Getting Closer
Title: Getting Closer
Characters: Dean/Donna
Rating: R
Word Count: 2075
Summary: Whatever it was that Dean needed, Donna would very happily provide.
A/N: Written for Round 6 of the spn_masquerade. The beginning of this story was originally posted here. Now it's all shiny and finished. Meeeeeep. I've wanted to write Dean/Donna for a long while and there were elements of this particular prompt that I had been interested in exploring. So here it is. Hope you like it, OP!!
AO3
Donna was certain of a lot of things, but the one thing that was foremost and most true was that she loved and was in love with Dean Winchester. She’d crushed hard the minute they met and then when he’d told her she deserved better and called Doug a dick, she’d fallen completely.
The first time they had sex was after she found out vampires and near enough any other kind of oogie boogie you could think of was real.
It had been every fantasy she’d never dared to dream she could have. And she knew Dean wanted her. He made her feel like a Goddess. A Queen. And she knew his affection was real. That he maybe might even love her too. Just not in the same way she loved him. But she didn’t need him to. She wasn’t a dummy. She knew what their relationship was.
And she was very happy to oblige when he came calling at her door. Whatever it was he sought. Whatever it was he needed. She would very happily give.
Her favourite times were when he was all flirty and smirky and cocky and confident. When they would laugh and share stories, make love. But there was something to be said for the times when he came to her in need when he was stricken with grief, when he chose to take solace in her. Fuck her quick and dirty.
It was one such time that led to a new type of visit. One that didn’t include sex. A time when Dean hadn’t been able to keep himself from falling apart so completely. His sob gut-wrenching. She’d taken him into her arms, one hand rubbing across the back of his shoulders, the other very lightly pushing her fingers in and out of his hair, his head resting on her chest as she very gently shushed him, “Shh, it’s okay, Dean. You’re okay. Shh. I’ve got you.”
When he’d finally started to calm, his breath evening out, he’d turned his head, started mouthing at her breast. Latching on over the cotton of her sleep-tee. “Dean,” she’d all but whispered. Not entirely sure what her next move was supposed to be. But she knew she didn’t want to let him go. To push him away. So she pulled her shirt down and out of the way, tucking the neckline under her now exposed breast to give him unfettered access. And he’d suckled from her until he fell asleep.
She’d kissed his forehead, gently laying him down on her couch. And she adjusted herself before carefully lifting his legs up so he could lie more comfortably. She’d watched him for a moment, smoothing out the blanket over his chest, that she’d placed over him, with her hands, she’d never felt as close to anyone as she did to Dean right then. It was the most intimate act she’d ever experienced.
Dean had been embarrassed when he woke a couple of hours later. Ashamed. And unable to hold her gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.
“Dean. Please. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. And there sure as heck ain’t nothin’ you gotta be sorry for,” she cupped his cheek and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into her touch, his head shaking, “Donna.”
“Shh. If there’s something you need, that I can give to you? I want you to have it.”
“I don’t deserve it. Any of it. Especially not you.”
“Well see that’s where you’re wrong.”
“Donna-”
“Don’t Donna me, mister. You really think I’d let you take something I didn’t want to give?”
“No,” Dean huffed, scratching the back of his neck.
Donna really didn’t want to push him away; this was a delicate situation. One wrong word..? It didn’t take a genius to see how he struggled with such open vulnerability, he felt exposed and out of control.
She could only hope that it wouldn’t keep him away.
“Dean, my door will always be open to you.”
He’d given her a barely there nod, still unable to maintain eye contact, teeth worrying his lip. He pushed his hand back through his hair, “I’ve gotta run. Thanks for-… Thanks, Donna.”
He clapped her shoulder, gave it a small squeeze.
“Anytime, Dean.”
And he was gone. Under normal circumstances he would have kissed her goodbye. Wrapped her in his arms with a promise of next time. Donna felt a strange and hollow pang in her chest as she stood there, staring into the space he’d left. And she had wondered when she’d see him again. If.
