Zombies of Neptune - SPN/Crossovers - Prompt 29: Touch
Title: Zombies of Neptune
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: NC17
Disclaimer: All things Veronica Mars belong to Rob Thomas, et al. All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al.
Pairing: Sam/Veronica
Warning: Straight up PWP.
Claim: SPN/Crossovers at sam_slut_a_thon and 50_smutlets Oh, yeah, baby. I like to write the crossover kink. *smirk*
Prompt: #4: Caught! At sam_slut_a_thon and #29: Touch at 50_smutlets.
Summary: Zombies? Give me a break. This is Neptune, not New Orleans.
~*~*~
Zombies? Give me a break. This is Neptune, not New Orleans. Crystal wearing, shawl draped charlatans, reading palms in incense-filled shops - we have those, I’ll give you that much. But voodoo priestesses? Not hardly. Enter Sam Winchester, who turned my little world upside down while conveniently saving my life.
It all started out normally enough. One of the guys in her Wednesday morning class heard that she was the girl to see if he needed help out of a bad situation - totally not his fault, as usual - and so she’d taken the case, taken his payment for her services, and started trying to figure out if his little issue could be wound up as quickly and painlessly as possible. For her, not him. This guy was a grade A jerk, a frat boy of the lowest possible designation. He was scum and he didn’t really deserve her help.
That was why she charged him extra just to take the case. Hey, money was money and being a jerk didn’t make his money any less spendable than anyone else’s.
Things got weird about two days in when she was just starting to feel like she was getting somewhere with the case of his missing girlfriend - a girlfriend everyone else was sure had just run off with a mystery man even though no one could say for sure whether or not there had even been a mystery man in poor little Aly’s life. Everyone had a lot of opinions on the situation, but no one thought for one second that anything bad had happened to Aly.
“Everyone” was wrong in this instance.
Which was where the weird factor came into play.
“Let’s say I believe you,” Veronica said slowly, frowning up at the overly-tall man in front of her. “No, wait. I can’t even do that in a hypothetical sense right now. Zombies? Are you kidding me? Zombies don’t exist.”
Sam looked at her from under his too-long bangs, cocking his head to the side. A smile played across his lips. “Did you not just see the thing I rescued you from?”
“Could’ve been anything,” she protested, but the words sounded weak even to her own ears. Who was she kidding? As much as she wanted to believe that the freak that had put his hands all over her was just a very smelly, very stupid college kid in one of the best Halloween costumes she’d ever seen in her entire life - something had just been off about the entire thing.
Like when he’d tried - and failed, thanks to Sam - to take a bite out of her arm.
Okay, so maybe she should give this whole ‘zombie’ thing a little more credit than what it initially seemed to call for.
She cleared her throat and looked away from Sam’s smirking face. “Zombies, huh? So that’s what happened to Amy Monroy, I take it?”
“Don’t know,” Sam admitted. “But her disappearance seems to fit with the others in this area. Twenty-something under high stress suddenly goes missing - friends assume they just needed some time away.”
Veronica winced. That was the exact direction she’d been leaning towards before this little complication popped up. She turned back to Sam, crossing her arms over her chest. “So - what - you’re like a zombie killer or something? Seen too many horror movies, decided it would be fun?”
He laughed, bright and happy and completely at odds with the moodiness that she’d gotten from him for the most part since about thirty minutes ago, when he’d laid the zombie attacking her out flat, grabbed her arm, and hauled her away as fast as her legs could carry her (which wasn’t as fast as his could carry him, freakishly tall man that he was). This was a different laugh than even the sarcastic grins he’d given her.
She liked it more than she should, given the very recent, painful breakup between herself and Logan.
Very recent.
Very painful.
Did she mention the recent and painful part, because, yeah - it was both of those things.
“This is… my family business, I guess you could say.”
So, sort of like her following in her dad’s private investigative footsteps, then. Huh. Well, she could understand that. Sort of. In as much a way as she could understand anything that had to do with zombies.
Which was to say - not very much at all.
“Well, my family business and your family business seem to have run into each other,” she gave him a bright smile, fighting down that overwhelming sense of this can’t be right that came along with the whole supernatural and zombie thing.
