Supernatural & Twilight Drabbles
So, I was cleaning up my computer, and found a bunch of random drabbles and snapshot fics that just... never really got posted. Most are commentfics (I believe), some are just sections of other fics I know I'll never finish. SPN and Twilight fandom here only, I decided to just scrap out my Heroes drabbles, especially since I had over 20 that were Matt/Moho, I just couldn't be bothered, sorry. They're all unbeta'd (obviously), and some may not even be spellchecked, lol, apologies. These are all just kind of odds and ends, so be warned. XD
Supernatural
Supernatural - Sam/Dean - Rated PG-13
It's not the first time that Dean looks at Sam in that way he knows he shouldn't. It's not the first time he's tried to turn away, or hate himself for what he's thinking. It's not the first time he feels that sickness, somewhere deep in the base of his chest, a spinning sort of illness that makes everything start to crumble. But, it's the first time, the very first time... that Dean doesn't even mind.
And this is the problem.
At first, it was explainable. He's been protective over Sam for as long as he can remember, watching his back, tending to his wounds, putting him to bed when he's too trashed to do it himself. All those years, all of that co-dependency, well... it's gotta add up to something, right? And, so, Dean accepted it as that. His mind was confused, associating Sam with all the wrong types of feelings. But eventually, it got worse.
And now, it's downright corrosive.
Dean's aware of this fact, all too aware, to be honest. How could he possibly ignore it, now that it's the only thing on his mind? Sam's lips, Sam's hands, Sam's legs, look at Sam. Dean is screwed, royally fucked, because Dean Winchester is in love with his little brother.
It's not the first time Sam catches Dean looking at him, in this way that is almost predatory. It's not the first time Dean's cleared his throat, walking away to hide his blush. It's not the first time that he realizes Dean isn't listening anymore, he's just watching, just looking, like Sam's the girl with a tray full of free drinks. But, it's the first time, the very first time... that Sam doesn't even mind.
And this is the problem.
At first, it was ignorable. He's been living with Dean for as long as he can remember, learning from him, supporting him, pushing him into the shower when he's too trashed to do it himself. All those years, all of that co-dependency, well... it's gotta add up to something right? And so, Sam accepted it as that. Sam was the one who'd been confused, misreading Dean's actions as the wrong types of emotions. But eventually, it got worse.
And now, it's downright unmistakable.
Sam's aware of this fact, all too aware, to be honest. He doesn't even try to ignore it, because it's the only thing on his mind. Dean's eyes, Dean's arms, Dean's mouth, look at Dean. Sam is fucked, royally screwed, because....
Sam Winchester can't ignore it anymore.
But, he'll fight it, he knows. And Dean will, too. Because this is their job; saving people, hunting things. And whatever this is, this thing that's radiating between them, well, it's just gonna have to wait. Because, Sam's afraid, and Dean's afraid, that if it doesn't... it might tear them apart.
And maybe one day, maybe later, when the people are saved, and the things are all hunted, then maybe it will be their time.
Supernatural - Chuck/Gabriel - Rated R
Chuck's never sure why Gabriel stays. When they Winchesters don't, he means. Sometimes, when they visit, they bring Gabriel and Castiel with them. Well, no. They usually bring Cas.
They sometimes bring Gabe.
Chuck likes him, he likes them all, really. But, something about Gabriel kind of makes him uneasy, with the way he... does that thing he's doing now.
Gabriel is sitting beside him on the couch, and Chuck can't really complain. He's licking his fingers, sucking the sugar off of his skin. Chuck's not even entirely sure what exactly he's eating. But... he still can't really complain. Because this is what Gabriel does when the boys leave. He gets sticky and sappy and sweet.
And Chuck? Well, he kinda likes it.
He won't admit this, of course, because dude, what? But he's accepted it as fact by now, and hey, who can really blame him? Gabriel has a pretty mouth. And Chuck's pretty sure that he wants to taste it. He's watching Gabriel suck at his fingers, licking chocolate and icing and whipped cream and --
"Hmmm--" Gabriel's pleasured moan is cut off easily as Chuck presses against him, clashing their lips together finally. Gabriel doesn't push him away, and that's a small mercy for Chuck, who feels like his skin is about to burst into flames. Chuck knew how much he wanted to taste Gabriel's mouth, always knew that he was itching to kiss him. But it wasn't until this moment, that he realized how much he's wanted to touch him.
Chuck's hands fumble over Gabriel's clothes, tugging at his shirt, pulling at his pants, until Gabriel is laying flat beneath him. Chuck bites at the angel's lips, licks at his tounge, and is only vaguely aware of the fact that his own lips are getting sticky, covered in sugar, and maybe... that's not such a bad thing? Because Gabriel is kissing back, tounge licking over Chuck's lips, sucking and biting at his skin.
Chuck thinks that maybe, from now on, the boys should always bring Gabriel.
-End-
Supernatural - Anna/Jo - Rated PG
Jo was annoyed, hating that hair, that smile, that voice, and it wasn't jealousy. At least, not quite. Jo didn't care that Anna was obviously, well... doing something with Dean. They were subtle about it, and it was almost imperceptible. It was something that no one else had picked up on, she was sure. But Jo noticed because Jo was paying attention. And it took her a moment too long to realize that her attention wasn't focused on Dean.
The door closed behind her with a loud and heavy bang, as she shut herself in the back of the Roadhouse. The Winchesters had shown up the night before, brand new, shiny little angel in tow. And Jo had sat down with her, talked to her, learned her. And it took less than an hour for there to be something , something between them that Jo couldn't put a name to, wasn't even sure if she'd felt before.
She was shaken from her thoughts as she heard another bang, identical to the one she'd made with door. She looked up to find that it had come from the same source, as Anna leaned up against the wood.
"I've come looking for you." Anna said the words quizzically, softly, almost as if it were a question.
"Well, you've found me." Jo shrugged as she leaned against a table, bracing herself on her hands before hopping up to sit on top of it.
"Why... why are you in here?" Anna's eyes flickered around the room as she moved across the floor, taking long, slow strides.
"It's quiet, I guess." Jo shook her head, not really sure. She rarely left when they had company, company she liked, anyway. And she did like Sam and Dean, she liked them very much. But perhaps... "And I guess I knew you'd follow me." She confirmed the words she was thinking.
"Of course," Anna smiled as she reached the table, keeping a foot of space between herself and Jo.
Jo smirked suspiciously, playfully, as she studied Anna's face. There was something there, something almost mischievous, and Jo was sure she liked it. "What's up?" She questioned with a mocking sort of edge.
"What?" Anna smiled in a way that was chipper, campy almost, and Jo laughed.
"You look shady right now." Jo said in her most serious, warning tone, knowing that the spark in her eyes was ruining the effect.
Anna just looked to the window at her side, face twisted into something playfully pensive, and something in Jo snapped. She knew why she hated Anna now. She hated what she did to her.
"Come here." Jo said the words quickly, loudly, a command more than a request.
"What?"
"Come." Jo raised her eyebrows, "Here."
Anna closed the space easily, and Jo didn't waste any time. She let one hand fall to Anna's waist, spreading teasingly along her hip, as the other rose to rest along the side of her neck, pulling her in closer.
