Actions

Work Header

Till Sex Do We Part

Work Text:

You couldn’t believe the situation you found yourself in. Not only were you on a hunt with the infamous John Winchester, but the thing you were hunting seemed to be going after newlyweds. Six couples in the last month had been found dead the day after getting married; with various causes of death, ranging from dehydration to heart attacks. The only problem was that someone was going to have to get married to set the trap.

You were the only female on the case, which meant that you were going to have to at least pretend to get married. Dean was more than eager to volunteer his services, and having just turned twenty, he was technically old enough. John was quick to shut Dean’s offer down, citing that he didn’t want his eldest son to play the bait in case things went sideways. You were slightly relieved, given that you were twelve years older than the young hunter. Granted John was more than ten years your senior, but the age difference wasn’t as noticeable between the two of you.

So that was how you found yourselves at the courthouse filing for a marriage license with your aliases, since this was just a cover. Whatever it was that was after newlyweds didn’t seem to care how they got married, just that they had. So instead of trying to put together an actual ceremony, it was quicker, and more cost efficient, to go to the Justice of the Peace and get it over with. In the county that you all found yourselves in, the Justice happened to be located in the county jail. Why that seemed like a good idea for them, you could only guess.

After you got your marriage license you made your way back to the motel to get changed. It was very important, since you had no idea who or what you were looking for, that you looked as believable as possible going into this. You had found a simple white cotton dress at a local shop which hugged your form perfectly. It was flattering, yet comfortable and functional, easily concealing your holsters for your gun and bowie knife. You did your hair and makeup simply, yet still looked like you put a little effort into it. Once you deemed yourself ready, you made your way to the boys’ room.

Sam opened the door and immediately dropped his gaze to take in your full look. His cheeks flushed pink and he quickly looked away as he held the door open to invite you in. Dean was sitting at the small table and also did a double take at the sight of you in a dress. It was the most leg you had shown in years, and it helped to boost your confidence that you could still pull off looking like a girl.

Dean cleared his throat then whistled. “Looking good, Y/N. Dad’s finishing up in the bathroom, now.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

“Doesn’t she look good, Sammy?” Dean teased his little brother.

You turned to face Sam, letting your dress bell out as you moved, and smiled at him.

Sam nodded and squeaked out a shy, “Sure does.”

You laughed, smiled wider, and thanked him. Dean laughed at Sam’s awkwardness and still changing voice. You felt a little bad for Sam, he wasn’t quite sixteen yet, and his body was still going through the more challenging stages of development. Constantly being around such men as John and Dean couldn’t have made his situation any easier.

Just then the bathroom door opened, and you had to control your eyes so that they wouldn’t bug out of your head. “Dean, what have I told you about teasing your brother?” His voice was equal parts gravel and molasses, and did things to you that you swore to take to the grave. He was clean shaven, with his hair combed back, and was dressed simply in a nice pair of dark slacks and a white button up shirt; he was devastatingly handsome.

“Sorry, sir,” Dean apologized.

“Well sweetheart, look at you.” John took in the look at you in much the same way as his sons had; only his gaze seemed to light you on fire as it moved down your body.

You tried to laugh off the compliment and made a half-assed, joking attempt to pull out the bottom of your dress and curtsy. John, imitating your formality, pulled himself to his full height, tucked his arms in at his waist as he walked over to you, and offered you his elbow. “Shall we?”

You prayed that your cheeks weren’t noticeably burning as you accepted his arm and headed to the car. Quick words of warning were given to Sam, who was staying behind, to properly seal off the room and get his homework done. Dean hopped in the backseat, you in the front passenger, and John into the driver seat of the sturdy old Impala. You all went over the plan again on the way out to the jailhouse.

It was easier than it should have been to pretend to be an excited bride with John touching you and looking at you the way he was. You never pictured that you would make a blushing bride, but there you were, standing in front of the Justice, cheeks aflame, with John’s hands holding yours, his eyes boring straight into your soul. You were honest to God shaking as you exchanged the simple, silver, thrift store bands you had found, and your heart leapt into your throat when John leaned down to seal your fake new bond with a kiss.

