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
“So…” Eliza’s brow was fully creased in question as she glanced at the men surrounding her. “You’re friends. With the King of Hell.”
When Dean had told her who Crowley was and briefed her on their complicated history she had remained fairly indifferent. There wasn’t much that surprised her in her line of work. When the red-eyed demon showed up in the bunker library, however, she was slightly surprised at how at ease, almost chummy, they all were.
“I wouldn’t say friends,” Sam said with a cringe.
“Best friends,” Crowley asserted with an arched brow.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Crowley, do you have the crap we need or not?”
“So impatient, Squirrel,” Crowley chastised, producing a small bag from the inside pocket of his overcoat and dropping it to the table before turning to approach Eliza. “I haven’t even been properly introduced to the lovely new addition to Team Free Will.” He eyed Eliza with interest and she arched a brow. “She’s even prettier than you, Dean.” Crowley took her hand in his, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it, lingering, holding her gaze.
Eliza chuckled. “Smooth,” she said with a head tilt, openly checking him out. “Guess it’s no secret how you got to be king, huh?”
“Oh, darling, I could tell you stories,” Crowley smirked, still holding her hand.
“I bet,” she laughed.
“Okay, are you flirting? With Crowley?” Dean asked, incredulous. Then he held up his hands in surrender and shook his head. “Never mind, I don’t wanna know. Cas, double check that we have everything we need for the spell, would ya?”
The room was a flurry of movement, then – all but Crowley, who watched Eliza and Dean dance around one another, drawing each other in and touching light. He was curious about the girl, but even more curious about what she was to Dean and what Dean was to her. It was clear that there was something between them, and the thought of what it was exactly further piqued Crowley’s interest.
Dean linked his fingers with Eliza’s and pulled her into his side as he browsed the necessary texts to take with them. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear before latching onto its lobe with her teeth in a playful nip and sliding her hand under his t-shirt. Dean turned his face toward her and then they were kissing, abandoning their task at hand.
Crowley shot a look to Castiel and Sam, each of them looking downtrodden and helpless. Disbelief colored the demon’s face before he cleared his throat loudly, earning him the very edge of the couple’s attention.
“Darling,” Crowley called, hoping to distract Eliza’s from Dean, and it worked. He gave her a placating smile as he crafted his next words. “As much as I’d love to be front and center for you and your boy toy’s live sex show, we haven’t the time.”
Eliza shifted uncomfortably, and Dean dropped his hand from where it was gripping Eliza’s elbow, none too lightly. “Watch your mouth,” Dean growled.
“For the love of my hounds, am I the only one in this room who respects the physics of time?”
“I’m not arguing,” Castiel replied, garnering looks to kill from Dean and Eliza and an eye roll from Sam.
Dean set his eyes back on his companion. “I hate to agree with this pompous pile of dicks, but,” he hesitated, regret clouding his eyes as they focused on hers. “At least three of the ingredients for this spell have a shelf life of, like, 12 hours. We gotta get movin’.”
Eliza sighed and nodded, then shot Crowley a scowl as if it was his fault that they had such little time. To that, Crowley responded with an indignant huff.
“I’ll pack up,” Sam said, getting the team back on track. “Eliza, wanna help?”
Eliza reluctantly dragged her gaze from Dean’s movements to meet Sam’s eyes. “Yeah,” she replied, nodding slowly, looking a bit dazed. “Sure, yeah.”
Dean pulled her in for a quick kiss to her temple, then. “I’m gonna get Baby ready for the trip,” he muttered before releasing her and shooting Crowley a nasty look.
Crowley smirked then turned his attention to Eliza and the younger Winchester as they packed books and the spell ingredients. Once they’d carefully zipped the packed bag shut and it was set aside, Sam announced that he was going to pack his bag and check on Dean, leaving Eliza and Crowley alone, but for Castiel who was re-reading about the Descendent Blade, ensuring they hadn’t missed anything.
Assured that Castiel was sufficiently distracted, Crowley crossed the room and focused on Eliza once again. “What is it with you two?” he asked quietly, leaning against the bookshelf in front of her.
Eliza didn’t answer right away, but he could see that she heard the question. She seemed to be weighing her answer carefully. “The Mark,” Eliza answered simply, keeping her voice low to match his, and her eyes on her hands as she shelved the volumes they’d decided to leave behind.
Crowley tilted his head and continued to study her. “You’re a descendant?” he wondered aloud, and she nodded slowly, her shoulders tensing slightly. There was more, so he attempted to fill in the blanks. “You’re of the descendants.”
Her eyes flicked to the side to briefly meet his. “You know?” she asked, hazarding a glance at Castiel. “About the antidote?”
Crowley shook his head in answer. She wasn’t sure if she should believe him – not that it mattered now that they finally knew and had a plan. “I’ve only ever heard rumblings of a possible line of descendants who could – maybe – somehow reverse the Mark’s effects on its bearer.”
She turned to face him fully and crossed her arms over her chest. “That woulda been good information to have like a week ago.”
Crowley shrugged and stood straight to meet her eyes. “How was I to know?”
