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Donna doesn't remember how many drinks it took for her to start crying while watching The Notebook for probably the hundredth time. She doesn't remember how far down in her bottle of Moscato she got before the tears turned into memories of Doug, their marriage, hurtful words, dark thoughts…
And Donna certainly doesn't remember when the movie ended, or at what point she decided to call Dean freaking Winchester, of all people.
Dean grumbles something incoherent in their motel room at two in the morning, hand fumbling around an unfamiliar nightstand until he finally grasps the vibrating piece of shit, squinting at the bright contrast of his lit up screen to the dark surroundings of the room. Sam's snores continue to drone in the other bed across from his own, so out of courtesy, the eldest hunter rolls out of bed and steps outside into the brisk night air. It's dark, the crickets are chirping… but otherwise quiet.
"Hey Donna, what's up?" Dean asks, his tone gravelly and thick with sleep. There's a note of concern to his voice as well - he never really hears from Donna unless there's a case.
She smiles on the other end, swirling the wine in her glass with a soft and trembling giggle. "Howdy, Dean-o." She slurs out, sniffing a bit as her nose runs.
Dean furrows his brows, his concern growing. "You drunk?" He asks bluntly, rubbing a hand over his face to get the last of the tired haze to leave his mind.
There's a pause on the sheriff's end of the line.
"A little." Donna finally admits sheepishly. Her head is swimming a bit, her brain buzzing with alcohol-induced fuzziness. "How'd ya know?"
"I would think the fact that it's two in the morning would be a huge indicator," he replies with a slight smile, leaning against the wall of the motel and rubbing a hand over the side of his face again. "You don't ever call me this late, not unless it's urgent." He adds, tongue darting out to wet his lips with a soft sigh. "Talk to me, girl. What's goin' on?"
Donna swallows, blinking back the tears as the memories start flooding back. "I just… I just really miss him, Dean. I try to pretend like I don't, like I'm okay by myself but…" Her voice trails off, a lump forming in her throat. "I think I finally watched one too many chick flicks!" She admits with a watery laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
Dean's face tightens, shifting to lean his shoulder into the wall. He wasn't great with these sorts of things, but he wanted to try and be of comfort the best he could. "You're upset about Doug? That dick ex you were telling us about?" He asks. He had to admit he was a little surprised that Donna was still this messed up over the guy. From his understanding, they'd been divorced for a while.
"Yeah, that dick ex-husband of mine." She admits, her free hand reaching up to wipe at the fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's been almost three years since we separated but I still miss him, Dean. I know he was a jerk but… I don't know, maybe I could've been a better wife. Maybe Doug deserved better - maybe he was right…"
She trails off, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "He was the love of my life, y'know? We had some really good times together, before the end."
Dean scoffs, shaking his head a bit. "Yeah, if you call verbal abuse and degradation good times."
He sighs - that was a little harsher than he intended. "Donna, don't get all upset over that douche. You're better off without him. He ain't worth all this." He says sternly while still carrying that tender note of care he's trying to keep in the conversation. Donna needed a friend right now, and hell, if he wasn't trying.
Donna lets out a shaky breath, her grip on her glass so hard that her knuckles are white. "I just… I miss being someone's wife, you know?" She murmurs. "I miss being loved, and being touched, and being told I'm beautiful. I haven't been on a date in a year, and I haven't had sex in longer than that…" Her voice breaks and she sobs, setting her wine glass down on the nearest surface and burying her face in one of her hands.
Dean is in a sort of dumbfounded state on the other end of the line, lips slightly parted with shock at the oversharing info-dump spilling from the woman's mouth. He isn't even sure what to say, just raises his brows, scratching the back of his head before clearing his throat.
Donna doesn't say anything for a moment. She shifts on her couch, pulling her throw blanket up higher in her lap, tracing a wine stain on it that has dried over time. "I uh… yeah. Guess I'm just in the dumps, nothin' serious. You were sleepin'. Kinda dumb to call ya at this hour, huh?"
"Nah, you’re good," Dean replies, his expression softening a bit. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s not sure if he’s more uncomfortable than compassionate at this point. He’d never been great at the whole "comforting women” thing, and especially not when it came to talking about the emotional bits. Still, he at least tries. Donna was family. “You ain’t a bother, Donna.”
Donna laughs a little again, pulling up the facade she was so used to sporting by now - happy, bubbly Donna. "Sorry hun, it's not important, I'll talk to ya later, alright?"
Dean unlocks the Impala at this point, shooting Sam a quick text to wake up to so that the younger hunter wouldn't worry in Dean's absence. Turning the key, he brings the black beauty to life by the time he has Donna's call on speaker. "Nah, it's important. I don't mind. How about I swing by? Sammy and I aren't too far off from ya on this case. Maybe an hour?"
"Dean, hun I'm just a little tipsy…"
"I'll be there in a bit, okay? Don't laugh at me though, I'm in something other than denim and flannel. Might be a little bit of a shocker for ya." He jests, looking down at his sweatpants and hoody as he pulls out of the motel's parking lot. "Catch ya shortly."
