Are they worth it?
Title: Are they worth it? (AO3)
Pairing: Becky/Charlie
Type: romantic
Rating: NC-17
Medium (fic, art, icons, etc.): fic
Word Count (if applicable): 1343
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.
Summary: Charlie has traced the unpublished Supernatural books back to a 'Becky Rosen'. But Becky isn't willing to give the books up for free.
Warnings: Prostitution
Charlie felt ridiculous. She's never been at home in a suit or anything that wasn't running shoes and jeans. There was an envelope with ten grand in the pocket of her suit jacket and a fake ID right in front of it. She looked at the house one more time, this was the place, and got out of her car.
The walk and lawn weren't particularly well kept. The grass was long and the garden had gone to weed. There were heavy drapes over the windows and Charlie was glad for the thud of the gun against her thigh with every step. The Winchesters were rubbing off on her. Guns, fake IDs, what was next?
She knocked on the door. There was no bell and the wood was hard under she knuckles as she rapped twice.
"Hello?" The door slid open a few inches and Charlie could see a sliver of blond hair and the woman's face. "Can I help you?"
"I hope so." Charlie produced her fake badge. "Special Agent Hermione Chapel."
The door was thrown open. "You must be Charlie!" The woman embraced her and Charlie stood on the porch, frozen. "I've read all about you."
"Oh." Charlie let the woman pull her into her house.
"I'm Becky. You probably know that. Oh my god! I can't believe I get to meet you!"
Charlie nodded dumbly. The house was a little creepy. It reminded her of too many Buffy episodes where guys went crazy over girls, only this was the other way around. The entrance way and what she could see of the living room seemed to be a shrine dedicated to Supernatural. Posters hung on all the walls, hard copies of the books, little trinkets that looked handmade, the whole thing made Charlie's skin crawl.
"Are you still on the lamb?" Becky asked, she closed the door and moved the curtain to peer out the window. "Hiding from the leviathans? Oh, is that why you used a fake name?"
"No." Charlie followed Becky into the living room. "I actually wanted to talk to you."
Becky's eyes shined a little too brightly. "Really?!?" Her voice squeaked. "Of course, what can I do?"
"I need copies of all the Supernatural books." Charlie looked at the leather bound hard cover collection. "Including the later ones which were only released online. I thought it was fanfic at first, but it was definitely Edlund's work."
"Chuck? Yeah, he keeps sending me stuff." Becky grinned. "We dated for a couple years."
"That's nice." Charlie tried to count the books on the table. There was at least fifty of them, she hadn't read that many yet. There was a lot of important information just sitting there, she could use it. There weren't many easier ways to research.
"I've got all the books." Becky said and Charlie made eye contact with her. Something about the superfan really set off all her warning bells.
"Great." Charlie forced a smile. "I've got a flashdrive."
"What are you willing to do for them?" Becky asked and she fidgeted in the armchair across the from the couch.
Charlie produced the envelope of money from her pocket. "I'm willing to pay-"
"Not like that." Becky undid the first button on her blouse. "I read, I read in the books that you, that you like. . ." She motions to her body, her voice only a whisper.
"Just because I like women, doesn't mean I like you." Charlie clarified. She didn't like every woman she saw, that wasn't how it worked.
"But for the books?" Becky had three buttons undone now and she tugged out the edge of her bra. It was not attractive, in any way, shape, or form.
Charlie swallowed and thought of the things Sam and Dean had put themselves through over the years flashed through her head. Maybe if she'd had a couple of drinks and they were in a gay bar, maybe then she'd go home with Becky. The over the top Supernatural paraphernalia probably would have scared her away then too.
"I'm not kissing you, no toys either." Charlie unbuttoned her suit jacket. "Maximum two hours. Then you give me the books and I don't want to hear from you."
"Agreed." Becky smiled and her tone of voice reminded Charlie of Season 7, Time for a Wedding. This is probably a mistake.
Charlie sets a timer on her phone and followed Becky up the stairs. There's a photograph of Sam hanging over the Queen sized bed and Charlie wondered what Sam would think if he knew Becky had a mostly naked picture of him. She pushes it out of her head and kicks off her heels. Her suit jacket and button down get folded and set neatly over the back of a chair, there's no iron in her car, at least not the kind of iron you need to clean clothes.
"How do we start?" Becky asked and she had stripped down to her underwear, granny panties and a camisole over an ancient looking bra.
"Lay back. No talking." Charlie ordered and she pushed Becky's shoulders back on the bed. They hit the mattress with a thud and Charlie's lips were only a few inches away from Becky's mouth. But she said no kissing and she meant it.
