Bad Moon Rising • Creedence Clearwater Revival

Bad Moon Rising - Part 7 - Finale

REQUEST: ANONYMOUS ASKED: CAN I REQUEST A LUCIFER X READER ONE SHOT BASED OFF THE SONG SIPPY CUP BY MELANIE MARTINEZ MAYBE? MUCH THANK!

A/N:So it has been a LONG time since the last part of this was posted (4 years but who’s counting). There really wasn’t much left of this particular story then, but I want to wrap it up nonetheless.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, swearing

PART 1PART 2PART 3PART 4PART 5PART 6

WORDS: 2727

“We’re almost done,” Dean’s voice whispered from behind me just next to my ear. I nodded silently; my screams silenced for the first time in hours. The blinding hot burning pain had subsided just over half an hour ago and the injection he had just given me was almost a relief. A balm for the wounds that had been opened before it.

I hung my head in front of me and let my tears drip from my eyes onto my jeans. My arms were still bound around the chair behind me, and my ankles were still tied to the legs of the chair.

“You’ve stayed,” I whimpered. “The whole time. Through all my screaming, and snotting and everything. You didn’t leave.” I lifted my eyes and saw him crouching low in front of me, his eyes fixed on mine. “Why?”

His seafoam green eyes stared into mine as he seemed to consider my question. Lifting his hand, he rested the backs of his knuckles against my forehead. “You’re burning up,” he said.

“That’s not an answer,” I half smiled as I hung my head, feeling Dean stand up straight in front of me and step back towards the table he’d set up behind him.

I heard the crack of the plastic ring around the top of a water bottle pop. He stepped back towards me. “Here,” he said pushing a half blue, half red pill into my lips. I opened them readily, letting the pill fall onto my tongue as he held the plastic water bottle to my lips. “Swallow,” he commanded as I took gulp after gulp of the refreshing liquid.

“Girls don’t like it when you make ‘em swallow you know,” I quipped, humorously. Dean barely registered the comment as he quickly glanced at the onyx-colored watch around his wrist.

“Hot date?” I asked, a hint of jealousy making its way into my tone.

He shook his head quickly with a smile spreading across my face. “Oh sweetheart, I’ve been so tied up on this date with you, the days and nights are just stringing themselves together. How am I supposed to handle anyone else?”

“Well hell,” I panted, running out of breath. “Seems I’m the one that’s tied up. Maybe you should handle that.”

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head down, his expression carrying every bit the presence of a disappointed librarian. I let out a breathy laugh. “Come on, Deano. It’s gotta be time for the next shot by now.”

He shook his head sadly now, lifting his arms from his sides and crossing across his chest. “You’ve got another 45 minutes or so. Sorry, kid.”

I shrugged as best as I could, letting my sweat coated hair fall in front of my face. “Know any fun ways to pass the time?” I flicked my eyes back up at him without lifting my head, a smirk playing on my lips as I could feel blood rushing to my cheeks, blushing them as it did. The look on his face was surprised but only for a moment as he smiled at me, his teeth on full display as the devilish grin spread. His eyes became soft and sultry once again as he walked closer to me.

“Just say the word, Y/N. You’ve already had the preview when we met. But I’m more than happy to give you the whole floor show.”

“Well then, cowboy,” I began, squirming in my seat. “As a guest in your home, I demand to be shown a thoroughly fulfilling good time.”

He hung his head shyly, disappointment clouding his countenance. “Give it another hour, Y/N,” he pleaded. “I’ll show you the best time of your life. Just an hour.”

I sighed, wrathfully. “Yeah, Dean.” My tone was flippant as I tossed my head backwards, relishing in the cooling effect of my hair leaving my face. There were still beads of sweat pouring down my neck and trailing down my face. I took a deep breath. “I could use a drink.”

In seconds, Dean was running out of the room, his footsteps galloping up the stairs as he made his way to the kitchen. I took a deep breath, attempting to steady myself. The pain had ebbed long ago, but my nerves were tuned in to everything that was happening around me. As if I had been struck by lightening and could feel every cell of my body moving. My anxiety was flowing through my veins as if it were oil, slowing everything down to a crawl while my mind raced and jumped to every conclusion but a good one.

By the time Dean returned with a tumbler full of whiskey, my chest was heaving, and hyperventilation had set in. “Dean,” I panted.