Two months had slid on by without a peep. Not an unusual occurrence for Dean, but it felt different this time. Like it maybe might have been over.
Then Donna had caught wind of something supernatural two towns over, and she’d called him. He’d brought Sam with him of course, so it was strictly business. Sam didn’t know about their rendezvous or at least if he did he wasn’t letting on. But she was pretty sure that he didn’t.
Dean had said right from the beginning that he wanted this, whatever it was between them, to stay that way.
And Donna had agreed. She liked having something that was just theirs. They didn’t need anyone nosing around.
Dean worried about that sometimes. Didn’t want to hurt her feelings or break her heart, give her the wrong impression. She’d caught glimpses of it on his face. She’d been a little surprised when he’d actually voiced his concerns, and instantly knew that she shouldn’t have been.
Donna had pushed her fingers back through his hair, curving around his ear, “You keep thinkin’ I don’t know what this is. But I do.”
“But you-”
“I already had the happily ever after. And that didn’t turn out so good. This feels good. Gosh darn, if you ask me.”
Dean chuckled a little, taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips to place a kiss to the back of it, “There ain’t no one else like you.”
“Guess you’ll just have to keep coming back then.”
“Reckon I will,” and there had been a hint of the teasing tone that she loved, she’d shaken her head, using their combined hands to push his face to the side.
And not that it wasn’t good to see Sam too. But with the way she and Dean had left things she just missed him more than she was normally given to.
The hunt turned out to be a quick one two. And they hadn’t stuck around. Dean hadn’t stuck around.
The hollow of where her heart used to be ached. But she needn’t have worried.
Three days later he returned solo. They had sex pressed right up against the back of her front door. Dean hadn’t wanted to wait, picked her right up, kicked the door shut, spun them around, slammed her back against it. Donna had no complaints about that. Her arms and legs wrapping around him automatically. He’d handed her a condom, which he’d held between two fingers, both of his hands cupping her ass once she took it from him, pinching at the material of her pyjama bottoms, “Do you mind if I...”
Donna shook her head, uncaring of the rest of that sentence, whatever it was she was in the affirmative. She gasped when he ripped them open along the seam. Damn did it get her juices flowing, turning her on just as much as his strength always did, and she opened his pants as quickly and carefully as possible to pull out his dick to roll on the condom.
He kissed her then, hungry, fiery and apologetic. Like he needed her more than he needed oxygen. He lifted her up, pushing her up the door, Donna lifting her thighs as much as she could to get them lined up. She gasped again as he slipped inside. Her back arching away from the door, pushing her breasts towards his face, and he buried his head between them when she finally sunk down all the way. She dropped her head to his, one hand cradling his neck, “Dean,” she said softly.
Like a prayer.
Permission.
And he fucked her with abandon. The two licking and biting and sucking each other’s lips between kisses. Dean’s lips finding her throat, marking her up. She held him there, the scrape of his stubble juxtaposing the softness of his nose against her skin. The way his body smacked into hers was just right, her orgasm swelling higher and higher, her legs tightening around him, arms pulling him impossibly closer, as it finally crashed right through her, “Dean.”
And Dean came tumbling after.
Buried his face in her shoulder, “Donna.”
And they stayed there like that until Dean couldn’t hold her no more, gently helping her slide down to her feet without breaking their bubble. His arms framing her, hands pressed flat against her door. Donna removed the condom, tucking his cock back into his underwear and zipped him up, before placing a hand on his chest, their eyes meeting.
She smiled.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey,” he smiled back, tangling his fingers into her hair, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, “Fuck, I missed this.”
“Me too,” Donna said, taking a glance over her shoulder, even though she knew she wouldn’t see anything from this angle, a smirk tugged at her lips, “You owe me a new pair of bottoms though.”
“Shit,” the ghost of a laugh on his breath, “Donna. Sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it, Dean-a-rino,” and she fist bumped his shoulder, she’d been aiming to make him laugh for real.
But he just gave her a small smile, no less sincere, “I did miss you.”
