“Dean,” you whispered. He looked up at you from the lore book in front of him, his green eyes boring into yours.
“What’s up sweetheart?” he asked, reaching for his glass of whiskey on the table. You watched him swirl the amber liquid in his glass before downing the rest, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“Can we take a break?” you inquired. Your eyes were tired, your were starving and you had the worse headache from reading for the last five hours. You wanted nothing more than to eat a good juicy burger and to curl up on the couch watching Dean’s favourite western. Who cared about research?
“What kind of break are we talking?” he winked, implying just that. You shook your head and for the first time a smile rose on your lips.
“Food, and maybe a movie?” you grinned.
“You want me to make you dinner and then cuddle with me afterwards?” He smirked and you shook your head. You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms.
“I need a hug, Dean,” you frowned, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.
“Do you now?” he raised his eye brow. “You want to feel my arms wrapped around you, holding you to my body nice and snuggly?” You nodded your head. You felt kind of stupid. You were a badass hunter who could knock anything on the ground with ease and here you were practically seconds away from begging him to put his arms around you. You looked down on the table, slightly ashamed of yourself right now. “Sweetheart?” You looked up to see Dean standing next to you, a small smile on his lips as he held his hand out for you to take.
The second your hand touched his, he pulled you up to a stand position before immediately wrapping his strong arms around you. You practically melted into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You could smell the strong scent of his cologne, mixed with gunpowder and his leather jacket. He smelled like home.
“Sometimes I need a hug too,” he assured you, kissing the top of your head.