“You weren’t,” she sighed. “You couldn’t – never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
He narrowed his eyes and she squirmed. He watched her busy her hands again with the books and the facts were clear, but he liked to peel the onion slowly.
“Your mere presence calms the incessant pull and burn of the Mark,” he said, and she nodded in agreement. “And,” he leaned back against the pillar, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’d venture to guess that your… touch does even more to soothe his quandary.”
Eliza stopped what she was doing, sighed heavily and peered up at the ceiling. “That’s about the size of it, Sparky.” She turned her gaze on him again, and surprisingly found something close to compassion.
“You’re in love with him,” Crowley stared into her eyes, and she flinched, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she shrugged.
“Overrated emotion, if you ask me,” she said, remaining aloof.
“Well,” Crowley paused, studying her further. “Take care that your… emotions don’t get the better of you, love.” She held his gaze. “We’re all invested in this operation.”
After a few beats, Eliza pursed her lips and nodded. “Copy that,” she answered then turned on her heels and left the room.
Eliza was relieved that Crowley didn’t ride with them to the farm. His keen observations had her squirming in her boots and she didn’t like it. She had feelings for Dean, there was no denying that, but there was no sense in discussing or exploring it. Once they killed Cain, she was gone – end of story.
When they reached their destination, they climbed out of the Impala as Crowley appeared from thin air. Eliza wondered what Crowley had to gain from knowing about her feelings for Dean. She had to focus on Cain first and foremost, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have an eye on Crowley.
“Liza, you and me’ll take the perimeter,” Dean said, checking his pocket for the Blade just as Eliza checked for her own. “Sammy, you and these two get the spell ready.” Dean didn’t really need to check for the Blade – he was glaringly aware of its location at all times – but the habit was a comfort of sorts.
“On it,” Sam answered, already organizing his supplies.
Dean nodded and turned to head toward the barn with Eliza at his side.
“Crowley knows more than he’s tellin’ us,” Eliza spoke abruptly but quietly. Waiting to tell Dean her discovery about Crowley was grueling, but she hadn’t wanted to alarm the rest of the group with the knowledge she’d gleaned earlier in the afternoon.
“How d’you know?” Dean asked without missing a beat.
“He knew about the antidote in my bloodline,” she answered, and Dean shot her an arched eyebrow. “He told me.” Dean nodded and came to a stop then turned to look down at her fully. “He’s also real curious about you and me.”
Dean scoffed at that. “Yeah, well,” he pulled a wry smirk. “Crowley’s always been a lot more interested in what I do with my dick that he should be.”
Eliza laughed. “Why does that not surprise me?”
Dean quickly scanned their surroundings. “Okay, we’ll talk more about this after.” They each nodded with deep breaths. “Let’s take this fucker down so we can celebrate later.” He smiled at her and winked, and she grinned. “Just like we talked about.”
“Let’s do it,” she said and they parted ways.
Eliza rounded the back of the barn scanning and ensuring the perimeter was secure before scaling the side of the building and rolling into the hayloft. She scurried through the rafters until she could hear Dean and Cain below her. Dean was confronting Cain, and she could feel the tension from several feet above them.
When they began to fight, Eliza sent up a silent prayer for strength and focus. She watched and listened as Cain told Dean that it was no use to fight the pull of the Mark. He told Dean that there was no cure, and she could tell that Cain was lying through his teeth.
She felt his malintent and the war in Dean’s mind and fought to endure that war as both tore at her. As Cain’s words shredded Dean’s psyche, she felt it in her soul. Cain’s telekinetic power and his supernatural strength were unaffected by the Devil’s Trap, but Eliza was able to remain behind the veil that hid her presence from him.
Just when Cain had Dean on his knees and was about to deal the killing blow, Eliza dropped from the rafters, knocking Cain aside and Dean prone in a bed of hay and dust. Eliza threw a roundhouse kick to Cain’s face and he fell to the ground, sliding through the debris. Then she straddled him, raised her blade high in the air, and sunk the blade alongside his sternum straight through his heart.
Out of all the times he’d been inside her, he’d never really felt her. They’d had a mystical connection that had intensified with every stroke, every breath, every nip and lick. That connection had become its own entity, overshadowing who he was and who she was, redefining reality in a way that he had come to rely on as his new normal.
“Fuck,” she whispered as her back arched, pressing her soft breasts into his chest. He was above her, looking down on her as if it were the first time he’d seen her or touched her; that thought couldn’t be further from the truth and the fact of it broke him a little bit.
He’d spent seven days with her, inside her, tasting her, fucking her every possible way known to man – and demon. Yet it was that sliver of a moment, watching her take down Cain, graceful as a lioness and her prey, that gave him the full picture of who she really was. She was a woman in her own right, whole and courageous, full of passion and strength, and god, she was beautiful.
“Dean,” she breathed, her honey eyes dark with want and longing.
He pressed his lips to her throat, open and wet, pushed up onto his hands and slowly slid inside her. He sighed loud and long, dropping his forehead to hers as she brought her legs up around his hips. “This’s real, right here,” he whispered, waiting for her eyes, then holding her gaze until she nodded in agreement, her brow beginning to crease. He shook his head and dipped in to kiss the frustration away for them both.
