mii

albert wesker (any rendition)

Do you need to be in a relationship first?

No, it wouldn't be important to Wesker if you were in a relationship or not first. He doesn't come off as the type of guy to believe the notion that first times are sacred.

Who initiates?

Probably you. I can't see him being too pushy/eager to have sex, as he seems like he would have a fairly tame-to-low sex drive, tbh.

Although, that doesn't mean he's against it or other displays of affection. He's just not horny 24/7 (for some reason, despite all of the smut that i've written, i am utterly and completely intimidated by the word "horny." this word is my achilles heel. i fear that i will never escape it's incredible power to make me want to fall to the floor and sob at its horrific-ness. however, today, i have powered through it for you, with only a few tears and trembles involved).

What kind of foreplay?

I feel like his go-to foreplay in this situation would be kissing and fingering, honestly. Very basic foreplay, nothing too insane.

He'd probably keep eye contact with you the entire time he fingered you, too.

How long does it last?

The entire ordeal, from foreplay to finishing, would probably last less than 30 mins. I feel like he'd be skilled at both foreplay and penetration itself, and would get straight to the point.

I also feel like he would try to be a little nicer and more sweet during your first as compared to any other time. Just as a courtesy thing.

I doubt he would drag things out/tease you too much for your first time, unless you wanted him to.

Is it good?

Yeah, it'd be good sex. Although, if you're a romantic, it might be a little disappointing if you have an idealized "first time" in mind.

Overall? Probably a 7/10. Somewhere between average to pretty decent sex.

carlos oliveira (re3r)

Do you need to be in a relationship first?

If he knows you're a virgin? Yeah. If he doesn't know? Nope!

Tbh, I feel like he would forget to ask, and would just automatically assume you've done-the-deed before. Although, he'd probably figure out at some point building up to penetration, in which case, he'd most likely pull back and offer to get to know you better first.

Who initiates?

Could go either way. I can see him respecting that first times are important, and thus not bringing it up until you mention it or get overly touchy. However, he likely would try to gently tip-toe around the topic -- he'd make a lot of jokes about it, get a little touchy, put himself out there more by dressing or smelling nice -- all to gauge where you're at or to put the idea in your head.

What kind of foreplay?

Anything. Everything. Whatever you want -- getting oral, being fingered, sucking him off or fingering him (if you're into that) -- he'd do it.

HOWEVER. There would be some limits -- I don't think he'd do anything too crazy. He would try to keep it fairly vanilla for your first time. He'd tell you that he'd be willing to do whatever in the future (WITHIN BOUNDS...), but your first time should be like a 'trial period' or something like that.

How long does it last?

I feel like out of every other character on this list, sex with Carlos would take the longest. And most of it would probably be foreplay.

I'd also bet that he'd be able to last a good amount of time during penetration as well. He knows his limits, and if he starts getting close, he'll change positions or use some other method to prolong intercourse.

Is it good?

YES. I feel like if you like passionate, whirlwind-like displays of affection, then Carlos would be the best one for you out of all the other characters on this list. He knows what he's doing, and he knows where to touch in order to make you feel good.

Overall? Around an 8 or 9/10. He would not fail to sweep you off your feet.

chris redfield (re8)

Do you need to be in a relationship first?

For RE8 Chris? No, probably not. If you want to go, he's ready -- relationship or not.

Who initiates?

In a lot of scenarios, most likely Chris. I see it being a very, "Are you ready yet? How about now?" kind of thing (dude's ready to get it ON).

What kind of foreplay?

He'd probably prefer having you give him oral. If you wanted something too, though, he'd be willing to do it -- fingering, oral, etc.

Not too into kissing -- he'd rather make eye contact with you while playing with you or touching you in general.

I don't think he'd make a big deal out of it if you wanted to do kinkier stuff for your first time. He'd likely go along with it, thinking that since it's your first time, and you asked, it'd be fine (he'd also probably be impressed that you wanted to ramp it up, lol).

How long does it last?

An average amount of time. Not too long, not too short.

Same goes for how long he lasts during penetration. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would try to hold his orgasm back, so when it comes, it comes. Although, again, it wouldn't be quick, either.

Is it good?

Yeah, it's not bad. If you're looking for someone to be a little more rough with you for your first time, then Chris is your guy.

Overall, it's a solid 6 or 7/10. Very average sex -- and if you do it again in the future, it's going to be fairly the same. Little to no difference whether it's your first time or...I don't know, billionth? :p

ethan winters (re7, re8)

Do you need to be in a relationship first?

Yep -- partially because Ethan views first times as special, but also because he isn't the type to sleep around. He'd require a relationship first for both your and his sake.

Who initiates?

Ethan, and it's planned. I doubt he'd spring it on you, either -- the two of you would talk it out first, plan a date beforehand, and then after the date...well, you know (yes, I would like to preorder one sex please!)

What kind of foreplay?

Very romantic, sensual foreplay. Kissing, soft touching, etc.

I feel like he'd be open to the basics -- oral for either person (although he'd ensure you it's about you and he doesn't need it), fingering, etc.

How long does it last?

Anywhere from a normal amount of time to slightly more than what's to be expected. I feel like he would really take his time with foreplay, as well as go slow during penetration.

Is it good?

Yes! If you're a romantic at heart, Ethan's going to give you the best first time -- he's going to make sure he does everything right.

Overall, probably an 8 or 9/10. This dude's got it DOWN for deflowering mfs.

leon s. kennedy (re2r)

Do you need to be in a relationship first?

...maybe. I'm gonna say yeah, just because I feel like he'd be a virgin at this point of time too, LOL. He seems like he'd value romantics and wouldn't really sleep around outside of a relationship unless he had very strong feelings for you.

Who initiates?

If you're in a relationship and it's been a decent amount of time since you started dating, probably him. He'd ask you about it and then...yeah.

However, if you're not in a relationship (and he likes you a lot), or you just recently started dating, it'll have to be you who initiates. He's a little reserved, so in either of these scenarios, he won't be the one to ask first.

What kind of foreplay?

Lots of kissing, gentle touching, neck kissing.

Would be fine with oral and fingering on either sides. Out of all the options, though, his preferred pick would be going down on you. Not just for you, but also because he seems like the kind of guy who gets off by seeing his partner get off.

How long does it last?

...oh brother. Anywhere from short to long.

Long because it'd probably take the two of you a while to figure out wtf you were both doing...

...and short because that man probably is not going to last long penetration-wise (LMAO, im so sorry).

He'd offer to go another round to make up for it, though??? Dw, one way or another, he'd make sure you still got off.

Is it good?

...it would GET good. But at the beginning? It's gonna be awkward and clumsy (don't worry, he's a fast learner -- in fact, it likely wouldn't take long in your relationship for him to get the hang of it).

Overall...I'm going to have to give the man a 6/10. I'M SO SORRY. He gets an A for effort, but buddy 'ol pal, that man is not gonna know how to wield the friend in his pants right off the bat !!!

leon s. kennedy (re4r)

Do you need to be in a relationship first?

Still, most likely, yes. Less for his sake, more for yours. He's older now, and probably no longer a virgin, but you are. He's still a romantic at heart, and wouldn't want you to have anything less than special for your first time.

