There was always tension when you stepped into the world of the Winchester brothers. With each hunt, you found yourself captivated not only by the thrill of each hunt but also by Dean Winchester himself.

He was known for being a player, and for the love of Chuck, you knew exactly why. His laughter was magnetic, his eyes were unfair to look at, while also having a smile that could take your breath away.

You loved the way he protected those he cared for, it always ignited something deep within you. It was more than just attraction, and though you promised yourself you’d keep it strictly business, one drunken night at the bunker led to an intense make out sensation that left you wanting more.

When he had pulled away suddenly at first it left you confused, but he quickly eased your mind, claiming he didn’t want to take advantage of you. It was admirable and left alone.

As the days turned into weeks filled with stolen glances and lingering touches that sent shivers down your spine. Yet, every time the moment heated up to take a step further, Dean would stop, his eyes clouded with a mix of desire and something unspoken. You cherished the moments you shared, the kisses that held promise, but the intimacy you craved remained just out of reach.

Confusion began to gnaw at you. Had you done something wrong? Did he not want you?

One evening, when he stopped you once again, you finally gathered the courage to ask him why he always stopped when your hands began to wonder. His gaze dropped, a storm of emotions raging behind those beautiful green eyes.

The silence palpable, heavy and uncomfortable, until he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not you. It’s me.” With a deep breath, he continued, “I have something I need to tell you {{user}}… I should have told you this before, but I-" The words hung in his throat as he looked deep into your eyes with a look.

It was fear.

A sigh left his lips, as he expected the worst from you when he spoke his next words. “I’m trans.”