Fanfiction: Rise Above the Chaos
Title: Rise Above The Chaos
Prompt: Anna Morasca/Dean Winchester OMGwecouldvedied!smut
Rating: Almost!NC-17.
Wordcount: 1,775
Author's Note: A lot longer than a drabble, but when muses get chatty? They're chatty. hasperkynipples used with mun permission. Sam Winchester, Castiel, and Ruby not binding to any current muses. Request from here.
It had started in the abandoned woods, and ended in a crappy motel room shower. Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, they had managed to rise above everything and find comfort in each other.
---
"Flare gun!" As soon as Dean could call it out, he flew back into a tree like a ragdoll, head slamming against the trunk and knocking him unconscious.
"Dean!" Anna scrambled to her feet in search of the makeshift flamethrower they'd been planning to use on the wendigo. The monster grabbed Dean, ready to make its getaway with the fresh prey but paused when it heard Anna yell. Suddenly, Anna was at the monster's feet on the ground. "Hey! Let him go. You want me, I'll taste better." With that, she pulled the trigger on the flare gun and the wendigo let out a blood-curdling scream unlike anything Anna'd ever heard before. Dropping Dean, it hunched over in a ball of flame and burned to the ground it had lived on.
Anna got to her feet and ignored the sudden rush of dizziness to her head, gathering Dean and bracing him against her as she stumbled to the Impala. She fished the keys from his pocket and slid him into the passenger's seat, wishing Sam hadn't run off with Ruby as she drove them back to the hotel.
By the time she got them into the hotel and to their bed, she had tapped all of her energy reserves and the adrenaline was gone. "Please wake up, Dean." She whimpered as she stumbled into the bathroom for a damp cloth and her First Aid kit. Pressing the cloth to his forehead tenderly, she propped him up against her and tapped his cheek to get him to wake up. "Dean. C'mon, wake up. Wake up for me, okay?"
"Ungh. What? Anna?" Dean shot up in a panic before relaxing when he realized they were in the hotel. If this was another one of Castiel's little "tests" - then he was going to kill that fucking angel. "What happened?" She looked almost as bad as he did, he realized with a frown.
"The wendigo used you as a battery ram on a tree. I torched the bastard and got us the hell out of there." She ran her hands over his arms, checking for cuts and broken bones as her features twisted into an almost panicked look of concern.
Dean sat in stunned silence as Anna checked his body over for any life-threatening injuries. Not only was she taking their near-death experience incredibly well (considering what he expected her reaction to be), but she took down a fucking wendigo and got them back here by herself - practically. She'd been the one who saved his ass, not the other way around. Dean knew well that Anna had been a cop and had worked homicide, that the job hardened her as well as Beretti's murder, but... that she was so collected right now surprised him.
"Maybe we should get you to a hospital, just in case. You were out cold and- you hit that tree pretty hard. You could have a serious concussion, or a lesion, or-" And the rambling commenced for several minutes - which he tuned out while his brain tried to register everything that'd happened. Until her hands ghosted his chest over the tattered remains of his t-shirt. "Dean."
"Huh?" He blinked, looking down at her in the dim light of the room.
Anna frowned, her concern growing at his reaction. "Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Are you experiencing any blurred or double-vision?"
"No. No. No and no. My head just fucking hurts." He bitched in typical Dean style - until Anna went to turn on the lamp between the two beds and he caught sight of blood on the left half of Anna’s head. "Anna."
"What? Are you feeling dizzy?" She rushed back to his side and leaned in, shining a mini flashlight into his eyes.
Dean swatted her hand away and tugged her until she straddled his thighs awkwardly on the bed. She blushed and started to speak but he shushed her. "You're covered in blood."
"It must be the wendigo's. I'm fine, Dean. We need to get you to a hospital."
Brows furrowing, he raised a hand to brush some of her tousled, blood-stained locks from her face and he felt a pang of guilt when he discovered a fresh gash that started above her hairline and ended at the ridge of her cheekbone. It was clearly from the wendigo, and she'd bled out from it the entire time. Upon this realization, anger swelled in his chest and he clenched his jaw. "How long ago did this happen?"
"Hour ago I think. I'm fine, Dean. A few stitches and some antiseptic will heal it right up." She shifted out of his lap and opened her kit, grabbing gauze, tape, and antiseptic for Dean's cuts and scrapes.
