SPN ficlet: Panic (Sam/Ruby)
Title: Panic
Pairing: Sam/Ruby
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Aw, hell. I don't know. The long-dormant SPN muse apparently wanted to come out and play. Spoilers for 3.04. 300 words.
Note: I can't promise this isn't dark. It depends on your point of view. I don't know how to read this myself, and I kind of like it that way.
Panic
The first time he fucks her, it feels like a panic attack. Or maybe that feeling is why he's doing it in the first place. Nothing feels right, only feels too much. He doesn't know what this power is, only that it means something earth-shattering and it flows up out of him.
He doesn't make sense anymore, but then there's her eyes telling him he does. They sparkle, and he thinks he sees the black even though her body's eyes are green.
She's sprawled out under him, legs open, so wet he can practically taste her already. She doesn't ask him to look in her eyes, but he does anyway.
The first thrust of his dick inside her isn't what he thought it would be. He expected a hot, easy slide; he gets, instead, a pulling and throbbing all along his length that makes him push harder, deeper, until she gasps.
It sounds like a laugh, like relief.
He never entirely pulls out again, just rocks himself deeper and deeper. He has no idea what he's trying to get to. She rides it out, clutching and moaning, the sound a satisfied chuckle. But when her voice bottoms out, turns flat and low, like she can't get enough air, he knows she has no idea what's inside of her, either.
He thinks this might be why he's fucking her, that she's teetering on the brink of something, too, and it must be important. He knows he might be wrong.
But, still, there is a second time, and it opens her up like the bloom of an obscenely pink flower, a loss of control that leaves her breathless and shivering. She likes that a lot.
So, he thinks, does he.
~
Pairing: Sam/Ruby
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Aw, hell. I don't know. The long-dormant SPN muse apparently wanted to come out and play. Spoilers for 3.04. 300 words.
Note: I can't promise this isn't dark. It depends on your point of view. I don't know how to read this myself, and I kind of like it that way.
Panic
The first time he fucks her, it feels like a panic attack. Or maybe that feeling is why he's doing it in the first place. Nothing feels right, only feels too much. He doesn't know what this power is, only that it means something earth-shattering and it flows up out of him.
He doesn't make sense anymore, but then there's her eyes telling him he does. They sparkle, and he thinks he sees the black even though her body's eyes are green.
She's sprawled out under him, legs open, so wet he can practically taste her already. She doesn't ask him to look in her eyes, but he does anyway.
The first thrust of his dick inside her isn't what he thought it would be. He expected a hot, easy slide; he gets, instead, a pulling and throbbing all along his length that makes him push harder, deeper, until she gasps.
It sounds like a laugh, like relief.
He never entirely pulls out again, just rocks himself deeper and deeper. He has no idea what he's trying to get to. She rides it out, clutching and moaning, the sound a satisfied chuckle. But when her voice bottoms out, turns flat and low, like she can't get enough air, he knows she has no idea what's inside of her, either.
He thinks this might be why he's fucking her, that she's teetering on the brink of something, too, and it must be important. He knows he might be wrong.
But, still, there is a second time, and it opens her up like the bloom of an obscenely pink flower, a loss of control that leaves her breathless and shivering. She likes that a lot.
So, he thinks, does he.
~