When the line hangs up, Donna sits there with a daft expression on her face, setting the phone down just as Allie and Noah have their epic make out session in the rain. In the moment, with her inebriated state, calling Dean had felt like a completely logical solution. But now, she's sobering up pretty fast at the thought of being alone with the man. Alone in her home! Him offering to come over was never even on her radar of thoughts to what could possibly occur tonight. Now, she isn't really sure why she called in the first place, or why he was the first person she went to out of everyone in her contacts list.
And then she realizes how she looks.
Donna is in one of Doug's old, oversized football shirts that he'd left behind, her hair haphazardly tied up in a messy bun, no bra, old Walmart panties, and fuzzy socks. To say she looked like the trophy wife of a trailer park would be at the higher end of sarcastic compliments. God, and her leg hair had to be half an inch long! What was she thinking?!
Downing the last little bit in her glass, the sheriff pushes out of her chair, clothes coming off as she gets her shower warming up, hopping in and getting to work. She hums "Singing In The Rain" as she showers, working conditioner through her hair, shaving everything below the neck. Getting out of the shower, she combs her hair and sprays herself with a little perfume, then goes into the kitchen and adds two beers to the table, making sure the place looks tidy before returning to her room to get ready. This was the most work she'd put into making herself look nice in weeks, and a little part of her had to admit it was exciting, getting all done up for someone. But she had to keep reminding herself that this was Dean, it wasn't like that between them, never would be.
She wasn't some pretty little model, no perfect woman… Doug made that more than crystal clear.
Nonetheless, she still wanted to at least look presentable.
So, Donna slips into a matching bra and panty set, pulls a delicate nightgown out that she hasn't worn in years, and then wraps herself in a bathrobe. Put together while appearing as if she hasn't tried too hard. Comfy yet hopeful, even if she wasn't consciously trying to be. Satisfied with her looks, she pads back out into the kitchen and sits down to wait for Dean, pulling her hair back over her shoulder.
Dean and Sam have been to Donna's place a couple times at this point. Always because of a job, never for anything social, never like this. He isn't sure why he felt drawn to go comfort her this way. Fuck, to comfort her at all beyond some tight lipped condolences on the phone. Dean never did this, with anyone. It just felt like he had to, needed to. After driving for about fifty minutes and listening to an entire Zeppelin album, Dean pulls into an unassuming little neighborhood in Hibbing, Minnesota. A small, gravel driveway led him to park the Impala in front of a white, two story home, with a large covered porch on the front.
The engine goes silent, headlights flicking off a second later as the driver-side door opens with a creak, a pair of bowed legs stepping out. Booted footsteps make their way up the short flight of stairs before reaching the door. Outside, sits a little wooden black bear, holding a sign that says "home sweet home." Hesitating for a moment, Dean lightly knocks on the door, before stuffing his hands in his hooded pockets, shifting a little on his feet.
Donna nearly leaps from the chair she's sitting in at the rapping on the door, a little surprised. She rises, smoothing the front of her white nightgown down, feeling the cool silk beneath her fingertips. She crosses the living room, opening the door with a bright smile. "Heya, stranger."
Dean’s eyes widen for a moment when he sees Donna, his head tilting slightly in surprise. His gaze travels down the front of her body, taking her in. For him, it was obvious to the eye that she'd put in an effort to look nice. Her hair was damp, skin smooth and glowing everywhere he could see. And she smelled wonderfully clean, better than the hotel provided soaps and shampoos he was used to. The man had to admit, she was looking damn good, it was certainly something new seeing her out of the cop uniform, and it was definitely something he could get used to. Quite easily.
Clearing his throat, the elder Winchester gives her a slight smile back, his freckled cheeks blushing up a bit. "Hey. Lookin good, Sheriff."
Donna snorts, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh hush, you. C'mon in." She says, opening the door to allow him to step through. She leads the way past the small mud room, into the open concept living room and kitchen area of her home. "You want a beer?" She asks, gesturing to the island where she already has two bottles staged, glancing back at him. From the looks of it, her intoxication had died down significantly - nerves will do that, sober you up real quick.
Dean raises his brows, stepping through the threshold into the room. "Sure."
He's always a little surprised when he's at Donna's, having always thought the house would be a lot more country bumpkin than it actually was. Instead, the home was warm, comfortable, with soft yellow paint on the walls and pictures of Donna with her family decorating the fireplace mantle - charming, welcoming, just like the homeowner herself. He grabs a beer off the counter, taking a quick sip and turning back to the woman, following her to her couch where they both take a seat.
Donna curls her legs beneath her on the couch, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. She turns to face him, sipping at her own beer as she does. "Thanks for coming, y'know you didn't have to."
Dean shrugs, his body relaxing into the cushions as he looks to her. "Hey, no worries. You seemed pretty upset. We were close, just figured I'd swing by and check on ya. Make sure you weren't too far down the rabbit hole." He smiles slightly, lips curling into a boyish smirk.
