His Special Girl (Dean x Reader)

a warm reunion

Dean had been on the road for about 3 hours, and he was finally at your home.

Seeing your car in the driveway, he knew you were there, a smile gracing his face at the thought of finally being able to see you again.

Its only been a few months dude, he thought to himself.

He knocked on the door heavily, eager to see you. He tried to keep the smile away from his features but his resolve faded as soon as the door swung open.

"Dean?!" You wrapped your arms around him, inhaling the smell of whiskey and gunpowder- the smell of a Winchester. It smelled like euphoria to you. Although you had to admit him showing up out of the blue was a complete surprise, it wasn't an unpleasant one.

"What the hell brought you here? There a case I don't know about?" You stepped aside to let him in. He kicked his boots off and put his jacket in your hallway closet, something he would do if planning on staying for a while. You looked out the door into the Impala; no Sam. Weird.

"Nah, no case. I just missed ya, sweetheart," he spoke while walking towards you, engulfing you into another hug, chin resting upon the top of your head.

"Want some beer?" You mumbled into his chest. Dean was in the kitchen before you could even blink, sitting himself atop the counter like a little boy. You gave him a once over; he still looked just as divine as he did the last time you saw him, and every time before that.

Except this time, his face was empty. His demeanor wasn't confident- there was this uncertainty in move he made. You knew something was wrong, you just didn't know if he wanted to talk about it.

"So, how's Sam?" He visibly flinched at the mention of his brother and his smile almost immediately faltered. Tugging on his bottom lip, his thumbs circling each other, he looked at you with heartbroken eyes.

"I screwed up real bad, Y/n. And I was just wondering if you'd let me annoy you for like a week, maybe two. I won't be here all day of course, I'll be doing research and I'll be hunting. I just need a place to be and I don't want a hotel," he spoke gently.

You took him by the hand and led him to the living room to sit with you. You didn't ask anymore questions, didn't pester the problem, just turned on the TV and handed him the remote. You got up and brought him a beer and sandwich back, telling him he'd always be welcome to stay with you.

---

A few hours had passsed now, the two of you comfortably resting on the couch, your legs in his lap, his arms on top, fingers softly gliding across your skin. You smiled at the contact; you had a bond with Dean that was so strong you didn't even understand it at times.

Sometimes, you two would be so close to kissing, or one of you would be on the brink of admitting true feelings, but something always got in the way of that. You had no idea how much Dean liked you, and he vice versa. Sam had told the both of you time and time again to get the tension out of the way, it was bad luck for hunts. Every time Sam would mentioned Dean truly liked you, you'd just roll your eyes. You were confident, but, Dean? Dean Winchester?? Yeah right.

Yawning, you stretched your hands over your head, only for your shirt (more like crop top- Dean had dropped in on a lazy day, you were dressed in a crop top and pajama pants) to come up and completely expose your tummy and a bit of your bra. You had completely forgotten your attire, and when you looked at Dean, he looked as if he had seen you entirely naked.

Your face flushed red and so did his, he was looking anywhere but you. He had a grip on your leg now, and it was getting tighter by the second. You tried to move your leg a bit, but Dean gripped it tighter and bit back a groan- and that's when you feel it.

"Dean...? Are you..."

Before you got the chance to answer Dean had jumped up and started babbling about being sorry about making things awkward. He looked like he wanted to burst into tears. He thought he'd ruined your friendship.

To his ultimate surprise, you burst into laughter. He stood and looked at you in awe, joining you in laughter after a few seconds. He sat back down next you and let you pull yourself together.

"Dean, don't be sorry. I actually found that pretty damn cute," you said, followed with a giggle. He looked up at you, his pupils starting to expand, breath more shallow and uneven.

"Cute?" he spoke. "I just got a raging hard on from seeing your soft skin. Bits that I've seen, yet I still can't control myself," he ran his hands through his hair, smiling to himself. "I'm such a child."

Your giggling was cut short when you realized he in fact had ACTUALLY gotten rock hard over you. Was all the things that Sam had said previously, true?

"Dean..." He looked over to you, licking his lips, now covering his hard on, or as much of it as he could, with his hand. "Hm?" He responded.

"Uh... I don't want to make things even more weird but- Sam has told me things before, stuff about you... When I say that I mean stuff about you and me. You liking me. Do you like me, Dean?" You signed, surprised that the question you've been dreading came out a lot smoother than expected.

"Yeah, I do. A lot," he almost immediately answered. "God," he laughed, "you are so fucking beautiful. Even when we were teens I developed a small obsession for you. You're just everything I've ever wanted in a woman and more if I can be honest here. And if what I'm saying isn't registering, I'll just remove my hand so you can see how much I really do like ya," he was smirking now, and you fought with your brain- your eyes betrayed you however; you couldn't take your eyes off of Dean's crotch. You bit your lip and looked away, arousal creeping up on you faster than it ever had before.

"Baby girl?" Dean called out to you softly, rubbing his calloused thumb over your knuckles. "How do you feel about me?"

You decided it was now or never.

Hopping onto his lap, Dean's face was one of surprise, but when it clicked that you wanted to physically give him the answer, he all but growled and kissed you with a burning passion.

His soft, impeccable lips against yours was something you'd imagined time and time again, but nothing could compare to the real deal. He put his hands on your curvy waist, rubbing up and down softly, wanting to feel you all over. He was harder than he'd ever been in his entire life. Dean had fantasized about fucking you millions of times, and if it was about to happen, he wasn't going to stop it.

You pulled away for air, forehead resting against his. His breath was heavy, bottom lip caught between his teeth, he ground up against you, growling once more. Your head was reeling. You couldn't believe you were on his lap, making him act this way. You knew where this was going, where it needed to go and where it should have went after all these years.

"My room, Winchester."