#DEAN WOULD FUCKING GUARD HIM LIKE A PITBULL

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

okay so i’ve been going crazy these past few days. all about cockles/jensmish and obsessively watching their panels or reading the transcripts BECAUSE. THEY ARE LOUD. LIKE. i saw some fancams on twt and i thought people were just exaggerating but noooooooooo!!!???? so, getting to the point. you said that how do we know that jensen is performing masculinity? because jared isn’t and THAT IS A BIG BRAIN MOMENT. ON POINT. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. a particular moment from gag reel that jumps out (which you’ve talked about) when jensen goes ‘cas, you are my baby daddy’ and misha goes, ‘i know i love you too’ and jensen goes, ‘i didn’t say i love you’ and misha goes, ‘i know you wanted to’ and jensen says, ‘i love you’ WHAT THE FUCK! that was NOT a joke. yes, people took it as a joke and had a good laugh BUT I HAVE WATCHED IT TOO MANY TIMES AND IT LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE BECAUSE IT WAS NOT A PERFORMANCE. THAT WAS JENSEN. THAT WAS MISHA. jensen has a had trouble with the pda and being all touch feely (the breakup theory) and he gradually grew into it, accepted it and misha was right there all along, never pushed it. it was like a deancas au but tbh, 99% of destiel is because of cockles and we all know it. i just. jensen has latched onto dean as an emotional support because he tunes with it. understands it. projects on to it. yeah, i just had to say it and get it off my chest. (and what about those poetry pages on instagram? alma? what is your opinion?) btw, you have a lovely blog and your analysis are right on target.

so there is a LOT i’m going to address here(how dare you bring up [gunshot] i HAVE to talk about it now) so again!!!! under a cut it goes but i hope you appreciate my rambles anon it seems like you do :,)

1. jared vs. jensen and performing masculinity. hell yeah man. jared and jensen are both just ‘guys from texas’ but they are still so vastly different. today i actually had a revelation that i’m pretty sure has to do with me being bi. and it’s that i have a group of straight friends(that i love dearly but they care too much about hockey and pitbull imo could not be me) and i have a group of queer friends(who are also batshit[affectionate]). and it’s like whichever group i hang out with a different side of me emerges? they’re both me, it’s just that certain aspects of who i am as a person only surface depending on who i am around. however, i will say i feel like i watch what i say around my straight friends more. i see that very clearly in jensen as well. around jared during panels and on set, he’s definitely putting on an air of machismo and engages in typical guy talk. i do think an element of it is performative, because he wants validation from jared that they’re still just two dudes from texas taking on the world together despite his sexual identity. does that make any sense??? i hope so. but when he’s with misha he is an entirely different person and his sense of humour becomes wildly different. the machismo fades away, he’s way less caught up in what people think about him, lets his guard down, etc. to go back to my original point which is how j2 are different in that regard....jared does not do this. he is a constant. he does not flip a switch between ‘performing masculinity’ and ‘not’ because he isn’t performing any part of who he is. he just IS. so yeah these two are similar in many regards but there’s somewhat of a dissonance between them when it comes to how they perform masculinity because one of them is putting on a show and the other is merely being.

2. that crypt scene blooper(here just in case you need to see it again. do it. as a treat.) when i tell you i have easily seen this over thirty times??? since it first came out??? i mean it. it is such an overlooked(r*mantic) moment and it means so much more than people think it does. i’ve talked about the context behind it, and i think that’s why this blooper was so meaningful, so i’ll mention it again. jensen and misha had a LOT of trouble with this scene. the reason is that jensen couldn’t wrap his head around why dean would be saying these things, if i remember correctly, and both of them sat down and scoured over how they should play it for a while before filming(teamwork ;) teammates *ahem*). [to be honest we all know why jensen had a hard time with that scene and it is because it is blatantly romantic. rip to him but i would simply give in to it at that point but oh well] so anyway, their heads were scattered going into shooting, which is NEVER a good headspace to be in for a scene, ESPECIALLY not a pivotal one. but they had each other to help them through said weird energy on set that couldn’t possibly have invoked the best feelings, especially considering jensen STILL doesn’t think he played that correctly(but he praised misha on his performance :,) ). and with that context every single part of that video hits haRD 

-’stop pulling my face towards your crotch’ i think this is objectively hilarious because it really really looks like jensen is pulling HIMSELF towards misha’s crotch. again, you’re fooling no one, jensen. misha’s wheezing laugh and the way he wraps himself around jensen is also,,,sweet??? like i don’t know how else to describe how i see it but this moment really reads as jensen, in his weird ‘constructing elaborate rituals’ way is asking for security through a physical touch from misha and he happily obliges and gives jensen what he needs. because i mean...watch it again. jensen ‘fights back’, but not really at all, actually. pretty wimpy counterattack. he literally lets himself be smothered by misha, and i would literally describe what they end up doing as cuddling. 

