Highway to Hell: One Shots: "Cowboys and Angels"
Highway to Hell : One Shots
Cowboys and Angels
Chapter Wordcount: 1778
Rating: NC17
A/N: Title from "Cowboys and Angels" by Garth Brooks
“Come on Dean, walking two blocks isn’t gonna kill you.”
“No, no it won’t, but why the hell can’t we take the Impala?”
“Because we don’t need to take the Impala.”
Sam chuckled behind them, nose buried in a novel that Monte had bought for him at the last rest stop. He was actually enjoying it.
Dean turned and pointed a finger at his younger brother, “Shut it.”
By the time he turned back around Monte had her patented pout firmly in place.
Dean groaned, Sam and his puppy eyes and Monte and her pout, two things he could never turn down.
“Fine.”
Monte burst into a grin and yanked Dean out the door, damn near yanking his arm out of socket in the process.
Dean was halfway across the bar’s porch and towards the door when he noticed Monte, who had been the one begging and pleading for him to accompany her to said bar, had disappeared from behind him.
“Monte?”
When a couple of roughnecks pushed through the doors, eyeing him cautiously he smiled at them before shuffling away.
“Monte!” he hissed.
“What?” she whispered back, her head appearing for a moment between a couple cars before disappearing again.
“What the hell are you doing?” he rumbled, marching over to her.
“Nothing, watch my back.”
“Watch your…”
He leaned over her shoulder, seeing her working deftly with the lock pick he distinctly remembered being in his pocket, on the door of a pickup.
He patted his jacket down; frowning when he realized the lock pick was indeed from his own jacket.
“You lifted my lock pick off me?”
She threw a cocky grin over her shoulder as the door to the truck popped open.
“Get in,” she smiled, unlocking the passenger door before leaning over and hotwiring the truck.
“What?!”
“Dean, either shut up and get in or I’m leaving you here and I promise you, you are not going to be happy about that decision…not for weeks,” she glared.
His brow furrowed as his mouth worked silently trying to figure out what the hell she was up to when the growl of the engine started and she slammed the door in his face.
He had all of about two seconds to run around the front of the pickup and jump in before she jammed it in reverse and tore out of the parking lot.
At least five minutes later, five silent minutes of driving down equally as silent back roads, Dean finally piped up.
“Mind telling me what’s going through that cracked head of yours?”
He had to admit, the devious grin he received kind of creeped him out.
“You’ll see.”
“Why do I not feel good about this?”
She just chuckled before taking the truck off road and started driving through some open fields.
He had one hand on the dash, keeping him in his seat at the truck bounced and rocked over the uneven ground.
Finally after about another five minutes of driving, taking them so deep into the apparently vacant land that they could no longer see any of the surrounding roads, she pulled up along side a tree line and shut the truck off, leaving the radio playing softly on some country station.
She just looked over at him, mile wide grin.
His hand was still on the dash, the other on the seat beside him and he glanced out the windshield and side window before once again looking over at her.
“What?”
“Nothin,’” she grinned.
He squinted suspiciously.
“Christo.”
She busted out laughing.
“I’m not possessed Dean,” she grinned, sliding open the rear window before shimmying her way through to the bed of the truck.
Dean in no way, shape or form was staring at her ass as she did. Nope, not him.
Eying the window for a moment and quickly coming to the conclusion that there way no way in hell his shoulders, let alone the rest of him, was fitting through that hole he got out and walked around the side of the truck, crossing his arms across the side of the bed.
“You gonna clue me in yet?” he asked, Monte propped up against the opposite wheel well, toeing off her boots.
“Why don’t you join me and I’ll decide.”
He rolled his eyes, but still planted a boot on the tire and vaulted himself over the side, settling down across from her.
“You’re a pain in the ass you know.”
Monte smiled, “Yea, but that’s why you love me.”
Dean shook his head and smirked before finally chuckling.
Monte rocked to her knees and crawled over to him, straddling his legs.
His hands instinctively found their way to her waist and he growled low in his throat, deciding he was definitely liking the direction this was headed.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she whispered, pushing his leather jacket off his shoulders.
Oh yea, Dean was so on board with this plan.
She kissed him slowly, nibbling on his bottom lip as she made quick work of the button down shirt he was wearing under his jacket.
She groaned when she was only rewarded with a gray t-shirt.
“We gotta teach you how to wear less layers.”
