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
By the time Dean reached the kitchen, Eliza was bent over, digging through the refrigerator. His fed shirt hung on her like a dress that she didn’t bother buttoning all the way up or down and his boxers were rolled at the waist so many times, they were practically riding up her tight little ass.
“Nice outfit, sweetheart,” he said, walking into the room.
She stood triumphant with a slice of pizza and a beer. “Thanks,” she said, taking a bite of the cold pepperoni and cheese, looking him up and down, paying special attention to his bare torso. “You too.” She trailed her bottle from his collarbones to his navel, grinning up at him, leaving behind condensation and goose flesh then moved to the dining table.
He watched her hop up on the edge, legs swinging, and stick the slice of pizza between her teeth by the crust to free her hands so she could open the beer.
Dean shook his head loose of the returning fog of lust then grabbed a beer for himself, twisting the cap and tossing it to the garbage can. “Head back to Nebraska tomorrow?” he asked, straddling one of the stools at the table and taking a nice long swig of the cold brew. Eliza tore at the pizza with her teeth, sauce gathering at the corners of her mouth and congealed grease coating her fingers. She looked very pleased with the whole messy experience, and Dean found it unreasonably erotic.
Eliza shrugged. “I could use a little rest and regroup,” she answered, picking at the remaining crust of her midnight snack, licking the corners of her mouth, then taking another healthy gulp of beer. “But, you’re the boss.” She shrugged again, holding him with her warm, honey eyes.
Dean snorted. “Yeah, right,” he said, giving her a wry grin, sipping his beer and watching her closely. She suddenly looked very youthful and sweet, her bare feet swinging above the floor, her lips wiped clean of the red that he found so incredibly sexy in the interrogation room. Dean decided that simple, artless Eliza was as tantalizing as battle weary, scarlet red Eliza.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she said with a grin.
He finished his beer and set the empty bottle to the side, then reached for her bare knee. “C’mere.” Eliza had finished her pizza but still sipped her beer, letting him move her, holding his gaze as he turned her to face him. She rolled back to lie on the table, arms thrown wide, as he pulled her ass to the edge and his boxers from her body.
“Made you a promise,” Dean said, tossing the garment over his shoulder and blessing his shoulders with her strong, graceful legs. She sighed and smiled, rolling her head from one side to the other.
Once he had her where he wanted her, he went to work, scattering kisses to the insides of her thighs, hugging her hips with one arm then running a hand up her ribcage to pop open the one button she’d given any attention. He gently squeezed one breast, pulled the nipple, and pushed the fabric out of the way, before grazing back down her belly, under her hips and up between her legs.
“You’re good with your hands, Winchester,” Eliza rasped, starry-eyed, watching him from where she lay. She used her own hands, dragging them down her neck, cupping her breasts, squeezing, wishing his hands could be everywhere she wanted them to be at once. Dean spread her open with a thumb and finger to taste her and she gasped. “Oh, fuck, and that mouth.” She gritted her teeth.
He chuckled and licked and touched her. He loved her reactions, her words. She seemed so experienced and yet so easy to thrill. He loved the way she smelled – his own scent lingering – where he licked and sucked her. He slid a finger inside her just to see what she’d do and she squealed with delight, hugging his neck with her legs. His thumb brushed her clit and she moaned, writhing beneath him.
He was so hard, her sounds and the sight of her sprawled across his table was the most erotic thing he’d experienced in a long fucking time; which was saying a lot, considering she made herself come in his lap like she was riding a god damned mechanical bull not 20-minutes before.
He slid another finger inside her, twisting smoothly, and kept on her clit with his thumb, sliding around the outside, never pressing too hard or directly. He didn’t want her to come too soon, wanted it to last as long as she was doing what she was doing right then.
Eliza hummed – she loved that he was so in the moment. Even as frenzied as they’d been in his bedroom, he never seemed out of control, always relaxed, up for anything – and never stopped touching or kissing her. His tongue was a gift to mankind in so many ways, as he worked on her clit and when he was talking about it.
“You’re gettin’ my fingers and mouth so messy,” he licked from bottom to top, twisting and thrusting a third finger inside her and she pushed against his face. “You like that stretch? Or you want less?” He pulled back and she groaned. “More,” he nodded with a grin, slipping back inside. “Got it.”
When they heard the heavy metal, outer door to the bunker groan open and slam closed, Eliza’s eyes flew open and darted to Dean’s face. “We about to have an audience?” she asked.
