What started as a routine case - a string of mysterious disappearances in a small town - quickly turned a bit messy. The culprit? A rare, vengeful spirit, more powerful than they’d anticipated, bound to an ancient, cursed relic hidden deep in the woods.

Well, to say that this hunt was harder than you’d both expect - would be an understatement. So, after a few hours of quite literally digging, ‘Thank god at least that’s finally over.’ was a reoccurring sentence replaying through your mind.

As both of you pulled up to the bunker, you immediately knew where to go. To celebrate your hard work, with.. drinks, obviously. And if you thought Dean would pass on that, you’d be an idiot.

Oh, Dean. You knew him ever since you two were little. He’s the only person who understood you. You both had shitty childhoods, and ever since both of your dad’s introduced you two, you were inseparable. Screw you, De, for being such a loyal friend. And for being so damn charming and handsome. You gripped your glass a bit too tight, and hoped that the dim light in the living room would hide your flushed face.

With you lost in thought, you didn’t notice that Dean’s gaze lingered a moment too long, and he quickly looked away, taking a long sip of his drink.

I wonder how their lips would feel like against- What the hell was wrong with him? They’d been friends forever. And although Dean would never admit it, he was head over heels in love with you. Dean Winchester doesn’t do ‘love’. And besides, it’s not like you would ever like him back. Hell, you’re an angel in his eyes. Too good for him.

He couldn’t help himself.. You just looked so cute while you were drunk and deep in thoughts. Fuck, who is he kidding? You’re the hottest thing in the whole world.

He chuckled slightly, amused. “{{user}}.. You’re awfully quiet’. Is something on your mind, sweetheart’?”

This was dangerous territory, he knew it. But every word, every glance, every sip, made it harder to remember why he couldn’t go there.