There’s a bit of schmoop in this chapter and I’m not even sorry.

This is for @cracksinthewalls

The usual suspects: @glassjacket @boondoctorwho  @fatestemptress @adoptdontshoppets @pisces-cutie @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants  @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @tumbler-tidbits  @akshi8278 @blackcherrywhiskey @barbellsareswell180 @closetspngirl @kdfrqqg @thoughtsoftheantagonist 

---

“That’s my girl,” Dean says with a quiet chuckle, sucking her lips between his own. “Knew ya had it in you.”

Donna trails a hand down over his chest and belly before twisting her wrist and sliding that hand between his legs with a coy smile, cupping his full erection and squeezing lightly. “I have condoms.”

Dean nods and looks her in the eye. He smiles soft and warm, and Donna’s reminded why she’s here – with him.

He kisses her and lets his hands explore her body again. “Where at?” he asks, one hand in her hair and the other tracing the crease where her ass meets the top of her thigh.

“Nightstand drawer,” Donna answers, nodding her head backward.

Dean’s eyes flare with mischief. He rolls away from her long enough to get rid of his boxers then rolls back toward her and pushes her to her back. “Can’t wait to feel you.” He knees her thighs open and rises to kneeling, reaching for the nightstand and easily finding a condom in the well-organized drawer.

“Any requests, Sheriff?” Dean asks, popping a literal tongue into his literal cheek as he sits back on his feet as he opens the foil packet.

Donna grins, pushes her fingers up into her hair and watches Dean’s eyes light with the movement of her breasts. “Other than wanting you to fuck me?” she asks, and Dean groans again, letting out a low chuckle as he rolls the condom over his hard length. “Or d’you want me to be more specific?” Donna teases, one hand dancing from her hair to a breast. She hisses as she pulls the nipple tight.

“Sweetheart.” Dean bites his lip then lets it drag slowly through his teeth as he drops onto one hand, hovers over her, grabs himself at the base of his cock to guide the tip through her slit. “I’m gonna need you to be as specific as possible.”

Donna huffs a quiet laugh. “I like this,” she says, letting her hands rest against his chest, raises her open thighs around his hips. “I like you over me.” Then her smile turns to a smirk. “Now I want you inside me.”

Dean nods, guides himself more pointedly, rubs circles around her opening with the tip. “Here?” he asks, spreading her wetness.

Donna breathes heavy and tilts her hips. “Yeah, right there,” she answers with a nod. “Right now.” She drops one hand to one of his hips and pulls.

Dean chuckles again before letting himself push inside her – ever so slowly. “Like this?” he asks, quiet and kissing her lips.

“More,” Donna whispers, urging his hips with both hands now. “More.”

He keeps moving slow, and she feels the hot stretch, how hard he is, the curve of his cock helping the fat head to rub the most sensitive spot inside her. “So good,” he says, nuzzling into her neck once he’s all the way inside.

He rests his weight on his forearms and starts to grind against her. Donna keeps her hands on the luscious curve of his back and tilts her pelvis to feel that deep rub. “Dean, that’s… hooo .”

“Yeah,” he says, kissing her neck and jaw, rocking against her. “I want you to come again before I do, so you gotta tell me how it feels – tell me what’s good.”

Donna smiles. “I’m not gonna come again, Dean, so just…” She kisses him through her smile. “This feels good, just do what you need.”

Dean’s brow furrows. “You serious right now?” he swivels his hips a little more intently, and Donna moans in surprise. “You’re right there, D.” He grinds down on her hard before pulling out to lightly pump against that spot. Donna whines, and he continues with those shallow, teasing thrusts.

Donna’s high-pitched breath shakes. “Dean, my…” She gasps when he hits it harder.

“Right here, right?” he asks, nipping at her jaw. “This spot?” He takes a mouth full of the meat of her shoulder, uses his teeth. “Shit,” he whispers against her skin. “You’re squeezin’ my cock.” Then his breath is hot in her ear again. “You’re gonna come so hard.” He pulls at the shell of her ear with his teeth with a hiss. “Do it,” he whispers.

Donna’s back arches and she shouts out loud as she comes again. It’s the kind of orgasm that happens when she’s alone with her romance novels and that one really big, curved dildo. She isn’t even sure the sounds coming out of her mouth at full volume are English.

Not that it matters because Dean’s back on his knees with her legs over his shoulders and he’s hammering into her, hammering her through her climax and drawing it out to spike and flutter.

She’s not going to be able to walk tomorrow without some pretty deep reminders of tonight.

Dean collapses to brace over her, panting, drained and smiling. They’re both sweat-slick and high, and Donna hooks her arms around his neck. “Well,” she sighs. “That was somethin’ else.” Dean grins wide, kisses her lips and her chin, trails kisses over her jaw and throat.

“That was a good somethin’ else,” Dean says.