Dean reached over and snatched it from her, growling. "Sit still." Before she could argue, he glared and pulled a stitching kit, threading the needle and moving to cleanse her cut. As he stitched her up the best he could (Dean wasn't a surgeon, but he tried his best), his green eyes met hers. "Thanks. We would've died out there if you didn't handle it like that. Guess I owe you for saving my ass."
"Five years on the force- oww-- teaches you a few things about keeping calm under pressure." Anna rested her hands in her lap and glanced down at them as she continued - reluctantly. "I've been on my death bed at least three times before everything with Angela happened. I just won't die. I'm stubborn that way, I guess." She shrugged a little and hissed as Dean finished the last of her stitches.
"Good thing or I’d be back in hell... again." Dean muttered as he secured some butterfly bandages over Anna's stitches.
Sighing, Anna looked down at her hands. "Another scar for another close call." With another sigh, she whispered under her breath that she'd be real lucky to find a date for anything now.
"Anyone who won't give you a chance because of that is an asshole." Dean muttered, shifting awkwardly in his seat.
Did he say something sweet? Anna blinked and smiled softly at him, causing Dean to shift more in his seat. After a moment, she cleared her throat and got to her feet. "You should, umm - grab a shower and wash some of the dirt from your scrapes."
"I think you're the one who needs it more." Dean was surprised again by her actions - she didn't snark back, call him an asshole, or hit him upside the head as she was prone to doing.
"I'll grab a shower after you." Anna said as she cleaned up everything and kicked off her boots. Her belt, gun holster, and dagger went to the empty chair across the room while she heard Dean shuffle into the bathroom.
"You know," Dean said as the water began to run and he poked his head out of the bathroom door, "We could do that whole environmentalist, save the world from global warming crap by saving water..." He wiggled his brows suggestively, his patented smirk glued to his face.
Anna rolled her eyes and crossed over to the bathroom, leaning against the doorway as Dean stood there naked. Her gaze moved to the cuts and scrapes that had collected on his body and she felt a twinge of guilt. It must've shown on her face because the next thing she knew, Dean tilted her chin up so she looked at his face instead. "Dean, you... could have a concussion. And you know if I do this that we'll- and I can't risk hurting you more."
"Water's gonna be cold by the time I'm out. You might like cold showers but I'm not such a big fan of them. And you lost enough blood, so don't think I'm letting you freeze your ass off in the shower because a wendigo knocked me on my ass. It's insulting." He grinned jokingly as he unbuttoned Anna's shirt, sliding it off her shoulders.
"Dean..." She said distractedly as she closed the door behind them and let him strip her down.
"Yeah?" He got into the shower and pulled Anna in with him before closing the curtain and positioning them under the water carefully so as not to aggravate Anna's stitches.
"We shouldn't do this."
"Why not?" He asked as he washed them both and placed a chaste kiss to Anna's forehead near her scar, pulling her close when he felt her shudder.
Through half-lidded eyes she looked up at Dean as his lips trailed down her nose and hovered near her lips. "Sam could be back any minute."
"Sammy's a big boy. If he comes back we'll just be really loud. He'll run for his life and then we'll have the place all to ourselves." Dean grinned and kissed Anna softly, his hands sliding down her wet body before giving her ass a playful squeeze.
Anna bit her lip and kissed Dean back, mumbling into his mouth. "And I get to spend the next week dealing with Sam refusing to look at me."
Backing Anna against the shower wall, he kissed down her neck, nipping at her favorite spots. "Anyone ever tell you that you think too damn much?"
"F-Frequently..." She gasped as Dean's hand slipped between her thighs and he began to stroke her slowly but firmly. "Dean... we could've died today. Maybe- maybe we should rest."
Her words seemed to have struck a chord briefly, as Dean paused his ministrations and pressed against her, his erection rubbing against her thigh. "All the more reason to celebrate being alive, Anna."
Nodding, she arched against Dean's body and kissed him roughly. "I'm done thinking now."
"Good." He grinned and lifted her up, enjoying the sensation of her wet, warm skin against his as he thrust inside of Anna and felt her stretch around him.
The sex was passionate, hot, and a little rough. But it was full of a hot intensity - a swirling vortex of powerful emotions being outpoured into every kiss and every thrust until there was nothing left but them and their beaten, wet bodies. Neither could remember with much certainty how they made it to the bed, but they hadn't cared. They were alive. They had each other to lean on, and as their naked bodies curled together under the sheets, those thoughts would give them comfort as they drifted off to sleep.
However, they definitely had some explaining to do later. "What the-? Oh, come on, Dean! In my bed?!"
