her face down to his. Pulling her into a rough kiss. She smirked. Glad that he wasn't being gentle with her. He felt her hands run down his stomach, slowly getting lower and lower. He heard her hum as her hands reached his belt buckle. Indiana Jones. He hated Harrison Ford at this moment. She began to unbuckle his belt. "That's crap." Her hands stopped. They rested against his belt buckle. Almost finished unbuckling them. She stopped humming. He smirked against her lips before she pulled away. She looked at him questionably. Wanting an answer. His lips stayed in a smirk. "I can't believe you like Indiana Jones." He wasn't a real hero. It was so fake. Her eyes slowly narrowed. How dare he say that in front of her. Indiana Jones was her hero.

She playfully hit one of his biceps. "How dare you say that in front of me!" He flipped her over. He now lay on top of her. He kissed her gently, his hands feeling for her pants. "I'm only telling you the truth." She literally gasped against his lips. How dare he! Who did he think he was? Dean Winchester of course. His fingers grasped her buckle and began to undo it. Within seconds it was unbuckled, and he unzipped her pants. His fingers latched onto the belt hoops and slowly began to pull them off her body. Revealing her smooth legs. They were as tanned as the rest of her body. She was tanned all year 'round. Maybe it was because she was Australian. He really didn't know. "Thanks for ruining my life." He smirked against her lips. Running a hand up her thigh. Her legs were smooth. Feather soft. Like the rest of her body. She moaned. His fingertips reaching the top of her boy-legs. She easily reached up and grabbed his belt buckle. He smirked. He wasn't going to stop her. Her lips parted from his. She simply smirked. The one that meant payback. Payback for dissing Indiana Jones. Harrison Ford. She began to hum. The movie's theme song. He groaned out of annoyance. She unbuckled his belt. Unzipped the zipper. He felt the material slip off his body. He easily kicked them off. They simply fell off the end of the bed. Onto the floor.

Now he was only in a pair of boxers. A pair of black silk boxers. The same pair of boxers he sometimes caught her wearing. Her fingers gently traced the muscles in his abdomen. Slowly racing up. One hand rested on the back of his neck. The other stuck itself permanently in his hair. She continued to hum. He had to get her to shut up. His hand stayed on her hip. The other one moved yet again. It somehow got beneath her. Behind her back. He gently pressed his palm into her back. Wanting her to move. She did so. The humming slowly getting softer. She arched her back. Her lips met his. He roughly kissed her. Almost too roughly. But she didn't care. He really didn't either. She was probably going to bruise tomorrow. Her arms. Where he had grabbed her. Her hips. Also where he had grabbed her. She probably wouldn't care though. Unless she had a bruise on her face. But other than that, she was fine with having bruises. He bit her bottom lip. Repeating the torture she had done to him earlier. She moaned. Feeling some sort of pain. He stopped her. Kissing her bottom lip gently. Soothing it with butterfly kisses. She felt her boy-legs slip down her thighs. Down her legs. He kissed the corner of her mouth. Making up for the pain he had caused. Even though he didn't know he had caused her any. She had forgiven him. She knew he didn't mean to. He hardly meant to do anything to her. Unless they were arguing. She usually was the one who hurt him in an argument.

He pulled her boy-legs from her body. His fingers tracing the skin of her thigh. She felt his hand move. Away from her. She realised that he removed his boxers. In one swift movement. His lips left hers. They moved to her neck. He kissed her lovingly. She knew what that meant. She was ready. He thrust into her. She welcomed him inside her. She moaned. One hand moved. Claiming her breast. She almost went over the edge. The ecstasy driving her crazy. Oh god. It felt so good. He thrust into her once again. Almost to her peak. Her hands moved and her nails dug into his back. She moaned yet again. He withdrew. She closed her eyes. Trying to catch her breath back. Her body was well and truly spent. The whole course of the day had worn her out. He lay down on her. His head resting against her breast. He could hear her heart. Feel her breathing. She stroked his hair. She could tell he was spent as well. That's why he had stopped. He pulled the blankets over his body. His arms moved to wrap around her small frame. He tried to memorise every dip. Every curve that she had on her body. His hair was dampened by sweat. She shifted under his weight. His body was tense. Hers was almost the exact opposite. She was calm. Her breathing had steadied. She was almost like molten. Soft. What was wrong? She didn't know.

