fics: Supernatural and SGA, 5 things prompts
More commentfics from prompts.
Title: An Easy Faith
Fandom: Supernatural
Prompt: Dean Winchester's Top 5 Sexual Positions and Which Person He Sleeps with is Best Suited for Each One! (from brilligspoons)
Pairings: Dean/OFCs, Dean/Cassie, Dean/Anna, Dean/Castiel (UST), Dean/Reid (from Criminal Minds)
Rating: R
1. TWINS. There were a bunch of positions involved, but that's not the important part. Dean's point (which he keeps trying to make, even when Sam throws Twizzlers in his face and tells him to shut up), is TWINS.
And, okay, part of why Dean doesn't talk so much about the exact positions from that time with the twins is because they weren't all that interesting. You know, aside from being TWINS.
2. Not like with Cassie. Dean had been with plenty of girls before Cassie, and he's been with plenty since, but he had something with her that was new, that was real. Something that demanded honesty and trust. But before he trusted her with the truth about hunting, he trusted her enough to let her cuff him to her bed -- real handcuffs, not the light bondage with scarves he'd tried before, where he always knew he could easily escape.
If pressed, he would've had to admit that he didn't want her to let him go. That with Sammy gone, and Dad sending him off on his own, he'd wanted nothing more than to stay.
3. Even without the cuffs, though, Dean likes girl-on-top. He likes the way they look when they ride him, the easy press of their bodies, the way some of them will scratch their nails down his chest (not too hard, though -- there this was one time, and yeah, that hurt, and not in the fun way).
He's had sex in the back seat of the Impala before, kissed girls slow and tender, leaning across in the front seat, and taken them into the back for cramped, meaningless sex. Anna, though, Anna takes him, takes him by the hand and leads him and this isn't just sex, and it isn't quite love, but afterward he doesn't dream of Hell for a long time.
4. Anna touches him and it feels like forgiveness. Castiel touches him and damnation sparks in his soul.
His arm aches, sometimes, not in the muscle, the flesh, but deeper. I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition, Castiel told him, and Dean wants to crawl on his belly, kneel and beg and promise and vow.
It hasn't happened yet, but Dean thinks it would be better than any sex he's ever had -- more intense, more real, because Castiel touching him would be the memory of death and the promise of redemption, the respite he hadn't dreamed possible and the salvation he never believed in. He still can't pray to a God he can't see, a God who's abandoned them all to the demon's playground, but Castiel is here, always, and Dean has just enough faith to call for him and know that he will come.
5. And, okay, there was this one time Dean had to go undercover in drag, and he won't talk about the drag part (or how much he liked wearing women's underwear), but damn if that FBI agent he sucked off wasn't really fucking pretty, gasping and pushing into Dean's mouth like he'd never been blown before. And it turned out? He HADN'T been. So yeah, that was pretty sweet. He didn't even mind that his knees were sore afterward. Wasn't the first time, and it hopefully won't be the last.
Title: you can sing this song (when I'm gone)
Fandom: Supernatural
Prompt: 5 things Sam NEVER wants to see again. (from momebie)
Pairings: past Sam/Jess
Rating: PG
1. Her hair is gold and splayed out across the ceiling, one arm up, over her head, fingers curling gently. Her eyes are open wide. There is a gash across her belly, splitting the white fabric of her nightgown. She burns, and he wakes up unable to shake the image from his mind.
When the nightmares stop, he is grateful, even if it means he no longer sees her face every night. He hates himself, a little, for that.
2. He isn't strong enough to stop Lilith, can't stop the Hellhounds from tearing Dean's soul from his body and leaving shredded flesh behind. He has never been strong enough.
Then Dean is back with him, alive and whole, and he will do anything, anything, to never have to see his brother like that again.
3. They've grown up in such small spaces that Sam isn't phased by much -- he's walked in on Dean jerking off, and vice versa, more times than either of them like to think about. But when he stumbles into the bathroom for a piss one morning and hears Dean's choked-off gasp of "Cas" as he comes, he's seen (and heard) too much.