Prompt: Anna Morasca/Dean Winchester OMGwecouldvedied!smut
Rating: Almost!NC-17.
Wordcount: 1,775
Author's Note: A lot longer than a drabble, but when muses get chatty? They're chatty. hasperkynipples used with mun permission. Sam Winchester, Castiel, and Ruby not binding to any current muses. Request from here.
It had started in the abandoned woods, and ended in a crappy motel room shower. Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, they had managed to rise above everything and find comfort in each other.
---
"Flare gun!" As soon as Dean could call it out, he flew back into a tree like a ragdoll, head slamming against the trunk and knocking him unconscious.
"Dean!" Anna scrambled to her feet in search of the makeshift flamethrower they'd been planning to use on the wendigo. The monster grabbed Dean, ready to make its getaway with the fresh prey but paused when it heard Anna yell. Suddenly, Anna was at the monster's feet on the ground. "Hey! Let him go. You want me, I'll taste better." With that, she pulled the trigger on the flare gun and the wendigo let out a blood-curdling scream unlike anything Anna'd ever heard before. Dropping Dean, it hunched over in a ball of flame and burned to the ground it had lived on.
Anna got to her feet and ignored the sudden rush of dizziness to her head, gathering Dean and bracing him against her as she stumbled to the Impala. She fished the keys from his pocket and slid him into the passenger's seat, wishing Sam hadn't run off with Ruby as she drove them back to the hotel.
By the time she got them into the hotel and to their bed, she had tapped all of her energy reserves and the adrenaline was gone. "Please wake up, Dean." She whimpered as she stumbled into the bathroom for a damp cloth and her First Aid kit. Pressing the cloth to his forehead tenderly, she propped him up against her and tapped his cheek to get him to wake up. "Dean. C'mon, wake up. Wake up for me, okay?"
"Ungh. What? Anna?" Dean shot up in a panic before relaxing when he realized they were in the hotel. If this was another one of Castiel's little "tests" - then he was going to kill that fucking angel. "What happened?" She looked almost as bad as he did, he realized with a frown.
"The wendigo used you as a battery ram on a tree. I torched the bastard and got us the hell out of there." She ran her hands over his arms, checking for cuts and broken bones as her features twisted into an almost panicked look of concern.
Dean sat in stunned silence as Anna checked his body over for any life-threatening injuries. Not only was she taking their near-death experience incredibly well (considering what he expected her reaction to be), but she took down a fucking wendigo and got them back here by herself - practically. She'd been the one who saved his ass, not the other way around. Dean knew well that Anna had been a cop and had worked homicide, that the job hardened her as well as Beretti's murder, but... that she was so collected right now surprised him.
"Maybe we should get you to a hospital, just in case. You were out cold and- you hit that tree pretty hard. You could have a serious concussion, or a lesion, or-" And the rambling commenced for several minutes - which he tuned out while his brain tried to register everything that'd happened. Until her hands ghosted his chest over the tattered remains of his t-shirt. "Dean."
"Huh?" He blinked, looking down at her in the dim light of the room.
Anna frowned, her concern growing at his reaction. "Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Are you experiencing any blurred or double-vision?"
"No. No. No and no. My head just fucking hurts." He bitched in typical Dean style - until Anna went to turn on the lamp between the two beds and he caught sight of blood on the left half of Anna’s head. "Anna."
"What? Are you feeling dizzy?" She rushed back to his side and leaned in, shining a mini flashlight into his eyes.
Dean swatted her hand away and tugged her until she straddled his thighs awkwardly on the bed. She blushed and started to speak but he shushed her. "You're covered in blood."
"It must be the wendigo's. I'm fine, Dean. We need to get you to a hospital."
Brows furrowing, he raised a hand to brush some of her tousled, blood-stained locks from her face and he felt a pang of guilt when he discovered a fresh gash that started above her hairline and ended at the ridge of her cheekbone. It was clearly from the wendigo, and she'd bled out from it the entire time. Upon this realization, anger swelled in his chest and he clenched his jaw. "How long ago did this happen?"
"Hour ago I think. I'm fine, Dean. A few stitches and some antiseptic will heal it right up." She shifted out of his lap and opened her kit, grabbing gauze, tape, and antiseptic for Dean's cuts and scrapes.
