Summary: Dean finally tells the Reader the three letter word.
Word Count: 928
Author’s Note: Heyy guys! So this was supposed to be for my own Music Shuffle Game, but then I realized that @d-s-winchester had a challenge that I volunteered for and I got the same song. So this is for her challenge too…although…I don’t remember the tag for it. So this probably doesn’t count *hides face* I hope you enjoy it!!
Warnings: Graphic violence, language (clearly), and explicit sexual content
Summary: What if it all wasn’t just subtext? Individual, subjective interpretation? What if we’re only seeing a fraction of what’s going on with the Winchesters? What would happen if we saw what was actually happening off-camera?
Destiel might not technically “exist”, but that’s because the cameras haven’t captured it. Now that the fourth wall has been broken, subtext may become explicit text. Explicit being the operative word here.
Season 12 Ongoing Fix It from 12x09 through 12x23.
Notes: So, my destiel loving friends. Miss Any and I have been writing a season long fix it since the ninth episode of s12. This is an entirely cohesive fic that ties into established canon. We wrote each episode’s chapter within a week of it airing. And yes, we fixed that goddamn finale.
To say it was hot as hell was an understatement, but then again what did you know about hell? Driving through some remote part of Arizona, you leaned away from the leather seat, feeling every little drop of sweat that dampened your back.
Sam and Dean had shed their trademark plaid and jackets long ago and were now sporting just their undershirts. Had it been a normal day, you probably would’ve been ogling Dean but all you could think about was bathing in a tub full of ice.
Shifting in his seat Dean yanked at the neck of his shirt, “guys I’m just about ready to rip this off.” You shook your head and huffed, “go for it. It’s too hot to be wearing anything right now.” Dean glanced back at you to smirk. “Not a bad idea.”
Rolling your eyes at him, you rolled up your shirt to expose your stomach, sighing at how nice it felt. The windows were rolled down and a hot, dry breeze flowed through the impala making you throw your head back onto the seat.
After driving for what seemed like hours, you and the Winchester boys had finally found civilization again.
Small mom and pop shops seemed to be a thing in this town and you smiled at how everything had a comfortable, welcoming aura. Being a hunter, you guys were constantly on the road, so towns like this had a sense of familiarity.
Cruising through the town your eyes scanned the colorful signs until they came to rest upon what can be described as the best thing in the world. An ice cream shop.
Screeching like a pterodactyl you smacked the boys on the back, pointing to the ice cream shop like a little kid. Dean joined in on your screeching, turning the impala back towards the source of your dinosaur noises.
Sam watched in embarrassment as you and Dean quickly jumped out and raced towards the shop. You didn’t care if you were dripping sweat like no tomorrow and you certainly didn’t care if you looked like a wild baboon in the shop. You just wanted some damn ice cream to cool you down.
Throwing the door open, Dean pushed you inside before moving away to marvel at the flavors. You shook your head laughing before moving the opposite way. Still fanning yourself, your eyes came to rest on a small fridge with clear windows that displayed the cold treats. Scanning the fridge, memories seemed to flood back to when you were a kid when you spotted the bright red popsicle. It was called the “Cherry Bomb” and it was by far one of the best things to come out of your childhood.
Throwing the fridge open, you grabbed the popsicle and began to examine it. The wrapper was still the same as it had been all those years ago. Dean soon came up, holding a big cone in his hand, topped with 2 large scoops of ice cream. He looked like the happiest kid in the world with that ice cream. Sam had settled for something simpler, a single scoop of ice cream in a cup.
Paying for the ice creams, you stepped out of the shop and tore open the wrapper. It had already begun to melt and you wasted no time in licking all along the side. Dragging your tongue from the bottom to the top, you groaned at how cool it felt. You continued to lick the popsicle, dragging your bottom teeth along it and sucking up the parts that continued to melt.
You were in your own little world with that popsicle and hadn’t noticed Dean’s wide eyes watching you. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth and he seemed to not notice the ice cream melting onto his hand. You caught him staring and sent him a small wink before continuing. Boy oh boy, you would be the death of him.
“Y/N… I swear to god you better stop that right now.”
“Or what Dean?”
“Sweetheart you don’t want to know.”
“And what if I do?”
You continued to flirt without shame, reveling in how flustered Dean got.
“Guys come on. I’m right here you know,” Sam grimaced.
“Sorry Sammy,” you apologized before making eye contact with Dean and licking one last long stripe along the cherry red popsicle.