His lips were soft on yours, and his kiss was firm. You gasped at the overwhelming sensation, and he took the chance to slide his tongue over your bottom lip. You leaned into him, trying to deepen the kiss and John smiled against your mouth, leaning away. “Let’s save some for later, Princess.” He winked at you, and you almost swooned on the spot.

The Justice smiled at you knowingly, and slid the paper across the table for you and John to sign. There was some yelling out in the corridor, the sounds of a fight starting up, and Dean stuck his head out the door to check on it. He shook his head and came back over to the desk. Without putting too much thought into it, since you were having to focus on breathing, you signed your name on the line the Justice indicated, and played with your ring, as John signed his, the fight still going on outside the little room.

All the paperwork was split between you after everyone had signed, Dean and another clerk acting as your witnesses, and you were officially fake married to John McAllister. When everyone was loaded into the car, you now sitting in the middle of the front bench seat, John’s hand on your thigh and your head on his shoulder, you made your way back to the motel.

Once there, John threw the key to his room to Dean, and walked down the corridor to your room. Once you managed to get the key in the slot and unlock the door, John surprised you by lifting you into his arms to carry you into the room, then heeling the door closed behind you. The lights were still off, and you landed unsteadily on your feet when John sat you down. Luckily his arms were still strong around you and you were able to regain your balance.

“Easy there, Princess.” You could feel the rumble of his words as they radiated from his body into yours. “You good?”

Unable to trust your voice you nodded, and pulled yourself away from him. His hands lingered on your arms before slipping free, leaving behind a warmth that was more than just his body heat. You made your way to your bag to grab a change of clothes and John flipped on the lights. You put down all the paperwork and everything on the bed, kicked your shoes off and made your way to the bathroom to change.

Slipping out of your dress and into your shorts and tank top you pulled your hair into a haphazard ponytail and washed your face. Your head seemed clearer with the door closed between John and yourself, what had made you feel so giddy and frazzled. Sure John was an attractive, capable man, but you had worked with him before. Why would this case be any different than any other one?

When you opened the door the breath, as well as all rational thought, left your body as you took in the sight of John, shirt unbuttoned, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, laying on your bed. He had a puzzled look on his face as he was reading the papers you had sat down.

“Y/N, Darlin’, I think we might have a probl-” He cut himself off when he took in the sight of you in your lounge wear.

You took a few steps forward, and John swung his legs over the side of the bed to face you properly. His hands reached out to grab your hips and slot you in between his knees. He rested his head on your chest, and flexed his fingers on your hips, bunching up your shorts. Your breaths came in infrequent short bursts, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut as he held you close.

Your hands moved from John’s shoulders, when had you grabbed him?, to run your fingers through his hair. He groaned at the touch, and the combination of the sound and feel of it dampened your panties. His hands slid their way up your tank top, and lifted your arms so that he could remove the excess layer. As soon as your shirt hit the floor your hands were back in his hair, and his mouth was on your breasts alternating between the two with his hands and mouth. He quickly had your nipples freed from the cups of your sports bra, and lavished them each with opened mouth kisses.

Struggling to stay standing, your knees buried into the edge of the bed between John’s legs, your body held tight in the circle of his strong arms. One particularly exquisite bite from him had your fingers pull tight on the back of his head which caused you both to moan aloud. Taking his cue, John lifted you off the floor and rolled so that you were pinned to the bed under his weight.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve wanted this for so long. Can’t even tell you.” His mouth was all over your neck, nibbling on your ear, trailing down to your clavicle.

“Mmm, John!” He was hitting all of your most sensitive spots; it was as if he had a road map to all of your innermost desires.

John’s hands made their way down your body and he hooked his thumbs into your shorts and underwear; taking the hint, you lifted your hips so that he could rid you of the bottom layers of clothing. Once he had shed you of your shorts, his mouth slammed into yours in a bruising kiss. All sense of propriety forgotten as you ravaged each other. Your hands were much less graceful as you shoved his shirt the rest of the way off of him, and fumbled with his belt to get his pants off. You needed him, skin on skin, just as much as you needed air.

John chuckled softly against your neck before bracing himself up on one arm to undo his belt and undo his pants. Once the zipper was most of the way down, you regained your senses enough to pull them down under his ass. Your fingers brushed against his cock as you pulled your hands back up, and you felt it twitch at the touch. You wrapped your fingers around his impressive girth, and John bit down on your neck, hard, causing you to scream out.

