Fic: The Quick and the Dirty. (2 fics. 1/1)
Last night I felt like writing some quick and dirty Chlean. Clarksmuse provided me with two very nice prompts, and Here are the results:
Fic #1 Quick Chlean (Schmoopy. Or at least as Schmoopy as Dean gets)
Prompt: Dean proposes to Chloe.
So, you want to?
Want to what?
You know?
Didn't we just?
What? No, not that. . . . Although now that you mention that, can we do it
again?
What that thing with the chair?
God yes.
First tell me what you were asking.
Do you want to . . . you know. getmarriedtome?
I didn't quite make that out. Were you mumbling?
I want to get married!. There! I said it. Are you happy?
Oh you mad, crazy romantic you!
That's it!
Dean . . . What are you doing.
Kidnapping you. What does it look like?
This isn't the way it's done.
You're the one who calls me a neanderthal, Chloe. If I want to kidnap you
away and marry you, then I will. How about Vegas?
How about yes.
. . .
Dean?
I didn't actually think you'd go for it.
You're not backing down now, are you?
Hell no!
Good
Good
Fine
Fine.
. . .
Dean?
Considering I'm wanted by the FBI, maybe we should do this in Mexico.
Fic #2 Dirty Chlean. (NC-17)
After not seeing each other for months, Chloe finds out just how kinky Dean is.
The second she stepped into her apartment, Chloe knew she wasn’t alone. When a hand clamped down on her mouth, her suspicions were confirmed.
Must be Thursday, she thought as a second hand snaked its way around her middle, and she was pulled back against a very lean, very hard body.
She reacted instinctively by kicking at ankle-height, raking a high-heel down the side of her attacker's leg. His grip relaxed and she twisted free. She was thankful now for Dinah’s martial arts lessons.
She planned to take out his kneecap next, but his words stopped her cold.
“Jeez, Chloe! It’s me!”
She dropped her confrontational stance as she recognized Dean’s low growl.
“Dean Winchester?”
“Last time I looked,” he snarled at her.
She frowned at him, and then slapped him in the shoulder.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Three Months, Dean. You didn’t call! You didn’t text me! Not even a ‘Hey Chloe! I’m not dead on the side of the road today!’ Or even a 'Hey Chloe! I heard things got freaky in Metropolis what with the whole insane alien general trying to take over the world. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay'.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? I came as fast as I could!”
“And then? And then? Oh, this is funny! And then you break into my apartment to grab me from behind like you’re going to play some kind of kinky rough sex game with me?” She drew back to hit him again. Like a striking snake, he grabbed her wrist, twisted it behind her, and pulled her to him.
Chloe looked up into hazel eyes that were half-wild with need. In that instant she knew that no matter what, Dean was going to fuck her that night.
“Less talking.” He crushed his lips to hers.
Chloe felt her knees go weak. She leaned heavily against him and rubbed her free hand over his short hair. He moaned in response to the sensation and broke off the kiss to lean into her ministrations like an overeager cat.
“Better,” he growled. Then he picked her up and carried her across the apartment to the bedroom. He had obviously been here, waiting for her for a while. Biding his time. The consummate hunter, picking his moment to strike: for the bed was prepared in advance.
A silken scarf lay innocuously at each corner. He had turned her bed into an altar to please some dark, carnal god. While she contemplated this, he sat her on her feet and stripped her artlessly. Then, he pulled a fifth scarf from his pocket and covered her eyes.
Her world narrowed to the sensations he created. He knew her body like a master musician knows a finely-tuned instrument. With his dexterous fingers, he played her curves just as skillfully.
Bound to the bed, Chloe knew a new sense of desperation. She was utterly at his mercy, and soon she was begging for his touch. Pleading to be filled with him.
She mewled in pleasure at the slightest brush of stubble along her inner thigh. The sting when he bit the side of her breast. His fingers exploring her slick heat.
“Please!”
“Please what?”
“Make love to me.”
She could feel that damned smirk against the breast that he had been suckling. She felt a coil of desire to think of the number of love bites that she would have in the morning. He was marking her as his. Each bite an unspoken warning to any other suitor of the consequences of touching her.
Then there was only him. Filling her. Stretching her. She sobbed out in desperation. With her legs bound, she couldn’t wrap them around him. And then he unbound them, and she was able to scissor them around him for the hard ride ahead.
He pressed her into the mattress, and she arched against him. Shuddered and cried his name as she came and felt him follow closely behind.
When their heartbeats returned to normal, he unbound her hands and kissed her.
“You able to stay long this time?” Chloe asked as she placed her head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat.
“Long enough to tie you up a few more times.”
“Didn’t know you were this kinky, Winchester,” she said agreeably.
