A Bet

by Bre

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or parts of this storyline. They belong to the brains of The Whedon and The Kripke.
Rating: M/FR21
Crossover: BtVS/SPN
Pairing: Buffy/Dean
Warning: Strong sexual content
Word Count: 2,787
Author's Notes: Using prompts from the dormant LJ Community 50_Smutlets. See the first story ("Damn Damned") for additional notes on this smutty series of ficlets. (Please keep in mind that I will tell you when a ficlet is in any way connected to another ficlet.)
Author's Notes 2: Thank you for the excellent response to this series! The reviews, follows and favorites really make my day!

Author's Notes 3: For the sake of this story, Buffy was just a Potential, never called in L.A. and she never made it to Sunnydale. She lives with her Watcher, Merrick, and works at Harvelle's as a waitress. Set somewhere in SPN S2.

Prompt: 033 Lips

Summary: Same 'verse as Story #1 and #7. Dean is in town for a few days and has reached Buffy's last nerve. She proposes a bet. (Day 2 of TwistedShorts August 2013 challenge)

Gunfire woke her.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Buffy Summers groaned, rolling over in bed, lurching off the side to her nightstand where she yanked the tiny alarm clock up to her face. It was barely nine in the morning and she didn't have to be at the bar until three that afternoon which meant sleepy time. Lots and lots of sleepy time, especially after staying up all night because she had this insatiable problem when it came to Dean Winchester.

Apparently being up this early was not as big a deal to that dumbass.

Rolling out of bed, Buffy yanked on a pair of sweats and a discarded t-shirt. She shoved her feet into her boots and stormed outside. The large wooden door busted up against the side of the warehouse space she shared with Merrick, the whoosh kicking up dust that followed her as she made her way to the dolt in her shooting range.

"Dean!"

More gunfire and the metallic sound of empty cans getting jazzed by the bullets. He was standing at the makeshift fence she and Merrick had set up for this very purpose - except it was for them to practice on. Not Dean. This was her training grounds since she was the one who was a Potential never taken to the Slayer status and she felt a strong prickle of anger that he had awoken her using it.

"Dean!"

He glanced over his shoulder, smiling his stupid smile. He was squinting in the early morning sun as Buffy came up. That frown turned upside down when Buffy yanked the gun from his hand, emptying the shells onto the ground with so much sass, she hoped he could taste it. And then she walked away without another word.

"Hey!" he shouted after her.

"No hey from you, jackass," Buffy bit out. "It's too damn early for this crap."

"I don't remember you being this bitchy in the morning," he said, sidling up next to her and Buffy stopped, turning to glare at him. She used the shotgun, still smoking from the rounds Dean had fired, to point at his face.

"It's nine o'clock in the goddamn morning and you're out here firing this thing like it's freaking Fourth of July." Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, not liking the smirk on his lips as she spoke. "And don't call me bitchy." She spun back to the warehouse.

"Okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry. Hey, slow down," Dean said, catching up. He got in her way, forcing her to sidestep him and Dean mirrored her movements.

"Jesus, Dean, I just want to get some sleep!" Buffy erupted, swinging the butt of the shotgun out to shove into his stomach but he caught it, yanking it right back out of her hands. The fact that he was laughing did nothing to help her mood and she made to grab the gun but he held it above her head.

"Dean…"

"How about this," Dean started, the amusement that saturated his tone so heavy that Buffy swung her fist out and into his shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?"

"That was for being a jerk, that's what that was for," Buffy growled, moving to step around him but he got in her away. Again. "I'm going to kill you."

"Okay, cool your little britches. I know how we can handle this," Dean replied, pushing her shoulder to turn her around towards the large tree next to the range. "How about you shoot all those cans back there and then I'll leave you alone."

Dean had decorated said tree with a multitude of cans, some obvious and others hidden behind branches and leaves.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You spent all morning planting cans on a tree just to annoy me?"

"Actually, most of those were already there which makes me think you are a super crappy shooter which means I'll win, which also means I get to do whatever I want to you." He winked at her.

Buffy stared at him, her eyes tracing the new lines that hadn't been on his face just a few hours before. Laugh lines. Lines of amusement. Rather, it looked like the lines of worry and stress he had been carrying when he arrived had gone on hiatus.

"What happened to the dour, sad Dean that drove in yesterday and refused to talk about anything other than Led Zeppelin?" Buffy asked sarcastically. "Did you get a lobotomy that I missed in the middle of the night?"

She didn't miss the quick frown or the way he glanced away before he covered it up, putting on a smile. For her. He was putting on a show for her. Despite herself, Buffy started feeling bad for snapping at him. And for pointing out the obvious fact that he carried a three-ton weight of bullshit on his shoulders and had a nasty habit of never sharing, no matter what she tried. Not that she was so good at the talking thing anyway.

