FIC: "But I'm Winning" - Rogue/Dean Winchester - NC-17
Title: But I'm Winning
Fandom: X-Men (Movie)/Supernatural
Author: deep_salt_water
Pairing/Character: Rogue/Dean Winchester
Word Count: 2773
Disclaimer: The X-Men aren’t mine; they belong to Marvel and 20th Century Fox. Supernatural belongs to Kripke.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Dean returns to Xavier's to say goodbye.
Placement: Before SPN 3.13 - 'Ghostfacers', and post-X3 for Rogue.
Spoilers/Warnings: Season 3 of Supernatural. Nothing past 3.13 though.
A/N: Written as a birthday present for feeferj, and because Rogue/Dean needed to be done. Again. Also much love and naked Jensen to evenasiwander for the title, beta, encouragement and awesomeness.
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There were things Dean was putting off. Not because he had any fear of them-but because if he did them, then he was admitting defeat. Okay, so he knew he had two months left but that wasn’t the frigging point. A deal for his life to get Sam still didn’t mean he was anymore okay with the whole dying thing. But hey, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with whoever the fuck he wanted and damn if he hadn’t crossed a bunch of things of his wish list.
Man, those triplets had been awesome.
But he had two months left, and there was one thing he knew he had to do. He couldn’t leave it for too long, because then he probably wouldn’t get the proper goodbye that he wanted. Or he just wouldn’t get a goodbye at all.
The Impala cruised up the impressive driveway and he smirked as some of the kids came to check his baby out. That was until one of them reached out to touch the hood, and he honked the horn and glared a warning. The little boy yelped and turned a weird kind of orange before running off. Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Man, he had missed this place.
He’d left Sam back in the city with the hopes he’d follow his brother’s advice about the blonde, and get his tight ass laid. He didn’t want his brother to be a part of this. Sam could come here himself any time he wanted after Dean was gone. He headed up the rest of the drive on foot, the gravel crunching under his boots as he tucked his hands in his pockets. Some kid tried to bug him about the car, and Dean just gave him a look and murmured a, “Later.”
He didn’t need directions to find her, the way to her room engraved on his mind. He breathed a tiny sigh of relief at not bumping into Logan, but maybe when he was done with her he’d find the big guy and go for a drink. He just wasn’t in the mood for being sniffed, and answering to the Hairy Inquisition.
When he reached her door, he raised his knuckles and tapped lightly. They had no secret knock, but somehow she always knew it was him. Probably because his Impala wasn’t exactly the quietest ride.
She opened the door, her brown eyes shining as her red lips curved into a smile that almost had him down on his knees. She wore a summer dress that on anyone else should have been frumpy, but on her it was sinful. She always did that to clothes, and he loved her for it. Those platinum streaks framed her face, and he finally smiled.
“I was beginnin’ to think I’d never see you again, sugar,” she softly drawled, her accent washing over him like a warm shower.
His smile morphed into a smirk and he crossed the threshold into her room as he scooped her up. Her slender legs wrapped around his waist, and he held her securely in his arms as he kicked the door shut. No matter how many triplets, or strippers, or college coeds there had been between the deal and now… she put them all to shame. He ignored the double meaning of her words, mostly because she didn’t know this was a goodbye, not yet. And now that he was here and she was pressing kisses to his face, and that jasmine scent she wore was going straight to his groin, he didn’t want it to be goodbye.
She raised an eyebrow as she looked down at him. “Ain’t you gonna say somethin’, Dean?”
He shook his head, and lowered her gently onto the bed before stretching over her. One arm held his weight off her as he toed his boots off. God only knew how many times she’d told him off for boots on the bed the last time he’d been here. It seemed like an age ago now, and he tried to push back the sudden lump in his throat. He wasn’t going to cry now. He wasn’t his frigging baby brother. Dean just didn’t cry during sex.
Not that they were having sex, but it was definitely imminent. Real damn imminent if she kept writhing under him like she was now.
“I bet I can make ya say somethin’,” she told him with a smirk.
He just chuckled in response, and sat up to get his jacket and shirt off. That left him in a t-shirt and jeans, and the jeans he always liked her to take off him. He settled back over her, and let his hand slide down over her side as he reacquainted himself with her curves.
