CONTENT: violence (hunting), slow burn sorryy, SMUT, only one bed~ enemies to lovers (kinda), unprotected p in v (encase before you embrace), hate sex, Dean calls reader "princess" mockingly, manhandling, slapping, spanking, big dick!Dean has all the audacity, dirty talk, degradation, choking, cum eating, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, squirting
word count: 4.7k
✧──────✧
To say you were unhappy to be working with Dean Winchester would be putting it lightly. A massive understatement, in fact. But, as luck would have it, you needed backup on a vamp case; and when you called Bobby Singer for help, it turned out that Dean was the only hunter nearby.
Your jaw set uncomfortably as you dialed his number and held the phone to your ear. Asking for help from anyone was hard, but from this man? Practically your mortal enemy? A feeling of shame, or maybe embarrassment, crept into your stomach as you listened to the phone ring.
He's probably just watching it ring, you thought cynically. Who's to say he would pick up at all? Maybe he won't, you hoped.
There was a laundry list of reasons why Dean was the last person you'd want to work with on a case. He was reckless, had no respect for plans, and tended to go in guns blazing without regard for his own life, which meant that you would constantly be saving his ass. And boy, was he a pain in yours.
The cherry on top of the Dean Winchester disaster cake was that he hated your guts. You never really figured out why, but you assumed it was his misogynistic tendency to be completely contrary to any woman he met who didn't fall all over him. God forbid a woman doesn't care about his rugged good looks or roguish bravery!
When he finally picked up, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, dripping with self-righteousness. "Well, well. What do you want?"
You decided it would be best to cut to the chase and just get it over with. "I'm working a case in Nevada," you said calmly. He would not get you riled up. "Vegas. There's a vamp nest, been snatching homeless people. Tunnel dwellers," you added. "Not that it matters. People are people, vamps are vamps."
"What are you tellin' me for?" Dean asked gruffly. He was gonna make you say it. Of fucking course he was, because he just had to hold it over your head.
"Need backup," you said curtly. "There's at least five of them."
"So what you're sayin' is...." The smugness in his voice was unmistakeable.
"I need your help, you dick."
"Oh do you now."
You huffed, already fed up with him. "Bobby says you're the only hunter he knows nearby. Said you're in Flagstaff."
"Maybe I am," he said vaguely. "Bobby should know not to tell you anything about where I am or recommend me as reinforcements for you."
"He didn't want to, but I made him. Are you coming or not?" you said sharply.
I'll be there by nightfall. Don't wait up," he said teasingly and hung up, leaving you to listen to the tone, steaming.
Why does he have to make everything so difficult?
✧──────✧
Rough pounding on the door of your motel room startled you up from your chair at midnight. Dean wasn't even in the room yet, and he was already tormenting you. You went to the door and jerked it open, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel the headache coming on.
"Honey, I'm home," Dean said wickedly. He pushed past you into the room, dropping his duffel bags in the middle of the floor. He dropped into the chair you had just vacated and looked up at you with a shit-eating grin.
"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," you warned him, eyes narrowing.
"Hey, I'm just excited to kill some vamps," he said, jabbing a finger towards you.
"Give it up. We both know you would rather be anywhere else."
"True," he conceded. "But let me just bask in the moment real quick."
You roll your eyes and return to your task, packing up your stuff. "Don't get too comfortable. We can't stay here. I was followed earlier."
"Perfect," Dean said sarcastically. "Of course you did."
You turn on him. "It can happen to anyone."
"Sure," he mocked. "So what's the plan, genius?"
Your face hardened. "We take the fight to them."
"Say no more."
✧──────✧
The vampire's nest was in an abandoned warehouse (real original) that was a few streets away from one of the tunnels that the homeless had set up camp in. Chain link fence, corrugated metal, broken windows, the whole deal. And of course Dean wouldn't wait to make a game plan, sliding open a side door like nothing bad was waiting to jump him. In a vampire nest. At night.
All you could do was follow him, machete at the ready, and hope that the scuffing of his boots on the concrete floor wouldn't alert any vampires to your presence.
Dean ducked down, holding a fist in the air. You hurried behind him and crouched behind a shelf just in time to miss a patrolling vampire rounding the corner. Without missing a beat, Dean jumped out behind it and chopped it at the neck soundlessly. The body fell to the floor. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good.
You crept in the direction the fang had come from, Dean hot on your heels. He was so close you could hear his leather jacket creaking, smell his cologne, feel him practically breathing down your neck. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, then suddenly you hear voices. You stop abruptly in your tracks, causing Dean to bump into you. You elbow him and give him a look.
