Chapter Text
“I’m telling you, I don’t think we should do this,” you said, staring at the brick building you were watching. “You and I can deal with this just fine.”
“You know full well that we could use the backup,” Dean said shortly, his fingers tapping a rhythm out on the steering wheel. Then his green eyes flicked to your face and he grinned. “Is someone feeling a little pent up?”
“Shut up.”
“Awe, that’s it isn’t it. You know we probably have some time…” Dean trailed off, his hand resting high on your thigh, squeezing as his tongue swiped along his bottom lip.
“Stop it,” you hissed, tossing his hand away from you even as your pussy throbbed with want. “We aren’t doing that right here are you fucking crazy?”
“It’s been said,” Dean grinned. “Are you really gonna sit there and pretend you don’t want to?”
“Look,” you said, ignoring his question and nodding out the windshield at the light that just flicked on in Sam’s apartment. “Seems like someone is finally home. Let’s go.”
“Relax, sis. No point rushing into things. Let’s wait until his guard is down.”
Dean’s fingers went back to tapping on the wheel while you took a moment to let out a soft exhale and shift in place to ease some of the tension that his words and touch triggered. This was a stupid idea. For so many reasons.
“I’m going to see what I can dig up at the library.” You hear Sam say as you bend closer to the spotty mirror in the latest motel room, putting the finishing touches on your eyeliner.
Smack .
The slap to your ass jolts you forward with a gasp, and before you can whirl around, Dean’s there. Hand wrapping around your throat to pull you against his broad chest as his lips brush over your ear. “Fuck, princess you know what these shorts do to me.”
Of course you did, and if you didn’t the hard press of his dick against your ass would tell you all you need to know. But this couldn’t happen.
“ Dean ,” you hiss, meeting those dancing green eyes in the mirror even as his hand slides down the center of your body, making you tremble with want. “We can’t .”
“Come on,” Dean nearly whines in your ear, his tongue tracing over it. “It’s been fucking weeks. I miss being inside of you.”
The words make your insides quiver with lust, heat pooling between your legs as his fingers slip to tease the skin right under the waistband of your shorts. You can feel your resolve crumbling. All the promises you made that this can’t happen . Not with Sammy right up in your business.
“Sam could come back any minute,” you groan as his fingers push ever lower.
“Yeah, he could,” Dean says, his teeth scraping over your skin, voice dropping low. “And I know just how hot the idea of getting caught makes you.”
As if to prove it to you, his fingers slip through your wet slit. His hum of approval vibrates through his chest and into your back. His middle finger finds your clit, swirling over it in a way that hazes your mind with arousal and smashes your resolve to dust. The moan trembles out of you, your head falling back against his shoulder.
In the mirror, you see his smug smile flash through half lidded eyes, victory etched all over his face as his lips descend to your neck and his fingers dive into you. When they crook against that perfect spot inside of you, there’s no way to stop the instinctual way you jerk your hips into his hand.
“There’s my good girl,” Dean’s voice is husky and heavy with his own lust and arousal, fingers pumping hard into you as he quickly has you falling apart with just his hand. His groan is deep when he feels your walls squeezing tight around his fingers.
Then it’s a mad desperate rush. Hands groping and tugging at clothes, those barriers that are in the way from what you both want. Dean’s teeth sink into your bottom lip as he pushes you up on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he shoves his jeans and boxers down his legs.
The bathroom echoes with twin groans of delight as Dean finally sinks into you. Dean’s hand fists in your hair as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and dig your heels into his ass. You want him deeper, your walls rippling around him as he drags you right to the edge of the counter while his hips snap. Now the only sounds bouncing off the walls are the wet sounds of his cock burying into you, the slap of skin against skin, and ragged pants and moans.
Sometimes, there are a lot of words between the two of you, Dean in particular having a fondness for saying the filthiest things to you. But other times, like right now, there’s no time between the headlong rush of mutual needs.
Dean’s hand flies out to brace against the mirror as he leans you back just a bit more, pulling your hips into more of an angle so he can hit you even deeper. As his thrusts turn clumsy and jerky, you reach down to rub your fingers over your clit so you can push yourself right over the edge you’re poised at. The second you clamp around him, Dean picks up his speed so he can throw himself right over with you.
“Fuck, princess,” Dean groans, his forehead resting against yours as he straightens up and brings you with him. “I can’t be away from this sweet pussy of yours for that long ever again.”
You snort as you reach up to push your hair off your face. “Dean, we’ve gone longer than a measly few weeks before. I’m sure you can handle it.”
“That was before,” Dean mumbles. “Before this last year, the longest we went was a handful of days.”
“Yeah, well, get used to it. We aren’t traveling alone anymore, remember?” you say, pushing against his shoulders so he backs up.
“I don’t see why that should matter.”
