Requests Answered - Round 5
Title: Untitled V
Fandom: X-Men (Movie), Supernatual, Heroes.
Author: deep_salt_water
Pairing/Character: Rogue/Pyro, Sam & Dean, Rogue/Dean, Rogue & Mohinder Suresh
Word Count: 324, 517, 291, 274
Disclaimer: The X-Men aren’t mine; they belong to Marvel and 20th Century Fox. Supernatural belongs to Kripke and the CW. Heroes belongs to Kring (reunite Peter and Nathan, dammit!) and NBC.
Rating: PG-13 - language, relatively light sexual stuff...
Summary: Drabble requests fulfilled.
Placement: The Ryro is pre-X2, and the Heroes one is somewhere near S2 of Heroes, and in a world where Prof X is still alive and well. If you want that to be post-X3, so be it. The Supernatural ones are anywhere you want, though probably post Season 1.
Spoilers/Warnings: Kind of an S2 spoiler for the Heroes related one. And a kind of one for the end of S1 of Supernatural.
A/N: Will be added to as each request gets fulfilled, hence the lack of summaries. The requests answered are for ever_obsessed.
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Rogue, Pyro, and his complete inability to let her eat a popsicle without cracking a dirty joke about it.
St. John Allerdyce smirked as he watched his best friend’s girlfriend perform fellatio on a Popsicle. Okay, so she was just eating, but seriously-anything that girl did had him thinking about fellatio.
With him, of course.
He was definitely not entertaining thoughts of Drake’s ice prick. Even if it probably was the size and temperature of her Popsicle.
He flicked the lid of his lighter, banishing thoughts as he ignited it and drew flame into the palm of his hand. The act did what he intended and attracted her attention away from Drake and onto him.
She arched an eyebrow, tucking her white streaks behind her ears with one hand as she still worked that damn Popsicle with the other. Her pink tongue licked at her lips, and he involuntarily shuddered at the image it gave him.
“What do you want, Johnny?”
His smirk increased, and he extinguished the flame in his hand. “I was about to ask you the same question, Roguey. Thought maybe you’d be sick of sucking on something small and cold. Thought maybe you’d want something hot, hard, and definitely not small.”
Rogue spared a glance to her right to find her boyfriend otherwise occupied, grateful for the fact as her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “Don’t be vulgar, John.”
He snickered, raising his own eyebrow in turn. “Come on, Rogue. Seeing you work that damn thing has me thinking you’d be pretty fucking good at using those skills for a much better cause.” His gaze dropped to where her mouth a perfect ‘O’, and he shifted slightly in his seat. “So how about it?”
She cleared her throat, and went back to eating her Popsicle, this time leaning on the table so he got a view of her cleavage. Her brown eyes sparkled, and he knew he’d made a mistake saying anything. Now she’d just torture him for the rest of the afternoon.
Always look, but don’t touch.
Sam spills a slushie inside Mrs. Dean Winchester - er, the Impala, desperately tries to hide it.
“No, no, no, no, no…”
Sam Winchester’s eyes were wide as he kept repeating the one word over, and over. Like saying it would somehow undo his monumental stuff up. There were times when he was happy to play a prank on his older brother, but he knew better than to do anything to the Impala.
Okay, except crash it through a house.
And be driving when a truck smashed into it.
And okay, there was that one time with that slimey demon but Dean was as much responsible for that as he was.
This? This was all his fault. And not at all work related unless you counted the fact he was on a stakeout and needed a sugar fix.
A frozen water and syrup sugar fix.
Now half his squishy covered his lap and the seat, and the dash. He’d dozed off, and jolted awake at the sound of a police siren close by. Of course he’d had to have been holding the slushie at the time and naturally the lid just had to come off and icey green slush covered everything.
And still he was saying ‘no’ again and again and again. Occasionally he inserted some less than family friendly language as he tried to wipe it all up with tissues he’d found in one of the bags in the back.
He wiped at his jeans too, trying to soak up the frozen mess threatening to permanently damage him. He wondered whether spilling a slushie was more damaging than spilling coffee. Not that he really had anyone he wanted to impregnate right now, but it’d be good to know he still could. If he wanted.
He cleared his throat, opening the door to the Impala and tossing the slushie cup before he got back behind the wheel and started the engine. He’d promised to pick up Dean if nothing had happened by four, and aside from the Slushie Disaster of ’07, nothing had happened.
