scars and dust and dreaming
het & wincest
Coda of sorts to 4x11 Family Remains
Dean fucks her the only way he can stand, ass spread before him, panties pushed to the side, hand twisting in her hair, neck exposed and vulnerable to his teeth. He rides her rough, skin slapping and fingers bruising; every moan ripped from her mouth a symphony to his flesh.
He wants to brand her, hurt her, scar her and when she comes on his cock, penance is paid too soon. Pushing her away, he’ll wipe himself clean before leaving without a backward glance.
With giant strides he pretends to hold the memories and guilt at bay, concentrating on the ground beneath his feet as each step brings him closer to clarity.
The stars can’t fight the city lights and the cloudy, milky moon hanging low in the sky. Skin on fire, he’ll open the motel door craving the remembered burning. He’ll collide with Sam; push him down on the bed, mouth hot and wanting, still tasting of cunt.
Ignoring the flaming sword hanging above his head, he’ll pull Sam’s wrists above his head and trap them in his fist. Beating blood will pound in his ears and hands numb, he’ll fumble with buttons while chapped lips scrape against day old stubble. It’s been long, so fucking long since he’s felt human.
Absolution comes in one long drawn out whispered word against his throat.
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