Dark Side of Eden [ 1/? ]

2007-03-30T02:05:00Z

Chapter One: Wicked Garden
Pairing: Faith/Dean
Rating: R ? NC -17 ? ... Naughty things, you've been warned.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own them. Even if I'd enjoy it so.
Summary: Dean sees a Slayer in action and reaps the benefits of the aftermath.

This one was trouble. First glance and he could register at least that much. Reminded him of sin incarnate. All swagger, hips rocking inside those leather pants as she cut a straight path to the bar and orders a whiskey. My kinda girl. Came the hollow kind of echo in his head. Who wasn't his type of girl ? Blonde bimbos, college coeds-- it's a long list and best to just cut it short before his mind wandered.

But this one, he can see it when she swoops onto the stool like she owns the damn place. See it when she looks his way, a few places down, and grins. It's not just the tone of the muscles she reveals when she pulls off the jacket-- taunt and leaving him wondering just how well she can use them. It's not just the painted on red lipstick that has him curious as to how she'd taste after a few shots. It's the way she looks at him, sizin' him up like she already knows how this is gonna go down. It's the body language and reflection in those brown pools-- lust, will, recklessness... and a few tidbits he couldn't place.

Didn't care to at the moment anyway.

She downed the shot with ease, without that scorched face of bitter most chicks would show after it was done. An audible noise of amusement got her eyes on him again, which was exactly where he wanted them.

Lips curled, flashing that patented Winchester charm. "Need another, Sweetheart ?"

"Need a lot." She shot back without hesitation, voice full of truth and not so hidden innuendo. No idea graced her thought process to tell her who this guy was, but she never was shy. "And don't call me sweetheart."

It was the sort of afterthought that made him think there'd be real consequences if he ignored the demand. Somehow that made him want to repeat the mistake, bright eyed and mocking. But he only offered a half-hearted chuckle, noting the flint of something streak her before somber expression. It took him a moment to realize, which was absurd given his line of work.

Danger.

And suddenly things were more interesting than he'd been expecting. Despite what the look of surprise he covered would say, something told him this girl was his kind of dangerous. There was another moment of dual once overs and he dared to lift from his seat to settle on the one next to his fixation for the moment.

"Yeah, you look like you're ready for another." Without waiting for a confirmation, he motioned the bartender and slid one of the shot glasses her way when readied. "C'mon, Honey," he couldn't resist another pet name, "have a drink on me."

"Baby, I'm always ready." She snorted, abrupt, in that way that let him know she recognized the AC/DC lyric. Not entirely disapproving of his game, even if corny, she bottomed out the second round of whiskey, slamming the glass to the counter and letting anyone paying attention know the liquor had done its job. It had hit the right spot. Somethin' she was almost certain her new friend could do equally well.

Absent lick of her bottom lip, of which she could tell the male was jealous, and she bared teeth when mouth spread into a challenge. Unchanged demeanor, but he was left confused as she stood, starting for the exit in a saunter that had him aching in all the right places. "Comin', Stud ?" Query was tossed over her shoulder without an accompanying look.

Not yet, his mind chimed. "Hell yes." He tossed a bill and was out the door in a few ticks.

Door swung with a creak on his escape of smoke and dim lighting, leading him to darker surroundings with an unspoken promise of fleshly offenses. "Name's Dean Winchester, by the way, Sweetheart. You got a name ?" He questioned before they gained a few steps in retreat from the bar. He was a gentleman after all, didn't bed a woman without first knowing her name.

Another turn for her at grinning. Letting the nickname go unpunished this time for appreciation of his name. Winchester-- like the rifle. She laughed her entertainment, but didn't supply dialogue. He'd no doubt heard all the good lines before so there was no point.

"I'm-- Fuck !" Exasperated sigh of an announcement cut off her introduction when a noise not far away stole her glance.

He laughed now, not having caught on just yet. "That was the idea, Darlin'."

"Funny." She commented off-handedly, already inching away, sex suddenly taking the back burner to whatever it was that interested her. Arm raised limply, finger signifying a delay and for him to wait there as she dipped around the corner into the looming shadows.