She let out a huff of breath, even though her eyes had darkened and she was definitely enjoying her position. “I’m pregnant.”
Dean’s eyebrows went up, and then he pushed her dress up over her lower body and ran his palm over his flat, smooth stomach. He quirked an eyebrow and shook his head.
“How do you know, I could’ve only just found out.”
He smirked and shifted down the bed so he could dip his tongue into her belly button. He looked up at her and shrugged. His hands moved over her thighs, urging them to part as he continued to move his mouth over her flawless skin. He knew she was just trying to get him to say something, but even if it were true he wasn’t about to ask for details. He had no wish to know who the father was. He kissed the inside her thigh, and grinned as she wriggled and moaned.
“This ain’t fair.” That just made him grin even more. “What if I told ya that all of me is touchable now ‘cept for my vagina?”
He looked up at her, his face the picture of confusion before he just licked at his lips and closed his mouth over where her panties covered her sex. She was already wet, and he swallowed a moan as he pushed his tongue between her folds and started stroking her through the silk material. If she thought her skin ever bothered him, she was wrong. He watched as her back arched, and a shudder rolled through him as her fingers gripped at his short hair to keep his head in place.
She tasted sweet even through her panties and now that he’d gotten a taste he wasn’t exactly planning on stopping. He urged her thighs even further apart, his hand gripping her tight enough to leave an imprint of his ring. He sucked on her clit, his tongue pushing against the sensitive bud as he tried to create to some friction. She was moaning his name, and trying to rock her hips as she tried to press herself further against his face. He would have laughed if he weren’t otherwise occupied. He ached for her, but the pain was nothing while he focused on her. Her hips bucked, and he pressed a hand to her stomach to keep her in place as the orgasm tore through her. He closed his eyes as he felt her nails dig into his scalp, and pushed her panties aside to slip his tongue into her warm center. Dying between her thighs wasn’t exactly the worst way to go just so he could lap up her juices. He slid her panties down and off her body, figuring that she wasn’t in need of them any longer. She was shaking all over, and he licked her clean before pushing himself back up her body and capturing her mouth in a heated kiss.
She lacked the energy to wrap her legs around him, so instead she just gripped his sides and kissed him back. The taste of herself on his lips and tongue had never bothered her. In fact she liked it, and her tongue pushed against his before bring into her mouth and sucking on it. She moaned contentedly, her hands now pushing his shirt up so the warm skin of his stomach could press against hers.
When the kiss was broken, he helped her take his t-shirt off, and rolled onto his back so that she was on top and free to let her hands do all the exploring they wished to. As much as it made him so hard it was hurt, he could do the patience thing. If only because he knew they’d both been waiting so long for this.
“What if…” she started, her tongue leaving wet trails all across his chest and torso, “I said that I couldn’t really do this because I’m married and maybe I ain’t pregnant but I do have two-point-five kids and a mortgage and I’m only here because it’s my week to be on call?”
He looked at her, his hand pausing mid-stroke against her back. He arched an eyebrow and sat up as he pushed the strap off her shoulder to reveal a tattoo of a small tribal heart inked just above her breast. She had gotten it done over a year ago, and as far as he was concerned it meant more than any stupid gold band. Even if he hadn’t been faithful. She knew who he was, though. He watched as she looked down at the tattoo as well, and her shoulders slumped. Another lie defeated because they both knew she’d have it removed the moment she was genuinely in love with someone else. He placed his palm over the tattoo, and felt the beats of her heart. She held his gaze, and leaned in to cup his face in her hands and kiss him.
He pushed the other strap down off her shoulder, the dress falling down her body to reveal her perfect breasts. Her hardened nipples rubbed against his chest and she shivered in response. Dean moved his mouth down over her jaw, trailing open mouthed kisses along her throat and collarbone before dropping his head to her chest as his hands moved to cup her ass. He kissed the tattoo, before moving to draw a rosy nipple into his mouth. He sucked and nipped, alternately making her moan and gasp. Her hands had moved to his fly, slender fingers working the zipper as she worked at getting the denim down over his hips. Not an easy task considering he was sitting. She settled for just getting the jeans as open as she could, her fingers wrapping around his length as she lifted her hips up and stroked herself with the tip of his cock. Dean bit down hard on her nipple, the only indication he was willing to give that feeling her hot, wet, and so damn ready was driving him crazy.
