I absolutely loved your last Dean story!! I was wondering if you would be able to write about a reader who has never been able to finish, with herself or anyone else, and dean helps her learn.
Beautiful writing!
I would've done that sober
Pairing: Dean Di Laurentis x childhood best friend!reader
โก Main Index | โก Archive for Earth-66
a/n: Well that was long, but such a delight to write and soooo so sexy
Classification: Smut +18 | Talks of ex's and sexual dysfunction/insecurity, emotional vulnerability, recreational drug use (NOT DURING SEX), dry humping/grinding, getting caught, fingering, tension and arousal descriptions, orgasm, praise and partial undressing/lingerie.
Word count: 12k
Divider by me ;)
You sat across from the fire pit in the boysโ backyard, elbows resting on the armrests of your chair while the flames cracked softly in front of you both. The night air had turned colder hours ago, but neither of you had gone inside. Dean kept talking and you kept letting him or trying to.
Every time he opened his mouth, you exhaled slowly through your nose as if physically releasing air might stop you from interrupting him.
โHeโs an arrogant son of a bitch,โ Dean repeated for probably the fifth time that night. He took another drag from the blunt before passing it toward you, smoke curling past his lips as he leaned back deeper into the chair.
โThatโs what pisses me off the most,โ he continued, staring hard into the fire like your ex-boyfriend personally offended him. โHe had no clue what he was doing in the relationship from day one and still had the confidence to ask you out.โ His jaw tightened slightly. โUsually I respect delusion like that, but that guyโs a fucking disaster.โ
You accepted the blunt with a quiet sigh.
Dean had been ranting for nearly a week straight now. Anyone overhearing him wouldโve assumed heโd been the one publicly dumped in the cafeteria instead of you but heโd been there when it happened, front row seats to your ex fumbling through excuses while half your friends sat frozen around the table pretending not to listen. Maybe that was enough for Dean.
Now, instead of being out partying with the rest of the team, he sat outside with you night after night, sharing weed and acting personally victimized by your breakup.
โDean,โ you finally interrupted, tone firm.
He stopped talking immediately.
You inhaled slowly before looking over at him through the smoke, holding his gaze while you exhaled. โItโs okay.โ
Deanโs expression flattened instantly. โWe have very different definitions of okay.โ
His eyes drifted back toward the fire for a second, replaying the memory again. You could practically see it happening behind his eyes, the cafeteria, your expression and your ex stumbling through his speech.
โYou shouldโve let me talk to him,โ he muttered.
โWhat good would that have done?โ You brought the blunt back to your lips, inhaling before handing it over again. โItโs not his fault.โ
Deanโs head snapped toward you so fast he nearly dropped the thing. โThe fuck does that mean?โ
You almost rolled your eyes at the offense in his tone. Instead, you looked away toward the fire again, watching orange light flicker against the patio stones.
โIโm lost here,โ he scoffed. โIs being wrapped around another girl at a party three hours after dumping you not a dick move now?โ
A laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it. โDean,โ you said gently, finally turning your head toward him again. โI think Iโm the only person who wasnโt surprised by the breakup.โ
His brows furrowed.
You shrugged one shoulder lightly. โHe just beat me to it.โ
โOh.โ The word left him quietly. Dean looked away immediately afterward, dragging a hand over his mouth while he gathered his thoughts before glancing back at you. โThatโs the first time Iโm hearing about that.โ
He passed the blunt over again.
You took it carefully, staring down at it between your fingers for a second before answering.
โYeah, well...โ You inhaled deeply, smoke burning pleasantly in your lungs before you let it back out slowly. โYouโve got other business to worry about.โ
Dean huffed out a laugh instantly. โYou are my business.โ The certainty in his voice made your lips curl before you could stop them. โSo start talking.โ
He always did that. Dean had this way of making honesty feel inevitable. The two of you talked about everything, always had. He knew things about you your closest friends didnโt. Hell, heโd bought condoms for you the first time you planned on sleeping with someone because youโd been too embarrassed to walk into the store yourself.
You moved deeper into the chair, pulling one leg beneath you while you searched carefully for the right words. โUmโฆโ You inhaled again, then blurted it out before your brain could stop you. โI suck at the sex thing.โ
Deanโs face twisted immediately in disagreement as you passed the blunt. โBullshit.โ
You laughed softly. โNo, seriously. I do.โ You rubbed awkwardly at your neck before continuing. โTurns out not being able to cum eventually becomes an issue when your partner realizes you never actually have with them.โ
Deanโs expression changed instantly. Every conversation youโd ever had about sex clearly started replaying in his head at once because confusion hit him violently.
โBut you told meโโ
โI lied.โ The words came out easier than expected. You shrugged lightly, though your stomach still tightened. โIโve been lying for years...Faking it until I got tired of faking it and started bruising egos.โ A humorless smile tugged briefly at your mouth. โIncluding mine.โ
Dean stayed quiet now so you stared into the fire instead.
โI justโฆโ You exhaled slowly. โI donโt think sex is really my thing.โ Your shoulders lifted. โI like the idea of it. I enjoy parts of itโฆbut everyone talks about this huge explosive ending and I justโฆโ You shook your head. โDonโt get thereโฆnaturally people stop believing you when you say it was still good.โ
Dean watched you carefully. โWas it?โ
โThe sex?โ You let the silence drag for a second before shrugging again. โI think so.โ Your lips twitched faintly. โIt was good enough to build better stories around afterward.โ
Dean stopped smoking entirely after that. The blunt burned slowly between his fingers while he stared down at it, suddenly looking far more sober than either of you probably were. He looked like he was trying to organize his thoughts before speaking again.
โHow about alone?โ The question came softly, carefully.
If you didnโt know him so well, you mightโve mistaken the look on his face for pity. Thankfully, you did know him, which meant you recognized concern immediately.
You shook your head slowly. โThatโs why Iโm saying itโs not his fault.โ
โItโs not yours either,โ Dean argued as he flicked the rest of the blunt into the fire pit before continuing. โIt just hasnโt happened yet.โ His voice softened further. โDoesnโt mean it never will.โ
You let out a slow breath, eyes closing briefly as the weed finally started loosening the tension sitting on your shoulders. โItโs definitely not from lack of trying.โ
You could feel him staring at you even with your eyes closed.
The silence stretched comfortably after your confession, softened by the crackling fire and the distant chorus of crickets surrounding the backyard. The flames had started dying down, wood collapsing inward with quiet snaps while smoke drifted lazily into the cold night air.
Dean still hadnโt looked away from you. โSo what now?โ he asked finally.
You swallowed slowly, still keeping your eyes shut. For a second or maybe an entire minute, Dean genuinely thought youโd fallen asleep mid-conversation.
Then your lips twitched. โCelibacy.โ
The offended sound that tore out of him made your smile widen. You heard him trying to hold it back too, which honestly made it funnier but this was Dean. Subtle outrage had never once existed in his body.
โThink Iโd look hot as a nun?โ you asked lazily.
โYouโd look hot in a banana costume wearing clown shoes six sizes too big,โ he replied instantly. โAnd youโre absolutely not dropping out of Briar to become a nun. End of discussion.โ
His tone came out firm enough to sound ridiculous considering he had absolutely no authority over your life whatsoever.
You finally peeled your eyes open to look at him. The weed had settled into your bones now, leaving you heavy and relaxed against the chair. Dean looked hazy too, hair falling perfectly while the firelight flickered warm across his face.
โYouโre not giving up because some five-eleven idiot couldnโt be patient long enough to figure you out.โ
You grinned. โHeโs six-one.โ
Dean scoffed. โHe tried out for the Hawks freshman year. Trust me, heโs five-eleven.โ
Your brows lifted. Dean kept going without needing encouragement, already slipping into that protective streak he pretended wasnโt there. He always collected information about people around you, quietly filing it away for future use whenever he deemed necessary.
