Dean Winchester Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Schematics for a competitor's showcase, and a meal ticket into more successful ventures. Sitting before his desk, is a pixie of a man, with skin like mocha and eyes as brown as honey. Deacon Lancaster dons his low-cut curly hair that contrasts the fairness of his brown skin. The epitome of debonair, in his navy-blue jacket over white linen, popover shirt, two buttons loose. A style so casual yet appeals to a more formal approach on menswear. Deacon's petite height and taut muscles fill out the shirt, with incredible symmetry. Highlighting his physical appearance, which pulls attention anywhere he goes.

“I figured if we’re going to break the bastard, we’ll break him good.” Dean squealed again in her excitement. She was not what she would consider a girly girl. She was jeans and flip-flops most of the time. Her shirt depended on her mood. It could range from grungy t-shirt to name brand cashmere sweater. And she despised pastels. They washed her out and she quite simply preferred the vampire look. Dean didn’t consider herself goth or emo, but she liked the look. Where her mom had encouraged femininity, Uncle Owen embraced her dark side. There was a quiet voice in her head that told her he was considering what teenage boys would see. Since he had his daughter right out of high school, he kne

I froze, my entire body going rigid. I turned slowly, and there he was. Dean, coming down the stairs, his footsteps heavy and his dark blue eyes locked on mine. He was dressed in a black shirt and dark jeans. His hair, which was growing white strands each day, was slightly messy like he had just rolled out of bed. His brows were furrowed, and there were small but noticeable bags under his eyes. They didn't make him look tired, though. They made him look even more handsome. More unapproachable. More dangerous.

— I would like him to talk more: his voice is high, but at the same time a little hoarse, turned out to be very pleasant. Under the leather jacket, an abundance of weapons glistening in the semi-darkness is noticeable: knives on belts in sheaths, a pair of pistols in leather holsters of the old type. — I'm talking about race. If you want, you can ask me later...— The reflections of Dean's glowing eyes in his amulet, walking on the material of the turtleneck, almost blinded me and I barely held the phone in my hands.

Brown hair, olive skin, amber eyes, thick eyebrows. Dean is beautiful in a slightly feminine way, with softer features and a slender frame. Aiden is handsome in a rough, manly way, with a sharp jaw and big shoulders. Damon is just plain gorgeous, like a movie star. Perfect in every way. He’s just… very aesthetically pleasing. I can’t stop looking at him as we all eat together in my new house. Mansion, actually. God, I still can't believe I'm in this situation. We've never been poor, but after my parents' divorce, we were struggling.

Suddenly the girl with the bloodied nose looked up at us, then the rest did. “Oh dear Dex, have you got bickering favourites again?” Austin smirked lowly into my ear as he strolled by. His gold chains glinting in the sun, making him look older and pompous. “Then again that blonde one is pretty, I can see why you’d want her to owe you one. ” Whether he did it on purpose or not, the fact he adjusted his pants whilst looking straight at her made me want to rip his throat clean out. What the hell is wrong with me.

Dean obeyed instantly. “God,” he whispered emotionally, “you really do understand art.” I laughed quietly while taking several more shots. The streetlight cut across his face perfectly, catching the metal of his piercings and rings while the dark yard behind him blurred softly into shadow. Between the sleepy suburban background and his aggressively rebellious pose, the entire photo somehow looked absurdly stylish. “Okay,” I said after checking the results. “These are actually unfairly good.” Dean immediately rushed over to look. The second he saw the photos, he looked genuinely moved.

I asked Felix to get all the employees out because we want privacy. "Why do you need the M-3 prototype?" I asked as I opened the safe to show the prototype to Dean. He took it and he brought it to the smart table to see the detailed description of the M-3. Me and Dean love working on technology. He's a really smart guy and no one really can beat his brain. He's a doctor but also a creator for weapons. Me, Phoenix and Dean had been designing guns and some other things. He looked at the M-3 and he plugged his USB showing me the new design for X-10. I turned to Dean disbelief when I saw the new design for the gun.

Daniel smiles gently, reassuringly. I take a deep breath and think about it. “Okay. Dean likes to look intimidating to people. He uses his looks, but he would often pick a fight with the weakest person in the room. He wanted to beat the guy and have people fear him. If it looked like the fight was going into the other guy’s favour, he would stop the fight and joke about it. Get drunk with the guy and abuse me when we got home.” I shrug. It was the norm. “He smokes. Davidoff’s Slims. The smell used to make me sick. Thankfully, it’s not a favoured brand in Australia. He drinks the usual ‘anything he can get his hands on’.” I pause, for I don’t know how long. “Was he into fitness?”

The two men behind them shielded the children from the surroundings. A beautiful female figure stared at Dean with rounded and fiery eyes that could pierce through. Dean is a top quality man who can only be found but not owned. A sexy mature man with a stunning appearance. This appearance makes people can't resist wanting to get closer. Even if they come for a one-night stand or something, they are willing to fight over it.