Neither of them seemed to be giving any thought to a condom, but that was okay. Dean believed in ‘no glove no love’ with every other encounter he had so he was squeaky-clean. And Rogue… well, he knew she just craved the contact since she had control and all. He was going to make no move to deny her. He also knew she had this habit of playing it safe with any other guy, and he was secretly grateful. She was his, and always would be. Even after he was gone.
She lowered herself as she guided him inside her, her hand slipping from around him as he thrust his hips up and buried himself to the hilt. They stayed still for a long minute, neither willing to move as they started to kiss. She clenched her inner muscles around him, he buried his face against his shoulder. Maybe if he stayed the night this would feel as final as it did. This wouldn’t be the last time he was with her. And he still had two months. He could come back on weekends, or something…
Her fingers pushed through his hair and he helped her lift her hips and start to find a rhythm that suited them both. For once Dean wasn’t looking for hard and fast. If he had wanted that he would have just stayed on top. And Rogue seemed to be looking to prolong their coupling as well. Maybe she knew… Maybe she was starting to realise that his not talking was just a game. He watched as her swollen lips parted and her pink tongue came out to drag across her upper lip. And maybe she just wanted to go slow.
The room filled with the sounds of their shallow breathing, and Rogue’s little moans and murmurs of his name. Their bodies became covered in a fine sheen of perspiration, and she worked on licking every salty droplet off his skin. Eventually Dean moved them again, and pushed his jeans down a little. He hooked her leg over his hip and started to thrust harder inside her. The effort to keep things slow had made his brow creased, and he almost cracked a smile when her fingers tried to smooth it out.
Her hand slid down to the tattoo on his own chest, the protective symbol designed to keep demons from getting inside. She raised herself up to kiss it before turning her head in towards his neck where she nipped and bit at the skin until it was bruised; leaving a mark of her own. He turned to meet her mouth in a kiss, pushing her back against the pillow as his tongue surged past her lips and explored the warm cavern of her mouth. He let out the smallest of groans as her nails scraped down his back, slamming into her in retaliation. Her strangled cry against his mouth made his cock jump and he struggled not to keep slamming into her. His teeth caught her bottom lip, and he tugged on it as he pulled his head back to look at her. She gave him a wicked smile as she looked up at him, and arched her back to draw his attention to her breasts. He smirked, more than willing to pay them some attention. Her hips lifted to meet his every stroke, and her hands were sliding over every inch on skin they could reach.
He could feel her start to tremble beneath him, and he worked on holding back his own climax until he was sure she was over the edge. He stroked hard and deep, his mouth close enough to hers that they exchanged breaths. He watched as her eyes became hooded, and her lips stayed parted in that silent ‘o’ as she got closer and closer. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she wrapped both her legs tight around him to keep him close. As her hips bucked against his, he managed one last thrust before he felt the orgasm explode from the base of his spine and he came hard inside her. Rogue cried out his name as she shuddered under him, and he dropped his forehead against her shoulder.
Her arms encircled his neck and head, and trembling fingers started to comb through damp hair. He licked his lips as he tried to get his breath back, eventually moving enough to put his head on the pillow next to hers, but not making any move to disentangle himself from her. She pressed a tender kiss to his lips and smiled. “My beautiful hunter,” she whispered.
He wanted so badly to say something right now. To tell her he was sorry for everything, and anything. To tell her goodbye, and to tell her why he was doing this now. But he couldn’t. The words just didn’t want to come out so he buried his face in the crook of her neck and just breathed in her scent as his arms held her close. She continued to stroke his hair and he could have just stayed like this for the rest of his two months. Fuck the demons, fuck the people needing their help, and Sam was a big enough boy that he could take care of his own damn self. Dean was all for staying between Rogue’s thighs and only coming up for food and water every second day.
“What if I told ya I loved ya?” she asked softly, apparently not wanting to intrude on his thoughts too much.
He cleared his throat, and stayed right where he was. He couldn’t look at her. “I’d say you were crazy, sweetheart.”
“And?” Apparently she wasn’t going to gloat over getting him to talk just yet.
