જ⁀➴ food run (and sam's soon disappointment)
summary: after a long hunt-and the need for food- dean decides he needs you now.
pairing: dean winchester/reader, mentions of sam winchester but he isn't present
cw/tags: car sex, unprotected sex, dean 'if theres a hole theres a goal' winchester, edging, riding, fingering (f receiving), making out, hickeys, fondling of breast, like.. 3(?) spanks, no use of y/n, lottss of pet names, 'baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, ect', it's dean winchester.. what do we expect?, semi(?) public sex, the food is cold💔 poor sam, no beta we die like castiel
a/n: omg... hey guys.. back from the dead.. oops. i've had this in my drafts since august and i finally got up on my ass and finished it. i have like.. more than 10 fics in the waiting that i WAS gunna post for kinktober but got lazy. anyways, new fic format woo! pls enjoy this, lmk if theres any grammar mistakes </3 ily guys
word count: 1.5k
it was supposed to be just a quick drive for some fast food, nothing more, nothing less. the sun had long since set, the food was getting cold in the front seat, and baby had never been this dirty.
“dean!–” you gasp out as he pulls you into his lap, crotches grinding against each other in brief contact. your knees dig into the nice leather of the car, knocking every so often against the metal of a seatbelt.
dean’s hands planted onto the plush of your hips, pressing messy kisses against your lips while every so often bumping his crotch against yours.
“c’monn, i’ll be quick. i promise,” he rasped against your skin, glancing up to give you that grin before continuing his ministrations.
“that’s what you said last time, and the time before that, and–” he cut you off with a slap to your ass, his fingers digging into it as he continued to attack your neck.
“yeah, yeah. sammy’ll live with a bit of cold food again,” he murmured, his breathing growing heavy.
you didn’t know what got him so worked up in the first place; you all had just finished another hunt. It was grueling, bloody, and ugly. all the things sex with dean wasn’t.
or maybe that’s got him so worked up. how good you looked in your formal attire when posing as the FBI (agent hotchner. what can you say? you're a bit of a nerd.) with a pencil skirt that was a bit too short to be considered ‘professional.’ it could be the way sweat dripped down your face after a messy grave digging, or how you wiped away the blood on your lips with the back of your hand. maybe that’s why he had given you that look, the one that made you think, “why must he cheapen the moment?”
well, it was too late to dwell on the past now. not with the way dean was grasping at your clothes and trying to take them off.
“can you really blame me, sweetheart?” dean groaned, his southern drawl sounding like music to your ears. “been teasing me all day; could barely focus on anything but you.” he questions while kissing down to your jaw, his deep voice growing airy. “gettin’ all dirty in that graveyard, talkin’ all sweet to that family. why don’t you talk to me like that?” he asked teasingly, helping you slip out of your shirt.
“because of shit like this,” you deadpanned, earning a tap to your ass and dean’s hand slipping into the back pocket of your jeans for a quick squeeze. “you’re such a dog,” you huffed, but all your complaints died on your tongue when he unclipped your bra and began palming at your tits.
“whew, missed these girls alll day... think they missed me, too?” he asked, completely ignoring your insult with a breathless laugh leaving his mouth. he fondled your breast diligently, letting his tongue lick over each bud with a wolfish grin.
you rolled your eyes at him, but that didn’t stop the small smile that came on your lips. “maybe just a little.” you shuddered, fingers trailing up the back of his neck and lacing in his hair. “god, dean..” you whisper, “don’t tease me, asshole.” you tugged onto his hair slightly, which earned you a deep grunt.
he shook his head, his hands tracing down to the button of your jeans, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he moved. “shhh, let me take my time with you, pretty,” he told you. “lift your hips f’me.” his command sent a small shiver down your spine, and there was no room for protest in his words.
you did as he said, letting him help you shimmy off your jeans to your ankles. once they were off, you quickly got to work, taking off his shirt, eagerly letting your hands roam over his sweaty chest while you both kissed.
baby’s windows were steaming up, both of you breathing heavily as you bumped and grounded against each other. dean’s hands never stopped touching you, his callouses roughly pressing against every curve of your body, making him antsy.
