[FIC] SPN: Lungs Full of Cement 1/1
Title: Lungs Full of Cement [Het, 1/1, 1,000 words]
Pairing: Sam/Ruby
Characters: Ruby, Sam Winchester
Rating/ Warnings: R/ Sexual Situations, language
Spoilers:through S4
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and others. No disrespect or infringement intended.
Notes: Pinch hit for iluvroadrunner6 in spn_het_love's '09 Holiday Exchange for the prompt Sam/Ruby, you give what you get.
Summary: Demons were good at lying. Ruby? She was the best liar of them all.
Demons were good at lying. To themselves, to each other, to the human fodder scratching out a miserable existence Above. There was a reason Lucifer was called the Father of Lies after all, and demons were the Devil's own wild and willful children.
Ruby? She was the best liar of them all.
Sam lapped up her words like honey. He just ate them right up.
First her words.
Then her blood.
And it would be no time at all before Sam could no longer distinguish between his truth and hers. The blood would make sure of that, even if her sweet borrowed flesh didn't. But Sam was aching and lost and so deliciously angry these days that he wanted to fuck her almost as much as he wanted to tear out her throat and drink her down.
Blood, power, sex... Ruby would use whatever it took, to wrap Sam up in her truth and her lies and set her Father free.
"Stay the night." It was a command, not a question.
"I don't think so," Ruby muttered, sliding out from beneath the coarse sheets and away from Sam's outstretched hand. While her movements were casual, inside Ruby was thrumming with barely suppressed excitement. Careful now. Can't make it look too easy, she thought. Make him work for it.
She stretched languorously, aware of how Sam's eyes tracked her sensuous movements.
"It's just sex, Sam. Don't go reading anything into it."
She bent to retrieve her panties from what might have once passed for a Navajo rug slung across the rustic floorboards. Ruby stretched the flimsy scraps of silk between her fingers and cursed softly. They were unsalvageable. One of these days she was going to remember not to bother wearing stupid bits of silk and lace when Sam was just going to rip them off her anyway.
Then again... ripping them off was half the fun.
"Might want to finish the job there, Sam. There's salt and lighter fluid around here somewhere." Ruby tossed the scrunched up wad of fabric back towards Sam, who grunted noncommittally and swatted the panties away. Sam's hand flopped back down. He was still riding high on the crest and swell of her blood coursing through his body like the tide surging against a shore.
Ruby glanced at the cheap mission-style double dresser and into the mirror affixed above it, which utterly failed at making the crap excuse for a room look any bigger. Sam was sprawled almost bonelessly on his side, one hand propping up his jaw as he watched her through half-lidded eyes. His pose left nothing to the imagination. Just the way she liked it.
"Listen, Ruby, I-" Sam began.
"Don't kid yourself, Sam," Ruby scoffed. "This isn't about love, or affection. It's just need." She made sure to keep her movements slow and graceful as she stepped into the puddled fabric of her jeans and shimmied them up her bare legs.
"Stay." Sam's voice had fallen. Gentled. "I want you to."
Finally! Ruby was careful to keep her triumphant smirk to herself as she turned to face Sam. Come on little fishie, she thought, tilting her head and crossing her arms over her chest. The pose managed to subtly enhance her bare breasts while still making it look as if she felt threatened. She drifted closer to the bed.
Sam sat up, watching her seriously. "You always leave. You don't have to leave." There was just hint of a slur in his voice.
Almost there.
"I never took you for a cuddler, Sam," Ruby said, injecting just a hint of wistfulness into her tone. She touched the side of Sam's face gently and let her fingers linger there.
In response, Sam growled at her and snaked out a hand to tug her down, rolling to cover her body with his. She didn't protest when Sam gripped her wrists up above her head tight enough to bruise if she had been merely human.
Staring up into Sam's dark eyes, his pupils still blown from the lingering blood-haze, Ruby smiled and suggestively rubbed a denim-clad leg against him. Sam's body gave an answering lurch. Ruby licked at the corner of Sam's mouth and drew his lower lip gently between her teeth before biting down with just the right amount of pressure. He groaned and shuddered against her.
It was only a matter of seconds before Sam stripped her jeans off again, and settled her soft meatsuit tightly against the harder planes and angles of his own burning flesh. What followed was less about the blood and fucking that had previously defined their working relationship, and more about forging a deeper connection between them.
Sam was making love to her.
Fool.
Eventually, he fell asleep, his arms and legs still tangled tightly with hers. Ruby basked in the lingering edges of her afterglow, marveling as always at the responses Sam could draw from her meatsuit. She didn't remember the sex ever being this good-- before Hell-- in her original flesh, which had long since fallen to dust.
Sam snuffled softly against her neck and Ruby smiled into his forehead. A hand stroked lazily through Sam's damp hair.
Soon.
Everything was going according to plan. She had Sam exactly where she wanted him, and he would dance to her drum from now on.
Lilith would play her part, and then Sam would kill her at the appointed time. Lucifer would walk Above. And Sam....
Sam would be hers.
His skin smelled of salt tang and sex, and beneath that ran a note of scorched, molten earth where his demon blood-- her blood-- sang through his veins.
Mine.
For a moment it was hard to breathe, her borrowed lungs seizing up on the thick feelings which rose to claw at her. Ruby didn't strictly need to breath, of course. But a sensation of panic gripped her all the same.
It wasn't love. It could never be love.
Demons lied.
And Ruby? Ruby was awesome at lying. Even to herself.
End Notes: Thank you to all the patient, wonderful people in the deancastiel chatroom who let me bounce ideas off them and ask nonsensical questions while writing this. Special thanks to miss_nevermore who was kind enough to look over the initial draft ♥! The story was originally posted here.
Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome :). Thank you for reading!
Pairing: Sam/Ruby
Characters: Ruby, Sam Winchester
Rating/ Warnings: R/ Sexual Situations, language
Spoilers:through S4
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and others. No disrespect or infringement intended.
Notes: Pinch hit for iluvroadrunner6 in spn_het_love's '09 Holiday Exchange for the prompt Sam/Ruby, you give what you get.
Summary: Demons were good at lying. Ruby? She was the best liar of them all.
Demons were good at lying. To themselves, to each other, to the human fodder scratching out a miserable existence Above. There was a reason Lucifer was called the Father of Lies after all, and demons were the Devil's own wild and willful children.
Ruby? She was the best liar of them all.
Sam lapped up her words like honey. He just ate them right up.
First her words.
Then her blood.
And it would be no time at all before Sam could no longer distinguish between his truth and hers. The blood would make sure of that, even if her sweet borrowed flesh didn't. But Sam was aching and lost and so deliciously angry these days that he wanted to fuck her almost as much as he wanted to tear out her throat and drink her down.
Blood, power, sex... Ruby would use whatever it took, to wrap Sam up in her truth and her lies and set her Father free.
"Stay the night." It was a command, not a question.
"I don't think so," Ruby muttered, sliding out from beneath the coarse sheets and away from Sam's outstretched hand. While her movements were casual, inside Ruby was thrumming with barely suppressed excitement. Careful now. Can't make it look too easy, she thought. Make him work for it.
She stretched languorously, aware of how Sam's eyes tracked her sensuous movements.
"It's just sex, Sam. Don't go reading anything into it."
She bent to retrieve her panties from what might have once passed for a Navajo rug slung across the rustic floorboards. Ruby stretched the flimsy scraps of silk between her fingers and cursed softly. They were unsalvageable. One of these days she was going to remember not to bother wearing stupid bits of silk and lace when Sam was just going to rip them off her anyway.
Then again... ripping them off was half the fun.
"Might want to finish the job there, Sam. There's salt and lighter fluid around here somewhere." Ruby tossed the scrunched up wad of fabric back towards Sam, who grunted noncommittally and swatted the panties away. Sam's hand flopped back down. He was still riding high on the crest and swell of her blood coursing through his body like the tide surging against a shore.
Ruby glanced at the cheap mission-style double dresser and into the mirror affixed above it, which utterly failed at making the crap excuse for a room look any bigger. Sam was sprawled almost bonelessly on his side, one hand propping up his jaw as he watched her through half-lidded eyes. His pose left nothing to the imagination. Just the way she liked it.
"Listen, Ruby, I-" Sam began.
"Don't kid yourself, Sam," Ruby scoffed. "This isn't about love, or affection. It's just need." She made sure to keep her movements slow and graceful as she stepped into the puddled fabric of her jeans and shimmied them up her bare legs.
"Stay." Sam's voice had fallen. Gentled. "I want you to."
Finally! Ruby was careful to keep her triumphant smirk to herself as she turned to face Sam. Come on little fishie, she thought, tilting her head and crossing her arms over her chest. The pose managed to subtly enhance her bare breasts while still making it look as if she felt threatened. She drifted closer to the bed.
Sam sat up, watching her seriously. "You always leave. You don't have to leave." There was just hint of a slur in his voice.
Almost there.
"I never took you for a cuddler, Sam," Ruby said, injecting just a hint of wistfulness into her tone. She touched the side of Sam's face gently and let her fingers linger there.
In response, Sam growled at her and snaked out a hand to tug her down, rolling to cover her body with his. She didn't protest when Sam gripped her wrists up above her head tight enough to bruise if she had been merely human.
Staring up into Sam's dark eyes, his pupils still blown from the lingering blood-haze, Ruby smiled and suggestively rubbed a denim-clad leg against him. Sam's body gave an answering lurch. Ruby licked at the corner of Sam's mouth and drew his lower lip gently between her teeth before biting down with just the right amount of pressure. He groaned and shuddered against her.
It was only a matter of seconds before Sam stripped her jeans off again, and settled her soft meatsuit tightly against the harder planes and angles of his own burning flesh. What followed was less about the blood and fucking that had previously defined their working relationship, and more about forging a deeper connection between them.
Sam was making love to her.
Fool.
Eventually, he fell asleep, his arms and legs still tangled tightly with hers. Ruby basked in the lingering edges of her afterglow, marveling as always at the responses Sam could draw from her meatsuit. She didn't remember the sex ever being this good-- before Hell-- in her original flesh, which had long since fallen to dust.
Sam snuffled softly against her neck and Ruby smiled into his forehead. A hand stroked lazily through Sam's damp hair.
Soon.
Everything was going according to plan. She had Sam exactly where she wanted him, and he would dance to her drum from now on.
Lilith would play her part, and then Sam would kill her at the appointed time. Lucifer would walk Above. And Sam....
Sam would be hers.
His skin smelled of salt tang and sex, and beneath that ran a note of scorched, molten earth where his demon blood-- her blood-- sang through his veins.
Mine.
For a moment it was hard to breathe, her borrowed lungs seizing up on the thick feelings which rose to claw at her. Ruby didn't strictly need to breath, of course. But a sensation of panic gripped her all the same.
It wasn't love. It could never be love.
Demons lied.
And Ruby? Ruby was awesome at lying. Even to herself.
End Notes: Thank you to all the patient, wonderful people in the deancastiel chatroom who let me bounce ideas off them and ask nonsensical questions while writing this. Special thanks to miss_nevermore who was kind enough to look over the initial draft ♥! The story was originally posted here.
Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome :). Thank you for reading!