When he pulled up, Dean jumped into the passenger seat, and gave his brother a satisfied smirk. “That was a lot easier than I thought. Turns out the informant was hot and brunette. Just my type.”
Sam cleared his throat, trying not to look guilty. “Your type is women. Period.”
Dean shrugged, the smirk turning into a grin. “Who am I to discriminate as long as they got all the right good looking parts?” Dean reached out to place his hand on the dash, then made a face as he looked at Sam. “Dude, why is it sticky?”
Sam shifted again, tugging subtly at his crotch. It was still wet, and really uncomfortable. “Ah…”
Dean’s gaze couldn’t help but flick down when he saw his brother shifting, and his face went from disgusted to downright offended. “Dude! Oh, you are just gross.”
Sam shook his head, raising his hands to face the palms outwards. “It’s not what you think!”
Dean shuddered, then visibly flinched when he saw the tissues on the floor of his precious baby. “You are never being left alone with her again. You hear me, Sammy? Never.”
Rogue spills a slushie and uses her wiles to keep him from noticing.
“Baby, why are you sitting in the back?”
Rogue stopped sipping her slushie, and grinned as she batted her lashes. “Thought you’d wanna join me, sugar.” She patted the empty space next to her. “Figured we’d take advantage of the roominess. You know remember what happened last time we did it up front don’t you?”
Dean smirked, not even looking up front as he climbed in beside her. “Course I do, sweetheart. Still got the bruises.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna see?”
She giggled, moving to climb onto his lap and straddle him. “I’ve seen ‘em every night since you got ‘em. You can keep your clothes on for now.” She rocked her hips, leaning forward to lick the side of his face. “I got a skirt on this time.”
He chuckled, hands already sliding up and under her top and feeling her warm skin through the material of her body stocking. “You know your tongue’s green, right?”
She nodded. “I think maybe I should also tell you the front seats and dash are a little green, too. Kinda had a little accident.”
“What?” Dean froze, his fingers digging into her flesh as he frowned.
She shushed him, free hand working between their bodies as she still held onto her slushie. Slender fingers snapped their way into his jeans, stroking him through his boxers. “I’ll cleaned it up. Mostly. Now just forget all about the car, and remember I have on a skirt. And I’m really, really horny right now.”
Dean blinked, clearly torn between his baby having slushie spilt all over her, and his girl ready and willing and in his lap. “Maybe I’ll just make you clean the car again in a really slutty maid outfit while I watch.”
Rogue attends one of Mohinder's "Mutants R Us!" talking thingies (I'm tired, be gentle on my unwordiness at the moment) and things somehow happen - no, not sex things, other things - things along the line of an argument over which telepath is more annoying - Charles or Matt. Charles, of course, except when he's not because, you know, sometimes Matt's a whiny little bitch and somehow they eat curry even though Rogue hates the stuff and keeps spitting it out behind his back into a plant or something.
“He’s always listening. Can’t seem to butt out.”
“He likes callin’ you with his voice in your head. Even if you’re in the toilet.”
“He acts like anything you think is his idea.”
“He can make you believe you’re a little girl with pigtails.”
Mohinder blinked, pausing with the fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m sorry?”
Rogue nodded, taking a sip of water. She wasn’t about to take a bite of curry while Mohinder watched. It would mean actually chewing. “He can pretty much make you believe anythin’. Or take over your body, and have you say what he wants you to say.”
Mohinder shook his head in disbelief, laughing a little. “I’d hate to see Matthew with that kind of power. Bad enough he’s started to pick up when I swear in Hindi.”
Rogue shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the professor. He just… He can be creepy.”
Mohinder looked thoughtful for a moment, and as he seemed lost in thought, Rogue took the opportunity to place some of her curry into a napkin that she tucked into the pot plant behind her.
“Matthew is never creepy, just annoying. And incredibly frustrating. Pointing a gun at me for making a cup of tea is hardly normal.”
Rogue covered her mouth as she laughed. “The professor can also make everyone freeze. Like, not move. Freezin’ is more Bobby’s thing and that’s a conversation for another convention.”
Mohinder smiled, his eyebrow creeping up just a little. “Perhaps next time when you offer to buy me lunch, we can have something you enjoy and I’ll be the one to place the food in the plant.”
