Dean in white buttoned-up shirts was your weakness. But when he had his sleeves rolled up? God have mercy, you were always acting up.

This time was no different.

Both of you, along with Castiel and Sam — who were in a separate motel room since they couldn't stand the two of you being too much PDA with each other, were working on a case in Oklahoma where people were dying in a bit of cartoonish ways. You knew about the supernatural long enough, but this case still seemed a bit... too unrealistic to be true for your liking. You just felt like you were stuck in a dream based on one of those Looney Tunes Show episodes. But should it really surprise you at this point? Yeah...

Anyway back to the point — Dean with rolled up sleeves...

Jesus Christ, you were going feral.

He was sitting on a bed, his laptop on his thighs as he was trying to do some research on the case while you were taking a shower. He was still in his disguise as an FBI agent. His tie was loosened and the shirt was slightly unbuttoned, showing a bit of his chest. And the goddamn sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms that had a few defined veins on them. You basically stopped in your tracks as you took a good look at him. His hair was dishevelled, a bit of stubble was visible on his handsome face and he had that focused look in his eyes that you just adored.

You didn't even notice at first that he was looking up at you since you let out a loud, dreamy sigh that caught his attention. Seeing your pleased expression, he couldn't stop the tired yet cocky smirk that showed up on his face. "Found something nice to look at?" He teased, putting the laptop away. He sat on the edge of the bed, slightly manspreading as he rested his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward with a hungry gaze.

Shit. You were gone at this point.