"Jo?" Anna's voice was high and unsure, barely making it's way out before Jo pressed their mouths together. Anna tasted like oxygen and watermelon, and something acidic, something like... absinthe. Jo deepened the kiss greedily, desperate to get drunk off the taste while she had it there, offered to her, because she knew that as soon as that door opened, as soon as this kiss broke, the moment would be gone, over forever, and Anna would be Dean's, and Jo would be stuck here.
Anna pulled away just slightly, a tiny movement, before pressing against Jo harder than she had been to begin with. She let her hands rest on Jo's legs, spread around Anna, tight jeans over heated skin. Anna made a noise, a small, needy sound in the back of her throat, and Jo jumped as she heard a bang on the door.
"Mmm... A minute!" She broke away only long to mumble out the words, but whoever it was wasn't listening. The door creaked open, sticking for a moment, and Anna didn't have the sense to move away. Jo pushed at her hips, letting her hands stray just thisfar from innocent territory, as Dean poked into the room.
"Ellen's lookin' for you." He nodded his head toward Jo, eyes on Anna, who's eyes were... on Jo.
"Yeah, okay." Jo snapped the words out more harshly than she'd intended as Dean shut the door, but it didn't matter. The moment really was gone.
"Jo?" Anna questioned again, sounding more demanding of an answer this time.
"I'm sorry, Anna." Jo closed her eyes tight, realizing she'd just taken advantage of a goddamn angel.
"No, Jo..." Anna stuttered her words, shaking her head defiantly. "Please don't be sorry."
Anna smiled as she spoke.
"I liked it."
-End-
Supernatural - Sam/Gabriel - Rated G
"And your total will be twenty-seven dollars and thirty-nine cents." The cashier said the words with a smile that was far too bright. Nobody who worked at a gas station should ever be that happy. Dean bit back the urge to yell out "demon!" as he pushed the cash across the scuffed up counter.
"Oh hey, wait up." Sam slid up to the counter, almost knocking Dean over as he halted to a stop, bending to study the shelves of candy lined up along the front of the desk.
"Whoa there, Sammy." Dean raised an eyebrow as he watched Sam pile bags of skittles into his arms. "Pretty sure there's no pot of gold at the end of that rainbow..."
"It's not for me, Dean." Sam huffed out the words like it should have been obvious.
Dean opened his mouth to argue or ask, he wasn't sure which. But the words refused to come out, because he knew what this was about.
"You're buying..." Dean leaned over the counter to look at the total that the cashier rang up, "seventeen dollars worth of skittles... for Gabriel. Aren't you." The question really wasn't much of a question at all. It wasn't the first time this had happened. In fact, it wasn't even the second. Dean had sort of lost count at eight.
Sam smiled sheepishly as he pulled out his wallet. "Maybe?"
Dean just rolled his eyes as he pushed his way out of the station, bell tinkling over the door.
"Thank you, sir, and have a good day."
Supernatural - Dean/Ash - Rated NC17
Dean slumped into the couch, falling lower and deeper with each shot glass he emptied. He was warm and numb and dizzied, a comfortable sort of chaos. The Roadhouse was warm, humid and damp, it's walls not able to fight off the summer heat. He could hear voices, one voice, somewhere in the distance. But, in reality, that voice was not so distant at all.
Dean kept his eyes closed as he felt a heavy weight on his lap, legs straddling him clumsily. His hands rose to fumble over denim and flannel, and he didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was. Ash laughed softly, unsteadily, as his foot knocked the bottle of whiskey off the table in front of the couch. It fell to the floor with a crack and a crash as their mouths pressed together.
Dean leaned further back, one arm wrapped around his friend's back, the other hand gripping loosely over his hip. Ash bit at Dean's lips, licking into his mouth, and Dean just let him. There was no point in fighting it, he didn't even want to. He'd had thoughts like this, of Ash like this, once, maybe twice, maybe more. They were only ever thoughts, just fleeting, blurred images running a marathon in his mind, always disappearing as quickly as they'd formed. But now, this was real, Ash in his lap, hands in his hair, mouth on his lips. And oh yeah, it was good.
Ash pulled at Dean's belt, fingers strong and sure as they worked over the leather. Dean was hit by a moment of panic, hard and fast and sickening, before all his doubts were eaten away, trumped by the feeling of Ash's hand, warm and soft, gripping him tight as Dean hardened under his fingers.
Dean swallowed down a knot of insecurity, wondering why this felt so strange. It shouldn't be, not so much, not really. Ash was a good guy, and it definitely wasn't the guy part that had Dean on edge. He bit down on his bottom lip as Ash tightened his grip, stroking harder and faster as each moment went by. Dean realized then that it wasn't insecurity that was making his mind spin. It was something else, something... unexpected. It was the lack of discomfort that had him uncomfortable. It felt good and right and somehow familiar, Ash on his lap, jerking him off, kising at his neck, his mouth, his jaw. It felt so fucking good.
"Ash -- " Dean opened his eyes finally as his warning was cut off by a moan. His voice came out broken and rough as Ash quickened his pace, getting him off without breaking a damn sweat. Dean felt his hands twitch against Ash's body, pulling him closer, holding him tight as he came hot and hard into his fist. It was like a kick, like a punch, burning and searing and quick. He bit into Ash's shoulder, trying to keep quiet, despite knowing that he really didn't have to.
"Damn," Ash sighed out the word, staying pressed tightly against Dean's body.
"Mmm?" Dean questioned wordlessly, still breathless and sated and boneless and blissful.
"I should get you drunk more often." Ash laughed softly, voice tainted by the sound of a smile that Dean didn't see, as he kept his face pressed against his shoulder.
Dean just grinned against a rough denim vest, feeling sleep possess him. He would never tell Ash the words he was thinking.
-End-
Supernatural - Dean/Adam - Rated PG
Adam huffed in amusement as Dean slid into the seat next to his, spreading his leather jacket across their legs. It was dark in the theatre as the previews rolled on the screen, loud and staticked in their ears.
"You know... I'm not a chick. You don't need to--"
"I don't need to treat you right?" Dean cut off Adam's words, turning toward him as he finally got comfortable. "Just let me do this."
Adam grinned in the darkness, secretly and silently thrilled that anyone would want to treat him right. He'd had this thing going with Dean for a while, not long, a week at most. It'd started the moment they met, an instant attraction that was like a punch to the gut. It felt wrong at first, felt weird to look at a guy and get all fluttery like he did around his girlfriends, or girls he wished were his girlfriends, or, well... really just girls in general. But it'd really started to become something a week ago, when they'd shared a bed and, well, nothing had happened. Not unless you call a lot of awkward blushing and flirting something. Adam would deny it to this day, but Dean just did things to him that made him act like a fucking chick, and Adam? He didn't mind so much. Not anymore.
He watched Dean smirk into the darkness, eyes glued to the screen as he slowly wrapped one arm around Adam's shoulders, pulling him closer just slightly. Adam bit his bottom lip softly, trying desperately not to grin stupidly like that first night, that first time Dean had accidentally brushed their hands together (even though Adam had an unconfirmed suspicion that that wasn't actually an accident). He sunk into Dean's warmth, jacket heating his lap, as he too kept his eyes on the screen.
