Fic: "Darkness Between the Fireflies," Dean/OFC, adult
This afternoon at work was slow, so I wrote some porn. Or, as I like to call it, "pulled a Nan."
"Darkness Between the Fireflies"
Dean/OFC (Kathleen from Common as a Winter Cold)
Notes: Takes place, eh, let's say post-series and before Common as a Winter Cold. Title stolen from Mason Jennings. Unbetaed because I am laaaazy.
They met up with Kathleen and her brothers in Southern Utah. Some dumbass teenagers in their Goth phase had managed to raise a whole mess of zombies, and it took the Murphys and Winchesters a solid weekend of sharp-shooting to re-kill them all.
Dean wanted to get going again as soon as possible, was itching to put the pedal to the floor and drive until he forgot the fucking undead stench, but Kathleen hooked a finger in his belt loop and said, "We're going camping at Zion for the rest of the week, and we've got an extra tent. Come along?" and Dean was powerless to resist. Times like these, he secretly suspected she might be a witch.
He looked to Sam for help, but Sam was already saying to Jimmy, "Can we get beef jerky?" and Dean just rolled his eyes and gave up.
They drove over to Kolob Canyon, stopping for a backcountry camping permit (because aside from the small arsenal in their basement, the Murphys were totally law-abiding citizens) and to buy extra food and water for Sam & Dean. Their campsite was full of red rocks and multi-colored sand, surrounded by dry brush, with a creek about a half a mile off. Dean kind of hated it. He longed for a lumpy motel bed and a goddamn toilet.
Of course, Sam freakin' loved it. He and Jimmy took off on a hike before they'd even finished putting up the tents. Dean was left to unpack the food, unroll the sleeping bags, and think about what a shitty idea this was. Sure, he and Kathleen were sharing a tent, but hello, the tents weren't exactly soundproof, and Dean really wanted to end at least one encounter with the Murphy boys without them threatening to kill him.
Kath kicked his ankle and said, "Cheer up, emo kid. We'll take a walk after dinner."
Well, it turned out that the Murphys had one other little area where they conveniently ignored the law: Pat's backpack was filled with Coors. So they drank and told tall tales about their own adventures, embellished their most recent exploit until they'd taken on an army of zombies with nothing but a box of rubber bands and a rusty paperclip.
Sam and Dean tried to figure out why Pat and Jimmy had Boston accents when they'd grown up in Arizona, and Kathleen tried to locate the Winchester's wandering Southern accent, finally settling on, "South Carotexasee." They roasted marshmallows over the little camping stove, and Sam was roundly mocked when he was the first to head to bed.
"Whatever. I killed more zombies than all y'all," he said with a yawn, which made them all start yawning. So as soon as Sam was snoring, they cleaned up and Jimmy and Pat turned in.
Kath slipped her hand into Dean's, smiled with just her lips and said, "If you're too tired, we can…"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Dean replied.
She smiled full then, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. It was cold, so she rolled up one of the sleeping bags to sling across her back and tossed a blanket at Dean to carry. They walked down to the creek; Kath surefooted with the flashlight, Dean stumbling and swearing behind her.
She led them straight to a large, flat boulder that cut into the bank of the stream. "Been out here before, huh?" Dean murmured.
"Nah," she said. "I wish. We used to come out here in the summer with whoever we were dating, but this was Jimmy's spot." She pulled a pistol out of the back of her jeans and laid it on the ground, then started untying her shoes. "He used to bring a shotgun along with him and tell us it wasn't his fault if we snuck up on him and he mistook us for a coyote."
Dean grinned and reached into his boot to toss his knife next to Kath's gun. "So where'd you go?"
Kathleen had her back to him, spreading out the blanket and sleeping bag. "Didn't usually have a boyfriend, actually," she said. She hopped onto the rock and pulled off her three layers of shirts. "Most of the boys were scared of me for some reason." She gave him a wolfish grin.
"Can't imagine why," Dean said, toeing off his boots and climbing up after her. He kissed her hard, because he knew her. He didn't have to start off nice.
She clamored into his lap, bit at his mouth, and for a minute it was more like wrestling than foreplay, ending with her on her belly, Dean breathing hot against her neck. "I hate you," she said breathlessly.