“Well, right back atcha,” Donna wrapped her arms around his slender waist, “You want to stay the night?”
Dean didn’t usually stick around that long after they’d had sex. Sometimes they’d fall asleep or he’d take a shower, but for some reason he’d gotten this notion into his head that he shouldn’t stick around and he’d leave as soon as he had all his clothes back on.
So, it was unprecedented, but he’d accepted the invitation.
Only if you want me to.
Held her in his arms as they slept. Waited until she wakened in the morning to give her her kiss goodbye.
There were three more visits until they revisited the whole breastfeeding deal. Dean had been just as embarrassed as he had been the first time. But this was different, this time he was asking, the last time it had just happened. With some coaxing, Dean had asked her to read to him, and they settled in on her bed, Dean resting his head on her chest and she read him one of the few kids’ books she still owned. Until he was ready and she pulled her shirt out of the way as he resettled so he could feed more comfortably.
“That’s my good boy,” she said softly as she caressed his head and the side of his face, she wasn’t sure what made her say it but Dean seemed to suckle more securely and it emboldened her, “My sweet baby boy.”
It took many more visits and a lot more coaxing and a lot more awkward conversation and eventually negotiation to get to the heart of what it was that Dean wanted -needed- from her. And he didn’t need or want it all the time, but when he did Donna wanted to be prepared. It wasn’t a sexual need. And apart from the breastfeeding and the endearments, Dean didn’t want to be a baby or be treated like one. He just wanted to be little sometimes, not have to deal with all the crap that adult Dean did, and for Donna to take care of him.
“Mommy?”
It’d taken more than a few times for Dean to be comfortable calling her that, she always gave him gentle encouragement. Praise.
“Yes, Dean, my love?”
“Can I help you with dinner?”
She smiled, cupping his face, it still never failed to make her heart clench with the way he leaned into every touch, a reminder of the childhood he’d lost, and she held on a little longer, her thumb brushing over his cheek, “Of course you can, Sweetheart. But you’ll need to be careful. Go wash your hands and then Mommy will show you.”
Characters: Dean/Donna
Rating: R
Word Count: 2075
Summary: Whatever it was that Dean needed, Donna would very happily provide.
A/N: Written for Round 6 of the spn_masquerade. The beginning of this story was originally posted here. Now it's all shiny and finished. Meeeeeep. I've wanted to write Dean/Donna for a long while and there were elements of this particular prompt that I had been interested in exploring. So here it is. Hope you like it, OP!!
AO3
Donna was certain of a lot of things, but the one thing that was foremost and most true was that she loved and was in love with Dean Winchester. She’d crushed hard the minute they met and then when he’d told her she deserved better and called Doug a dick, she’d fallen completely.
The first time they had sex was after she found out vampires and near enough any other kind of oogie boogie you could think of was real.
It had been every fantasy she’d never dared to dream she could have. And she knew Dean wanted her. He made her feel like a Goddess. A Queen. And she knew his affection was real. That he maybe might even love her too. Just not in the same way she loved him. But she didn’t need him to. She wasn’t a dummy. She knew what their relationship was.
And she was very happy to oblige when he came calling at her door. Whatever it was he sought. Whatever it was he needed. She would very happily give.
Her favourite times were when he was all flirty and smirky and cocky and confident. When they would laugh and share stories, make love. But there was something to be said for the times when he came to her in need when he was stricken with grief, when he chose to take solace in her. Fuck her quick and dirty.
It was one such time that led to a new type of visit. One that didn’t include sex. A time when Dean hadn’t been able to keep himself from falling apart so completely. His sob gut-wrenching. She’d taken him into her arms, one hand rubbing across the back of his shoulders, the other very lightly pushing her fingers in and out of his hair, his head resting on her chest as she very gently shushed him, “Shh, it’s okay, Dean. You’re okay. Shh. I’ve got you.”
