Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2011-07-30 05:16 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2011-07-30 05:16 pm
Dean/Bela - pay me back in kind and reap just what you sow
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: pay me back in kind and reap just what you sow
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean Winchester/Bela Talbot
Content Warning: Spoilers through Season 4.
Summary: In which Dean and Bela’s relationship really doesn’t change all that much after Hell. Kinda.
Author’s Note: Written forrisingfire for the Five Acts meme. Because I can’t resist Dean/Bela if I tried.
Disclaimer: I don’t own. They belong to Kripke. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
Dean barely looks at her anymore, and for once, it’s his own fault.
It’s not something that Bela’s particularly proud of, but it’s an interesting addendum to the status quo. She’s used to Dean’s easy superiority, but after he’s the one who makes the mistake, after he’s the one who’s will breaks out of desperation, they’re on a different kind of playing field. They understand each other a little better, even if it doesn’t actually make anything easier.
They’ve been alive for almost a week. Bela’s barely accustomed to breathing again, but Dean is already three steps ahead, keeping them moving towards some end goal sitting in the forefront of his mind. It’s probably Sam, but Bela never asks, content to just let him leave. Considering she’s submitted enough to him already in the past ten years, she can handle letting him lead the way in the world where he has family, and she has no one. She’s not usually one to let herself fly blind, but she’s already died and left that person she used to be behind. It might be fun to see where the world takes her for once, and for all her spite of him, she trusts Dean.
If he marches her back down to the gates of Hell again, so be it.
She lets him choose the stops, choose the motels. She helps him get by through not so legal means. She does whatever he asks of her without question beyond a helpful dosage of snark. Each stop they make, she feels a little more human. She knows she’ll never make it out completely, but there’s less of that demon desperation, and she remembers what it’s like to feel again. The emotions sneak up on her, invisible and unwanted, but the more she feels, the closer he gets, and that’s not a gift horse she’s willing to look in the mouth. The closer he is, the less likely he is to leave her behind. It’s her largest fear at the moment, being alone, and she thinks it might be his as well. He never takes what isn’t offered, never pushes that line between them, but there’s tension on the edge of that line, and all it takes is one little push from her side to let it snap.
Problem is, closer they get to Sam, the more they fight. She knows Dean’s dirty little secret, and when his bright eyed little brother enters the scene again, there’s more on the line than just her being alone in the world. Angels, demons, the Apocalypse—the Winchesters are finding themselves in the middle of a maelstrom, and they’re the eye of the storm. If anything, Bela knows that being as close to that calm spot as possible is going to be the thing that keeps her alive and she now that she is, she wants to stay that way. Keeping herself connected becomes more of a struggle, especially now that Sam is at his brother’s ear, with the demon at his telling him not to trust her.
Bela has leverage, however, and given that she and Dean are destined to destroy each other, she knows she’s not going anywhere. She doesn’t mean to be a wedge, but in the end she is and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. When Sam disappears with Ruby night after night, she tries to get Dean to open his eyes, to find the old fight that he used to have with her, but there’s something about him now that’s broken beyond repair. Bela sees the playing field, and knows that whatever it is, he’s going to need it, and Sam won’t help him get it back. Sam’s too swollen on his own self-importance to notice it beyond something that means he should protect Dean more. Problem is, protecting Dean isn’t doing them any good. Protecting Dean isn’t going to fix their problem, but snapping him out of this will.
Even with that small bit of conviction, she didn’t intend for this.
He tastes like whiskey, smells like whiskey, a heavy odor that hangs in her nose and makes her want to gag, but she manages to swallow it down as he pins her to the wall of the motel room. He slams into her, hard, surrounding her in a heady mess that makes it hard to catch her breath and actually think. That’s probably what he’s trying to do—he makes a point of telling her repeatedly that she thinks too much—but at the same time it makes her feel like she’s drowning, and that’s not what she wants. She wants control, and slowly but surely she crawls her way to the surface shifting her arms a bit to shove him away from her, putting some distance between them so that she can breathe again.
The way he looks at her is feral, greedy, and not at all dissimilar to the way he used to look at her when he was looming over her in the pit. She isn’t sure if that part of him is worth waking up, but it’s what she needs in order to make sure they all live through this. If anything about Bela Talbot was certain, it is the fact that she is more than desperate to just live. Dean needs to be that desperate too.
In a second, the look is gone, replaced by the Dean that’s more human, but that hunger is still there underneath it. He moves in closer to her again, backing her up against the wall behind her, and not stopping until he forces her up on her toes, making her eye level with him.
“This is a bad idea.”
Her fingers trail up his shoulders as she speaks, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Since when is anything we do a good idea?”
His fingers grip tighter on her hip, pulling her closer until she could barely move without following his lead, each inch of him controlling her every move. His head dips to kiss her again, rough, needy and full of teeth, and there’s that fight in him again. He yanks her away from the wall, spinning her around and shoving her back towards the bed. She lands on her back hard, sucking in a hard inhale as he moves over her.
“Gonna regret this later?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, but the insistence on answering the question was still there. She can feel the tension building in her chest as he slides over her, exerts that power she knows he needs to find, but she’s not entirely willing to give. There isn’t a knife in his hand this time, and the moment promises to be enjoyable for both of them, but there’s still that edge of tension that runs up her body. Her spine follows the line of it, drawing her back up into a bow to press against him as her hands are pinned above her head.
