rivers_bend

Title: Pretend you've lived this life before
Authors: lima_sierra and rivers_bend
Words: ~2200
Genre: Het, Angry sex, implied slash
Characters: Bela/Dean (implied Sam/Dean)
Spoilers: Set right smack dab in the middle of 3:06, so definitely for that episode
Disclaimer: If something just like this turned up on the DVD we wouldn't even consider suing. We might even pay you, if we had any money.
A/N: I had this plot bunny and mentioned it to lima_sierra and she said oooh, yes, and started writing and asked if I wanted to help and so I wrote some too, and here it is. Part one. (part two, with Sam/Dean, to come. It's almost finished.)
Summary: Much as all that righteous moralistic crap he spouts makes Bela want to laugh at him, Dean Winchester in a tuxedo is hitting all the right spots.


Part one


The stairs creak a little as Dean finally comes down. Shoes shined, trousers black, and Bela's about to make another crack about only women taking so long to dress when the rest of him comes into view. She's not sure there isn't a Bond theme playing somewhere. Damn. Much as all that righteous moralistic crap he spouts makes Bela want to laugh at him, Dean Winchester in a tuxedo is hitting all the right spots. If she ignores the grimace spoiling his beautifully sculpted face, he’s pretty much perfect. Not that she’ll ever tell him that. His ego is big enough, and one should never give away ones hand too early.

She takes a moment to admire the view. The planes of high cheekbones sit pretty under wide green eyes and pale lashes. Those lips that promise debauchery and sin. A masculine jaw adds balance to his femininity. Wide shoulders taper down to a trim waist and tight bottom hugged by expensive fabric. Later, she’ll make an effort to feel just how tight it is, but for now she’s happy just to look.

"We really should have angry sex." She doesn't actually mean to say it out loud, but it turns out her instincts were right as always. She enjoys watching him squirm under her gaze, even more than she expected to, but doesn’t miss the flare in his eyes when he thinks she isn’t looking. So easy. So predictable. SO hot in that tuxedo. Worth every penny.

The sex, which is almost certain to happen, will be dirty and hard if she has her way. And she usually does. The night is turning out to be even more interesting than she anticipated.

The brothers Winchester. Bela's always kept track on hunters—they have the best stuff, after all—but after that rabbit's foot debacle, she found every scrap on Sam and Dean she could. The file was now at least two inches thick. And as with all the best things in life, size wasn't even the most impressive part about it.

Watching Dean in the car, Bela wonders if he realizes how memorable he and his giant puppy of a brother are. It isn’t always possible to sort out fact from rumour, but if Sam looks half as good in his tuxedo as Dean, Bela finds herself hoping the most intriguing rumour in her file is true.

This one's courtesy of a teacher in Orlando. Bela had to meet a ship in Miami anyway, and it wasn't hard to stop and speak to the woman in person. Fortunately she was the type to let the Mojitos go to her tongue. The lady in question had enthused about two handsome young men who exorcised a demon from her best friend, and then hung around for more than just a thank you peck on the cheek.

Drawing Bela in close, she’d whispered about a wild threesome, blushing furiously as she spoke of how one had used his luscious cocksucker lips for their namesake action. Never seen anything as hot in her life apparently.

Bela wasn't sure she was ready to elevate Dean Winchester to hottest thing ever status, but the incest angle had piqued her curiosity, and she was a sucker for damaged boys.

Yes, definitely worth pursuing, once that damned hand was locked away in her buyer's safe.

Her mind firmly on the task at hand, puns are ok if you don't say them out loud, Bela nonetheless takes a moment to notice that Sam indeed looks the business in a tux. He has his hands full with dear old Gert, who just can't keep her hands to herself. Dean's flat out taking the piss and doesn't look jealous. Which could mean the rumour isn't true— though she hopes that's not the case—and could mean they don't care if the other one shags around. Of course, it could just mean that Dean doesn't take Gert as a threat. Sam's face makes that a likely scenario. But none of this is getting her a bag full of cash. Time to get to work.

Bela's not afraid to admit, to herself at least, that her fainting plan has more to recommend it than just getting them upstairs. When Dean picks her up and dumps her on the sofa, the almost certain sex becomes oh, yes, absolutely. It's almost too easy to needle Dean, pricking until he bristles and she can practically see him wanting to throw her up against the nearest wall. But first thing's first. All the teasing in the world about how dim he is isn't going to change what she knows from her file. Dean Winchester has the brains and the skills to get past the alarm and get that hand. It's not her fault he has some sort of intellectual inferiority complex. What kind of shot would she be if she didn't know how to hit a target?

When he comes back with the hand, Dean's cocky and in high spirits, but he's not stupid. He won't just give it to her. Which is just as well. Sticking around to fuck once she had it would go against the grain. And Bela is determined to get some of that ass.

It's easier than she expected to divert Dean from the ballroom to the deserted deck behind the museum, though she almost loses him when he catches sight of his precious brother being mauled by Gert. So maybe there is a bit of jealousy there. Not enough to stall him when she cups her palm over the bulge in his trousers and reminds that this is a one-time only offer, however. And when she says, "Looks like I picked the wrong brother," she has Dean right where she wants him. After all, there's not much point in angry sex if at least one of them isn't angry. Right now she's too amused for it to be her.

Dean is rough as he shoves her up against the wall, dragging her dress up her thigh with one hand as her back hits brick.

‘You bitch,’ he growls into her neck, mouth a hot brand on her skin.

Bela laughs and lifts her leg higher around his waist to pull him in so his cock is riding against her hip in short thrusts. So much potential in this one.