She kissed his hair. Her hand permanently stuck in his hair. It was only the late afternoon. She felt like going to sleep. He groaned. He rolled them over. Now he was on the bottom. She now lay on top of him. A hand pressed itself against his chest. Blankets wrapped around them. One of his hands rested in her hair. Her sweat dampened hair. He pressed his cheek against her hair. Taking in her scent. "Carli." He began to struggle with the words. His voice sounded harsh and commanding and hard. His throat was thick with desire. She moved to look up at him. His hazel eyes seemed to sparkle. "I came back." She smiled. Talk about stating the obvious. She moved to kiss him. A long and passionate kiss. "You're just too hard to get rid of." He smirked against her lips. She felt like crying. And the tears came. An arm moved to wrap itself around her. To comfort her. To make her feel safe. Protected. He pulled her closer. If that were possible. He wiped the tears from her eyes. She had to stop crying. He wanted her to stop crying. He had to stop her from crying. "Stop crying." She felt the whisper in her hair. She wanted to stop. But the tears just kept coming. "I'm not that horrible." She smiled through her tears. He always knew how to make her smile. How to make her laugh. She wiped her own tears away. He wasn't horrible at all.

He always found a way to make light of a situation. Any situation he was apart of. She gave a sigh. She was awfully tired. He was too. They both were. Their bodies both tired. Waiting for sleep to take them over. She closed her eyes. He kissed her hair. She was already asleep. In less than a few seconds. If that were possible. He smirked. She was always the first one to fall asleep after they made love. He also closed his eyes. He kissed her gently. Her scent of candy sent him to his slumber.


Her eyes slowly fluttered open. Sunlight shining in through the curtains, hitting her in the face. She moaned softly. Something behind her shifted. A warm body. An arm moved and wrapped itself around her. Thank god he was still here with her. He hadn't left her. Thank god. He shifted yet again. He groaned. Was he waking up? She hoped not. He could sleep in a little longer. She rolled over to look at him. He looked to be at peace. She glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. Shit. It was ten thirty in the morning. 10:30am. She had to wake him up. They had slept for over twelve hours. No wonder why she felt fresh. Awake. Alive. She pulled the blanket up and climbed on top of him. "Dean..." He groaned. He was slowly waking up. She knelt over him. He needed to get up. So did she. "Dean..." The whisper hardly even made him budge. He simply groaned again. She placed a lock of hair behind her ear. She kissed him gently. Another groan escaped his lips as he began to wake up. His eyes stayed closed, but he definitely knew what was going on. She kissed him again. And again.

Placing small kisses on his lips. "You have to get up..." He groaned. He didn't want to get up. He wanted to stay in bed for at least another day. Or maybe even forever. But that simply was impossible for his lifestyle. He had to get up. But did he have another job to do... so soon? He hoped not. She smiled. She placed kisses down his chest. Him continuing to groan as she did so. He slowly opened his eyes. A hand reaching up to stroke her hair. "I'm awake..." Ha. She had woken him up. She moved and kissed him. She silently thanked god that he had come back to see her. Even if it wasn't for that long. "Do I have another job...?" His voice was hoarse. He was groggy. He wanted to go back to sleep. But he was slowly waking up. And once he was awake, he was awake. Usually wanting a coffee. She made a noise against his lips. Obviously not. Thank god. He really wasn't up for another hunt so soon. He wasn't going to leave her alone on her own for a long time. He watched as she rolled off of him. She sat up. She winced. Her thighs were stiff. She gingerly got off the bed, taking a blanket with her.

He watched as she wrapped the blanket around herself. Thankfully she left him one. He felt like going back to sleep. She left the room. She walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen. She was thirsty. She opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Hopefully Dean had decided to get out of bed. She walked back up the stairs. The bottle of water at her lips. She drank the clear liquid. She now felt energised. She reentered her room. He hadn't moved. An arm lay across his eyes. He lay on his back. The covers covering the bottom half of his body. He looked to be half asleep. Annoyed that she had woken him up from his slumber.

She placed her bottle of water onto the bedside table. She held the blanket close to her body. She could be wrapped inside it for the whole day if she wanted to. She whispered his name once again. He groaned out of annoyance. She climbed onto the bed and crawled over to him. Suddenly feeling the need to be near him. To touch him. She pulled the blanket from her body and got under the blanket with him. She climbed on top of him. He opened his eyes to look at her. Her hazel green eyes looking into his. His hand once again found her hair. It stuck itself permanently there. "What do you want to do today?" He didn't have a clue. His mind was elsewhere. He really didn't want to do anything. She kissed him. Her body pressing against his.

Her legs entwined themselves with his. He groaned against her lips. He always groaned in the morning. It could mean anything from what she found out. Annoyed at being woken up. Pleasure. Desire. Not wanting to be awake. All those things and more. He placed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I don't care." His voice was still hoarse and groggy. She lay against him. As if she had melted. That always happened with her. Whenever he stayed with her the morning after. If he stayed the morning after. Usually he'd be the first one to get up. Have breakfast. Leave her before she even awoke. Before she could even say goodbye. But he stayed. She was the one who had woken him up this time. He didn't have a job to attend to. Neither did she. Not a single hunt to go on. Now he had to spend the day with her. Whether he liked it or not. "Are you going to get dressed?" She kissed him again. Placing tiny kisses over his lips. Continuously. His arm moved to wrap itself around her. Did he have to?

