Warnings: angst, smut, corruption kink
Dean hadn't picked you up at the bar like he did most times for his lays, but the way he had you in his arms might as well have looked like a quick hard fix he needed, with the way he was so pent up.
The reasons for his angst weren't rough cases or exhaustion; it was sheer sexual frustration. And it was all you, all of it, having driven him mad with your tug and pull antics, ever since he drove into this god forsaken town.
Hell, he knew this was a bad idea, bad idea because he knew you were probably involved with whatever he was hunting but for the love of all good things he had never felt so alive.
He had you sprawled on your own kitchen table having pushed everything away and ripped at your clothes with such fervor it might have matched the thunder outside.
His eyes were dark with need when he lifted your skirt to sink into your heat over your clothed dampness, to inhale and suck at your soft mound. All this time you’d been catching your breath scrambling to balance yourself on the table and staring at the ceiling blinking away the drunk feeling crawling up inside you.
“Let’s help you out of these..” he spoke more to himself than you, helping yank your boots off so he could pry your panties off easily.
You reached out to hold his hands gripping your hips and he rose to give you a searing kiss, much more insatiable than the first.
Dean, who had slightly longer hair now and was no longer clean shaven, Dean, who was older and gruffer, and hadn't felt his insides burn like this since his younger days.
You let out soft sounds at the way he deepened the kiss as he had you completely at his mercy, and he could feel you tracing his arms and succumbing to desire, as if he was the sweetest poison you ever tasted.
Your hands fisted his shirt and he pulled away to stare at your swollen lips, a faint smirk plastered on his face as he led kisses lower down your neck leaving a wet trail, and then further down your collarbone.
“I’ll need you to hold this for me.” He spoke in a voice that sounded like a growl, filled with hunger. He handed you the bunched up hem of your skirt to keep it hoisted up, so he could feast without interruption.
You felt your heart hammer as you obeyed his order and shivered a little from anticipation. He nipped the insides of your thighs, never truly landing where you expected him to be at first. But he kept edging closer and closer and he’d glance over as if to make sure you witnessed him about to undo you.
He dipped in, his entire mouth latching immediately onto your heat, his tongue licking up a stripe of your sensitive nerves. You gripped the fabric of your skirt so tight you were scared you’d break a nail. The pressure of his tongue against your clit had you arch and squirm and he dragged you closer to the edge of the table to indulge in you better.
Your hand went up to cover your mouth instinctively as if you were scared someone might hear you despite the white noise of rain drowning out everything.
He kept lapping up at your slick and sucked on your bud and let out a low animalistic groan. His brows were furrowed and his fingers were pressing down harshly against your hip bone, they were sure to leave marks but he didn't stop as your voice came out in a broken string of cries clamping on nothing. He got you off on his tongue alone, eating you out with ferocity.
You resisted for a long time to have your hands do anything but grip the skirt but eventually you dropped it and instead they tangled in his hair as your legs threatened to close in on him but he pulled away just then, pupils all blown out and his beard covered in your arousal.
You winced at the ache of being pressed on a table and sat up a little feeling your throat parched. When he stood up over you to kiss you again, your inhibitions had been lowered as you kissed him like you were finally allowed to. As if you were held back by some invisible force before. He groaned into the kiss as you just held his face tasting yourself on his tongue and making those little sounds that drove him mad.
You were still shaking as if from the excitement of doing something you mentally forbade yourself to do for no apparent reason. You tried to fidget with his shirt button, it all felt sinful which was strange, you didn't have any religious background like that, so why was it that when you gave in, it felt as if your leash was finally released?
He wrapped your legs around him and pressed firmly against you and you gasped feeling him through his clothes. Your hand curiously trailed down past his shirt to the denim to touch him but he grabbed your wrist a little too fast, startling you.
Seeing your reaction when your eyes snapped back to him, he brought your hands to his lips, kissing your fingertips a lot more gently. That gesture made you look all soft and he could have sworn he saw hearts in your eyes.
He picked you up effortlessly and trudged to the bedroom dropping you on the bed. There had still been some light in the kitchen creating a warm dim ambience before but your room was shrouded in darkness, save for the occasional thunder’s flashing lights.
As you lay beneath him he pushed back on his knees to rid himself of his shirt, his slightly longer hair got disheveled in a way that made you want to run your hands through it and play.
He undid his pants, the clink of the buckle coming undone followed by the zipper. Sounds alone alluding to the inevitable that made your insides erupt in a flutter. And he kissed you again tongue and teeth and spit, never slowing down, making sure he branded you when he held you like a lifeline, his grip was so bruising you may have muffled a whimper.
A hunger so insatiable that it had your skin turn hot. You traced his own burning skin, exploring, as if allowing yourself to touch what was forbidden and he noticed it, permitted it, call it your salvation or corruption, he aided it completely. Slowing down letting his gaze follow where your fingers had traced. Those scars that made him inhale sharply, scars that told you stories and made you look at him in awe.
He held you in brute strength but his kisses turned tender for a second, planting gentler kisses on your cheek, the nose bridge, the temples, the jaw, behind your ear and then he slid your sweater over your head finally. His lips sensually sucked and bit against your lower lip as his calloused hands undid the bra that you pulled away all skittish.
