Summary: Dean stumbles upon another hunter so much like himself. When they’re connection grows inexplicably stronger, they find an answer they never thought existed.
Pairing: Dean x OFC (who looks and acts like Faith Lehane w/o the slayer powers)
Warnings: hand feeding, hair pulling, rough sex, ass play, no condoms, lap sitting, prostate massage, magical bond
xox: @glassjacket @boondoctorwho @cracksinthewalls @naughtygirlsarebest @fatestemptress @adoptdontshoppets @pisces-cutie @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @tumbler-tidbits
“Oh, my god, Dean…”
Dean’s twisted her and himself and the sheets into so many positions in the last few hours that Eliza doesn’t know which way is up anymore. She’s not even sure what day it is.
All she knows is that she’s face down on Dean Winchester’s memory foam and he’s taking her to a whole other level of fucking. Again. He pitches her hips so he’s hitting that spot hard and repeatedly and the sounds he’s making chill and thrill her.
“Guys?” Sam called to his research partners. “I think I got somethin’.”
Sam and Castiel had physically separated Dean and Eliza earlier in the day, Sam dragging Dean with him to one side of the library and Cas sitting Eliza down with her back to Dean and Sam. She tried flirting with Cas to distract and amuse herself and to see if she could make an angel blush. Flustered, yes; blushing, no.
When Castiel and Eliza joined Sam and Dean at the opposite end of the library, Eliza was immediately light-headed by what she assumed was the close proximity of Dean – or, rather, The Mark. Her hand immediately ran across the expanse of his shoulders over his denim shirt and without missing a beat, Dean twisted toward her and dragged her into his lap.
“So, get this,” Sam started. “Turns out Eliza’s branch of the Cain family tree may be an antidote.”
“Sonufabitch,” Dean grunts through gritted teeth as he pounds into her, straddling her thighs, keeping her tight as possible, pinning her to the mattress, meaty fingers digging into her ass and hips where he’s already left deep bruises, sweat dripping from his brow and pooling in the small of her back.
She’s come so many times in so many days – especially in these last hours – that she can’t even count and she’s utterly drained, emotionally and physically. These last few rounds, Eliza’s been passive as Dean takes her over and over. Biologically no man should be able to fuck this much, but magic is a powerful thing.
“An antidote,” Dean echoed, his hands roaming and searching her body where she sat in his lap. Eliza unthinkingly opened her legs and Dean’s hand slid up the inside as her hand massaged and scratched his scalp.
“Possible antidote,” Sam replied, clearly agitated by their persistent public display of affection. “I still don’t have all the pieces, but…”
Eliza shot Dean a look and Dean shrugged, never taking his hands off her. She had never heard that part of the equation before. She knew they were connected and that her ancestors had tried to keep an eye on Cain and The Mark, but no idea that they were a potential cure.
Eliza sighed. “I dunno, Sammy,” she shook her head. “If that shit‘s true, why wouldn’t I know about it?”
This moment is somewhere else in space and time, a gossamer curtain of desire and a singular drive toward that ultimate gratification divides them from reality, but she fears they’ll never really get there, or maybe it doesn’t exist.
“Baby,” her voice is barely a whisper. They’ve slept so little in the days they’ve known each other, only when they pass out from exhaustion; and Dean always wakes her up with his cock or fingers or tongue. “Lemme up.”
Sam sighed and shook his head. “Is there anything that sounds remotely familiar about what I’m saying?”
Eliza shook her head, her brow creasing as she glanced down at Dean. “I can’t think of anything,” she shrugged. “I’m really sorry.”
“S’ok,” Sam said, looking back at the text, defeated and worn, flipping pages in silence for a few moments before stopping and sitting bolt upright. “The Descendants’ Blade,” he mutters.
“What?” Cas asked, speaking up for the first time in several minutes. “What did you say?”
Dean’s thrusts stutter and slow. He’s painfully hard and the feeling of pulling out of her has him on the verge of sobbing. He rolls to his back, throws an arm across his eyes and grips his dick hard.
Eliza slowly rolls away from him with a groan. She can see Dean roughly jerk his cock with his tight fist. She takes a few moments to catch her breath before rolling back into his side, resting her head on his chest and running her small hand down over his belly to his groin.
“This blade,” Sam’s voice was suddenly revived and excited. He spun the book around to show the three on the other side of the table the image and the accompanying text. “Is it possible that-”
“That’s my blade,” Eliza said, sliding from Dean’s lap to stand, hands splayed on either side of the tome, scanning the page in disbelief. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “This is… holy shit.”
Dean peeked around her to study the page as well. “Damn, baby,” he said, his hand creeping up under the back of her tank top. “That’s a blade, all right.”
“Fuck,” his voice is hoarse and desperate. “I need…” Dean gasps when she wraps her hand around his hard length.