โHe was wearing lifts during tryouts,โ Dean added smugly. โOne bad pivot and the guy almost snapped an ankle.โ
A laugh escaped you softly.
โIf you wanna stop having sex altogether, God forbidโโ
โYou should become a priest,โ you interrupted.
Dean barked out a laugh, tipping his head back. โYeah,โ he nodded. โItโd probably take a year and a half to cleanse my sins.โ He pointed toward himself loosely. โAnd thatโs assuming I donโt burst into flames the second I walk into a church.โ His eyes drifted back to you. โCan I continue now?โ
โYes, Father,โ you replied through a chuckle.
Dean shook his head, smiling despite himself before settling deeper into his chair again.
โIf you really wanna do the celibacy thing, fine.โ He shrugged dramatically. โIโll support you. Weโll find support groups together and hold hands through the trauma.โ His mouth twitched. โThough personally, Iโd go through withdrawals first.โ
โHow solidary of you.โ
He nodded solemnly. โExactly. Plus I can probably add it to my extracurriculars somehow.โ
You laughed harder at that, shoulders shaking slightly as you leaned back into the chair. โYouโre so fucking stupid.โ
Dean watched you carefully while you laughed. The sound came out lighter than anything heโd heard from you all week, chest rising and falling unevenly while your eyes squeezed shut again for a second and suddenly the conversation stopped feeling funny to him.
Because underneath the jokes, underneath the weed and the teasing, he kept thinking about what youโd actually said earlier. About you trying and nothing happening.
Dean loved sex. Everyone knew that much about him but you did too or at least you loved wanting it, loved feeling desired, loved the intimacy, the heat and everything wrapped around it and now all he could think about was how frustrating that mustโve been for you. Wanting something everyone else talked about so easily only for your body not to cooperate no matter how hard you tried.
The thought sat badly in his chest. Dean looked down at the dying fire for a second before his eyes lifted back to you.
โUse me,โ he blurted out.
Your laughter faded gradually after his words, the smile still lingering at the corners of your mouth while your eyes settled back on him even more carefully this time.ย
โWhat do you mean?โ
Dean didnโt even hesitate. โIโll be your last resort,โ he repeated easily, like heโd already thought this through far more than he probably had. โArenโt you always telling me to make myself useful?โ
You narrowed your eyes, blinking slowly through the haze settling heavier behind them.
โWhat exactly are you suggesting?โ You rubbed at one eye with the heel of your hand. โBecause Iโm starting to think I hallucinated that sentence.โ
โI hold my weed better than you,โ he reminded you smugly.
That part, unfortunately, was true. Dean leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting against his knees now, all lazy amusement gone strangely sincere beneath the teasing.
โYou wanna quit? Fine.โ He shrugged. โQuit when youโre actually out of options.โ
A quiet huff left you, somewhere between disbelief and laughter. โDidnโt realize Six Flags counted as an option.โ Your lips twitched faintly. โI hate rollercoasters.โ
Dean nodded decisively. โThen Iโll go out of business.โ
โYouโll close the park?โ
โIโll shut the whole thing down,โ he promised solemnly. โJust so you can ride the teacups.โ The grin spreading across his face warned you half a second too late. โRemember when you threw up on theโโ
โYes,โ you cut him off immediately, flat and horrified. โI remember.โ
Dean laughed anyway. Full-bodied, warm and entirely too pleased with himself as he pointed at you. โYou were crying,โ he accused through the laughter. โYou kept saying your stomach hated youโโ
โI was fifteen.โ
โAnd dramatic.โ He added. โBut so cuteโฆless mouthy too.โ
โYou held my hair while I threw up into a trash can behind the funnel cake stand.โ
Deanโs laughter softened slightly at that memory. Back then heโd been genuinely terrified something was wrong with you. Heโd hovered beside you the entire night looking pale enough to pass out himself while you recovered on a bench wrapped in his sweatshirt. Now he just looked fond.
You glanced away first, eyes dropping back toward the dying fire while your thoughts started turning over his earlier suggestion again despite yourself.
It could go horribly. Actually, no, it would go horribly. There were at least seventeen reasons this crossed every boundary imaginable. You already hated rollercoasters, hated fast turns and hated giving up control over literally anything involving your body and DeanโฆWell, Dean was Dean.
Confident, experienced, annoyingly good-looking and unarguably good at sex if campus rumors counted for anything and unfortunately they definitely did. You hadnโt exactly conducted research firsthand but after years of hearing stories from girls around campus, the reviews were embarrassingly consistent.
โYou really think that highly of your dick?โ you asked finally.
Dean shrugged lazily against the chair. โNobody said anything about using it.โ
That made your eyes snap back to him fully. โAnd if nothing works?โ you asked quieter this time.
The question slipped out more honestly than intended because suddenly you werenโt thinking about sex anymore. You were thinking about aftermaths, about what happened if this ruined things between you. Dean had woven himself into your life years ago so naturally that imagining him gone felt impossible now.
You genuinely didnโt know how youโd survive losing him too.
Dean studied you for a second and for once the confidence in his face softened into something steadier. โThen we fail,โ he decided.
You swallowed.
His grin returned slowly afterward, softer around the edges. โFail with me,โ he corrected. โFail better.โ He pointed between you both lazily. โFail together.โ
A laugh escaped you despite every effort not to give him one.
You rolled your eyes hard enough to make him grin wider, shaking your head while the weed continued smoothing the sharp corners off your thoughts. The night air no longer felt cold against your skin and embarrassment had slowly stopped existing somewhere during the conversation. Maybe that was the dangerous part and not Deanโs suggestion but how easy it suddenly felt to consider it.
You didnโt bring it up again for the rest of the night and neither did Dean.
When the rest of the guys stumbled back into the house loud and half-drunk sometime after midnight, he changed back into normal so smoothly it almost irritated you. He made sure you had food, water, your charger and then bullied one of the sober freshmen into driving you home while standing outside by the car until you pulled away like he always did.
You slept absurdly well afterward.
A heavy sleep and dreamless night, the type that glued you to the mattress the next morning until sunlight was already cutting aggressively through your blinds. By the time you shuffled out with an oversized hoodie you were certain was your exโs, your phone was buzzing with unread texts from Dean sent hours earlier, probably before morning practice.
You ignored every single one and it wasnโt because of regret. Embarrassment simply crawled into your chest somewhere between the first and third spoonful of cereal and decided to settle there permanently.
The entire conversation replayed so clearly now that you were sober. โUse me,โ You nearly groaned into the bowl.
Three hours of class helped, at least temporarily. You sat near the back of the massive amphitheater classroom while your professor rambled enthusiastically about the new book heโd conveniently written himself and would definitely require students to purchase before midterms. You probably wouldโve absorbed more information if you werenโt scrolling mindlessly through Instagram the entire lecture.
The doors behind you opened quietly midway through class.
You barely paid attention at first since nobody descended the stairs toward the lower rows and a second later the seat beside you groaned softly under someoneโs weight.
You recognized the cologne immediately.
โHow hard do you think you need to scrub for that scent to leave your skin?โ you whispered without looking up.
Dean grinned beside you, leaning closer enough for warmth to brush your shoulder as his eyes dropped toward your phone screen.
You locked it quickly and finally looked at him. โYouโre not in this class.โ
โI see your phone works perfectly fine,โ he replied.
The professor thankfully dismissed class early before you could answer, students immediately growing louder as backpacks zipped and people exited the space.
You stood quickly and started gathering your things. โDid you need something, Di Laurentis?โ you asked flatly.
Dean remained seated on purpose, forcing you to awkwardly climb past him to leave the row. The asshole looked entirely too pleased with himself while you muttered under your breath and stepped over his legs.
The second you reached the aisle, he stood and followed.
