Say What?
Title: Say What?
Pairing: Dean, OFC (No Mary Sue, I promise.)
Rating: R for sexual situations and language
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, don’t know ‘em, just playin’. And no, I have never personally pictured any of these scenarios occurring with Dean Winchester. Ever. Not even a little. (Dude, he’s not even real!) Though, I can’t say the same about the actor who portrays him. (Or portrays his brother.) *clears throat* ‘Nuff of that. Read on.
Summary: Dean is over at a classmate’s house, working on a social studies project when they stop to take a break. They sit in her bedroom, drinking soda and bitching about what an idiot the teacher is when all of a sudden his partner decides to change the subject.
“D’you wanna fuck me?” she asks.
“What?”
“I said: Do. You. Want. To fuck. Me?” He freezes, eyes locked on hers. “It’s not a difficult question Dean.”
“I…” he hesitates. “I…”
“You what?” she folds her arms, waiting impatiently.
“I… we can’t,” he responds, shocked to shit.
She scoffs at his response, rolling her eyes. “Gimme a break. Dean Winchester, playboy extraordinaire is turning down sex? Someone call the newspaper up. I think hell just froze over.”
He gulps and blinks hard a few times. “Where the hell is this coming from?”
“Please Dean. It’s not like every girl in school doesn’t know about you.”
“What are you talking about?” His expression is tight and intense.
She snorts, “Mary Anne Parker, Sally Bowles, Jaime Tuner….” She stands and glares down at him. “Shall I go on?” He can feel the flush creeping into his cheeks as she rattles off the names of a dozen or so girls he’s “dated” since the beginning of term. He hadn’t realized there’d been quite so many. Or that everyone knew. “…Kathy Connor. I mean really Dean… You’ll fuck her, but not me?”
“Why are you doing this?” He looks up as she bends forward, getting right up in his face. Her hands are on the arms of his chair now, penning him in with her body.
“Why not?”
“I can think of a few reasons.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for starters, I don’t want to.”
“Why not? You don’t think I’m pretty enough?”
“No, you’re plenty pretty, but…”
Her cool gaze cuts right through him. He thinks that she hasn’t blinked for the entire time they’ve been talking. “…but what?”
“You’re not like that.”
“Like what?”
He makes a dismissive waving gesture with his hands. “Like that…”
“Oh,” she says, and straightens up, turning away from him. “And what is that like?”
“I dunno, skanky?”
She turns around at that and looks at him. She laughs. She fucking laughs at that. “Which means?”
“You’re, you… you don’t strike me as a sex behind the wood shop between classes kind of girl.”
“Is that what you want?”
“What?”
“You want a girl that will blow you in the parking lot at lunch Dean? ‘Cause I can do that.”
He looks down at the floor, tries not to picture her lips wrapped around his cock, his hand twisted in her hair, holding her head down while he fucks her mouth.
“Have you every done it in the library? Crept underneath a table and pushed a girl’s skirt up over her hips, burying your face between her thighs? Going down on her while she bites on her pencil to keep herself from moaning and letting everyone know what you’re up to?”
He finds himself wondering what kind of panties she wears; clean white cotton or sexy pink lace? Maybe she doesn’t wear any at all. How hot would that be, her slick and wet and writhing against his tongue?
“You’re not going to answer?” She gives a twisted little smile. “Maybe that’s not your thing. Maybe you’d be more interested if I offered to fuck you in the girl’s locker room, you holding me up against the wall, panties pushed aside, your dick pulled through the front of your boxers?” He tries to contain his reaction to her description, but he’s pretty sure she hears his breath hitch.
“Or, maybe you’d prefer to do it in the theatre? You could bend me over the catwalk railing and take me from behind while the drama class is using the stage below,” she suggests, her voice smug.
“Uh…” he wonders if his pupils are as big as he thinks they must be, blown wide at the thought of his fingers digging into her hips as he thrusts away; pressing hard against the pale skin of her ass, the sound of skin meeting skin. He can feel the blood leaving his brain and flowing to his penis.