I'm also going to add that, despite him no longer being a virgin, he still doesn't really sleep around outside of relationships much. So, that's an added reason.

Who initiates?

Probably you. I think he would be hesitant initiating since he's experienced, and you're not. He wouldn't want to pressure you in anyway, or turn it into a "ticking clock" kind of thing. He's ready when you're ready!

I'm ngl, I think he'd also be a goddamn yearning mess while waiting. He'd want you SO bad, constantly having to hide his lingering gazes and hard-ons (and he wouldn't be very good at keeping it on the dl, either, LOL).

What kind of foreplay?

Again, lots of kissing, gentle touching, and neck kissing.

Wouldn't let you give him oral the first time. He's going down on you instead, and any attempts at pleasuring him are quickly denied with gentle redirection (picture him, like, softly grabbing your hands and placing kisses on the inside of your wrists. "Not for your first time. Let me do it instead, okay?").

How long does it last?

The perfect amount of time. Not too short, not too long. Just right.

He could go on for a while now that he knows what he's doing, but he doesn't want to overwhelm you for your first time. So, he does what he needs, and checks all boxes (no pun intended, LOL).

Is it good?

HELL yes. Unless, maybe, you're the kind of person who is more dominant, or mainly gets off from seeing your partner's pleasure. But even then, from all the patient waiting and yearning he's done leading to this moment, I don't think you'd be left with no crumbs, if you get what I'm sayin...

Overall, this is like, an 8/10. Big improvement from before.

leon s. kennedy (re6 - re9)

Do you need to be in a relationship first?

If he knows that you're a virgin? 100%, without a doubt, yes. Considering his age, and that you're probably a lot younger than him, he wouldn't feel right sleeping with you without being in a relationship first.

Now if he doesn't know...then nah. He'd be fine sleeping with you outside of a relationship (although, because of the age gap, I think he might feel a little guilty or insecure about his age...)

Who initiates?

Either person, but most likely you. In the case that it's you, I don't think he'd put up much of a fight. Like his re4r counterpart, I think he'd be a yearning mess, wishing he could be with you, but too scared to make a move. Except this time, it's because he's insecure about how old he is and how young you are.

If it's him...well, he probably couldn't hold back anymore. Maybe there was an inciting event, where you had to share the same bed, or he was scared he would lose you...either way, if he initiates, it means he's at his limit...

What kind of foreplay?

Well, if things came about naturally, then probably the very gentle, soft kind. Feathery kisses, whispering caresses, tender grabbing. Lazy and lasting oral. Slow and deep fingering.

If things came about suddenly...then it's going to be the fervent and passionate kind. I'm talking breathless kissing, light or heavy biting, oral and fingering that leaves you seeing STARS...all of that and more (good luck trying to MOVE in the morning!)

How long does it last?

Naturally? The perfect amount of time, like his re4r counterpart.

Suddenly? Then quickly. He's just not in the right headspace to be aware of how to pace himself. He is FERAL for you, and needs you now.

Is it good?

Either way, YES. Without a doubt, this man knows what he's doing by now.

9/10, and dare I say it, maybe even 10/10 (re6 & re9 Leon FUCKSSS!)

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dean has always been good at taking care of you, especially during sex. the last couple of months with him have been quite productive — and honestly, borderline pornographic if were to say. he taught you little things that past relationships wouldn´t even dare comparing to.

after spending countless nights next to other women, dean had huge amounts of experience in bed — knowing the right pressure to apply on your tummy when you were close, or the way he flicked his tongue around your clit that made you see stars and heaven all above.

so in exchange of his great service to you so far, you decided you wanted to focus on making him feel good, taking your sweet time to please him & letting every deliberate touch show him exactly what he makes you feel.

you decided that tonight was your night, eyeing him already from the bathroom door as he laid in bed, back propped up against the headboard.

his eyes were fluttered shut beneath the weight of his arm, shirt riding up just enough to reveal the smooth line of his lower abdomen, the fabric stretching around his broad bicep deliciously.

a small sigh escaped from his lips as he totally relaxed into the bed, the heaviness of the day slowly seeping off from his shoulders.

the sight of him already made you weak to your knees, clamping your thighs together, desire rapidly coursing through your body as your heart thudded against your ribcage in anticipation.

you were quick to move closer to him, legs draping over his jean-clad thighs, sitting on his lap. he took off his arm from his face in a swift move, eyes widening as he let his gaze wander lower.

he licked his lips at the sight, taking in your barely clothed figure — the collar of his favorite zeppelin shirt slipping off your shoulder & a pair of cotton panties. fuck, you were a sight for sore eyes.

his hands travelled to your hips, keeping you in place as a smirk graced his face. you could already feel the bulge of his crotch grow tighter against his jeans, making him shift uncomfortably underneath you.

¨needy tonight, sweetheart?¨ he hums, hands creeping up your shirt, gently caressing the skin underneath.

¨dean..¨ you started, leaning closer to him with a slow roll of your hips, earning a small groan from him.

¨.. i was thinking..¨ you mumbled out, breath fanning over his neck, sending a quiet shiver down his spine. his grip on you grew tighter, tilting his head back to give you more access. ¨i wanna take care of you this time baby..¨

dean´s breath caught in his throat — a soft, ragged breath escaped him at the feeling of how your lips linked to his sweet spot, teeth grazing over the area. he couldn´t help but stifle out a moan, crotch rutting against your clothed cunt making you whimper against him.

¨mph, baby..´´ he rasped out, his grip keeping you flush against him as he let his fingers dig into your skin, rough and desperate.

¨you wanna take care of me, pretty?¨ he murmured, voice lowering to a huskier tone while he placed his hand on the waistband of your panties, slightly tugging at them.

you nodded against him, pulling away from his neck to look at him. he could already feel the neediness radiate off your body — cheeks flushed as your batted your eyelashes at him. god, how could he say no to you looking like that?

¨then take care of me baby, ´´ a beat passed, his eyes flickering to your lips. ¨show me how much you want me.¨

that´s all you needed before crushing your lips against his in a desperate kiss. he eagerly leaned into it, lips moving hungrily against yours as he deepened the kiss, tongue diving into your mouth and exploring every inch.

you were quick to discard what little clothing you had on, as dean followed suit. you positioned yourself on top of him, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you felt his tip rub against your folds, precum dripping down his thick shaft.

dean throws his head back as he moans — low in pitch and erratic — hands gripping your hips like he’s afraid you´d run away. you lower yourself on him, whining as he stretched you out so fucking good, the girth of his tip kissing your cervix.

you rocked your hips back and forth, picking up pace as dean watched you from below, the scene in front of him downright sinful — eyes locked on the bounce of your tits and the moans that slipped past your lips, eyes watery and rolling back in pleasure.

¨fuckkk baby— you ride me so good mama¨ he groaned against you, hands fumbling with your tits as his gaze lowered to where the two of you connected, enjoying the way your pussy sucked him up while his dick abused your tight hole.

¨a—ah dean, m´ close..¨ you moaned breathlessly — a tight, coiling feeling tensing in your stomach while you continued humping on him. his grip on your hips never wavered, incoherent mumbles spilling from his lips as he felt himself tip over the edge.

