Dean/OFC fic: Rope on Fire, NC-17
Title: Rope on Fire
Author: annalazarus
Pairing: Dean/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Dean is 19 and thinks he knows everything there is to know about sex. He's wrong.
Notes: for cunnilingusfic, based on onelittlesleep's prompt: A girl touching at Dean's mouth and talking dirty. Telling him she wants that. But Dean's never. DONE THAT. Awkward, desperate refusal. And then slow convincing on the girl's behalf until Dean breaks and tentatively tries it.
Betas by the lovely and talented missyjack and oxoniensis. Title stolen from Morphine.
She worked in the karaoke bar next to the convenience store where Dean was making money to keep Sam in clothes that at least sort-of fit and stealing beer as a bonus. She came in three nights a week to buy cigarettes, always wearing one of five slightly-different black dresses.
Sometimes she bought a scratch ticket and made conversation while she tried her luck. She had a Northeastern accent-Dean wasn't sure if it was Boston or Maine or whatever-and she laughed like it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard when Dean told her he was 24. He was 19.
It didn't stop him from hitting on her every time she came in though. He threw her every line he'd ever heard, and she gave him a thumbs up or thumbs down depending on how much it sucked. When he tried "What can I buy you for breakfast?" she rolled her eyes and said, "Please. Like I'd let you stay until breakfast."
One evening he let her smoke in the store, and she spent her break at the counter, balancing on one foot then the other as she rolled her ankles to relieve the tension from wearing high heels on an eight hour shift. She told him how the guys who always ended up with a girl at the end of the night did it. "Generally, the bigger the hair the better your chances," she said. Her hair was blond with black streaks and fell sleekly to her shoulders. "That's if you’re going quantity over quality, of course."
Dean shrugged and said, "I work in a 7-11. I pretty much take what I can get."
"Yeah," she said. "You quit using those shit lines and you could raise your standards. You know, beyond 'over 18 and willing.'"
Dean didn't think 'over 18 and willing' was a low standard. He thought it was quite gentlemanly, actually. He also thought the backseat of his car was the best place on Earth to have sex, and he wasn’t gonna let her talk him out of that either.
She had blue eyes and wore too much eyeliner. Her arms and legs were bony. Dean liked to make her smile because it made her look young. He actually had no idea how old she was.
The night she won a hundred bucks on a Whole Lotta Luck scratcher, she grinned and said to Dean, "Do me a favor and tell me you're legal."
"I'm legal," Dean said. "What was that you said about standards besides 'over 18 and willing'?"
She peered at Dean skeptically and said, "Don't sell yourself short. Meet me next door at midnight, 'kay?"
He didn't have the Impala, which was a shame because, seriously, the backseat was awesome, but no way was he leaving his baby in the parking lot of a convenience store in a fucking one-horse town. That was just asking for trouble. She drove an itty bitty Nissan that appeared to be held together by duct tape, so Dean was going to suggest the alley behind the bar, but before he could get the words out, she'd wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed him against the car, her mouth hot on his.
With the heels, she was nearly as tall as him, and it was kind of mind-melting how perfect her body felt pressed to his. It was, he realized, the first time he'd ever touched her without three feet of formica counter between them. Yeah, the alley wasn't going to cut it.
She drove him back to her apartment, on the second floor of a creaky triple-decker. He put his hand on her back in the narrow stairwell, and she turned and kissed him, nearly knocking him down the stairs with the force of her body. At the top of the stairs, he kissed the back of her neck, where she tasted of soap and cigarette smoke, while she opened the door. She got a hand under his shirt and a leg around his waist in the dark hallway, and he wanted to fuck her right there, but she muttered, "Wait, wait," and pulled him to the bedroom at the end of the hall.
Dean felt a little dazed. He usually had to talk his way into a girl's bedroom. He wasn't entirely sure what to do next. Then she pulled her dress over her head, and Dean decided he was just going to thank god and do whatever the hell she wanted.
"Sit," she said, pointing to the bed. He did, and she straddled his lap, pressing his lips open with hers and sucking on his tongue. Dean groaned as she began to rock against him, grabbed her ass and shoved her against his cock.
She broke away from his mouth and laughed. "You're in a hurry," she said. "We're not gonna go quick, though," she whispered conspiratorially, licking at the corner of his mouth.
"Why not?" he growled, threading his fingers into her hair and turning her head to lick at her neck.
She melted against him for a moment, then pulled back. "Because," she said, then stopped to catch her breath. Dean took the opportunity to run his hands along her hips and belly. "Because I've been thinking about your mouth for months," she continued, touching her fingers to his lips. "Been getting myself off imagining your tongue on me."
