Summary: OFC Vanessa hates weddings until she meets a handsome stranger.
Pairing: Dean x OFC
Words: 9629
Warnings: age difference, ass play, finger sucking, finger feeding, female ejaculation, NSFW
A/N: Fun fact: In Hawaii, peridot symbolizes the tears of Pele, the volcano goddess of fire who controls the flow of lava.
“Hair of the Dog” is for @glassjacket my soulmate.
GJ’s summary of how Dean’s Craig’s List ad would read if he were a professional wedding crasher:
“Have a wedding you really don’t wanna fucking go to? Want to piss some people off and you don’t give a shit? Hi, I’m Dean. I’m 36, 6’2”, blond hair, green eyes. I don’t do suits. I do do whiskey. I enjoy being a dick, but not to you, just to people who deserve it. I’ll show up, cause a scandal, and make sure everyone is talking about it months after the bouquet has faded. Call now. Rates are negotiable. If you have a friend, I can talk my baby bro into a double date.”
xox: @glassjacket @boondoctorwho @cracksinthewalls @naughtygirlsarebest @fatestemptress @adoptdontshoppets @pisces-cutie@dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants
They don’t wait for the first dance, they don’t wait for the bride and groom to cut the cake. As soon as they’re finished eating, Vanessa and Dean push away from the table, bidding their tablemates the most inadequate of goodnights and Vanessa drags him toward the exit.
“Van, wait up,” a newly familiar female voice calls from behind them. When Vanessa turns she sees one of the bridesmaids hurrying to catch up with her.
“Which floor,” Dean asks, lightly running his knuckles over her bare arm. “I’ll get the elevator.” He doesn’t want to waste time and he doesn’t want to hear what the other woman has to say.
“Ten,” Vanessa answers, shivering from his touch and accepting his jacket when he offers it. “I’ll only be a second.” She wraps the black denim around her shoulders, and Dean boops her nose with a grin before heading to the elevator bank.
Vanessa turns to the bridesmaid. “What’s up, Emma?” She asks.
Emma watches Dean walk away then quietly speaks. “Hey, so – that guy,” she starts, and Vanessa rolls her eyes. “No, listen,” Emma reaches for Vanessa’s hand. “Every male-attracted person in this room is green with envy right now and silently cheering you on.” Emma smiles warmly and Vanessa relaxes. “I just wanna make sure you’re safe.”
Vanessa blinks. “Well… thanks.” It really hadn’t occurred to her that she may be doing something unsafe. Dean exuded a sense of security from the moment she entered his sphere. “But, I mean, he’s not scary or anything.”
Emma smiles and nods. “Well, he’s pretty aggressive,” she says pointedly. “And big.” They both sigh. “But, I definitely trust your judgment, I just want you to know that I’m right next door in 1005.” She squeezes Vanessa’s hand in her before releasing her. “So if you need anything, lemme know. And have fun.” She winks before turning and heading back to the wedding party table.
Vanessa joins Dean just as the elevator doors open. “Everything okay?” He mutters, placing a kiss to the top of her head as he ushers her inside the elevator car. He wonders if the little show they put on pushed things too far.
“Everything’s great,” Vanessa says, and when the doors close and they’re alone, she turns into him and pulls him down for a kiss. She feels him relax in a way he hasn’t since she met him. He rests his hands on her hips and slowly pushes his tongue into her mouth.
She cards her fingers through his hair and moans into the deep, languorous kiss. Turns out that mouth of his can do all the things. He pulls back slightly and brushes his full, parted lips over hers before pulling her top lip between his then diving back in deep. She’s wet again, just from his mouth on hers but she really thinks that she could do nothing else all night and this would be enough.
When the elevator dings, signaling they’ve reached their destination, Vanessa reluctantly pulls away from Dean’s lips. His eyes are still closed as he chases her mouth with his, but she’s persistent in her exit from the car. “C’mon,” she coaxes him. “Wait’ll you see the bed,” she says with a giggle and Dean grins lazily, following her, hand in hand.