Buffy let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine."

"That's the spirit."

"But," Buffy said, taking the shotgun when he handed it to her. "When I win, you have to do whatever I want." Dean mock rolled his eyes at her and she smiled innocently. "Which includes taking out the trash," she said, and Dean's face started to fall. "Cleaning up behind the bar, puling beer and…" Buffy leaned up on her toes, touching her lips to his. "You kiss me wherever and whenever I want."

Dean's eyebrows shot up as she turned, making a beeline for the tree. She stopped off at the fence where he had left the shotgun shells as well as two handguns. Propping the shotgun against a post, Buffy grabbed one of the guns and turned, barely pausing to aim, and fired. She hit six of the cans immediately, the sharp sound of the bullets stinging the cans as they flew through the air and hit the ground. Buffy turned for the other gun, setting the relieved one back at its station and turned back to the tree. She paused, finding the remaining three cans with her practiced eye, and raised the gun.

They were gone in quick succession, landing on the dusty ground with heavy plops.

"What the…" Dean said, coming up next to her as Buffy grinned.

"I set those up for Merrick," was all she said, putting the gun down and grabbing Dean's hand. "Come on."

"You cheated."

"You didn't ask," Buffy said, stopping and turning, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Now can you grab all that firewood by the front and bring it inside? I'll be in there with a few more chores."

"What-"

"It was your bet," Buffy said over her shoulder, turning to give Dean a quick and amused smile of her own before slipping back into the warehouse space. She heard Dean grumbling behind her before the door closed and she held it in place for a second then turned to examine the space. Upon their first arrival in town a few years back, she had immediately instituted the areas that would be the bedrooms and had built walls separating said spaces. The rest of the warehouse was mostly for training, with various weapons and punching bags and dummies lying about since Merrick insisted, "You might still get the call, Buffy, we must be ever vigilant."

He was being more vigilant than she was since he was currently off at some Watcher retreat thing, where a bunch of weird British guys probably stood around saying things like "old chap" and "jolly good" to each other.

Nothing out here could be used for what she had in mind. She heard the sound of wood pieces plunking together outside and she rushed back into her sanctioned off room, toeing her boots off and slipping out of her clothes. She heard the outer door to the warehouse open and Dean came in before the sound of wood slapping the ground next to their makeshift fireplace echoed in the large space. It sounded like he just dropped it into a heap.

"In here, Dean," she called out, moving back to the unmade bed. Lying back, naked as the day she was born, Buffy sprawled out, mussing up her hair before propping herself up on her elbow.

Buffy smiled when Dean stopped in the doorway, his jaw dropping. "Oh."

"You won't need your shirt for this," Buffy said and Dean immediately responded, yanking his t-shirt off and dropping it to the floor. He moved to unbutton his jeans but she stopped him. "No, those stay on." The way Dean's face fell again had her giggling and she sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed. "Come here."

Their fingers interlaced as Buffy tugged him closer, pressing her lips to his stomach before yanking on his hand. Dean got the message, kneeling between her legs, spreading them. The musky scent of her arousal filled the small space. Like a magnetic pull bringing them together, their lips found each other, the kiss soft. Buffy mewled against his lips before pulling back.

"Now kiss me here," she said, pointing to her collarbone.

Dean chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

His lips were wet and warm against her skin and Buffy inhaled quickly at the sensation already making her body feel tingly.

"Now here," she said, pointing to the top of her breast and Dean followed diligently, sucking a little harder on the skin there before Buffy leaned back onto her hand, pointing to her side. His lips brushed against her rib cage and she arched into his touch as his warm hands found purchase on her bare hips.

"Here," she said breathlessly, pointing to her nipple and Dean took it into his mouth, suckling it between his lips, grazing it with his teeth. Buffy let out a low keel, her head falling back, her hand winding through his hair. The air was cool and brisk when he pulled back, making her nipples harder. Buffy pointed to her abdomen. "Here."

Dean's lips grazed her lower stomach, taking it upon himself to brush his lips along her hip bone, giving her chills.

"Here," she said, pointing to her inner thigh, opening her legs wider as she scooted up on the bed, falling back on her elbow so she could keep him in sight. Dean's hands felt rough and delicious on her thighs as he lifted her leg, doing exactly as she asked. She felt his tongue dart out and Buffy closed her eyes.

"Now here," she said, pointing at the dusky curls between her legs and Dean brushed his nose against them, taking a deep breath before pulling back slightly.

"Where was that last one? I didn't quite catch it," he said and Buffy could hear the smirk in his voice. She looked down at where he sat crouched on the floor, one thigh up over his shoulder, the other pushed aside so she was spread open for him.