She crouches down in front of him, her hands on his knees, looking up at him through her lashes. “I hear you fucked Samantha Jarvis in the weight room. Her straddling you while you were on the benches.” She crawls up onto his lap, straddling his thighs. He thinks about shoving her off, but it feels too good the way her pelvis is pressing against his groin.
“Kelly,” he whispers, eyes closed. He is not imagining what it would feel like to open his jeans and pull her down on top of him right now. Not at all. “Kelly, I….”
“I know Dean,” she says, annoyance in her tone. “Not with me.” She slips off of him, a small pout on her face. “Fuuuuuck.” She flops down on the bed opposite him. “I don’t get you.”
He looks at her for a moment, wondering what he should do. Should he leave? Just sit still? Run? “Kelly,” he waits for her to look over at him. “Kell, all those things sound, um… amazing. But you don’t really….”
She sits up, glaring at him. “I don’t really want to do those things? I’m not that type of girl?” She shakes her head and continues bitterly. “Jesus Dean, can you hear yourself? I mean, as if you even care about that shit! Ever since you came to our school you’ve been making plays to get in every girl’s pants,” she flops back on the bed again, “just not mine.”
“That’s not entirely true,” he says. She shoots him a look, her eyebrow quirked. “I haven’t tried to get in Katie Barker’s pants.”
“Katie Barker is a butch lesbian with more facial hair than you Dean.”
“Still, I haven’t hit on her,” he smirks. He hears Kelly try to suppress a laugh.
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”
“Look, Kell,” he says, getting out of the chair and crossing over to the bed to sit next to her. He puts his hand on hers. “It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with you, it’s just…. You know.”
“No, I don’t.” She looks at his hand on hers.
He pulls his hand away, runs his fingers through his hair. He thinks maybe tomorrow he should go for a haircut, his bangs are getting kind of long. “Look, Kell, I never know when our family is going to be moving again, and you’re not the kind of girl I just want to bang and then leave.”
“What if I don’t care? Maybe I don’t care if you use me. Has it ever occurred to you that it’s all I want from you?”
“Is it?”
She looks away from him, biting her lip. “No, not really, but it’d be nice, for once, to be one of those girls that the boys look at that way, just once.”
“You don’t want guys to look at you like that. You’ve got more to offer than just a quick fuck.”
“And those other girls don’t?”
Dean shrugs a little. “Not that I could see.”
“Nice.”
“I didn’t say it was nice. It’s just the way it is.”
“So, there’s nothing I can do to convince you?”
“Jesus Kell! What do you want me to say? That I want to fuck you? Fine! I’d love to fuck you. Every single scenario you suggested turned me on. I had no idea you even thought dirty shit like that! God,” he rubbed his eyes with this knuckles. “You’ve got me half-hard sitting here, thinking about all the different places around the school I could…”
”Only half hard?” she asks, interrupting.
He stops, looking at her with a grin. “Okay, totally hard. But still….”
She sits up and twists around to face him. “So you do think about it.”
“Huh?”
“So, you do think about fucking me?”
Oh. Dean thinks. Is that what this is about? Well shit then, “Hell yeah!” he laughs, “totally.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he answers. “And after today, I can guarantee I’m going to be thinking about it more.”
“Yeah?”
He looks at her for a moment with an incredulous expression on his face. “Kelly, I think I’ve got enough inspiration for at least a week’s worth of showers here.”
She looks at him with a naughty smile. “Cool.”
“Although, I had no idea you had such a wild imagination,” he says. “I may have to reconsider my opinion of you. Maybe you are kind of skanky.”
“Am not,” she says, slapping him playfully.
“You totally are,” he smirks.
“No!” she insists, indignant.
“Maybe I should talk to the guys at school about you. Could be I’ll find out that this sweet school girl thing is all an act and that you’re really some porn star or something.”
“I highly doubt that,” she laughs.
“Well, a guy can dream right?” he grins. Women! He’ll never understand what the hell they’re thinking, ever.
A/N: I don’t personally believe in this whole madonna/whore pile of crapola, but given his canon womanizing ways, tendency to call women bitches (just go back to season one and check it out), complete inability to connect emotionally with ladies in a healthy way I think Dean probably does.