They get inside her room and Dean’s hands are on her again and he’s kissing her. She shakes his jacket from her frame and pushes his work shirt from his shoulders then slides her hands up under his t-shirt. He sighs into her mouth and lifts her until her legs are wrapped around his waist.
She left a bedside lamp on and the curtains open, so the light in the room is low and the moonlight filters through the sheers. Dean walks them to the bed, the blue light of the moon loving the curves of his face as he kisses her like it’s the main event, but she knows better – shit’s about to get real.
Dean settles her on the side of the bed before standing and quickly pulling his black t-shirt over his head and discarding it. He has a large tattoo on his left pec; it’s kind of intense looking and her stomach flips. Every newly revealed dimension of this man has Vanessa on the edge of her seat. Maybe she should be cautious like Emma warned, but her gut tells her she doesn’t need to be afraid of him.
Before she can take in the dips and curves of his torso, he’s at her feet, removing her shoes. He tosses them over his shoulders and runs his hands up under her skirt, kneeling upright between her legs, kissing her again and sliding his fingers over the smooth skin of her hips. She rests her hands on his bare shoulders and lets him kiss her. When she starts to move her hands to explore him, she can feel scars.
“What’s this?” She whispers, cupping her hand over the tattoo as her other hand wanders the hard planes of his body, cataloging the long-healed damage to his otherwise perfect skin. That sense of danger lingers in the back of her mind, but his eyes soothe any fear she might have.
Dean tucks his chin into his chest, looking down at her delicate hand over the anti-possession tattoo. For every woman who asks this question – and they all do – he has a different answer. “Kind of a family thing,” he says, tilting his head to press his lips to her neck, licking and nipping the spot before moving down to her collarbones.
She gasps and sighs as his mouth moves and his hands roam. “I didn’t even ask what you do for a living,” she murmurs, as he wraps his hand around one knee and pulls her to the edge of the bed. He laughs at that – more of a chuckle really – it isn’t cruel. “I know, I know…” She laughs too.
Dean pulls back and looks her in the eyes, one of his calloused hands brushes the inside of her thigh before softly pressing his knuckles against where she’s wet. “My brother and I,” he starts, running a fingertip along her slit and her breath shudders. “Run the family business – kinda…” he pushes a finger inside her and she moans. “Private investigators.” He smirks and watches her grin. She closes her eyes and breathes deep, tipping her head back, submitting to the moment, as he pushes another finger inside her.
He doesn’t ask her what she does and she doesn’t tell him – it doesn’t matter. All that matters is sinking into her, forgetting all the bullshit of his life for just one night. She’s perfect, willing and right on the edge, and she doesn’t ask too many questions.
She grips his elbows, trying to pull him into her while lifting and thrusting her hips onto his hand. He gently swipes his thumb across her swollen clit a few times and slowly twists his fingers inside her until he can press his fingers against that spot. When he does, he presses down on her clit with his thumb and rubs and she’s coming, gasping his name.
Dean pulls his fingers out of her to warmly cup her in one hand, pushing the other into the back of her hair, kissing her down and holding her steady. She reaches down to fumble with his belt and he lets her. She pulls the leather from the metal buckle and pops his buttons open one by one. She can feel his heat, and her want for him ramps up that much more.
“God,” she breathes, mimicking the way he’s cupping her, just to feel him.
Dean presses his forehead to hers. “Y’okay?” He asks, and she pulls in a shaky breath and nods. He nods in return, pulling his hand from under her skirt and helping her to her feet.
“Can I undress you?” He asks, holding her hands and eyes with his. The essence of this gaze is a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn from the one in the broom closet. Gone is the craft and guile from earlier in the evening. This look isn’t veiled; it’s open and longing, and she’s stunned by the realness.
“Yes,” she answers, and he kisses her lips before circling behind her, her skin prickling in anticipation.