He couldn't be bothered. He really couldn't. He didn't even want to answer her question. "Do I have to?" She smirked against his lips. She knew what that meant. He wanted to do it again. So did she. But not right now. Maybe later. She rolled off him. He was a little surprised. "Bitch." He rolled over. Her back was facing him. At least she wasn't crying anymore. His arm snaked itself around her. He pulled her closer to him. "You want to see me naked." He kissed her exposed neck. She just managed to keep herself from moaning. She rolled over to look at him. "Just don't walk around the house naked." She kissed him gently and longingly, before she pulled herself out of bed. She put on her bra. Her boy-legs. She noticed from the corner of her eye that Dean had also gotten out of bed.

He threw on his boxers. His jeans. He approached her. She couldn't even get properly dressed because he had stopped her. He was still horny. Sleep didn't stop him. He wasn't worn out anymore. She damned his parents sometimes. Not really. Mostly his DNA and genes. He had so much energy it wasn't funny. He could keep going if he wanted to. Even if he hadn't slept for days or was on the brink of death. He'd still be horny. Damn him. He wrapped his arms around her. He sat down on the end of the bed. His hands on her hips. Yep. He'd left her a bruise. Two in fact. On both hips. And on her arms. Whoops. She sat down on his lap. Her legs straddling his hips. Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck. She winced slightly. She was fragile. He had to be gentle with her.

He pulled her closer. If that were possible. He kissed the crook of her neck. "Do you have anything planned for today?" She felt his lips move against her skin. She merely shook her head. She hardly planned anything. She could hardly even plan her life. He moved his face. He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. He loved her so much. She loved him so much. She returned the kiss. Moaning against his lips. The silence ended. Music eliminated the silence. Pulling the two apart. She pried herself away from him. It was his cell phone. 'Hells Bells' by AC/DC. She found his cell phone in his jeans. She pulled it from one of the pockets. It was Sam. Dean's younger brother. He watched her slide it up. Talk to his younger sibling. Make conversation.

He sighed. He ran a hand through his short hair. What did he want? Sam was going to give him shit now. And for a long time to come. He knew what the two had gotten up to the night before. She gave it away by answering his phone. Great. She slid his phone shut. She approached him and handed him his cell phone. She smiled. She helped him to his feet. "We've got a hunt." They had a hunt. Now he couldn't get rid of her. Leave her behind on her own. He had to go find his clothes. His bloodstained, dirt-stained, sweat stained clothes. She watched him throw on his jeans. Grab his black shirt from the bathroom. She really should've washed it. He couldn't care less. He left the room. She throw on a white, tight tank top. Skinny legged jeans. A black jacket. A pair of socks. Her favourite black, knee high boots. She grabbed her cell phone. She left her bedroom.

She found Dean in the kitchen. He threw on his brown leather jacket. He was now ready to go. She was too. She approached him. Placing a soft kiss on his lips. Now she had to know. What she didn't get to ask him the night before. Something to do with those three words. Usually they were said too much. And sometimes not enough. In this case, not at all. It was now or never. "Dean." She pulled away. He looked into her hazel green eyes. His hands resting on her hips. "I need to know. I need- do you..." The words wouldn't come. They couldn't form in her mouth. She hated herself sometimes. This was important. Maybe the most important moment in her entire life. "Carli." She looked into his hazel eyes. He knew what she was going to say. She loved him for it. He leaned forward. His face next to her own. What was he going to say? She held her breath. He could feel it.

"I love you." Those three words. She wanted tears to well up in her eyes. But they didn't come. She was overwhelmed with happiness. He hardly said those words to anyone. Unless you meant something to him. She obviously meant something to him. She jumped up. He easily caught her. Holding her body against his own. Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck. She was like a leech. One that was never going to go away. Never. She kissed him. His strong arms wrapped around her waist. Her body. He kissed her back. He loved her so much. She was the only thing worth living for. Besides his younger brother. She smiled against his lips. That was all she needed to know. Everything she needed to know. "I love you." What he wanted to hear. He felt like the luckiest man alive. She was like him in a way. Not saying those three words unless you truly meant it. Like now.

She wrapped her legs around his waist. Straddling his waist. Her tongue passed his lips. Fighting for dominance. Why did Sam have to call? Now he didn't want to leave. She didn't want to leave. But duty called. Unfortunately. His younger brother needed him. No. Not just him. Them. Both him and Carli. He wasn't going to leave her behind. Not this time. She was going to stay in his sight at all times. And vice versa.

"I love you."

My very first one-shot. I hope you all liked it. I just thought I'd take a llittle break from my other story, and this one came into mind. I just think it's very, very long though. But oh well. All I can say is that this one-shot involved a lot of self-doubt, love and sex. I guess you guys noticed that in the first place. Anyway, please R&R!