Dean shook his head. “No way,” he said, never pulling his attention from her; instead doubling down with more force. “They know better.” Eliza groaned his name and her hands went to his hair, pulling and pushing, she was moving in time with his thrusts.
Dean could feel her trembling and vibrating around his fingers. He took her clit between his lips and pulled, tonguing her and fucking her with all he had. In seconds she was coming against his mouth and on his fingers, and Sam and Cas were coming down the hall.
Dean held one of her legs as the other dropped to his side, reaching behind for the boxers he’d discarded. He helped Eliza to a sitting position and to get the shorts back on, while she buttoned his shirt across her chest. Luckily, she was somewhat covered by the time Sam and Cas entered the kitchen, oblivious to their surroundings.
“Whoa,” Sam said, stopping in his tracks, Cas, slamming straight into his back.
“Sam,” Cas scolded, looking up from the book he was reading.
They each took in the scene in front of them. They had clearly walked in on something. Dean was shirtless and the unfamiliar girl wearing referenced shirt sat on the dining table facing his brother, her bare feet resting comfortably on his thighs.
“Hey,” Dean greeted, one hand on her bare knee. “How was Arizona?” he asked.
Sam’s eyes flicked to where Dean caressed her bare skin as he reluctantly gave him a quick debrief of the reconnaissance he and Cas had conducted. There was still no sign of Crowley and the demons he’d released were gaining power. People were dying.
“Um, how was Nebraska?” Sam asked. Castiel stared at the girl in the most spectacular display of puzzlement she’d ever witnessed. The whole scene made her laugh.
Dean shot her a look of amusement. “Shapeshifter hybrid in the wind,” he answered Sam. “Eliza, this is my brother Sam and our buddy Cas – he’s an angel of the lord. Sam and Cas, this is Eliza the lovely hunter of all things nasty.” Eliza nodded without a beat then reached behind herself for her discarded beer.
“I feel we may have interrupted something,” Cas said, and Eliza snorted.
“Not at all,” she replied sarcastically, tipping her head back for a drink of her beer.
“You totally did,” Dean confirmed, entranced by the liquid visibly sliding down her throat.
“Sorry,” Sam said, contrite. “We were kinda distracted when we came in.” Sam was fascinated by the woman in front of him and his brother’s reactions to her every move; it was like invisible strings connected them.
Dean nodded. “I need another beer,” he stood and crossed the room. “Anybody else?”
“Sure,” Sam answered.
“Bring it,” Eliza piped up, pulling her hair from the messy bun she’d created and combing her fingers through her tresses.
“I don’t drink beer,” Castiel stated, pointedly toward Eliza and she nodded in mock interest.
“I wouldn’t think so,” she said with a smirk.
Dean twisted the cap from one bottle and handed it to Eliza, repeating the action for Sam, then opening his own. He held up his bottle for a toast. “To never knowing what the fuck we’re doing,” Dean said and they all clinked bottles before taking long and slow sips.
“I’m going to the library,” Cas announced, leaving the room with the text in his hands.
“He’s…” Dean shrugged. “Cas.” Eliza nodded again with the mock interest.
“So,” Sam began hesitantly. “Are you from Nebraska, Eliza?”
“No,” she answered, curling a leg under her and Sam could see she was wearing a pair of Dean’s boxers in addition to the dress shirt. “Boston, originally, but these days I’m kinda all over the place.” She waved her hand and took another sip of beer.
Sam nodded in understanding. “I hear that,” he said. “After a while, those motels all start to look the same. A very short while.”
“No shit,” Dean said. “We got lucky finding this place for more reasons than research. It’s home base.”
“This place is wicked awesome.” She slid off the table to her feet and stretched until her back and hips popped. “I’m beat,” she announced. “Nice meetin’ ya, Sam,” she said before turning to Dean. “You comin’?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” he answered and she disappeared down the hall.
Once she was out of earshot, Sam turned to Dean. “Dude,” he said with a questioning look.
Dean shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.
“I mean, what… you brought her to the bunker.” He wasn’t accusing Dean of anything, necessarily, but he was very confused. The bunker wasn’t just their home base, it was a safe house. Not just anyone was welcome there.
“I know,” Dean replied, sipping his beer and giving his brother a look of caution. “Don’t worry. She’s cool.”
“Dean, I’m not worried, just… curious?”
“About?” Dean asked, challenging his brother with a look.
Sam paused, thinking. “What is she to you?” he asked, with genuine curiosity.