-’i need you, cas. you’re my baby daddy’ i love having an actor’s perspective on things bc i think i can explain what’s going on here. jensen just delivered what was(in his own mind) a rotten take of the lines he’s most scared of delivering. so the scene was already messed up. therefore; ensuing fuckery is warranted to help him feel better. but there’s also for sure more than meets the eye for what he says here because of misha’s reaction after??? like he seemed genuinely touched. first of all, he’s saying ‘you’re my baby daddy’ as half-jensen, but not necessarily dean either(because he didn’t say the previous lines as true to his character...you get it), to misha, not cas. i think i’ve made this point before, but every single innuendo in the gag reels is to misha specifically, never once cas. therefore; logical conclusion: ‘you’re my baby daddy’ was for misha and it meant something deeper than we think because of what follows it

-this part. jensen’s giddy ass smile after he sees misha crack and then misha says ‘yeah, i know’ (can i just say his voice when he says this is so intimate???? like am i intruding guys??? sorry i’ll let myself out) also he is smiling SO BIG

- ‘i know’ ‘why are you laughing?’ ‘no i know i love you too’ this analysis is already so long but i still want to get into what THAT whole exchange means. ‘why are you laughing?’ to me sounds like jensen’s pretending to be affronted by misha laughing at something that is serious. and it’s serious because he quite literally meant ‘i love you’. he did. misha knows it. misha’s really REALLY good at cutting the bs and just getting to what people are actually trying to say. he has an innate sharpness to his sense of humour. so yes, misha is being 100% accurate when he says ‘i know, but you wanted to say it.’ misha isn’t lying here. jensen did want and mean to say ‘i love you’. and then he actually does say it(in a jokey way but not really). 

- so yeah. it is actually so romantic??? like in a weird way jensen was professing his love for misha here?????? and that’s why this clip will NEVER. ever. get old. 

3. jensen having trouble with pda and projecting onto dean: we can all call ourselves dean coded cas girls but NO one deserves that title more than jensen ackles himself. he is dean winchester but marginally less repressed because he actually did admit he was in love with his best friend and let himself be happy, and pretty early on too. one year and two months as opposed to twelve years. so. happy deancas au is correct. and yes about the pda thing: one day i want to write my own post about both of their body language when it comes to each other, but all i can tell is jensen, even in the early days, couldn’t help himself from flirting with misha, but if misha ever crossed a line, jensen would not be happy. clearly he’s come around, however. what i find sweet is that misha always follows jensen’s lead when it comes to how much affection they’re allowed to show each other onstage. it touches my soul

4. destiel is cockles fault. yeah. and the thing is everyone knows it, too. even non-cockles shippers will explain early destiel as entirely dependant on jensen and misha’s wild chemistry. and that chemistry is easily explained by the fact that misha and jensen are literally just wildly horny bisexuals who were crazily attracted to one another and were falling in love on screen before our very eyes. and when you have THAT insider info(which sounds cray doesn’t it!!!! the destiel actors are in love irl??? huh???) everything really does click into place. why destiel got SO popular when the show and actors never ever intended for it to happen.(i know some people think misha was playing cas as gay the whole time for shits and giggles, and i won’t deny that[especially considering he found out early on that destiel was why he was staying on the show], but i don’t think he really wanted it to amount to anything, nor did he care??? i mean he has the real thing with jensen, for one, so their characters aren’t really as important. for two, he loves joking about destiel because it’s a cultural phenomenon and it’s fascinating, and i’m sure he did ship it because he’s unhinged, but i don’t think it was vastly important to him either way.) destiel got popular because everyone was and is unintentionally reading into the real deal. i could pull up countless gifs that people have used as destiel proof that is actually just jensen and misha being messy. mainly jensen. if i’m being honest.  the symbiotic relationship between destiel and cockles is why i’ve stayed onboard the destielcule and shellerscape for three solid months now; because it is utterly fascinating to witness and kind of super beautiful, too. 

