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Dean x Reader _
Dean Winchester was nothing if not a man of variety, especially in the way he showed his affection for you. For instance, the way he kisses you.
Dean's kisses weren't just kisses. They were so much more than just simple displays of affection. They were emotions personified. You knew him like the back of your hand and you could tell exactly how he was feeling just by the way his lips touched yours.
There were the morning kisses, the ones that started your day perfectly. Kisses that tasted of dry lips and morning breath but you were so wrapped up in the way his hands roamed your body that you couldn't bring yourself to care. It was in these kisses that Dean would smile, his nose rubbing yours as he kissed every inch of your perfect lips and murmured, "Good morning, I love you" into your mouth over and over again like a mantra; like a prayer.
There were the steamy kisses, the ones that happened under the running water of the shower after a rough hunt. His hands would be all over your wet skin; touching, exploring, feeling. He would pepper kisses to your shoulders and your face, gentle murmurs of "You're so beautiful" and "You're perfect" said against your warm skin as he caressed every bump, every scar, every freckle and mole. Eventually, you would guide his face back up to yours and catch his lips in your own, your teeth nibbling at his bottom lip and your lips spreading into a grin when he would moan into your mouth. These kisses were the ones that usually led to the two of you using up all the hot water and a complaining Sam Winchester afterwards.
There were the forehead kisses that the two of you shared like the air you breathe. These were the softer kisses that were planted on each other during long nights of research when you were about to hit the floor and right before you went into a hunt where you didn't know if you'd come back out in one piece. There were times after hunts when you would come home absolutely wrecked and there was nothing more secure to you than the feeling of Dean's warm palms framing your face and his soft lips against your skin.
There were the soft kisses that Dean peppered to your neck that made you giggle, the ones that he would drag out until you couldn't breathe just so he could hear your laugh. Sometimes, when the two of you were laying in bed after making love, you would lie on his chest and count the freckles on his nose, peppering gentle kisses to his jaw as your heart swelled with joy when he smiled in response.
Lastly, there were the long kisses, the ones you gave each other before one of you left for a hunt or the ones you gave each other when you returned. These were the kisses that screamed please come home and I'm so glad you're okay each time your lips met. You would hold each other close, pouring every emotion, every unspoken word, everything you were feeling and thinking into each other as your lips moved fluidly together. These kisses were bittersweet and although they were long, they were never long enough for your satisfaction. You would always part wanting more.
Dean Winchester was nothing if not a man of variety. His kisses weren't just simple displays of affection. They told you everything he didn't say or couldn't say. They told you everything he was feeling at that moment. They told you that he loved you. And you wouldn't trade him for anything.