Small parking lot was lit with one street lamp, near the road's tattered edge. Which wouldn't have been a problem if his mystery girl hadn't disappeared. Curiosity gnawed at reason, feet soon advancing in the same direction she had taken. Mouth opened to voice dismay when a body came flying through the air from around the building's side, nearly knocking into him.

"Son of a bitch !" Feet hurried him forward, about to express concern.

Scattered pleasantries and kindness died when the supposed victim growled its anger and sent a foot into Dean's stomach, making him stagger backwards and fall. The now recognized demon recovered before he did, on its feet and heading his way.

Prey and predator alike were distracted when a second beast stumbled out, screaming about his leg, which was broken, mangled bone protruding gruesomely from skin and torn jeans. Dean's eyes widened for a beat when he saw his bar patron follow, calm and not seeming the least bit out of place, given the circumstances. For some reason, oddly enough, that settled well over the oldest Winchester son, like a warm blanket on a winter night.

"Aw, c'mon.. you were so ready for a fight before. Don't disappoint now." She mocked, easily landing a stake in enemy's chest once it rushed her in anger.

"Slayer." Hissed the before projectile, losing all interest in the man only now regaining a stance. "I'll see you dead."

She laughed, shaking her head in doubt. "Dead or alive, men are all the same-- makin' promises they can't keep."

While Dean stood, weaponless with nothing to do but watch the developing story, he was rattled. Shocked, even. He'd never seen a vampire like this. The whole stake and dust bit was suppose to be the Hollywood cliche, not something on a hunter's experience list. Not to mention a hundred and fifteen pounds of female was kickin' some major demon ass without breaking a sweat. What was a Slayer anyway ? It was flirting with the boundary of his mind, like something he should know but didn't.

Time to think out the answers was put on pause as the two began exchanging blows. Thoroughly impressed by the way the girl dodged and delivered a fierce torrent of punches and kicks, he nodded, eyebrows lifting and somehow forgot the noble deed of offering his help. The monster recoiled, ending up on the ground and he thought that was the end of it. But this chick had a bit more violence in her. His mind immediately fell back to the word 'dangerous', now understanding why it had invaded his senses.

Foot swooped down low, catching the vampire in the stomach and propelling him through the air again. A loud crack of skull to brick only made her smirk with satisfaction before she was all business. With a grunt of effort, wood pierced flesh and heart, breaking the vampire's vow and leaving his dust to settle at her feet.

Slow roll of her neck to ease the tension and she turned back to him as if nothing had happened. "Name's Faith."

Slack-jawed and uncertain when she closed the distance, pinning him with an almost savage gaze. Hands met his chest and Dean stuttered in a look, a disbelieving protest to what had just happened before glancing back and forth between her and the pile of ash. "Damn, girlie ..How the Holy Hell did you do that ?"

"Just do. Kind of my job. I can explain later." Fingers curled loosely around his chin, dragging his attention down to her. "But first I'm gonna need some motivation."

Her hips were grinding into his before he could retort, drawing a groan of appreciation and killing further questions. Turned out, that was all she needed because the next thing he knew he was tasting whiskey and adrenaline. Gave him a tingle of brimstone and damnation, like he was making a deal with the Devil.

Mouths clamored together in warm struggle, licking and biting before tongues met and fought for dominance. Faith was the impatient type, feet leaving the ground with a push, legs wrapping around him tightly. He complied with the shift, hands drifting over curves to grip her ass and hold her weight.

"16." She mumbled against his lips and he started the short trek towards the motel, not having to ask what she meant. She was more than willing, and able, to give Dean what he was looking for, satisfying her own dirty needs in the process. But she was wet and this rev-up session was taking too long.

The trip was littered with gropes and fondles, four hands working over dips and muscles in fevered pace. Faith was caught up in the lack of romance, hand working lower until denim resistance slowed down her fun. Fingers worked between them to cup him roughly with one hand while the other busied itself with button and zipper. An impromptu signal for him to move his ass. He could only hiss in air, to her enjoyment, fumbling them to contact with the door.

"Tryin' to kill me, woman ?" He jokingly accused, managing to open his eyes through the storm of skin bound sensations.

She only pried free and stepped away long enough to unlock the room, dragging him inside by the shirt as soon as the bolt unlocked. A grunt released when he was pinned to the wall, her hands tearing said material clear and tossing it aside. "No backin' down now."