¨go on baby, show me how good i make you feel¨, he cooed, lips attaching to your cleavage, ¨tell me how much this pussy loves taking my dick¨

you felt the air get knocked out your lungs as you came, waves of pleasure washing over you as your legs trembled around him, the length of his cock twitching inside you. he came seconds after, hips rutting into you, milking out every single drop.

¨oh fuck¨ he grunted, chest rising and falling as he watched you pull away, a rough sound catching in his throat at the sudden empty feeling. he paused — gaze searching yours, confusion written on his face. ¨sweetheart where are you—¨

you moved closer to the edge of the bed, propping yourself on your elbows as your hands went straight to his dick, making him hiss in pleasure.

¨fuck baby.. still need more?¨ he chuckled teasingly, a pathetic whimper leaving his lips as he felt your tongue glide all the way from the base to the tip, kissing it gently.

your half-lidded gaze searched his — all soft and doe-eyed as you gave him a sweet smile, a warm feeling gnawing at his chest. god, how he loved whenever you looked at him like that.

¨i told you i wanted to take care of you baby..¨ you rasped out, your warm breath fanning his dick as he whined at the feeling, his cock hardening against your hands.

´´mm and you are sweetheart, such a good girl f´me¨ a struggled moan bubbled up his throat at the feeling of you — slowly and deliberately taking him in, your lewd sounds resonating against his cock as you sucked him dry, tasting your arousal on him.

his fingers threaded through your hair, pushing you down on him gently as he felt you gag against his length. you could feel tears forming in your eyes, eyelashes wet and desperate moans leaving your lips — feeling him deeper inside you.

¨god, if you continue like that baby, you´re gonna make me cum—¨ he groaned, hips thrusting deep into your throat with raw need.

you could tell from his body language that he was close to reaching his climax, bobbing your head around his shaft while your tongue did wonders on his tip.

¨juuust like that baby, fuck— m´ so close¨ his heavy gaze found yours again, brows knitted in pleasure as he came on your tongue, eyes never leaving the way you swallowed him whole, salty liquid gliding down your throat.

you released from him with a ¨pop!¨ sound — a broken gasp escaping you. you felt how his calloused thumb swiped across your chin, picking up some of his release and pressing it against your mouth, eyes fixed in the way your tongue sucked him up greedily.

¨c´mere..¨ he panted, hooded eyes and a lazy grin plastered on his face while his hands crowded your face, drawing you closer to him — wanting, no — needing to feel you against him.

your lips sealed together in a messy kiss, tongues melting into each other as he tasted himself on your tongue — the feeling completely intoxicating, a small whimper arising from the back of his throat.

dean lets out a low, shuddering groan into the kiss, his hips giving one last helpless roll upward, chasing the contact even as you pulled away.

¨christ sweetheart¨ he breathed once the kiss finally broke, his eyes dark and hazy in satisfaction. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

he pulled you back down gently, forehead resting against yours, breathing you like he couldn’t get enough.

the weeks were unbearably long. three, long, boring weeks - twenty one days - where all you could really do is call some friends, walk around the house, stare out the window. you really did try to occupy yourself, you did! it was so unbearable, though. the second week in, it started to get a little easier in the sense that you found more to do with yourself: cook, clean up - jesus, ben would accuse you of some shit like 'nesting' if he saw you like this - take more care of yourself. the closet saw an influx of silken nightdresses and sheer nightgowns, and they joined the ones that ben loved to see you in.

he was meant to be gone for more than a month, really, on deployment in payback with all of those people who he titled gracefully "idiots," "fuckin' ingrates," and "embarrassments to his country." when he'd told you how long he was going away for, you'd whined and he'd told you to stop throwing a bitch fit. you'd hated him for a solid ten minutes before he walked out of the door and you felt very sad, and very empty.

halfway through the third week, though, ben couldn't stand it. his poor, lovely girl is home with nothing to do. every night, he thought about how needy and sad you must be, empty and alone - maybe he was exaggerating things for his own benefit, considering how much he loved you when you were desperate in that nice, 'wide eyes, downturned lips, pleading gaze' way. that was a good one, for sure; he wants it as a polaroid in his wallet.

...and so, he just had to go home early. payback's highest paid idiots could do fine without him, considering they barely knew how to listen to a single instruction without him screaming it in their deaf ears. that's why he came home, y'know, for you.

it's such a nice sight - a damn refreshing one - to see you swaying around the bedroom, your hips doing a careless side-to-side, your arms raising, dropping, your neck rolling. it's so nice. the record that's playing skips, and you're broken out of your lazy stupor by the creak of the floorboards, and the unmistakeable sound of ben's boots hitting the floor. you turn, and you watch him stand in the doorway, a sleazy, fond smirk on his face.

"ben!" you practically squeal at him, a grin lighting up your face, and wrap your arms around him, going up on your toes to pepper his face with kisses. he picks you up, hands settling under your ass.

"you missed me that much?" he murmurs, one hand coming up to grab your face so he can kiss you on the mouth, his stubble scratching your cheek. "this is such a nice greeting, baby."

"missed you so, so much, daddy." you affirm, and don't complain as he sits on the couch, taking you with him so you're perched on his lap like some comfortable, bright-eyed kitten.

he laughs against your mouth; it's a rough, amused sound, slightly condescending, and it makes you feel so warm inside, and your press yourself against his thigh, lips parting so he can run his tongue against your teeth, your gums, your own tongue. ben was a filthy kisser. "lookit you, sweetheart. are you that pent up that you need my thigh? yeah, go on. c'mon, honey." and then, muttered, fond. "fuckin' mutt."

you do get yourself off on his thigh, rubbing your already slick, panty-covered cunt against the rough fabric of his pants, your face buried in his neck as you whine pathetically. his quiet murmuring - obviously meant for you to hear - goes straight to your head, and you nod stupidly, wordless.

"yeah?" he answers your weak nod, a hand guiding your movements, letting you rut against his thigh, pushing you forward harder than he lets you move back. "fuckin' close to soakin' my pants, hon-" and then, tutting as you slow your movements, his hand dips lower, right between your thighs, cupping your clothed cunt. "-real fuckin' close. you're leakin' like a faucet, slut, and i haven't even done nothin' yet. c'mon, show me your face. attagirl..."

your head comes up from his neck, your face flustered and your lips parted. your chest rises and falls rapidly, shimmering with the beginnings of sweat. "feels good," you mumble, hands grabbing at his shirt to drag yourself closer to him. ben's hand comes up, up, squeezing at your tit through your nightdress without shame, thumbing at your hardening nipple.

"i know, honey. i know, it always feels good with daddy, doesn't it?" he coos, and you whine in response as he bobs his leg under you, making you jolt a little, cheeks pinkening. heat builds low in your belly, tight like a band, and it makes your thighs tighten and your mouth hang open.

"c'mon, needa get an orgasm outta you before i can fuck you good."

your body agrees, clearly, and you feel the warmth build, and you writhe against him as he holds you in place firmly on his thigh, moving you. your orgasm feels like the first in, well, weeks - which is true, it kind of is. your eyes squeeze shut, and the slick between your thighs becomes more sticky, more uncomfortable as you ride it out on

“Your children are awake.” You murmur in Dean’s ear, and he chuckles. 

“My children, huh?” 

“Yep.” 

He hums, pulling you tighter into his arms. His nose grazes against the back of your neck, his lips finding a soft spot that’s still sensitive from last night. 