Dean laughed at something, something Adam had missed, too immersed in his own thoughts to catch what had happened. He turned to face Dean, giving him a questioning look, and was immediately warmed by the fact that he didn't have to put his thoughts into words for Dean to know what he was asking.
"That girl," Dean pointed casually at the screen, "she claims that her dude," he swung his hand across the picture "has the sexiest body in the goddamn world." Dean chuckled softly in amusement, and Adam still wasn't getting it.
"Why is that funny?" He questioned softly, using the pretense of a whisper to shift closer to Dean. Dean looked at Adam incredulously, shaking his head slowly, in that way that Adam's teachers would sometimes do when he just didn't get it.
"She's insane." Dean shrugged. "And quite possibly mentally damaged," he added easily, before wrapping his arm tighter around Adam's shoulders, shifting the position from comfortable sprawl to possessive claim. "The sexiest body is not on that screen," Dean's voice was low as he ran his eyes over Adam's chest, down his stomach, and Adam blushed. He blushed fucking hard.
Oh yeah. Adam got it now.
He turned away quickly, looking down at his lap, covered in brown leather. Dean's leather. Dean had shifted again, pulling him closer once more, and Adam was pressed up tightly against his side. He had a fleeting moment of panic, wondering randomly if anyone could see the resemblance between him and Dean because... well, that would be weird. Because other people wouldn't get it, would never understand their situation.
"I mean," Dean cleared his throat suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them, "not that I, you know, check out a lot of dudes or anything, I don't--"
"I know, Dean." Adam grinned widely, having heard this speech at least eighty-one times. It'd first came only a few days ago, as they sat on some wooden milk crates behind an old supermarket in the middle of the night. Dean had his fingers tangled in a leather bracelet that Adam wore, pinned between the strap and Adam's skin, moving slowly, strokingly softly at Adam's wrist as he talked. Dean had spoken erratically, and Adam could tell it was because of him. And, really, why wouldn't it be?
"I... it's not... it's just you, Adam. I've never really... been attracted to men before. I mean, at all. I'm definitely not gay, and I'm pretty damn sure I'm not even bi. But.... I guess it's just that... when I think about it, it makes sense, you know. All the girls I've dated? They've had good qualities, you know, but they always had flaws too. And I always worked, worked real damn hard to accept those flaws, and all their stupid habits and issues, just because the good stuff about them was worth it. So, you... I mean, you're really kind of amazing, Adam. You don't really... I don't have to change myself for you. And I don't have to change you for me. So if I was willing to work through all that shit with girls, just for a few months, even weeks, of something good, then... well... a lifetime of something good with you is worth learning to like dick for."
Adam bit back a laugh in the darkness, feeling it build up in his chest, threatening to tumble out at any minute as he remembered Dean's words. Dean spread his palm wide over Adam's arm, gripping him tightly, pulling him close, and Adam just let him. He sank easily against his side, fully leaning on him now, and he closed his eyes as he felt Dean's hand move from his arm to his hair, carding through it softly.
Adam's laughter faded away, but his smile stayed, warm and comfortable, as he laid against Dean in the darkness, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. He had no issues, no worries, no insecurities, because Dean had been right; being together was easy.
And Adam had a feeling he was going to have a lot of easy in his future.
-End-
Supernatural - Ed/Corbett - Rated PG
Ed was laying in his hotel bed, arms crossed over his chest, face twisted into a scowl. He was hurtin', man! In his heart. Or his stomach. Or something. The room was empty, save for the smell of French Vanilla, and the memory of Corbett, Corbett's ghost, more specifically. He was their fallen facer, a comrade who was missed terribly. He'd trailed them to Comic Con, and Harry made his jokes. "Oh, he came here for you, Ed!" and "You're the love of his life, Ed!" And Ed was thinking about that now, all angry and shit as he tried to fall asleep.
"I brought you a French Vanilla, Ed!" Corbett smiled brightly and, well, brightly. He grabbed for Ed's hand, wrapping it around the warm cardboard cup.
"Razor," Ed grinned easily, slapping Corbett on the back as he took a drink of perfect warmth.
"I also brought you this box of chocolates," Corbett slid the box across the table beside them, Ed's name scrawled neatly on the top.
"I'm allergic to nuts, Cor --"
"I know! I mean, I thought maybe. So, I mean... nut free!" Corbett's smile went into megawatt mode. "Also, uh, this ring."
"What?" Ed's face twisted into confusion as Corbett fumbled through his pockets, coming up with a ring box, all black and satiny.
"I bought you a ring! I mean, nothing serious, you know, just solid silver and all, but --"
"Ed?"
Ed was woken up by his name being called, called by Harry, fucking Harry, all smiley and not going through some weird gay crisis.
"What's wrong, Ed?" Harry's voice was tentative as his eyes went wide, hands held out in front of him.
"Oh god, Harry!" Ed flung himself off the bed, crossing the room in quick strides, tripping over a desk leg along the journey, falling into Harry's arms.
"Whoa! Chillax! I mean... that means chill!" Harry explained. "And also relax!"
"No!" Ed cried into Harry's shoulder, sobbing the same way he did when Xena got cancelled. "Harry! I shoulda been gay for that poor dead intern!" Ed yelled the words, fisting his hand in Harry's shirt. "I shoulda been gay for him." He whispered softly, quietly, and Harry floundered for words.
Ed cried until he fell asleep. Harry sat on the floor, wide-eyed and shell shocked. And someplace, somewhere, Alan J. Corbett was watching.
And he was a very happy man.
-End-
Supernatural - Ruby/Ellen - Rated NC17
Ellen was roused from her sleep, woken slowly and peacefully, a fact that was more disturbing than comfortable. She'd been sleeping with one eye open since she was young, always alert, always ready, because Ellen was a hunter. A hunter first, and --
"A lover second," Ruby replied to Ellen's unspoken words, a habit that always had Ellen on edge.
"A mother second." Ellen corrected as Ruby's figure came into focus, crawling over her in the early morning darkness. Her body was warm, soft, sinful, clothes tight and dark, all leathers and denims. Ellen closed her eyes, still held by sleep as Ruby bent to trace her tounge over Ellen's neck, a teasing, wet stroke over heated flesh.
"Not what you told me last time," Ruby mocked playfully, pulling the blanket down Ellen's body as her hands wandered over her nightshirt. Ellen had a moment of doubt, a moment where she wanted to push the girl away. She needed to sleep, needed to be alert in the morning, needed to not be getting her pussy rubbed by some disgustingly talented demon. But, it was too late for that, and Ellen had lost her battle.
"Were you about to tell me to stop?" Ruby leaned over Ellen's body, straddling her thighs as she lilted the words into her ear, hand working over the white cotton between Ellen's legs. Ellen bit back a moan, determined not to give Ruby the satisfaction of knowing that she'd already earned herself that priviledged sound. "No one ever has the power to tell me to stop, Ellen." Ruby's eyes were dark and solid. Ellen's heart hammered for a moment as she realized that lust wasn't the reason behind that. But then, Ruby's hand played over the band of Ellen's panties, pulling and snapping softly, before pushing in against her flesh.