“What the hell?” He set the drink down and walked up to me again, setting his hands on my shoulders as he gave me a once over, as if to ensure that I wasn’t in any physical harm.

“Dean, what if it doesn’t work? What if you can’t fix me? What if we do all of this and all these injections and nothing happens? If I die? Dean, what if we’re killing me? I can’t….” I was gasping between words and my head had begun to get fuzzy as the room spun.

“Hey, hey,” he said forcefully, wrapping one palm around my cheek. “None of that’s going to happen. It’s going to work.” His tone was convincing, but his face held a worry that only served to further my panic.

I struggled against the wrist restraints, pulling at them until they bit into my flesh, sending a jolt of pain through me. “How much longer?” I asked the question through gritted teeth, doing everything I could to maintain my consciousness.

He glanced down at his watch again. “Still a little over half an hour.” I gave out a small cry, beyond frustrated with the all too stagnant passage of time. “I can’t…” The whispered words went unfinished.

“Oh, fuck it,” Dean said, as he wrapped his hands around my wrists and began removing the ties that had been binding me there. Once he had freed each hand, he ran his own palms up my arms until he was once again cupping my face. “Look at me,” he commanded. I did as he asked, my eyes seeming to be shaking in my skull. He held my gaze a few moments before ravenously slamming his lips against my own as he began to hungrily devour me. My eyes snapped shut in surprise as my mouth responded to his.

Kissing him the day before had felt so different. Mechanical and part of the job. But this? This pulled my senses into focus, becoming engrossed only in him. I could feel my breathing slow and become more controlled as our lips danced against one another. My hands wound around his back, pulling him closer to me as I felt each ripple in his muscular back, feeling them tighten and flex as his hands and arms explored my waist. His hands dropped as his fingers deftly untied the knots at my ankles, never breaking the manic kiss he had been pressing against me. I attempted to get to my feet; to stand and engage him deeper. Before my knees could begin to straighten, I felt his taught hands grasping each buttock as my legs instinctively wrapped around his torso.

Leaning my head back, I let out a breath, inhaling deeply as the feel of his warm lips accosted the all too sensitive spot at the base of my neck. His tongue lapped at my pulse point, heating me from the inside out as he began to nip at my skin.

“Dean,” I moaned, my lips next to his ear as my breathy voice called out for him. His guttural grunt gave me the response I so craved and the pressure in his jeans against my core was all the encouragement I needed.

I snaked my hands down his back, grasping the hem of his shirt firmly as I pulled it up over his head and threw the garment behind me. With one arm still wrapped around my waist, the fingers of his free hand trailed up my back, pushing my top up with it as he deftly removed it from my torso and made short work of my bra.

My fingers wound themselves in the short hair at the back of his head as I pushed his face closer to my neck, eager to feel their wet heat against my neck again. I loosened the grip of my legs around his waist and quickly stood in front of him; my ravenous fingers trailing down his abdomen, feeling each movement of every bit of sinew within. My hands drifted to his beltline, desperately fumbling with his belt buckle ad zipper.

A small chuckle broke out of his lips. “A little eager, aren’t we?”

“Shut up and fuck me,” I demanded. The twitch of his cock through his briefs let me know that my instructions were going to be followed.

His fingertips expertly unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and in a flash, he had pushed them to the ground, gathered at my feet, along with my panties. I stook in front of him, fully naked, and consumed with absolute hunger and need for him. Ever so slowly he trailed his hand up across the outside of my thigh and in towards my core. I could feel myself throbbing, aching for his touch.

The gentle touch of the tip of his finger across my clit had me gasping once again as I watched a smile swipe across his face. I kept my eyes locked on his as the intensity of my need for him became evident as his finger dipped into my folds, caressing my clit on its way inside me. My muscles tighten, sucking his finger into me deeper as he added another digit. I leaned my head back, groaning out as he lazily stroked me over and over.

“Dean,” I cried out. “Faster.”

His actions sped up, but he pulled his finger back slightly, decreasing the pressure as I squirmed towards his touch and cried out, wanting.