She grins back, fiddling with the hem of the throw pillow between her hands. "Yeah, guess I'm a little embarrassed I called ya like that. You were probably in bed."
Dean shrugs again, waving his free hand. "Nah, it's alright. You don't need to apologize. Sometimes you just need to talk to someone." He pauses, taking another drink. "Besides, I don't mind. You know that, right? You're family, Donna."
Donna's smile falters a bit as her cheeks suddenly become flushed with pink again. "Yeah, I know, I just… I don't want to be a bother to ya. I'm always callin' you out of the blue, always needing you boys to help. I'm sure you don't really need that."
Dean opens his mouth to protest, but Donna continues talking, interrupting him. "I mean, it isn't your job to take care of me, y'know?"
Dean huffs, a slight look of annoyance on his face. "Hey, you're not a bother. Ever. Okay? When you need something, you call me. Anytime, any day, whatever it is. We're friends - family. That's what family's for, Donna." He sets his beer down, turning to face her better and fixing her with a firm look. "I'm always here."
Donna looks at him for a minute, a mixture of surprise and awe on her face at Dean's adamant declaration. "You're a good friend, Dean. A good man." She says quietly, setting her own beer aside and shifting in her seat on the old, thrifted couch.
The two of them are close, knees almost touching, and a heavy silence settles in the air.
Dean feels his throat constrict, an unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in his chest as he glances down briefly to where their knees are positioned. He swallows thickly, fidgeting, before moving his gaze to the coffee table. "Hey, don’t go saying that about me. I'm a dick, if you haven't noticed."
He glances back up at her again, unable to resist looking her over. She looked so… soft, sitting there on the couch, hair falling around her shoulders. All he could think about in that moment was how much he'd like to run his fingers through it, holding it up, kissing her neck while he-
Donna laughs softly at that. "Nah, you're just a big ol' grumpy bear, but you've got a heart of gold. And you really are a great man, despite what you think." She reaches out and pokes his knee with her finger, giving him a pointed look.
The expression in his eyes as he glances back up at her is unreadable. Dark green, almost burning with an unnamed emotion. It makes her shift subconsciously, her thighs squeezing together.
His eyes flick down to the motion, noticing her thighs pressing together and his jaw clenches slightly in response. Fuck, maybe coming to see her wasn’t as great of an idea as it sounded. Not when he was already all pent up and emotional. And now, she was sitting right in front of him, all dolled up and looking at him with those pretty doe eyes that always held so much character.
Dean swallows, his own thighs shifting slightly in a subconscious attempt to ease some of the slight pressure in his sweatpants. "Yeah, well…"
Donna can’t help but notice his gaze dipping down, his thighs moving on the couch, the clenching of his jaw. She swallows, her own tongue peeking out to wet her lips, her heart beating a little faster. There was an unspoken tension between them, one that had been present nearly every time they were together, one that Donna had mostly been oblivious to. But at this moment, it felt thick, almost stifling. And it was very much on purpose this time.
"Yeah well… what?" She asks, her voice low.
The tone of her voice nearly made him break, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath as he tried to collect himself. This was Donna, the sweet, Southern sheriff who was off limits. The kind one who put others before herself. He wasn’t supposed to think about her like this, especially when she was clearly on the rebound.
"Donna," he starts, his head tilting to look at her once more, his eyes traveling over her face and settling on her mouth. "You um… You really look beautiful tonight. I mean that." He says, chewing inside his lip for a moment before adding, "Doug didn't deserve a woman like you."
Donna's breath hitches when he compliments her, a faint blush once again rising to her cheeks. "Oh, th-thank you, Dean." She stutters, slightly taken aback by his sincere admission.
Dean was looking at Donna, but for once truly seeing her, his eyes scanning over her features in that intense way of his that made her squirm. Then he mentions Doug, and she’s reminded of why she’d drank so much earlier in the evening, the reason she’d called him. And the anger she’d been feeling before floods through her again, the shame and self loathing coming with it. "But I'm just not… I'm nothin' pretty to look at, Dean. I'm just me. Couldn't even keep Doug's eyes on me because I wasn't enough…"
His jaw clenches again when she stutters a little, the sound affecting him more than it should. Damn, this was supposed to be simple. A friend checking on a friend. A quick stop in and check. But now he was sitting here, less than a foot away from her, trying his best to will away his inappropriate thoughts. And all he really wanted to do was pull her into his lap and touch her. That was all. He really couldn’t ask for any more, right?
"Fuck Doug, he is a piece of shit. Donna, you're beautiful. You are beautiful - I mean that. Any man would be damn lucky to have you."
The passion in Dean's voice surprised her, the anger he had for her ex-husband clear. It warmed her heart, made her want to smile, but she felt herself getting too damn emotional again. Doug said she wasn't enough. She was always too fat, too loud, too this, too that… He didn't really want her. Yet here was Dean, this hardass hunter saying the exact opposite. She was having a hard time allowing herself to believe his words.