"I'm not afraid of you," Dean replied, biting behind her ear and feeling a shiver race through her body. He shifted his weight until he could unhook her bra and began licking his way across her back. She melted beneath him, breathed deep and uneven as he ran his teeth along her backbone, traced his tongue around her shoulder blades, sucked and kissed at the juncture of her neck and shoulders until she started shoving against him.
She found a rhythm, undulating so that her ass pressed and rubbed against his dick, and that just wasn't fair. So he flipped her over, realizing too late that the only thing more distracting than half-naked, writhing Kath on her belly was half-naked, writhing Kath on her back.
"God," he whispered as she reached for her zipper, brushing his hard-on, but too much of a tease to help him out.
He sat up on his knees, scrabbled at his fly. By the time he had his jeans undone, she was kissing him, pushing his shirt up, saying, "Jesus Christ, I forget how fucking hot you are. One of these days." She paused to push him back and begin mouthing down his chest, her tongue light and teasing, and Dean had totally forgotten she'd been talking when she finally continued, "One of these days, I'm going to tie you to my bed and climb all over you." Her lips closed over his cock and she sucked him down, pulling up excruciatingly slowly and tonguing at him before adding, "Won't stop until you beg me for a break."
He growled, grabbed her hair and threw her backwards, felt his dick pulse when he heard the breath rush from her lungs as her back hit the rock. He grabbed her thighs, shoving them apart as she reached up to clutch at his neck.
He fucked into her as she smashed her mouth to his, and there was no finesse or thought to it, just the pounding in his ears and the snap of his hips against hers, and Kathleen pressing at his stomach until he leaned up a little. Then there was Kath arching and panting yesyesyes, and coming so hard and loud he thought maybe she'd hurt herself. And then she was hot and pliant and shivering beneath him, and he wrapped her legs around him, and his arms around her, pressed his face hard into her neck and came.
Their harsh breathing echoed through the shallow canyon that held the creek. Kathleen was still shivering, so he pulled up the blanket and wrapped them in it. He kissed her, soft this time, because she didn't really seem to be all the way with him yet.
He looked up at the stars as she caught her breath and thought maybe camping wasn't so bad after all.
"Darkness Between the Fireflies"
Dean/OFC (Kathleen from Common as a Winter Cold)
Notes: Takes place, eh, let's say post-series and before Common as a Winter Cold. Title stolen from Mason Jennings. Unbetaed because I am laaaazy.
They met up with Kathleen and her brothers in Southern Utah. Some dumbass teenagers in their Goth phase had managed to raise a whole mess of zombies, and it took the Murphys and Winchesters a solid weekend of sharp-shooting to re-kill them all.
Dean wanted to get going again as soon as possible, was itching to put the pedal to the floor and drive until he forgot the fucking undead stench, but Kathleen hooked a finger in his belt loop and said, "We're going camping at Zion for the rest of the week, and we've got an extra tent. Come along?" and Dean was powerless to resist. Times like these, he secretly suspected she might be a witch.
He looked to Sam for help, but Sam was already saying to Jimmy, "Can we get beef jerky?" and Dean just rolled his eyes and gave up.
They drove over to Kolob Canyon, stopping for a backcountry camping permit (because aside from the small arsenal in their basement, the Murphys were totally law-abiding citizens) and to buy extra food and water for Sam & Dean. Their campsite was full of red rocks and multi-colored sand, surrounded by dry brush, with a creek about a half a mile off. Dean kind of hated it. He longed for a lumpy motel bed and a goddamn toilet.
Of course, Sam freakin' loved it. He and Jimmy took off on a hike before they'd even finished putting up the tents. Dean was left to unpack the food, unroll the sleeping bags, and think about what a shitty idea this was. Sure, he and Kathleen were sharing a tent, but hello, the tents weren't exactly soundproof, and Dean really wanted to end at least one encounter with the Murphy boys without them threatening to kill him.
Kath kicked his ankle and said, "Cheer up, emo kid. We'll take a walk after dinner."
Well, it turned out that the Murphys had one other little area where they conveniently ignored the law: Pat's backpack was filled with Coors. So they drank and told tall tales about their own adventures, embellished their most recent exploit until they'd taken on an army of zombies with nothing but a box of rubber bands and a rusty paperclip.
