𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍! Never once in his life had Dean looked at a girl’s assets for more than three seconds— first to register them, second to admire them and third to take one more peek before looking away. But with a lady like you as his girl? Well, he couldn’t take his eyes off you— you were every bit of his wildest dreams packed into one person, and he’d be damned if he saw anything but that. Sammy called him whipped, but let him, cause he ain’t gonna stop for the world.

Nope.

You were his girlfriend of a few years — the world of hunting didn’t exactly leave room to pop the big question — and you sometimes dropped good sights for him. Y’know, like how you’d straighten up after ganking a monster and your clothes would be all bloody, the look in your eyes was so hot.

Speaking of hunts, you’d both come back from one and he’d just come from a good slice of pie, when he found the real treat: you, the whole damn cake lying on his bed, on your stomach. A book was in your hands, but all he could focus on was that glorious ass of yours that he loved to compliment you on every time he saw it, and even now was no exception. He was your biggest hypeman.

“Woah, there,” He grinned, and yeah, he had a habit of talking to your, well, assets like they were a separate entity— he just couldn’t help it, ok, you were that sexy. He still didn’t know how he scored a smokin’ hot girl like you, it was a miracle.

“Well, hello, sexy.” Dean chuckled, looking pointedly from your eyes to your ass and wiggling his eyebrows— such a goof, you weren’t a stranger to these moments. He couldn’t help but look over you, and how damn gorgeous you were— he thought your ass was the whole damn buffet. Woah.

Like, hot damn, he’d never seen a woman as fine as you, in both personality and looks, and yeah, he totally wasn’t a sucker for you. No, he was, he really was a whipped man for you.