5. alma(and others). so. i do NOT want to really REALLY get into this in its entirety here and now so i will just give you my opinion on if i think alma is misha or not. also; i don’t want to mention the other poetry accounts here bc i feel like that’s a bigger breach in privacy, but a lot of people do know about alma now. way too many, actually. this is why we can’t have nice things. anyway-to answer your question-there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that yes, misha is running that alma poetry account. i am 100% certain. some people think it’s actually three people and they’re all connected to misha in some way but that is so needlessly complicated. as it goes in psychology; the easiest explanation is probably the right one. it’s just one person running that account, and it is misha collins. i don’t know why it’s so hard to believe KNOWN POET misha collins(who is known to spend most of his free time writing poetry anyway) would have created a secret poetry account to write about his intense secret relationship under an alias and also get legitimate feedback since no one used to know it was him. oh and the handwriting is identical??? you are blind if you do not see that i am sorry. and a million other things prove it’s misha too but yeah all you need to know is yes. it’s him. it would take a literal livestream from a random woman on that account to convince me otherwise. and honestly not even that because a random woman could technically still log in if misha asked her too. so. it would take a hell of a lot to convince me otherwise, clearly. that said DO NOTTTTTTTTTTTT GO ONTO THAT ACCOUNT WITH A SUPERNATURAL RELATED USERNAME AND COMMENT THINGS THAT ARE COCKLES RELATED. ARE YOU BRAIN DEAD WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT’S OKAY. sorry i got heated but god please just don’t be dumb so many people have already gone way too far 

6. thank you for your lovely compliment on my analyses!!! i love doing them but i don’t know if people actually like reading them so i really appreciate it

[glowrioustrash]

Breaking The Law

Summary: Parole Office Kat Williams had seen Dean Ambrose’s mugshot from his file. She was expecting the scrappy, shaggy kid in the photo, not the man who walked into her office.

Pairing: Dean Ambrose x OC

Word Count: 3000+

Warnings: RATED M FOR AVERT YOUR EYES CHILDREN THIS AIN’T NOTHIN BUT SMUT

Author’s Note: This is a piece of what was originally a bigger fic - a very dark fic tbh - but I’ve been struggling with it since Dean’s return. I decided I could cut this out, post it as a PWP for everyone’s enjoyment, and if I ever get around to writing more, just posting it as a second part. (Tag list is back down to like no one, because once again I wasted so much fucking time between posting shit that most of y’all were either lost in the purge or changed your names. Sorry.)

Tagging: @softarthurmorgan / @kakakatey / @thirstiswet / @calwitch / @dirrrtydeeds

Kat grabbed the file for her next appointment, a new parolee she was being assigned. The folder was fairly thin, which typically meant an easy job… or a first time offender at the beginning of a long path through the system. She read the name on the tab, “Ambrose, Dean,” and opened the folder.

The man’s mugshot was paperclipped to the first page, his piercing blue eyes striking her immediately, even in the washed out, overexposed photo. The glare on his features was not uncommon in the many mugshots she’d seen, but he made it look more like a brood. It made her think of classic movie stars when they’d hit that pout that made the women swoon. His shaggy hair, she couldn’t tell if it was brown or blonde from the photo alone, was matted to his forehead. He looked mostly clean shaven, although with the poor quality of the photo she couldn’t tell if he had a bit of stubble or if it was just an odd shadow or printing mistake.

She moved the photo out of the way, quickly reading through his file. Ambrose was 32 years old, only a few years older than herself. He was charged with stealing a firearm and had pled guilty, earning a 5 year sentence but was being released early. Reading through the file, Ambrose had kept to himself in prison and stayed out of trouble. There were only a handful of reported incidents from his time in jail, all of which had guards vouching that he acted defensively.

It seemed promising, really.

Dean had served his time in Ohio but had applied to serve parole in Iowa. The paperwork showed he had someone to live with and a job lined up. The planning, paired with his good behaviour, led to an easy approval. This also meant that she hadn’t met him prior to his release as she had most of her parolees.

He had been pleasant enough on the phone when he made his appointment, his voice gruff and his answers monosyllabic when possible. He called within the 24 hours necessary of arriving, ready with his file number. Overall, her impression so far was that he was a nice man who got caught up in something bad.