Sam and Dean tried to figure out why Pat and Jimmy had Boston accents when they'd grown up in Arizona, and Kathleen tried to locate the Winchester's wandering Southern accent, finally settling on, "South Carotexasee." They roasted marshmallows over the little camping stove, and Sam was roundly mocked when he was the first to head to bed.
"Whatever. I killed more zombies than all y'all," he said with a yawn, which made them all start yawning. So as soon as Sam was snoring, they cleaned up and Jimmy and Pat turned in.
Kath slipped her hand into Dean's, smiled with just her lips and said, "If you're too tired, we can…"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Dean replied.
She smiled full then, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. It was cold, so she rolled up one of the sleeping bags to sling across her back and tossed a blanket at Dean to carry. They walked down to the creek; Kath surefooted with the flashlight, Dean stumbling and swearing behind her.
She led them straight to a large, flat boulder that cut into the bank of the stream. "Been out here before, huh?" Dean murmured.
"Nah," she said. "I wish. We used to come out here in the summer with whoever we were dating, but this was Jimmy's spot." She pulled a pistol out of the back of her jeans and laid it on the ground, then started untying her shoes. "He used to bring a shotgun along with him and tell us it wasn't his fault if we snuck up on him and he mistook us for a coyote."
Dean grinned and reached into his boot to toss his knife next to Kath's gun. "So where'd you go?"
Kathleen had her back to him, spreading out the blanket and sleeping bag. "Didn't usually have a boyfriend, actually," she said. She hopped onto the rock and pulled off her three layers of shirts. "Most of the boys were scared of me for some reason." She gave him a wolfish grin.
"Can't imagine why," Dean said, toeing off his boots and climbing up after her. He kissed her hard, because he knew her. He didn't have to start off nice.
She clamored into his lap, bit at his mouth, and for a minute it was more like wrestling than foreplay, ending with her on her belly, Dean breathing hot against her neck. "I hate you," she said breathlessly.
"I'm not afraid of you," Dean replied, biting behind her ear and feeling a shiver race through her body. He shifted his weight until he could unhook her bra and began licking his way across her back. She melted beneath him, breathed deep and uneven as he ran his teeth along her backbone, traced his tongue around her shoulder blades, sucked and kissed at the juncture of her neck and shoulders until she started shoving against him.
She found a rhythm, undulating so that her ass pressed and rubbed against his dick, and that just wasn't fair. So he flipped her over, realizing too late that the only thing more distracting than half-naked, writhing Kath on her belly was half-naked, writhing Kath on her back.
"God," he whispered as she reached for her zipper, brushing his hard-on, but too much of a tease to help him out.
He sat up on his knees, scrabbled at his fly. By the time he had his jeans undone, she was kissing him, pushing his shirt up, saying, "Jesus Christ, I forget how fucking hot you are. One of these days." She paused to push him back and begin mouthing down his chest, her tongue light and teasing, and Dean had totally forgotten she'd been talking when she finally continued, "One of these days, I'm going to tie you to my bed and climb all over you." Her lips closed over his cock and she sucked him down, pulling up excruciatingly slowly and tonguing at him before adding, "Won't stop until you beg me for a break."
He growled, grabbed her hair and threw her backwards, felt his dick pulse when he heard the breath rush from her lungs as her back hit the rock. He grabbed her thighs, shoving them apart as she reached up to clutch at his neck.
He fucked into her as she smashed her mouth to his, and there was no finesse or thought to it, just the pounding in his ears and the snap of his hips against hers, and Kathleen pressing at his stomach until he leaned up a little. Then there was Kath arching and panting yesyesyes, and coming so hard and loud he thought maybe she'd hurt herself. And then she was hot and pliant and shivering beneath him, and he wrapped her legs around him, and his arms around her, pressed his face hard into her neck and came.
Their harsh breathing echoed through the shallow canyon that held the creek. Kathleen was still shivering, so he pulled up the blanket and wrapped them in it. He kissed her, soft this time, because she didn't really seem to be all the way with him yet.
He looked up at the stars as she caught her breath and thought maybe camping wasn't so bad after all.