Venom

021

"Alright, let's go through the plan one more time," Helen said from inside the bathroom.

Dean grunted annoyed from the bedroom, waiting for her. "For the last time, Helen, we've got it! We went through it a thousand times. It'll all work out in the end, alright?" he told her. "Now, are you ready? You've been in there for centuries," he added, heavily sighing. He was lying on the bed, his eyes covered by his arm.

The bathroom door creaked open. "I'm ready, you annoying asshole," she said as she walked out, her high heels clapping against the floor. "What'd you think?" she asked, smiling.

The mattress shifted as Dean sat up, turning around to look at her. His jaw tightened and his cock hardened. Sweet Jesus, she looked... Well, Dean was an atheist, but he would worship her as a goddess. As his goddess. He would get on his knees and pray to her every morning and every night.

The dress she was wearing was in black velvet with lace on the hem and on the deep neckline. It had a small slit on the thigh, and hugged her curves like a second skin. Overall, the dress was simple. But on her it looked a hundred times better. She looked like a Christmas present, and Dean wanted to unwrap her immediately.

Helen smiled at the hunger in his clear eyes. Even though she was wearing heels - black like the dress - she was still fairly shorter than him.

He looked tastily handsome. She wouldn't mind taking off her shoes and getting on her knees for him. Dean was wearing a black suit with matching tie, and a white shirt. "You look, ahem-" he cleared his throat. "You look good." Helen grinned.

Dean had to force his gaze elsewhere, or else he'd jump at her instantly. That dress left little to imagination. "Thank you," she said. "You look very handsome, too," she then added, walking towards him, swinging her hips. She lifted her hands, gripping his tie and tightening it just a little, brushing her palm along its length. Then, she smiled at him.

He only glanced at her, scared that if he looked at her for too long she might disappear, and he'd wake up from a dream. When he looked again, she was still there, intact. Real.

She walked away, looking for something in the drawer in the bathroom.

"Everyone will stare at you, you know that, right?" he asked as she moved back to the bedroom, looking into the nightstand, giving him a wonderful vista of her ass. Christ.

Helen scoffed. "Yeah." Where the hell was it?

Dean crossed his arms. "You sure you don't wanna get changed before that happens?" he asked.

Helen shook her head, her hands roaming in the little table. "Nope, I'm fine."

"Alright."

She frowned. Standing straight, she spun on her heels, looking at him. "'Alright'?" she repeated, tilting her head.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah," he chuckled, confused.

"That's it?" she asked. He looked at her, waiting for an explanation. "Like, no overly protective and possessive boyfriend behavior? No 'you're mine and no one but me can see you in that dress, go change!' kind of thing?" she questioned, putting her hands on her hips, mocking a masculine voice.

Dean furrowed his brows, his lips twitching. "No? I mean, I know you're mine. I don't need you to wear something else to prove it. Why would I give up such a sight," he winked. "Plus," he went on, "You can wear whatever you want. I'll take care of the men bothering you."

Helen curved her lips downwards, surprised. "Hm," she hummed. "Surprising," she pointed out.

He barked a laugh. "What, why? Who would tell their girl what to wear. That's just dumb. I don't see girlfriends telling their boyfriends to go change, am I right?" he chuckled, waiting for her to laugh as well. She simply shrugged, shaking her head.