Dean watches her get emotional, his jaw clenching even tighter as he fights down the urge to reach out and hold her to his chest. Instead, he sets his beer down and slowly reaches up, moving a loose lock of hair out of her face. Donna's breath hitches at the gentle touch, her heart fluttering as his fingers brush against her skin. She’d been wanting someone to touch her that way for so damn long, even though she’d never admit it to herself or anyone else. It was innocent enough, but she craved it, craved more. Her hands fist the throw pillow in her lap, as she swallows and glances up at him.
"You are perfect to me." He whispers - his voice hasn't been this tender in years.
The couch creaks a bit when he leans in, softly pressing his plush lips against hers, the touch feather-light and sweet.
Donna gasps into the light kiss, barely feeling it at first. She doesn't move, doesn't dare breathe, sure she's hallucinating in her slightly tipsy state. But this felt real - it felt warm and soft and oh, so perfect. Her eyes flutter closed, melting into the brief kiss, her pulse racing in her ears, fireworks popping in her chest. Dean pulls back after a moment, realizing what he'd just done. In the heat of the moment, he'd just kissed his friend, the cute Southern sheriff. He could already hear Sam's smug voice telling him he was an idiot for making that move, how it'd bite him in the ass and what-not. But right now, he didn't care. Donna was looking at him with wide, surprised eyes, her mouth parted a bit, face flushed lightly. That fire in his eyes was back, but for new reasons entirely.
"That okay?" He asks, his voice rougher than before, lips pulled into a small grin.
"Y-yeah." Donna says faintly after a moment with a slight giggle, feeling dazed at having just been kissed by the one person she had been avoiding allowing herself to pine over for the past two years. It felt so real, but a part of her was still convinced it was only a dream. It made her heart ache, thinking she'd never get to experience anything like it again.
"Please, do it again." She whispers, biting her bottom lip.
Fuck, she begged so pretty. Donna was turning out to be so sweet and innocent in ways Dean could have never imagined. Vulnerable, soft, and sweet. He wanted to take her and treat her right. Show her how a real man could rock her world but… she made him want to be gentle, take his time on her, build her up slowly and watch her unravel over and over again…
Donna gasps into the second kiss when roughly textured hands are pawing at the soft meat of her thighs and hips, pulling her up and into the man's lap with ease - Doug had never done that. She's even more rattled when Dean takes advantage of her surprise, the gasp snuffed out by his tongue invading her mouth in the best way, sinfully sliding along her own in a wet tangle of bliss. His hands just roam, slipping up under the bunched up hem of her nighty, thumbs toying with the band of her panties briefly before sliding up her sides, squeezing softly, enjoying the feel of her body under his touch.
Donna melts, a small moan passing between them as she holds his bristled jaw between her hands, licking into his mouth with a renewed sense of eagerness that she hasn't felt in so fucking long. But suddenly she's very aware of her body, her size - she's heavy and in Dean's poor lap, he's touching her rolls, her stretch marks, and now she just feels so wrong!
She pulls away, tears stinging her eyes as she gently takes his wrists, pulling his hands away. "I'm sorry- Dean I'm sorry I'm not…"
Donna sighs with a shaky breath. "I'm not beautiful. I'm… I'm disgusted with myself, Doug was right-"
Dean shakes his head, catching her chin between his index finger and thumb, his other hand resting on her hip. "Donna. I mean it when I say you're beautiful. Inside and out. Hell, if you could see what I see right now," The hunter’s eyes briefly travel her body, clothes slightly disheveled at this point, cheeks flush and bright. "You're smokin'. I mean it."
Donna reaches to wipe her tears, only to meet Dean's thumb, beating her to the action, stroking her cheek after. "You deserve to feel beautiful, to be worshiped head to fuckin' toe. Doug was a pansy, he couldn't handle a woman like you. I can, and I want to show you the time you deserve, Donna. To be treated like a damn queen, even if it's just one night. But only if you want it."
Donna can't help the shiver that jolts down her spine when his thumb brushes over her jaw, catching the remaining traitorous tears that fall. She's never had anyone say these things to her. Her ex-husband constantly nit-picked her, making her feel gross and unattractive in every possible way, and highschool boyfriend's were never any better.
Yet here was Dean, the tall, handsome, gruff hunter sitting here, telling her that he wanted to… worship her. Make her feel beautiful. And the way he was looking at her, like he wanted to ravish her right there on this couch, the fire in his eyes… it made her want to believe him.
"Hey." Dean's voice is thick with emotion and lust, his forehead tilted to press softly against hers as he gently caresses her jaw with his thumb, the rest of his hand splayed along the tender skin of her neck.
"Look at me."
Donna's eyes lock with his, holding the man's gaze steadily as she bites the inside of her bottom lip. Her heart is hammering, breath coming a little quicker, heat pooling in her lower stomach.