Her phone chirped at her from the corner of her desk, the familiar tone signalling an interoffice paging.

“Williams.” She answered.

“Your 2:30 is here. Mr. Ambrose.” Nicole, the receptionist, responded.

“Great, send him in.” Kat told her. She heard the click on the other end and hung up her phone. Seconds later, a steady, strong knock sounded from her door.

“Come in.” She called, standing in anticipation of meeting her new parolee. She straightened her blouse as the door opened.

The man who entered was nearly unrecognizable from the mugshot if not for those amazing blue eyes. If the young man in the mugshot could be compared to a scruffy but lovable mutt, the man currently standing in her office was a prize pitbull. He’d clearly spent his free time while locked up in the gym. His neck alone had nearly doubled in size and the crisp t-shirt he was wearing looked ready to pull apart at the seams. She found herself wondering what the rest of him looked like before he went in, only having the lone mugshot showing him from the shoulders up. His hair was shorn and his beard was grown in, but groomed.

“Officer Williams?” He asked, standing in the doorway.

“Yes. Come in, Mr. Ambrose.” She instructed. Dean crossed the small office quickly, only taking a few steps with his long legs. His file had listed him as 6’4, but his mass made it seem much more intimidating.

She gulped subtly as she offered her hand to shake. Dean adjusted the papers he was holding into his opposite arm before taking her hand in his own. His hand was warm and his grip was firm.

“Please, call me Dean.” He told her as he released her hand.

“Alright Dean.” She nodded, sitting down. “Why don’t you have a seat and we can get started.”

Dean sat, setting the papers on her desk. “So, your file was transferred to me from Ohio where you served your time, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He confirmed.

“And what brought you to Iowa?” She asked, watching him closely for any signs he might be lying.

“Good friend of mine offered me a place to live and helped me set up a job.” He explained, turning to the papers he’d brought in, leafing through. “He filled out the required paperwork here.”

Kat took the papers he offered, looking through them. The forms were typical, that Mr. Rollins understood that he was living with a Parolee, that he understood the rules that were expected of the parolee’s living situation, and that even if Mr. Rollins brought the prohibited items into the home, Dean would suffer the consequences.

“Great, these all look in order.” Kat nodded. “You say he set you up with your job as well?”

“Yes. He owns a gym and he’s hired me as a trainer.” He explained, handing over the proof of employment.

“You’re very prepared, Dean. I appreciate that.” Kat muttered as she scanned the documents.

“I’m just lookin’ for this to be as smooth as possible.” He told her.

She stapled the papers together, tucking them into Dean’s file.

“Now it says here your prior officer in Ohio, uh…” She paused as she looked for the officer’s name.

“Officer Regal.” He supplied.

“Ah yes, here we are. Officer Regal. It says he went through the expectations, but just to make sure nothing slipped through the cracks, I’m going to go over it again. Eases my mind.” She explained with a smile.

“Of course.” He nodded.

Kat went over the conditions of Dean’s parole, which were fairly typical. Curfew, travel restrictions, things Dean was prohibited to do or own. She went over how to report change in address or job. It was the same spiel she’d given her whole career, with only a few variations from crime to crime.

“Any questions?” She concluded.

“No, ma’am.” He shook his head.

She slid a copy of her business card across her desk towards him. “There’s how to get a hold of me if you need anything or have a question. If you get into any legal trouble I will find out, but both of our lives will be easier if you call me first.”

“Understood, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Well, I hope not. Even still, I tell that to everyone.” She told him with a polite smile.

Kat woke up with a soft groan at being pulled out of a peaceful slumber. The two arms wrapped around her, one below and one over her waist, both tightened, pulling her backwards into the strong chest. She smiled at the motion but didn’t open her eyes yet. She loved waking up in his arms. She never felt more safe than when she was wrapped up in Dean.

“G’mornin’.” He grumbled into her ear, nuzzling her neck. Her smile widened as she squirmed against him, his beard tickling her.

“Morning.” She mumbled back. “I was dreaming ‘bout you.”

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest. “What about?” He asked suggestively as he ran his hand down her torso until he reached the sliver of skin between her sleep shirt and panties, stroking the bare skin.

“Day we met.” She answered, ignoring his implication.

“Real version or,” Dean pressed his hips against her, fingers dancing along the waistband of the panties she wore. “Our version?”