Dean reached over and snatched it from her, growling. "Sit still." Before she could argue, he glared and pulled a stitching kit, threading the needle and moving to cleanse her cut. As he stitched her up the best he could (Dean wasn't a surgeon, but he tried his best), his green eyes met hers. "Thanks. We would've died out there if you didn't handle it like that. Guess I owe you for saving my ass."
"Five years on the force- oww-- teaches you a few things about keeping calm under pressure." Anna rested her hands in her lap and glanced down at them as she continued - reluctantly. "I've been on my death bed at least three times before everything with Angela happened. I just won't die. I'm stubborn that way, I guess." She shrugged a little and hissed as Dean finished the last of her stitches.
"Good thing or I’d be back in hell... again." Dean muttered as he secured some butterfly bandages over Anna's stitches.
Sighing, Anna looked down at her hands. "Another scar for another close call." With another sigh, she whispered under her breath that she'd be real lucky to find a date for anything now.
"Anyone who won't give you a chance because of that is an asshole." Dean muttered, shifting awkwardly in his seat.
Did he say something sweet? Anna blinked and smiled softly at him, causing Dean to shift more in his seat. After a moment, she cleared her throat and got to her feet. "You should, umm - grab a shower and wash some of the dirt from your scrapes."
"I think you're the one who needs it more." Dean was surprised again by her actions - she didn't snark back, call him an asshole, or hit him upside the head as she was prone to doing.
"I'll grab a shower after you." Anna said as she cleaned up everything and kicked off her boots. Her belt, gun holster, and dagger went to the empty chair across the room while she heard Dean shuffle into the bathroom.
"You know," Dean said as the water began to run and he poked his head out of the bathroom door, "We could do that whole environmentalist, save the world from global warming crap by saving water..." He wiggled his brows suggestively, his patented smirk glued to his face.
Anna rolled her eyes and crossed over to the bathroom, leaning against the doorway as Dean stood there naked. Her gaze moved to the cuts and scrapes that had collected on his body and she felt a twinge of guilt. It must've shown on her face because the next thing she knew, Dean tilted her chin up so she looked at his face instead. "Dean, you... could have a concussion. And you know if I do this that we'll- and I can't risk hurting you more."
"Water's gonna be cold by the time I'm out. You might like cold showers but I'm not such a big fan of them. And you lost enough blood, so don't think I'm letting you freeze your ass off in the shower because a wendigo knocked me on my ass. It's insulting." He grinned jokingly as he unbuttoned Anna's shirt, sliding it off her shoulders.
"Dean..." She said distractedly as she closed the door behind them and let him strip her down.
"Yeah?" He got into the shower and pulled Anna in with him before closing the curtain and positioning them under the water carefully so as not to aggravate Anna's stitches.
"We shouldn't do this."
"Why not?" He asked as he washed them both and placed a chaste kiss to Anna's forehead near her scar, pulling her close when he felt her shudder.
Through half-lidded eyes she looked up at Dean as his lips trailed down her nose and hovered near her lips. "Sam could be back any minute."
"Sammy's a big boy. If he comes back we'll just be really loud. He'll run for his life and then we'll have the place all to ourselves." Dean grinned and kissed Anna softly, his hands sliding down her wet body before giving her ass a playful squeeze.
Anna bit her lip and kissed Dean back, mumbling into his mouth. "And I get to spend the next week dealing with Sam refusing to look at me."
Backing Anna against the shower wall, he kissed down her neck, nipping at her favorite spots. "Anyone ever tell you that you think too damn much?"
"F-Frequently..." She gasped as Dean's hand slipped between her thighs and he began to stroke her slowly but firmly. "Dean... we could've died today. Maybe- maybe we should rest."
Her words seemed to have struck a chord briefly, as Dean paused his ministrations and pressed against her, his erection rubbing against her thigh. "All the more reason to celebrate being alive, Anna."
Nodding, she arched against Dean's body and kissed him roughly. "I'm done thinking now."
"Good." He grinned and lifted her up, enjoying the sensation of her wet, warm skin against his as he thrust inside of Anna and felt her stretch around him.
The sex was passionate, hot, and a little rough. But it was full of a hot intensity - a swirling vortex of powerful emotions being outpoured into every kiss and every thrust until there was nothing left but them and their beaten, wet bodies. Neither could remember with much certainty how they made it to the bed, but they hadn't cared. They were alive. They had each other to lean on, and as their naked bodies curled together under the sheets, those thoughts would give them comfort as they drifted off to sleep.
However, they definitely had some explaining to do later. "What the-? Oh, come on, Dean! In my bed?!"