Fandom: X-Men (Movie), Supernatual, Heroes.
Author: deep_salt_water
Pairing/Character: Rogue/Pyro, Sam & Dean, Rogue/Dean, Rogue & Mohinder Suresh
Word Count: 324, 517, 291, 274
Disclaimer: The X-Men aren’t mine; they belong to Marvel and 20th Century Fox. Supernatural belongs to Kripke and the CW. Heroes belongs to Kring (reunite Peter and Nathan, dammit!) and NBC.
Rating: PG-13 - language, relatively light sexual stuff...
Summary: Drabble requests fulfilled.
Placement: The Ryro is pre-X2, and the Heroes one is somewhere near S2 of Heroes, and in a world where Prof X is still alive and well. If you want that to be post-X3, so be it. The Supernatural ones are anywhere you want, though probably post Season 1.
Spoilers/Warnings: Kind of an S2 spoiler for the Heroes related one. And a kind of one for the end of S1 of Supernatural.
A/N: Will be added to as each request gets fulfilled, hence the lack of summaries. The requests answered are for ever_obsessed.
________________________________
Rogue, Pyro, and his complete inability to let her eat a popsicle without cracking a dirty joke about it.
St. John Allerdyce smirked as he watched his best friend’s girlfriend perform fellatio on a Popsicle. Okay, so she was just eating, but seriously-anything that girl did had him thinking about fellatio.
With him, of course.
He was definitely not entertaining thoughts of Drake’s ice prick. Even if it probably was the size and temperature of her Popsicle.
He flicked the lid of his lighter, banishing thoughts as he ignited it and drew flame into the palm of his hand. The act did what he intended and attracted her attention away from Drake and onto him.
She arched an eyebrow, tucking her white streaks behind her ears with one hand as she still worked that damn Popsicle with the other. Her pink tongue licked at her lips, and he involuntarily shuddered at the image it gave him.
“What do you want, Johnny?”
His smirk increased, and he extinguished the flame in his hand. “I was about to ask you the same question, Roguey. Thought maybe you’d be sick of sucking on something small and cold. Thought maybe you’d want something hot, hard, and definitely not small.”
Rogue spared a glance to her right to find her boyfriend otherwise occupied, grateful for the fact as her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “Don’t be vulgar, John.”
He snickered, raising his own eyebrow in turn. “Come on, Rogue. Seeing you work that damn thing has me thinking you’d be pretty fucking good at using those skills for a much better cause.” His gaze dropped to where her mouth a perfect ‘O’, and he shifted slightly in his seat. “So how about it?”
She cleared her throat, and went back to eating her Popsicle, this time leaning on the table so he got a view of her cleavage. Her brown eyes sparkled, and he knew he’d made a mistake saying anything. Now she’d just torture him for the rest of the afternoon.
Always look, but don’t touch.
Sam spills a slushie inside Mrs. Dean Winchester - er, the Impala, desperately tries to hide it.
“No, no, no, no, no…”
Sam Winchester’s eyes were wide as he kept repeating the one word over, and over. Like saying it would somehow undo his monumental stuff up. There were times when he was happy to play a prank on his older brother, but he knew better than to do anything to the Impala.
Okay, except crash it through a house.
And be driving when a truck smashed into it.
And okay, there was that one time with that slimey demon but Dean was as much responsible for that as he was.
This? This was all his fault. And not at all work related unless you counted the fact he was on a stakeout and needed a sugar fix.
A frozen water and syrup sugar fix.
Now half his squishy covered his lap and the seat, and the dash. He’d dozed off, and jolted awake at the sound of a police siren close by. Of course he’d had to have been holding the slushie at the time and naturally the lid just had to come off and icey green slush covered everything.
And still he was saying ‘no’ again and again and again. Occasionally he inserted some less than family friendly language as he tried to wipe it all up with tissues he’d found in one of the bags in the back.
He wiped at his jeans too, trying to soak up the frozen mess threatening to permanently damage him. He wondered whether spilling a slushie was more damaging than spilling coffee. Not that he really had anyone he wanted to impregnate right now, but it’d be good to know he still could. If he wanted.
He cleared his throat, opening the door to the Impala and tossing the slushie cup before he got back behind the wheel and started the engine. He’d promised to pick up Dean if nothing had happened by four, and aside from the Slushie Disaster of ’07, nothing had happened.