His hands are on her, ghosting over her skin, outward across her shoulders then down her arms. He pushes her hair over the front of her shoulder and presses a wet kiss to the scripted tattoo on the nape of her neck then peppers smaller kisses and nips down her spine between her shoulder blades. His breath is warm as it caresses her.
When he reaches under her arm to unzip the side of her dress she melts into him, resting her head back on his shoulder and gripping his solid thighs. The dress cascades to the floor, pooling at her bare feet. Dean pops the clasp on her strapless bra and it lands atop the heap of pink chiffon. He doesn’t waste a second before his warm hands cup her breasts, fingers and thumbs lightly pulling on her hardening nipples.
He buries his face in the crook of her neck and she reaches one hand up behind her to grasp the back of his head. She pushes at his open pants with her other hand. “Get these off and get inside me,” she breathes.
She feels him smile against her skin. “Yes, ma’am.” His hands and body leave her and she’s chilled. She turns to see him sitting on the bed, unlacing and removing his boots and socks. He stands and shucks his jeans and boxers to the floor then reaches for her.
“Why don’t you drive,” he says, twisting and twining their fingers and hands and swaying from side to side. In that moment Vanessa feels what he’s giving her. She’s emboldened by his confidence in her and she seizes the moment.
“Okay,” she says, feeling less vulnerable than she should, being naked with a large unfamiliar man in her hotel room. “Lie back, get comfy.”
Dean does as he’s told, sitting then slinking backward on the bed until he settles against the pillows. He reminds her of a cat again – the way he moves, sure of himself and utterly in control of his body in a way that makes her shiver anew.
She climbs onto the big plush bed and crawls over him. He’s so beautiful and Vanessa doesn’t think that word very often when describing such a masculine creature, but it fits him perfectly – from his head to his toes, to the tips of his fingers and his hard, thick cock.
“I still owe you.” Vanessa slides one knee between his legs. “Technically,” she says, wrapping a hand around his length and settling over one meaty thigh. “I owe you three.”
Dean slides a hand up her bare thigh and revels in her slick coating his skin where she sits. “Gonna be a long night, then,” he says, tilting his head.
Vanessa laughs. “Oh, yeah?” She twists her hand around his cock and he rolls his head back with a wide grin. “Why’s that?” He’s leaking precum and she uses her other hand to swirl a finger around his tip to gather it then slides it into her mouth to taste him.
He opens his eyes and looks back at her just in time to watch her finger disappear between her lips, and he groans. “Well,” he breathes. “I like bein’ ahead in my numbers, Vanessa.” His hands are squeezing her thighs in a rhythm she can’t place until she realizes it’s the same rhythm she’s set around his cock.
“Is that a challenge, Dean?” Vanessa grinds her cunt into his thigh, rotating her clit, vaguely wondering if getting herself off counts if she’s using his leg to do it.
“Up to you,” he says, his voice raw and rough – even rougher than usual.
Vanessa scoots back, slicking his thigh with her want and dips her head to lick him. “Mmm,” she moans and she isn’t making it up – he tastes like salt and earth and man. He smells like fire and metal and she’s overloaded by it all, but she wants more. She takes him into her mouth and Dean digs his fingers into the skin of her thighs.
Vanessa slides out of his reach to get a better angle on his cock. She isn’t ready to take him all the way down her throat, yet, and she kind of wants to tease him a little – see how far she can push him.
She swirls her tongue around his thickness, holding him steady at his base, and slides her other hand down under to stroke the rest of him. Dean’s gripping the sheets as he bends the knee of his free leg and lets it fall to the side, opening himself to her. Vanessa takes the hint and slides a finger along the crack of his ass and he hisses.
“Shit,” he whispers, throbbing against her tongue.
She swipes her finger deeper, squeezes his cock hard then slides down onto him until he hits the back of her throat. She pulls off and presses her finger more insistently against his hole and he’s arching off the bed and crying out. He’s still so hard, though, and she’s glad because she really wants him to come in her mouth.