He chuckled, running his fingers under the straps of the black tank top she was wearing, pushing them off her shoulders, before his hand splayed across her shoulder blades, bringing her towards his mouth.
Her fingers buried themselves in his hair as he kissed and sucked on her shoulder, blood blossoming to the surface of her skin.
“So, what? You stole a truck, drove us out to the middle of nowhere, just to get laid?” he murmured, trailing kisses up her neck before dragging her earlobe through his teeth.
“Yep,” she smiled, pulling back, “Always wanted to do it in the bed of a truck,” she shrugged.
He couldn’t help but grin, turning into a chuckle when she yanked on his belt, pulling his hips clear off the bed an inch or two.
“Oh ho ho, feisty are we?”
“Shut up and fuck me,” she whispered in his ear, nipping at his jaw line.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
She laughed as he picked her up easily, rearranging them to where she was laid out beneath him.
“Oh my god Garth!” she all but squealed as the radio station switched over to the next song.
She crab walked out from under him, forcing him to sit up.
He was about to yank her back underneath him until her front half disappeared back inside the cab, leaving her rear half at perfect viewing level, which of course resulted in a lecherous grin.
“Stop staring at my ass Winchester,” she laughed, turning up the volume before coming back out of the cab.
“You done now?”
“Yup, always loved Garth,” she grinned.
He rolled his eyes, refusing to admit that the song playing fit the two of them a little too well.
Cowboys and angels, leather and lace…
Salt of the Earth, meets heavenly grace…
Cowboys and angels, tested and tried…
It’s a long way to heaven…
And one hell of a ride
Before he could snap himself out of that train of though she yanked on his necklace, bringing his mouth crashing down upon hers.
“Seriously Dean,” she hissed against his lips, “Fantasy of mine…so stop thinking and just act…cowboy.”
He grinned again, pulling her shirt off before biting at her nipple through the fabric of her bra as he unclipped the closure in back.
She pushed him back when the fabric fell away and laid out on her back, popping open the button of her jeans, grinning as he managed to catch the drift and made short work of his own pants.
“I can’t believe,” he rumbled, kissing her roughly, “you stole some,” biting at her jaw, “random truck,” licking the hollow of her neck, “just to fulfill some kinky cowboy fantasy.”
“Oh honey, I ain’t shown you kinky yet.”
He had to arch his brow at that one.
She just smiled, yanking him back down into a kiss, wrapping her legs around him, bringing his hard length against her.
He groaned both from the friction and at the way she had just slammed him against her.
“Damn babe, relax.”
“Okay, seriously, either you need to shut the hell up and fuck me or we’re going to have some serious issues.”
“Yes dear,” he grinned.
Out of nowhere she slapped him.
“Ow! What the hell was that for?!”
“I said shut up!”
“Fine!”
She arched her brow, although she was grinning before he smashed his lips against hers, kissing her with all teeth and tongue and no reservations at all.
Her back arched like a bow against his hard muscle when he slammed into her with no preamble whatsoever.
“Oh god…”
“This what you want?” he groaned, ramming into her, “Hard and rough?”
Her heels dug into his back harshly as she rolled her own hips viciously, slamming back against him, causing a hitch in his breathing.
“What the hell did I say about talking?”
He yanked her arms above her head, pinning her wrists with one hand as he braced himself with the other, continuing the nonstop roll of his hips, watching himself slip in and out of her wetness, flesh slapping roughly against each other.
“Son of a bitch,” she hissed, arching against him again, feet slamming into the metal floor, bringing her hips at a frighteningly more pleasurable angle.
“Damn…Monte…” he gasped, letting go of her wrists, barely registering her whimper of disappointment at the loss as he continued his movements.
“Dean…”
“Right there with ya baby.”
She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to her, kissing him as her body shook with her release.
Dean made some sort or groaning scream that he would most certainly deny later as he felt her body quiver before clenching around him.
He continued to pound into her, using just a bit more force now that her body was so tight before letting himself go and shuddering through his own high.
He damn near collapsed on top of her, catching himself last minute, his elbows and forearms crashing against the hard metal of the truck.
“Damn baby…”
She chuckled softly under him, his necklace dangling down and resting between her heaving breasts.
“You gonna question me next time?”
“Hell no,” he smiled, finally slipping free, and sitting up, still gasping for breath.
He had to smile as she laid spread out against the cool metal of the truck bed, slowly bringing her breathing back to normal.
“You got any more fantasies I should know about?”
She grinned.