Jesus, why hadn't he realized she'd be like this? For all their flirting, she'd always seemed kind of distant. Dean considered that maybe she'd been restraining herself from jumping over the counter and tearing his clothes off. "I can do that, baby," he murmured. "I'll lick you all over."
She huffed a warm breath against his neck and pulled back to look at him. She gave him a sharp grin and took his hand, pressed his fingers below the edge of her underwear. "Here," she whispered against his mouth. "I want you to lick me here."
Dean sucked in a breath. He wasn't so sure about this plan. He hadn't ever done that to a girl. Not that he was going to tell her. They didn't…they never asked, and anyway, he could get girls off with his hand, so why did he need to go spelunking down there anyway?
She was mouthing along his jawline and rubbing over his chest when he said, "I don't. I don't do that."
She leaned back and he could see her nipples, hard against the lace of her bra. "What," she started. "Oh. Right. You sure you're legal? I'm not gonna have to register as a sex offender or anything?"
Dean felt himself go red. "Look, do you want to have sex or not?" he said roughly. He didn't have to take this; he had...no, he had no other options. He'd have to talk her out of it. Shit.
"Yeah, definitely," she replied, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. "I'm pretty sure your tongue in my pussy counts as sex, though."
"I don't want…" Dean tried to object, but it was a little hard with her eating at his mouth.
"I can show you how," she murmured, wriggling out of her underwear and leaning back, and that...that was dirty pool, was what it was. He could see how wet she was. And okay, that was a view he never got in the backseat.
She caught his chin and made him look back up at her face. "It's a little like kissing," she said. "I like it like this to start." She licked lightly and rhythmically against his lower lip, and Dean felt his cock pulse in time. She hummed and slid off his lap, up to the headboard, then said, "Come on, Dean. Doesn't it turn you on that I fuck myself thinking about you eating me out?" She reached down and began rubbing her cunt with three fingers. Dean blinked, dizzy from the sudden rush of blood away from his head. She let her eyes drift closed, her breath growing ragged as she slid her fingers up and down.
Dean stood shakily and stripped off the last of his clothes. She watched him with bright eyes and climbed back into his lap as soon as he sat back down.
She rocked in his arms, still touching herself, and he could hardly hear her quick murmurs. "Please. Put your mouth on me. I wanna feel you. So bad. I need you to make me come." Dean could feel her pussy hot and wet against his thigh, and he wanted it-on his fingers, his mouth, his cock, anywhere he could get it. He had a suspicion he was being taken advantage of, but he really didn't care.
"I can make you come with my fingers," he whispered, but he wasn't objecting anymore, just trying to tell her that he wasn't totally clueless.
"That's good," she whispered back. "I think. Do the same things? But with your mouth?"
"Yeah," Dean breathed, head swimming.
He grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back, kissed all around her belly button, then moved up to suck on her nipples when he got nervous, which was stupid, because he'd killed fucking werewolves; a girl's cunt definitely shouldn't have scared him.
So when he felt her hands, gentle on the top of his head, but definitely guiding him down, he reached for her cunt and spread her open, rubbed with his fingertips, then shifted down until his shoulders rested between her bent knees.
He kissed along her inner leg, breathing quickly. Her scent was overwhelming, salty and strong. It reminded him of the first girl he'd slept with, how her parents went away for a weekend and they fucked on her bed so many times that they had to wash the sheets twice to get the sex-smell out.
Dean turned, licked along the crease of her leg, and felt his cock jump when she gasped. She grabbed his hair, and he went for it, licking her straight up and down a couple of times to get a feel for it. It wasn't exactly his new favorite thing, but her whimpered, "Oh, god," sure was.
He experimented: licked around her pussy, stroked her with the tip of his tongue, repeated the things that made her moan. She was so hot, blood so close to her skin. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to lick her all night. He wanted to ask if he was doing it right. Instead, he ran his lips over her clit.
She gasped and said, "Harder." He burrowed in a little closer, pushed his tongue against her and alternated between licking and rubbing at her clit with his mouth.
She was moaning steadily now, but Dean wasn't sure he could get her off like this. So he pressed a finger into her and nearly got his nose broken when she unexpectedly bucked up. "Sorry, sorry," he said, looking up and taking a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like hours.
"No. Good," she panted. "That. Good. You're a natural. Do it again."
Dean grinned and ducked his head, messily kissing her swollen cunt. He played at her opening with his tongue and fingertips. She pushed her hips down hard, and he slowly slid two fingers into her, tongued her steadily, patiently, until her thighs began to shake.