he lets you unbutton his own jeans, zipping them down and raising his hips to tug them off. it was all so uncoordinated, so hot in the now stuffy chevy. the noises that left your mouths were nothing short of obscene, and you guys haven’t even fucked yet. but that’s how it always is with dean.
his fingers trailed along the hem of your underwear teasingly, occasionally dipping into your inner thighs but never quite touching where you needed him the most. “dean..” you warned against his lips. but it held no threat because of the whine that followed when he grazed over your clothed clit.
he rolled his eyes with nothing short of sass. “patience, pretty girl,” he breathed, his large hand finally entering your underwear. he huffed out a laugh at how humid it was down there, swiping a finger through your folds. you couldn’t help but gasp at the contact, sensitive from all the foreplay.
“so fucking wet… this all for me, sweetheart?” he asked, a cheeky grin never leaving his face. He knew the answer, but he wanted–no, needed–to hear you say it. because who is dean winchester without his enormous ego?
“yes, dean. god–hurry up!” you blurted out through pants, gripping onto his shoulders as two of his fingers circled your clit.
“m’getting there…” he murmured, his pointer and ring fingers tracing around your hole before dipping in. they pumped ever so slowly, curling against your walls. breathless whines and moans left your lips; it felt so good, yet his pace was driving you crazy.
“d-dean!” you gasped at a particular motion, nails digging into him. you clenched around him, obscene noises leaving your lips as he worked through you. yet once you were on the brink of cumming, he pulled out.
you groaned in disappointment, but it quickly dissipated once his tip nudged at his hole. the sheer stretch had you keening, your lips parted in a silent scream as he bottomed out and stayed put to adjust.
his hands slid up and down your hips and waist, comforting you. “you good?” dean grunted out, trying to regain the self-control to not buck into you.
you nodded, catching your breath. “yeah, just give me a sec.” you murmured, and when the initial wave of discomfort passed, you braced your hands on him and slowly rose before slamming back down.
the sound of skin slapping filled the car; the perverseness of fucking in a motel parking lot had never felt so good.
“j-just like that, beautiful, keep it coming.” dean moaned, throwing his head back against the car seat as he thrusts up to meet your bounces. “c’mon, faster. let me see you work it out, y/n,” he cooed, grasping your hips to move you to his preferred speed.
you gasp at the change in speed, biting your bottom lip to not alert the motel patrons of your defiling. “d-don’t tell me what to do-” you whined out, but it was hard to listen to your own protest as your hips swivelled delicately, the pressure of an orgasm building up quickly.
dean clicked his tongue, sending a sharp slap to your ass. “don’t overthink this, j-just keep moaning for me, sweeheart. no need for back talk when you’re enjoying this too much.” if you saw his smirk, you’d probably slap him, but with your head thrown back and your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, that thought didn’t even pass your mind.
“dean, m’close. please, oh god.” your thighs trembled, and dean quickly got the memo and took over. he controlled your hips, bouncing you in tandem with his rapid thrust. his teeth were gritted together in focus, and the occasional groan slipped out that harmonized sloppily with your moans.
he whispered sweet nothings to you, sentences that sounded like “that’s it, baby,” and maybe “m’right there with you; let go. i-i got you.” but the white-hot pleasure coursing through you made it hard to distinguish what he said.
a symphony of moans signaled your release, and neither of you seemed to care about the sleeping people in their rooms. his cum filled as you clenched uncontrollably around him, and you swore you heard a whimper leave his mouth, but that’d be a conversation for another day.
as your breathing slowed, you finally got to look at your surroundings. the windows were foggy with at least half a handprint on them, there was an uncomfortable amount of sweat dripping down on you, and a sudden light flickering on from a motel room made your cheeks heat up when you realized how loud you both were.
“c’mon,” you mumbled, “sam is waiting on us; food is probably already stale.” you panted, still occasionally clamping down on dean, who hissed at the feeling.
“aww, but i wanted to go again. sam is a big boy; he can wait.” dean pouted playfully, causing you to scrunch your nose.
“okay, okay! no fucking. fine. but, how about i just lay you back and–”
“dean!”
“i’m trying to compromise!”