Date night. 

Sam and Eileen had watched the kids, and you’d gone on the rare, near-extinct date night. They’d been scared after Charlie. Nearly unheard of after Ella. 

How you’d ended up with Mavis, because Dean liked to groan in your ear about filling you up and getting you pregnant again, and you always forget that when he uses his sex voice, you forget how to say no to him.

And you think he might have a deal with some supernatural force, that he won’t kill them if they keep rolling the dice in his favor. Because he’d gotten number three. If he keeps this up—nuzzling your bare skin, running his strong hand up your thigh and along the crease of your panties, like he’s trying to brand his path from last night—he’s going to get number four. 

Because you’d forgotten the dangers of date night. It’s not like you’re never romantic outside of it. Not like you never touch each other. There had been a pretty close call a few months ago, where Charlie had a nightmare, Dean had forgotten to lock the door, and you’d only just had enough reaction time to shove him deeper under the covers and pull them over your breasts. 

But date night is a different beast. Date night reminds you that you can’t slam down six shots anymore, because you get wasted after one. 

Date night is devoted completely to Dean, acting like he’s never going to see you again once the sun rises.

Fucking you like he hasn’t been allowed to in twenty years. Trying to make you loud, because there are no kids to hide from. 

Doing his stupid, hot drawl, and fucking his cum back into you after you’re done. 

Which is exactly how you ended up with Mavis. 

So yeah. Right now, they’re his children. 

“They gonna break the door down, De.” You mumble, resting your hand over his. It’s snaked under your shirt, splayed on your stomach. Like he can’t even help himself. 

He pulls you closer. Kisses right under your ear. “Let ‘em. Buys us more time.”

“Dean, I’m barely wearing anything-“

“I know. ’S hot.”

You twist to glare at him, and he just grins back. The wide, smug and boyish grin that used to make you want to shove him until he landed on his ass, then climb on top of him and let him have whatever he wanted from you. It still does the latter. But now it’s accompanied by a rush of affection, and a stupid smile of your own. 

He’s such an idiot. 

But he’s your idiot. And you adore him. 

You lean forward, and kiss the corner of his mouth. His hand shoots up to cradle the back of your head, trying to deepen the kiss. You let him, and he groans into your mouth. You roll further over, hiking your leg over his hip. He grabs your ass, squeezing it once, and your hips roll against his growing crotch. 

“Already standing at attention, Mr. Winchester?” You mumble into the kiss, and he grunts. 

“Not as old as you think I am.”

You giggle, running your nails down his chest. “I dunno. You’re pretty old- Dean-“

He takes your words as a challenge. Of course he does. 

You squeal as he flips you over, grumbles about bein’ young enough to keep up with your smartass, and starts to grind his erection over your core. Your back arches, you moan into his mouth, your body goes loose as his hands start to wander anywhere he can grab, and- 

“Daddy!” 

Dean freezes over you, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling again. He looks like someone just handed him a massive pie only to yank it away. Like this is somehow the worst thing to ever happen to him. 

The door to your bedroom rattles, being pounded by at least two tiny fists. Dean groans, and drops his face into your shoulder. 

“Daddy, why is the door locked?” That’s Ella, and you hear the doorknob rattle. 

You can almost hear Charlie’s eye roll. “Because he locked it, stupid.”

“I’m not stupid.” Ella shrieks. “Daddy, Charlie called me stupid!”

“No, I didn’t-“

“Yes, you did- Daddy-“ You can hear the tears coming. “Daddy, tell Mommy Charlie called me stupid-“

Dean sighs, and you smile at him as he pushes up. 

“You’re a saint,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbles, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Get some rest, baby.”

You try to move up to your elbows. “I can help-“

“Nope.” Dean gently shoves you back down, pulling the sheets higher over your body. “Sleep in. I got it.”

You start to protest, but Dean leans down and kisses the breath right out of your mouth.

“They’re my children.” He smirks against your lips. “I gottem.”

If you had a stronger will, you’d tell him they were your children too. That you wanted to help, and you’d just been teasing before, and if Ella does start crying it’s going to take a full half-hour to calm her down, so he’ll need two pairs of hands. 

But you’ve long learned that, when it comes to Dean, you have no will at all. So you let him tuck you back in, and close your eyes as he shuffles out of bed. 

There are delighted shrieks from your daughters, as he reveals himself. Then louder screams of accusations and requests to see you and let you settle it. 

Dean shushes them softly, closing the door behind him.

“Mommy’s sleeping, girls.” You hear, muffled through the door. “Let’s go hold tribunal in the kitchen.”

He herds them away, and you smile into the pillow. He’s got it. 

You fall back asleep easily, your face buried in Dean’s abandoned pillow. When you get up, the sun has long risen, and is leaking peacefully through the blinders. You move slowly, because there’s no rush anymore. 

Dean made you buy a real house, after Charlie started at preschool. He’d almost begged you to leave the bunker, to move to somewhere quiet and good. Somewhere the girls could have playdates. That he could mow the lawn, and sit on the porch. Where you could decorate together, and only babyproof the stairs instead of a whole series of weapons rooms and dungeons. 

It hadn’t taken that much convincing. And Dean had done most of the moving and housework himself, stopping every second to ask your opinion but committing himself to the renovation. 

You mentioned, in passing, that maybe he should hire contractors. Just for the kitchen and the bathrooms. 

He’d taken it personally, and done the whole thing with only a little help from Cas. Then he’d picked you up, and fucked you on the counter with an expression so smug you’d worried he’d burst his head. 

But he deserved it. He’d made a damn nice kitchen. 

He’d knocked you up again, and proved that you did in fact, need a bigger, safer house. The bunker is nothing but an echo of a memory, for Charlie. Ella and Mavis will never step foot in those long, dark halls at all. 

There are no more cartoons in the Dean Cave, where he’d balance Charlie on his knee and watch Scooby Doo until one of them—usually Dean—passed out. Now you have the little, sunlight filled den off the living room. 

You lean in the doorway, smiling silently as you watch the four of them. Charlie sitting next to Dean, rocking back and forth, watching the TV with wide eyes. Ella playing on the floor, obviously listening but tucked in her own little world. Dean sprawled on the couch, Mavis napping on his chest as he watches the cartoon with the exact same—if not more intent—expression as Charlie. 

Ella sees you first. Shouts Mommy, and rushes across the room to wrap herself around your leg. 

“Hi, baby,” you murmur, picking her up and kissing her brow. “You having fun?”

She nods eagerly, pulling at your hair. “Daddy made waffles.” 

“Did he?” You glance to Dean, who grins lazily at you. 

“They said please.”

“Hmm.” You look back to Ella. “Did Daddy let you have syrup?”

Ella gives you a toothy grin, leaning to whisper in your ear. “I finished the bottle.”

Dean cringes—Ella’s terrible at whispering—and you shoot him a half-amused, half-exasperated look. 

“That bottle was almost full-“

“Hey, I had more than she did.” He raises his hand in surrender. “And it was a compromise.

“Daddy.” Charlie snaps, whacking Dean’s leg. “Watch the TV.”

Dean frowns. “I am watching, kiddo.”

She shoots him an unimpressed look. “You’re talking to Mommy.”