“And…” he pressed a kiss to her neck. “I love you, too.”
Fandom: X-Men (Movie)/Supernatural
Author: deep_salt_water
Pairing/Character: Rogue/Dean Winchester
Word Count: 2773
Disclaimer: The X-Men aren’t mine; they belong to Marvel and 20th Century Fox. Supernatural belongs to Kripke.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Dean returns to Xavier's to say goodbye.
Placement: Before SPN 3.13 - 'Ghostfacers', and post-X3 for Rogue.
Spoilers/Warnings: Season 3 of Supernatural. Nothing past 3.13 though.
A/N: Written as a birthday present for feeferj, and because Rogue/Dean needed to be done. Again. Also much love and naked Jensen to evenasiwander for the title, beta, encouragement and awesomeness.
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There were things Dean was putting off. Not because he had any fear of them-but because if he did them, then he was admitting defeat. Okay, so he knew he had two months left but that wasn’t the frigging point. A deal for his life to get Sam still didn’t mean he was anymore okay with the whole dying thing. But hey, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with whoever the fuck he wanted and damn if he hadn’t crossed a bunch of things of his wish list.
Man, those triplets had been awesome.
But he had two months left, and there was one thing he knew he had to do. He couldn’t leave it for too long, because then he probably wouldn’t get the proper goodbye that he wanted. Or he just wouldn’t get a goodbye at all.
The Impala cruised up the impressive driveway and he smirked as some of the kids came to check his baby out. That was until one of them reached out to touch the hood, and he honked the horn and glared a warning. The little boy yelped and turned a weird kind of orange before running off. Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Man, he had missed this place.
He’d left Sam back in the city with the hopes he’d follow his brother’s advice about the blonde, and get his tight ass laid. He didn’t want his brother to be a part of this. Sam could come here himself any time he wanted after Dean was gone. He headed up the rest of the drive on foot, the gravel crunching under his boots as he tucked his hands in his pockets. Some kid tried to bug him about the car, and Dean just gave him a look and murmured a, “Later.”
He didn’t need directions to find her, the way to her room engraved on his mind. He breathed a tiny sigh of relief at not bumping into Logan, but maybe when he was done with her he’d find the big guy and go for a drink. He just wasn’t in the mood for being sniffed, and answering to the Hairy Inquisition.
When he reached her door, he raised his knuckles and tapped lightly. They had no secret knock, but somehow she always knew it was him. Probably because his Impala wasn’t exactly the quietest ride.
She opened the door, her brown eyes shining as her red lips curved into a smile that almost had him down on his knees. She wore a summer dress that on anyone else should have been frumpy, but on her it was sinful. She always did that to clothes, and he loved her for it. Those platinum streaks framed her face, and he finally smiled.
“I was beginnin’ to think I’d never see you again, sugar,” she softly drawled, her accent washing over him like a warm shower.
His smile morphed into a smirk and he crossed the threshold into her room as he scooped her up. Her slender legs wrapped around his waist, and he held her securely in his arms as he kicked the door shut. No matter how many triplets, or strippers, or college coeds there had been between the deal and now… she put them all to shame. He ignored the double meaning of her words, mostly because she didn’t know this was a goodbye, not yet. And now that he was here and she was pressing kisses to his face, and that jasmine scent she wore was going straight to his groin, he didn’t want it to be goodbye.
She raised an eyebrow as she looked down at him. “Ain’t you gonna say somethin’, Dean?”
He shook his head, and lowered her gently onto the bed before stretching over her. One arm held his weight off her as he toed his boots off. God only knew how many times she’d told him off for boots on the bed the last time he’d been here. It seemed like an age ago now, and he tried to push back the sudden lump in his throat. He wasn’t going to cry now. He wasn’t his frigging baby brother. Dean just didn’t cry during sex.
Not that they were having sex, but it was definitely imminent. Real damn imminent if she kept writhing under him like she was now.
“I bet I can make ya say somethin’,” she told him with a smirk.
He just chuckled in response, and sat up to get his jacket and shirt off. That left him in a t-shirt and jeans, and the jeans he always liked her to take off him. He settled back over her, and let his hand slide down over her side as he reacquainted himself with her curves.