Dean withdrew his fingers from me, leaving me bewildered. I stared at his face once again, ravenous, and unsatisfied, as that same devilish smile spread across his delicious lips. He bent his knees, nudging them into my legs as I followed his wordless command and fell to my knees, ignoring the hard-concrete floor beneath them. I watched as he made short work of removing his belt and shoving his own jeans down, adding them and his briefs to the pile of clothing in the corner. His right hand wrapped around his cock, thrusting it in and out of his grasp quickly, as if demonstrating its capabilities. Winding my fingers around his wrist, I ripped his hand away and replaced it with my own. I leaned closer, pursing my lips as I laid a wet, slow kiss at his tip, keeping my eyes locked on his as his mouth hung agape. Slowly, I pulled more and more of him into my mouth, coating him in my all too willing and abundant saliva. He slid into my mouth with such ease as I bobbed my head slowly, taking all of him in my mouth.

He groaned as he clasped his hands behind his head, thrusting his hips towards me, encouragingly. I lapped my hungry tongue at his tip, allowing my hand to take over the movements that my mouth had been performing. His head had leaned back, satisfied groans leaving his lips as I continued pumping him with my fist.

I smiled, self-satisfaction written on my face as I quickly took him into my mouth again, creating a warm pocket for him to bury himself in. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned out loudly. I slowed my movements, pulling back and away from him as I leaned backwards onto the floor, lying down flat on my back. Lifting one hand, I gestured to him with my pointer finger, beckoning him to join me. He followed instructions well as he leaned himself over me, his weight held on his knees as he quickly and forcefully thrust into me. My own groan of pleasure now burst from my mouth as he rhythmically thrust himself in and out of me.

His lips were back on mine; assaulting my mouth in ways I never knew were possible and thoroughly enjoyably so. He lifted one hand off the ground, placing it between us as his thumb found my clit and began rubbing forceful circles around and on it. My legs wrapped around him as I crossed my ankles, pulling him further and deeper into me. My breaths were coming out almost as screams now as I could feel my orgasm building; the coil within me so close to snapping into bliss.

He stopped short, as I whined my dissatisfaction and the slight pain of my release ebbing away set in. Dean’s fingers pushed my legs open and I unlocked my feet, allowing him movement again. I laid there stunned, as he grabbed my hips and flipped me over without any effort at all. The tips of his fingers ground into the front of my hips, eliciting me to back up closer to him, my ass in the air. The palm of his hand offered a pleasant sting as he brought it down onto my right cheek and pushed himself into me from behind.

A gasp that came out as though I were choking forced its way out of my mouth and I once again was reveling in the delirious pleasure that only Dean could offer. The friction he provided when he slid out and back into me as his hands held me furiously close to him. His pelvis continually butting up against my behind as that familiar pressure began building all over again.

I could feel him leaning closer to me as his chest came skin to skin with my back and his lips held themselves at my ear. “Is this what you wanted, huh? My cock buried this deep inside you?” He paused as if waiting for an answer. “Words, Y/N.” He chastised me as his thrusts slowed, coming almost to a stop.

“Yes! Fuck, yes! Don’t stop, Dean.” His lips grazed my shoulder with a timid kiss as his hips began moving once again, the break leaving me more sensitive than I had been before.

I could feel the coil winding again, quicker, and tighter than I could remember. Dean leaned forward once more, leaning his chest against my back as one hand wrapped around me and his fingers again found my nub. The movements of his digits were firm and precise, encouraging me to fall over the edge into oblivion.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” he all but demanded. His words were my undoing as I felt the pinnacle of pleasure pour over me. My legs losing all strength as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me. I felt his thrusts quicken as the rhythm became less and less on beat and he swelled within me, finding his own release as I twitched in response to his movements; the sensitivity of my nerves post-orgasm feeling overwhelming.

As he pulled out of me, I all but collapsed, allowing my legs to straighten out behind me as my stomach contacted the cold floor. He lay beside me after a moment, both of us out of breath and attempting to regain our composure.

“Damnit,” he blurted out, jumping to his feet quickly and running towards the table.

“Hmm?” I questioned, unwilling to move.

“Time for your shot,” he explained walking up to me slowly, the last of the syringes in his hand. I looked down at the floor beneath me to see that I was laying in the center of the devil’s trap, my head perched at the top of it.

I nodded slowly as I sat up and offered him my arm.

“Last one,” he said hopefully; still short of breath. I nodded once again. “What,” he asked quickly. “Eager to be done with it?”

I shook my head no, smiling as I took one last steadying deep breath. “Whatever gets me to round two quicker. And preferably on a softer surface.”

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