4. And apparently the feeling is mutual, because Sam's woken up more than a few nights to find Castiel standing in a corner of the room, staring fixedly at a sleeping Dean. Sam covers his head with a pillow and pretends that he doesn't know exactly what the look on Castiel's face signifies. He used to pray to the angels. He doesn't want to think about one screwing his brother.
5. So this one time, Bobby sent them on a hunt that ended with Sam throwing out an entire outfit (and his favorite pair of boots) because there was just no way that much green slime was ever coming off. Stuff was incredibly sticky, too, and it smelled bad, and Dean just made things worse, laughing about it and teasing Sam and generally being an ass. Although he did let Sam have the first shower.
Still. Sam will take demons any day, over that crap.
Title: why don't you tell me everything you know?
Fandom: Supernatural
Prompt: Five classes Sam took at Stanford that made him think of Dean. (from radiobroadcast)
Pairings: hint of Sam/Jess
Rating: PG
1. Latin. First year Latin, to be precise. He could have tested out, but Sam had wanted an easy class -- for one thing, his scholarships depend on him maintaining a damn good GPA, and he's sure as hell not crawling back to Dad because he can't afford to do this on his own. He could have done advanced Latin anyway, but this way he can use the time he would have spent studying to get a part-time job. He doesn't hustle pool after the first month. He's left that life behind him.
Still, the simple Latin phrases are part of his past, part of hours spent at the kitchen table, or in front of Bobby's bookshelves, with Dad grilling them on the correct incantations and rituals to defeat, to banish, to contain. It was one of the few aspects of their life that Sam hadn't hated, something he had excelled at. And Dean had been thrilled, working with Sam while Dad was away so they could show him how good they were, how clever, how prepared.
Not that it was enough for Dad. But Dean had been proud of him, and Sam smiles grimly, jotting down the easy, powerless words, Quis est puella pulchra? and Ubi habitas?
Anyway, it completes his language requirement.
2. He takes an engineering class, also to fill a distribution requirement, and ends up transferring out after the second day. Every time the professor describes the workings of the internal combustion engine, he can hear his brother's voice, See, Sammy, here's where the oil goes, as Dean boosts him up to peer into the Impala's gleaming hood.
He takes computer science instead. Dean's like Dad -- if he can't look it up in the library's card catalogue, he can't find it.
3. Ethical Reasoning is like a crash course in the Winchester brand of justification, mostly because the other kids in his seminar are so determined to be open-minded. Sam gets a reputation as stubborn and a bit conservative, but he also gets a date with Jess, who grins cheekily at him as she argues that there's nothing inherently wrong with fraud.
She steals his wallet on their first coffee date, then slides it back across the table before he realizes it's missing. "I didn't take anything," she says, and he doesn't even check to make sure.
She returns his ID before he leaves, darting up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. "You're so gullible," she whispers, and he wants it to be true.
4. Second year Latin isn't any harder than first, but it's more interesting, and the reading material is new. The stories they tell, not so much, and every mythological monster is an echo of the bedtime stories Dean told him, things he thought were fairy tales until he turned eight and Dean confessed, it was all true.
His translations are sloppy but the professor loves them, occasionally reminding him that this is a language class, not a creative writing class.
5. So he takes a creative writing class, and every story he writes is about Dean.
Title: It's The Ferris Wheels, Really
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Prompt: 5 moments in which it was blatantly obvious John Sheppard was wearing women's underthings! (from brilligspoons)
Pairings: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Rating: R
1. John thinks that he really should have seen this coming. It's not like it's the first time they've been asked to participate in a native ritual on an alien world. It's just, well, it's the first time it's happened right before laundry day. It's not like he usually wears the silky, dark blue, ruffle-edged girlshorts on away missions. He'd honestly forgotten that's what he had on until Ford snorted, halfway out of his BDUs. "Something you want to tell us, sir?" Ford asks, and John glowers at him from beneath his spiky hair. Teyla doesn't seem to think there's anything worth noticing, if her serene expression is anything to go by, but then, it's the same expression she had when the elders on P3X-849 asked her if she wanted to couple with a goat-yak-zebra-creature in order to bless their spring festival.
Rodney, though. When John peeks over at Rodney (who scowled ferociously through the discussion over whether or not they would be participating in this ritual in the first place, and only agreed when it turned out that naked participation was the only way to get the surprisingly good coffee substitute this planet offers), Rodney is staring in wide-eyed fascination, no sign of teasing or scorn.