Buffy glared at him and he smiled glibly, nodding towards her exposed sex. Buffy pointed at the top of her mound. "Here." The arm holding her up tensed in anticipation as his lips pressed where she pointed before pulling back and Buffy pointed lower, at her lower lips. "Here."

Dean's lips pressed against her wet heat, pressing his face into her as his tongue darted out for a taste before pulling back again.

"Here," she said breathlessly, pointing at her little nub, her nails brushing against the hooded head and she jerked at the sensation before falling onto her back as Dean's lips circled it, sucking it in, his tongue massaging it with slow, gentle movements. Buffy's hands found the back of his head, her fingers diving into his hair, pushing his face further into her. "Dean…"

Dean didn't stop for more directions. He shoved his face between her legs, sucking her clit with long languid movements. He pulled back, swiping his tongue up and down her cleft, tasting her juices, feeling her swell under his tongue as he laved attention on her lower lips before focusing on her clit again. She jumped against his face, her nails digging into his scalp.

The sensations were overwhelming as his tongue worked her clit for long moments, pushing her back and forth from the brink. She felt her thighs quivering against his shoulders, his fingers kneading her hips, keeping her from thrusting up against him. She felt the tingling of her building orgasm in her toes, spreading up through her legs, his tongue moving faster.

"Don't stop," she whispered, shoving his head against her crotch as she ground on his face. "Don't stop… Dean, Dean…"

The orgasm came out of nowhere; it crashed through her body as her center exploded and Buffy arched her back, her shout filling the room, fisting his hair to hold him in place, riding the pleasure wave until she fell back in a boneless heap.

She felt the butterfly kisses on her inner thigh, bringing her back down, and she stretched her body, wrapping her legs around his shoulders.

"Here," she said, not opening her eyes, pointing to her nipple again. She felt him sliding up her body, felt his smile against her skin as he took her nipple between his lips. She felt the cooled wetness on his chin and a rush of womanly pride bombarded her, urging on the rekindling heat pooling in her stomach. Her breath hitched, his arms cradling her, pressing her against the mattress, letting her feel the hardness in his jeans. Buffy wrapped her legs around his hips as switched to her neglected nipple and she arched into his mouth.

Buffy's hand floated back down to her side. "Here," she said and she held her breath as he complied.

"Here," Buffy said, pointing at her shoulder, locking her legs around his back and thrusting up against the hard seam of his jeans, her slick juices soaking through the material. Everything was raw and sensitive, making the pleasure sting as she rotated her hips, pressing her clit against him. He moaned under his breath, thrusting his hips forward to meet her and a short cry fell from her lips.

"Here," Buffy replied, pointing back down at her hip and Dean hesitated. "Your bet," she reminded him , pushing his shoulders down. He slid his body down hers, their skin never parting and she hissed as she felt every bit of it between her legs before his lips touched her hip.

"Here," she said again, pointing at her clit.

"Again?" he asked, looking up at her and Buffy leaned up on her elbows to look at him.

"Who was the winner again?" she asked and Dean didn't waste a second, shoving his face back into place. It was anything but gentle this time as he nipped at her lips, the flesh swelling even more as he found her clit and sucked it harshly between his lips before letting it go again. Buffy cried out, arching into his mouth, thrusting up against him as she fought for purchase in the rumpled sheets.

She felt his finger dancing along her little slit, playing in the juices and she gasped his name, pleaded his name, and he thrust two strong fingers into her aching hole, her walls clenching wildly around them. Buffy thrust against him and Dean stayed still, letting her use him as she met his finger thrusts. He added a third finger, stiffening his tongue against her clit as she worked herself towards orgasm.

"Oh god," Buffy wailed, her hips moving faster before she let go; Buffy came with a soundless shout followed by a breathy cry. She felt her walls clenching Dean's fingers, trying to suck them in further, a rush of creamy heat covering his hand. "Oh my god."

"You can call me Dean," he joked. Buffy didn't have the energy to reply, trying to sit up and reach for him but falling short. He chuckled, taking her searching hand and climbing up her body again.

"Jeans," Buffy said, her eyes fluttering open and Dean had them gone in under a second, shoving them down his hips. Buffy opened her legs, cradling him as his hard member slid through her heady juices. She moaned, wrapping herself around him.

"You still have to take out the trash," Buffy said, her fingers finding purchase in his hair, her lips finding his earlobe. He grunted in response, sounding like he didn't hear a word as he pulled his hips back. Buffy pushed hers to meet him as the head of his penis teased her entrance.

"Yeah, we'll have to see about that," he said, thrusting into her.

The End