He pulled away from the kiss and you whined softly in protest, he wanted to see you, to savor you, kneading your breasts. You felt yourself holding your breath feeling the roughness of his touch against yours that was unmarred. And he eventually as if to tease you tipped your chin up for you to look at him. Like he wanted you to see him for what he was about to do. The moment held for a beat before he dragged you closer and caged you in his arms and you kissed him with the fervor you had found not moments ago at the kitchen table.
The little sounds you made were going straight down to his crotch and he let his clothed dick grind against your bareness, just enjoying dragging out the foreplay.
He gave one last nip and kiss on your throat, thoroughly having marked you up as his pants were agonizingly aching now, a stain forming on one side.
He pulled back from you on the bed and gruffly ordered. “Take this off..” he meant your skirt and so you did shimmying it away, meanwhile he had gotten off the bed to free himself from its constraints.
Your hands still worked around discarding yourself all hesitant, never having been exposed in such a vulnerable way where you felt both shy but were aching with unbridled need. He made a soft amused sound seeing you rid the socks too, something about the way he could taint this unspoken innocence out of you, riled him up.
Seeing him bare and his tip all swollen and leaking made your face heat up and your heart race. Nervousness crashed inside you amidst the sea of raw desire and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together. He felt his ego get a rise seeing that reaction and held your face gently, lowering to your level, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek as if to reassure you.
“I won't hurt you, I promise…” he spoke with a gentle tone despite the gravel in his voice and you eventually wrapped your arms around him pulling him over you.
This was happening, it had happened eventually.., you wondered. All this after circling each other for weeks in this town that contradicted itself in every waking moment.
He assumed you were just someone existing in this ecosystem until he felt drawn to you. He knew you had secrets from the way you had him turned in for trespassing over some nameless property, from how he tried cornering you for answers but you swerved out of his questions every time.
Every tug and pull, every frustrated thought hurled at him by you, to drive him out of town only drew him into you, like a hound with a lead. Hell wasn't it Sam’s thing to go fucking around with the ones that belonged to the shadows? He knew you did too, belong to the shadows, he just couldn't prove it.
Except you looked so naive, sheltered for someone who managed to hold your own so well. Holding up a facade, making sure no one else figured you out, you still struggled in some ways when it came to emotional connections and human interactions. Something was so fundamentally off and he couldn’t place it.
That really only made him want you more though, thinking back to all those times he felt tensions arise in your spats. And thinking back on that memory, he finally pushed his length into you all the way. He groaned and cursed under his breath. Fuck. Feeling your walls so tight and needy the way you squirmed and arched your back, mewling in a way that felt so erotic.
“De…Dean..” You call out his name, saying it for the first time since he took you. He felt his cock twitch inside you as he kissed your knees and ran his hand down your thighs.
“Say it again…” He asked and you inhaled sharply, your hands gripping and clawing his taut muscles.
You instead mumbled his name incoherently as it mixed with a strained sound. “S’okay, you’re takin’ me so good,” he brushed your hair away from your face as he moved a little, pulling out just a little at first. Your face turned in his palms nuzzling it for comfort as your rapid breathing slowly eased just enough to be considered normal.
“You’re doin’ so good..” he kissed you slow and sweet, “So good for me sweetheart, so beautiful…” he rasped into the kiss. “Tell me if it hurts.”
And you closed your eyes for a moment. He had stilled inside you but kept kissing every exposed skin of yours, his tongue soothing over the marks he had left before. And then you felt your walls try to clamp and your hips bucked wanting more so he took it as a sign to pull out all the way before impaling you in, till the hilt.
His hips rolled with a practiced ease, pulling out and thrusting in you again, over and over. The sensation of him making you feel so full made your jaw go slack as you met his gaze and he kissed you again filthy and slow, fucking you languidly.
Dean didn't just take you that night, he corrupted you, manhandling you effortlessly, without harm of course, but just enough strength was used that he had you taking him again and again in different positions. You had whined and cried and clawed him in angry red lines as you kept pulling him closer, kept clinging and hanging on to him desperately, you had begged him for more and felt tears prick your eyes when he was drawing out the inevitable in a teasing manner.
At some point, he must have felt his own strength wane when he had your ankles dangle off his shoulder, toes curling as he moved in and out of your sopping pussy with wet squelching sounds and the sound of skin against skin when his balls slapped your ass.
His brows were knitted as he pounded you into the mattress where you lay wilted and flushed with his name being the only thing you cried into the night.
“That's it sweetheart keep singing for me.” he panted as his length dragged through your walls letting you feel every vein of his. The oversensitivity heightened everything so deliciously that it made your eyes roll into the back of your skull.
His hips snapped, pulling all the way out and slamming deep, shifting from fast to slow dragged thrusts. “Gonna cum for me again darlin’?” He drawled a little while you dragged your nails over the already angry marks you left on him before, making him hiss sharply. Your head lolled back and you pulled him closer to kiss him lazily. He pulled away just enough not to break eye contact and reached his hand to find your swollen clit rubbing tight circles on it and you practically bucked off the bed arching into him. Letting out sweet cries, all for his ears, as you came again that night while he kept pistoning into you until he found his own release, his breath all ragged and rough.