They’d killed Cain, the Mark was vanquished, and the magical amplification of their connection languished accordingly. Crowley had watched with undisguised fascination when Eliza dragged Dean’s limp form from the barn, the previously more than obvious heady charge between them dwindling, leaving behind simple care and concern. Dean was satisfied that Crowley’s interest in he and Eliza’s relationship was benign, if annoying as fuck.
Dean moved in and out and around, and Eliza gripped his shoulders, licking inside his mouth and pulling his soft, curved top lip between her own full lips. Neither of them was going to let go easily. Just because The Mark had been severed didn’t mean they were immune to each other; it didn’t mean they could just forget.
It took longer for her to come, longer than the ever-looming orgasms he’d grown used to feeling from her, but he wouldn’t argue because it felt good just to really feel her. There was a layer removed, giving him access to all of her – her unique smell, her taste, every change in her pitch and tone along the way – and it was almost too much.
Yet, the sounds and movements she made when she finally came spurred him on. He wanted to hear more, wanted to give and take more.
Once her breathing steadied, he pulled out of her body. He was hard and wanting, but no longer drowning in the painful, maddening need he’d had so desperately mere hours before. He slowly slid down her body, memorizing every inch and curve until he was at her feet, sitting back on his own, stroking her skin and listening to her sighs.
“You’re too far away, Winchester,” she said, sounding wistful, reaching for him.
Dean took her hand in one of his and with the other he clasped his fingers around one ankle, lifting it to kiss her arch, the top of her foot, her ankle, her shin, knee, the inside of her thigh. He hovered over her cunt, that leg draping his shoulder as he braced his weight on his forearms and kissed and licked her soft belly. His mouth wandered down and down until he could lick her where she was wet and smelled like sex – hers and his.
His tongue was flat but firm against her damp skin and along her slit. He pushed his legs out behind him, feet dangling off the foot of the bed, her hips cradled in his hands so he could savor her. He took it slow and easy, licking her skin, kissing the tender insides of her thighs, dipping his tongue inside her cunt on each pass.
She rested her feet on his shoulders, and he kept her lips spread with his thumbs, his thick fingertips tipping her pelvis at just the right angle for his access. He moaned and sighed into her, latching onto her clit with his full lips as he snaked one big hand from under her to press over her lower belly and finger her clit. He shouldered her thigh then thrust his thick tongue inside her.
“Shit,” she huffed, breathlessly as he fucked her with his tongue, his teeth scraping over her clit. She pushed up into his mouth and gripped his closely cropped hair with her fingers, sliding her other hand behind his head, fingering the fine hair at the nape of his neck. He hissed when she twisted the soft, dark blonde tuft on top of his head and blew puffs of air across her wet, sensitive skin. His gaze flicked up to see her smiling, eyes rolled back, and neck arched.
He had her right on the edge again but backed off. Splaying his hand over her belly and letting her hips down onto the bed. She wasn’t meek or mild, she wasn’t a delicate flower, but Dean wanted to be sure that nothing would ever hurt her.
“Look at me,” he said, and she did. He held her dark eyes with his, slowly stroking the curve of her belly with one hand. “You ever need anything. At all.” He gave her a pointed look as he dropped his lips to her wet slit for a kiss.
Eliza drew a shaky breath and nodded. “You too,” she said, closing her eyes when he returned to his ministrations with greater intensity. He pushed her legs up and open wide to lick her from ass to clit, circling then dipping inside her cunt, sealing his lips around her and sucking. “Dean,” she whispered.
He held her open, his fingers wrapped around the backs of her knees, pressing them to the mattress on either side of her torso, and Eliza stretched her arms above her head, doing that cat stretch he’d come to know and appreciate. She really was the embodiment of sex – but that wasn’t the only reason he’d miss her.
He made her come again, this time on his tongue, then pulled her up by her wrist, settled back on his haunches and helped her to straddle his lap. “I’m gonna miss this cock, that’s for sure,” she said with a grin, guiding him inside and bracing herself on her knees.
Then he snagged her eyes and they sat silent and still for a moment. “I’ll miss you,” she said, cradling his jaw in her hands.
Dean nuzzled into one of her palms and closed his eyes. “Me too,” he said, and she began to move.
The door to the Uber slammed shut and the car rolled away from Sam and Dean. Sam silently pondered what had transpired overnight between the departing female hunter and his brother – other than the obvious.
“We got each other on speed dial,” Dean broke the silence, a distant smile playing on his lips.
Sam’s own lips twisted into a soft smile as he watched his brother wave goodbye to another woman he surely loved. “And if she calls?” Sam asked, having a feeling he knew the answer.
Dean shrugged. “Cas’ll beam me to Boston,” Dean answered plainly, catching Sam’s eye before turning to walk to the Impala.
Sam stood and watched the car that carried Eliza away until he couldn’t watch it anymore, wondering if they would ever have a life approaching normal.
IncogNinja 