"You don't need to think about him anymore." He says quietly, his nose brushing against hers. "Forget everything that's told you you're not good enough."
His hand slowly moves up and into her hair, fingers threading into the silky locks. He can't help but give it a little tug, drawing a soft gasp from the woman atop his thighs. Her head tilts back in response, Dean nosing along her neck. She smelled amazing - soap and some sort of floral perfume. Fuck, it was a dainty scent that was driving him crazy.
"Can you say please for me, sweetheart?" He gravels out, unable to contain the little smirk that plays on his lips.
Donna can feel her breath hitch again at the low rumble in his voice, the slight tug in her hair as he nuzzles at her neck. It's like her body is drawn to whatever vibe is radiating from this man, wanting whatever he has to give. Anything he will give her.
"Please." she sighs quietly, her hands grasping onto his shoulders in anticipation.
Dean groans, placing a heated kiss along her throat before moving to her collarbone, the strap of her nightgown falling off her shoulder.
"Mmn, one more time. Sounds so damn pretty when you say it." He teases, sliding the robe off her arms, and resting it on the arm of the couch.
Donna's breath shudders when his lips brush along her collarbone, her eyes fluttering shut, head tilting to allow him more room. She almost whines at his words, a light blush staining her cheeks and chest.
Her hands dig into his shoulders more and she lets out a soft breath before repeating, "Please. Please, Dean."
Dean hums with a sort of satisfaction, standing up, Donna's legs wrapped behind his hips while she holds onto him for dear life. She's surprised enough to giggle, which in turn has Dean beaming as he carries her off to the bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot.
"That's my good girl." He growls, laying her down gently on her back from the foot of her bed.
Donna's giggling stops when Dean sets her down, her back hitting the sheets and she's suddenly feeling very exposed in this stupid nightgown. But Dean is looming over her, eyes running over her body and she watches the hunger stir in those emerald greens - suddenly she's not feeling so insecure anymore.
Her eyes flutter a little as his hand moves slowly up her leg, pulling the fabric over her hip and exposing her pale flesh to his gaze.
"Fuck, Donna..." Dean sighs thoughtfully, hands roaming her thick thighs, marveling at the smooth, ivory skin, blemished with tiny stretch marks that only added to her beauty. "You're stunning."
Donna's breath hitches again when his hands travel across her skin, calloused fingers finding the imperfections she's so accustomed to hating on herself. But all she can manage to do is make a soft whine, watching with wide eyes as the hunter above her stares down with rapt attention. His eyes are fixed on her, devouring her every curve, the little marks and imperfections that just make her human.
"I-" She begins to say before being cut off by a gasp when his finger traces the band of her panties.
Dean hums with a slight chuckle to her reaction, teasingly toying with the band of the panties where it's settled in the crease of her thigh. His other hand slides up her stomach, soft and pretty, the silky fabric of the gown bunching up around his wrist. Donna is getting goosebumps, her full chest rising and falling deeply as his hand makes its way right back down, squeezing her hip.
"I've gotta ask, Sheriff. Did ya get all done up for me? Or is this just your normal? Because… damn, I'm gonna dream about you like this. It almost feels criminal to take any of it off." Dean says, all while he stalks up the bed, body hovering over her own.
Donna's eyes flutter again as he prowls overtop of her, his lean bulk settled perfectly between her legs. She's feeling trapped and safe all at once, the man on top of her making her feel very different from Doug. And she'd be lying if she said that wasn't a good thing.
"Might have dressed up a little bit more than usual." She murmurs, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, her thighs squeezing involuntarily against his hips. She wants to feel as much of him as she can.
Dean dips to kiss her, slow and sensual for a moment before speaking against her lips, their lashes brushing into one another. "Well, aren't I one lucky son of a bitch." He purrs, one of his hands sneaking back down, finally slipping under the band of her baby blue panties.
Donna groans eagerly into the kiss as his hand finally made its way where she needed it most. Her hands find his hoodie, grasping at the material as her legs bend up at the knee, giving him more room, welcoming him in. The feeling of his clothes against her bare thighs is making her ache more than she can handle, a whine bubbling in her throat.
He chuckles at the noises she's making, knowing damn well he's driving her mad. The man has always been a tease, no matter who he's with, but she's different. He wants to see her unravel and fall apart, to hear the pretty sounds she can barely hold back. It's a power trip like no other.
"You want somethin' sweetheart," He mumbles, lips moving along her jaw, kissing her sensitive skin between words. "Gotta say please."
Donna feels like she's drowning, her brain is mush, between her legs throbbing. It's hard to even think, but God, she needed…
"Touch me, Dean. Please." She moans, fingers moving up the back of his neck, into his short hair.
Dean kisses her again, two fingers brushing their way through her folds - soaking wet and hot to the touch. Even the fabric of her underwear that now rests on the back of his hand was damp. He'd had her worked up for a while now. His index finger rolls and massages at her clit, making her hips buck upward slightly, panting into the kiss. God Dean was good at what he was doing, but it was so slow! She needed more, and needed it now.
