Highway to Hell : One Shots
Parts: 10 Stand Alones
Total Wordcount: 22,658
Rating: PG-NC17
Pairing: Dean/Monte(OFC)
Spoilers: not a damn thing
Feedback: oh hell yea!
Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam *damnit* or anything else from the Supernatural universe. I do however own Monte.
Author's Note/Preface: I started these almost a year ago (Sept 07) I just found myself missing Monte, and the dynamic she had with Dean and got all nostalgic and schmoopy and shit and then...smuttlets were born.
You don't have to have read the HTH series to get these, they can stand by themselves. But of course there's little unimportant sprinklings of backstory you prolly won't get, but it doesn't much matter.
***
Cuddly Wuddly
Chapter Wordcount: 625
Rating: PG
A/N: Stuffed Pongo, see the banner? That's my boy, had 'em since I was 4.
Dean had been digging through Monte’s trunk, trying to locate her .45 that had jammed at the last shooting range, planning on breaking it down and cleaning it for her when his hand hit something soft.
Something soft and fuzzy.
He opened the bag to find a stuffed Dalmatian in all its spotted glory.
He smacked his head on the trunk when he stood up too fast, black and white stuffed fucking animal held in his hand.
Monte. His Monte. Kick ass, car loving, rock ‘n’ roll chick that he had fallen in love with and fought beside more times than he could count had a stuffed Dalmatian of all ever-loving things hidden in her trunk.
The pure mischief that was all but dripping from his grin should have been her first clue, even if it wasn’t, the way he held his hand just so behind his back had her arching her brow over the dog eared Chevy Power magazine she had been flipping through.
“Something I should know?”
Dean couldn’t trust his voice, so he just shook his head, his eyes crinkling around the edges with a grin so wide it was actually starting to hurt.
Her brow stayed arched as he strutted, outright strutted, over to the bed, sitting down carefully, concealing his prize.
“Dean…”
He couldn’t hold it back any longer and thrust the stuffed dog in her face.
The way the magazine jerked in her hands and her eyes widened in a split second of embarrassment and shock was so worth the crack on the head he had self inflicted on himself.
“Mind explaining this?” he smirked, chuckle just out of reach but still oozing into his tone as he shook it in her face.
“No.”
He snorted, “Why the hell do you have a stuffed animal?”
He really couldn’t see past the whole hilariousness of the situation to see that she was deadly serious about it, and just as the spark managed to jump the synapse in his brain and the corners of his mouth finally twitched a fraction down she snatched the dog out of his hand and wrapped her arms around it.
“Gives me something to hold onto when I sleep,” she said, batting her eyes, sickly sweet smile pointed in his direction.
“We’ve been together for months and I haven’t seen that thing.”
He had to hand it to her, he thought he had had the blackmail card of the century…wrong.
She pinched his cheek so hard, shaking his whole face before he could even register the movement.
“Now why would I need him when I have my big ol’ cuddly-wuddly Dean teddy-wheddy bear,” she cooed, all sarcasm filled baby talk.
He glared.
“I’m not a friggin’ teddy bear,” he grumbled, rubbing his now sore cheek.
Monte just smiled, “Whatever you say honey bunny.”
Dean was a lot of things, stupid was not one of them…okay, so maybe he could be a little dense, definitely qualified as slow sometimes, but not stupid, and he knew she had his ass beat.
“Whatever,” he mumbled, getting up.
He was not however expecting the hard thwack of that thing’s rock of a plastic nose colliding with the back of his skull.
“And don’t go nosing through my shit,” Monte grinned.
Dean just rolled his eyes, gingerly rubbing the back of his head, the first signs of a bump already beginning to form before stalking off to resume his search for the gun.
And if he had maybe snuggled into the cushy fur when she had jammed it between the two of them that night in bed, her own nose buried in its head as she slept peacefully there was no way in hell Dean was ever going to admit it.
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