When he’d finally started to calm, his breath evening out, he’d turned his head, started mouthing at her breast. Latching on over the cotton of her sleep-tee. “Dean,” she’d all but whispered. Not entirely sure what her next move was supposed to be. But she knew she didn’t want to let him go. To push him away. So she pulled her shirt down and out of the way, tucking the neckline under her now exposed breast to give him unfettered access. And he’d suckled from her until he fell asleep.
She’d kissed his forehead, gently laying him down on her couch. And she adjusted herself before carefully lifting his legs up so he could lie more comfortably. She’d watched him for a moment, smoothing out the blanket over his chest, that she’d placed over him, with her hands, she’d never felt as close to anyone as she did to Dean right then. It was the most intimate act she’d ever experienced.
Dean had been embarrassed when he woke a couple of hours later. Ashamed. And unable to hold her gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.
“Dean. Please. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. And there sure as heck ain’t nothin’ you gotta be sorry for,” she cupped his cheek and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into her touch, his head shaking, “Donna.”
“Shh. If there’s something you need, that I can give to you? I want you to have it.”
“I don’t deserve it. Any of it. Especially not you.”
“Well see that’s where you’re wrong.”
“Donna-”
“Don’t Donna me, mister. You really think I’d let you take something I didn’t want to give?”
“No,” Dean huffed, scratching the back of his neck.
Donna really didn’t want to push him away; this was a delicate situation. One wrong word..? It didn’t take a genius to see how he struggled with such open vulnerability, he felt exposed and out of control.
She could only hope that it wouldn’t keep him away.
“Dean, my door will always be open to you.”
He’d given her a barely there nod, still unable to maintain eye contact, teeth worrying his lip. He pushed his hand back through his hair, “I’ve gotta run. Thanks for-… Thanks, Donna.”
He clapped her shoulder, gave it a small squeeze.
“Anytime, Dean.”
And he was gone. Under normal circumstances he would have kissed her goodbye. Wrapped her in his arms with a promise of next time. Donna felt a strange and hollow pang in her chest as she stood there, staring into the space he’d left. And she had wondered when she’d see him again. If.
Two months had slid on by without a peep. Not an unusual occurrence for Dean, but it felt different this time. Like it maybe might have been over.
Then Donna had caught wind of something supernatural two towns over, and she’d called him. He’d brought Sam with him of course, so it was strictly business. Sam didn’t know about their rendezvous or at least if he did he wasn’t letting on. But she was pretty sure that he didn’t.
Dean had said right from the beginning that he wanted this, whatever it was between them, to stay that way.
And Donna had agreed. She liked having something that was just theirs. They didn’t need anyone nosing around.
Dean worried about that sometimes. Didn’t want to hurt her feelings or break her heart, give her the wrong impression. She’d caught glimpses of it on his face. She’d been a little surprised when he’d actually voiced his concerns, and instantly knew that she shouldn’t have been.
Donna had pushed her fingers back through his hair, curving around his ear, “You keep thinkin’ I don’t know what this is. But I do.”
“But you-”
“I already had the happily ever after. And that didn’t turn out so good. This feels good. Gosh darn, if you ask me.”
Dean chuckled a little, taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips to place a kiss to the back of it, “There ain’t no one else like you.”
“Guess you’ll just have to keep coming back then.”
“Reckon I will,” and there had been a hint of the teasing tone that she loved, she’d shaken her head, using their combined hands to push his face to the side.
And not that it wasn’t good to see Sam too. But with the way she and Dean had left things she just missed him more than she was normally given to.
The hunt turned out to be a quick one two. And they hadn’t stuck around. Dean hadn’t stuck around.
The hollow of where her heart used to be ached. But she needn’t have worried.
Three days later he returned solo. They had sex pressed right up against the back of her front door. Dean hadn’t wanted to wait, picked her right up, kicked the door shut, spun them around, slammed her back against it. Donna had no complaints about that. Her arms and legs wrapping around him automatically. He’d handed her a condom, which he’d held between two fingers, both of his hands cupping her ass once she took it from him, pinching at the material of her pyjama bottoms, “Do you mind if I...”