"Inside, Dean. Gosh- now." She gasps, her tone more assertive and frantic.
Dean nods, absolutely mesmerized and far too distracted to make a quippy come back, slowly pressing two fingers into her entrance. She tightens around his digits, her pussy pulsing to match the way her body twitches and writhes, their mouths locked in a needy passion that neither had probably expected.
Dean's fingers curl inside of her, hitting that sweet spot deep within after a moment of acclimating. Donna moans loudly, which turns into a groan and smirk against Dean's lips as the man gives a satisfied chuckle. He continues to move his fingers in and out of her at a steady pace while taking short pauses to rub circles into her achy, hardened clit.
Donna's body tenses whenever she feels herself getting closer and closer to orgasm. It was like a slow roller coaster, whereas everytime she almost peaks, Dean backs off, drawing out the process as long as he can. She breaks away from the kiss, whimpering for air as she rides out the steady waves of pleasure thrumming through her body.
"Fuck," she breathes heavily, still panting from the intensity of it all.
Dean pulls his hand slowly out of her soiled panties, grinning wickedly at Donna's reaction. "You like that, darlin'?" he asks with a chuckle.
Donna pouts playfully, her eyes still closed as she tries to catch her breath. "You tease," she murmurs, opening her eyes and looking up at him with a sly smile. "You know I do, now why'd you stop?"
Dean leans in close to her ear, his voice low and husky. "I like to take my time," he whispers before kissing the sensitive skin behind her earlobe.
Before Donna even has time to respond, Dean is gently pulling up her nightgown, helping ease it up and over her head before she lays back again, her blonde hair splayed out on the sheets like a halo. The bra comes next, skin shivering with goosebumps, and nipples hardening in the cool air of her bedroom.
And then, there lies Donna, beautiful and laid out before Dean like a feast to be had, sprawled perfectly atop the soft bedding, chest heaving, body aching with need. All his. Dean's gaze lingers on her exposed breasts, his eyes darkening with desire. He leans in and takes one of her nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before giving it a gentle bite, while a hand gently fists and kneads at the soft, full flesh of her opposite breast.
Donna moans at the sensation, arching her back as she pushes herself closer to him. "Oh God," she breathes out, her hands moving to tangle themselves in Dean's hair. Dean hums, moving from one nipple to the other with his mouth, lavishing attention on each until they're both hot pink and sensitive. He then kisses down Donna's stomach, nipping at the skin along the way until he reaches her panties once again.
With a wicked grin on his face, Dean pulls them off slowly, down and off her ankles. The man catches one of her legs, kissing her at the ankle,and then her inner calf with a smile when their eyes meet. Nothing is said between their grinning faces, because nothing needs to be. It's just a tender, beautiful moment between two friends who love one another - romantic or platonic, it didn't really matter.
Dean settles himself between Donna's legs, her inner thighs like pillows on either side of him, cradling him somewhere warm, safe, and sacred. The hunter's rough hands are again so gentle as they run up and down the outside of her thighs, to her hips and back again. His warm breath is puffing out over her sex, just before gently kissing her pussy lips, brows quirking when she flinches in surprise. His tongue darts out to tease at her folds, little kitten licks and feathered kisses. She was so fucking wet, and the smell was earthy, delicious, and perfect.
His tongue plunges inside of her without warning, licking and slurping her arousal with a satisfied groan.
Donna cries out in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets tightly as Dean continues to work his magic with his tongue. He flicks and sucks at her clit until she's writhing beneath him, moaning then reaching for his hair, legs trembling.
"Dean," she gasps out, her hips bucking up to meet his mouth. "Please..."
Dean pulls back slightly, grinning up at Donna before moving back up to kiss her deeply, the taste of her pussy mingling between their tongues. "You taste so fuckin' good," he murmurs against her lips.
Donna can feel how hard he is through his pants and reaches down between them to rub him through the fabric. Dean groans into their kiss and pushes himself harder against her hand.
"I want you inside me," Donna whispers when they break apart for air.
Dean fucking whines, like a damn pup, needy and wanting.
"Not yet. Fuck not yet- gonna make you cum first darlin'. Want you to cum on my face." He says huskily, stealing another chaste kiss.
Donna moans in frustration, but the anticipation of what this man has planned for her is almost too much to bear. She nods breathlessly, spreading her legs wider and inviting him back between them. Dean dives back in with renewed enthusiasm, his tongue working its way over every inch of her pussy, lapping up all of the sweet wetness that he can find. He flicks over her clit repeatedly until she's shaking pleasure, his thick fingers finding their way back inside her throbbing entrance.
"Dean!" Donna cries out as she feels herself getting closer and closer to orgasm.
Dean growls in response, sucking hard on her clit while simultaneously thrusting two fingers inside of her. The combination is too much for Donna to handle and she comes undone beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing through her body like a tidal wave. Her hands grip tightly in his short hair, keeping him in place while her hips roll down hard against Dean's face. She gasps and shudders, legs trembling as she comes down from the high.