You walked fast, actually, aggressively fast. Dean almost struggled to keep up at first, his legs clearly still wrecked from morning practice while you marched out of the building like escape itself was the objective. He finally caught you outside near the steps leading toward the quad.
โWe need to talk.โ
You slowed at last before turning toward him. โWhat we need is space,โ you corrected, motioning firmly between your bodies.
Dean looked down between you both thoughtfully, then took exactly one step backward.
You almost laughed, especially because he looked unbearably smug afterward, standing there grinning in the middle of campus like he deserved a reward for basic listening skills.
โYouโve gone to New York with me enough times to know I donโt need more space,โ he pointed out. โBut fine.โ His expression softened slightly afterward, amusement fading as he studied your face more carefully. โWhatโs going on?โ
Of course, he was right. Dean practically crawled into peopleโs personal bubbles recreationally, so the fact heโd backed off at all made it harder to flee the conversation entirely.
You exhaled slowly. โWe said stuff last night.โ
He nodded once, blinking at the tension written all over your face. โYeah. Thatโs usually how conversations work.โ
โStuff you might regret,โ you clarified.
Deanโs brows lifted before a quiet laugh escaped him. โRegret?โ He pointed toward himself loosely. โCโmon. Itโs me.โ
His voice gentled slightly after and the worst part was he looked relieved, because apparently the phrase โstuff you might regretโ translated in Deanโs brain to โgood, sheโs not upsetโ.
โI wouldโve said that sober,โ he assured you.
His eyes stayed fixed on yours while your attention darted briefly around campus before returning to him again exactly like he knew it would. Dean stepped closer instinctively, lowering his voice enough that the passing students around you blurred into background noise.
โYou want me to repeat it?โ he asked quietly. โLet me help you cum.โ
Your stomach tightened at his tone of voice. โIt might not work,โ you reminded him softly.
You hoped your face conveyed the actual problem because this had never been about his ego. Dean could survive failure, heโd probably laugh through it, so that wasnโt what scared you.
Dean shrugged anyway, maddeningly calm. โWhat if it does?โ
โAnd what if it doesnโt?โ Frustration finally slipped into your voice. โDean, I donโt want us to get weird.โ You shook your head hard once. โI donโt need โoptimistic Deanโ right now,โ you muttered. โI need โrealistic Deanโ, so pull him out of your ass.โ
โYou already are weird,โ Dean corrected easily, smiling down at you. โI accepted that years ago.โ His grin widened then. โActually, I encourage it.โ
You rolled your eyes, though the corner of your mouth betrayed you.
โLet me try,โ he insisted again, the confidence in his voice shouldโve irritated you more than it did.
Instead, you found yourself studying him in silence, searching for something off in his expression. Some sign this was ego, curiosity or boredom disguised as concern but he just lookedโฆearnest. Enthusiastic, sure, because he was Dean and apparently incapable of approaching anything halfway but not creepy about it and maybe this was partially your own fault.
Youโd spent years talking openly with him about sex, relationships and attraction. About wanting something good someday instead of tolerable, about how when you were old and exhausted with kids running around, you still wanted a partner who looked at you and wanted you back because you were almost certain youโd still want them too.
Dean remembered everything you saidโฆunfortunately.
You sighed heavily. โWe need rules.โ
โFine.โ He agreed so fast it almost startled you. Dean straightened afterward, nodding once with ridiculous seriousness like the two of you were entering business negotiations instead of whatever disaster this actually was.
You almost reconsidered your next words. Almost.
โNo kissing.โ
Deanโs shoulders visibly dropped. โWhy?โ
โBecause!โ you hissed. โAnd if weโre doing this, you donโt get to question the rules.โ
His face twisted in disbelief. โWeโve kissed before.โ
You crossed your arms tighter. โThat was different.โ
Dean scoffed softly. โWe were literally each otherโs first kiss.โ
Again, he was right. You werenโt just each otherโs first kiss either, a few firsts existed between you both scattered through years of friendship and growing up side by side, all except for sex. There was awkward teenage curiosity, truth or dare disasters and one regrettable spin-the-bottle incident Garrett still occasionally referenced against your will.
Which was exactly why kissing now felt dangerous. This couldnโt spiral into some โwhy didnโt we do this soonerโ conversation. It needed boundaries and structure, something detached enough that neither of you accidentally ruined the friendship orbiting underneath all this and selflessly, you also didnโt want the group dragged into the fallout if things exploded.
โWeโre adults now,โ you said firmly. โSo no kissing.โ
Dean stared at you for another second before exhaling dramatically.ย
โOkay,โ he relentedโฆToo easily, which immediately made you suspicious heโd already started planning arguments against it for later.
โIโve also thought about what you said last night,โ you continued carefully. โAbout Six Flags.โ
Deanโs brows lifted.
โAnd shutting down the entire park feels unfair to you,โ you explained. โPotentially devastating, honestly.โ Your lips twitched slightly. โSo you can still hook up with other people if you want. I genuinely donโt care.โ
Dean actually looked offended. โDidnโt realize I needed permission.โ
โYou know what I mean.โ
โNo, I donโt.โ His voice sharpened for the first time since the conversation started. โBut no thanks.โ He shrugged once. โIt makes this more exciting anyway.โ A grin tugged briefly at his mouth again. โIโve got one ride right now and thatโs all I need.โ
Your face scrunched at his words. โDoes weed somehow make you an even bigger asshole?โ
Dean ignored that completely. โIโm not doing anything with anyone else until weโre done here,โ he repeated firmly. The teasing disappeared entirely from his voice that time and there was no smugness either, just certainty.
You quieted automatically when a group of students passed nearby, a few of them recognizing Dean instantly and greeting him as they crossed the quad. He responded absentmindedly without taking his eyes off you once.
The second they moved far enough away, you continued. โWhy?โ
Deanโs expression softened at the question. โBecause I need you comfortable,โ he answered simply. โAnd I need you to trust me more than you already do.โ
You groaned. โOh my God,โ you muttered, dragging a hand down your face. โYouโre making this weird.โ
He grinned at your reaction while you grabbed his sleeve and started pulling him further across campus before more people stopped to talk to him. Dean let you drag him along without resistance, looking far too entertained by the whole thing.
โWe donโt even know how long this will take,โ you pointed out.
โMy fist works perfectly fine in the meantime,โ Dean decided easily.
You looked up at him so fast your neck almost hurt.
Dean pressed his lips together, visibly trying not to laugh at the pure disbelief written across your face. His head tilted slightly, hair strands falling over his forehead while he watched you stare at him like heโd just confessed to tax fraud.
Your gaze dropped away first.
Contrary to what everyone on campus believed, Dean didnโt actually need constant hookups to survive. He liked the reputation, liked exaggerating it even more whenever it annoyed you enough to argue back or laugh at him but underneath all that, he could handle himself perfectly fine.
Unfortunately for you, he seemed almost smug about proving that now.
โCan I add rules too?โ he asked.
You sighed dramatically. โSure.โ
The two of you kept walking through campus side by side, your pace slower now that the conversation had moved on from terrifying to merely humiliating.
โNo scheduling things specifically for this,โ Dean decided. โIf it happens, it happens.โ
You blinked once before nodding slowly. โYeah. Okay.โ Relief actually loosened something in your chest at that. โThatโs good. Iโll stress less.โ
Dean glanced sideways at you, probably pleased you agreed so quicklyโฆExcept his rule immediately created entirely new problems.
โUhโฆโ Your steps slowed slightly. โHow do youโฆโ You scratched awkwardly at your eyebrow. โTake it?โ
Dean stopped walking altogether. โHow do I take what?โ he asked carefully. โMy coffee?โ
You groaned. โNo.โ Your hand motioned vaguely between the two of you in a series of gestures that explained absolutely nothing. โLikeโฆhow do you like it?โ
Deanโs brows lifted as realization hit him almost visibly.