“Don’t come yet,” she says, slowly massaging his tight ring. She’s gauging whether or not to breach him. She can tell that he’ll love it and she’s sure he can take it, but even she’s overstimulated right now. “I want you in my throat when you come the first time.”
Dean’s jaw clenches tightly and he groans loud again. “Then ya better get on my dick, sweetheart, because I ain’t gonna last much longer,” he grits out.
Vanessa’s panting hot breath when she takes him in her mouth again. She works to loosen her jaw and relax her throat and pushes down over him until her airway is closed with the breadth of him, so she’s breathing deep through her nose. She reaches for his hand and drops it on the back of her head before she starts to move.
Dean slips his fingers through her tangled curls. His body wants to fuck into her tight, wet throat but he’s pretty sure she knows exactly what she’s doing.
She swallows and sucks and wraps her tongue around him, and after a few more passes, she pushes the tip of her finger inside him and presses, and he gasps, lifting his hips off the bed and pushing all the way down her throat. When he comes it’s hot and heavy and she’s choking on it.
She can’t swallow it all, as much as she wants to. He’s spilled down her chin and jaw and neck. He’s panting heavily and before she can get up for a washcloth to clean up he hauls her against him and kisses her deep and long. She’s never known a guy who would kiss her with his cum still on her tongue and lips.
Dean rolls her to her back and then rolls himself off the bed. She watches him walk to the bathroom. He walks like his legs are heavy and his dick’s in the way. When he returns, he has a warm, wet washcloth and a hand towel.
“Thanks,” she says, sitting up and reaching for the washcloth.
Dean lays the towel aside and clasps her outreached hand in his. “Let me?” He asks and she blushes like he didn’t just come in her mouth.
She nods and Dean climbs between her legs. “Lay back,” he says, swiping the warm wet cloth over her lips and chin and down her neck. She lies still as he wedges his open knees under her thighs, pitching her hips upward, thoroughly cleaning her and kissing her. He tosses the soiled rag to the floor and hovers over her, hands braced on either side of her chest.
He drops his lips over and over along the thin skin of her throat, remembering how well she took him moments before and he starts to swell between her legs. Her hands are in his hair and running the expanse of his hard, perfectly flawed body and she feels him rubbing against her swollen clit.
“Dean,” Vanessa whispers, lazily rolling her lips in his lap for more friction and burrowing her shoulders into the fluffy pillows as he makes his way to her mouth. “Dean…” She doesn’t know what she’s trying to say. She feels everything at that moment and she doesn’t want to stop. She wants him inside her, but she also just likes feeling him this way.
She’s opened up and exposed to him in a similar way to how he was to her earlier, and the feeling is electric and erotic. She arches her back and he drags his lips and tongue to her breast, circling one with his tongue and gently pulling on the other with thumb and fingers.
“Inside, Dean,” she reaches for his hardening cock and strokes him lightly then squeezes. “Please.”
He lets her grip him and slip him along her slit, and he swells even more, cupping a breast in his palm to gently squeeze and suck. “Are you-” he starts.
“I’m covered,” she says, lining him up with her slick opening. “Please, Dean.”
He nods and drops his hips, pushing inside her slowly and she lifts her feet to hook behind his back, spurring him on. He has the leverage though, especially when he rises to his knees, bringing her hips with him. He loops a forearm under her, holding her in place then splays his big hand over her lower belly, the heel of his hand pressing over her clit, his thrusts are shallow but hard.
“What’re you-” she gasps. “Holy… Dean.” He looks down at her with distilled hunger. She’s never felt anything like it, the intense pressure building in the spot she always thought to be an elusive point of concentration; but it’s filling her full with liquid heat and searing her from the inside.
The combination of his dick bumping and rubbing that spot inside and his big, heavy hand pressing down where they’re connected – she’s losing control of everything. Vanessa starts to see spots in her vision and she tries to remember to breathe. Then she’s exploding, wet and hot and everything fades to black.