Dean moaned, dizzy with her smell all around him. Her wetness was all over his face and neck. He fucked her harder with his fingers, licked at her roughly until her body shook and jerked wildly. He kept at it until her litany of yesyesyesyes quieted. Then he moved up her body, rubbing his suddenly sore mouth all along her belly and breasts.
She hummed and rubbed her hands through his hair. She looked sleepy, and Dean hoped to god she wasn't about to pass out on him. He silently swore to himself that he'd never, ever do that to a girl again before getting her off. Then she opened her eyes and gave him a little smile.
"Not bad, for a first time," she said, reaching down and wrapping her slim hand around Dean's cock. "But you know," she sighed. "That's not all there is to it. There are all sorts of tricks that it might take you years to learn."
"You trying to discourage me?" he murmured, kind of liking how scratchy his voice sounded.
"Nope," she said, pushing his shoulder until he rolled onto his back. "Just that, you know, someone, might already know those tricks."
"Someone in this bed?" Dean said, smiling and palming her hips as she straddled him and rolled the condom on.
"Mmmm," she said, rubbing the head of his cock with her thumb. "I might be willing to give you a crash course."
"Might?" Dean replied, ending the word on a gasp as she sank onto his cock. He watched as a small shiver ran through her body.
"Definitely," she moaned, rolling her hips obscenely. "Definitely willing." She leaned forward until her hands rested on Dean's chest and began fucking him in earnest.
Dean figured that after all his hard work he was allowed to just lie back and enjoy himself. He closed his eyes and rocked up into her until he felt too hot all over. His mind flashed to her cunt pulsing against his tongue and he lost his breath as he came, his hips jerking hard against hers.
She rolled them onto their sides as Dean was still catching his breath, took care of the condom, and Dean hoped he'd remember to thank her for that. Then she was back, her mouth on his,kissing with her whole body. He could feel her everywhere. She touched his cheek and he mirrored the light touch on her hip. They went on like that, lips and fingertips exploring until Dean fell asleep.
She woke him up before sunrise and said, "Don't you take care of your brother?"
"Fuck," Dean muttered.
"I have coffee," she said. "No food though."
"Do I get breakfast at some point?" Dean said, smiling into the pillow.
He felt her lips at the nape of his neck. "Sure," she said. "If you're buying."
Author: annalazarus
Pairing: Dean/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Dean is 19 and thinks he knows everything there is to know about sex. He's wrong.
Notes: for cunnilingusfic, based on onelittlesleep's prompt: A girl touching at Dean's mouth and talking dirty. Telling him she wants that. But Dean's never. DONE THAT. Awkward, desperate refusal. And then slow convincing on the girl's behalf until Dean breaks and tentatively tries it.
Betas by the lovely and talented missyjack and oxoniensis. Title stolen from Morphine.
She worked in the karaoke bar next to the convenience store where Dean was making money to keep Sam in clothes that at least sort-of fit and stealing beer as a bonus. She came in three nights a week to buy cigarettes, always wearing one of five slightly-different black dresses.
Sometimes she bought a scratch ticket and made conversation while she tried her luck. She had a Northeastern accent-Dean wasn't sure if it was Boston or Maine or whatever-and she laughed like it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard when Dean told her he was 24. He was 19.
It didn't stop him from hitting on her every time she came in though. He threw her every line he'd ever heard, and she gave him a thumbs up or thumbs down depending on how much it sucked. When he tried "What can I buy you for breakfast?" she rolled her eyes and said, "Please. Like I'd let you stay until breakfast."
One evening he let her smoke in the store, and she spent her break at the counter, balancing on one foot then the other as she rolled her ankles to relieve the tension from wearing high heels on an eight hour shift. She told him how the guys who always ended up with a girl at the end of the night did it. "Generally, the bigger the hair the better your chances," she said. Her hair was blond with black streaks and fell sleekly to her shoulders. "That's if you’re going quantity over quality, of course."
Dean shrugged and said, "I work in a 7-11. I pretty much take what I can get."
"Yeah," she said. "You quit using those shit lines and you could raise your standards. You know, beyond 'over 18 and willing.'"
Dean didn't think 'over 18 and willing' was a low standard. He thought it was quite gentlemanly, actually. He also thought the backseat of his car was the best place on Earth to have sex, and he wasn’t gonna let her talk him out of that either.
She had blue eyes and wore too much eyeliner. Her arms and legs were bony. Dean liked to make her smile because it made her look young. He actually had no idea how old she was.