Peeking around the doorframe, you see what appears to be the vamps' main hangout room. And there were a lot more than five of them, lounging around the walls, circling victims that were hung by their wrists from a beam.
"We can take them," Dean whispered in your ear.
You look at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" you hissed back. You try to count the dark shapes in the next room. "There's at least ten in there. There's only two of us."
"We can do it." Without waiting for a reply, Dean busted down the door and started swinging. You had no choice but to follow as the vampires started coming out of their startled stupor and attacking.
Dean cut down two of them easily, their heads rolling on the floor before they knew what hit them. The rest, however, had time to react.
One of the vampires rushed you, just managing to avoid your blade as you swung it. She snarled and leapt towards you. You slashed her across the chest and she howled, clutching her shirt. You took the opportunity and decapitated her.
Someone grabbed you from behind, claw-like nails scratching your neck as it was forced to the side, baring your skin. You stabbed behind you, blade finding purchase, and used the distraction to cut off the fang's head.
Another vamp rushed you from the front. You swung your blade out in defense, but he just grabbed it and ripped it from your hand. Then, as if they could smell your defenselessness, you were suddenly swarmed, vampires clawing at your skin, your clothes, pulling your hair. Several hard punches landed to your gut and your face and the wind was knocked out of you as you fell to the floor, smacking the side of your head into the concrete. You yelped in pain and shock.
A boot pressed into the side of your neck and your vision was suddenly obscured by a heavy-set vampire bearing down on you, grinning. "Not so tough now without your little sword," he sneered, fangs descending. His mouth was smeared with blood and you could smell the tang of iron on his breath. You struggled to breathe as the pressure on your neck increased, your vision getting spotty.
Great, this is how I die....
As if in the distance, you heard Dean shout. The looming face of the vamp was promptly detached from its body, hitting the floor by your head. His body fell on top of yours, his gross bloody neck stump right in your view. The boot left your neck and charged in the direction of Dean's voice.
You struggled to free yourself from beneath the former vamp, ears ringing from your near-suffocation experience. You could hear the ensuing scuffle, all grunts and wet slices and heavy footfalls, but you had no idea who was winning.
Then, it was silent.
You held your breath instinctively, listening to a lone pair of footsteps approaching you. You found yourself realizing for the first time that you hoped Dean was coming. Better than the alternative.
Sure enough, Dean's hunt-beaten face appeared above you, screwed up with effort as he pushed the large vamp's body off of you. You sat up quickly, surveying the carnage, slapping away the extended helping hand. The shock of your near death experience wore off quickly, but the adrenaline from the fight did not, so your energy turned towards Dean.
"What the fuck, Dean?" you yelled, rising to your feet, wincing from the pain in your sides.
"What do you mean what the fuck?" he returned angrily. "I just saved your goddamn life!"
"After you endangered it!" you shoved him, scowling furiously. "Ten to two are not good odds! We could have fucking died! I almost did!"
"Hazards of the job, sweetheart!"
"There's hazards, and then there's suicide," you reply, fuming.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't have to thank me."
"I won't." You shoved him out of your way and made for the door. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."
"Not so fast, princess," Dean called after you. "Hunt's not over."
You froze in your tracks. "What."
"I didn't get all of 'em." You whirled around to face Dean, who was looking uncharacteristically sheepish.
Your voice was dangerously quiet. "What do you mean you didn't get all of them?"
He made an attempt at a self-confident grin. "They saw me ganking their buddies like nobody's business, turned tail and ran. I was more concerned about saving your life to chase."
You smirked tauntingly. "Oh, you cared about my life?"
Dean just shrugged. "Couldn't just leave you there."
"Whatever." You started walking to the entrance again. "Since you let some get away, I say we get a night's sleep. They'll probably be expecting us to come after them, so they won't hunt again tonight. We can pick up the trail in the morning."
✧──────✧
"What do you mean you only have one room left?" Dean asked angrily, slamming his hands down on the motel counter.
The clerk looked at him blankly. "Just what I said."
You were at the cheapest motel you could find in the city that was built on tourism. You and Dean were both short on cash, so it seemed like the best option. It was this or take shelter with the junkies in the tunnels.
"I'm not spending the night in the same room as her!"
You hit his shoulder. "Hey!"
"Like you don't feel the same," Dean said exasperatedly, digging out his wallet. "Next cheapest is still too expensive. I'm basically broke," he whined, rifling through his meager collection of bills.
"What happened to all your credit cards, Mr. Fraud?" you sneered.