Charlie hiked up Becky's camisole and reached under the other woman to unhook her bra. She sucks lightly on one nipple and flicks her thumb over the other. Becky shuddered beneath her and Charlie wanted to pull away. Her own underwear are still bone dry and she slid her hand down Becky's abdomen to play with the threadbare lace at the edge of her underwear.
Becky was wet and Charlie scooched herself down until her face was situated in a better position. She pulled down Becky's underwear and looked at the mess of matted hair in front of her face. The curls were stuck together and Charlie had to carefully work them apart to spread Becky's outer lips open.
"Oh."
"Problem?" Charlie looked up, her fingers still holding Becky open.
"Just, I wasn't expecting it to feel like that."
"Ah." Charlie didn't have anything to say to that. She stroked her fingers over the wet pink skin and made sure to avoid Becky's clit. She was saving that for later. Two hours seemed like a long time and Charlie liked to think she was good enough to bed to tire someone out, until their body physically could not come again.
Becky didn't taste very good. Charlie licked at her tentatively, poking at the clit with her tongue, there was something musty and gross about Becky. It was almost as bad as a penis. Charlie had gone down on a guy once, she'd been fifteen and they'd just finished playing Dungeons and Dragons. She puked on him and that was pretty much the end of it with dudes. His boner had died when she puked on him, but she remembered him tasting a bit like Becky did.
The woman was clearly starving for affection and a physical touch, other than her own. It didn't take Charlie long to have her squirming on the bed and between tongue and fingers, Charlie coaxed Becky's first orgasm out of her in twenty minutes.
"Wow!" Becky gasped. Her chest was heaving up and down and Charlie pinched one of her nipples. "Ow!"
Charlie shrugged and pulled her hand back down. "Ready to go again?"
Becky propped herself up on her elbows. "Again?"
"You aren't do, are you?" Charlie asked. She didn't usually end an encounter after a single orgasm, but if Becky was willing to pay up now, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.
"I mean, usually. . ."
Charlie sighed. "There is still an hour and a half on the clock."
Becky blushed. "I-I guess I could go again. I'm not giving it away!"
"You certainly are not." Charlie looked down at Becky's matted pubic hair and wondered what it would take to convince the blond to move the party to the shower.
Pairing: Becky/Charlie
Type: romantic
Rating: NC-17
Medium (fic, art, icons, etc.): fic
Word Count (if applicable): 1343
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.
Summary: Charlie has traced the unpublished Supernatural books back to a 'Becky Rosen'. But Becky isn't willing to give the books up for free.
Warnings: Prostitution
Charlie felt ridiculous. She's never been at home in a suit or anything that wasn't running shoes and jeans. There was an envelope with ten grand in the pocket of her suit jacket and a fake ID right in front of it. She looked at the house one more time, this was the place, and got out of her car.
The walk and lawn weren't particularly well kept. The grass was long and the garden had gone to weed. There were heavy drapes over the windows and Charlie was glad for the thud of the gun against her thigh with every step. The Winchesters were rubbing off on her. Guns, fake IDs, what was next?
She knocked on the door. There was no bell and the wood was hard under she knuckles as she rapped twice.
"Hello?" The door slid open a few inches and Charlie could see a sliver of blond hair and the woman's face. "Can I help you?"
"I hope so." Charlie produced her fake badge. "Special Agent Hermione Chapel."
The door was thrown open. "You must be Charlie!" The woman embraced her and Charlie stood on the porch, frozen. "I've read all about you."
"Oh." Charlie let the woman pull her into her house.
"I'm Becky. You probably know that. Oh my god! I can't believe I get to meet you!"
Charlie nodded dumbly. The house was a little creepy. It reminded her of too many Buffy episodes where guys went crazy over girls, only this was the other way around. The entrance way and what she could see of the living room seemed to be a shrine dedicated to Supernatural. Posters hung on all the walls, hard copies of the books, little trinkets that looked handmade, the whole thing made Charlie's skin crawl.
"Are you still on the lamb?" Becky asked, she closed the door and moved the curtain to peer out the window. "Hiding from the leviathans? Oh, is that why you used a fake name?"
"No." Charlie followed Becky into the living room. "I actually wanted to talk to you."
Becky's eyes shined a little too brightly. "Really?!?" Her voice squeaked. "Of course, what can I do?"
"I need copies of all the Supernatural books." Charlie looked at the leather bound hard cover collection. "Including the later ones which were only released online. I thought it was fanfic at first, but it was definitely Edlund's work."