John doesn't mind Ford's comment so much, after seeing that.
2. He brings Rodney a thermos of the coffee subsitute a week later, after Rodney has been holed up in his lab for far too many hours. He's done laundry since they got back, but he wears the silky blue girlshorts anyway, his pants slung low on his hips so that when he sets down the thermos and slips his thumbs into his beltloops, the waistband dips just enough for the edge of a ruffle to peek out.
Rodney is so absorbed in the fake coffee and his work that he doesn't even notice, just waves a dismissive hand in John's face and tells him to go take up space somewhere else, before his hair disrupts the forces of gravity in the room and messes up Rodney's experiments.
3. The problem is, John can't be sure if it's him, or just the underwear. He's pretty sure Rodney was looking -- he's not THAT oblivious, thanks -- but there's been no sign of that wide-eyed fascination since, so maybe Rodney just happened to be staring in John's direction while actually visualizing some fascinating new physics solution. Maybe it wasn't the underwear at all.
He has one pair other than the silky blue ones, a pair of white cotton hipsters, low-rise, with little ferris wheels printed on them in bright colors. Men's underwear never comes in ferris wheel patterns, and that was why he bought the women's underwear the first time, anyway -- he wasn't even planning to wear them, ever, he just really likes ferris wheels, and they were cute, and then it was laundry day and he didn't feel like going commando, and, well. He didn't expect to LIKE them.
He wears the ferris wheel undies and drags Rodney out of the lab for a puddlejumper flying lesson, then takes them out to the mainland for a hike. "Come on, Rodney, you need the fresh air," he says, tossing Rodney a granola bar when he grumbles.
They hike for about twenty minutes, and Rodney only stops complaining about the hike to complain about the lab minions and the stupidity of the other scientists and the irritating way one of the marines was underfoot last time he excavated a new Ancient project room (so really, there is very little complaining about the hike), and then John jerks his head at a tree and says he's going to take a leak.
He positions himself carefully, makes sure the little ferris wheels are just visible, peeking out behind the edge of the tree. And Rodney is silent for a full three minutes (a new record, John thinks, except for when Rodney is unconscious or asleep) on the hike back to the puddlejumper.
4. Of course, that still doesn't mean Rodney is interested in John, sans women's underwear.
Except he totally is, and John has just gone back to his quarters to shower (after a quick detour where he got side-tracked by Weir, who wanted to talk about shift schedules for the military helping in the labs, and then a brutal workout with Teyla that he hadn't even intended, but she'd looked vaguely disapproving when she saw him in the mess), when Rodney barrels through his door and gets halfway through a rant about some Marines getting in the way of scientific progress before realizing that John is wearing nothing but the ferris wheel undies.
5. Rodney abruptly turns beet red and flees, and John sighs. He really wants that shower, though, so he waits to go after Rodney until he's clean and respectably dressed, this time with plaid boxer shorts underneath, very manly and not at all made for women.
He finds Rodney in the lab, of course, which is thankfully empty.
"Rodney?" he says, and Rodney turns, all frantic hand gestures and half-finished sentences, yelping something about how John can't do that, can't just walk around looking like he does and smiling that ridiculous smile with his stupid, gravity-defying hair.
"So it's not just the underwear?" John asks, just to be sure, and Rodney gapes at him for a moment.
"No, you moron, you are absurdly hot whether or not you are wearing women's underwear -- and what was that, tiny rainbows? Are you trying to get kicked out of the military?"
John grins, and Rodney makes a choked-off sound before shoving John against the nearest wall and kissing him senseless.
6. "They were hot, though," Rodney makes a completely meaningless gesture, and John grabs the flailing hand and raises it to his lips. "The underwear," Rodney adds, a moment later. "That ruffle."
"Yeah?" John says. He slides Rodney's hand and his own into his pants, to brush against the silky material underneath, and Rodney's eyes go wide. They've been fucking for a week, and John can't get enough of that look.
"Oh, you--" Rodney breathes, and then he is moving, pulling John's pants down and lowering his mouth to cover the tented women's undies, hot and wet and silent.