"You won't even try, now, will you?" Ruby shook her head fondly, in a way a parent would patronize a child. Ellen opened her mouth to snap back, sure she had something witty to say. But, it was all washed away as Ruby's fingers found her clit, brushing against the already wet flesh, which Ellen would deny was for her.
"Oh, come on, Mrs.Harvelle." Ruby grinned, a wolf in waiting. "Tell me to stop." Her voice lowered as her eyes flickered, and Ellen arched up into her touch as her fingers played over her hole, soft, wet noises breaking the silence in the room. Ellen wanted to speak, to yell, to say something, but all that she could manage was a moan, a single word; "More."
Ruby laughed darkly as she crawled further up the bed, pulling Ellen's panties off with a quick and practiced ease. Ellen took a deep breath as Ruby spread her legs, pushing them far apart, spreading her wide open. "The lady wants more," Ruby lilted in a mocking tone, playful and terrifying all at once as she pressed two fingers into Ellen's hole, tight and wet and aching.
Ellen swallowed hard, still denying Ruby the knowledge of knowing how good it really was. She felt Ruby add another finger, pushing them in deep as her thumb rubbed over her clit. Ellen bent one arm up over her head, gripping the side of her pillow as Ruby fucked into her.
"What's wrong, Ellen? Gonna tell me to leave now?" Ruby was far too amused, and it would have been fucking annoying, would have earned her a shot to the face, if Ellen was in the right state of mind. But she wasn't thinking clearly, not now. Because now, she was coming hard, body flaming as her pussy throbbed around Ruby's fingers, tightening up as she cried out words that she'd later forget she'd ever even known. It was hot and cold and soft and sharp, a confliction by all means. Ellen slumped against the mattress, boneless and sated, breathless as Ruby slowly slipped her fingers away, leaving small, teasing touches over glistening flesh along the way.
"Stop," Ellen finally gasped out, too sex wrecked to care that the request was now useless. Ruby giggled, a sound that was almost innocent and childish, as she pressed a kiss to Ellen's lips. Her voice was low and utterly demon as she whispered one last word before leaving; "Never."
-End-
Supernatural RPS - Richard/Jared - Rated G
"How did you find me so quickly?" Jared smiled as Richard sided next to him, a welcome face in the sea of strangers around them.
"Are you kidding?" Richard quirked an eyebrow as he leaned into Jared, trying to be heard over the bustle of people. "You're like a foot taller than everyone in this room!"
Jared laughed as he shook his head, not buying into Richard's logic. "I'm sitting down!" Jared gestured to the couch that he was getting quite comfortable on.
Richard shrugged sheepishly as he dropped down to the couch, handing a drink to Jared. "Maybe it's like a sixth sense."
"Maybe you were looking for me?" Jared's reply came quickly, and he bit back a smile as Richard's face flushed just slightly.
"Maybe I'm glad I found you?" Richard said the words to the floor, focusing on the way his foot was pressed against Jared's.
"Maybe... I'm glad you found me too." Jared smiled softly as he shifted on the couch, letting his arm brush against Richard's.
And if Jensen stopped dead in his tracks on his way through the room an hour later, eyes catching Richard, all wrapped up in Jared's lap, fingers entwined and lips whispering softly, well... he didn't say anything about it.
Supernatural RPS - Jared/Misha - Rated G
Jared was warm and numb, body comfortably sunken into the soft depths of his bed. He was slipping away from coherent thought, letting the tender darkness of his mind slowly kaladiscope into an array of soft colors and shapes. His mama's face, faded and blurred and comforting behind his eyelids. Harley laying against Sadie as she chewed on Jensen's shoe, something he would no doubt laugh at by the time he got home. In the back of his mind, he heard it softly, a strumming guitar, the chords of some country song that Christian said he'd written when he was twelve. He was sure that would be the last thing he though of, the last thing to caress him before he fell into a dark pool, resting easily after a hard day's night. But then he felt it; a soft, slow touch that stretched out past the expanse of skin that had actually been stroked, sinking into his bones as he heard the words.
"Goodnight, Jay." Misha's voice was low and soft, a sad sort of harmony that synced to the guitar. His body was soft over Jared's, warm and radiating, burying Jared under a familiar sort of comfort.
"Goodnight, Angel," Jared whispered against the smooth skin of Misha's palm as he pressed one kiss to the lines of his hand. And maybe Chris's guitar was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep. But it was different now, an old memory entwined with a new one. An instrumental that finally had a title.
Twilight
(The twilight drabbles are all extremely short, as they were for a meme where fills were required to be less than 200 words)
Twilight - Rosalie/Victoria - Rated G
Rosalie was strong. She was solid and knowing and wise and so... so weak. Victoria. Oh... Victoria. Her eyes, so deep, so dark, so daring. Her body, so soft, so hard, all at once. Her hair, strands of passion, red fire spread over the pillow. And this... this was why Rosalie had become weak. She'd found a weakness, a burning need to be, to have, to touch, to taste. And Victoria was spiteful; always leaving. Always going! But Rosalie wouldn't fight. She wouldn't complain or beg or protest. Victoria could leave, go as she pleased. As long as she came back. Rose would be waiting.
Twilight - Jacob/Jasper - Rated PG-13
The woods. Always the woods. It was a quiet place, secluded and dark. Always dark... almost. Jacob hated the sunrise, the way the light would puncture through the branches, dancing low along the floor of the forest, warming the leaves, the grass, the moss that they'd laid on. Jasper kept quiet, never once complained. He never protested or moaned, never showed any anger at the sun. The sunrise. And sometimes, Jacob wondered why. He'd wonder why Jasper would leave so easily, never look back, never linger for that extra second. The sunrise was like a chime, an alarm, some sort of reminder that this couldn't last. It wasn't the fairy tale that they'd been living all night, together in the darkness, on the ground, in the mud, through the leaves. Soft kisses, hard fucks, warm smiles, all broken by the sunrise. And Jasper never once looked back.
It'd bothered Jacob at first. Wasn't he worth that second glance? But eventually... eventually he realized that the sun would fade, and Jasper would come back. A Few hours of daylight was no match for what they had.
Twilight - Jasper/Emmett/Edward - Rated R
"You're never home anymore, Edward," Jasper's eyes were dark and pleading, distracting Edward from the feeling of Emmett's hands running down his chest, fumbling over his belt. Jasper was doing something to him, something... something that had nothing to do with power or ability. Just need, want, lust.
"You really..." Emmett's voice was low and rough as he snapped at Edward's belt, "need to start spending more time with us." He whispered the words against Edward's ear, and Edward's eyes slipped shut as Jasper's hands slid into his pants with ease, a practiced motion, despite the fact that... they'd never done this before. They couldn't, this was wrong! It was immoral for reasons too abundant to count. There was --
"Oh," Edward's breath caught in his throat as Emmett kissed at his neck. Rosalie.
"You like that?" Emmett growled against Edward's skin as Jasper kissed along his hip. Alice.