“I know, baby,” she says, stroking him slow and steady. Dean holds her close with one arm, letting his other hand fall open beside his head. “I’m gonna take care of you,” she whispers as she slides down his body until she’s between his thighs.
“It was my great-grandpop’s,” she spoke quietly, taking the seat next to Dean, bringing the book with her to study it further. “They said he forged it himself. This…” She looked up at Sam. “This says that… it was forged to sever The Mark?” Eliza was questioning reality more than her reading comprehension, but Sam nodded, anyway. “I… why wouldn’t they tell me?”
Dean reached for the book and pulled it out of her hands. He slid the book across the table to Sam with a pointed look. “Liza,” Dean said her name quietly, gently as he turned his seat to face her and leaned forward, taking her hands in his. “Baby, where’s the blade now?”
Eliza looked up at Dean, a pained expression marring her beautiful face. She took a deep breath. “In my jacket,” she answered simply. “I’ve had it the whole time.” The little crease between her brow was the bane of Dean’s existence, as far as he was concerned. He didn’t want her to be mad, sad, or scared, ever.
Eliza slides her hands along the insides of Dean’s thighs, pushing him open then gripping his hardened cock. “Stay open for me, baby,” she says, dipping her head to lick the underside of him from base to tip. Dean doesn’t hesitate – he lifts his legs and opens them by the backs of his knees.
And then she’s licking lower. She’s rubbing and spitting and then she’s pushing a finger inside him and swallowing his cock, ripping an animalistic, guttural moan from Dean’s lips. “Unnggg, fuck me,” Dean grunts and thrusts onto her finger. “More,” he gasps and his abdominal muscles are clenching wildly with each thrust.
Dean looked to Sam and Cas and Eliza followed his gaze. “Find out how we ‘sever The Mark’,” Dean told Sam. Sam nodded in agreement, flicking his gaze to Eliza’s troubled face. “Cas, find Crowley. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”
Castiel also nodded. “Dean,” he said, as Dean stood, bringing Eliza to her feet with him. “Perhaps you two should…” he paused. “Rest.”
“Way ahead of ya, Cas,” Dean replied clasping Eliza’s hand in his and heading for the dorm rooms. “Lemme know when ya find somethin’.”
Eliza pushes another finger inside him and angles them so she’s brushing his prostate, rough and slow. He fucks her throat deep and hard and she fucks his ass just as well.
Dean’s voice is unrecognizable, he’s muttering and whimpering and chanting. When Eliza pushes a third finger inside him and twists, he’s sobbing nonsense into the cool air of his bunker bedroom and coming on her tongue and down her throat, hot and salty.
When they reached Dean’s room, Eliza made a beeline for her jacket and immediately produced the blade. She examined it with suspicion and betrayal in her eyes, but also love, loyalty.
“That’s it, huh?” Dean asked, sitting on the edge of his bed not even an arm’s length from where she stood.
Eliza shot him a look and he threw his hands up in defense. “I didn’t mean that’s it like it’s nothin’,” he said. “I meant… never mind.” He shook his head and she went back to her inspection. “It’s a thing of beauty, is what it is,” he said and her face lit up with pride.
Eliza collapses over him and his breathing begins to steady. She lays her head over his heart and tangles their legs together. Within minutes he’s snoring softly and Eliza sighs.
It isn’t much longer before she’s fading into darkness with him.
“This’s gonna hafta be your choice, sweetheart,” Dean said, watching her closely. Her bloodline was tied to Cain from the beginning, but he didn’t want her to think that she was obliged to save him. “It’s your blade and your family’s legacy.” Dean shook his head. “Can’t factor me into this.”
Eliza looked into his eyes, that crease deep in her brow again and fire in her honey eyes. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now?” Dean was suddenly speechless. He sat up straight, ready to argue when he found the words, hands braced on his knees. “Winchester, we’re in this together whether we like it or not,” she said. “And to be honest, I like it.” She challenged him with a stare down.
Two beats passed and Dean cracked into a full grin and laugh, shaking his head. When he met her gaze again his eyes softened and she smiled, tilting her head. “I like it, too,” he said, their heated connection rolling to a boil in his belly. “Stow that thing and get over here.”
Eliza looked at her blade again, curiously. “Sure ya don’t wanna play with it a little?” She said waving the blade seductively under her nose, the low light in the room glinting off the sharp steel. She felt the pull of The Mark and there was something so erotic about his reaction to her blade, she wanted to push it a little.
Dean swallowed thickly. He really wanted to play with it, but… “Stow it, baby,” he repeated. “And get your ass over here.”
Eliza kept her eyes on Dean as she slid the blade back into its holster in her jacket then climbed over him on the bed.
The Descendants’ Blade (AKA the Jackal knife that Mayor Wilkins gave Faith in S3 of BTVS.)
IncogNinja 