Sam’s brother? There are so many words that could describe Dean Winchester. The first that comes to mind is arrogant. Cocky. Flirty. Overbearing. Chauvinistic, maybe. In other words, he reminded me a little too much of other men in my life. I was happy when he decided to go out and do some ‘research’ at a local bar. Which left me and Sam alone. Together. He was sweet, a little flirt, and shy in a way that made him seem so much more attractive than my insensitive ex. I was hurting, I’ll admit it. Logan had, once again, proven that men were the absolute scum of the earth. But then there was Sam. Sam who would give me one of those looks like he knew exactly what I was going through and, hey, we could talk if it would make me feel better. Right there, in the middle of trying to find this whacked out zombie-making voodoo priestess. Sam was great like that. Still, I didn’t want to be that girl, you know, the one out looking for rebound sex. And he didn’t want to be the boy getting used as a rebound. Funny, that didn’t stop us from doing it anyway. Best intentions and all that…
Veronica shivered as Sam’s fingers skimmed over the skin of her arm. Upwards, dancing just below the sleeve of her shirt, then back down. Over the curve of her bicep, tracing the crook of her elbow. They left a warm path as they traveled, like a glowing line upon her flesh. His fingers were long, perfectly proportional to the rest of him. And he liked using them. The boy certainly liked to touch and he was good at it, too. She was so not going to argue if he wanted to run them over every single inch of her body.
Which was apparently exactly what he wanted to do.
Veronica’s breath hissed inwards between her teeth as Sam let those wandering digits thread through the fingers of her hand. He brought the hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it with little open-mouthed touches; leaving slightly damp spots on her skin that flashed cool with every huff of his breath.
On some level, even as Sam was moving those hands lower to run blunt nails over the taut skin of her stomach, she knew this was wrong. She was using Sam because he made her feel good, something he seemed to be aware of, because he whispered into her lips, “Shhh, its okay.”
Then those lips moved against hers, pressing softly, just as the hand on her stomach, under her t-shirt, delved lower, fingers running along the waistband of her jeans in a touch so light that it almost tickled. They plucked at the little metal button, just enough for her to feel it, not enough to actually undo the catch. He was teasing her with the promise of something more while still giving her a chance to back out if she wanted to.
She didn’t.
She parted her lips against his, grabbing his bottom lip with her teeth, ready to show him just how un-backing-out she was feeling. He chuckled, low and husky. It was a bedroom laugh and completely at odds with the innocent-seeming man that she’d thought she was getting her hands on. Didn’t bother her at all, especially when she let go of his lip and he swooped in to take possession of her mouth. And that was what it was. Possession. His tongue pushed past her lips, twining with her own. He tasted like chocolate mocha frapaccino and fresh sugar cookies, the snack they’d picked up on the way back from his daring rescue of her when she was still trying to convince Sam to let her help.
He moaned into her mouth when she put her hands on his chest, nails scratching at him through the thin navy blue t-shirt he wore. She was glad he’d lost his hoodie the second they were in the motel room because Veronica wasn’t entirely sure she could keep herself in check long enough to divest him of multiple layers. As it was, this one shirt was proving more than annoying.
She let go of the sugar-coffee-sweetness of his mouth, gasping for breath as she tugged at the bottom of his shirt. His hands left their questing trail on her body, swatting her away so that he could lift the shirt up and over his head.
Oh, God. Veronica felt her brain do a little meltdown. She’d known that Sam was fit, could feel it through his shirt and had seen just how strong he was when he swung at that zombie that he’d saved her from. But none of that had really prepared her for right now.
“Wow,” she said, unable to stop herself. “Not the kind of body most guys would cover up with big, bulky clothes.”
Sam laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. There was a touch, of a blush on his cheeks and Veronica had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing at him. The shyness? It was cute.
But when Sam moved again, it was anything but shy, and any laughter Veronica might have been trying to repress died off immediately, never making it to the light of day. Those wonderfully tactile hands of his grabbed at her t-shirt, yanking it up and over her head. Nimble fingers made quick work of her bra. The cooled air of the motel room hardened her nipples. Or was that because of what Sam was doing? She really couldn’t tell and didn’t care. All she wanted was for Sam to just keep making her feel this good so that she could keep right on forgetting that her life had gotten weirder today.
It seemed that was exactly what Sam wanted, too. He ran his fingers down the side of her neck, one soft digit sliding over her collarbone. It trailed in a whispery touch down the middle of her chest, between her breasts. The room was warm and he hadn’t even come close to touching them, but the mere ghost of his fingers over her skin was enough to make her already hard nipples get that much tighter with the promise of touching and pinching. Maybe some gentle twisting? She pressed into his hand just enough to get her wish across.
“You’re a real hands on kind of guy, aren’t you?” Veronica managed to gasp out, those wonderfully long and strong fingers finding first one nipple, then the other. He rolled them between his fingers, gentle pressure turning harder, then back to that previous gentleness, a rolling wave of pleasure-come-pain. And she was pretty sure that if he just kept that up, those alternating light-medium-hard touches on her body, that she might cum from that alone. Just the way that he touched her.