"W-wait..." Edward tried, train of thought fading fast as Jasper's mouth closed around him, swallowing him down, hot and deep. Bella.
Edward struggled for a moment, a fleeting second of conflict before finally answering; "Yes." Vegas.
______________________________________________
Supernatural
Supernatural - Sam/Dean - Rated PG-13
It's not the first time that Dean looks at Sam in that way he knows he shouldn't. It's not the first time he's tried to turn away, or hate himself for what he's thinking. It's not the first time he feels that sickness, somewhere deep in the base of his chest, a spinning sort of illness that makes everything start to crumble. But, it's the first time, the very first time... that Dean doesn't even mind.
And this is the problem.
At first, it was explainable. He's been protective over Sam for as long as he can remember, watching his back, tending to his wounds, putting him to bed when he's too trashed to do it himself. All those years, all of that co-dependency, well... it's gotta add up to something, right? And, so, Dean accepted it as that. His mind was confused, associating Sam with all the wrong types of feelings. But eventually, it got worse.
And now, it's downright corrosive.
Dean's aware of this fact, all too aware, to be honest. How could he possibly ignore it, now that it's the only thing on his mind? Sam's lips, Sam's hands, Sam's legs, look at Sam. Dean is screwed, royally fucked, because Dean Winchester is in love with his little brother.
It's not the first time Sam catches Dean looking at him, in this way that is almost predatory. It's not the first time Dean's cleared his throat, walking away to hide his blush. It's not the first time that he realizes Dean isn't listening anymore, he's just watching, just looking, like Sam's the girl with a tray full of free drinks. But, it's the first time, the very first time... that Sam doesn't even mind.
And this is the problem.
At first, it was ignorable. He's been living with Dean for as long as he can remember, learning from him, supporting him, pushing him into the shower when he's too trashed to do it himself. All those years, all of that co-dependency, well... it's gotta add up to something right? And so, Sam accepted it as that. Sam was the one who'd been confused, misreading Dean's actions as the wrong types of emotions. But eventually, it got worse.
And now, it's downright unmistakable.
Sam's aware of this fact, all too aware, to be honest. He doesn't even try to ignore it, because it's the only thing on his mind. Dean's eyes, Dean's arms, Dean's mouth, look at Dean. Sam is fucked, royally screwed, because....
Sam Winchester can't ignore it anymore.
But, he'll fight it, he knows. And Dean will, too. Because this is their job; saving people, hunting things. And whatever this is, this thing that's radiating between them, well, it's just gonna have to wait. Because, Sam's afraid, and Dean's afraid, that if it doesn't... it might tear them apart.
And maybe one day, maybe later, when the people are saved, and the things are all hunted, then maybe it will be their time.
Supernatural - Chuck/Gabriel - Rated R
Chuck's never sure why Gabriel stays. When they Winchesters don't, he means. Sometimes, when they visit, they bring Gabriel and Castiel with them. Well, no. They usually bring Cas.
They sometimes bring Gabe.
Chuck likes him, he likes them all, really. But, something about Gabriel kind of makes him uneasy, with the way he... does that thing he's doing now.
Gabriel is sitting beside him on the couch, and Chuck can't really complain. He's licking his fingers, sucking the sugar off of his skin. Chuck's not even entirely sure what exactly he's eating. But... he still can't really complain. Because this is what Gabriel does when the boys leave. He gets sticky and sappy and sweet.
And Chuck? Well, he kinda likes it.
He won't admit this, of course, because dude, what? But he's accepted it as fact by now, and hey, who can really blame him? Gabriel has a pretty mouth. And Chuck's pretty sure that he wants to taste it. He's watching Gabriel suck at his fingers, licking chocolate and icing and whipped cream and --
"Hmmm--" Gabriel's pleasured moan is cut off easily as Chuck presses against him, clashing their lips together finally. Gabriel doesn't push him away, and that's a small mercy for Chuck, who feels like his skin is about to burst into flames. Chuck knew how much he wanted to taste Gabriel's mouth, always knew that he was itching to kiss him. But it wasn't until this moment, that he realized how much he's wanted to touch him.
Chuck's hands fumble over Gabriel's clothes, tugging at his shirt, pulling at his pants, until Gabriel is laying flat beneath him. Chuck bites at the angel's lips, licks at his tounge, and is only vaguely aware of the fact that his own lips are getting sticky, covered in sugar, and maybe... that's not such a bad thing? Because Gabriel is kissing back, tounge licking over Chuck's lips, sucking and biting at his skin.
Chuck thinks that maybe, from now on, the boys should always bring Gabriel.
-End-
Supernatural - Anna/Jo - Rated PG
Jo was annoyed, hating that hair, that smile, that voice, and it wasn't jealousy. At least, not quite. Jo didn't care that Anna was obviously, well... doing something with Dean. They were subtle about it, and it was almost imperceptible. It was something that no one else had picked up on, she was sure. But Jo noticed because Jo was paying attention. And it took her a moment too long to realize that her attention wasn't focused on Dean.
The door closed behind her with a loud and heavy bang, as she shut herself in the back of the Roadhouse. The Winchesters had shown up the night before, brand new, shiny little angel in tow. And Jo had sat down with her, talked to her, learned her. And it took less than an hour for there to be something , something between them that Jo couldn't put a name to, wasn't even sure if she'd felt before.
She was shaken from her thoughts as she heard another bang, identical to the one she'd made with door. She looked up to find that it had come from the same source, as Anna leaned up against the wood.
"I've come looking for you." Anna said the words quizzically, softly, almost as if it were a question.
"Well, you've found me." Jo shrugged as she leaned against a table, bracing herself on her hands before hopping up to sit on top of it.
"Why... why are you in here?" Anna's eyes flickered around the room as she moved across the floor, taking long, slow strides.
"It's quiet, I guess." Jo shook her head, not really sure. She rarely left when they had company, company she liked, anyway. And she did like Sam and Dean, she liked them very much. But perhaps... "And I guess I knew you'd follow me." She confirmed the words she was thinking.
"Of course," Anna smiled as she reached the table, keeping a foot of space between herself and Jo.
Jo smirked suspiciously, playfully, as she studied Anna's face. There was something there, something almost mischievous, and Jo was sure she liked it. "What's up?" She questioned with a mocking sort of edge.
"What?" Anna smiled in a way that was chipper, campy almost, and Jo laughed.
"You look shady right now." Jo said in her most serious, warning tone, knowing that the spark in her eyes was ruining the effect.
Anna just looked to the window at her side, face twisted into something playfully pensive, and something in Jo snapped. She knew why she hated Anna now. She hated what she did to her.
"Come here." Jo said the words quickly, loudly, a command more than a request.
"What?"
"Come." Jo raised her eyebrows, "Here."
Anna closed the space easily, and Jo didn't waste any time. She let one hand fall to Anna's waist, spreading teasingly along her hip, as the other rose to rest along the side of her neck, pulling her in closer.
