Buy Me Dinner First [Dean Winchester x Reader]

26} Desires

Sensitive themes ahead so trigger warning for suicide and depression. If you do suffer from either of these tendencies, please seek help - if you don't want to talk to your family or an organisation then my figurative door is always open and I'm always happy to talk.

Just remember to always keep fighting.

Anyway, enjoy!

EDIT- PLOTHOLE SORTA FIXED - some people were asking why Dean and the reader went from boinking in a motel to the distance between them in this chapter so hopefully this is more coherent.

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"Sorry, they what now?" Sam asks incredulously from the driver's seat, not quite believing the news report you're reading to him from the back of the car.

"They ate each other, I got more info from the secure police database and the coroners report says that their stomachs were full of each other's flesh and they both had significant body mass missing." You share all the gory details with maybe a little too much enthusiasm considering two people are dead already, enjoying the disgusted frown on Sam's face.

"And you're sure this is our thing because...?" He asks, not too keen on getting up close and personal to the victims this time.

"Oh, I'm sorry Sam, I forgot it's completely normal to feast on the flesh of your date at the end of the night, it's probably just some vore fetishist freaks who got out of hand, chalk this one up to humans Detective." Sarcasm dripping from your voice, you lean forwards to rest your arms against the front seat.

"Point taken. Let's find a hotel and we can sort out this mess in the morning, sound good Dean?" Sam looks worriedly at his brother as he snaps out of his daze and nods along, and you can't help but share Sam's concern.

He's been out of it since yesterday and you know you've missed a lot of the action lately but you wonder what's gotten him acting like this. He's usually so focused and driven, now he's barely with it. In a more concerning development, he hasn't talked to you very much since the night you broke into the observatory. Hasn't kissed you, hasn't held your hand. Hasn't even looked you in the eye. You wonder if you've done something to piss him off.

"Sounds awesome, Sam." Dean grunts, spotting a sign for a motel a few blocks over and following them to the five star, luxury complex of the NightOwl Motel, complete with broken ventilation, creaky pipes and shady clientele. Looks like home.

Sam heads inside to book a room whilst you get out of the car and stretch your aching limbs, mostly from the car journey but also left over pains from your little coma a few days ago. Dean also gets out to stretch his arms and you smile at him carefully, not knowing whether or not you should ask about his mood or just leave it alone.

"You ok, Dean?" Deciding to ask casually, you keep the car between you and watch him carefully as his eyes dance over yours, squinting in the late evening sun as he tries to make up his mind what he wants to say.

"I think we should slow down," he admits, not sure how to tell you what he wants to say but strangely not feeling any guilt as your face sinks in shock. You don't know how to respond to that anyway but before you can even try, Sam returns and you're once again silent.

"Sorry, just one room left," Sam interrupts, brandishing the key for the only room with an apologetic look on his face.

"No worries, I'll take the couch," you mutter, taking the key and your duffel before leaving both boys behind in favour of having a shower.