When Dean finally breaks free, he sucks in air, cheeks flushed, mouth tacky in Donna's arousal. He laughs out a little, licking his lips as he stands from the bed, peeling off his hoodie before eagerly climbing back over the sweet sheriff again.
"Fuck, you taste so damn good, Donna." He murmurs, licking into her mouth, cradling her jaw in his hand.
Donna smirks into the kiss - Dean was becoming more and more eager to please, excited to dote on her, bend to her whim… It was giving her some ideas alongside the confidence.
Donna can feel the hardness of him pressing against her thigh, and she reaches down to wrap her hand around it, stroking him through the pilled fabric of his sweats. "Now it's your turn," she whispers seductively into his ear, nipping his lobe.
Dean groans in response, pulling away from their kiss so that he can shed the rest of his clothes hurriedly. He turns back for the bed, only to see Donna sitting on the edge, digging through her nightstand. She smirks, patting the bed beside her. "C'mon, lay back big guy." She hums, twisting to sit up on her knees as the mattress shifts under Dean's weight, laying back with a dazed look on his face.
That's when Dean hears an all too familiar jingle of handcuffs, Donna sporting a devious little grin as she pulls two pairs out from behind her back. Donna giggles.
Dean's eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the handcuffs, but he can't deny that they're turning him on. Fuck, Donna was a babe, and Doug was an idiot for letting her go! The hunter watches as Donna crawls up his body, her fingers trailing over his skin as she straddles him, the plush roundness of her ass pushing back against his hardened length, making him hiss a little. He runs his hands up her thighs, to her hips, before sliding back further and gripping at her cheeks with a stupid grin.
"You like that?" she asks seductively, rocking back against Dean's cock, pulling a groan from him.
"Fuck yeah," he says breathlessly before watching as Donna fastens one cuff around Dean's wrist, attaching it to the bedpost, repeating the process with his other wrist.
Dean's heart rate spikes, stomach rolling with butterflies, feeling a rush of excitement at being restrained by this beautiful woman. He's been bound before, but something about Donna was making this all feel so new and wonderful.
Once he's securely bound to the bedposts, Donna leans down to kiss him deeply - her tongue exploring every inch of his mouth while her hands roam over his chest and stomach, Dean whining a bit, his hips rolling up to try and get some friction from her. Her hand moves lower until she reaches his cock, which is still rock hard, and already leaking precum from all of their earlier activities. Donna finally dares to look, her gaze centered on how the man's length slips and glides through her fingers, realizing now just how big he was - at least in comparison to Doug.
Donna gulps, confidence faltering for just a moment. "Oh boy, that's uh… different. Oh gosh, you're- you're much bigger..." She says quietly, glancing up at Dean who is just laying there, expression cocky and smug.
"What, you're surprised?" He asks, his tongue peeking out momentarily to wet his lips. "Too big for you, darlin'?" He asks, a slight condescending tone to his voice.
Donna frowns, giving his dick a squeeze, making him wince and squirm, a low "Fuck," mumbled under his breath.
"Now I didn't say too big, did I?" She asks, spitting on his cock, using her grip to spread it around, climbing over Dean's lap.
Dean can only watch, awestruck and dumbfounded as the woman positions herself right over his hard cock, prepared to spear herself on it. Donna lowers herself slowly, her pretty little pussy stretching around the girth, taking him deep inside with a satisfied moan.
Dean finally groans in response, the sound being stalled as his brain struggles to catch up with his body, feeling the tightness and warmth of Donna's pussy as she rocks down on top of him.
"Ohhhh boy," Donna sighs, tilting her head back with her eyes shut, rolling her hips, grinding into the penetration. "Oh- yes!"
"Yeah, fuck yeah. I know." Dean whispers, his voice strained and vulnerable, brows downturned, eyes pleading.
Donna braces her hands into his chest, breath a little shaky as she lifts her hips, dropping them back down with a sigh, feeling the vibration of Dean's moan under her palms. Dean clenches his eyes shut, hands wringing in the cuffs a little, wanting nothing more than to grip her hips and jackhammer up into her tight heat. But he couldn't, and it was driving him mad.
"Donna please. Fuck please-"
Donna has started into a painfully slow rhythm, savoring the stretch, the fill, the way it feels as Dean's member leaves her, and drives back deep inside. "Please what, hun? Use your words, big boy."
Jesus… Donna was going to haunt his dreams for weeks.
"Don't stop," he whimpers breathlessly, pushing his head back into the pillows, giving an assertive, frustrated tug on the cuffs. "Oh fuck please- don't stop."
Donna felt so powerful, having this strong warrior of a man turn to putty beneath her. She had him whimpering like a puppy! She's never felt like this before, this sexual or strong. She takes his words as encouragement and picks up the pace - bouncing up and down on top of him like a woman possessed.