Title: An Easy Faith
Fandom: Supernatural
Prompt: Dean Winchester's Top 5 Sexual Positions and Which Person He Sleeps with is Best Suited for Each One! (from brilligspoons)
Pairings: Dean/OFCs, Dean/Cassie, Dean/Anna, Dean/Castiel (UST), Dean/Reid (from Criminal Minds)
Rating: R
1. TWINS. There were a bunch of positions involved, but that's not the important part. Dean's point (which he keeps trying to make, even when Sam throws Twizzlers in his face and tells him to shut up), is TWINS.
And, okay, part of why Dean doesn't talk so much about the exact positions from that time with the twins is because they weren't all that interesting. You know, aside from being TWINS.
2. Not like with Cassie. Dean had been with plenty of girls before Cassie, and he's been with plenty since, but he had something with her that was new, that was real. Something that demanded honesty and trust. But before he trusted her with the truth about hunting, he trusted her enough to let her cuff him to her bed -- real handcuffs, not the light bondage with scarves he'd tried before, where he always knew he could easily escape.
If pressed, he would've had to admit that he didn't want her to let him go. That with Sammy gone, and Dad sending him off on his own, he'd wanted nothing more than to stay.
3. Even without the cuffs, though, Dean likes girl-on-top. He likes the way they look when they ride him, the easy press of their bodies, the way some of them will scratch their nails down his chest (not too hard, though -- there this was one time, and yeah, that hurt, and not in the fun way).
He's had sex in the back seat of the Impala before, kissed girls slow and tender, leaning across in the front seat, and taken them into the back for cramped, meaningless sex. Anna, though, Anna takes him, takes him by the hand and leads him and this isn't just sex, and it isn't quite love, but afterward he doesn't dream of Hell for a long time.
4. Anna touches him and it feels like forgiveness. Castiel touches him and damnation sparks in his soul.
His arm aches, sometimes, not in the muscle, the flesh, but deeper. I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition, Castiel told him, and Dean wants to crawl on his belly, kneel and beg and promise and vow.
It hasn't happened yet, but Dean thinks it would be better than any sex he's ever had -- more intense, more real, because Castiel touching him would be the memory of death and the promise of redemption, the respite he hadn't dreamed possible and the salvation he never believed in. He still can't pray to a God he can't see, a God who's abandoned them all to the demon's playground, but Castiel is here, always, and Dean has just enough faith to call for him and know that he will come.
5. And, okay, there was this one time Dean had to go undercover in drag, and he won't talk about the drag part (or how much he liked wearing women's underwear), but damn if that FBI agent he sucked off wasn't really fucking pretty, gasping and pushing into Dean's mouth like he'd never been blown before. And it turned out? He HADN'T been. So yeah, that was pretty sweet. He didn't even mind that his knees were sore afterward. Wasn't the first time, and it hopefully won't be the last.
Title: you can sing this song (when I'm gone)
Fandom: Supernatural
Prompt: 5 things Sam NEVER wants to see again. (from momebie)
Pairings: past Sam/Jess
Rating: PG
1. Her hair is gold and splayed out across the ceiling, one arm up, over her head, fingers curling gently. Her eyes are open wide. There is a gash across her belly, splitting the white fabric of her nightgown. She burns, and he wakes up unable to shake the image from his mind.
When the nightmares stop, he is grateful, even if it means he no longer sees her face every night. He hates himself, a little, for that.
2. He isn't strong enough to stop Lilith, can't stop the Hellhounds from tearing Dean's soul from his body and leaving shredded flesh behind. He has never been strong enough.
Then Dean is back with him, alive and whole, and he will do anything, anything, to never have to see his brother like that again.
3. They've grown up in such small spaces that Sam isn't phased by much -- he's walked in on Dean jerking off, and vice versa, more times than either of them like to think about. But when he stumbles into the bathroom for a piss one morning and hears Dean's choked-off gasp of "Cas" as he comes, he's seen (and heard) too much.
4. And apparently the feeling is mutual, because Sam's woken up more than a few nights to find Castiel standing in a corner of the room, staring fixedly at a sleeping Dean. Sam covers his head with a pillow and pretends that he doesn't know exactly what the look on Castiel's face signifies. He used to pray to the angels. He doesn't want to think about one screwing his brother.