Dean drew in a breath before replying. “Sam, I’ve known her for all of four hours, ok?”
“But, she’s cool and no one should worry,” Sam stated rather than asked. “About anything.”
“Yeah,” Dean answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Exactly.”
Sam shook his head, trying to make sense of what was happening with his brother.
“Now, I’m gonna go to my room and bang the fuck outta the insanely hot chick in my bed,” Dean said with a grin. “’Night, Sammy.”
Sam blinked. “G’night.”
When Dean reached his bedroom, Eliza was sprawled diagonally across the bed. She’d taken his shirt off but still wore his boxers, rolled at the waist and bunched up between her legs.
“Never knew how hot my boxers were,” he muttered, closing and locking the door behind him. Dean set his beer on the nightstand, got rid of his pants, and crawled on all fours to reach for the one piece of fabric between them and pulled. Eliza arched her back and moaned.
“You’re insatiable, Winchester, and I love it.” She started to roll to her back, but he placed a hand in the center and pushed up.
“Relax,” he said, and she happily burrowed into the mattress. His hands stroked and squeezed intermittently like he was searching for something. He massaged her shoulders and arms, ran his hands down her sides, massaged her glutes, and ghosted his fingertips along the tender crease where her thighs met her ass.
She sighed. “You’re gonna ruin me.” She’d had a lot of sex, she’d even had a couple of relationships, but she’d never been with a man who touched her the way Dean Winchester touched her.
“That’s the plan.” His voice was deep and dark. “Ruin you.” He dipped his head to kiss her shoulder blade, settling between her legs, spreading her open with his knees. “Wreck you.” He pushed her hair out of the way and nipped at her neck and ear. “Destroy you.”
Eliza pushed her ass back into him and reached for his free hand, twining their fingers together. “That a promise?”
He pushed forward, his thick, hard cock sliding against her clit, planting a kiss on her shoulder then pushing himself to kneel. “You know it is.” He reached for the box of condoms in his nightstand. He’d never brought a woman there before, but it was wishful thinking. He picked a single condom out of the box and set the box aside, wasting no time in ridding himself of the foil package and rolling the latex over his length.
Meanwhile, Eliza had moved to all fours, stretching like a cat. She seemed to do that a lot and he wasn’t opposed to it. Dean placed a hand on her hip but didn’t move her. He just wanted to touch her. He reached over and grabbed a handful of her hair, twisting it around his wrist. Eliza fell to her forearms as he pushed in slowly, kneeling behind her. He rocked back and forth, working his way to the hilt. “Shit,” she breathed. “Do it.”
Dean tightened his grip in her hair, twisting tighter as he began to move out and back in again. He angled his hips down to hit that spot he’d found earlier – the one that made her squeak – and there it was again. He set a pace of shallow thrusts against that spot and her toes curled as she kicked the tops of her feet against the mattress. “Fuck,” she was gasping for air, her hands clawing at the blankets, taking everything he gave. “I can’t- Dean… fuck.”
He was relentless, pulling back farther but hitting that spot just as hard. “Can’t what? Tell me.” He breathed hard and heavy, feeling her frantically clamping around him.
“I’m coming so hard,” she sobbed into the bed, shaking. He kept his thrust at full force through her orgasm, losing his breath.
Once she’d stopped shaking so violently, he pushed her flat to the bed, pulled out and straddled her thighs. “You okay?” he asked and she nodded, boneless and breathless beneath him. “Good.” He shoved a pillow under her hips and pushed her legs together with his knees before sliding back inside her with a groan. He set an immediate and brutal pace, pushing full lengths at a time, gripping her shoulders for leverage. He was riding her much like she’d ridden him an hour before. “Liza,” he wanted her to come again. “Talk to me.”
She moaned and wiggled beneath him. “Baby, I’m so ruined. Don’t stop.”
Dean collapsed, bracing his forearms on either side of her head and burying his face in her neck. “Shit.” He picked up his pace and the bed shook beneath them. “I wanna feel you come again.”
She chuckled. “Good boys get what they want. Fuck.”
She was coming again and he couldn’t wait anymore. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” he called out loud, dropping his forehead to her temple. They were both out of breath again and covered in sweat.
Dean slowly lifted himself off of her and pulled out, taking care of the condom before rolling to his back. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered and Eliza crawled up to lay her head over his heart.
“I know, right?”
They both laughed and Dean worked the blankets around and from underneath them, annoyed and muttering expletives, so they didn’t have to move, covering them both as they drifted to sleep.
IncogNinja 