“Well, Mommy is beautiful, and deserves being talked to, and looked at, and she can be a lot more entertaining than the TV-“

“Dean.”

 He winks at you, and Ella giggles.

“Daddy’s in trouble.”

“No.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Not yet.”

Dean chuckles. “Promises, sweetheart.”

Goddamn the man. “Never mind, Ella. Daddy is in trouble.”

For someone who’s about to be dropkicked, Dean looks pretty fucking smug with himself. His voice is the low, promising drawl that he’s not supposed to use around the kids, because he knows what it does to you. 

“Daddy is doing everything he’s supposed to,” his grin widens, at the murderous look in your eyes. “And you haven’t even heard about the deal he got with the girls. They got hustled, baby, you’ll be proud of him.”

You give him a flat look. “Stop referring to yourself in the third person, Daddy.”

His eyes light up, and dropkicking is too light a punishment. “Yes, ma’am. You wanna hear my deal?”

You sigh, but nod, brushing a little hair out of Ella’s eyes. Dean grins.

“They got the sugar. Didn’t fight me on brushin’ their teeth or the veggies.”

You raise your brows, looking between Ella and Charlie. “You ate your veggies?”

Charlie nods, still mostly focused on the TV, and Ella grabs your face between her hands with that same happy grin.

It’s Dean’s smile. 

Sometimes you wonder if he’d be this happy all the time, if it wasn’t for John. 

“I had carrots.” Ella whispers. “And tomatoes.”

“And tomatoes?” You laugh softly, looking back to Dean. “I think Uncle Sam will be happy to hear about that.”

Dean grunts, even as his lips twitch. “Uncle Sam let the little monsters finish the ice cream last night. Mae burped half of it up on my-“ He pauses, glancing at Charlie next to him. “Freakin’ shirt.”

“I’ll wash it tonight.” You hum, kissing Ella’s cheek before setting her down, and walking over to the couch. Dean slings his free arm over your shoulders, as you settle into the cushions next to him. You hold out your arms, and he passes Mavis over carefully. Her little hands grab at his fingers, and she makes a small sound of displeasure from being ripped out of Dean’s arms. You understand that. You’ve done the same. 

She settles, once she realizes that she’s not just being passed off to some stranger. Her arms wrap around your neck, but they’re not that long and just end up grabbing weakly at your shoulders. You shift her to be more comfortable, and lean your head on Dean’s shoulder. 

He kisses the top of your head, and you sigh contentedly. Watch Ella return to her toys, letting the peace settle over you. 

“I can wash my own shirt, baby.” Dean mutters in your ear, low enough that Charlie won’t realize he’s not paying attention. 

“It’s okay, you got them up-“

“One day. You do all the others.”

“Because you have to go to work-“

“You work too, baby.” He sighs, pressing his face into your neck. “Lemme clean the damn shirt.”

“No. I want to.” You twist slightly, smiling down at him and keeping your voice hushed. “But I’ll wear it after. With nothing else.”

“C’mon…” Dean groans, like you’re physically hurting him. “Are you trying to kill me, baby?”

You giggle. “No”

“You can still do- That.” He squeezes your thigh. “If I wash the damn shirt-“

“You’ll make dinner.” You offer him. “And do bedtime.”

Dean pauses. “Gimme bath time, too.”

“Bath time isn’t hard, Dean-“

“Well, we’re going to the park later.” He shrugs. “I’m gonna need a hazmat.”

You laugh softly, and relent. “Okay. But I get to wash your shirt.”

“Deal.” 

Dean grabs your face and softly turns it for a kiss. Ella, looking up at the exact wrong second, screams in disgust, and Charlie starts yelling at Dean about the cartoons again. Dean takes it in stride. Goes back to watching the TV, after telling Ella that kissing isn’t gross when you love someone, which gets a wrinkled face, and a lot of questions you don’t think Dean was ready for about love. 

You swallow a laugh, as he pales. 

“Uh- I’ll tell you at the park, sweetheart.” 

Ella makes another face. “Why?”

“Cause. It’s a park discussion.”

Ella seems satisfied with that answer, and goes back to her toys. Dean settles back into the cushions with a grunt, his attention on the TV. At some point, you realize you’ve gravitated to half-lying across his body, Mavis still sleepily tucked in your arms. Dean’s warm. Smells like pine trees and leather and just Dean.

You fall asleep again. Dean, the asshole, lets you. When you come to, you’re lying on the couch with a blanket over your body, Mavis gone and the TV off. For a moment, you think you’re alone. Then you feel something shift near your chest, and you lift the blanket with a frown. 

Charlie’s tucked herself against you, one of the more advanced books you got her a week or so ago, barely an inch from her face. 

“Charlie, baby-“ You stifle a yawn, running your fingers through her hair. “What are you doing.”

“Hiding.” She mumbles, not looking away from the book. “Ella wants me to play mermaid with her while we wait for Daddy.”

“And- Where’s Daddy?”

“Changin’ Mae.” 

You smile softly. She’s developing the slipping drawl that Dean has, that even Sam has when he’s tired or unfocused. “You can hide now, but I want you to play with your sister when we get to the park, okay?”

Charlie’s nose wrinkles. “I don’t like mermaids.”

“What do you like?”

Charlie pauses. Thinks about it. “Pirates. And- Cowboys.”

You sigh. If Charlie didn’t look more like you than Dean, you’d wonder if you just got her from a Dean-Clone machine. “Okay. Tell Ella you’re playing pirates and mermaids.”

“But I want to play cowboys and mermaids.”

“Then play cowboys and mermaids.”

“Hm. Fine.” Charlie pauses, and gives you a hopeful expression. “Can I read in the car, Mommy?”

“Yeah, baby.” You kiss the top of her head. “You can read in the car.”

You should probably go check on Ella, or help Dean with Mavis, but you don’t want to move. And when you ask where Ella is playing mermaid, it’s the living room. If you pause, you can hear Ella whispering to herself just outside the door. You’ll hear a scream just fine, and Dean did let you fall asleep. So this one is really on him.

He finds you some time later, holding Mavis in her tiny boots and too-big jacket, covering her hands and almost making her look like a burrito.

“We’re ready to set sail.” He tells you proudly.

You grunt, stretching as you sit up. “Dean, I’m still in my pajamas-“

“Oh no. Can’t let you be comfortable-“

“We’re going in public-“

“I know. Set out some stuff for you on the bed.” He holds out a hand. “C’mon, Charlie. Let’s go put on shoes.”

Charlie grumbles, but moves to her feet. Takes Dean’s hand, holding her book in the other. 

“You takin’ that to the park, Char?”

“Mommy said I could.” She mumbles as they walk away, and Dean nods.

“Well. If Mommy said so.”

You laugh to yourself, and stand back up. He’s got to stop letting you sleep. You’re going to get used to it. 

And Dean did set out clothing for you, because you don’t think he’s capable of not helping. But as much as you adore him, he’s still a man. And he paired the sweatpants, loose shirt, and sweater—the ones he knows you love, because he’s bought you sets in different colors—with your fucking birthday lingerie. The set that makes you look like a stripper and a porn star had a baby with the movie Showgirls. You snort, and almost toss it back in. 

Then you pause. 

