I had some intense inspiration for this one. Dean Winchester tends to bring that out. One of those nights where if you stop, you know you won’t get it back, so I let this play out…
2600 words, some bad language, my attempt at smut (there’s a reason I don’t do this)
Dean had been quiet on the drive back to the motel. He had a weird look on his face that you couldn’t quite pin down. He pulled the Impala into the parking space and gave you a “lil help?” look. Reaching over you moved the gear selector into park for him. He handed you the room key with his left hand. A chunk of…something was sticking out of his right arm and doing anything with that arm was difficult.
Ellen's Bar and Tab 