You looked away at once. โFuck,โ you muttered under your breath. โDo I need to be clean shaven constantly or not?โ Your voice lowered progressively through the sentence while your eyes darted around campus to make sure nobody nearby overheard you discussing grooming preferences in broad daylight.
Dean stared at you for half a second too long before answering.
โY/n.โ The seriousness in his tone made your eyes flicker back toward him. โThe day I tell you what to do with your body, you better knock me unconscious.โ
Your mouth parted slightly.
โIโll literally kneel for it if that makes it easier,โ he continued firmly. โDo whatever makes you comfortable.โ
And he meant it. Dean would enjoy it either way, obviously, but that wasnโt what mattered to him here. What mattered was getting you out of your own head long enough to actually enjoy yourself instead of performing comfort for someone else.
You blinked slowly at him because suddenly your exโs comments replayed in your head with uncomfortable clarity. Little preferences disguised as jokes and suggestions repeated enough times to become expectations and judging by the expression tightening briefly across Deanโs face, heโd realized exactly where your question came from too.
That only made you feel worse somehow. Your attention drifted toward the students moving around campus nearby.
You suddenly wondered if people would notice eventually. The same way older women always claimed they somehow knew when girls became sexually active. Weird comments about posture and confidence, wider hips and glowing skin that sounded fake until suddenly you became the target of them too.
Your stomach tightened faintly. โWhat are we supposed to tell people?โ
Dean barely hesitated. โTo mind their own fucking business.โ
You snorted softly.
He looked over at you again, entirely serious despite the amusement still lingering around his mouth. โJust like Iโm doing mine.โ
The rest of the week passed almost painfully normal.
There were parties, late-night food runs, afternoons sprawled around the boysโ house while someone yelled at a video game in the background and hockey games while Dean acted exactly the same as always. You spent time with Hannah and Allie between classes and after them, listened to Garrett complain dramatically about assignments heโd started twelve hours before they were due, watched Tucker cook enough food for six grown men while Logan disappeared upstairs with company more often than not.
Nothing changed.
Dean still touched your shoulder when he walked past you, still stole fries off your plate and still looked at you too long whenever you laughed at something stupid and somehow that made the entire thing worse because half the time you genuinely convinced yourself youโd imagined the whole conversation by the fire pit entirely.
Maybe the weed had made you both insane and none of it was real.
You sat curled up on the floor of the boysโ living room later that week with your knees tucked to your chest, a notebook balanced across your thighs while formulas blurred together across the page. Your back rested against the couch and the TV played quietly in the background though neither of you actually paid attention to it.
Dean sat opposite you in the armchair, long legs spread comfortably while he hunched over his own notebook with far more concentration than anyone would expect from him or maybe not because he took hockey so seriously. He took school seriously too, despite pretending otherwise whenever possible but unfortunately for you, he also looked unfairly good doing homework.
You tried focusing on your own work, tried hard. Instead, your eyes kept lifting toward him between equations, your brain repeatedly snagging on the memory of everything heโd said days earlier and the fact neither of you had taken any of it backโฆor done a single thing about it.
โWhatโd you get for number three?โ Deanโs voice pulled you from your thoughts but still didnโt look up from his notebook.
You blinked down at your own page, trying to remember where your brain had abandoned the assignment entirely.
โC,โ you answered eventually. โBut Iโm not confident about it.โ
Dean hummed thoughtfully. โIโve done the math twice and I keep getting B.โ
You reread the problem slowly, trying to force your attention into place. โThen itโs probably B.โ
Dean finally looked up at that, one brow lifting. โYouโre admitting youโre wrong?โ
You snorted softly. Honestly, it was extremely possible. Your brain hadnโt functioned properly all week because you kept thinking about him offering himself up like some absurdly confident science experiment.ย
โDonโt need to dig through my family tree to know Iโm not descended from Isaac Newton.โ
A smile tugged slowly across Deanโs mouth as he leaned back in the armchair. โIf you are,โ he said, eyes dragging over your face, โIโm glad the ugly recessive genes skipped you.โ
Your nose scrunched instantly. โWhat kind of compliment is that?โ
โThe kind Iโm hoping gets you over here to help me.โ He motioned you closer lazily with his pointer and middle fingers.
You sighed before setting your notebook on the coffee table and padding across the room toward him. The house was quieter this late afternoon, though not empty. Hannah was upstairs with Garrett, Logan had disappeared into his room hours ago and Tucker was outside training.
โLetโs see,โ you murmured.
You bent slightly over Dean and the notebook resting on the armrest, attention dropping fully to the equations scattered across the page. The movement loosened the collar of your shirt enough for cool air to brush your skin.
Dean noticed and his throat cleared quietly.
Your attention remained on the notebook while his eyes betrayed him completely, dropping for one dangerous second to the visible lace of your bra before forcing themselves back upward toward your face instead.
Dean had promised himself heโd take this slow and naturally because the second he acted weird about it, you would too. Youโd overthink every movement, every look and accidental touch and unfortunately for him, youโd always been terrifyingly good at reading him.
He moved the notebook slightly farther from you as one hand settled carefully against your hip, guiding you.
You reached automatically for the notebook before he moved it entirely out of reach, successfully grabbing it just as he tugged you forward enough for your balance to tip. A second later you settled directly onto his lap, knees falling naturally to either side of his thighs.
You blinked once. โSmooth,โ you muttered, adjusting yourself carefully without looking at him. โIโll give you that.โ
Dean grinned openly now. You balanced the notebook against his chest like it was a table and reached backward for the pen loosely held in his free hand. His fingers brushed yours before letting go.
โShould be a five,โ you corrected while marking over the equation. โNot a seven.โ Your brows furrowed slightly. โYour handwritingโs gotten worse over the years.โ
โYou still read it.โ
โIโm not the one grading you.โ Your eyes lifted straight into his.
Youโd sat on Deanโs lap before, during packed car rides, group trips and random stupid moments over the years where proximity stopped mattering because he was just Dean. This didnโt feel like that, not even close.
โNot in math,โ he said quietly.
Only one of his hands touched you still, resting warm and steady against your hip like he was making a conscious effort not to overwhelm you. Whether it was intentional or not, it worked. His eyes drifted downward slowly toward your mouth.
โYou should be rating everything else though.โ A grin ghosted briefly across his lips. โPretty sure Six Flags has customer surveys.โ
You shook your head once, slow enough that your hair brushed lightly against your cheek. โNo ride, no survey.โ
Deanโs mouth twitched. His legs spread slightly wider underneath you then, subtle enough that you still felt the change as the apex of your thighs aligned more directly with his. The hand on your hip tightened enough for you to notice. โGo on then,โ he murmured.
Your gaze dropped before you could stop it, down to the visible tent pressing insistently against the front of his sweats. Heat climbed your throat immediately.
โInteresting moment you picked,โ you muttered softly, eyes flicking briefly toward the rest of the house.
You felt comfortable there. Comfortable enough to leave clothes behind, to wander into the kitchen without asking and to nap on the couch when you got tired during movie nights but knowing the others were still around somewhere made your pulse jump harder instead of calming it.
Dean noticed. โJust focus on me,โ he instructed quietly.
Not โlook at meโ, just โfocusโ which you could do.
You looked at him, seeing the genuine curiosity and lack of judgment in his eyes and for the first time, the wall you'd built around your sexuality felt more like a shield and less like a cage.
Slowly, tentatively, you moved as the gravity of the moment pulled you toward him. You settled your weight directly onto him, feeling the distinct, blunt shape of his cock through the layers of your clothes. He wasn't fully hard yet, just a semi-firm pressure against your clothed pussy but it didn't make you recoil. In fact, it sent a low thrum of anticipation through your nerves.