The night she won a hundred bucks on a Whole Lotta Luck scratcher, she grinned and said to Dean, "Do me a favor and tell me you're legal."
"I'm legal," Dean said. "What was that you said about standards besides 'over 18 and willing'?"
She peered at Dean skeptically and said, "Don't sell yourself short. Meet me next door at midnight, 'kay?"
He didn't have the Impala, which was a shame because, seriously, the backseat was awesome, but no way was he leaving his baby in the parking lot of a convenience store in a fucking one-horse town. That was just asking for trouble. She drove an itty bitty Nissan that appeared to be held together by duct tape, so Dean was going to suggest the alley behind the bar, but before he could get the words out, she'd wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed him against the car, her mouth hot on his.
With the heels, she was nearly as tall as him, and it was kind of mind-melting how perfect her body felt pressed to his. It was, he realized, the first time he'd ever touched her without three feet of formica counter between them. Yeah, the alley wasn't going to cut it.
She drove him back to her apartment, on the second floor of a creaky triple-decker. He put his hand on her back in the narrow stairwell, and she turned and kissed him, nearly knocking him down the stairs with the force of her body. At the top of the stairs, he kissed the back of her neck, where she tasted of soap and cigarette smoke, while she opened the door. She got a hand under his shirt and a leg around his waist in the dark hallway, and he wanted to fuck her right there, but she muttered, "Wait, wait," and pulled him to the bedroom at the end of the hall.
Dean felt a little dazed. He usually had to talk his way into a girl's bedroom. He wasn't entirely sure what to do next. Then she pulled her dress over her head, and Dean decided he was just going to thank god and do whatever the hell she wanted.
"Sit," she said, pointing to the bed. He did, and she straddled his lap, pressing his lips open with hers and sucking on his tongue. Dean groaned as she began to rock against him, grabbed her ass and shoved her against his cock.
She broke away from his mouth and laughed. "You're in a hurry," she said. "We're not gonna go quick, though," she whispered conspiratorially, licking at the corner of his mouth.
"Why not?" he growled, threading his fingers into her hair and turning her head to lick at her neck.
She melted against him for a moment, then pulled back. "Because," she said, then stopped to catch her breath. Dean took the opportunity to run his hands along her hips and belly. "Because I've been thinking about your mouth for months," she continued, touching her fingers to his lips. "Been getting myself off imagining your tongue on me."
Jesus, why hadn't he realized she'd be like this? For all their flirting, she'd always seemed kind of distant. Dean considered that maybe she'd been restraining herself from jumping over the counter and tearing his clothes off. "I can do that, baby," he murmured. "I'll lick you all over."
She huffed a warm breath against his neck and pulled back to look at him. She gave him a sharp grin and took his hand, pressed his fingers below the edge of her underwear. "Here," she whispered against his mouth. "I want you to lick me here."
Dean sucked in a breath. He wasn't so sure about this plan. He hadn't ever done that to a girl. Not that he was going to tell her. They didn't…they never asked, and anyway, he could get girls off with his hand, so why did he need to go spelunking down there anyway?
She was mouthing along his jawline and rubbing over his chest when he said, "I don't. I don't do that."
She leaned back and he could see her nipples, hard against the lace of her bra. "What," she started. "Oh. Right. You sure you're legal? I'm not gonna have to register as a sex offender or anything?"
Dean felt himself go red. "Look, do you want to have sex or not?" he said roughly. He didn't have to take this; he had...no, he had no other options. He'd have to talk her out of it. Shit.
"Yeah, definitely," she replied, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. "I'm pretty sure your tongue in my pussy counts as sex, though."
"I don't want…" Dean tried to object, but it was a little hard with her eating at his mouth.
"I can show you how," she murmured, wriggling out of her underwear and leaning back, and that...that was dirty pool, was what it was. He could see how wet she was. And okay, that was a view he never got in the backseat.
She caught his chin and made him look back up at her face. "It's a little like kissing," she said. "I like it like this to start." She licked lightly and rhythmically against his lower lip, and Dean felt his cock pulse in time. She hummed and slid off his lap, up to the headboard, then said, "Come on, Dean. Doesn't it turn you on that I fuck myself thinking about you eating me out?" She reached down and began rubbing her cunt with three fingers. Dean blinked, dizzy from the sudden rush of blood away from his head. She let her eyes drift closed, her breath growing ragged as she slid her fingers up and down.
Dean stood shakily and stripped off the last of his clothes. She watched him with bright eyes and climbed back into his lap as soon as he sat back down.