She let out a huff of breath, even though her eyes had darkened and she was definitely enjoying her position. “I’m pregnant.”
Dean’s eyebrows went up, and then he pushed her dress up over her lower body and ran his palm over his flat, smooth stomach. He quirked an eyebrow and shook his head.
“How do you know, I could’ve only just found out.”
He smirked and shifted down the bed so he could dip his tongue into her belly button. He looked up at her and shrugged. His hands moved over her thighs, urging them to part as he continued to move his mouth over her flawless skin. He knew she was just trying to get him to say something, but even if it were true he wasn’t about to ask for details. He had no wish to know who the father was. He kissed the inside her thigh, and grinned as she wriggled and moaned.
“This ain’t fair.” That just made him grin even more. “What if I told ya that all of me is touchable now ‘cept for my vagina?”
He looked up at her, his face the picture of confusion before he just licked at his lips and closed his mouth over where her panties covered her sex. She was already wet, and he swallowed a moan as he pushed his tongue between her folds and started stroking her through the silk material. If she thought her skin ever bothered him, she was wrong. He watched as her back arched, and a shudder rolled through him as her fingers gripped at his short hair to keep his head in place.
She tasted sweet even through her panties and now that he’d gotten a taste he wasn’t exactly planning on stopping. He urged her thighs even further apart, his hand gripping her tight enough to leave an imprint of his ring. He sucked on her clit, his tongue pushing against the sensitive bud as he tried to create to some friction. She was moaning his name, and trying to rock her hips as she tried to press herself further against his face. He would have laughed if he weren’t otherwise occupied. He ached for her, but the pain was nothing while he focused on her. Her hips bucked, and he pressed a hand to her stomach to keep her in place as the orgasm tore through her. He closed his eyes as he felt her nails dig into his scalp, and pushed her panties aside to slip his tongue into her warm center. Dying between her thighs wasn’t exactly the worst way to go just so he could lap up her juices. He slid her panties down and off her body, figuring that she wasn’t in need of them any longer. She was shaking all over, and he licked her clean before pushing himself back up her body and capturing her mouth in a heated kiss.
She lacked the energy to wrap her legs around him, so instead she just gripped his sides and kissed him back. The taste of herself on his lips and tongue had never bothered her. In fact she liked it, and her tongue pushed against his before bring into her mouth and sucking on it. She moaned contentedly, her hands now pushing his shirt up so the warm skin of his stomach could press against hers.
When the kiss was broken, he helped her take his t-shirt off, and rolled onto his back so that she was on top and free to let her hands do all the exploring they wished to. As much as it made him so hard it was hurt, he could do the patience thing. If only because he knew they’d both been waiting so long for this.
“What if…” she started, her tongue leaving wet trails all across his chest and torso, “I said that I couldn’t really do this because I’m married and maybe I ain’t pregnant but I do have two-point-five kids and a mortgage and I’m only here because it’s my week to be on call?”
He looked at her, his hand pausing mid-stroke against her back. He arched an eyebrow and sat up as he pushed the strap off her shoulder to reveal a tattoo of a small tribal heart inked just above her breast. She had gotten it done over a year ago, and as far as he was concerned it meant more than any stupid gold band. Even if he hadn’t been faithful. She knew who he was, though. He watched as she looked down at the tattoo as well, and her shoulders slumped. Another lie defeated because they both knew she’d have it removed the moment she was genuinely in love with someone else. He placed his palm over the tattoo, and felt the beats of her heart. She held his gaze, and leaned in to cup his face in her hands and kiss him.
He pushed the other strap down off her shoulder, the dress falling down her body to reveal her perfect breasts. Her hardened nipples rubbed against his chest and she shivered in response. Dean moved his mouth down over her jaw, trailing open mouthed kisses along her throat and collarbone before dropping his head to her chest as his hands moved to cup her ass. He kissed the tattoo, before moving to draw a rosy nipple into his mouth. He sucked and nipped, alternately making her moan and gasp. Her hands had moved to his fly, slender fingers working the zipper as she worked at getting the denim down over his hips. Not an easy task considering he was sitting. She settled for just getting the jeans as open as she could, her fingers wrapping around his length as she lifted her hips up and stroked herself with the tip of his cock. Dean bit down hard on her nipple, the only indication he was willing to give that feeling her hot, wet, and so damn ready was driving him crazy.