The air between you grew thick, charged with a tension that felt heavy enough to touch. You remembered your own rule: no kissing. So, you kept your face inches from his but you didn't close the gap. Instead, you focused on the sound of his breathing, which had hitched the moment you sat down. You could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your lips, a teasing, invisible touch that made your skin prickle.
Deanโs hand still hovered near your waist, trembling slightly but he didn't grip you. He seemed to be fighting every instinct to pull you closer, respecting the fragile boundary you had set.
"I'm gonna keep my hands off," he whispered, his voice strained and rough. "You just keep moving. Take whatever you're comfortable with."
He pulled his arms back, resting them flat against the seat beside him, leaving you in complete control. The sudden lack of physical contact made the friction between your pelvises feel even more intense. You knew what you were doing, you had enough experience to know how your body worked, even if the 'explosive ending' always eluded you. You began to rock, a slow, tentative grind that pressed your pussy firmly against the length of him as a sharp, jagged exhale escaped his lungs.ย
You felt him react instantly, the semi-firmness beneath you surged, his cock thickening and hardening rapidly against your center. You rolled your hips in a circular motion, aiming for the sweet spot, feeling the dampness beginning to soak into your underwear. You were getting wetter, the friction creating a sliding, sensual heat that radiated upward into your stomach.
"You still okay?" he breathed out, voice barely a murmur.
You simply nodded and tried to focus entirely on him, wanting to give him something perfect, something that would leave him breathless. You pushed down harder, grinding your clit against the hard ridge of his dick. You watched his face, head falling back against the headrest, leaving his throat exposed and pulsing but he forced his eyes to stay open. He wanted to see you. He wanted to witness the way your expression changed as you found a rhythm that worked.
The intimacy was suffocating in the best way. There was no kissing to distract you and no wandering hands to break the spell, just the raw, rhythmic pressure of friction. You could feel the heat radiating off his thighs, the way his chest heaved in time with your movements as your own breathing became ragged, mirroring his, the sound of your synchronized gasps filling the quiet space.
You felt a small, involuntary moan escape your throat, a soft sound of pleasure that made Deanโs hips jerk upward instinctively, trying to meet your descent. You pressed closer, your mind racing, trying to synchronize your pleasure with his but as the tension built, a familiar frustration began to creep in. You were so close to that peak, that elusive edge but the more you focused on his perfection, the more you felt yourself slipping away from your own. You wanted it, you wanted to break through the ceiling you'd lived under for years and the frustration made you grind harder, more desperately.
You were just beginning to lose yourself in the friction, your body humming with a desperate, electric need, when the spell was shattered.
The heavy thud of footsteps hit the wooden porch outside, then came muffled voices.
Tucker.
The sound slammed into you like ice water dumped straight down your spine.
You jolted backward instantly, panic snapping through your body so violently that your balance disappeared completely. The friction, the heat, the dizzy haze clouding your brain shattered in one humiliating second as you scrambled away from Dean in pure instinct.
Deanโs hands had actually stayed off, so when you lurched backward, there was nothing anchoring you in place, no arm catching your waist or grip steadying you. You slipped right off his lap in a graceless tangle of limbs and landed hard beside the chair with a muffled curse, your pulse hammering violently against your ribs.
Dean moved at the same time you did. One hand grabbed the nearest couch pillow and yanked it straight into his lap while the other instinctively reached toward you, fingers brushing empty air because you were already halfway onto your feet.
The front door opened and you froze.
Your breathing came embarrassingly uneven as you tried forcing your body back under control, thighs trembling faintly from the abrupt stop, nerves buzzing so hard beneath your skin it almost hurt. Dean leaned back into the chair with his head tipped toward the ceiling for one brief second, chest rising sharply beneath his t-shirt while tortured frustration flashed openly across his face before he forced himself together enough to look toward the entryway.
Tucker walked in distractedly, phone pressed to his ear while he kicked the door shut behind him with his shoe.
โโNo, because thatโs not what I said,โ he argued into the phone before finally glancing up.
Deanโs voice came out rough and annoyed. โCan't you knock?โ
The irritation in it made your eyes widen and before thinking better of it, you reached over and smacked lightly at his arm which made him look offended for half a second.
Tuckerโs brows pulled together slowly as his gaze moved between the two of youโฆYou standing there awkwardly and Dean spread out in the armchair with a pillow aggressively covering his lap.
The TV was still playing, forgotten in the background too.
โWait,โ Tucker muttered into the phone, eyes narrowing slightly. โHold on.โ He lowered the phone away from his ear and motioned vaguely around the living room. โI live here,โ he pointed out flatly. โIf you two wanna study in complete silence maybe turn the TV down or go to the library.โ
Your mouth pressed into a painfully tight smile.
โHey, Y/n.โ he greeted, much more gently.
โHi,โ you replied weakly with an awkward nod.
Tucker gave you one more lingering look before wandering toward the kitchen, already returning to his phone conversation while opening the fridge like absolutely nothing life-altering had just occurred in his living room.
The second he was no longer looking, your eyes snapped back toward Dean, his were already on you, wide and still dark with frustration and lingering heat and approximately ten other emotions you absolutely did not have time to unpack right now.
You hurried toward where youโd abandoned your bag near the couch and started shoving your things inside far too quickly.
Dean muttered a curse under his breath behind you as the fridge door opened again. โWait, wait, wait,โ he whispered urgently.
You ignored him completely, nearly dropping your belongings while trying to zip your bag shut.
โYou donโt have to leave,โ he continued quietly, unable to stand for reasons both of you were painfully aware of. The pillow remained trapped over his lap while he leaned forward slightly, voice dropping lower. โStay for dinner.โ Then louder, โRight, Tucker?โ
From the kitchen, still mid-conversation, Tucker lifted a distracted thumbs up without even looking over. Of course you could stay, you were always welcome there and it somehow made this infinitely worse.
โY/n, cโmon,โ Dean tried again, even softer this time.
You finally looked at him, at his flushed face and the way he still looked wrecked from you despite the interruption.
Your stomach flipped painfully. โYou can text me that survey of yours,โ you muttered.
Dean groaned quietly at the reminder, watching as you grabbed your bag and headed straight for the front door before your embarrassment could physically consume you alive.
You didnโt say goodbye or looked back. You slipped outside into the cold early evening air and shut the door behind you, immediately dragging in one huge breath like youโd been underwater too long.
Fresh air hit your lungs sharply, cool and tensionless.
Your legs felt weird as you walked down the porch steps and somewhere beneath the embarrassment sat an even more irritating realization. You needed to change your panties and somehow, you still hadnโt come.
For the first time in your academic career, you were thankful exam week existed.
The chaos of midterms had given you and Dean something else to focus on besides the fact youโd nearly climbed him in the middle of his living room while Tucker casually walked through the front door. Between study sessions, essays, last-minute cramming and the general emotional collapse that overtook Briar every semester, things had settled back into something manageable.
You and Dean had talked afterward, though absolutely not alone.
Heโd insisted on meeting in a crowded coffee shop near campus where old women typed aggressively on laptops and students cried quietly over textbooks in the corner booths. Dean had spent most of the conversation reassuring you Tucker didnโt know anything, swearing repeatedly that if Tucker had known, the entire hockey house wouldโve heard about it within twelve minutes. More importantly, heโd made sure you still wanted this and despite the embarrassment, the frustration and how badly your body still reacted whenever he looked at you too long, you did.
โAre you seriously not coming?โ Allie paced dramatically across the apartment while speaking, changing outfits for what had to be the fourth time in under an hour. Both you and Hannah tracked her movements from the couch like spectators at a tennis match while she disappeared into her room only to emerge seconds later wearing something slightly tighter each time.
Hannah finally peeled her attention away from Allie to look at you instead.