He continued to bite and lick and kiss at your neck as you stroked him to full hardness. At some point one of his hands had ventured south and he began to work you open for him. You could hear the wet sloshy sounds of his fingers slipping in and out of your soaked cunt, and it only made you work him faster. With your free hand you grabbed the back of John’s head and pulled his mouth to yours.

The kiss was frantic and messy and by far the hottest thing you had ever done. After a moment he slipped his fingers out, and replaced your hand with his to line himself up. You braced yourself, grabbing his shoulders from underneath his arms, and holding on tight. Your brain registered some sort of noise outside your room, but not enough for you to linger on it. Just as you were about to ask John what was taking him so long, he shoved in. Your rarely used muscles burning at the desired intrusion as he slid all the way in, the head of his cock pressing into your cervix.

John paused for a moment before he eased out, and pushed back in again; setting a languid, steady pace. He filled you so wonderfully, and every stroke hit that sweet spot at your core and sent sparks flying behind your eyelids. His muscles flexed under your fingers, and his breaths were hot and heavy in your ear, he was building you up quickly; quicker than anyone had before.

You could feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, and you squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your inner walls tighter around John’s already thick cock. He moaned into your neck and the vibrations were the last stimulation you could take before you let go, exploding around him. He was only able to hold out for two more thrusts before he slammed in deep and stilled, pumping you full of his cum.

Before he was finished, and before you had truly regained the ability to breathe, it was like a cloud had lifted from your brain. You were suddenly very aware that John Winchester was naked above you and had just come inside of you. You both made eye contact at the same time and unceremoniously jerked away from each other; you flying to the head of the bed, flipping the edge of the comforter to cover yourself with, and him to the foot of the bed where he knelt on the floor to cover himself as well.

He looked at you, stricken. “Y/N,” you could hear the fear and regret in his voice, “please tell me we didn’t… ”

You weren’t sure who felt sicker about what had just happened. “We did.” Your stomach rolled, what the hell was going on?

Just then there was a loud bang on the door, John quickly slid into his pants and got them zipped and buttoned on his way to answer the door.

Dean came bursting in yelling, “Where the hell were you two?” Once he was in the room, he took in the state of his dad and you and his lip snarled into a disgusted look. “Uh, should I come back…?” he asked, equally mortified and confused.

“No,” both you and John answered at the same time.

“Yeah, well, it was a witch. It was that other lady at the Justice’s office, she was creeper stalking you guys outside the window, had a video camera and everything.” He shivered, then moved on. “I was able to get the drop on her, but she whammied me into the wall, luckily Sammy had snuck out and had those witch killing bullets from Uncle Bobby locked and loaded.” He rubbed the back of his head, no doubt waiting for John to lay into him about getting his little brother involved in the hunt.

“That actually makes sense now. You did good, Dean.” Dean’s eyes went wide when John put his hand on his shoulder, and you felt bad for him, not for the first time. All Dean ever seemed to want was John’s approval.

“But, Sammy-”

“Went against orders, and saved your ass. But you got the job done.” John looked him right in the eye, and Dean stood a little straighter. “Now, me and Y/N have some things we need to sort out, if you don’t mind.” He emphasized his point by nodding toward the door.

Dean’s face flushed and he glanced at you, then all but tripped over his feet trying to get out the room. Before the door had even shut, John had tossed you your tank top and shorts to slip back into. Luckily your bra was still on, but you weren’t going to fuss about missing underwear at the moment. John had his back to you as he slipped his shirt back on, and you stood to pull your shorts up. You both turned to face each other at the same time.

“So…” you started, not knowing exactly what needed to be said.

“Um, yeah. So, I noticed something while you were in the bathroom, before that spell took hold.”

You tried not to feel disappointed that the spell was the only reason that had happened. “What’s that?”

“Well, it seems that with all the commotion at the Justice’s office, and with that witch being there, that we both signed our real names to this marriage certificate.”

You choked on your intake of breath. “We what?”

“Y/N, looks like we just consummated our actual, legally binding, marriage.” His brows furrowed as he looked to you for your reaction, he didn’t even really sound disappointed.

“Well, hell, guess I’m a Winchester now, huh?” You shrugged it off, and watched as that sinful Winchester smile spread across his face.