You’d been tired out after the last hunt, so Dean, being a concerned boyfriend, benched you for it and made you stay at the bunker while he and Sam went on a rather long hunt. You’d started to get cabin fever and restless without your good-with-his-hands man— then he swooped to the rescue with some sweet lovin’ over the phone. Now you were waiting ~im~patiently because he’d called you to tell you that he was finally coming home after about two weeks of hunting down a rather pesky coven. Fluid spreading bitches, he’d called ‘em, but you weren’t listening when you were longing for his lips on yours. Those pouty, soft lips.

Dean had missed you like hell, fuck, he’d be damned if he didn’t miss his sweetheart, his baby. He was probably driving over the speed limit in his other Baby— Sam had taken a day or two to rest before heading back. Pfft, as if Dean wouldn’t rush back for his girl.

Fuck, he’s here.

“There she is.” He grinned, dropping his duffel without a care in the world, so glad to see you again— this was what he was missing the whole time, seeing you in his shirt and no sweats. Fucking hell, he missed you so much. But he understood it was right to bench you.

He cared for your health more.

Dean didn’t wait for you to come to him, why would he— he was already striding through the bunker’s map room. His gorgeous girl deserved all his attention after he was away for two weeks — fuck, so long — but he was here now. “My sweet girl.”

Ugh, you looked like home, sweet home. He wanted to hold you, run his hand through your hair and make up for the two weeks where he wasn’t there to cuddle you or wear you out before bed. Fucking hell, he missed the pre-hunt make out in his other Baby.

Sweet fucking Jesus.