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Families bicker, that fact is clear; however, you are certain your family can win the award for most fractured family. In order to keep your sanity, you decided to take a break from them, and opted to move in with your friends in what can only be described as a mansion.

A few weeks after you moved in, you noticed Dean spending more time around you, even going so far as to subtly flirt with you. One day, he cornered you in the hallway and kissed you hard enough to take your breath away, before he disappeared once again, leaving you pressed against the wall in shock. After that, you began dropping hints that you were just as interested as he was, with the hopes to take it to the next level.

Tonight, the boys have decided to throw an impromptu party. They have spent most of the night drinking, but you notice that Dean is partaking significantly less than the others, mainly sticking to club soda. You have caught his gaze on you several times throughout the night, though you only realize this because you cannot take your eyes off of him.

You take a seat on one of the bar stools, sipping on your mixed drink as you thought about what you should do about Dean. Before you can begin to formulate a plan, you spy the man himself making his way towards you, smiling slyly.

“Hey, beautiful,” he grins, taking a sip of his drink as he reaches you. He stops beside you, placing his cup on the bar beside you as he stares into your eyes – in his proximity, you can see the way his eyes are not as glazed as you have seen them.

“Hey,” you reply.

“Are you drunk?” Dean asks, gesturing to your drink.

“Nope,” you say, shaking your head. “Been taking it slow tonight…just in case.” Dean throws a quick glance over his shoulder to check that no one is around.

“Just in case of what?” Dean asks, looking back to you. He stares at you for a moment, leaning his arm on the table next to you so he can lean closer towards you. “Hmm?” Dean hums, eyes dragging over your chest visible beneath your low cut shirt.

“You’re staring.”

“You’re right,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck as he looks back into your eyes. “I would say that I’m sorry…but, honestly, I’m not.” Studying his face, you note the small touch of pink in his cheeks, which you attribute to the warmth in the house and the alcohol in his system. “What is it?” he mutters, licking his lips as a very faint smirk appears across them.

“What do you think?” you reply, placing your hands on his sides, your fingers twisting at his shirt as you pull him to stand between your legs. He bites his bottom lip, peering down between your bodies to watch the way you press yourself against him. When he looks back into your eyes, you notice how they have clouded over just as he jerks his head in the direction of his room; getting his hint, you nod your head, gently shoving him away from you.

You both make your way towards Dean’s room, but as soon as you reach the door, he grabs you, shoving you hard against the wall. With a cheeky grin, he leans in towards you, giving you a passionate kiss, fingers gently wrapping around your throat. A whimper escapes your lips, getting caught up in the kiss, and you fist the sides of his shirt, pulling his body flush against yours.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he mutters, mouth moving to your jaw. “Finally have the chance to get you alone…touch you like I’ve always wanted.” You hum in response, feeling his hands slipping up the sides of your shirt.

“Dean,” you gasp, when his fingers reach your breasts. “In the room.” He chuckles, breaking away from you long enough to open the door of the room and playfully shoves you inside. He watches from the doorway as you climb onto his bed, tossing your shoes to the floor. “Fuck, you look so goddamn good in that polo,” you breathe, taking in the blue shirt he wears. With a smirk, he enters the room, closing the door behind him and crossing towards the bed.

“Want me to keep it on?” he asks, toeing off his shoes as he kneels on the bed. He grabs your legs, yanking them apart so he can kneel between them, but as soon as you lean up to kiss him, he pauses. “Fuck, I don’t think I have a condom,” he says. “I mean…I know I don’t have one. Syd went nuts and threw out all of the condoms because she’s allergic to latex.”

“Oh,” you say.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe this,” he mumbles, sitting back onto his haunches. “I finally have you where I want you, I’m unbelievably hard, and I don’t have a fuckin’ condom.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t have other fun,” you reply, quickly. Dean perks up noticing the suggestive look on your face, smirking evilly as he leans back towards you.

“What do you have in mind?” he asks, attempting to shove you onto your back. Immediately, you push him off of you, instead shoving him onto his back and straddling his hips. “What do you wanna do, baby girl?” he rasps, hands setting on your thighs.

“Maybe we can try something a little different,” you whisper, pressing your hands to his chest. You make certain that Dean is completely focused on your face before you carefully grind yourself down against his crotch. Dean pulls in a sharp breath, shifting beneath you as his grip tightens on your thighs.

“Mmm, baby girl…” he trails off, licking his lips. “Are you trying to hump me?” A chuckle falls from his lips as soon as he asks his question, but you quickly repeat your previous action, with slightly more pressure. “Fuck, I haven’t done this since high school,” he breathes, now taking hold of your hips.

You hum quietly, pressing yourself down harder; Dean helps you begin to roll your hips so you can get more friction. Your hands fist the blue polo shirt, pressing your hands down against his chest to keep your pace. With a soft moan, Dean’s fingers press so hard against your hips that he leaves bruises on your skin – his desperation only fuels you on.

“That feels good,” he mutters. His voice is soft, raspy, dripping with need already and you can only grind harder against him, needing more friction between your bodies. Dean groans, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you down on top of him.

Even through your clothes you can feel Dean’s erection, painfully hard and straining the fabric of his jeans as it presses against you. You mentally curse yourself for not wearing a skirt that night, wishing you could feel him even closer, but Dean pulls you from your thoughts as both of his hands grasp your backside, urging you faster and harder. You cannot help the whimper of his name that falls from your lips as you press your face against his neck.