Dean sounds wonderfully pathetic beneath her, needy and vulnerable in a way that so few were given access too. It made Donna feel special to be given this hidden side of the infamous hunter. A hunter that was feared by so many. Who was now coming apart because of her. Her body.
“Say it again, Dean.” Donna whispers in Dean's ear, “Sound so pretty when you say please. When you beg.”
Dean goes wide-eyed, stammering out his pleas through tender moans and panting breaths, eagerly trying to buck his hips up into her in response. This sudden dominance streak was going to be the death of him.
The sounds of bodies slapping together, squeaking springs, the headboard hitting the wall, passing moans, and dirty exchanges fill the room as they both get lost in pleasure. As they near their peak, Donna leans forward to kiss Dean deeply while continuing to move her hips against his. He can feel her walls clenching around him, the sensation pushing him closer to the brink, an all too familiar knot tight and throbbing in his groin.
"Donna- fuck Donna I'm gonna cum. Jesus… nng!" Dean pushes out, his dick giving some sharp twitches inside her.
Donna can only nod, more than thankful that she's on the pill as she reaches down and rubs her clit, riding down on him hard. She can't talk anymore, she is also close to her own bliss. His knees pull up, stomach muscles fluttering as he gasps, moaning as he spills inside her walls. Donna feels his warmth blossoming out through her center, lewd and wet squelches audible from the motions between where their bodies are connected. Finally her body does a small convulsion, her pussy throbbing and contracting around Dean's still sensitive length, orgasm ripping through her as she slouches over him.
They lay there for a moment, out of breath, sensitive and exhausted. Dean wants to wrap his arms around her, moving only to remember he's still bound. So he turns his face, kissing the back of her head, nuzzling into her hair. Donna sighs, sitting back just enough to face him, kissing Dean sweetly, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs.
"Thank you." She whispers, kissing the corner of his mouth.
Dean gazes back at her, his expression soft, and his eyes full of so much emotion, it was extraordinary. He can only smile a little, unsure of what to say.
After another kiss Donna dismounts, the man's cum slowly running out of her like molasses while she unlocks the cuffs. Dean rubs at his lightly bruised wrists while sitting up with a sore grunt, eyes tracking the woman as she briefly slips into her bathroom, coming back with a couple hand towels. She extends one out to Dean, who is now sitting on the edge of the bed, patting her face down with the other towel.
Dean smiles warmly, taking the towel and setting it beside him, pulling her between his knees with his hands on her hips. Donna gives him a pointed look, trying not to smile.
"Look at you, girl. God damn you're fucking beautiful." He says, bringing her hand to his mouth, kissing the backs of her fingers.
Donna slaps him lightly with her towel, sitting sideways in his lap, arm draped behind his neck. "Oh, shush you. You already got boinked." She says playfully.
Dean snorts with an amused expression, kissing her other hand now. "I'm not just saying it for sex, Donna. I think you're gorgeous. Really. And holy hell you fuck like an animal. Didn't expect that out of you." He teases, nodding back towards the cuffs that are still dangling from the bed posts.
Donna blushes, rolling her eyes. "I am a cop, Dean. You had to have seen cuffs coming at the very least."
Dean laughs, pulling her up higher in his lap, shifting them back onto the bed. "Yeah, yeah. Got a point, sweetheart. You do have a point." He sighs, settling their bodies back into the mattress, pulling the blankets up over them.
Donna ends up tucked perfectly into Dean's side, his arm now behind her back, pulling her in close to his body. She looks up to his face from his chest, eyes puzzled. "You're staying?" She asks, sounding surprised.
Dean looks down, eyes giving away a little worry. "Oh, did you want me to leave?" He asks, his thumb stroking her upper arm.
Donna's eyes widened a little, shaking her head. "Oh! No, no. I just thought you'd, um…"
Dean's face softens, hand running through her hair. "Fuck you and leave." He finishes, feeling Donna tense just a little bit.
"Yeah…" She sighs, relaxing back into his body heat. "But I'm glad you're staying. I like this." She laughs a little on the last bit, giving him a loving squeeze, turning to kiss his chest.
Dean hums in satisfaction, yawning as his hand runs up and down her arm. "Me too. This is nice… you're amazing. I mean it, Sheriff. You're a hell of a woman."
"Thank you, Dean. This has been the best thing to happen for me in a long time." She whispers, her hand slowly running along his chest and she snuggles in to get more comfortable. Something in her had changed, she felt like herself again. If she weren't so tired, she would likely cry.
Dean smiles silently to himself, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. This felt so easy, with Donna - whatever the hell this was. No pressure, no forced emotions… It was as easy as breathing. He knows that their lives will always be dangerous and uncertain but for now, he's just happy to be here at this very moment, being what his friend needed the most. He pulls her in closer, kissing the top of her head before settling in for the night. They both fall asleep surprisingly fast - two souls entwined in each other's embrace, finding solace and comfort amidst the chaos of their world.
Sam was going to have an absolute heyday with this one.