When she comes to, Dean’s curled around her back, the pleasant weight of his arm thrown across her waist, and they’re burrowed under the luxury of the hotel covers. He’s turned the TV on, but he doesn’t seem to be paying much attention. Instead, he’s drawing lazy circles on her belly and brushing his lips back and forth against her neck.
Vanessa sighs and nuzzles back into his warmth. “How long was I out?” She asked, her voice cracking from overuse and dehydration. Dean reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand and hands it to her.
“Five minutes, maybe,” he mutters, pulling her earlobe between his lips.
She props herself up on one arm and gulps the water down. When the covers fall away from her skin, Dean traces the curve of her side with a calloused finger, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
When the bottle’s empty, Vanessa lays back in place and thrusts her ass into his groin. He’s incredibly hard and he easily slips between her slick thighs and blessedly up between her wet lips. “Fuck, keep doing that,” Vanessa says.
“Ready for another round already,” Dean says, sliding through the wet, forward and back, a little more insistent than earlier. He lifts her leg at the knee, opening her and tucking it back over his hip and pushes inside her.
Vanessa shivers deep in her core because he’s dragging over that spot inside again. She’s had plenty of orgasms in her life but never one that intense and she’s not sure she can handle another. “Jesus, Dean, what’re you doing to me?” She twines her fingers with the hand that’s holding her open and grips the pillow with her other.
He kisses her neck with a small, quiet laugh. “What d’you want me to do?” He asks, rolling her to her stomach and she doubts this will be any less intense.
“Honestly?” She asks. “Anything you want at this point, I’m just… jelly.”
Dean laughs and settles back on his feet between her legs. He massages her thighs and hips and ass, sliding his thumbs along that sweet, sensitive crease between her ass and upper thigh to run them along her soaking wet slit and up between her ass cheeks.
Vanessa groans. “I’ve never had anyone in my ass, but if you want it you can have it,” she speaks dreamily. “I mean it – anything you want.”
“No,” he says, running his wet hands up her back and digging his thumbs into her shoulders. “Tell me what you want.”
She thinks about his question. She wasn’t lying – anything he did would surely be magnificent – but what she really wants is simple. She wants him hard and deep inside her. “I wanna feel you for days after this.”
Dean nods without her seeing it and drags his hands back down her body, pulling her hips until she’s on her hands and knees. “How many days?” He asks, pushing her knees together with his.
Vanessa’s breath shudders in anticipation. “Oh, I dunno,” her voice is unreasonably strained and high-pitched and she swallows hard. “Six or seven?”
Her thighs are slick with her arousal. Dean pushes a hand between her legs and drags two fingers back through her slit. He’s got one ass cheek gripped and pulled open with one big hand and he’s spreading the wet all over with his fingers. He circles the tight ring with the tip of his middle finger a few times then guides himself inside her cunt.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Dean says, once he’s fully seated inside her. She’s relaxed and really fucking wet, so it wasn’t hard for him to get inside, but she is so full of him. She feels every centimeter of him as he moves back and forth, even the slightest bit of slide. She feels his head bump and brush her back wall and it makes her knees buckle.
“Here,” he presses a hand between her shoulder blades and she lowers, tucking a pillow under her chest to make room for her head to hang comfortably against the mattress.
When he moves again, he’s right back at that spot that made her make such a mess earlier. “Fuck, Dean, you like that spot, huh?”
He laughs, slowly but persistently dragging across that spot and sliding his thumb over her tight asshole. “Well, yeah,” he says. “Don’t you?”
“Well, yeah,” she shakily echoes his sentiment. “But I blacked out and made a goddamn mess last time.” She exhales deeply.
“Hey,” he leans forward, draping himself over her. “I just wanna make you feel good.” He rotates his hips and she can feel him in her gut. “If you don’t want this-”
“I do,” she says, arching her neck to kiss his lips, where they’re so close to hers. “Seven days, Dean. Let’s do this.”