โSheโs right,โ she agreed. โExams are over. Maybe partying would actually help.โ
You smiled lazily from your spot curled into the couch cushions, blanket draped across your legs while exhaustion sat heavy behind your eyes.
โWhatโll help me is eight uninterrupted hours of sleep,โ you informed them. โWhich I plan on pursuing aggressively the second both of you leave.โ Your mouth twitched slightly. โNow see some boys and make questionable use of your mouths elsewhere.โ
Allie barked out a laugh loud enough to echo while Hannah groaned.
โWhen are we finding your rebound?โ Allie asked as she finally settled on an outfit and bent down to tug on her boots.
โItโs too soon,โ you decided immediately.
โIt is,โ Hannah agreed with a firm nod. โShe doesnโt wanna think about men right now and weโre respecting that.โ
You pointed gratefully toward her. โSee? Emotional maturity.โ
โSure,โ Allie snorted. โIโm still passing your Instagram around tonight though.โ She grinned wickedly while crossing toward the couch. โYou can decide what to do with the options later.โ Before you could answer, she leaned down and squeezed you tightly against her side. โDonโt wait up for us.โ
You watched them drag out the goodbye process intentionally, moving toward the door with exaggerated slowness like they expected you to suddenly change your mind and throw on heels at the last second.
You sighed and stood from the couch, physically herding them toward the exit. โJust go,โ you laughed while they protested loudly.
โWe tried,โ Hannah reminded you with a smile while Allie opened the apartment door. โWeโll send you the address anyway.โ
โI wonโt change my mind.โ
โYou say that now...โ
You waved them off anyway and finally shut the door behind them once they disappeared down the hallway already talking excitedly about shots and music and whatever terrible decisions the night would inevitably produce.
Silence settled across the apartment immediately afterward.
You exhaled slowlyโฆnow what? You considered your options while wandering aimlessly through the living space. You could curl up on the couch with your laptop and a movie or crawl into bed and disappear beneath blankets for twelve straight hours like a Victorian woman with mysterious exhaustion. OrโฆYour thoughts drifted elsewhere automatically, toward your room and the drawer beside your bed.
You grimaced slightly. Maybe tonight was the night you tried again, actually committed to figuring yourself out instead of giving up midway through frustration like usual. Youโd bought enough toys over the years based entirely on optimistic reviews and late-night curiosity alone.
Were they even charged? You were approximately two steps away from your bedroom when knocking sounded at the front door.
You groaned at the sound. โDid you guys forget your condoms again?โ you called out while turning toward the entrance. Honestly, it happened often enough that the assumption came naturally now.
You unlocked the door and pulled it open. Then blinked at who you saw. โDean.โ
Dean stood casually in the hallway wearing a baseball cap and dark sunglasses despite the fact it was nighttime indoors, which mightโve worked better if he wasnโt also carrying an enormous black bag beside him.
โI always carry condoms,โ he informed you smugly.
Your face scrunched instantly as his answer only emphasized how thin the apartment walls actually were. You narrowed your eyes at him while glancing suspiciously down the hallway.ย
โWhy arenโt you at the party?โ
Dean lowered the sunglasses enough to properly look at you over the frames.
You looked soft tonight, comfortable. Wearing sweatpants and an oversized shirt, hair messier than usual from lying around all day. The sight quickly made something warm settle low in his chest.
โBecause Iโm here with you.โ
โNo,โ you corrected. โYou wanted to be here with me.โ You pointed vaguely toward campus. โPast tenseโฆYou should currently be at that party.โ
โNo can do.โ Dean slipped smoothly past you before you could stop him, nudging the apartment door shut behind him with his foot.
Only then did you fully notice the bag. It was large, rectangular, black and rigid with no visible branding whatsoever. It completely ruined the whole incognito outfit.
Your eyes narrowed harder while Dean looked far too pleased with himself.
โI come bearing gifts,โ he announced, then he walked straight toward your bedroom like he paid rent there.
โHow did you know I didnโt go to the party?โ you asked while following him toward your bedroom.
Dean set the bag carefully onto your bed before finally turning around, fingers hooking beneath the brim of his cap as he pulled it off. The sunglasses followed next, revealing eyes already fixed on you with far too much satisfaction.
โI have my sources.โ
You grimaced again. โThat sounds vaguely threatening.โ
โHannah asked me the other day to convince you to come out tonight.โ He shrugged casually. โI didnโt.โ
You crossed your arms. โWho says I wouldโve agreed anyway?โ
Dean smiled instantly. โMe.โ The confidence in his answer came without hesitation. โIโm very persuasive.โ
You rolled your eyes before your attention dragged back toward the massive black bag sitting suspiciously at the foot of your bed. โWhat is that?โ
Dean glanced over his shoulder toward it. โOur entertainment for tonight.โ His mouth twitched slightly. โWellโฆmine.โ
You narrowed your eyes harder at him before stepping around him toward the bed. The bag gave nothing away from the outside, rigid and sleek and annoyingly mysterious.
Cautiously, you reached inside and your fingers brushed lace first. You blinked then slowly pulled the item free into the light between you both, pinching it delicately between two fingers like it might suddenly attack you.
โLingerie?โ you asked, genuinely confused.
Dean nodded once. โI had to get rid of the boxes,โ he explained. โTurns out Agent Provocateur packaging isnโt exactly subtle.โ
Your eyes widened immediately. โAgent Provocateur?โ You stared at him in disbelief before looking back into the bag. โAre you insane?โ
One by one, you started pulling more pieces out. Black laceโฆcream silk and tiny straps. Things so soft they barely felt real against your fingertips.
Dean watched your growing expression carefully and only then seemed to realize he may have gone slightly overboard. โI got lost on the website,โ he admitted. โAnd then there was free shipping after a certain amount which felt financially irresponsible to ignore.โ
You straightened slowly, still clutching one lace bodysuit in your hands while looking at him like heโd lost his damn mind.
โExplain to me,โ you said carefully, โhow exactly this counts as entertainment.โ
โBesides the obvious?โ
Your stare sharpened. Dean exhaled quietly before answering, his tone softening as the teasing faded from his expression.
โWhen you were on my lap the other dayโฆโ His eyes flickered briefly toward the floor before returning to you. โYou stopped focusing on yourself after a while.โ
Your fingers tightened slightly around the lace.
โYou started trying to get me there instead,โ he continued gently. โLike you were more worried about proving something than actually feeling good.โ
Heat crept onto the nape of your neck because he was right. Dean noticed everything.
โAnd I get it,โ he added quickly, voice staying careful. โProbably instinct. You wanted me to enjoy it.โ His mouth twitched faintly. โWhich I definitely did, by the way. Donโt start doubting that part.โ
You stayed quiet while watching him and actually listened instead of acting on your urge to flee.
โTonight,โ he said after a beat, nodding lightly toward the lingerie scattered across your bed, โthe lingerie can be for me.โ His eyes moved back to yours. โSo the rest can just be yours.โ
The room went quiet afterward. The plan had probably sounded more coherent in Deanโs head at one in the morning while online shopping half-awake with his laptop balanced on his stomach but somewhere beneath the absurdity of it, you understood what he meant.
Lingerie wasnโt only about someone else seeing you in it, women bought it for themselves too, to feel pretty, desired and confident. Sometimes just to stand in front of the mirror and reclaim something private but eventually, with partners, it often became performative too, something shared and visual. Dean was trying to remove that pressure from everything else.
Your gaze drifted slowly back down toward the pile of lace but you still werenโt entirely sure what happened next. You tried things on and then, what?
Your voice lowered slightly. โWhat kind of mind games are you playing?โ
You hoped it didnโt sound accusing because it wasnโt meant to. You were just struggling to process the fact Dean had seen through you so clearly after one failed attempt, that heโd gone and actually thought about it, considered it and returned with something tangible instead of empty reassurance and blind confidence.