She scoffed and batted at his hand. “Real version.” Even though she was playing hard to get - as if he didn’t already have her - she couldn’t deny the heat that grew in her belly at Dean’s question. The two had role-played their own version of that first meeting many times, sometimes with Kat as the hard ass, domineering parole officer who threatened to write him up unless he did exactly as she said and sometimes with Dean as the asshole, “won’t take no for an answer” criminal, but all with the same satisfying outcome for both.

“Bummer.” Dean hummed against her skin, making her giggle. “I like ours better.”

“What time is it?” She asked, still not wanting to open her eyes.

“Who cares?” Dean whispered, his breath tickling her ear as he pushed his luck a bit more, slipping his fingers into her waistband.

“Dean,” she whined, wiggling in a lame attempt to escape him. The low growl from Dean let her know the wiggle did nothing but spur him on. “I’ve got appointments this morning.”

“Fuck ‘em.” He hissed, fingers slipping lower. “We got ‘til the alarm.”

“Dean.” She whined again, this time a begging, keening whine as she rolled her hips back into his growing erection. She knew he was right, they had time.

“That’s more like it, doll.” She could hear the smug grin in his voice, let alone feel it against her skin. He kissed her neck and shoulder as he slipped his fingers between her lips, easily finding her clit.

She gasped, gripping his forearm as he rubbed lazy circles on her bundle of nerves. “You’re such a stereotype.” She scolded him, her voice no longer rough with sleep but breathy with arousal.

“Hmm? What stereotype is that?” He hummed, keeping his leisurely pace as she rolled her hips against his hand. Their closeness meant that she was also grinding against his cock as she searched for more pressure.

“Horny convict.” She muttered with a grin.

“I could stop.” He sang, his tone warning.

“Don’t stop.” She urged, gripping his arm tighter.

Dean laughed, satisfied that he already had her so desperate. “Such a spoiled princess. Eyes aren’t even open yet and you’re making demands.”

Kat looked over her shoulder, turning her head towards him and slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the early morning light spilling through the curtains. Dean looked down at her, her eyelids heavy with sleep, pupils blown with desire, lips parted as she panted for breath. He could hardly believe how lucky he was to wake up next to a masterpiece like her.

“There she is.” He praised, leaning down to kiss her. The kiss was as lazy as his fingers, tongue probing into her mouth slowly. She curled her tongue against his, whimpering into his mouth.

Dean’s fingers roamed lower prompting Kat to lift her leg, bending it at the knee to give him better access. Dean moaned appreciatively, unsurprised to find she was already wet and ready for him to easily slip his middle finger nice and deep into her.

She whined at the intrusion, her hips stilling as she squeezed his arm. She kissed him with more urgency as he moved his finger in and out, feeling her walls flutter around him. A few pumps and he added a second finger.

“God, Dean.” She whimpered, pulling away from his lips to catch her breath.

“One of us is here, I don’t know about the other guy.” He teased as he curled his fingers inside her, searching for the spot that would drive her crazy. He knew he’d found it as her breath hitched, hips bucking.

“That’s it, kitten.” He purred, unable to resist the urge to grind against her. “You like that?”

“Uh-huh.” She breathed shakily, nodding. She released his arm, moving to grip his hip instead. He could feel her nails digging into his skin even through his boxers, making him growl.

His thumb found her clit again, rubbing back and forth over the nub until she was reduced to a shaking mess of whimpers and stuttered breaths in his arms.

Her shaking hand reached between them, gripping his hard cock. She tried to stroke him, the angle working against her as she tried to twist her arm to the right angle to touch him.

“Is that what you want?” He asked, nipping her ear. “You want me to bury my hard cock deep inside you?”

“Yessss-” She hissed, nodding emphatically. She gave up trying to stroke him, clawing instead at his boxers. She managed to barely slide them down his hips even as he lifted himself off the bed. She huffed in frustration as they caught on his erection.

“My fingers aren’t enough? Need my thick cock instead?” He continued teasing.

“Pl-ease.” She moaned, breath hitching.

Dean chuckled, reluctantly pulling his hand away from her heat to help pull his boxers down to his thighs. Kat whined at the loss but took the opportunity to shimmy her panties off. She started to turn towards him but Dean stilled her with a strong hand on her hip.

“No, just like this.” He murmured, pressing up against her back again. The arm below her held her tight to his chest as he lifted her leg over his hip, stroking at her inner thigh once it was in position.

