His Special Girl (Dean x Reader)

time to visit

Dean was tired.

Damn tired.

After leaving Sam, he had been on the road for weeks, trying to find anything on Gadreel and Metatron. Cas was a no show and Crowley was about the same. Dean was never one to give up on something, but after all the sleepless nights and endless amounts of alchohol- he knew he needed a break. He needed somewhere to relax and unwind- an anchor even; something to keep him from winding up lost within himself.

What, or who better, than you?

Dean hadn't seen you for a few months now. With him trying to take care of Sam and the tablets, he didn't have much time to hang around or chat unless he ran into you on hunt.

Of course, this truly did upset Dean. You had been close friends with the boys since meeting them in a highschool they were going to for just a few weeks. Ironically, your father being a hunter, had ran into John and worked with him on the case, leaving you with a younger Sam and a rebellious teen-Dean who was surprisingly really nice to you.

You were never a small girl. When you were younger, it bothered you immensely. Everyone knows teens are not the most polite people. And in highschool you could barely get by in a day without someone giving you a disgusted look, or an unpleasant remark. Especially with moving around so much, eyes seemed to have always been on you. You were shy and tense- angry with your father for moving you around so much after the death of your mother and younger brother. Sam, being four years younger than you, couldn't do much to cheer you up. However, when you ran into the Winchesters, or your father luckily worked a case with their dad, Dean would always want to hang out with you.

You never knew this, but Dean had always thought you were beautiful. You blossomed into a wonderful, witty, intellgent confident hunter, and young woman. Dean practically drooled over you every time he saw you.

Dean had always been a sucker for curves, and needless to say you had them in all the right places. Dean had never had an eye for bigger girls, but he wasn't shallow either; there was just something about you. An insatiable aura surrounding you to the point where it was basically tangent to him. He didn't care that you had a belly too. He didn't care about the stretch marks that cascaded your body (he had seen you almost completely bare numerous times, and he wasn't gonna lie- he basically memorized every little detail he could) and he surely didn't care what other people thought about you. You were perfect.

You shared the same love he had for rock n' roll- well, more or so, metal. You lived for Robert Plant's voice and Jimmy Page's guitar solos. Free will guided you through your every day life. Your sense of humor and your spunk attracted people to you everywhere you went. Dean was proud of the woman you had become.

Whilst thinking about you, Dean realized his pants had tightened significantly in his groin region. His cheeks flushed red as he was sitting in baby in a burger joint's parking lot, looking around him before starting the car.

"Yeah, I need to get it together," he mumbled.