5. So this one time, Bobby sent them on a hunt that ended with Sam throwing out an entire outfit (and his favorite pair of boots) because there was just no way that much green slime was ever coming off. Stuff was incredibly sticky, too, and it smelled bad, and Dean just made things worse, laughing about it and teasing Sam and generally being an ass. Although he did let Sam have the first shower.
Still. Sam will take demons any day, over that crap.
Title: why don't you tell me everything you know?
Fandom: Supernatural
Prompt: Five classes Sam took at Stanford that made him think of Dean. (from radiobroadcast)
Pairings: hint of Sam/Jess
Rating: PG
1. Latin. First year Latin, to be precise. He could have tested out, but Sam had wanted an easy class -- for one thing, his scholarships depend on him maintaining a damn good GPA, and he's sure as hell not crawling back to Dad because he can't afford to do this on his own. He could have done advanced Latin anyway, but this way he can use the time he would have spent studying to get a part-time job. He doesn't hustle pool after the first month. He's left that life behind him.
Still, the simple Latin phrases are part of his past, part of hours spent at the kitchen table, or in front of Bobby's bookshelves, with Dad grilling them on the correct incantations and rituals to defeat, to banish, to contain. It was one of the few aspects of their life that Sam hadn't hated, something he had excelled at. And Dean had been thrilled, working with Sam while Dad was away so they could show him how good they were, how clever, how prepared.
Not that it was enough for Dad. But Dean had been proud of him, and Sam smiles grimly, jotting down the easy, powerless words, Quis est puella pulchra? and Ubi habitas?
Anyway, it completes his language requirement.
2. He takes an engineering class, also to fill a distribution requirement, and ends up transferring out after the second day. Every time the professor describes the workings of the internal combustion engine, he can hear his brother's voice, See, Sammy, here's where the oil goes, as Dean boosts him up to peer into the Impala's gleaming hood.
He takes computer science instead. Dean's like Dad -- if he can't look it up in the library's card catalogue, he can't find it.
3. Ethical Reasoning is like a crash course in the Winchester brand of justification, mostly because the other kids in his seminar are so determined to be open-minded. Sam gets a reputation as stubborn and a bit conservative, but he also gets a date with Jess, who grins cheekily at him as she argues that there's nothing inherently wrong with fraud.
She steals his wallet on their first coffee date, then slides it back across the table before he realizes it's missing. "I didn't take anything," she says, and he doesn't even check to make sure.
She returns his ID before he leaves, darting up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. "You're so gullible," she whispers, and he wants it to be true.
4. Second year Latin isn't any harder than first, but it's more interesting, and the reading material is new. The stories they tell, not so much, and every mythological monster is an echo of the bedtime stories Dean told him, things he thought were fairy tales until he turned eight and Dean confessed, it was all true.
His translations are sloppy but the professor loves them, occasionally reminding him that this is a language class, not a creative writing class.
5. So he takes a creative writing class, and every story he writes is about Dean.
Title: It's The Ferris Wheels, Really
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Prompt: 5 moments in which it was blatantly obvious John Sheppard was wearing women's underthings! (from brilligspoons)
Pairings: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Rating: R
1. John thinks that he really should have seen this coming. It's not like it's the first time they've been asked to participate in a native ritual on an alien world. It's just, well, it's the first time it's happened right before laundry day. It's not like he usually wears the silky, dark blue, ruffle-edged girlshorts on away missions. He'd honestly forgotten that's what he had on until Ford snorted, halfway out of his BDUs. "Something you want to tell us, sir?" Ford asks, and John glowers at him from beneath his spiky hair. Teyla doesn't seem to think there's anything worth noticing, if her serene expression is anything to go by, but then, it's the same expression she had when the elders on P3X-849 asked her if she wanted to couple with a goat-yak-zebra-creature in order to bless their spring festival.
Rodney, though. When John peeks over at Rodney (who scowled ferociously through the discussion over whether or not they would be participating in this ritual in the first place, and only agreed when it turned out that naked participation was the only way to get the surprisingly good coffee substitute this planet offers), Rodney is staring in wide-eyed fascination, no sign of teasing or scorn.