"Jo?" Anna's voice was high and unsure, barely making it's way out before Jo pressed their mouths together. Anna tasted like oxygen and watermelon, and something acidic, something like... absinthe. Jo deepened the kiss greedily, desperate to get drunk off the taste while she had it there, offered to her, because she knew that as soon as that door opened, as soon as this kiss broke, the moment would be gone, over forever, and Anna would be Dean's, and Jo would be stuck here.
Anna pulled away just slightly, a tiny movement, before pressing against Jo harder than she had been to begin with. She let her hands rest on Jo's legs, spread around Anna, tight jeans over heated skin. Anna made a noise, a small, needy sound in the back of her throat, and Jo jumped as she heard a bang on the door.
"Mmm... A minute!" She broke away only long to mumble out the words, but whoever it was wasn't listening. The door creaked open, sticking for a moment, and Anna didn't have the sense to move away. Jo pushed at her hips, letting her hands stray just thisfar from innocent territory, as Dean poked into the room.
"Ellen's lookin' for you." He nodded his head toward Jo, eyes on Anna, who's eyes were... on Jo.
"Yeah, okay." Jo snapped the words out more harshly than she'd intended as Dean shut the door, but it didn't matter. The moment really was gone.
"Jo?" Anna questioned again, sounding more demanding of an answer this time.
"I'm sorry, Anna." Jo closed her eyes tight, realizing she'd just taken advantage of a goddamn angel.
"No, Jo..." Anna stuttered her words, shaking her head defiantly. "Please don't be sorry."
Anna smiled as she spoke.
"I liked it."
-End-
Supernatural - Sam/Gabriel - Rated G
"And your total will be twenty-seven dollars and thirty-nine cents." The cashier said the words with a smile that was far too bright. Nobody who worked at a gas station should ever be that happy. Dean bit back the urge to yell out "demon!" as he pushed the cash across the scuffed up counter.
"Oh hey, wait up." Sam slid up to the counter, almost knocking Dean over as he halted to a stop, bending to study the shelves of candy lined up along the front of the desk.
"Whoa there, Sammy." Dean raised an eyebrow as he watched Sam pile bags of skittles into his arms. "Pretty sure there's no pot of gold at the end of that rainbow..."
"It's not for me, Dean." Sam huffed out the words like it should have been obvious.
Dean opened his mouth to argue or ask, he wasn't sure which. But the words refused to come out, because he knew what this was about.
"You're buying..." Dean leaned over the counter to look at the total that the cashier rang up, "seventeen dollars worth of skittles... for Gabriel. Aren't you." The question really wasn't much of a question at all. It wasn't the first time this had happened. In fact, it wasn't even the second. Dean had sort of lost count at eight.
Sam smiled sheepishly as he pulled out his wallet. "Maybe?"
Dean just rolled his eyes as he pushed his way out of the station, bell tinkling over the door.
"Thank you, sir, and have a good day."
Supernatural - Dean/Ash - Rated NC17
Dean slumped into the couch, falling lower and deeper with each shot glass he emptied. He was warm and numb and dizzied, a comfortable sort of chaos. The Roadhouse was warm, humid and damp, it's walls not able to fight off the summer heat. He could hear voices, one voice, somewhere in the distance. But, in reality, that voice was not so distant at all.
Dean kept his eyes closed as he felt a heavy weight on his lap, legs straddling him clumsily. His hands rose to fumble over denim and flannel, and he didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was. Ash laughed softly, unsteadily, as his foot knocked the bottle of whiskey off the table in front of the couch. It fell to the floor with a crack and a crash as their mouths pressed together.
Dean leaned further back, one arm wrapped around his friend's back, the other hand gripping loosely over his hip. Ash bit at Dean's lips, licking into his mouth, and Dean just let him. There was no point in fighting it, he didn't even want to. He'd had thoughts like this, of Ash like this, once, maybe twice, maybe more. They were only ever thoughts, just fleeting, blurred images running a marathon in his mind, always disappearing as quickly as they'd formed. But now, this was real, Ash in his lap, hands in his hair, mouth on his lips. And oh yeah, it was good.
Ash pulled at Dean's belt, fingers strong and sure as they worked over the leather. Dean was hit by a moment of panic, hard and fast and sickening, before all his doubts were eaten away, trumped by the feeling of Ash's hand, warm and soft, gripping him tight as Dean hardened under his fingers.
Dean swallowed down a knot of insecurity, wondering why this felt so strange. It shouldn't be, not so much, not really. Ash was a good guy, and it definitely wasn't the guy part that had Dean on edge. He bit down on his bottom lip as Ash tightened his grip, stroking harder and faster as each moment went by. Dean realized then that it wasn't insecurity that was making his mind spin. It was something else, something... unexpected. It was the lack of discomfort that had him uncomfortable. It felt good and right and somehow familiar, Ash on his lap, jerking him off, kising at his neck, his mouth, his jaw. It felt so fucking good.
"Ash -- " Dean opened his eyes finally as his warning was cut off by a moan. His voice came out broken and rough as Ash quickened his pace, getting him off without breaking a damn sweat. Dean felt his hands twitch against Ash's body, pulling him closer, holding him tight as he came hot and hard into his fist. It was like a kick, like a punch, burning and searing and quick. He bit into Ash's shoulder, trying to keep quiet, despite knowing that he really didn't have to.
"Damn," Ash sighed out the word, staying pressed tightly against Dean's body.
"Mmm?" Dean questioned wordlessly, still breathless and sated and boneless and blissful.
"I should get you drunk more often." Ash laughed softly, voice tainted by the sound of a smile that Dean didn't see, as he kept his face pressed against his shoulder.
Dean just grinned against a rough denim vest, feeling sleep possess him. He would never tell Ash the words he was thinking.
-End-
Supernatural - Dean/Adam - Rated PG
Adam huffed in amusement as Dean slid into the seat next to his, spreading his leather jacket across their legs. It was dark in the theatre as the previews rolled on the screen, loud and staticked in their ears.
"You know... I'm not a chick. You don't need to--"
"I don't need to treat you right?" Dean cut off Adam's words, turning toward him as he finally got comfortable. "Just let me do this."
Adam grinned in the darkness, secretly and silently thrilled that anyone would want to treat him right. He'd had this thing going with Dean for a while, not long, a week at most. It'd started the moment they met, an instant attraction that was like a punch to the gut. It felt wrong at first, felt weird to look at a guy and get all fluttery like he did around his girlfriends, or girls he wished were his girlfriends, or, well... really just girls in general. But it'd really started to become something a week ago, when they'd shared a bed and, well, nothing had happened. Not unless you call a lot of awkward blushing and flirting something. Adam would deny it to this day, but Dean just did things to him that made him act like a fucking chick, and Adam? He didn't mind so much. Not anymore.
He watched Dean smirk into the darkness, eyes glued to the screen as he slowly wrapped one arm around Adam's shoulders, pulling him closer just slightly. Adam bit his bottom lip softly, trying desperately not to grin stupidly like that first night, that first time Dean had accidentally brushed their hands together (even though Adam had an unconfirmed suspicion that that wasn't actually an accident). He sunk into Dean's warmth, jacket heating his lap, as he too kept his eyes on the screen.