Neither of them seemed to be giving any thought to a condom, but that was okay. Dean believed in ‘no glove no love’ with every other encounter he had so he was squeaky-clean. And Rogue… well, he knew she just craved the contact since she had control and all. He was going to make no move to deny her. He also knew she had this habit of playing it safe with any other guy, and he was secretly grateful. She was his, and always would be. Even after he was gone.
She lowered herself as she guided him inside her, her hand slipping from around him as he thrust his hips up and buried himself to the hilt. They stayed still for a long minute, neither willing to move as they started to kiss. She clenched her inner muscles around him, he buried his face against his shoulder. Maybe if he stayed the night this would feel as final as it did. This wouldn’t be the last time he was with her. And he still had two months. He could come back on weekends, or something…
Her fingers pushed through his hair and he helped her lift her hips and start to find a rhythm that suited them both. For once Dean wasn’t looking for hard and fast. If he had wanted that he would have just stayed on top. And Rogue seemed to be looking to prolong their coupling as well. Maybe she knew… Maybe she was starting to realise that his not talking was just a game. He watched as her swollen lips parted and her pink tongue came out to drag across her upper lip. And maybe she just wanted to go slow.
The room filled with the sounds of their shallow breathing, and Rogue’s little moans and murmurs of his name. Their bodies became covered in a fine sheen of perspiration, and she worked on licking every salty droplet off his skin. Eventually Dean moved them again, and pushed his jeans down a little. He hooked her leg over his hip and started to thrust harder inside her. The effort to keep things slow had made his brow creased, and he almost cracked a smile when her fingers tried to smooth it out.
Her hand slid down to the tattoo on his own chest, the protective symbol designed to keep demons from getting inside. She raised herself up to kiss it before turning her head in towards his neck where she nipped and bit at the skin until it was bruised; leaving a mark of her own. He turned to meet her mouth in a kiss, pushing her back against the pillow as his tongue surged past her lips and explored the warm cavern of her mouth. He let out the smallest of groans as her nails scraped down his back, slamming into her in retaliation. Her strangled cry against his mouth made his cock jump and he struggled not to keep slamming into her. His teeth caught her bottom lip, and he tugged on it as he pulled his head back to look at her. She gave him a wicked smile as she looked up at him, and arched her back to draw his attention to her breasts. He smirked, more than willing to pay them some attention. Her hips lifted to meet his every stroke, and her hands were sliding over every inch on skin they could reach.
He could feel her start to tremble beneath him, and he worked on holding back his own climax until he was sure she was over the edge. He stroked hard and deep, his mouth close enough to hers that they exchanged breaths. He watched as her eyes became hooded, and her lips stayed parted in that silent ‘o’ as she got closer and closer. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she wrapped both her legs tight around him to keep him close. As her hips bucked against his, he managed one last thrust before he felt the orgasm explode from the base of his spine and he came hard inside her. Rogue cried out his name as she shuddered under him, and he dropped his forehead against her shoulder.
Her arms encircled his neck and head, and trembling fingers started to comb through damp hair. He licked his lips as he tried to get his breath back, eventually moving enough to put his head on the pillow next to hers, but not making any move to disentangle himself from her. She pressed a tender kiss to his lips and smiled. “My beautiful hunter,” she whispered.
He wanted so badly to say something right now. To tell her he was sorry for everything, and anything. To tell her goodbye, and to tell her why he was doing this now. But he couldn’t. The words just didn’t want to come out so he buried his face in the crook of her neck and just breathed in her scent as his arms held her close. She continued to stroke his hair and he could have just stayed like this for the rest of his two months. Fuck the demons, fuck the people needing their help, and Sam was a big enough boy that he could take care of his own damn self. Dean was all for staying between Rogue’s thighs and only coming up for food and water every second day.
“What if I told ya I loved ya?” she asked softly, apparently not wanting to intrude on his thoughts too much.
He cleared his throat, and stayed right where he was. He couldn’t look at her. “I’d say you were crazy, sweetheart.”
“And?” Apparently she wasn’t going to gloat over getting him to talk just yet.
“And…” he pressed a kiss to her neck. “I love you, too.”