Imagine Dean pours all of his love and passion for you in a kiss.
“Y/N!” Dean bellowed, frantically looking for you. The hunt had just finished and as Sam tried to clean up the scene, Dean had gone searching. The last time he had seen you, one of the demons had been pinning you to the floor, a knife to your throat.
“Dean!” you gasped, getting up from the floor. Even though you thought the demon had you, there was a moment in which it got distracted and you had used it to your advantage, plunging Ruby’s knife into its chest.
“You’re alright,” he grinned. Before you could reply, he strode over to you, cupping your face and crashing his lips down on yours. He had let this go on for way too long, had denied his feelings for you at every turn, and it was about time he owned up to them.
When he pulled away, you stood stunned, eyes wide and jaw slack.
“Come here,” he muttered, pulling you back in again. This time, you did more than kiss back.