Dean laughed at something, something Adam had missed, too immersed in his own thoughts to catch what had happened. He turned to face Dean, giving him a questioning look, and was immediately warmed by the fact that he didn't have to put his thoughts into words for Dean to know what he was asking.
"That girl," Dean pointed casually at the screen, "she claims that her dude," he swung his hand across the picture "has the sexiest body in the goddamn world." Dean chuckled softly in amusement, and Adam still wasn't getting it.
"Why is that funny?" He questioned softly, using the pretense of a whisper to shift closer to Dean. Dean looked at Adam incredulously, shaking his head slowly, in that way that Adam's teachers would sometimes do when he just didn't get it.
"She's insane." Dean shrugged. "And quite possibly mentally damaged," he added easily, before wrapping his arm tighter around Adam's shoulders, shifting the position from comfortable sprawl to possessive claim. "The sexiest body is not on that screen," Dean's voice was low as he ran his eyes over Adam's chest, down his stomach, and Adam blushed. He blushed fucking hard.
Oh yeah. Adam got it now.
He turned away quickly, looking down at his lap, covered in brown leather. Dean's leather. Dean had shifted again, pulling him closer once more, and Adam was pressed up tightly against his side. He had a fleeting moment of panic, wondering randomly if anyone could see the resemblance between him and Dean because... well, that would be weird. Because other people wouldn't get it, would never understand their situation.
"I mean," Dean cleared his throat suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them, "not that I, you know, check out a lot of dudes or anything, I don't--"
"I know, Dean." Adam grinned widely, having heard this speech at least eighty-one times. It'd first came only a few days ago, as they sat on some wooden milk crates behind an old supermarket in the middle of the night. Dean had his fingers tangled in a leather bracelet that Adam wore, pinned between the strap and Adam's skin, moving slowly, strokingly softly at Adam's wrist as he talked. Dean had spoken erratically, and Adam could tell it was because of him. And, really, why wouldn't it be?
"I... it's not... it's just you, Adam. I've never really... been attracted to men before. I mean, at all. I'm definitely not gay, and I'm pretty damn sure I'm not even bi. But.... I guess it's just that... when I think about it, it makes sense, you know. All the girls I've dated? They've had good qualities, you know, but they always had flaws too. And I always worked, worked real damn hard to accept those flaws, and all their stupid habits and issues, just because the good stuff about them was worth it. So, you... I mean, you're really kind of amazing, Adam. You don't really... I don't have to change myself for you. And I don't have to change you for me. So if I was willing to work through all that shit with girls, just for a few months, even weeks, of something good, then... well... a lifetime of something good with you is worth learning to like dick for."
Adam bit back a laugh in the darkness, feeling it build up in his chest, threatening to tumble out at any minute as he remembered Dean's words. Dean spread his palm wide over Adam's arm, gripping him tightly, pulling him close, and Adam just let him. He sank easily against his side, fully leaning on him now, and he closed his eyes as he felt Dean's hand move from his arm to his hair, carding through it softly.
Adam's laughter faded away, but his smile stayed, warm and comfortable, as he laid against Dean in the darkness, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. He had no issues, no worries, no insecurities, because Dean had been right; being together was easy.
And Adam had a feeling he was going to have a lot of easy in his future.
-End-
Supernatural - Ed/Corbett - Rated PG
Ed was laying in his hotel bed, arms crossed over his chest, face twisted into a scowl. He was hurtin', man! In his heart. Or his stomach. Or something. The room was empty, save for the smell of French Vanilla, and the memory of Corbett, Corbett's ghost, more specifically. He was their fallen facer, a comrade who was missed terribly. He'd trailed them to Comic Con, and Harry made his jokes. "Oh, he came here for you, Ed!" and "You're the love of his life, Ed!" And Ed was thinking about that now, all angry and shit as he tried to fall asleep.
"I brought you a French Vanilla, Ed!" Corbett smiled brightly and, well, brightly. He grabbed for Ed's hand, wrapping it around the warm cardboard cup.
"Razor," Ed grinned easily, slapping Corbett on the back as he took a drink of perfect warmth.
"I also brought you this box of chocolates," Corbett slid the box across the table beside them, Ed's name scrawled neatly on the top.
"I'm allergic to nuts, Cor --"
"I know! I mean, I thought maybe. So, I mean... nut free!" Corbett's smile went into megawatt mode. "Also, uh, this ring."
"What?" Ed's face twisted into confusion as Corbett fumbled through his pockets, coming up with a ring box, all black and satiny.
"I bought you a ring! I mean, nothing serious, you know, just solid silver and all, but --"
"Ed?"
Ed was woken up by his name being called, called by Harry, fucking Harry, all smiley and not going through some weird gay crisis.
"What's wrong, Ed?" Harry's voice was tentative as his eyes went wide, hands held out in front of him.
"Oh god, Harry!" Ed flung himself off the bed, crossing the room in quick strides, tripping over a desk leg along the journey, falling into Harry's arms.
"Whoa! Chillax! I mean... that means chill!" Harry explained. "And also relax!"
"No!" Ed cried into Harry's shoulder, sobbing the same way he did when Xena got cancelled. "Harry! I shoulda been gay for that poor dead intern!" Ed yelled the words, fisting his hand in Harry's shirt. "I shoulda been gay for him." He whispered softly, quietly, and Harry floundered for words.
Ed cried until he fell asleep. Harry sat on the floor, wide-eyed and shell shocked. And someplace, somewhere, Alan J. Corbett was watching.
And he was a very happy man.
-End-
Supernatural - Ruby/Ellen - Rated NC17
Ellen was roused from her sleep, woken slowly and peacefully, a fact that was more disturbing than comfortable. She'd been sleeping with one eye open since she was young, always alert, always ready, because Ellen was a hunter. A hunter first, and --
"A lover second," Ruby replied to Ellen's unspoken words, a habit that always had Ellen on edge.
"A mother second." Ellen corrected as Ruby's figure came into focus, crawling over her in the early morning darkness. Her body was warm, soft, sinful, clothes tight and dark, all leathers and denims. Ellen closed her eyes, still held by sleep as Ruby bent to trace her tounge over Ellen's neck, a teasing, wet stroke over heated flesh.
"Not what you told me last time," Ruby mocked playfully, pulling the blanket down Ellen's body as her hands wandered over her nightshirt. Ellen had a moment of doubt, a moment where she wanted to push the girl away. She needed to sleep, needed to be alert in the morning, needed to not be getting her pussy rubbed by some disgustingly talented demon. But, it was too late for that, and Ellen had lost her battle.
"Were you about to tell me to stop?" Ruby leaned over Ellen's body, straddling her thighs as she lilted the words into her ear, hand working over the white cotton between Ellen's legs. Ellen bit back a moan, determined not to give Ruby the satisfaction of knowing that she'd already earned herself that priviledged sound. "No one ever has the power to tell me to stop, Ellen." Ruby's eyes were dark and solid. Ellen's heart hammered for a moment as she realized that lust wasn't the reason behind that. But then, Ruby's hand played over the band of Ellen's panties, pulling and snapping softly, before pushing in against her flesh.