When he pulled up, Dean jumped into the passenger seat, and gave his brother a satisfied smirk. “That was a lot easier than I thought. Turns out the informant was hot and brunette. Just my type.”
Sam cleared his throat, trying not to look guilty. “Your type is women. Period.”
Dean shrugged, the smirk turning into a grin. “Who am I to discriminate as long as they got all the right good looking parts?” Dean reached out to place his hand on the dash, then made a face as he looked at Sam. “Dude, why is it sticky?”
Sam shifted again, tugging subtly at his crotch. It was still wet, and really uncomfortable. “Ah…”
Dean’s gaze couldn’t help but flick down when he saw his brother shifting, and his face went from disgusted to downright offended. “Dude! Oh, you are just gross.”
Sam shook his head, raising his hands to face the palms outwards. “It’s not what you think!”
Dean shuddered, then visibly flinched when he saw the tissues on the floor of his precious baby. “You are never being left alone with her again. You hear me, Sammy? Never.”
Rogue spills a slushie and uses her wiles to keep him from noticing.
“Baby, why are you sitting in the back?”
Rogue stopped sipping her slushie, and grinned as she batted her lashes. “Thought you’d wanna join me, sugar.” She patted the empty space next to her. “Figured we’d take advantage of the roominess. You know remember what happened last time we did it up front don’t you?”
Dean smirked, not even looking up front as he climbed in beside her. “Course I do, sweetheart. Still got the bruises.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna see?”
She giggled, moving to climb onto his lap and straddle him. “I’ve seen ‘em every night since you got ‘em. You can keep your clothes on for now.” She rocked her hips, leaning forward to lick the side of his face. “I got a skirt on this time.”
He chuckled, hands already sliding up and under her top and feeling her warm skin through the material of her body stocking. “You know your tongue’s green, right?”
She nodded. “I think maybe I should also tell you the front seats and dash are a little green, too. Kinda had a little accident.”
“What?” Dean froze, his fingers digging into her flesh as he frowned.
She shushed him, free hand working between their bodies as she still held onto her slushie. Slender fingers snapped their way into his jeans, stroking him through his boxers. “I’ll cleaned it up. Mostly. Now just forget all about the car, and remember I have on a skirt. And I’m really, really horny right now.”
Dean blinked, clearly torn between his baby having slushie spilt all over her, and his girl ready and willing and in his lap. “Maybe I’ll just make you clean the car again in a really slutty maid outfit while I watch.”
Rogue attends one of Mohinder's "Mutants R Us!" talking thingies (I'm tired, be gentle on my unwordiness at the moment) and things somehow happen - no, not sex things, other things - things along the line of an argument over which telepath is more annoying - Charles or Matt. Charles, of course, except when he's not because, you know, sometimes Matt's a whiny little bitch and somehow they eat curry even though Rogue hates the stuff and keeps spitting it out behind his back into a plant or something.
“He’s always listening. Can’t seem to butt out.”
“He likes callin’ you with his voice in your head. Even if you’re in the toilet.”
“He acts like anything you think is his idea.”
“He can make you believe you’re a little girl with pigtails.”
Mohinder blinked, pausing with the fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m sorry?”
Rogue nodded, taking a sip of water. She wasn’t about to take a bite of curry while Mohinder watched. It would mean actually chewing. “He can pretty much make you believe anythin’. Or take over your body, and have you say what he wants you to say.”
Mohinder shook his head in disbelief, laughing a little. “I’d hate to see Matthew with that kind of power. Bad enough he’s started to pick up when I swear in Hindi.”
Rogue shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the professor. He just… He can be creepy.”
Mohinder looked thoughtful for a moment, and as he seemed lost in thought, Rogue took the opportunity to place some of her curry into a napkin that she tucked into the pot plant behind her.
“Matthew is never creepy, just annoying. And incredibly frustrating. Pointing a gun at me for making a cup of tea is hardly normal.”
Rogue covered her mouth as she laughed. “The professor can also make everyone freeze. Like, not move. Freezin’ is more Bobby’s thing and that’s a conversation for another convention.”
Mohinder smiled, his eyebrow creeping up just a little. “Perhaps next time when you offer to buy me lunch, we can have something you enjoy and I’ll be the one to place the food in the plant.”