Dean grins then kisses the tip of her nose before kneeling behind her once again. He pulls back and pushes in slow and steady. Vanessa breathes through it, hugging the plush pillow to her chest. He picks up his pace and every stroke against her galvanizes her to ecstasy. Before she knows it, there’s a snap and crackle from inside her, sizzling across her hips and out. She’s definitely coming but she’s never had an orgasm like this before – again – this one’s like a million tiny flutters and they’re everywhere.
“Fuck,” Dean breathes. She’s clenching around him and he thinks that he can’t hold it much longer. He pulls out and rolls her to her back, slides his hands under her legs and lifting, so she’s wide open and her feet are resting on his shoulders. He slams back into her and she’s still coming. She shouts out loud and he keeps hammering into her. “Oh, fuck,” he swears again.
“Yes, Dean,” she breathes, raking her nails across his shoulders, leaving marks behind. “Yes,” she sobs, and she just hopes that Emma is still downstairs.
She feels him spill inside her hot and deep, scorching. He drops his forehead to hers in that endearing way that she’s come to love and then slowly lowers himself to settle between her legs.
He’s still inside her as he kisses her. She runs her hands everywhere she can and drops her feet to the bed, so she’s hugging his hips. They’re so warm like this, entwined and connected, deep and wet. His kisses are slow but deliberate.
“Need anything?” He asks, kissing her jaw and neck. He’s propped on his elbows so he’s not crushing her with his body mass, but she kind of wants that.
She shakes her head and sighs. She’s already pleasantly sore and aching in all the right places and just having him like this is like the cherry on top of the most delicious sundae she’s ever had.
Then she feels him stir inside her and her hips involuntarily thrust up into him. “You’re kidding,” she says, catching his eye.
He looks almost shy for a second. “I don’t kid about this kinda thing,” he says, swiveling his hips and pushing into her. He’s steadily growing inside her and it’s the most erotic feeling she’s ever felt.
“Dean, you’re not real,” she huffs an exhausted laugh. “This is a dream, right?”
He laughs in return and kisses her then starts thrusting in earnest. He pushes her legs open, bracing his hands on the insides of her knees, flattening them to the mattress. “Think this’ll get you through seven days?” He asks and she’s helpless beneath him. She nods and takes all that he gives.
“Mornin’,” Vanessa hears Katie’s voice behind her as she heaps cheesy eggs and bacon onto her plate.
She and Dean took a ridiculously long, hot shower and she’s scrubbed clean of all makeup or hair products, or evidence that Dean ever existed. But her body remembers him.
“Hey,” Vanessa returns with a lopsided smile. She barely slept and she is definitely ready for a nap, but she’s starving so she decided to join the wedding party for brunch and gift opening.
“Where’s Paul Newman?” Katies asks, helping herself to some eggs, nudging and side-eyeing Vanessa.
Vanessa breathes a small laugh. “He does have that look, doesn’t he?” She says dreamily, dumping salsa over her eggs. She suddenly imagined him in a suit, debonair and dashing.
“Yeah, he does,” Katie replies, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Vanessa’s ear. “You okay?”
Vanessa looks her in the eye. “Yeah,” she answers, feeling a little guilty for her hostility toward the wedding party the night before. The women – apart from the bride – have been fantastic to her. “I am. I’m spent, but I’m… good.”
Katie groans and rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing. “Ugh, that good, huh?”
Vanessa nods with a grin. “That good.”
They head to the Bloody Mary bar. “Did he leave?” Katie asks, delicately, gauging Vanessa’s reaction.
Vanessa nods. “Couple hours ago.” The regret claws at her stomach as they sit with Emma and her boyfriend at a round table. Vanessa’s lack of sleep creeps up on her. She feels tears prick her eyes.
Emma reaches for her hand. “Hey,” she says with a wide grin. “How was your night?”
Vanessa accepts Emma’s warm hand in hers with a nod. “It was pretty fucking amazing,” she answers. “One might say he left a lasting impression.”
Emma snorts. “I bet he did!”
And Vanessa really does feel him for the next seven days, pleasantly deep inside her heart and her soul.
IncogNinja 