She wasn’t too far off the mark with that. When his hand slipped down the front of her pants and his fingers pushed aside the now-damp cotton of her underwear, Veronica felt her world start to come undone.
One of his long fingers traced the outer edge of that wetness. It slid further between, into that wet heat, to flick over her clit. Coherent thoughts, much less words, left her at that point, her body trembling. When he pressed two fingers inside of her, Veronica felt herself fall. Her body tightened as pleasure rushed outwards, spreading from her head to her toes in waves of bright, scalding ecstasy. Against her mouth, Sam whispered little words of encouragement, shh’s and god, you’re so hot and that’s it, come for me.
He was still murmuring to her when her body relaxed into the mattress of the bed. He pulled back, looking down at her, waiting to see what she’d do next. If she’d do anything at all, she supposed.
No, that wasn’t how this was going to end; she hoped he knew that already.
One look in his eyes told her that he was certainly hoping she didn’t plan on stopping there. Even if it had been the best orgasm she’d ever had - and she wasn’t about to go out on that limb, not really - she wasn’t going to just leave him needy like this. She had manners.
“Your turn,” she murmured against his mouth when she finally felt like she could speak again without trembling. She popped the fly of his jeans, eyes taking in every little movement he made, the look on his face when she pressed her hand against his cock through his boxers, tracing it with her fingernails. She swallowed his moan with her mouth, tongue gently stroking along his, teasing and urging. He actually whimpered when she pulled him free of the cloth, her hand sliding up-down the silken shaft. He was bucking into her hand, needy and urgent. Veronica felt a little rush of pleasure as her body unconsciously responded to the sight and sound, the touch and feel, of Sam as he neared his own climax.
“Damn, Sammy. Nice job.”
“Fuck!” Veronica gasped, tearing her mouth from Sam’s.
Sam grunted in shock-turned-pleasure as he came suddenly, Veronica’s hand tightening on his cock even as she turned towards the door. Eyes wide and horrified, she felt her face burn.
“Should’ve chained the door from the inside, darlin’,” Dean drawled before winking and backing out of the room again.
In her hand, Sam twitched, the last of his orgasm subsiding just as quickly as it had come on him. She pulled her now-sticky hand away, feeling the blush all the way to the tips of her toes.
Sam laughed under his breath. “Well, that’s going to make things awkward for a few days.”
END
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: NC17
Disclaimer: All things Veronica Mars belong to Rob Thomas, et al. All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al.
Pairing: Sam/Veronica
Warning: Straight up PWP.
Claim: SPN/Crossovers at sam_slut_a_thon and 50_smutlets Oh, yeah, baby. I like to write the crossover kink. *smirk*
Prompt: #4: Caught! At sam_slut_a_thon and #29: Touch at 50_smutlets.
Summary: Zombies? Give me a break. This is Neptune, not New Orleans.
~*~*~
Zombies? Give me a break. This is Neptune, not New Orleans. Crystal wearing, shawl draped charlatans, reading palms in incense-filled shops - we have those, I’ll give you that much. But voodoo priestesses? Not hardly. Enter Sam Winchester, who turned my little world upside down while conveniently saving my life.
It all started out normally enough. One of the guys in her Wednesday morning class heard that she was the girl to see if he needed help out of a bad situation - totally not his fault, as usual - and so she’d taken the case, taken his payment for her services, and started trying to figure out if his little issue could be wound up as quickly and painlessly as possible. For her, not him. This guy was a grade A jerk, a frat boy of the lowest possible designation. He was scum and he didn’t really deserve her help.
That was why she charged him extra just to take the case. Hey, money was money and being a jerk didn’t make his money any less spendable than anyone else’s.
Things got weird about two days in when she was just starting to feel like she was getting somewhere with the case of his missing girlfriend - a girlfriend everyone else was sure had just run off with a mystery man even though no one could say for sure whether or not there had even been a mystery man in poor little Aly’s life. Everyone had a lot of opinions on the situation, but no one thought for one second that anything bad had happened to Aly.
“Everyone” was wrong in this instance.
Which was where the weird factor came into play.
“Let’s say I believe you,” Veronica said slowly, frowning up at the overly-tall man in front of her. “No, wait. I can’t even do that in a hypothetical sense right now. Zombies? Are you kidding me? Zombies don’t exist.”
Sam looked at her from under his too-long bangs, cocking his head to the side. A smile played across his lips. “Did you not just see the thing I rescued you from?”
“Could’ve been anything,” she protested, but the words sounded weak even to her own ears. Who was she kidding? As much as she wanted to believe that the freak that had put his hands all over her was just a very smelly, very stupid college kid in one of the best Halloween costumes she’d ever seen in her entire life - something had just been off about the entire thing.
