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Dean watches her storm off, watches her blonde waves bounce behind her, pop off her back like they’re angry at him too. The shock starts to ebb, making room for the simmering anger that bubbles up just under his skin. He feels the pull in his jaw, as it holds the tension. How dare she hold something that his father did years ago against him? That’s not on him, that’s on his dad, on John. How dare she toss something else on his already-aching shoulders, something that’s not even in his control.She never should have gone on that hunt, he should have told Ellen the truth when she first called - it would have been highlysatisfying to watch her mother drag her off kicking and screaming, the brat that she is.He turns to Sam, who’s still perched on Baby’s hood, hands clasped between his knees. “Go fill her up for me, will ya?” Dean calls. “Be back in twenty?”Sam slides down over the grill, flicks his palms in question once he’s standing on his feet. “Twenty!” Dean shouts again, voice a little deeper, a little more firm, and he hopes his brother can see the urgency in eyes from the long stretch between them.The younger Winchester drops his hands, give a little shake of his head before turning back toward the car.At the sound of Baby’s rumbling start, Dean twists back toward Jo, who’s continuing her trek across the open field. He lets out a breath that’s almost a snarl. God. Even her gait is pissing him off.He starts after her, keeps his footfalls light on the grass, and he smiles dark at the realization that he’s on a hunt of his own.He’s approximately five yards behind her when she senses his presence, and he almost laughs at her clumsy little freeze-and-stumble as she turns.“Dean,” she breathes, surprised, a wisp of blonde flicking across her eyes. “I said go.” She works her jaw and swallows, eyes glazing over with a spark of unease.“Dean?”His blood doesn’t even feel like blood anymore, just searing rage pumping through his veins. His upper lip trembles, then curls up in a sneer.“You really are an entitled little shit aren’t ya?”She’s taken aback, then goes on the defense; jutting a slender hip while crossing her arms. “Excuse me?”Dean checks out then, fits his big hand against her throat, soft skin against rough fingers. “You wanna be a big, bad hunter, huh?” He rumbles low. “Think you’ve already got it? That Daddy just passed it on down to you?”“Dean-” she tries, clipped, fingers wrapped around his wide wrist.“Show me,” he says, head cocked a little. “Show me how tough y’are.”She’s making these wet little choking sounds, and god, it’s music to his ears.It’s just too easy to wrestle her to the ground, not that she really put up much of a fight anyway. He thinks it might be the obvious crush she has on him, thinks that maybe she really wants this.And hell, he does too.“Ya know,” he says as he wrenches off her jacket. “I warned ya, told ya you weren’t ready for this kinda gig yet. And look what happened. Got yourself caught.”He’s working at her jeans now, and she’s being good, being still for him. “What would you have done huh? If me n’ Sam hadn’t been there to save your sorry ass.” He sees her eyes pool at that. Good. She deserves it.She shows her spunk when he starts on her boots, tries to kick him in the face, but all he has to do is close his hands around her tiny ankles, and she stops.“Why?” she asks, voice cracked. “Why are you doing this?”The question actually makes him stop, fingers loosening their grip on her.“Because,” he says, voice chillingly light. “You deserve this. You need to learn a little lesson here. You won’t listen to your mom? Fine.” He smiles tight. “But I bet you’ll listen to me.”He quickly rids her of her shoes, tosses them behind him so he can peel her jeans off her pale legs. He decides to leave her shirt on, he’d really love to play with her tits, he thinks, but he’s on a time crunch here. Sam will be back soon.He loses his own jacket, Dad’s jacket - how fitting, and leans over her while he works his own pants open, pulls his swelling length free. He watches as her eyes catch, then widen.“You like?” he grins, eyes dark.“Dean,” she grits, gets up on her elbows. “Dean, what’s wrong with you?”“What’s wrong?” he echoes, voice dangerously low and thick with venom. “What’s wrong is that you’ve pushed me a littletoo far, Jo.” He leans further, presses his nose against hers. “What happened to your daddy ain’t on me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “But this?” He drops his hips, nudges up against her. “This is all on you.”She gasps when he pushes inside, falls to her back, head crushing the dry grass underneath her. Fuck, she’s tight, but so wet. She wants it, the slut, just like he knew she would.She gets her hands on his shoulders, tries to push him away, how fucking sad. But then her little fingers are scrunching into the cotton, jaw slackening as he splits her open.He huffs a laugh, breath shaky as he clenches up into her. It doesn’t take long for the hunter to find a rhythm, but it’s all wrong, the blissed-out expression on her soft face tells him as much. She’s enjoying this. And he just won’t have that.He goes crushingly flat against her, shoves his hand back against her narrow little throat, tightens his thick fingers.And then he ups his pace, thrusts into her so hard and deep that it almost hurts him.She cries out with every brutal snap of his hips, and god he hopes she can’t walk after this, can’t wait to watch her hobble back to the Roadhouse with his come soaking into her panties.He looks down when she starts up the choking sounds - her face is crimson, and purpling a little. She comes as soon as he releases her, clamps down and shakes around him. And then he’s coming, pulsing deep into her, and it feels like heaven.He watches his cock as he pulls out, watches the milky strings of come reluctantly break from her opening as he backs away.The Impala rolls back into view just as he pulls his jacket back on. She hasn’t moved from her spot on the grass, so he just shrugs, tosses her jacket over her.And heads back toward his brother and his Baby.