Dean shook his head immediately. โNo games.โ His voice stayed soft and patient, ready to leave the second you told him this was too much. โLetโs just give it a shot.โ
Silence stretched again before you finally reached for a pair of panties instead. The lace slid smoothly through your fingers as you lifted the panties between you both for further inspection.
Deanโs eyes dropped instantly and despite himself, one very clear thought crossed his mind.
โYeah. Definitely one of my favorites.โ
โHow do you even know these will fit?โ you asked honestly. The fabric looked expensive enough to disintegrate if handled incorrectly, soft lace brushing against your fingertips while you inspected the tiny details stitched into it.
Dean opened his mouthโฆclosed it and opened it again. โIโmโฆobservant?โ
Even he sounded unsure of the answer.
Your lips twitched as you bit back a laugh while digging through the pile until you found the matching bra, then gathered both pieces in your hands.
โObservant and persuasive,โ you mused while backing toward the bathroom. โLet me know when thereโs something substantial to add to that list.โ
Dean nodded solemnly like youโd given him serious criticism to reflect on. โWill do.โ
The bathroom door clicked shut behind you and the second it did, Dean exhaled sharply and looked down at himself...for fuckโs sake.
He adjusted himself miserably through his pants while staring at your closed bathroom door in defeat. Lately everything about you affected him differently, your voice, your teasing and the way you looked at him for half a second too long depending on the day.
It was becoming genuinely embarrassing.
Dean barely moved from the spot youโd left him in.
He stayed planted near the foot of your bed, one hand dragging occasionally through his hair while his eyes remained fixed on the bathroom door like staring hard enough would somehow let him see through it. Every few seconds he twitched awkwardly in his pants, dealing unsuccessfully with the consequences of occasionally hearing your hums through the thin wall while knowing exactly what you were changing into behind it.
Inside the bathroom, you stood frozen in front of the mirror for far longer than necessary.
You tried very hard not to think about how closely Dean mustโve paid attention to you over the years to somehow get the sizing exactly right because it fit perfectly.
The lace sat snug against your skin without pinching anywhere, soft black patterns curling over your chest and hugging your hips beautifully. The bra lifted your breasts enough to make your posture straighten instinctively while the matching panties rested low against your hips, delicate enough to feel expensive but comfortable enough not to make you tug at them every two seconds.
You looked good, not just tolerable under dim lights or acceptable after strategic positioning and reassurance and maybe that was what scared you most because now you had to walk back out there and let someone else see it too.
With one last glance toward your reflection, you finally reached for the doorknob and stepped back into your room.
Dean looked up immediately, the reaction was almost embarrassing.
He stopped breathing for half a second entirely, eyes dragging over you slowly enough to make heat climb straight into your throat. He barely blinked while following your movement across the room as you drifted toward your full-length mirror, fingertips lightly tracing the lace resting over your shoulders before moving lower toward the small details connecting the cups together.
The silence stretched thickly.
You kept looking at yourself mostly because looking directly at him felt dangerous right now, even as he moved behind you slowly without touching. He was just standing there close enough for warmth to gather along your back while his eyes followed yours through the reflection. Wherever you looked, he looked too, until eventually your gazes met in the mirror.
You swallowed. โWhat do you think?โ
Dean inhaled deeply through his nose. โI think,โ he said slowly, โSix Flags might be going out of business soon.โ
Your brows lifted immediately before a quiet laugh escaped you despite yourself.
You turned around to face him fully then, stepping closer until only inches separated you both. Your hands settled carefully against the center of his chest, fingertips brushing lightly against the fabric of his shirt while you looked up at him.
Dean held your gaze steadily, too steadily, sometimes it genuinely felt like he could read your thoughts if he stared long enough. โWhat do you think?โ he echoed softly.
You hummed quietly, eyes flickering downward toward his mouth before lifting back up again.
โI thinkโฆโ Your hands began sliding slowly down his chest, fingertips grazing over the hard planes beneath his shirt one inch at a time. โMaybeโฆโ Your voice softened further as your palms drifted lower. โI could show you something I actually know how to do.โ
Deanโs jaw tightened as your fingers brushed the bulge straining against his pants.
โWith my mouth,โ you finished quietly.
You didnโt move afterward and neither did he.
In your head, the logic made sense. Dean already thought you were beautiful, so you didnโt need him witnessing your frustration firsthand too. You could give him something good instead, something you knew how to control.
For one dangerous second, he looked like he was genuinely considering it. Then Dean exhaled sharply and turned you around instead, guiding you gently back toward the mirror until your back rested against his chest.
A startled breath caught in your throat as your ass pressed unintentionally against the hard outline of his erection.
Your eyes met his again through the reflection.
โI donโt doubt you can do those things,โ he murmured near your ear. โAll of them.โ
One of his hands settled carefully against your waist while the other slid slowly downward, fingertips brushing beneath the waistband of your panties enough to make your stomach tighten.ย
His eyes never once left yours in the mirror. โSo why do you?โ
The reflection showed the two of you, a study in tension and longing. You could see the intensity in his eyes, the way he watched you not just with desire but with a focused, intentional kind of devotion.
His hand didn't push further, he stopped before his fingertips brushed the outer lips of your pussy, leaving a teasing spark of contact. He held himself there, gaze locking onto yours in the mirror, waiting. He wasn't going to take a single inch more without your explicit permission.
You felt your heart hammer against your ribs, chest heaving. You looked into his eyes and gave a small, shaky nod.
The moment you did, he slid deeper. His fingers glided through the slick already gathering between your thighs, parting you with a gentle pressure that couldโve made your toes curl. He didn't rush, he navigated the wet lips until his fingertip found the small, swollen bud of your clit. He began to circle it slowly with agonizingly steady rotations that sent ripples of electricity shooting straight to your core.
"Tell me what you see," he whispered, voice a low and gravelly vibration against your ear.
You swallowed hard, voice trembling as you focused on the reflection. "You...you touching me," you breathed.
As you spoke, you watched your own body react. Your breathing picked up, turning into shallow, jagged gasps. In the mirror, you saw your breasts heaving, the nipples peaking and hardening into tight, sensitive points through the lace of your bra. As if reading your thoughts, Deanโs other hand reached around, his fingers finding one breast and gripping it. He massaged the hardened peak, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and you let out a sharp, involuntary swallow, head tilting back slightly.
"And what's at the end of me?" he asked, voice humming with a dark, sensual curiosity.
"Me," you whispered, the word barely leaving your lips.
"What else?" he pressed, fingers continuing that relentless, circling motion. He was forcing you to stay present, stripping away your ability to hide in your head or focus on his pleasure. He wanted you trapped in your own skin.
You stared at yourself, hyper-aware of every inch of your anatomy. "Beauty marks," you murmured, noticing the small moles on your thighs and torso that you usually ignored.
"And here?" he asked, his thumb flicking the tip of your nipple.
"Hardened nipples," you gasped, eyes fluttering.
"And on your skin..." he prompted, his fingers quickening their pace, the friction against your clit becoming more insistent and demanding.
"Goosebumps," you whimpered. You could see them breaking out across your shoulders and arms, a physical manifestation of the arousal peaking within you.
The sensory overload was dizzying. Every time you named a part of yourself, the pleasure seemed to intensify, as if acknowledging your own body was unlocking a door you'd kept bolted shut. Deanโs fingers were no longer just circling, they were fluttering, vibrating against your most sensitive spot with a precision that made your hips instinctively buck back against him. You felt the wetness flooding out of you and coating his fingers, making the sounds of his touch wet and explicit in the quiet room.
You tried desperately to keep your eyes locked on his in the mirror but as the pleasure climbed, the world began to blur. Your eyelids grew heavy, the edges of your vision darkening as the sensation centered entirely on the point where he was rubbing you. You started to moan, the sounds raw but still shy, escaping your throat without your permission. You pushed your backside harder against the rigid length of his erection, craving the friction, the completion.