“Dean, please.” She begged, pushing her ass against him.

“Shhh, ‘m right here.” He pacified as he lined himself up. Their matching moans echoed through the room as he entered her slick heat. He moved his hand to her hip, holding her steady as he began to thrust, a slow, steady rhythm that matched the pace of the morning.

Kat gripped at his hand, rolling her body in time with the movement of his hips. Dean buried his face into her neck, inhaling deeply and letting the scent of her sweat-slicked skin surround him.

“Don’t stop.” She begged, moving his hand up to her chest, under her shirt. He took the note, groping at her breast.

“Never.” He panted, sealing his promise with a bite to her collar bone. Kat cried out, toes curling as she felt that coil in her stomach begin tightening. Her hand left his to bury itself between her legs, rubbing at her clit in tandem with his thrusts.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He growled, looking down her body and seeing her pleasuring herself. The sight made his stomach flip. He deftly rolled her nipples between his fingers, pinching it the way he knew would drive her crazy. He knew, with all the different stimulations, that she wouldn't last much longer.

“Shit…” She whimpered under her breath, the first sign to Dean that she was creeping up on her orgasm. She began a mantra of whispered curses with his name mixed in as she sped towards that knife’s edge.

“That’s it kitten.” He encouraged, leaning down to kiss and lick at her neck. He nibbled softly at her skin, tasting the salt of her sweat.

“H-harder.” She begged and stuttered, body shaking under him. She sped up her own motions, rubbing her clit faster as she felt herself about come undone. She moaned loudly as Dean’s hips started snapping forward more forcefully, the lazy pace being abandoned as they chased their pleasure. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed through the bedroom.

“So tight.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he willed himself to hold out until she came. If he could just hold out a bit longer- he could already feel her pulsing around him.

“I… I’m…” She tried to warn, her breath catching each time he thrust deep and hard into her. She couldn’t manage the words, her body starting to seize up.

“Let it go.” He growled through gritted teeth, thrusting erratically. “‘M right there.”

Kat threw her head back, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as her orgasm wracked through her whole body down to her toes. She screamed Dean’s name, shuddering in his arms as her walls convulsed around him. Dean groaned loudly in her ear as the pulsing tipped him over the edge, spilling deep inside of her.

Too soon, the intense pleasure made way to the ecstatic post-haze, both of them panting to catch their breath from their exertion.

“I love you.” He breathed, pressing a kiss to the bite mark that had formed on her collar.

“Love you, too.” She replied, tapping him on the hip with a shaky hand. He pulled out of her, both of them groaning softly - Dean at the loss of her warmth, Kat as he moved against her over sensitive nerves. Her toes curled as she felt his seed spilling out of her, dripping down her thigh.

She rolled over, burying her head against his broad, defined chest. Dean hugged her tightly, knowing she liked to be held close after sex, no matter how or where it happened. Hard, fast, rough and punishing or slow, lazy lovemaking. Bed, shower, counter, the car. She liked to be squeezed to him. She clung to him as she came down from her high, breathing in his musk.

They laid like that as the sun rose higher in the sky, more and more light sneaking into the room through the curtains. Kat was nearly asleep when the alarm on her phone chimed.

“Them’s the breaks, Kat.” Dean told her, patting her twice on the ass before reaching for her phone to silence the alarm.

She groaned and reluctantly pulled away from him, rolling away to collect herself for a few deep breaths. Dean watched her, taking in her chest heaving with each breath. He let his eyes trail down her profile. Her tummy sneaking out under her shirt they’d never gotten around to taking off, her bare hip, her long legs.

“Get up, kitten. You need to shower before work.” He told her. As much as he’d like to know she was still covered in his cum as she dealt with all her parolees, almost like staking his claim, he couldn’t imagine it would be very comfortable for her.

She groaned as she sat up, stretching. “And what about you?” She asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

“Mrs. Souriol is on vacation this week.” He reminded her, sitting up in bed. “No one to train until 10:30.”

“Lucky asshole.” She grumbled, forcing herself to stand. She inhaled sharply at the persistent ache in her core, a satisfied grin painted her face as she dragged her feet towards her ensuite.

Dean watched her go with his own smug smile. He recognized that look and was proud to have brought it out of her. Once he heard the shower start, he slipped his boxers back on to start on breakfast for both of them.