The only thing better than Dean trying to fuck you like he knows you’ll cave—you always do, when it’s him—is Dean trying to stop himself from fucking you. And it’s a slow day. There are no plans, tonight. 

You put on the lingerie, and head downstairs. 

You don’t tell him, in the car. You help Ella into her car seat, and slide into the passenger’s seat. Smile at Dean, when he rests his hand on your knee. From the ease of his grin, you’re almost certain he put out the underwear without thinking about it.

He kisses your cheek, before he pulls out of the drive.

A horrible mistake, if his plan about the love questions was to hope Ella would just forget. 

“Gross!” She screams, and Charlie rolls her eyes. 

“Daddy says people kiss when they love each other, Ella. Duh.”

“No!” Ella shakes her head, pulling at the straps of the seat. “Daddy didn’t explain, he might be lying-“

“I’m not lying.” Dean grumbles, and you laugh, squeezing his hand on your leg as Ella protests.

“But you don’t kiss me, you don’t love me-“

“I love you, El. I told you, just love Mommy different.”

Charlie hums knowingly. “Daddy loves Mommy like adults love each other.”

Dean nods. “Exactly, good job, Char-“

“Like he loves Uncle Sammy, and-“

“No.” Dean almost swerves the car, and you choke on the air with a laugh. “No, uh- I love uncle Sammy like you love Ella and Mae, Charlie.”

Charlie makes a face. “I don’t love Ella.”

“Exactly.” Dean mutters, and you shove him. 

“Dean-“

“Aw, c’mon. You know I love Sam-“

“They don’t get jokes, Dean.” You hiss, and he sighs, drumming his fingers on the wheel. 

“Yeah. Alright. Uh…” He frowns at the road, glancing in the rearview mirror. “You guys know how when we go to the bakery, there are a bunch of different kinds of pies?”

Ella and Charlie nod slowly, and Mavis babbles like she understands what’s happening. 

“Well, there are a lotta different kinds of love, too. And just like each pie got different flavors from the stuff they put inside, each love changes ‘cause of what it’s made of. But- Still pie. Still love. That makes sense?”

The girls nod slowly, and Dean puffs out his chest, clearly proud of his answer. You’re proud of his answer. You didn’t expect him to fail, but just like everything else he does, he somehow manages to be better than the stupid high standards he keeps setting for himself-

“What kind of pie do you love us like, Daddy?” Ella asks, kicking her feet, and Dean hums. 

“You and your sisters? Pumpkin.”

Charlie frowns. “What about Uncle Sammy?”

“Apple. But I also love you and Mommy with apple pie.”

“So you love Uncle Sammy less?”

“Nah.” Dean pauses. “I love him kinda pumpkin, too. And- Pecan.”

Ella wrinkles her nose. “What’s pecan?”

“You know your friends at preschool?”

Ella nods, and Dean grins at her in the mirror. 

“That’s pecan.”

“Okay.” Ella looks at you. “How do you love Mommy?”

“Yeah, Daddy.” You give him an amused look, crossing your arms. “How do you love Mommy?”

He smirks. “I love Mommy with apple, and pecan, and cherry, and-“ Something glints in his eyes, and his hand drifts higher on your thigh. “Cream.”

You gape at him, and he laughs. Ella starts kicking her feet again, asking what cherry and cream love is, and if you weren’t seconds from either jumping his bones or shoving him, you’d be impressed by how Dean handles the grave he dug himself. Cherry is a big love that you get for special people. Cream is a love you only get when you’re an adult. Together, that’s how the kissing happens, which is why he only kisses you. 

Very smooth. Ella’s satisfied. 

You’ve never been more certain Dean deserves the torment you’re about to put him through. 

When you get to the park, Dean’s barely unbuckled her before Ella’s barreling out of the car, dragging Charlie behind her as they head for the playground. Dean swears under his breath, jogging to try and keep up with them, and you trail behind with Mavis in your arms. Ella and Charlie run up the massive playset, and Dean drops on the bench with a grunt. You sit down next to him, and he starts taking off his jacket before you can even speak. 

“Dean, you’ll get cold-“

“I run hot. You need it for Mae.”

“Mae is fine-“

“For now. Wind is picking up, baby.” He wraps the coat around you, and you let him with a small smile. “I’ve had the same cold for three months anyway. Gotta stop letting Ella drink some of my orange juice.”

You laugh, leaning into his side. “You know, she gets her own orange juice.”

“She finishes it fast. And I got extra.” He glances down at you. “Warm?”

“Yeah. Some would call it stifling.”

“Don’t know what that word means, sweetheart-“

You roll your eyes. “Yes, you do.”

Dean sighs, leaning down to whisper in Mavis’ ear. “Your mother has too much faith in me-“

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.” He kisses Mavis’ head, and she coos softly. “See? She likes the jacket?”

“She likes the attention.” You say dryly, and Dean chuckles. 

“That makes two of you- Ow-“

You mock bite Dean’s finger, as he teasingly pokes your face. He pouts at you like a wounded animal, even as his eyes sparkle. 

“No touching?” He asks, and you shake your head. 

“No teasing.”

“C’mon, Mae doesn’t understand what I’m saying-“

“I don’t want to ruin your dress-up party.”

Dean blinks at you in confusion. “Huh?”

“You picked out my jacket.” You shrug, letting your smile widen. “And sweater, and pants.”

“Yeah, but- You love those pants-“

“And the underwear.” You lean a little closer, until your noses are almost bumping. “That’s going to get spoiled, if you keep teasing.”

Dean stares at you for a moment, and you can see the exact moment it hits him. His eyes widen, dilating fast, and he gulps.

“I- Uh- I was in a rush-“

“I know.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, dropping your voice to a whisper. “I still put them on. And I’ve been sleeping all day, Winchester. Lot of energy.”

Dean’s voice is barely a rasp. “Yeah.”

“Mm hm.” 

He swallows, hand curling on your thigh. “Can I put the kids to bed now?”

You laugh softly, and shake your head. “Hold it, buddy.”

“But- If I hold it-“

“Early Christmas.” You nod loyally, and he grins. 

“Awesome.”

And Dean holds it. Holds it pretty well. Aside from a few stares, he acts perfectly normal. When Ella and Charlie call him to go play, he kisses you and only mutters one lower, rough promise about being seconds from just pulling you into the public bathroom to see. It doesn’t matter that you’re still holding Mae, and you know he’d never actually do it. He just needs to say or do something, or he starts acting like he’s going to explode.

It’s like that for the rest of the day. In the car, out of the kid’s sight, his hand drags up your thigh. Rests just on the line of acceptable, fingers shifting slowly and teasingly, because he’s an asshole. While you make hot chocolate, he leaves the girls in the bath to get Ella’s favorite towel—the yellow one that’s technically for dishes, but also has ducks on it—and stops at Mavis’ highchair while she chews on your finger. Laughs, and says he likes eating Mommy’s too. When he helps Charlie with her “homework”—she’s barely in first grade, it’s just writing down numbers—he declares very loudly that his favorite numbers are six and nine. 

“Why?” Charlie frowns at him, and he coughs. 

“Uh- They got good curves. Fun to draw.”

“Oh.” Charlie nods. “Yeah.”

She goes back to trying to figure out an eight. You flip him off over her head.  

