𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Being seventeen without having your G1 was pretty pathetic. At least in Deans eyes. Dean knew how to drive before the age of fourteen so, when he found out, he practically laughed in your face. No matter how many times you told him “I don’t need to drive anywhere so I’m not rushing to get my license.” He never cared. Still saying it’s absolutely ridiculous you’ve never been behind the wheel or touched the gas pedal at seventeen years old.

So, here you are. Sunday afternoon, being taught how to drive in Deans 1967 Impala on the very top floor of a parking garage you came across (which didn’t help your nerves). You tease him by saying, “So, if i mess up, we’re falling 10 stories. Great.” Earning an eye roll by Dean from your dramatics.

You were sitting in his lap in the drivers seat, one of his hands on the wheel and the other on your hip. You insisted he stayed close incase you panicked, accidentally pressing on the gas instead of the break and start flooring it into the stone wall.

“You ready?” He asked with a smirk on his lips, clearly amused by your nerves.

“No but yeah..” You gripped the steering wheel for dear life, earning a soft chuckle as he rubbed your hip to ease your stress

“Alright.. put her in gear.” He said as he pressed a kiss against your shoulder before resting his chin on it. You followed his instructions and moved the gear stick into fourth. “Atta girl.”