"Not a chance." Hands traced her hips, crashing his mouth down to hers again for another taste.

The kiss was feral, akin to the way she looked, and saturated, the way it got when you'd rather suffocate then come up for oxygen. Her fingers tangled in his hair and gave a tug, finally dragging apart before thumping him back against the wall harder with her hips.

"Fuck." It was just the right side of pain when her hands bruised his sides and he wasn't playing anymore. He was taking what he wanted and now.

Palms worked the muscle shirt upward, bringing a black lace bra into view, holding ample and inviting tits to confinement. Faith seemed amused by his eagerness, but she sure wasn't complaining. She'd gotten his jeans loose now and with one hand on either side she shoved them down, boxers in tow.

A gratuitous moan once the fabric cage had been eliminated, leaving only her hand around him to heighten the escape. It hindered the task of him peeling that leather down, but not for more than five seconds. Which was when he found her lack of matching panties, or any panties. "Oh, you are so my kinda woman."

She'd come to the conclusion that he talked too much, even if his hands were steadily mapping a detailed course across her thighs to offer a better, silent conversation. She didn't protest, only shut him up with her mouth, luring his tongue out and suckling the pink muscle to numbness.

An audible grunt from partner was heard when he switched their positions none too gently, pinning her with his weight. He had a sneaking suspicion that she could break free if she wanted. She didn't. And the fact that she liked what he was doing, liked the hardness of it in more ways than one, only fed ego and desire.

Hands curled around to her ass and lifted, bringing her up and around him. She was nipping at his jaw line when tip met slickness, nails digging his hip for more contact. Her ground out breath paired with his groan on entrance, working curves with a swift motion so he filled her fast.

She was panting out obscenities as they moved, one hand splayed to the wall behind her and the other on his shoulder. Faith didn't believe in easing in to anything, already driving down over his thrusts. Dean had to close his eyes and restrain from release right there. She was fucking tight and knew how to use her muscles, squeezing around his dick to make him work harder.

He buried himself into her with repetition and aggression, the way he was finding she preferred, breathing out gruff and gravel noises when she responded with bucks and silent pleads of her body. Wet noises of skin meeting in rapid pumps completed their soundtrack of perversion, the action banging her back into the wall with loud thuds. She moaned and twisted her hips, taking his assault and adding her own, wanton and unashamed. "C'mon, Winchester."

He mumbled something along the lines of praise, managing to get out every jarred syllable before her guttural cry of burned euphoria overtook the room. Walls spasmed and clenched to his length and he had to close his eyes against the spiral of rapture. Fingers and nails bit into his skin when she released, back bowed and legs closing tighter around him with a quiver. Her head fell back and his came forward, mouth working a moist trail of bites and suckles as he spilled his seed with the final penetrations of ecstasy, voice echoing her paradise.

Her back splayed on the wall, chest heaving, his arms blocked both sides as fists rested, aligned with either of her shoulders. Shaken breathing pattern beat down on her neck as he stood in the process of regaining composure. A jerk of her hips and he laughed out an aftershock of pleasure, finally pulling back and out of her.

She slid down his body, letting her feet touch carpet before smirking and dipping under his left arm. "Damn if that wasn't fun." She commended while walking to the nightstand and picking up a pack of cigarettes. It could be considered cheesy-- post coital, nude smoking. But she enjoyed the act and Dean was observing quietly from his leaned stance along the wall, no signs of a grievance.

"Didn't suck." He smiled, watching as she plopped to the mattress and puffed on the cancer stick. She obviously wasn't the kind of girl to bask in the afterglow of sex, but she sure looked good.

"Maybe next time." Relaxed gaze was focused on his nudity, eyes pointedly roaming features and distinguishing marks of the body. It wasn't her type of thing to get attached, form a bond and stick around. She was strictly the get some, get gone girl. But then, a second helping didn't necessarily mean anything.

Dean grinned, as if knowing already what she was thinking. "Get cocky if it helps, Tiger, but you've got about two minutes and we're goin' again." She flicked ashes and helped herself to another inhale.

He walked over, claimed the death device between two fingers and snubbed the tip out in the ashtray.

blood logic

Dark Side of Eden [ 1/? ]