“One day they’re going to get the jokes, you know.” You tell him in the kitchen, keeping an eye on Mavis in her playpen. Ella keeps poking her head over, and whispering something that makes Mavis giggle and wave her arms. 

“Then I’ll get more subtle.” Dean shrugs. “Pass me the salt, baby.”

You hand him the shaker with a sigh. “Dean, my handsome dummy-“

“Aw. You think I’m handsome?”

“Dean-“

“You have a crush on me-“

“Shut up and cut the cucumber.”

He laughs, starting to chop the vegetable. “You always pay more attention to my cucumber than me-“

“Keep it up and your cucumber isn’t getting any attention at all.”

“Oh, princess.” Dean winks at you, and your thighs press together. “You gotta build up a rep, before you make that kinda threat.”

You glare at him. “I have a rep-“

“Yeah, my cucumber can still feel it from last night.”

He laughs, as you grab the wooden spoon and whack his arm. His pace doesn’t falter on the cucumbers, and when he looks at you again, it takes everything in you to keep upright under the almost feral gleam in his eyes.

“Y’know, I’m keeping a list.” He drawls, looking back to the cucumbers. “You tease me, I tease you. Make me eat veggies this morning-“

“I did not make you eat veggies-“

“Had to, if I wanted Charlie and Ella to. I had to pretend they didn’t taste like ass. So, if we’re going by my list-“ He shoots you a grin that’s far too charming, for the promise behind it. “I get to eat something better, later. You wear what you know is gonna drive me crazy-“

“You put it out-“

“I get to choose how I get it off of you.” He smirks, voice getting firmer as it drops. “You bite me, I bite back. You want attention, I give it to you ‘till your needy pussy is soaking my damn face. You hit me with that spoon,” he leans down, eyes trapping yours, and your breath catches. “Well. You know what I like doin’ to you when you get bratty.”

You swallow, and realize you’re clinging to his bicep. “Dean…”

“Yeah, baby?” He raises his brows, and you take an uneven breath.

“Is there- Do you know-“

“Course I know. What’d you think I was thinking about, on the drive home?”

“Um...” You blink at him slowly. “Dinner?”

“Nah. Thinking about you.” He kisses your nose, almost mockingly sweet. “Always thinking about you, baby.”

“But…” You pause, and he just grins at you. He’s going to make you say it. “What you were thinking about… Is there- The thing?”

“Yeah. I got the thing.” He smirks. “You wanna hear it?”

You nod, and he opens his mouth, but you grab his arm.

“Later,” you whisper, as he gives you a surprised look. “In- Bed?”

He stares at you for a second, then grins. “You wanna do-“

“Yes. Yeah. I- Yes.” You let out an unsteady breath. “Please?”

Dean nods, kissing you softly. Slowly. You melt into him, and he stops cutting to reach up and cup your face.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.” He mutters against your lips. “I’ll put everyone down after dinner. You just go wait for me, take a bath or somethin’-“

“No bath.” You mumble. “Wearing the underwear.”

He groans, pressing his brow against yours. “Son of a bitch, now I gotta get through dinner with a semi- Shit-“

You trace your fingers over the bulge in his jeans, laughing softly. “That’s a little more than a semi, De.”

“I’m lyin’ to myself.” He grunts. “Makes it easier, long as you don’t keep- Fuck-“

He moans into your mouth, as you squeeze him. His hand flies to your hip to keep himself grounded, and you giggle again. 

“Not funny, sweetheart-“

“Very funny.” You rub him through his pants, squeezing where you know the base of his cock is once, then twice. He almost whines, and you kiss over the stubble on his cheek. “I love you.”

You let go of him, and he groans, dropping his face onto your shoulder.

“I’m not playing nice later, baby. You gotta know that.”

You smile, mostly to yourself. “Counting on it.”

Before he can say anything else, you kiss his hair and walk away. Mavis needs a diaper change. Charlie and Ella need to wash their hands, before dinner. 

It’s also just fun to watch Dean roll his shoulders, back muscles flexing under his flannel as he chops vegetables like he’s trying to physically fight off the boner you know is still in his pants. 

He gets it under control, by dinner. And how he’s acting perfectly normal. Like it’s just any other night. 

That’s more dangerous than the teasing. You might not be able to walk in the morning. 

The rest of the evening passes like a calm before the storm. The girls finish their dinner, and Mavis only throws some of her peas in Dean’s face as he tries to feed her. They have their cookies—they always get one, for eating whatever they’re served—and run off to play before bed. You manage to swerve around Dean, to put Mavis to bed yourself. He catches you as you walk out of the nursery with a stern expression, and you give him a nervous smile. 

He chuckles, grabbing the back of your head and tipping it forward so he can kiss your brow.

“You’re in a lotta trouble, sweetheart.” He mutters. “I was supposed to do that.”

“Oops.” You whisper, and you both know you don’t mean it. “I’m gonna go wash your shirt.”

He hums, and only squeezes your hip before letting you walk away. You take the shirt to the mudroom, and let him deal with winding Charlie and Ella down. By the time you have it hang drying over the large sink, you leave to find the living room clean and empty. 

You poke your head in the girls’ room, and find Dean reading to them. You’ve insisted he try reading higher level books—that’s the point of him reading with them—and he does, but he still does voices like it’s a baby book. 

Ella is already asleep. Charlie had wrapped herself in her shrimp blanket, and is stopping Dean every three words, to ask what that means. 

You slip inside silently, just to kiss them goodnight. 

Ella mumbles something incoherent, leaning further against Dean as her little eyes flutter. Charlie grabs your hand, and pulls you down to sit on her other side. 

“Mommy, listen to the story.”

Dean frowns. “Charlie, Mommy has to go to bed-“

“She’s been sleeping all day, Daddy.” Charlie rolls her eyes, and Dean can’t argue with that.

“One chapter.” You murmur, kissing her head. “Then I have to go brush my teeth, Char.”

“Okay.” She leans back against Dean’s arm, and he sighs. 

Goes back to reading, and you know he’s doing it faster than before. Charlie even tells him to slow down, which he does, with a dramatic sigh. You leave after the promised chapter, and Dean squeezes the back of your thigh before you walk away. You glare at him. He just grins, winks, and goes back to the book. 

You don’t like waiting for him. You never know what to do with yourself. The baby monitor is humming on Dean’s bedside table, and you lie awkwardly on the mattress. Wearing just the underwear. Covered in a thin blanket, because just being bare had felt strange and uncomfortable. You stare at the ceiling, still able to feel Dean’s hand on your thigh. Near your ass and panty line. And maybe, if you were alone, he would’ve pulled you into his lap before he walked away. Or just cup your pussy in the car while he drove, smirking as you ground onto his hand and pleaded with him to touch you more. 

Your fingers slip between your legs. You rub yourself over your panties, and sigh as you feel the slick already gathering. Your eyes flutter closed, and you try to just think about it. Dean’s thick fingers instead of your own, dragging up and down your pussy, teasing you as sweat begins to gather on your brow-

“Hell yeah.” Dean mutters, and your eyes shoot open, legs slamming around your hand. He’s standing near the door—locked safely behind him—and pulling off his flannel. Fumbling with his belt as his eyes rank your body, the evidence of what the sight is doing to him hard between his legs. 

“I- I didn’t hear you come in-“

“I can sneak.” He grunts, palming himself as his jeans fall to the ground. “Legs open.”

