supernastural

Request: Illustrate the Point

Request: Yay requests are open! Can I request a Deanxreader imagine where she’s plus size and has a huge crush on Dean, but also very low self esteem. And he finds out somehow and it’s super fluffy with them?

Word Count: 947

Here it is, I hope you like it! Thanks!<3

You sigh at your appearance- it’ll do, you suppose.

You’ve never been confident in your appearance. Too little bulk in some places, too much in others. Never feeling proportional, never feeling right. Sometimes you tell yourself that you’re over it, that you’re fine with the way you look, but then you catch a glimpse of yourself and that petty, annoying little voice somewhere in the back of your mind screams, Annoying, arrogant, fat.

You have to go out to a fancier party tonight- it’s not quite a bow-tie event, but it requires a little more effort than jeans and flannel. So, dress’ll have to do.

It’s not that it looks bad, as such. It just feels like it clings to all the wrong areas. You slip into the plain, flat shoes, and head out of your room. Sam’s there, but he’s pretty preoccupied with plans and papers and books, or something like that. You take a sip of the coffee you left, finishing it off- careful not to smudge your lipstick; something you don’t wear often either.

“Ready to go?” Dean asks from behind you. You turn on your heel, nodding. He, however, in his perfectly fitting suit, stops for a moment. “Hey, woah, you look amazing.” He says honestly.

You feel your heart jump for a split second before you realise, He wouldn’t ever like me. I’m not one of those skinny, pretty girls he looks for in bars.

It sure does suck, liking a guy you just know would and could never like you back.

“Thanks. You, too.” You offer a small smile, hiding the pink that’s quickly covering your cheeks.

He smiles, offering you an arm. Your eyes widen, but you take it nonetheless. You’re oblivious to it, but he looks down at you and smiles.

The drive to the event is mostly quiet, apart from Dean’s tunes blasting through the car. You don’t mind, you enjoy watching him tapping on the wheel, bobbing his head in time with the songs he sings along to, sometimes under his breath, and sometimes, belting them out like no-one’s watching.

God, that sounds creepy.

The party is, admittedly, amazing. You get in with sneakily forged invitations. A crystal chandelier shimmers gently above you both, and although people aren’t quite in evening gowns, the atmosphere is nicely civilised and sophisticated, unlike many bars you’ve visited in the past.

“Alright, remember- green tie, blonde hair, tattoo up his arm and onto his back, if you can see it.” Dean reminds you both, describing the vampire you’re trying to find. You and Sam nod, then the three of you split up.

After wandering around the floor for about an hour, however, there’s no sign of the guy in question. The guys, when you meet up by the bar, haven’t seen him either.

“Maybe he found another meatsuit.” You suggest lowly, all too aware of the people you’re surrounded by.

“Possibly, I think this is his third already. Must be trying to protect himself with a new face each time.” Dean narrows his eyes, looking around the room. “Dammit!”

You and Sam sigh in unison.

“We may as well stay for a while, right?” You offer, “We deserve a few hours off. We’re back to square one and there’s no point in starting investigating at this time of night.”

The clock, as if on cue, chimes eleven, and you shrug, as if to illustrate your point.

“There’ll be no missing person report, if the meatsuit’s been changed in the past few hours, and if it’s staying with the family, then they won’t know he’s acting weird just yet. There’s nothing we can do.” Sam agrees, taking a sip of the champagne he has in his hand.

“Fine, then.” Dean groans, clearly frustrated, “First thing in the morning…”

“We’re back onto it.” You finish, and he nods.

“Fine, then. Might as well enjoy it, it took enough effort to get into this place.” He downs the beer, and glances around the room, “Wanna dance?”

“Who, me?” You ask, taken a little aback.

“Well, I ain’t talking to Sam.” Dean grins, and you laugh.

“Hey, you never know. I don’t really dance, though. Sorry.”

“Me neither. We’ll go look like idiots together.” He says with a grin, and you laugh.

“Hey, it’s worth a shot. Alright.” You smile as he grabs your hand, leading you onto the floor cleared for dancing. You glance around at the couples surrounding you, eagerly bopping to the music. You smile as Dean takes your hand, swinging it in time to the quick beat.

It’s slightly awkward but also nice, in a way. Then, the music changes. It’s sudden, but the bright, exciting beat turns quickly to a slower, more gentle song. Dean hesitates for a second, before following the motions of the couples around you and looping his arms around your waist. You follow suit, hands going to rest on his shoulders. He smiles down at you.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” He says quietly. You shrug.

“No I’m not. Not really.”

“What are you talking about?” His nose crunches up and you can’t help but laugh slightly.

“I just… I’m not skinny and perfect like all the other girls you’d ever even look at.” You shrug, “I’m just not.”

“Sure, you’re not.” He says, one hand moving to cup your cheek, “You’re so much better than they are. More beautiful, much more beautiful than any of those girls.”

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He says firmly, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, as if to illustrate his point further.

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