You roll your eyes but ignore the comment. There’s no point in arguing about it now. When you hop off the bathroom counter, you wince as you feel the slow drip of his cum making it’s way down your thighs. Sighing heavily, you push at your hair again.
“Why don’t you go on and get a head start, I’ve gotta clean up first before I head out.”
“No.” The ringing command has you pausing in the act of pulling your shirt off, your eyebrows shooting up.
“I’m sorry?”
Dean’s hand comes up to rest against your face for a moment. “Don’t clean up.”
“Dean, I’m not gonna spend the rest of the night with your shit leaking out of me.”
“But I want you too.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“Come on, it’s literally one of the only ways I’ll ever be able to claim you as mine.”
Your forehead wrinkles as you stare up into his eager face. “I’m sorry?” you repeat.
“Well, it’s not like I can marry ya,” Dean’s hands slide down your sides. “Or put a damn baby in you.”
Heat floods your face at his words, and you shift on your feet uncomfortably. Even though you're on extremely effective birth control, sometimes you still wake up in the middle of the night in a panic about the thought that you’re pregnant. It’s absolutely not something that can happen, least of which is because neither of you actually want kids.
Dean’s hands glide back up your side, under your shirt, thumb brushing tantalizing along your breasts. “So, the only thing I got is when I mark up this pretty skin of yours, or when my cum is leaking out of one of your sexy holes.”
His lips brush against yours, teasing them open for him so he can kiss you long and deep. When he lets you breathe again, his forehead rests back against yours. “So, please, just leave it for me huh?”
Fuck. You can’t resist anything he asks you to do when he uses that plaintive tone of his, or when his body is molded to yours like it belongs there. But you’re just as stubborn and a smart ass as he is, so, you sigh dramatically before you agree.
“Alright, fine . I guess I can leave it for now.”
His pleased sound and the way he says ‘’good girl’ has the lust that always seems right there at the surface for him, sparking back to life. But you’ve already risked Sam coming back for too long, so you nudge him back and bend down to wiggle your thong and shorts back on.
As he follows you out of the bathroom, his hand connects with your ass again. “You wore these on purpose didn’t you?”
“Not at all,” you say with a smirk tossed over your shirt. “I can’t help it that these showcase my ass so well.”
“Mm, and it’s a damn fine ass.” You hear him mutter as the two of you leave the motel room together.
While Sammy buried himself into research, you and Dean hit up the local dive bars. Dean to hustle pool for cash and you to flirt information out of the locals. Hence why you’d been wearing your ass showcasing shorts to begin with.
You are a great hunter, just as skilled as your brothers. John Winchester didn’t raise any weak children. Just because you were a girl didn’t mean he treated you any different than his boys. Each one of you though had certain skills that were better than the others. For Sammy, it was anything to do with computers and research. Dean, he was the best at all things mechanical or electrical. And you? You were the best at manipulating information from pretty much anyone. Men, women, other—it didn’t matter to you, you could play them all.
Though tonight, you felt a little off your game. And you know it has everything to do with the knowledge that you’re walking around with panties soaked with Dean’s cum while you let other men think they have a chance of sticking their dicks in you. It also didn’t help that every so often you caught the hungry look on Dean’s face as he surreptitiously watched you from the pool tables.
Usually, when the two of you are working like this, Dean’s the consummate professional. Well, pretend professional anyway. But tonight, he seems more riled up than usual. Which is how you found yourself pinned against the door in the men’s room while his hands on your ass and his mouth hot on yours.
“Fuck, Dean,” you mutter when his mouth leaves yours to race over your jaw. “What has gotten into you?”
“Dunno. Fucking want you.”
“Yeah, I can tell that,” you snicker, unable to help yourself with running your hand over the very obvious bulge in his pants. Smirking when he groans in your ear as you squeeze it.
“Mean,” he grunts before you feel the sharp nip of his teeth over your collar bone.
“Yeah, well, you started it.”
Someone pounds on the door at your back, and you press your face against his shoulder to stifle your giggling snort as Dean lifts his head and tells whoever it is to fuck off. “Dean, we should go.”
“No, I’m not done yet.” Dean’s mouth returns to its former spot on your collarbone, pinching your skin between his teeth as he sucks on the spot. Heat boils to the surface of the spot, arrowing right down to throb in your pussy. When he finally lifts his head away, he grins at the very obvious mark. “There. Now we can go.”
“Very mature,” you comment drily as Dean sticks his head out to check if the coast is clear.
“Who needs mature? Now if any man gets to third base with you tonight, he’s gotta stare my claim right in the damn face.”
“Maybe he’s only planning on fucking me from behind?”
Dean stops and sends you a look that never fails to send little thrills licking through you. “Well, my cum covering your thighs will take care of that, won’t it?”