Like when he’d tried - and failed, thanks to Sam - to take a bite out of her arm.
Okay, so maybe she should give this whole ‘zombie’ thing a little more credit than what it initially seemed to call for.
She cleared her throat and looked away from Sam’s smirking face. “Zombies, huh? So that’s what happened to Amy Monroy, I take it?”
“Don’t know,” Sam admitted. “But her disappearance seems to fit with the others in this area. Twenty-something under high stress suddenly goes missing - friends assume they just needed some time away.”
Veronica winced. That was the exact direction she’d been leaning towards before this little complication popped up. She turned back to Sam, crossing her arms over her chest. “So - what - you’re like a zombie killer or something? Seen too many horror movies, decided it would be fun?”
He laughed, bright and happy and completely at odds with the moodiness that she’d gotten from him for the most part since about thirty minutes ago, when he’d laid the zombie attacking her out flat, grabbed her arm, and hauled her away as fast as her legs could carry her (which wasn’t as fast as his could carry him, freakishly tall man that he was). This was a different laugh than even the sarcastic grins he’d given her.
She liked it more than she should, given the very recent, painful breakup between herself and Logan.
Very recent.
Very painful.
Did she mention the recent and painful part, because, yeah - it was both of those things.
“This is… my family business, I guess you could say.”
So, sort of like her following in her dad’s private investigative footsteps, then. Huh. Well, she could understand that. Sort of. In as much a way as she could understand anything that had to do with zombies.
Which was to say - not very much at all.
“Well, my family business and your family business seem to have run into each other,” she gave him a bright smile, fighting down that overwhelming sense of this can’t be right that came along with the whole supernatural and zombie thing.
Sam’s brother? There are so many words that could describe Dean Winchester. The first that comes to mind is arrogant. Cocky. Flirty. Overbearing. Chauvinistic, maybe. In other words, he reminded me a little too much of other men in my life. I was happy when he decided to go out and do some ‘research’ at a local bar. Which left me and Sam alone. Together. He was sweet, a little flirt, and shy in a way that made him seem so much more attractive than my insensitive ex. I was hurting, I’ll admit it. Logan had, once again, proven that men were the absolute scum of the earth. But then there was Sam. Sam who would give me one of those looks like he knew exactly what I was going through and, hey, we could talk if it would make me feel better. Right there, in the middle of trying to find this whacked out zombie-making voodoo priestess. Sam was great like that. Still, I didn’t want to be that girl, you know, the one out looking for rebound sex. And he didn’t want to be the boy getting used as a rebound. Funny, that didn’t stop us from doing it anyway. Best intentions and all that…
Veronica shivered as Sam’s fingers skimmed over the skin of her arm. Upwards, dancing just below the sleeve of her shirt, then back down. Over the curve of her bicep, tracing the crook of her elbow. They left a warm path as they traveled, like a glowing line upon her flesh. His fingers were long, perfectly proportional to the rest of him. And he liked using them. The boy certainly liked to touch and he was good at it, too. She was so not going to argue if he wanted to run them over every single inch of her body.
Which was apparently exactly what he wanted to do.
Veronica’s breath hissed inwards between her teeth as Sam let those wandering digits thread through the fingers of her hand. He brought the hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it with little open-mouthed touches; leaving slightly damp spots on her skin that flashed cool with every huff of his breath.
On some level, even as Sam was moving those hands lower to run blunt nails over the taut skin of her stomach, she knew this was wrong. She was using Sam because he made her feel good, something he seemed to be aware of, because he whispered into her lips, “Shhh, its okay.”
Then those lips moved against hers, pressing softly, just as the hand on her stomach, under her t-shirt, delved lower, fingers running along the waistband of her jeans in a touch so light that it almost tickled. They plucked at the little metal button, just enough for her to feel it, not enough to actually undo the catch. He was teasing her with the promise of something more while still giving her a chance to back out if she wanted to.
She didn’t.
She parted her lips against his, grabbing his bottom lip with her teeth, ready to show him just how un-backing-out she was feeling. He chuckled, low and husky. It was a bedroom laugh and completely at odds with the innocent-seeming man that she’d thought she was getting her hands on. Didn’t bother her at all, especially when she let go of his lip and he swooped in to take possession of her mouth. And that was what it was. Possession. His tongue pushed past her lips, twining with her own. He tasted like chocolate mocha frapaccino and fresh sugar cookies, the snack they’d picked up on the way back from his daring rescue of her when she was still trying to convince Sam to let her help.