"You won't even try, now, will you?" Ruby shook her head fondly, in a way a parent would patronize a child. Ellen opened her mouth to snap back, sure she had something witty to say. But, it was all washed away as Ruby's fingers found her clit, brushing against the already wet flesh, which Ellen would deny was for her.
"Oh, come on, Mrs.Harvelle." Ruby grinned, a wolf in waiting. "Tell me to stop." Her voice lowered as her eyes flickered, and Ellen arched up into her touch as her fingers played over her hole, soft, wet noises breaking the silence in the room. Ellen wanted to speak, to yell, to say something, but all that she could manage was a moan, a single word; "More."
Ruby laughed darkly as she crawled further up the bed, pulling Ellen's panties off with a quick and practiced ease. Ellen took a deep breath as Ruby spread her legs, pushing them far apart, spreading her wide open. "The lady wants more," Ruby lilted in a mocking tone, playful and terrifying all at once as she pressed two fingers into Ellen's hole, tight and wet and aching.
Ellen swallowed hard, still denying Ruby the knowledge of knowing how good it really was. She felt Ruby add another finger, pushing them in deep as her thumb rubbed over her clit. Ellen bent one arm up over her head, gripping the side of her pillow as Ruby fucked into her.
"What's wrong, Ellen? Gonna tell me to leave now?" Ruby was far too amused, and it would have been fucking annoying, would have earned her a shot to the face, if Ellen was in the right state of mind. But she wasn't thinking clearly, not now. Because now, she was coming hard, body flaming as her pussy throbbed around Ruby's fingers, tightening up as she cried out words that she'd later forget she'd ever even known. It was hot and cold and soft and sharp, a confliction by all means. Ellen slumped against the mattress, boneless and sated, breathless as Ruby slowly slipped her fingers away, leaving small, teasing touches over glistening flesh along the way.
"Stop," Ellen finally gasped out, too sex wrecked to care that the request was now useless. Ruby giggled, a sound that was almost innocent and childish, as she pressed a kiss to Ellen's lips. Her voice was low and utterly demon as she whispered one last word before leaving; "Never."
-End-
Supernatural RPS - Richard/Jared - Rated G
"How did you find me so quickly?" Jared smiled as Richard sided next to him, a welcome face in the sea of strangers around them.
"Are you kidding?" Richard quirked an eyebrow as he leaned into Jared, trying to be heard over the bustle of people. "You're like a foot taller than everyone in this room!"
Jared laughed as he shook his head, not buying into Richard's logic. "I'm sitting down!" Jared gestured to the couch that he was getting quite comfortable on.
Richard shrugged sheepishly as he dropped down to the couch, handing a drink to Jared. "Maybe it's like a sixth sense."
"Maybe you were looking for me?" Jared's reply came quickly, and he bit back a smile as Richard's face flushed just slightly.
"Maybe I'm glad I found you?" Richard said the words to the floor, focusing on the way his foot was pressed against Jared's.
"Maybe... I'm glad you found me too." Jared smiled softly as he shifted on the couch, letting his arm brush against Richard's.
And if Jensen stopped dead in his tracks on his way through the room an hour later, eyes catching Richard, all wrapped up in Jared's lap, fingers entwined and lips whispering softly, well... he didn't say anything about it.
Supernatural RPS - Jared/Misha - Rated G
Jared was warm and numb, body comfortably sunken into the soft depths of his bed. He was slipping away from coherent thought, letting the tender darkness of his mind slowly kaladiscope into an array of soft colors and shapes. His mama's face, faded and blurred and comforting behind his eyelids. Harley laying against Sadie as she chewed on Jensen's shoe, something he would no doubt laugh at by the time he got home. In the back of his mind, he heard it softly, a strumming guitar, the chords of some country song that Christian said he'd written when he was twelve. He was sure that would be the last thing he though of, the last thing to caress him before he fell into a dark pool, resting easily after a hard day's night. But then he felt it; a soft, slow touch that stretched out past the expanse of skin that had actually been stroked, sinking into his bones as he heard the words.
"Goodnight, Jay." Misha's voice was low and soft, a sad sort of harmony that synced to the guitar. His body was soft over Jared's, warm and radiating, burying Jared under a familiar sort of comfort.
"Goodnight, Angel," Jared whispered against the smooth skin of Misha's palm as he pressed one kiss to the lines of his hand. And maybe Chris's guitar was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep. But it was different now, an old memory entwined with a new one. An instrumental that finally had a title.
Twilight
(The twilight drabbles are all extremely short, as they were for a meme where fills were required to be less than 200 words)
Twilight - Rosalie/Victoria - Rated G
Rosalie was strong. She was solid and knowing and wise and so... so weak. Victoria. Oh... Victoria. Her eyes, so deep, so dark, so daring. Her body, so soft, so hard, all at once. Her hair, strands of passion, red fire spread over the pillow. And this... this was why Rosalie had become weak. She'd found a weakness, a burning need to be, to have, to touch, to taste. And Victoria was spiteful; always leaving. Always going! But Rosalie wouldn't fight. She wouldn't complain or beg or protest. Victoria could leave, go as she pleased. As long as she came back. Rose would be waiting.
Twilight - Jacob/Jasper - Rated PG-13
The woods. Always the woods. It was a quiet place, secluded and dark. Always dark... almost. Jacob hated the sunrise, the way the light would puncture through the branches, dancing low along the floor of the forest, warming the leaves, the grass, the moss that they'd laid on. Jasper kept quiet, never once complained. He never protested or moaned, never showed any anger at the sun. The sunrise. And sometimes, Jacob wondered why. He'd wonder why Jasper would leave so easily, never look back, never linger for that extra second. The sunrise was like a chime, an alarm, some sort of reminder that this couldn't last. It wasn't the fairy tale that they'd been living all night, together in the darkness, on the ground, in the mud, through the leaves. Soft kisses, hard fucks, warm smiles, all broken by the sunrise. And Jasper never once looked back.
It'd bothered Jacob at first. Wasn't he worth that second glance? But eventually... eventually he realized that the sun would fade, and Jasper would come back. A Few hours of daylight was no match for what they had.
Twilight - Jasper/Emmett/Edward - Rated R
"You're never home anymore, Edward," Jasper's eyes were dark and pleading, distracting Edward from the feeling of Emmett's hands running down his chest, fumbling over his belt. Jasper was doing something to him, something... something that had nothing to do with power or ability. Just need, want, lust.
"You really..." Emmett's voice was low and rough as he snapped at Edward's belt, "need to start spending more time with us." He whispered the words against Edward's ear, and Edward's eyes slipped shut as Jasper's hands slid into his pants with ease, a practiced motion, despite the fact that... they'd never done this before. They couldn't, this was wrong! It was immoral for reasons too abundant to count. There was --
"Oh," Edward's breath caught in his throat as Emmett kissed at his neck. Rosalie.
"You like that?" Emmett growled against Edward's skin as Jasper kissed along his hip. Alice.
"W-wait..." Edward tried, train of thought fading fast as Jasper's mouth closed around him, swallowing him down, hot and deep. Bella.
Edward struggled for a moment, a fleeting second of conflict before finally answering; "Yes." Vegas.
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