“Dean… De-Dean..” you kept calling out his name as you came, feeling that ripple in your muscles, and the way the wave felt in your ribs and lungs, it felt like you could breathe anew every time that happened. You were all fucked out, too out of it to make head or tail of anything, never before did you think you could get cock drunk but here you were shaking like a leaf from your orgasm as Dean’s rhythm got erratic and he came again just as loudly, stilling inside you, feeling your walls still fluttering around him.
The fog lifted as if post nut clarity hit him too hard and he stared down at you beneath him letting your legs fall off his shoulders immediately, his hands kneading your legs to comfort you seeing you so undone and like a mess, like a flower with petals strewn. He knew what he was doing, right?
You felt the shift in his eyes as if you could see the color in them finally, the soft green and you smiled at him completely wrecked. “Hey..hey sweetheart, you alright?” he asked his tone so tender you might have felt your heart physically swell and bloom with affection.
You honestly didn't know how to respond at first, this felt heavenly and you were out of words just catching your breath as he traced your sides. He laced his fingers with yours and brought them to his lips making you sigh oh so in love.
Fuck..shit this- this wasn't the plan. He thought to himself, but he couldn't let it show. He had let his emotions get to him so much that he might be letting his armor fall.
“Hey talk to me.” He urged a little propped on one arm and you finally snapped out of the magic that seemed to fill you so utterly full. “I am okay…, and you?” you asked caressing his face, loving how his rough beard felt under your touch, you brushed away a stray lock falling over his eyes, just admiring him.
“Yeah me too..” He smiled all sated and lay beside you in a slump, draping you over himself. You adjusted to rest against him and curled up reaching for the duvet, to cover both yourselves up.
By morning you found yourself very much sore and…alone. He wasn't there and you were at first just coming to and then partially relieved because you needed some time to yourself. The night replayed in your head making you squeeze your legs a little. But you also recalled everything building up to it and a part of you panicked, sitting up fully as if you just remembered something very important.
You shook your head as if to scold yourself, “No, no..” You were talking to yourself and then you just stared out the window at the dense forest, your anxiety creeping in slowly.
You didn't know where Dean was, and you didn't have his number either. He'd just snoop around town and hover around you whenever he could because he sensed you had the answers. You sensed that he knew you were it and maybe that’s why after fucking you raw he felt it was the best chance to have you out of his hair for a while. You had to make sure he hadn't gotten farther.
To be fair whatever spark had ignited last night between you two could not have been fake, whatever it was, it was real. The man had bored his eyes into your soul more times than you can count. Initially, they used to feel questioning, accusatory and then they turned primal and desire filled.
Your feet trudged along the familiar path of the woods as you kept thinking about everything and oddly about the chore to pick up everything that was tossed off the table…when he took you, it made you grumble, at the effect he had on you..even after you figured everything out.
You stopped only to have some water from your flask and looked around the surroundings. Trying to listen for any footsteps, any human chatter, anything. But nothing, it was safe right now so you continued.
You had crossed the threshold that most people in town had warned hikers about. Something about the cursed woods and how people don’t come out the other end, that they end up somewhere else in a perpetuity of woods, a never ending nightmare. But you knew this route, the only one of many that was the easiest that led you back…to safety.
You stood before a cavernous mouth amidst dense trees that made even broad daylight feel like dusk. You nervously looked around before hurrying inside as if hoping no one would see you enter.
The path was uneven and dangerous, one wrong step and you could cut yourself on the cave walls or twist your ankles on the uneven stones. You adjusted your bag over your shoulders and kept going until the walls grew narrower and narrower, not in size but because more and more boulders inside made the path smaller. The shadows made it look like a long narrowing death trap. But at the darkest and most farthest edge of what seemed like a dead end, was it.
You slipped through that shadow like a little critter disappearing in its nest.
It stayed pitch black for a good while but the path was clear, softer even under your feet, your hands touched the cave walls letting little mushrooms light up like night lights before dimming back within seconds.
There came an opening of an enormous cavernous space, some parts mossy grassy and others plain, a man made place for fire was made on one side, and above you were the snaking vines and willow leaf curtains hanging. It looked dense except sunlight managed to filter through it soft and calming.
You sighed loudly and stared ahead into the inner alcoves that were shrouded in an unnatural darkness and pursed your lips. You could sense them but it was better if they stayed undisturbed.
You held in your breath not wanting to disrupt them and walked ahead, muscle memory kicking in. You turned into a curved entrance in the wall and the view changed immediately, it was a cabin built inside an old sturdy unnaturally gnarled oak tree. The kind that could feel nightmarish from the outside, making the cabin look like some cult’s hideout
But inside it was as warm as, if not more than your little apartment in town, and right ahead of your eyeline through the window was the old fire watch tower. Your heart beat felt loud to you and you felt anxious, if Dean ever managed to get this far it would be over. It would become too ugly, too bloody, and maybe just maybe cost you way more than you could bargain for. Dean Winchester needed to be stopped.