He moaned into her mouth when she put her hands on his chest, nails scratching at him through the thin navy blue t-shirt he wore. She was glad he’d lost his hoodie the second they were in the motel room because Veronica wasn’t entirely sure she could keep herself in check long enough to divest him of multiple layers. As it was, this one shirt was proving more than annoying.
She let go of the sugar-coffee-sweetness of his mouth, gasping for breath as she tugged at the bottom of his shirt. His hands left their questing trail on her body, swatting her away so that he could lift the shirt up and over his head.
Oh, God. Veronica felt her brain do a little meltdown. She’d known that Sam was fit, could feel it through his shirt and had seen just how strong he was when he swung at that zombie that he’d saved her from. But none of that had really prepared her for right now.
“Wow,” she said, unable to stop herself. “Not the kind of body most guys would cover up with big, bulky clothes.”
Sam laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. There was a touch, of a blush on his cheeks and Veronica had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing at him. The shyness? It was cute.
But when Sam moved again, it was anything but shy, and any laughter Veronica might have been trying to repress died off immediately, never making it to the light of day. Those wonderfully tactile hands of his grabbed at her t-shirt, yanking it up and over her head. Nimble fingers made quick work of her bra. The cooled air of the motel room hardened her nipples. Or was that because of what Sam was doing? She really couldn’t tell and didn’t care. All she wanted was for Sam to just keep making her feel this good so that she could keep right on forgetting that her life had gotten weirder today.
It seemed that was exactly what Sam wanted, too. He ran his fingers down the side of her neck, one soft digit sliding over her collarbone. It trailed in a whispery touch down the middle of her chest, between her breasts. The room was warm and he hadn’t even come close to touching them, but the mere ghost of his fingers over her skin was enough to make her already hard nipples get that much tighter with the promise of touching and pinching. Maybe some gentle twisting? She pressed into his hand just enough to get her wish across.
“You’re a real hands on kind of guy, aren’t you?” Veronica managed to gasp out, those wonderfully long and strong fingers finding first one nipple, then the other. He rolled them between his fingers, gentle pressure turning harder, then back to that previous gentleness, a rolling wave of pleasure-come-pain. And she was pretty sure that if he just kept that up, those alternating light-medium-hard touches on her body, that she might cum from that alone. Just the way that he touched her.
She wasn’t too far off the mark with that. When his hand slipped down the front of her pants and his fingers pushed aside the now-damp cotton of her underwear, Veronica felt her world start to come undone.
One of his long fingers traced the outer edge of that wetness. It slid further between, into that wet heat, to flick over her clit. Coherent thoughts, much less words, left her at that point, her body trembling. When he pressed two fingers inside of her, Veronica felt herself fall. Her body tightened as pleasure rushed outwards, spreading from her head to her toes in waves of bright, scalding ecstasy. Against her mouth, Sam whispered little words of encouragement, shh’s and god, you’re so hot and that’s it, come for me.
He was still murmuring to her when her body relaxed into the mattress of the bed. He pulled back, looking down at her, waiting to see what she’d do next. If she’d do anything at all, she supposed.
No, that wasn’t how this was going to end; she hoped he knew that already.
One look in his eyes told her that he was certainly hoping she didn’t plan on stopping there. Even if it had been the best orgasm she’d ever had - and she wasn’t about to go out on that limb, not really - she wasn’t going to just leave him needy like this. She had manners.
“Your turn,” she murmured against his mouth when she finally felt like she could speak again without trembling. She popped the fly of his jeans, eyes taking in every little movement he made, the look on his face when she pressed her hand against his cock through his boxers, tracing it with her fingernails. She swallowed his moan with her mouth, tongue gently stroking along his, teasing and urging. He actually whimpered when she pulled him free of the cloth, her hand sliding up-down the silken shaft. He was bucking into her hand, needy and urgent. Veronica felt a little rush of pleasure as her body unconsciously responded to the sight and sound, the touch and feel, of Sam as he neared his own climax.
“Damn, Sammy. Nice job.”
“Fuck!” Veronica gasped, tearing her mouth from Sam’s.
Sam grunted in shock-turned-pleasure as he came suddenly, Veronica’s hand tightening on his cock even as she turned towards the door. Eyes wide and horrified, she felt her face burn.
“Should’ve chained the door from the inside, darlin’,” Dean drawled before winking and backing out of the room again.
In her hand, Sam twitched, the last of his orgasm subsiding just as quickly as it had come on him. She pulled her now-sticky hand away, feeling the blush all the way to the tips of her toes.
Sam laughed under his breath. “Well, that’s going to make things awkward for a few days.”
END