Donna shook her head, uncaring of the rest of that sentence, whatever it was she was in the affirmative. She gasped when he ripped them open along the seam. Damn did it get her juices flowing, turning her on just as much as his strength always did, and she opened his pants as quickly and carefully as possible to pull out his dick to roll on the condom.
He kissed her then, hungry, fiery and apologetic. Like he needed her more than he needed oxygen. He lifted her up, pushing her up the door, Donna lifting her thighs as much as she could to get them lined up. She gasped again as he slipped inside. Her back arching away from the door, pushing her breasts towards his face, and he buried his head between them when she finally sunk down all the way. She dropped her head to his, one hand cradling his neck, “Dean,” she said softly.
Like a prayer.
Permission.
And he fucked her with abandon. The two licking and biting and sucking each other’s lips between kisses. Dean’s lips finding her throat, marking her up. She held him there, the scrape of his stubble juxtaposing the softness of his nose against her skin. The way his body smacked into hers was just right, her orgasm swelling higher and higher, her legs tightening around him, arms pulling him impossibly closer, as it finally crashed right through her, “Dean.”
And Dean came tumbling after.
Buried his face in her shoulder, “Donna.”
And they stayed there like that until Dean couldn’t hold her no more, gently helping her slide down to her feet without breaking their bubble. His arms framing her, hands pressed flat against her door. Donna removed the condom, tucking his cock back into his underwear and zipped him up, before placing a hand on his chest, their eyes meeting.
She smiled.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey,” he smiled back, tangling his fingers into her hair, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, “Fuck, I missed this.”
“Me too,” Donna said, taking a glance over her shoulder, even though she knew she wouldn’t see anything from this angle, a smirk tugged at her lips, “You owe me a new pair of bottoms though.”
“Shit,” the ghost of a laugh on his breath, “Donna. Sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it, Dean-a-rino,” and she fist bumped his shoulder, she’d been aiming to make him laugh for real.
But he just gave her a small smile, no less sincere, “I did miss you.”
“Well, right back atcha,” Donna wrapped her arms around his slender waist, “You want to stay the night?”
Dean didn’t usually stick around that long after they’d had sex. Sometimes they’d fall asleep or he’d take a shower, but for some reason he’d gotten this notion into his head that he shouldn’t stick around and he’d leave as soon as he had all his clothes back on.
So, it was unprecedented, but he’d accepted the invitation.
Only if you want me to.
Held her in his arms as they slept. Waited until she wakened in the morning to give her her kiss goodbye.
There were three more visits until they revisited the whole breastfeeding deal. Dean had been just as embarrassed as he had been the first time. But this was different, this time he was asking, the last time it had just happened. With some coaxing, Dean had asked her to read to him, and they settled in on her bed, Dean resting his head on her chest and she read him one of the few kids’ books she still owned. Until he was ready and she pulled her shirt out of the way as he resettled so he could feed more comfortably.
“That’s my good boy,” she said softly as she caressed his head and the side of his face, she wasn’t sure what made her say it but Dean seemed to suckle more securely and it emboldened her, “My sweet baby boy.”
It took many more visits and a lot more coaxing and a lot more awkward conversation and eventually negotiation to get to the heart of what it was that Dean wanted -needed- from her. And he didn’t need or want it all the time, but when he did Donna wanted to be prepared. It wasn’t a sexual need. And apart from the breastfeeding and the endearments, Dean didn’t want to be a baby or be treated like one. He just wanted to be little sometimes, not have to deal with all the crap that adult Dean did, and for Donna to take care of him.
“Mommy?”
It’d taken more than a few times for Dean to be comfortable calling her that, she always gave him gentle encouragement. Praise.
“Yes, Dean, my love?”
“Can I help you with dinner?”
She smiled, cupping his face, it still never failed to make her heart clench with the way he leaned into every touch, a reminder of the childhood he’d lost, and she held on a little longer, her thumb brushing over his cheek, “Of course you can, Sweetheart. But you’ll need to be careful. Go wash your hands and then Mommy will show you.”