Dean glared at you. You glared back. After a few moments, the clerk cleared his throat.
"So, do you want the room or not?"
✧──────✧
You dropped your bags just inside the door of the room. "You're fucking kidding me."
Dean pushed past you. "What- oh. Oh my goddd." He ran his hand down his face tiredly.
Staring you in the face was the decidedly lumpy surface of a double bed. One. That fucking clerk could've warned you.
You and Dean slowly look at each other, then you're making a mad dash to claim the bed, shoving each other out of the way, kicking, tackling, until you both lay tangled on the floor, still not in the bed. You had his arm pinned behind his back, but he was pinning you to the floor with his weight.
You jerked on his arm, panting, and he grunted painfully, digging his knee into your side.
"Say.. uncle," you gritted out.
"You first!" Dean rasped.
"No!"
You laid there for a few more seconds, then, almost as if it was painful, Dean asked, "Should we- call it a draw?"
You rolled your eyes and released him. He rolled off of you, getting to his feet. He didn't help you up, of course.
"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said spitefully.
"Well, neither am I." Your eyes narrowed.
✧──────✧
You laid on the bed stiffly, positioned all the way at the edge of the mattress, as far away from Dean as possible. He was doing the same, and the blanket was pulled taut between you as you wordlessly battled over it.
You were steaming. You should have known that everything would go to shit if you called on him. He completely ruined what should have been a one-hour job, endangering your life and letting a few vamps go. He did, technically, save your life though. You were grateful, but you wouldn't tell him that in a million years.
Adrenaline from the hunt and your constant fighting with Dean coursed through your veins, keeping every sense on high alert. Every tug of the sheets from Dean lit a fire under your skin. His weight behind you on the bed filled you with a painful awareness of how touch-starved you truly were. As much as you tried to suppress it, tension began building in your core.
You shifted uncomfortably, squeezing your thighs together. "Ugh," you let out before you could stop yourself.
"Shut up," Dean grumbled through the darkness.
The sound of his voice, rough with tiredness, intensified how extremely horny you felt. You felt your underwear getting damp in spite of your hate for the man.
"God dammit," you said frustratedly, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.
"What?" Dean said, throwing the covers back and sitting up too. "Why can't you just let me fucking sleep?"
"Nothing," you snapped, taking a swig from your water bottle. Hydrating would calm you down, surely.
"Yeah, right," he snapped back. "What the fuck is wrong?"
"I'm really fucking horny, Christ!" you blurt, whirling on him.
"If I fuck you, will you stop bitchin'?" Dean demanded, fire and a deadly seriousness in his eyes.
You opened and closed your mouth, stunned.
He just smirked at you. "Is that what it takes to shut you up?"
You stared at him. "Are you serious?"
"You want me so bad, huh." He moved across the bed and settled right behind you, his face in your neck, inches away from your own.
"Shut up," you say, flustered, still trying to keep some semblance of control. But you couldn't deny the arousal pooling in your gut.
"Say the word," Dean said smoothly, breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.
"Fuck," you whispered, cursing what you're about to do. You turned your head and smashed your lips to his.
Dean responded immediately, pulling you backwards and into his lap. He bit at your lips, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You made an indignant sound, battling him for dominance, teeth clashing in a messy display of pure desire.
Your lips only parted to rip off each other's shirts. You dug your fingernails into Dean's bare shoulders as hard as you could, trying to elicit some kind of reaction from him, which came in the form of a deep groan into your mouth. He broke away, panting, and flung you onto your back on the mattress.
Leering down at you, he placed himself between your legs. "That's how you wanna play, huh princess?"
He yanked your leg up by the knee and slapped the back of your thigh. An involuntary moan escaped your mouth, and Dean chuckled darkly. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
"Just shut up and fuck me," you whined, hitting his side with your foot.
"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Bad girls don't get what they want."
You sat up and came nose to nose with him. "If you think for one second that I am going to sit here and play submissive for you-"
Dean laced his fingers through the back of your hair and sharply tugged your head back. You moaned in response. A smile slowly grew over his face and he let go abruptly and shoved you back down. Your back barely hit the mattress before he was yanking off your sleep shorts and underwear in one go, tossing them to the far reaches of the room. You gasped as the cool air from the room hit your core, driving home the fact that you were now completely exposed to him.
"Aw, already so wet for me," Dean jeered, running a finger up your slit roughly. You flinched away from the sudden contact, heat spreading to your face.
"Don't flatter yourself," you gasped as he shoved a finger inside you, curling it vigorously, relishing the wet sounds your pussy produced.
