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Growing up with John Winchester as a father has taught Deanna that you get what you need when you want it. Life in the bunker is easier now that she doesn’t have to go hungry or worry about hustling enough money to pay for a room. The bunker has its own set of showers with hot water all the time. A fridge which they keep stocked all year round and a bed of her own. One without weird stains or funky smells. She is thankful that she doesn’t have to beat away guys advances when they mistake her for a two dollar hooker.
Cas joined then in the bunker two months after the fall of the angels. She takes to human life surprisingly well. She struggles to get her hair to sit right; it always falls out of the bun she pulls it up in to. Dea has offered to teacher her how to braid her hair but she always shakes her head and shrugs saying she like it like this. However, she masters cooking and laundry with a surprising quickness. She learns how to fire a gun and bandage a wound. Her nimble finger skimming over Dea, creating shocks that zip through her body.
It is a Wednesday when Deanna forgets to knock.
She walks in on the fallen angel with her legs bare, thighs exposed and her hand in lacy blue panties. She flushes red, unable to stop watching the dark haired beauty explore herself. She listens to Cas as she gasps and moans. The angel bites her lip and strokes a finger over her nipple. Her lashes flutter over her cheeks.
Deanna knows she should stop watching but the angel looks beautiful, her hair spread around her, hoodie pushed up over her boobs. She has obviously not worn a bra again. She wears Deanna’s hoodie, faded AC/DC logo bunched around her ample breasts. Her nipples are dark brown and surprisingly small. From the glorious noises she is making Dea is sure they are sensitive too. She feels a noise bubbling in her throat as Cas sucks her chapped lips into her mouth, teeth worrying the pink cupid bow line.
Deanna wondered when Cas learnt to do this, has she ever seen her touch herself. She knows the fallen angel used to watch over her, she is suddenly curious to how much she saw. Did she see Deanna the first day she got back from Hell, in pain and frustrated, did she watched as she slipped her hand into her panties. The only clean object of clothing on her. Did she watch as Dea got herself off in a gas station bathroom, how she couldn’t keep her moans in, how she soaked through her panties onto her jeans. How her finger came away smelling of strawberries, how her cheeks were flushed and heated. How she knows everyone heard her.
Had she seen Deanna make use of the tumble dryer in different states? Late night sat on the machine, tight skirt hiked over her thighs as she rocked against the machine.
Or how Deanna had picked up girls only for years after Cassius. How she learnt from a woman, a bored housewife with perky little tits and a pussy as sweet as syrup, how to please a woman. How she learnt her own body and never let a guy get away with not giving her an orgasm. How she fell in love, if only for the night, with every girl she slept with. Did she see how Deanna gave her heart away and worry that there wasn’t enough left to keep her alive.
When Castiel had her eyes screwed what did she think off. Did she think of Sam, of a guy fucking her. Did she think about Dea the same way that the blonde thought about Cas. Did she think about Deanna’s head between her legs, making her come over and over again. Did she think about riding her fingers, spasming around her as Dea filled her up.
Cas’s hair curls around her face, framing her high cheek bones and angular nose perfectly. Her normally pale cheeks covered with a red blush. Cas whimpers, finger digging into her skin, biting into soft flesh. Her body it torte, she hovers on the brink of orgasm. Her fingers clumsily rubbing over her clit. Her breathy moans fill the room and Dea feels herself get wet, her pussy crying out for attention, heat boiling in her belly.
She Cas comes with a gasp, high and honest. Her hips rise off the bed, feet scrabbling to get purchase on the flannel sheets. Dea watches as Cas mouth around silent words, her leg shake and her chest race. She watches as the fallen angel continues to stroke over her clit, aftershocks quivering through her body.
She opens her sapphire eyes, drowsily she stretches over the bed, her feet pushing the duvet onto the floor. She smiles at Dea, relaxed and happy.
‘Hello Deanna. How long have you been there?’ She asks, voice raspy. Casual as if Dea did not just see her best friend exposed and coming.
‘Cas.’ Dea gaps out, her pupils are blown, arousal spreading through her body. Her cunt screams for attention. Her best friends hand is still in her panties, she smiles at Deanna, her fingers tracing her lips. Deanna struggles to find words. Her head is full of smoke, Cas’s gasp echoes through her mind.
‘You saw me; I think it is only fair that I saw you.’ The angel says her eyes glisten with curiosity and impish wonder.