505- Arctic monkeys
Life is simple in the moonlight- The strokes
Chocolate- The 1975
Face it- Beach fossils
Tyrants- Catfish and the bottlemen
Coming of age- Foster the people
Read my mind- The killers
Got no love- The kooks
Thread the needle- The griswolds
Stand on the horizon- Franz Ferdinand
Afterlife- Arcade fire
Weight of love- The black keys
Hold back the river- James Bay
Anna sun- Walk the moon
Undercover Martyn- Two door cinema club
Step- Vampire weekend
Spanish sahara- Foals
My love- Circa waves
Isabel- The wombats
Miracle aligner- The last shadow puppets
Tides- The xx
Clearest blue- CHVRCHES
About you- San cisco
Ace in the hole- Saint motel
Slow life- Of monsters and men
Single- The neighbourhood
Waves -Sundara karma
A rush of blood- Coasts
A/N 1: I have a MAJOR Purgatory!Dean problem. This quote from the show: “It was blood, messy…. But there was something about being there… it felt pure.” His pure and raw approach to hunting while there obviously made me think about what his approach to sex would be while there. I mean look at this, how can your mind go anywhere else?
A/N 2: Bolded text denotes dialogue from the show, credit goes to the writers.
Above gif is from Google Search. Gif below is from @canonspngifs The rest are from Google Search, credit goes to the owners.
Dean’s well muscled chest is pressed against your back. His fingers trace over the rise of your hips
and the fall of your waist. He plants
wet, kisses down the column of your neck to your shoulder.
“I could stay here like this forever, Y/N,” he murmurs drawing the lobe
of your ear between his lips.
“Mmm, me too,” you sigh. “But I
bet Sam would have something to say about that,” you roll towards him, running
your fingers through his hair.
You look up at Dean, but the room’s changed and he’s standing in front
of you. His green eyes are full of
sorrow as he steps closer to you.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says, tears filling his eyes.
“I know,” you say looking away, “just make it quick.”
“I love you.”
Razor sharp pain slices across your throat…
You wake up with a start.
“Whoa, cher,” Benny coos, “we
gotta move. You ok?”
“I’m fine,” you say pushing
yourself up. “What time is it?”
You grab your blade, Benny offers
you his hand, you take it and he pulls you up.
Together you make your way through the trees. You spend the night on the move. It’s safer to sleep during the day and be on
your feet at night. If it wasn’t for
Benny, you would’ve been dead-dead a long time ago. His hand is on the small of your back, a sigh
escapes your lips at the safety and comfort it provides.