You and Dean had been dating for a good while now, living in the bunker with Sam. You two spent more time together than ever, so much so that Sam almost didn’t react anymore when finding you and Dean making out on the couch. Not like it mattered much, you found him with his own partner doing the same occasionally.

It was late, maybe 6:30 PM. You were in the kitchen making dinner, Dean somewhere else off in the bunker, and Sam probably in the library. You were wearing one of Dean’s old shirts; a black one with a Chevy Impala printed on the front. Dean called it his baby shirt, and gave it to you a few months back. Along with that, you wore a pair of black shorts and a white pair of socks. It wasn’t like you’d be going anywhere this late anyways.

Within a few minutes, Dean walked into the kitchen, coming up behind you and grabbing your ass lightly like it was nothing, which it partially wasn’t because it happened so often.

“You look nice in that.” Dean hummed, slipping an arm around your waist as you cooked. “But, I have to admit, it’d look better on the floor of my room. Or any room, if I’m going to be honest.”