Dean palmed himself through his pajama pants, groaning. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he added a second finger inside you, scissoring you open. At least he has the decency to prepare me, you thought.
He yanked his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a quick slap, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling.
"Don't whine," Dean said roughly, getting off the bed and kicking off his pants and boxers. You looked down, unable to help yourself.
You saw where he got all his confidence from. He was big. You practically quivered with anticipation. You loved a good stretch, and you liked it rough, and this was about to be both.
"Like what you see?" Dean mocked, shaking his cock.
"Looks like maybe your confidence isn't completely unwarranted," you admitted dryly. You could feel your combative spirit giving way to lust, but you weren't giving up that easily.
He winked, grabbed your ankles and jerked you to the edge of the bed, your thighs around his waist, your hair fanned out on the blanket behind your head. Dean took hold of your calves and pressed your knees up by your face, leaning over you and pinning you down with his weight again. Only this time, it was way hotter.
"Gonna be good for me?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.
"In your fucking dreams," you spat.
In one fluid motion, he backed off of you, grabbed you by the waist, and spun you onto your stomach. You squeaked as a heavy hand landed on your ass, much harder than he hit before.
You used your feet, barely touching the floor, to push yourself back towards him, hoping he would get the point and just fuck you already without you having to ask him again.
"So fucking needy," he murmured in your ear. "Use your words, princess."
"Fuck you," you moaned, feeling his cock jerk against your leg.
"Mmm, that's not right," Dean warned, fingers digging into your hips.
You grit your teeth. "Fuck me."
Dean splayed his fingers over your ass cheeks, spreading you open for him, and thrust into you roughly, filling you in one go.
You gasped, feeling his cock throb inside you as your pussy complained against the intrusion and desperately tried to adjust to his size. He groaned as you clenched around him, pulling out slowly and slamming back in.
"Dean," you gasped out. "Don't be such a fucking tease."
"I'll do whatever the fuck I want, princess," Dean growled, his thrusts becoming faster. "You asked for this."
"Technically- you offered," you corrected, eyes screwing shut at the pleasure building inside you with each thrust.
"God, shut- up," Dean griped, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that hit just right, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from you.
He just grunted, hips colliding against you, now just chasing his own high. You pressed your face into the bed, clutching the blanket with both fists, fortifying yourself against Dean's relentless pace. His fingers pressed deeply into your hips, carving out a place for him, letting you know you wouldn't be coming away from this encounter unbruised.
"God, you're so fucking tight," Dean rasped, slapping your ass. You moaned in response, unable to think of a witty retort. "Bet it's been a long time since you were fucked, huh?"
When you didn't reply, he slapped your ass again, on the other side, sending fireworks through your core.
"Bet that's why you're so desperate for me," he groaned. "Haven't gotten laid in a while. Bet that's why you're such a bitch, too," he added snarkily.
"Oh, fuck off," you mumble into the mattress.
Dean pulls out, much to your chagrin, turning you onto your back again. "If you want," he said, eyes glimmering with mischief.
You pout and whine, hooking your feet around his waist and trying to pull him back. You are rewarded with a sharp slap to your pussy. You cry out from the stimulation.
"Don't whine," he growled, pushing into you again on the last word.
"Sorry," you whisper in spite of yourself, gripping onto his arms as he cages you in with his body.
"What was that?" Dean said, grinning wickedly and thrusting into you sharply.
"Fuck-" you moaned instead, refusing to cooperate.
He wraps his hand around your throat loosely, putting slight pressure just under your jaw. Your eyes widen as he slowly increases the pressure, jeering down at you, still slamming into you at an incredible pace. Your body starts to become overwhelmed with all the sensory input and your core tightens.
You know Dean felt it, because he grimaced. "Gonna come, you little slut?" he taunted, reaching down with his free hand to rub harshly at your clit. A low whine released from the back of your throat.
His grip tightened around your neck to see your reaction. You gasped, straining to get a full breath in, your pussy clenching hard around his cock.
"Such a fucking slut that you're gonna come from being choked out," Dean said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy.
"Fuck- Dean," you choke out, both hands wrapped around his wrist. He eased up on the pressure some (he didn't want to kill you) and your hands moved desperately up his arm, gripping him tightly.
Dean was getting close, you could tell, but the question remained: would he come before you? And if he did, would he still take care of you? Somehow you doubted it. The self-absorbed jackass was probably going to cum inside you and fall asleep, like almost every other man you'd slept with.