She rocked in his arms, still touching herself, and he could hardly hear her quick murmurs. "Please. Put your mouth on me. I wanna feel you. So bad. I need you to make me come." Dean could feel her pussy hot and wet against his thigh, and he wanted it-on his fingers, his mouth, his cock, anywhere he could get it. He had a suspicion he was being taken advantage of, but he really didn't care.
"I can make you come with my fingers," he whispered, but he wasn't objecting anymore, just trying to tell her that he wasn't totally clueless.
"That's good," she whispered back. "I think. Do the same things? But with your mouth?"
"Yeah," Dean breathed, head swimming.
He grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back, kissed all around her belly button, then moved up to suck on her nipples when he got nervous, which was stupid, because he'd killed fucking werewolves; a girl's cunt definitely shouldn't have scared him.
So when he felt her hands, gentle on the top of his head, but definitely guiding him down, he reached for her cunt and spread her open, rubbed with his fingertips, then shifted down until his shoulders rested between her bent knees.
He kissed along her inner leg, breathing quickly. Her scent was overwhelming, salty and strong. It reminded him of the first girl he'd slept with, how her parents went away for a weekend and they fucked on her bed so many times that they had to wash the sheets twice to get the sex-smell out.
Dean turned, licked along the crease of her leg, and felt his cock jump when she gasped. She grabbed his hair, and he went for it, licking her straight up and down a couple of times to get a feel for it. It wasn't exactly his new favorite thing, but her whimpered, "Oh, god," sure was.
He experimented: licked around her pussy, stroked her with the tip of his tongue, repeated the things that made her moan. She was so hot, blood so close to her skin. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to lick her all night. He wanted to ask if he was doing it right. Instead, he ran his lips over her clit.
She gasped and said, "Harder." He burrowed in a little closer, pushed his tongue against her and alternated between licking and rubbing at her clit with his mouth.
She was moaning steadily now, but Dean wasn't sure he could get her off like this. So he pressed a finger into her and nearly got his nose broken when she unexpectedly bucked up. "Sorry, sorry," he said, looking up and taking a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like hours.
"No. Good," she panted. "That. Good. You're a natural. Do it again."
Dean grinned and ducked his head, messily kissing her swollen cunt. He played at her opening with his tongue and fingertips. She pushed her hips down hard, and he slowly slid two fingers into her, tongued her steadily, patiently, until her thighs began to shake.
Dean moaned, dizzy with her smell all around him. Her wetness was all over his face and neck. He fucked her harder with his fingers, licked at her roughly until her body shook and jerked wildly. He kept at it until her litany of yesyesyesyes quieted. Then he moved up her body, rubbing his suddenly sore mouth all along her belly and breasts.
She hummed and rubbed her hands through his hair. She looked sleepy, and Dean hoped to god she wasn't about to pass out on him. He silently swore to himself that he'd never, ever do that to a girl again before getting her off. Then she opened her eyes and gave him a little smile.
"Not bad, for a first time," she said, reaching down and wrapping her slim hand around Dean's cock. "But you know," she sighed. "That's not all there is to it. There are all sorts of tricks that it might take you years to learn."
"You trying to discourage me?" he murmured, kind of liking how scratchy his voice sounded.
"Nope," she said, pushing his shoulder until he rolled onto his back. "Just that, you know, someone, might already know those tricks."
"Someone in this bed?" Dean said, smiling and palming her hips as she straddled him and rolled the condom on.
"Mmmm," she said, rubbing the head of his cock with her thumb. "I might be willing to give you a crash course."
"Might?" Dean replied, ending the word on a gasp as she sank onto his cock. He watched as a small shiver ran through her body.
"Definitely," she moaned, rolling her hips obscenely. "Definitely willing." She leaned forward until her hands rested on Dean's chest and began fucking him in earnest.
Dean figured that after all his hard work he was allowed to just lie back and enjoy himself. He closed his eyes and rocked up into her until he felt too hot all over. His mind flashed to her cunt pulsing against his tongue and he lost his breath as he came, his hips jerking hard against hers.
She rolled them onto their sides as Dean was still catching his breath, took care of the condom, and Dean hoped he'd remember to thank her for that. Then she was back, her mouth on his,kissing with her whole body. He could feel her everywhere. She touched his cheek and he mirrored the light touch on her hip. They went on like that, lips and fingertips exploring until Dean fell asleep.
She woke him up before sunrise and said, "Don't you take care of your brother?"
"Fuck," Dean muttered.
"I have coffee," she said. "No food though."
"Do I get breakfast at some point?" Dean said, smiling into the pillow.
He felt her lips at the nape of his neck. "Sure," she said. "If you're buying."