The tension in your lower belly coiled tighter and tighter, a spring winding up to the point of snapping. You were right there, on the precipice, the beginning of an orgasm shimmering just out of reach. Your breath became a series of broken sobs as your body trembled in anticipation. Was this it?
"I think...Iโ" you started, voice breaking as the first wave of a climax seemed to form but just before it solidified, just as you were about to believe it would, Dean abruptly pulled his hand away.
The sudden void was shocking. You gasped, body jolting from the abrupt loss of stimulation, the orgasm denied at the very last second of creation. You were left vibrating, aching and halfway undone but before you could process the frustration, he gripped your waist and turned you around in his arms so you were facing him.ย
Your eyes were wide, glazed with lust and confusion, chest heaving as you looked up at him.
"What the hell are you doing?" you asked, voice a breathless wreck.
Dean didn't answer immediately. He just looked at you, taking in the desperate hunger in your eyes. He gripped your hips firmly, knuckles white and began backing up toward the bed, pulling you with him.
"Trusting you to do it first," he murmured.
As the back of his knees hit the mattress, he let himself fall back, laying flat on his back and spreading his arms wide, leaving himself completely open and vulnerable to you.
You climbed over him, your movements determined, fueled by a desperate, humming need that had been wound tight in the mirror. You braced your knees against his sides, feeling the hard muscle of his thighs beneath you and planted one hand firmly on his chest. Beneath your palm, you could feel his heart hammering a frantic rhythm, a mirror to your own. With a renewed sense of determination, you slipped your other hand beneath the fabric of your panties, your fingers finding the slick, swollen heat of your pussy.
As you began to touch yourself, you closed your eyes for a moment, repeating the litany he had forced you to acknowledge in the mirror. You focused on the hyper-awareness he had instilled in you, turning that mental lens inward. You found your clit, already engorged and sensitive and began to circle it. Your breathing became ragged, each exhale a shaky shudder that vibrated through your entire frame.
You opened your eyes and looked down at your hand on his chest. You watched the way his pectorals heaved under your touch, his skin flushed and warm. Then, you felt his hands slide up your legs, his large palms gripping your thighs firmly. The sheer intensity of his gaze, the way he watched your every movement with a hunger that felt almost tangible, made a low moan escape your throat.
You had never reached this point before, never felt this close to the edge of something so profound. The pleasure was a rising tide, threatening to pull you under.
"Be patient," Dean breathed, his voice a low, grounding rumble that seemed to vibrate through the mattress and into your bones. "Listen to your body."
You nodded, eyes locked onto his and focused entirely on the sensation. You ignored the noise in your head, everything except the friction of your own fingers. You kept your hand working at a speed you liked, a steady, rhythmic pressure that built a coil of tension in your lower belly. You began to squirm, hips rocking in a slow, undulating motion against your own hand, chasing the spark.
In your haze of arousal, you shifted, pressing your soaking wet clothed cunt directly onto the rigid length of his erection through his pants. The sudden, blunt pressure against your clit sent a shockwave of pleasure through you and you let out a loud, uncontrolled moan. Dean groaned in response, a sound of pure, tortured restraint as he kept his hips from jerking upward to meet you.
You quickly lifted your hips again, holding them high in the air, body arching as you fought to maintain the rhythm.
โHoly fuck,โ You were so close now, the world was narrowing down to the point where your fingers met your flesh.
"Attagirl. That's it," Dean whispered, voice thick with praise. "You're doing so good. Just like that...look at you, taking it all in. So fucking worth it."
His words were like fuel to the fire. The praise made you bolder and movements more frantic. You pressed harder, your fingers fluttering with an urgency that bordered on desperation until the tension reached a breaking point, a white-hot spark that suddenly ignited into a roaring flame.
The orgasm hit you like a physical blow. Your head snapped back, your spine arching as the first wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your lips parted and an unreal, unabashed sound, a high, keening cry of release slipped out of you, echoing through the room. It was your first time ever coming and the sensation was overwhelming. It didn't just peak and fade, it rolled through you in long, rhythmic pulses that seemed to last forever, shaking your entire body, leaving your muscles twitching and your mind a complete blank.
Dean didn't move. He looked at you, completely mesmerized, eyes wide and unblinking. He watched the way your throat worked as you gasped for air, the way your breasts heaved and the way your body shuddered under the aftershocks. Beneath you, his cock throbbed and twitched painfully against the constraint of his pants, a visible manifestation of the agony and ecstasy of watching you shatter.
As the waves finally subsided, leaving you limp and floating, you collapsed onto his chest with a sultry whine, skin damp with sweat and breathing heavy and synchronized with his as you caught your breath.
The silence of the room was thick, charged with the lingering electricity of the moment.
You swallowed hard while still catching your breath, voice a mere whisper against his skin. "Is it too soon to say that was the best orgasm I've ever had?"
Dean let out a heavy, uneven breath beneath you, the sound shuddering straight through his chest and into yours. Only then did his hands finally leave your thighs. Slowly, almost cautiously, they slid upward along your sides until his palms settled against your back.
Gone was the restraint that had kept his fingers tense and controlled earlier. Now he touched you lightly, almost reverently, fingertips drifting along the curve of your spine over the lace while he tried to steady his breathing. Every few seconds his hands flexed against you instinctively, like he still couldnโt quite believe what had just happened.
โDefinitely the best one Iโve ever had,โ he murmured.
His voice sounded wrecked, dizzy, like simply watching you come apart on top of him had pushed him somewhere dangerously close to losing it himself.
You lifted your head slowly from where it rested against his chest, pushing up enough to properly look at him.
Dean blinked up at you lazily, pupils completely blown.
You swallowed once. โDid youโฆ?โ
The question barely finished forming before Deanโs expression morphed into something sheepish and amused all at once. He swallowed too before nodding once against the mattress.
Your eyes widened slightly as his hand slid upward from your back, fingertips brushing softly along your jaw while he looked at you with an expression so openly fond it almost hurt to hold eye contact with him.
โAm I still not deserving of a kiss?โ he asked quietly. Half joking, half absolutely not.
You hummed thoughtfully like you were genuinely considering it. โYou want a cookie and a gold star too?โ
Deanโs grin spread slowly across his face, matching yours instantly despite the pleasure still weighing down his features. โBetter than the survey.โ
You laughed softly through your nose before finally leaning down the rest of the way.
The kiss was warm, searing and long overdue.
Deanโs hand moved instantly to the back of your head, holding you in place like heโd been waiting weeks to finally do exactly this. It started slow for approximately two seconds, soft lips parting against yours carefully, almost disbelievingly, before weeks of tension snapped apart all at once.
You melted into him with a breathless sound as his mouth pressed harder against yours.
Dean kissed like he did everything else, thoroughly.
His thumb pushed lightly beneath your jaw, tilting your head back enough for him to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against yours slow at first, exploratorily, before the restraint heโd been clinging to all night dissolved completely. The taste of him, the warmth of his mouth and the low groan that rumbled out of his chest when you kissed him back with equal desperation made your stomach tighten all over again.
The kiss quickly turned messy, hungry. You could barely catch your breath between them, mouths reconnecting instantly every time you pulled apart for air like neither of you could tolerate the distance anymore. Deanโs grip tightened on your hair as his other hand spread wide against your back, dragging you flush against him while his tongue swept against yours again, deeper this time, making heat rush straight through your body.
So much for rules.
Seems like Six Flags had just been privatised for a single Agent Provocateur wearerโฆindefinitely.
a/n: Comments, likes and reblogs really do mean the world and help more than you know! More stories will be added to the archive soon, so stay tuned for new content. Thank you so much for reading! ๐ค