Previous: The Heat I See in Your Eyes | Next: Backseat Love
Highway to Hell Master Post
Cowboys and Angels
Chapter Wordcount: 1778
Rating: NC17
A/N: Title from "Cowboys and Angels" by Garth Brooks
“Come on Dean, walking two blocks isn’t gonna kill you.”
“No, no it won’t, but why the hell can’t we take the Impala?”
“Because we don’t need to take the Impala.”
Sam chuckled behind them, nose buried in a novel that Monte had bought for him at the last rest stop. He was actually enjoying it.
Dean turned and pointed a finger at his younger brother, “Shut it.”
By the time he turned back around Monte had her patented pout firmly in place.
Dean groaned, Sam and his puppy eyes and Monte and her pout, two things he could never turn down.
“Fine.”
Monte burst into a grin and yanked Dean out the door, damn near yanking his arm out of socket in the process.
Dean was halfway across the bar’s porch and towards the door when he noticed Monte, who had been the one begging and pleading for him to accompany her to said bar, had disappeared from behind him.
“Monte?”
When a couple of roughnecks pushed through the doors, eyeing him cautiously he smiled at them before shuffling away.
“Monte!” he hissed.
“What?” she whispered back, her head appearing for a moment between a couple cars before disappearing again.
“What the hell are you doing?” he rumbled, marching over to her.
“Nothing, watch my back.”
“Watch your…”
He leaned over her shoulder, seeing her working deftly with the lock pick he distinctly remembered being in his pocket, on the door of a pickup.
He patted his jacket down; frowning when he realized the lock pick was indeed from his own jacket.
“You lifted my lock pick off me?”
She threw a cocky grin over her shoulder as the door to the truck popped open.
“Get in,” she smiled, unlocking the passenger door before leaning over and hotwiring the truck.
“What?!”
“Dean, either shut up and get in or I’m leaving you here and I promise you, you are not going to be happy about that decision…not for weeks,” she glared.
His brow furrowed as his mouth worked silently trying to figure out what the hell she was up to when the growl of the engine started and she slammed the door in his face.
He had all of about two seconds to run around the front of the pickup and jump in before she jammed it in reverse and tore out of the parking lot.
At least five minutes later, five silent minutes of driving down equally as silent back roads, Dean finally piped up.
“Mind telling me what’s going through that cracked head of yours?”
He had to admit, the devious grin he received kind of creeped him out.
“You’ll see.”
“Why do I not feel good about this?”
She just chuckled before taking the truck off road and started driving through some open fields.
He had one hand on the dash, keeping him in his seat at the truck bounced and rocked over the uneven ground.
Finally after about another five minutes of driving, taking them so deep into the apparently vacant land that they could no longer see any of the surrounding roads, she pulled up along side a tree line and shut the truck off, leaving the radio playing softly on some country station.
She just looked over at him, mile wide grin.
His hand was still on the dash, the other on the seat beside him and he glanced out the windshield and side window before once again looking over at her.
“What?”
“Nothin,’” she grinned.
He squinted suspiciously.
“Christo.”
She busted out laughing.
“I’m not possessed Dean,” she grinned, sliding open the rear window before shimmying her way through to the bed of the truck.
Dean in no way, shape or form was staring at her ass as she did. Nope, not him.
Eying the window for a moment and quickly coming to the conclusion that there way no way in hell his shoulders, let alone the rest of him, was fitting through that hole he got out and walked around the side of the truck, crossing his arms across the side of the bed.
“You gonna clue me in yet?” he asked, Monte propped up against the opposite wheel well, toeing off her boots.
“Why don’t you join me and I’ll decide.”
He rolled his eyes, but still planted a boot on the tire and vaulted himself over the side, settling down across from her.
“You’re a pain in the ass you know.”
Monte smiled, “Yea, but that’s why you love me.”
Dean shook his head and smirked before finally chuckling.
Monte rocked to her knees and crawled over to him, straddling his legs.
His hands instinctively found their way to her waist and he growled low in his throat, deciding he was definitely liking the direction this was headed.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she whispered, pushing his leather jacket off his shoulders.
Oh yea, Dean was so on board with this plan.
She kissed him slowly, nibbling on his bottom lip as she made quick work of the button down shirt he was wearing under his jacket.
She groaned when she was only rewarded with a gray t-shirt.
“We gotta teach you how to wear less layers.”
He chuckled, running his fingers under the straps of the black tank top she was wearing, pushing them off her shoulders, before his hand splayed across her shoulder blades, bringing her towards his mouth.