“What can I say?” He gave a half-shrug. “You bring out the best in me.”
Fic #1 Quick Chlean (Schmoopy. Or at least as Schmoopy as Dean gets)
Prompt: Dean proposes to Chloe.
So, you want to?
Want to what?
You know?
Didn't we just?
What? No, not that. . . . Although now that you mention that, can we do it
again?
What that thing with the chair?
God yes.
First tell me what you were asking.
Do you want to . . . you know. getmarriedtome?
I didn't quite make that out. Were you mumbling?
I want to get married!. There! I said it. Are you happy?
Oh you mad, crazy romantic you!
That's it!
Dean . . . What are you doing.
Kidnapping you. What does it look like?
This isn't the way it's done.
You're the one who calls me a neanderthal, Chloe. If I want to kidnap you
away and marry you, then I will. How about Vegas?
How about yes.
. . .
Dean?
I didn't actually think you'd go for it.
You're not backing down now, are you?
Hell no!
Good
Good
Fine
Fine.
. . .
Dean?
Considering I'm wanted by the FBI, maybe we should do this in Mexico.
Fic #2 Dirty Chlean. (NC-17)
After not seeing each other for months, Chloe finds out just how kinky Dean is.
The second she stepped into her apartment, Chloe knew she wasn’t alone. When a hand clamped down on her mouth, her suspicions were confirmed.
Must be Thursday, she thought as a second hand snaked its way around her middle, and she was pulled back against a very lean, very hard body.
She reacted instinctively by kicking at ankle-height, raking a high-heel down the side of her attacker's leg. His grip relaxed and she twisted free. She was thankful now for Dinah’s martial arts lessons.
She planned to take out his kneecap next, but his words stopped her cold.
“Jeez, Chloe! It’s me!”
She dropped her confrontational stance as she recognized Dean’s low growl.
“Dean Winchester?”
“Last time I looked,” he snarled at her.
She frowned at him, and then slapped him in the shoulder.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Three Months, Dean. You didn’t call! You didn’t text me! Not even a ‘Hey Chloe! I’m not dead on the side of the road today!’ Or even a 'Hey Chloe! I heard things got freaky in Metropolis what with the whole insane alien general trying to take over the world. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay'.”
“I’m here, aren’t I? I came as fast as I could!”
“And then? And then? Oh, this is funny! And then you break into my apartment to grab me from behind like you’re going to play some kind of kinky rough sex game with me?” She drew back to hit him again. Like a striking snake, he grabbed her wrist, twisted it behind her, and pulled her to him.
Chloe looked up into hazel eyes that were half-wild with need. In that instant she knew that no matter what, Dean was going to fuck her that night.
“Less talking.” He crushed his lips to hers.
Chloe felt her knees go weak. She leaned heavily against him and rubbed her free hand over his short hair. He moaned in response to the sensation and broke off the kiss to lean into her ministrations like an overeager cat.
“Better,” he growled. Then he picked her up and carried her across the apartment to the bedroom. He had obviously been here, waiting for her for a while. Biding his time. The consummate hunter, picking his moment to strike: for the bed was prepared in advance.
A silken scarf lay innocuously at each corner. He had turned her bed into an altar to please some dark, carnal god. While she contemplated this, he sat her on her feet and stripped her artlessly. Then, he pulled a fifth scarf from his pocket and covered her eyes.
Her world narrowed to the sensations he created. He knew her body like a master musician knows a finely-tuned instrument. With his dexterous fingers, he played her curves just as skillfully.
Bound to the bed, Chloe knew a new sense of desperation. She was utterly at his mercy, and soon she was begging for his touch. Pleading to be filled with him.
She mewled in pleasure at the slightest brush of stubble along her inner thigh. The sting when he bit the side of her breast. His fingers exploring her slick heat.
“Please!”
“Please what?”
“Make love to me.”
She could feel that damned smirk against the breast that he had been suckling. She felt a coil of desire to think of the number of love bites that she would have in the morning. He was marking her as his. Each bite an unspoken warning to any other suitor of the consequences of touching her.
Then there was only him. Filling her. Stretching her. She sobbed out in desperation. With her legs bound, she couldn’t wrap them around him. And then he unbound them, and she was able to scissor them around him for the hard ride ahead.
He pressed her into the mattress, and she arched against him. Shuddered and cried his name as she came and felt him follow closely behind.
When their heartbeats returned to normal, he unbound her hands and kissed her.
“You able to stay long this time?” Chloe asked as she placed her head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat.
“Long enough to tie you up a few more times.”
“Didn’t know you were this kinky, Winchester,” she said agreeably.
“What can I say?” He gave a half-shrug. “You bring out the best in me.”