Comment!porn - NC17; Supernatural/Buffy/Terminator: SCC; het
For phantisma's Comment!Porn Month (December 2008)
Crossovers
for amara_m
Supernatural/Buffy - Dean Winchester/Faith Lehane, monsters
"Not all monsters go bump in the night," Faith says, breathless, fingers white around the hilt of the knife pressed to Dean's throat.
Dean grins, eases another button free on her leather pants. "And not all things that go bump in the night are monsters."
"And which are you, Dean Winchester?" The knife presses in a little harder, razor edge just breaking the skin. Her eyes follow the trickle of blood that slips down tan skin.
"I'm the one who hunts the monsters," he whispers, fingers sliding into her pants, over damp curls, until he can plunge them deep into the core of her.
She keeps her eyes open, hips bucking against his hand. A flush rises, spreads under her pale skin, and dark eyes glitter with a kind of madness with which Dean is familiar. It's the madness of one who's seen too much, knows too much, and just wants to forget, if only for a little while.
Dean can help her out with that.
He eases another finger into her wet heat, twists his wrist a little so his thumb can rub over her clit. When she lunges forward, grinding down on his hand, tongue tangling with his, the knife is still there, and Dean welcomes the sting of it.
for softbluebuddy
Supernatural/Buffy - Dean Winchester/Faith Lehane, lapdance
"So tell me, Dean Winchester," she said, bending to murmur the words in his ear, "what is it you do for a living?"
Dean tried to focus on her question. He really did. But her tight ass and slim legs were encased in the tightest, softest, blackest leather he'd ever seen. And her top was practically non-existent. That, however, wasn't had his complete and undivided attention.
That honor belonged to the way she was bumping and grinding on his lap, hair flicking his face and throat as she swung her head around.
"I, uh..." He swallowed, tried again as she gave him the dirtiest smile he'd ever seen. "I'm a hunter."
"A hunter?" Her tongue slid over her bottom lip, offering a multitude of sinful delights that had his blood scrambling for his crotch. She stood, twisted her body in a way that shouldn't have been possible, and then suddenly that tight little ass was slipping and sliding and rubbing all over his growing erection. Which was, naturally, all too happy to see her.
"Yeah," he said, voice more husky than usual, hands rising to frame her hips.
She just pushed his hands away and twisted again. One leg lifted to rest on his shoulder, and she slid forward until her crotch was practically in his face. "And what," she said, hips gyrating, leg slipping off his shoulder until she was straddling his lap, grinding down on his erection, "do you hunt?"
"Uh..." Seriously, she wanted to talk right now? The heat poured off her in waves, searing him through leather and denim, and it couldn't be just his imagination that he could smell her arousal, see how wet she was for him. He tried to focus. "Things," he said, pleased with himself. "That go bump in the night."
Her rhythm faltered for a split-second, and then her arms wrapped around his shoulders so she could lean in, lips touching his earlobe. "Then it's your lucky day."
"It is?" If she kept writhing and rubbing on him like that, smelling as good as she did, it most certainly was going to be his lucky day.
"Mmhmm," she murmured, licking up his neck and pulling back just far enough to grasp his hand and slip it between her thighs. "See, I'm one of those things that go bump in the night."
Oh, fuck yes...
for azrealz_angel
Buffy/Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles - Faith Lehane/Derek Reese, killing time
She'd only meant to follow him for a while.
After all, he was a stranger in a not so nice area of town. Her area of town. And strangers weren't always a good thing in her experience. More often than not, they were trouble with a capital T. The sort of trouble that brought vampires and demons and other things that go bump in the night out to play.
She'd certainly never meant to let him catch her.
After all, she was The Slayer, regardless of what the brainless bit of blonde fluff wanted to think. And he was just another good-looking guy out for a midnight stroll in the wrong part of town. But he was either better than she realized, or she'd got careless. And she was never careless. Yet she'd turned the corner and ran right into him, bouncing off and ending up with an arm twisted up behind her back before she could say, "holy shit."
She definitely hadn't intended on giving him her name...or anything else.
Now, though, he was Derek, she was Faith, and she was backed against a filthy brick wall, cool night air touching her skin in places that never saw the sun. The coolness was replaced by warmth as he pressed against her, into her, in one long line of heat. She sighed her acceptance, not wanting to fight, and he started to move. Each thrust rocked her against the brick, each whisper of soft lips against her throat made her shiver. She clenched around him, locked her ankles in the small of his back, and urged him to go harder, faster, deeper. She could take it. And, from the feel of things, he wasn't going to have a problem keeping up with her.
She hadn't even thought of fucking him against the wall in a dark alley where any bum, junkie, or pimp could see.
There she was, though, with his cock deep inside her, moaning her release as he whispered incredibly detailed and dirty things in her ear. No, she hadn't planned any of this, but she had hours before she had to be somewhere and nothing better to do in the meantime.