John doesn't mind Ford's comment so much, after seeing that.
2. He brings Rodney a thermos of the coffee subsitute a week later, after Rodney has been holed up in his lab for far too many hours. He's done laundry since they got back, but he wears the silky blue girlshorts anyway, his pants slung low on his hips so that when he sets down the thermos and slips his thumbs into his beltloops, the waistband dips just enough for the edge of a ruffle to peek out.
Rodney is so absorbed in the fake coffee and his work that he doesn't even notice, just waves a dismissive hand in John's face and tells him to go take up space somewhere else, before his hair disrupts the forces of gravity in the room and messes up Rodney's experiments.
3. The problem is, John can't be sure if it's him, or just the underwear. He's pretty sure Rodney was looking -- he's not THAT oblivious, thanks -- but there's been no sign of that wide-eyed fascination since, so maybe Rodney just happened to be staring in John's direction while actually visualizing some fascinating new physics solution. Maybe it wasn't the underwear at all.
He has one pair other than the silky blue ones, a pair of white cotton hipsters, low-rise, with little ferris wheels printed on them in bright colors. Men's underwear never comes in ferris wheel patterns, and that was why he bought the women's underwear the first time, anyway -- he wasn't even planning to wear them, ever, he just really likes ferris wheels, and they were cute, and then it was laundry day and he didn't feel like going commando, and, well. He didn't expect to LIKE them.
He wears the ferris wheel undies and drags Rodney out of the lab for a puddlejumper flying lesson, then takes them out to the mainland for a hike. "Come on, Rodney, you need the fresh air," he says, tossing Rodney a granola bar when he grumbles.
They hike for about twenty minutes, and Rodney only stops complaining about the hike to complain about the lab minions and the stupidity of the other scientists and the irritating way one of the marines was underfoot last time he excavated a new Ancient project room (so really, there is very little complaining about the hike), and then John jerks his head at a tree and says he's going to take a leak.
He positions himself carefully, makes sure the little ferris wheels are just visible, peeking out behind the edge of the tree. And Rodney is silent for a full three minutes (a new record, John thinks, except for when Rodney is unconscious or asleep) on the hike back to the puddlejumper.
4. Of course, that still doesn't mean Rodney is interested in John, sans women's underwear.
Except he totally is, and John has just gone back to his quarters to shower (after a quick detour where he got side-tracked by Weir, who wanted to talk about shift schedules for the military helping in the labs, and then a brutal workout with Teyla that he hadn't even intended, but she'd looked vaguely disapproving when she saw him in the mess), when Rodney barrels through his door and gets halfway through a rant about some Marines getting in the way of scientific progress before realizing that John is wearing nothing but the ferris wheel undies.
5. Rodney abruptly turns beet red and flees, and John sighs. He really wants that shower, though, so he waits to go after Rodney until he's clean and respectably dressed, this time with plaid boxer shorts underneath, very manly and not at all made for women.
He finds Rodney in the lab, of course, which is thankfully empty.
"Rodney?" he says, and Rodney turns, all frantic hand gestures and half-finished sentences, yelping something about how John can't do that, can't just walk around looking like he does and smiling that ridiculous smile with his stupid, gravity-defying hair.
"So it's not just the underwear?" John asks, just to be sure, and Rodney gapes at him for a moment.
"No, you moron, you are absurdly hot whether or not you are wearing women's underwear -- and what was that, tiny rainbows? Are you trying to get kicked out of the military?"
John grins, and Rodney makes a choked-off sound before shoving John against the nearest wall and kissing him senseless.
6. "They were hot, though," Rodney makes a completely meaningless gesture, and John grabs the flailing hand and raises it to his lips. "The underwear," Rodney adds, a moment later. "That ruffle."
"Yeah?" John says. He slides Rodney's hand and his own into his pants, to brush against the silky material underneath, and Rodney's eyes go wide. They've been fucking for a week, and John can't get enough of that look.
"Oh, you--" Rodney breathes, and then he is moving, pulling John's pants down and lowering his mouth to cover the tented women's undies, hot and wet and silent.