You swallow, slowly dragging your thighs apart. Revealing your barely clothed, dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. 

Dean groans, jerking himself off through the fabric of his boxers. “Is she wet for me, baby?”

“Yeah.” You whisper. “So fucking wet, it’s- God-“

Your hand presses down, as he pulls his shirt over his head. He’s a little softer, with age and a slower life. He’s still the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“There you go,” Dean walks slowly towards the bed, grabbing your ankle as he sits on the mattress. “Touch yourself for me, princess, touch that pretty pussy-“

You moan, your fingers starting to rub back up and down. Dean groans, crawling between your legs and pushing your thighs further open. He just watches you for a moment, drinking in how you play with yourself. He’s so hard you’re worried he’s going to rip his briefs. 

“De- Dean-“ You nudge your knee against his hip. “Off-“

“Right- Shit-“ He scrambles, ripping off his underwear. His cock bounces against his abdomen, as he settles back down. His hand rests on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. His body between your legs won’t let them close, even if you try. 

And you know what this is. It’s all you get. 

That, and his low, deep voice. Rough with hunger, and wrecked with desire. You could find his voice in a crowd of a million people. Listen to it for the rest of your life. 

Cum just from hearing it, if he uses it right. 

And fuck, he knows how to use it right. And he knows what it does to you. 

The most dangerous combination in the world.

“Don’t stop touchin’ yourself.” He grunts, his free hand slowly stroking himself as he holds your gaze. “Less you don’t wanna cum.” He smirks. “You wanna cum, sweet girl?”

You moan, and nod frantically. Dean chuckles. 

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. Ready?”

You start to rub yourself faster, pressing the lacy fabric further into your pussy for a little friction. “God, yes, go-“

“Patience, baby.” He mutters, rubbing your hip as he speaks. “I got a lot I’d wanna do to you, y’know. Shame there’s never been enough time in the night for it. If I could, I’d keep you in bed for the whole year, just looking pretty in my sheets and getting stuffed full of my cock.”

You moan, pressing your finger into your pussy through the cloth. Dean laughs. 

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know you got that fantasy.” He leans down, breath ghosting over your ear. “I’d let you have it, if I didn’t like you bossing me around so much. Wouldn’t know what to do with myself, if I didn’t have you there. Shame.” He clicks his tongue. “But I still got things for tonight. Fuck yourself on your fingers, baby.”

You obey, stuffing another finger into your dripping cunt and rolling your hip to try and meet your thrusts. Dean chuckles, kissing the side of your head. 

“Good girl. You look so fuckin’ hot, baby, you got no idea.” He moans openly into your ear, and you shiver. “I think I’ll start by stuffing up your pretty mouth with my cock. Fucking it until you’re drooling all over me, choking on it but still begging for more. It’s never enough for my dirty princess, is it. No, you want to be on your knees and crying so pretty for me.” He kisses just under your ear, sending a shiver through your whole body. 

“Oh- Oh my god-“ You mutter, shoving the underwear aside to move your fingers faster. “Dean-“

“I know.” He coos, kissing your temple. “And I’d cum down your throat, baby, I know how much you love to swallow what I give you. Then I’d start sucking on those perfect tits, while I touched your wet little pussy.”

Your mouth falls open, your free hand finding your clit. Rubbing it frantically, eyes fluttering at you stare at Dean above you. He just grins, voice dropping somehow deeper.

“Would only take me one hand to make you cum,” he hums, glancing down to where you’re humping your fingers like an animal. “Fingers in you, thumb rubbing- Lot faster than that-“ He chuckles, and you whine. “I’d keep you on edge, dripping down my wrist until you’re begging for it. And I’ll need that free hand, keep you still. I know how you get-“

You almost throw your hips off the bed, trying to chase release, and Dean laughs. 

“Yeah, that.” He kisses your cheek, and you turn your face to try and capture his lips in a kiss. 

He rises up too fast, and you whine. “Dean-“

“I told you to be patient.” He pinches your hip, and you fall back into the pillows with a whimper. “I haven’t even told you how I’d make you cum on my hand, then keep you down so I could taste you. Let you rub yourself all over my face, tongue fuck you till I can’t breathe- Son of a bitch, baby, I get fuckin’ drunk on your pussy, just thinkin’ about the sounds you make when I got my face between those legs, got you cumming in my damn mouth- Shit-“

He’s working himself up. You can hear his cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. The tip keeps bumping near your thigh, even as he holds his hips over your body. 

“Dean- Dean-“ You reach up to cup his face, and he groans, leaning into the touch. “Don’t stop talking, please-“

“I know, just- Fuck-“ He presses his cheek against yours, and your hand flies back to your clit. “I’d be ready to go, baby girl. Once you drench my fuckin’ face, I’d be so hard it hurt, would feel like I’m ‘bout to lose it if I don’t- Shit- Get back inside of you-“

He’s rutting into his hand. Your hand is moving so fast it’s about to cramp, and you’re close, so close- 

“Could fuck you in my lap.” Dean grunts, words clipped and harsh. “Let you ride me, feel you squeezin’, watch your tits bounce- Fuck-“ He moans. “Get you under me like this, watch you get wrecked on my cock or- Flip you over and fuck you from behind, spank your tight ass until you feel me for a week, make you hold it until I cum inside of you and- Shit- Hold you on my fucking cock, look at how fucking wrecked you are trying to hold it-“

“Dean- Please-“

“Yeah, just like that.” He slams his lips over yours, and you moan into his mouth. The kiss is short and harsh, but it’s enough to make your body writhe with pleasure and need. 

“More-“ You whimper into his mouth. “De, I- I’m so close-“

“I know you are, baby, I fuckin’ know-“ He groans. “Think about how I’d hold you down ‘till you’re crying for me, ’till you’re wrecked, then I’d fuck my cum back into you and tell you to cum- Cum for me baby, fuckin’ cum-“

Your mouth falls open to scream, and Dean drags you up into a kiss to muffle the sound. You shake, your fingers managing not to falter as overwhelming pleasure sweeps through you. Dean pumps his load over your hand and pussy, sending tiny shocks of heat through your body. 

“There you go.” He mutters as you float back down, running his fingers between your pussy lips. 

You shiver. “Dean- Sensitive-“

He hums, shooting you a wink. “Just how I like it.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he catches it between his teeth. Kisses you sloppy and slow, humming into your mouth before pinching your clit. You squeak, and he laughs. 

“Get some rest, baby.” He kisses your cheek. “I’ll clean up, keep an ear out-“

“Wait-“ You grab him, before he can push off your body. “Don’t let me sleep in tomorrow, we can’t do this three nights in a row-“

“Yeah, we can.”

“Dean-“

“I talked the talk, sweetheart.” He shrugs, kissing your knuckles. “Gotta walk the walk.”

He sets your hand down, and walks into the bathroom. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling. Your eyes are starting to feel heavy. If you go down first, Dean sets the alarms. Get to pull you under him, so he can keep you in bed in the morning again.

But he did make some promises. 

And you’d very much like to see him fulfill those promises. 

There are worse lives to have than being pampered by your husband, watching him care for your children, and then being fucked until you can’t walk. So you don’t fight it. 

With Dean, you rarely really do.