Suddenly Dean lurched forward, shoving his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavily in your ear. You clenched in surprise (and also because a man getting desperate was one of the hottest things on the planet).
Dean groaned deeply in response and bit down on your shoulder, hard. You cried out, half from pain and half from the surprising pleasure it sent roaring through you, causing your cunt to squeeze down on him tightly. He practically whimpered, detaching from your skin and pulling out, pumping himself a few times before spilling onto your stomach with a moan.
He looked down at the mess he'd made of you, dragging his fingers through his cum. Then he brought those fingers up to your mouth and pressed them against your lips. "Open."
You scowl at him, once again determined to be contrary.
Dean glared back. "Open, or you don't get to come," he said harshly, forcing his fingers between your lips and teeth.
So he was planning to take care of you. Your neediness returned in full force, and you opened your mouth to allow him to shove his fingers deep into your mouth. You gagged as his fingertips hit the back of your throat, the taste of his cum filling your mouth. He pressed down on your tongue and you dutifully sucked on his fingers as he smirked down at the sight.
"Good little slut," Dean said nastily, obviously feeling proud of himself. He started to pull his fingers out and you closed your teeth, scraping his skin as he did. He slapped your cheek lazily once his hand was free. "Swallow it."
You glared, but did as you were told, sticking out your tongue to prove it.
Dean grinned. "Ready for your reward, princess?"
You moaned needily, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up towards him.
"Such a fucking whore," he chastised, bringing his hand to your clit and stroking around it lazily. A pang of arousal shoots through you as you quickly approach the edge again. All thoughts of defiance go out the window as you grind against his hand.
"Please," you whimper, squirming under his touch.
"Since you asked so nicely," Dean mocked. He stuffed your pussy with three fingers at once, thrusting and curling them inside you. "Fuckin' dripping, princess."
He brought his other hand to your clit, thumbing it in figure eights in time with his fingers. You gasped as your core tightened. His fingers were bringing you so close to the brink and just keeping you there, never increasing the pressure just enough to push you over.
"Fuuuck," you moaned, panting. "Please, Dean! I need- I need-"
"You need what?" he teased. He twisted his fingers up to your g-spot, simultaneously ceasing his movements on your clit to press down on it hard.
"Oh, God!" you cried out, almost hyperventilating. The feeling of your orgasm building up was almost too much to bear. A dry sob wracked your body.
Dean nipped at your chest, gazing up at your contorted face with eyes so innocent looking you could've sworn, for a moment, that this was not a man you hated with your entire being, who was not currently doing the most sinful things to you with his hands.
You whimpered pathetically. "Please," you said in a small voice. "I need to come so bad." Your face flushed with shame as you finally admit what he's done to you, both with your words and body.
"All you had to do was ask," Dean said, sickly sweet. His hands sparked into motion again, redoubling their efforts. You let out a strangled scream as you're brought right back to the precipice, only this time, surely, he's going to let you?
It was like a pot boiling over, overwhelming heat spreading from your core out through your stomach, making your legs shake and your abs tighten. You made another strangled, desperate noise as you grinded down on his hand.
"That's it, princess, fuck yourself on my fingers," Dean goaded.
You struggled to catch your breath, eyes wide. Your face was hot and wet, and you realized numbly that tears were streaming down your face, running into your hair. He started to take his hands away, but your hands chased them, seizing them and bringing them back to your core.
Dean seemed surprised, but more than willing to fuck you past the point of no return. "Fuck, you just can't get enough, huh," he said, sounding mildly impressed. Your body shook as he all but stilled his fingers inside you, just rubbing your clit slowly until it became too much to bear and you pushed him off.
You lay there panting quietly, your body shivering from the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you'd had in a while. For once, it seemed like Dean didn't know what to say.
You closed your eyes for a moment, then suddenly felt his hand on your clit again, rubbing vigorously. Your eyes flew open and you looked down to see Dean's face set in determination. You clutched at his wrist, trying weakly to get him away, knees trying to close around him, but it didn't take long for you to cum again with a shriek, heels digging into the mattress to push yourself away. Your cunt pulsed around nothing, and you felt a gush of arousal leave you. Dean looked delighted.
"I fucking knew it," he said triumphantly, holding up his hand to survey the mess.
"What?" you asked feebly as another shiver ran through your body.
"Knew you'd be so touch-starved I could get you to squirt," Dean explained smugly. He licked some of your arousal off his hand.
You threw your head back onto the bed exasperatedly. "God, I hate you."
"Could've fooled me," he returned, displaying his hand to you and smirking.