Her head drops onto his shoulder and she breathes in the reckless mix of salt and cologne and sex, letting it wash over and through her, informing her other senses. Intoxicating.

Then Dean kisses her. It’s angry and horny, his hands tangled tightly in her hair, pulling hard to test her limits, exposing the length of her throat to his teeth and lips. She lets him taste her there as her own slender fingers find him hard and wanting. He tries to stifle a moan as she grips him, rocks his hips forwards to meet her halfway as she strokes him through his pants.

‘No teasing,’ he says as he reaches for his zipper. He’s going commando, which surprises her a little. Cocky or hopeful? Bela settles on hopeful. After all, she’s way out of his league.

He’s blood-hot and full in her hand and all she can think is how good he’s going to feel inside her.

The hand-job is obviously doing the trick because suddenly Dean pulls her panties to one side and shoves two fingers deep while his thumb slides up to circle her clit. She’s already wet, buzzing from the power trip and the hostility that’s making the air hum and crackle around them, and tilts her pelvis up into the touch to get more friction, more pressure.

The smile against her mouth is pure smug.

Normally she’d play harder to get, have more attitude, but he has talented fingers, twisting inside to rub against ohgodrightthere, making her shiver, and honestly? Right now, she wouldn’t even be able to assemble letters into a coherent word, let alone speak, even if there were a million dollars depending on it. Two, maybe.

As his tongue slips deep against hers, another finger slides into her and she hisses at the burn.

‘Are you going to mess about with foreplay all night or are you going to fuck me?’ She manages to make it sound cocky even though she’s breathless and aching for him inside her.

Dean pulls back, a flare of arousal darkening his green eyes as his fingers rip through the soft lace of her panties. ‘Baby, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll—’

‘Easy, tiger,’ she says, pressing her palm against his chest. ‘I can’t argue with your line of thinking, but aren’t you forgetting something?’ Maybe he was stupider than she thought. He goes commando but doesn't bring a condom? Fortunately, she plans for every eventuality and has one right here. Pulling it out, she taps the foil wrapper against his nose.

Dean raises an eyebrow as she sheaths him and says, ‘Front pocket. You think I'd go bareback with someone like you?’ but he's obviously not holding a grudge because no sooner is he wrapped and ready to go, he’s sliding his hands under her dress again to grip her hips before thrusting deep inside her.

She can’t help but suck in a breath, clinging to his shoulders as she’s lifted off the ground, hard muscles and pride pinning her there with no effort at all.

For a few sweet seconds it’s nothing, just hot breath on skin and the sound of the sea and the tight clench of her around his cock, then he’s fucking her into the wall like it’s a war and he’s going to win whatever the cost.

‘God, you're easy. Wanted me to fuck you since you first set eyes on me, didn’t you.’ Dean’s voice is thick with arousal, low and resonant against her cheek, and the tingle it sets off goes straight to her pussy. Angry sex is her favourite kind. Sometimes she thinks she should have been a rodeo rider because you couldn’t beat the thrill of a hundred pounds or so of solid muscle between your thighs. One of her many talents, staying on top of the game. Whatever the game is.

Time to dig in the spurs on this particular stallion.

‘I would have preferred little brother Sam to fuck me of course,’ she says, syllables punctuated by breathy gasps as his thrusts border on painful. ‘With his height and those huge hands, I can’t help but wonder if everything else is in proportion.’

She smiles to herself as Dean fucks her harder in response, fury building. ‘But then you’d be the man to ask, right?’

That gets his attention. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

‘You and Sam. I hear you’re -’ she leans in to press wet lips against his ear, ‘very close.’

She hisses as his teeth sink into the slim ribbon of muscle in her neck. ‘Watch your mouth, bitch.’

The bite is encouragement enough that she’s hitting a nerve.

Wrapping a hand around the base of his skull, hair prickling under her palm, she whispers, ‘Do you fuck him like this?’ She knows she’s approaching the line of all lines but keeps pushing. ‘Or, no. I bet you let him fuck you, sacrificing yourself under him over and over, like you always do.’

This time he heaves her so hard against the wall that she’s momentarily winded.

‘Next time I’ll crack your fucking skull,’ he growls.

Bela mentally chalks up a win.

For a split second after that, Dean seems to lose his stride, distracted, but before she can comment, he’s back and more enthusiastic than before.

Hands that leave bruises, teeth that draw blood, nails that scratch lines of ownership on pale freckled skin, whispered obscenities and accusations and it’s all too much. Her orgasm builds from the pit of her stomach into rolling waves of fire scorching her skin from the inside out, sucking the oxygen from her lungs, freefalling into darkness and heat. Dean’s hips stutter as she contracts around him and she feels a warm pulse inside her as he comes.

Post-coital men are easy targets for just about any kind of con, so Bela takes the opportunity to slip the hand out of Dean’s jacket pocket and replaces it with the ship-in-a-bottle. As predicted, he’s too dazed to notice, and she takes great pleasure in the knowledge that she’s now conned him twice. Maybe he and Sam will have angry sex later when Dean discovers the loss… but she shakes that fantasy out of her head. She needs to think clearly, finish the job.

As he tucks himself in and she attends to her hair and dress, she sees a shadow slip out of her peripheral vision but by the time she diverts her gaze, there’s nothing there.

‘We’d better get back, rescue Sammy from that horny old lady,’ says Dean with a shrug.

‘Anything you say, darling.’ Bela winks and takes his arm as they head back to the museum.

Read On
crossposted to supernaturalfic sn_fic spn_freshblood spn_smut deanandbela spn_bela