“Let’s worry about that later, yeah?”
Title: pay me back in kind and reap just what you sow
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean Winchester/Bela Talbot
Content Warning: Spoilers through Season 4.
Summary: In which Dean and Bela’s relationship really doesn’t change all that much after Hell. Kinda.
Author’s Note: Written for
risingfire for the Five Acts meme. Because I can’t resist Dean/Bela if I tried.Disclaimer: I don’t own. They belong to Kripke. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
Dean barely looks at her anymore, and for once, it’s his own fault.
It’s not something that Bela’s particularly proud of, but it’s an interesting addendum to the status quo. She’s used to Dean’s easy superiority, but after he’s the one who makes the mistake, after he’s the one who’s will breaks out of desperation, they’re on a different kind of playing field. They understand each other a little better, even if it doesn’t actually make anything easier.
They’ve been alive for almost a week. Bela’s barely accustomed to breathing again, but Dean is already three steps ahead, keeping them moving towards some end goal sitting in the forefront of his mind. It’s probably Sam, but Bela never asks, content to just let him leave. Considering she’s submitted enough to him already in the past ten years, she can handle letting him lead the way in the world where he has family, and she has no one. She’s not usually one to let herself fly blind, but she’s already died and left that person she used to be behind. It might be fun to see where the world takes her for once, and for all her spite of him, she trusts Dean.
If he marches her back down to the gates of Hell again, so be it.
She lets him choose the stops, choose the motels. She helps him get by through not so legal means. She does whatever he asks of her without question beyond a helpful dosage of snark. Each stop they make, she feels a little more human. She knows she’ll never make it out completely, but there’s less of that demon desperation, and she remembers what it’s like to feel again. The emotions sneak up on her, invisible and unwanted, but the more she feels, the closer he gets, and that’s not a gift horse she’s willing to look in the mouth. The closer he is, the less likely he is to leave her behind. It’s her largest fear at the moment, being alone, and she thinks it might be his as well. He never takes what isn’t offered, never pushes that line between them, but there’s tension on the edge of that line, and all it takes is one little push from her side to let it snap.
Problem is, closer they get to Sam, the more they fight. She knows Dean’s dirty little secret, and when his bright eyed little brother enters the scene again, there’s more on the line than just her being alone in the world. Angels, demons, the Apocalypse—the Winchesters are finding themselves in the middle of a maelstrom, and they’re the eye of the storm. If anything, Bela knows that being as close to that calm spot as possible is going to be the thing that keeps her alive and she now that she is, she wants to stay that way. Keeping herself connected becomes more of a struggle, especially now that Sam is at his brother’s ear, with the demon at his telling him not to trust her.
Bela has leverage, however, and given that she and Dean are destined to destroy each other, she knows she’s not going anywhere. She doesn’t mean to be a wedge, but in the end she is and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. When Sam disappears with Ruby night after night, she tries to get Dean to open his eyes, to find the old fight that he used to have with her, but there’s something about him now that’s broken beyond repair. Bela sees the playing field, and knows that whatever it is, he’s going to need it, and Sam won’t help him get it back. Sam’s too swollen on his own self-importance to notice it beyond something that means he should protect Dean more. Problem is, protecting Dean isn’t doing them any good. Protecting Dean isn’t going to fix their problem, but snapping him out of this will.
Even with that small bit of conviction, she didn’t intend for this.
He tastes like whiskey, smells like whiskey, a heavy odor that hangs in her nose and makes her want to gag, but she manages to swallow it down as he pins her to the wall of the motel room. He slams into her, hard, surrounding her in a heady mess that makes it hard to catch her breath and actually think. That’s probably what he’s trying to do—he makes a point of telling her repeatedly that she thinks too much—but at the same time it makes her feel like she’s drowning, and that’s not what she wants. She wants control, and slowly but surely she crawls her way to the surface shifting her arms a bit to shove him away from her, putting some distance between them so that she can breathe again.
The way he looks at her is feral, greedy, and not at all dissimilar to the way he used to look at her when he was looming over her in the pit. She isn’t sure if that part of him is worth waking up, but it’s what she needs in order to make sure they all live through this. If anything about Bela Talbot was certain, it is the fact that she is more than desperate to just live. Dean needs to be that desperate too.
In a second, the look is gone, replaced by the Dean that’s more human, but that hunger is still there underneath it. He moves in closer to her again, backing her up against the wall behind her, and not stopping until he forces her up on her toes, making her eye level with him.
“This is a bad idea.”
Her fingers trail up his shoulders as she speaks, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Since when is anything we do a good idea?”
His fingers grip tighter on her hip, pulling her closer until she could barely move without following his lead, each inch of him controlling her every move. His head dips to kiss her again, rough, needy and full of teeth, and there’s that fight in him again. He yanks her away from the wall, spinning her around and shoving her back towards the bed. She lands on her back hard, sucking in a hard inhale as he moves over her.
“Gonna regret this later?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, but the insistence on answering the question was still there. She can feel the tension building in her chest as he slides over her, exerts that power she knows he needs to find, but she’s not entirely willing to give. There isn’t a knife in his hand this time, and the moment promises to be enjoyable for both of them, but there’s still that edge of tension that runs up her body. Her spine follows the line of it, drawing her back up into a bow to press against him as her hands are pinned above her head.
“Let’s worry about that later, yeah?”