"Chuck? Yeah, he keeps sending me stuff." Becky grinned. "We dated for a couple years."
"That's nice." Charlie tried to count the books on the table. There was at least fifty of them, she hadn't read that many yet. There was a lot of important information just sitting there, she could use it. There weren't many easier ways to research.
"I've got all the books." Becky said and Charlie made eye contact with her. Something about the superfan really set off all her warning bells.
"Great." Charlie forced a smile. "I've got a flashdrive."
"What are you willing to do for them?" Becky asked and she fidgeted in the armchair across the from the couch.
Charlie produced the envelope of money from her pocket. "I'm willing to pay-"
"Not like that." Becky undid the first button on her blouse. "I read, I read in the books that you, that you like. . ." She motions to her body, her voice only a whisper.
"Just because I like women, doesn't mean I like you." Charlie clarified. She didn't like every woman she saw, that wasn't how it worked.
"But for the books?" Becky had three buttons undone now and she tugged out the edge of her bra. It was not attractive, in any way, shape, or form.
Charlie swallowed and thought of the things Sam and Dean had put themselves through over the years flashed through her head. Maybe if she'd had a couple of drinks and they were in a gay bar, maybe then she'd go home with Becky. The over the top Supernatural paraphernalia probably would have scared her away then too.
"I'm not kissing you, no toys either." Charlie unbuttoned her suit jacket. "Maximum two hours. Then you give me the books and I don't want to hear from you."
"Agreed." Becky smiled and her tone of voice reminded Charlie of Season 7, Time for a Wedding. This is probably a mistake.
Charlie sets a timer on her phone and followed Becky up the stairs. There's a photograph of Sam hanging over the Queen sized bed and Charlie wondered what Sam would think if he knew Becky had a mostly naked picture of him. She pushes it out of her head and kicks off her heels. Her suit jacket and button down get folded and set neatly over the back of a chair, there's no iron in her car, at least not the kind of iron you need to clean clothes.
"How do we start?" Becky asked and she had stripped down to her underwear, granny panties and a camisole over an ancient looking bra.
"Lay back. No talking." Charlie ordered and she pushed Becky's shoulders back on the bed. They hit the mattress with a thud and Charlie's lips were only a few inches away from Becky's mouth. But she said no kissing and she meant it.
Charlie hiked up Becky's camisole and reached under the other woman to unhook her bra. She sucks lightly on one nipple and flicks her thumb over the other. Becky shuddered beneath her and Charlie wanted to pull away. Her own underwear are still bone dry and she slid her hand down Becky's abdomen to play with the threadbare lace at the edge of her underwear.
Becky was wet and Charlie scooched herself down until her face was situated in a better position. She pulled down Becky's underwear and looked at the mess of matted hair in front of her face. The curls were stuck together and Charlie had to carefully work them apart to spread Becky's outer lips open.
"Oh."
"Problem?" Charlie looked up, her fingers still holding Becky open.
"Just, I wasn't expecting it to feel like that."
"Ah." Charlie didn't have anything to say to that. She stroked her fingers over the wet pink skin and made sure to avoid Becky's clit. She was saving that for later. Two hours seemed like a long time and Charlie liked to think she was good enough to bed to tire someone out, until their body physically could not come again.
Becky didn't taste very good. Charlie licked at her tentatively, poking at the clit with her tongue, there was something musty and gross about Becky. It was almost as bad as a penis. Charlie had gone down on a guy once, she'd been fifteen and they'd just finished playing Dungeons and Dragons. She puked on him and that was pretty much the end of it with dudes. His boner had died when she puked on him, but she remembered him tasting a bit like Becky did.
The woman was clearly starving for affection and a physical touch, other than her own. It didn't take Charlie long to have her squirming on the bed and between tongue and fingers, Charlie coaxed Becky's first orgasm out of her in twenty minutes.
"Wow!" Becky gasped. Her chest was heaving up and down and Charlie pinched one of her nipples. "Ow!"
Charlie shrugged and pulled her hand back down. "Ready to go again?"
Becky propped herself up on her elbows. "Again?"
"You aren't do, are you?" Charlie asked. She didn't usually end an encounter after a single orgasm, but if Becky was willing to pay up now, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.
"I mean, usually. . ."
Charlie sighed. "There is still an hour and a half on the clock."
Becky blushed. "I-I guess I could go again. I'm not giving it away!"
"You certainly are not." Charlie looked down at Becky's matted pubic hair and wondered what it would take to convince the blond to move the party to the shower.