Her fingers buried themselves in his hair as he kissed and sucked on her shoulder, blood blossoming to the surface of her skin.
“So, what? You stole a truck, drove us out to the middle of nowhere, just to get laid?” he murmured, trailing kisses up her neck before dragging her earlobe through his teeth.
“Yep,” she smiled, pulling back, “Always wanted to do it in the bed of a truck,” she shrugged.
He couldn’t help but grin, turning into a chuckle when she yanked on his belt, pulling his hips clear off the bed an inch or two.
“Oh ho ho, feisty are we?”
“Shut up and fuck me,” she whispered in his ear, nipping at his jaw line.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
She laughed as he picked her up easily, rearranging them to where she was laid out beneath him.
“Oh my god Garth!” she all but squealed as the radio station switched over to the next song.
She crab walked out from under him, forcing him to sit up.
He was about to yank her back underneath him until her front half disappeared back inside the cab, leaving her rear half at perfect viewing level, which of course resulted in a lecherous grin.
“Stop staring at my ass Winchester,” she laughed, turning up the volume before coming back out of the cab.
“You done now?”
“Yup, always loved Garth,” she grinned.
He rolled his eyes, refusing to admit that the song playing fit the two of them a little too well.
Cowboys and angels, leather and lace…
Salt of the Earth, meets heavenly grace…
Cowboys and angels, tested and tried…
It’s a long way to heaven…
And one hell of a ride
Before he could snap himself out of that train of though she yanked on his necklace, bringing his mouth crashing down upon hers.
“Seriously Dean,” she hissed against his lips, “Fantasy of mine…so stop thinking and just act…cowboy.”
He grinned again, pulling her shirt off before biting at her nipple through the fabric of her bra as he unclipped the closure in back.
She pushed him back when the fabric fell away and laid out on her back, popping open the button of her jeans, grinning as he managed to catch the drift and made short work of his own pants.
“I can’t believe,” he rumbled, kissing her roughly, “you stole some,” biting at her jaw, “random truck,” licking the hollow of her neck, “just to fulfill some kinky cowboy fantasy.”
“Oh honey, I ain’t shown you kinky yet.”
He had to arch his brow at that one.
She just smiled, yanking him back down into a kiss, wrapping her legs around him, bringing his hard length against her.
He groaned both from the friction and at the way she had just slammed him against her.
“Damn babe, relax.”
“Okay, seriously, either you need to shut the hell up and fuck me or we’re going to have some serious issues.”
“Yes dear,” he grinned.
Out of nowhere she slapped him.
“Ow! What the hell was that for?!”
“I said shut up!”
“Fine!”
She arched her brow, although she was grinning before he smashed his lips against hers, kissing her with all teeth and tongue and no reservations at all.
Her back arched like a bow against his hard muscle when he slammed into her with no preamble whatsoever.
“Oh god…”
“This what you want?” he groaned, ramming into her, “Hard and rough?”
Her heels dug into his back harshly as she rolled her own hips viciously, slamming back against him, causing a hitch in his breathing.
“What the hell did I say about talking?”
He yanked her arms above her head, pinning her wrists with one hand as he braced himself with the other, continuing the nonstop roll of his hips, watching himself slip in and out of her wetness, flesh slapping roughly against each other.
“Son of a bitch,” she hissed, arching against him again, feet slamming into the metal floor, bringing her hips at a frighteningly more pleasurable angle.
“Damn…Monte…” he gasped, letting go of her wrists, barely registering her whimper of disappointment at the loss as he continued his movements.
“Dean…”
“Right there with ya baby.”
She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to her, kissing him as her body shook with her release.
Dean made some sort or groaning scream that he would most certainly deny later as he felt her body quiver before clenching around him.
He continued to pound into her, using just a bit more force now that her body was so tight before letting himself go and shuddering through his own high.
He damn near collapsed on top of her, catching himself last minute, his elbows and forearms crashing against the hard metal of the truck.
“Damn baby…”
She chuckled softly under him, his necklace dangling down and resting between her heaving breasts.
“You gonna question me next time?”
“Hell no,” he smiled, finally slipping free, and sitting up, still gasping for breath.
He had to smile as she laid spread out against the cool metal of the truck bed, slowly bringing her breathing back to normal.
“You got any more fantasies I should know about?”
She grinned.
Previous: The Heat I See in Your Eyes | Next: Backseat Love
Highway to Hell Master Post