When he rolls away and discards of the condom, they both groan. Donna smoothes a hand over his damp skin, admiring the dips and planes as his muscles twist under the flesh. When he shifts to face her again, they fall into place naturally as if they’ve cuddled post-coital a million times before.

“Tired?” he asks, arms holding her close and hands in her hair, lips brushing her forehead.

Donna sighs in satisfaction and nods. “Happily,” she answers, burrowing her head against his chest and closing her eyes.

Tonight was the thing of hopes and dreams. She can handle whatever happens tomorrow, so she decides to sleep blissfully in Dean’s arms.

---

Donna wakes to early sunlight and the smell of coffee – and Dean shuffling quietly into her room with two steaming mugs. He’s in his boxers and t-shirt and his hair is more of a mess than usual, but the smile on his face has her smiling right back.

“Found the Cuisinart, huh?” Donna says, sleepy and raspy, accepting the mug Dean’s extended to her and holding the sheet to her breast. She hasn’t even had time to think about the night before, about whether she feels awkward or whether he’s regretting it.

“Gotta have my coffee,” he says, letting his eyes slowly glide over her bare skin. When he meets her gaze again, he winks before turning to the French doors overlooking the river path. “Even better view in the mornin’.”

The double-entendre, as Dean is wont to use, is not lost on her, and her body further wakes to a rush of blood and heat to the surface of her skin. She sits upright and wraps herself as best she can in the rumpled covers. She’s as sore as she knew she would be, and she likes it – a lot.

Donna quietly sips the hot brew and watches Dean in profile. The morning light twinkling through his jade eyes makes her heart race and skip. “Can sit outside if ya want,” she offers.

Dean purses his lips and nods his head then looks over his shoulder at her, dropping and dragging his gaze to places he’d touched and licked the night before. “Might wanna put somethin’ on first,” he says, a sleepy but playful grin in full effect. “Maybe that robe.”

“Yeah,” Donna replies with a wry smile as she sets her coffee aside. “Don’t wanna scare the poop outta my neighbors.” She reaches for the robe she’d discarded the night before and which Dean seems to have replaced at the foot of her bed.

Dean scoffs as he twists the knob on one of the doors to walk out onto the balcony. “’Scared’ isn’t the emotion I’d say is what that rack of yours inspires.”

Donna blushes full, head to toe at his words. She realizes that she probably needs to get used to that if this is going to be anything more than a one-night thing.

Once she’s adequately covered with coffee in hand, she joins Dean on the balcony, settling next to him on the love seat. He’s propped his bare feet up on the small wrought iron table that serves as a coffee table and he seems as comfortable as anyone could ever be there, including herself.

Donna doesn’t want to ruin the moment, and what she’s about to do most definitely would have with anyone else in her past, but not with Dean. She takes a deep breath and turns to look at him, twists in her spot into an upright pigeon pose to get a good look at him. She hasn’t said a word before he mirrors her actions with a small smile.

“Is it time for the talk?” he asks, taking a long sip of his cooling coffee.

“Prob’ly should, doncha think?” Donna says, her fingers wrapped comfortingly around her mug. The warmth and solidity give her strength.

Dean nods thoughtfully. “You wanna go first?” he asks, and Donna shrugs. Dean seems surprised by her reluctance, but he doesn’t push. “Okay, I’ll go.”

He sets his coffee on the table then pitches forward, draping one arm across the back of the wide seat and resting his other fingertips on Donna’s ankle, where her foot’s tucked into her extended thigh.

“I don’t need to tell you how great last night was – we were both there,” he starts and Donna blushes again, looking down into the dark pool of her mostly untouched coffee. “And I don’t need to say that we live more than eight hours’ drive from each other.” He pauses and waits for her guarded eyes to meet his.

Donna watches as Dean’s expression softens from playful and flirty to something more serious. Her stomach flips, and she swallows thick.

Here it comes…

“What I do need to say is that I don’t want that to be it for you and me.” Donna blinks and exhales long and quiet. Dean ducks his head to catch her wandering gaze. “We’re both hunters, and our shit is so fucked up with or without each other, D.”

She nods, her mind beginning to spiral. “I know it,” she answers. “Doug- I mean the good Doug-”

“Exactly,” Dean says, dropping his hand from the back of the couch to her thigh. “He was a good guy, but this shit is too much.” His palm is warm and calming. “I’ve had similar experiences – it sucks.”

Donna’s still nodding when she realizes that Dean’s taking the mug out of her hands and setting it beside his own. Then he’s tilting her chin up with the curve of his index finger. “So?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “Whaddaya say?”

She grins broad and bright before leaning into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissing him deep and long. When she breaks the kiss, she rests her forehead against his. “We make a good team,” she says. “I say we give it a shot.”

When Dean pulls her into his lap, pushes his hands inside her robe, and kisses her wet and lush, she realizes that her neighbors will just have to get used to blushing as well.

to be continued…