“Listen to you,” Dean mumbles, nudging your head with his. Lifting your head, you immediately kiss him, sloppy and passionate, unable to stop the moan that echoes in his mouth. “I’ve never thought you would sound like this before,” he rasps, kissing your cheek. “Like a fuckin’ whore.”

Your stomach twists at his comment, never having been spoken to in such a manner to you before – judging from the jolt in your body, you are sure that you were very fond of it. You start moving faster, desperately trying to get yourself off from the friction between your bodies. Dean’s arms wrap tighter around your waist, making sure there was no space between your bodies as he works his own hips against your movements.

“I never thought it could feel this fuckin’ good,” he whispers, sounding as though he is on the verge of losing himself. “You look so sexy, like you’re dying for me to get you off.”

“Oh, Dean,” you moan.

“That’s it,” he responds, slapping you hard on the backside. “Say my fuckin’ name, you little slut, I know you love it. You feel that…how big my dick is…bet you’re aching to have it inside of you, huh? Can’t wait to feel it in this tight little pussy.”

“Mmhmm,” you groan, biting Dean’s shoulder through his shirt. “Fuck.”

“I can’t take this anymore,” he pants.

Quickly, Dean shoves you from him, maneuvering so he is propped slightly against his pillow before he grabs for you again. As you prepare to straddle him, he stops you, urging you to sit between his legs with your back against his chest, and your backside pressed to his crotch. He reaches his hand up to cover your mouth, while his other hand snakes between your thighs to unbutton your jeans. “Gotta keep you quiet,” he whispers in your ear. “You seem like a screamer.”

“Mmmm,” you hum against his hand, preparing for what he is about to do.

Dean’s hand pushes past the waistband of your panties, fingers probing between your folds to find the wetness that he had pulled from you. With a moan stifled against his hand, you spread your thighs to give him more access, and as soon as the pads of his fingers ghost over your clit, your back arches. He begins rubbing quick, tight circles on your clit, causing you to grind your backside against him; the whines that flow from his mouth to your ear only increase your pleasure to a point you cannot believe.

“So wet,” he mutters, voice cracking. “All of this for me? Slick and fucking ready. Fuck, I wish I had a goddamn condom.” You start to writhe between his legs, your thighs squeezing together instinctively but you hear Dean chuckle behind you. “No, no, no,” he breathes, hooking his legs over yours and prying them apart, pinning them down to the sheets so he could continue his task. “Feels too good, huh?”

“Dean.” Your pleading tone is muffled by his hand, but you drop your head against his shoulder to look up at him with watery eyes.

“What is it, baby girl?” He moves his hand from your mouth to gently grasp your throat, only applying enough pressure to heighten your pleasure. You whimper, nuzzling your head against his as you strain to grind yourself back against him. “Huh?” he asks. “This what you’ve been wanting? My little slut, you’ve been aching for me to get you off.”

“Dean, I’m so close,” you gasp. “Don’t stop.” Dean moves his fingers faster, still whispering in your ear about how sexy you are, and encouraging you to come for him. You reach back, grabbing onto his short locks and moving your body against his motions; your orgasm is on the verge of tearing through you, so you let loose in Dean’s grasp.

“Oh, fuck yeah, baby girl,” Dean moans, trying to keep his voice down to not alert anyone nearby. “There’s my good girl, just like that.” You keep grinding until your orgasm makes your body lurch, so you push his hands off of you, moving to your knees to catch your “Where do you think you’re goin’, huh?” Dean whispers, sitting up quickly.

“Dean!” you squeal, scrambling from the bed.

“No, no,” he hurries, following quickly after you and catching you around your waist. “Not done with you yet.” You still try to escape his grasp to test out his strength, but he quickly yanks you flush against him. “Trying to run away from me?” he chuckles, slipping his hand back into your panties.

“Fuck, Dean,” you gasp, when he resumes work on your clit. You both know you will not last long before you reach your second climax and you feel his erection pressed to your backside. With a cry of pleasure, you force yourself against him harder, gyrating your hips to get him to his own orgasm.

“Jesus,” he mutters, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “I’m gonna fucking come.” This is a side of Dean you did not expect: whiny and needy. On the verge of his own climax, Dean loses focus on you for a moment, only working himself against your backside for his own pleasure. “C'mere,” he whispers, turning your head to his and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

You feel your legs trembling beneath you, and Dean senses your vulnerability, lowering both of you down to your knees on the floor. Once you are on all fours, Dean bends over you, hooking one arm around your body beneath your breasts while his other fingers you faster. He grinds himself against you in time with his hand, his motions breaking from their rhythm as he approaches his orgasm.

When he finally climaxes, he is breathless, trying to pull in air but only moans instead, biting onto your shoulder. He does not stop rubbing you as he rests his head against your neck, finally bringing you to your second climax of the night. As you both come down from your highs, you do not bother moving, limbs far too stiff and breath coming in hard pants. After a few moments, Dean lets out a slow breath, shuddering into a chuckle.

“I’ve never gotten off from humping before,” he whispers, kissing your neck. “How the fuck did you do that?”

“You think that was good, wait until tomorrow when we buy some condoms.”