Best in Hell (R)
Title: Best in Hell
Author: mercurybard
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Pairings: Dean/Ruby
Notes: Just a 15-minute fic.
"What's bugging you, lover?" Ruby whispers as she worms her way under the covers, up from the foot of the bed. She's naked, but he expects nothing less at this point. These late night visits, after Sam's deep asleep--ever since she confessed to him that she didn't have all those answers she'd dangled in front of Sam.
"Just thinking," Dean whispers back as she molds herself to him, soft breasts and bony hips, slender thighs and tangles of blond hair.
He can feel it when she smiles against his side. "About your adventures in dreamwalking?" He still doesn't know why he told her what happened there, in that place inside his skull, when he couldn't even tell Bobby or Sam. Maybe it's because she doesn't feel quite real, here in the dark when it's just the two of them and Sam, breathing deep and even in the other bed. "About how the demon-you could control the dream and you couldn't? Just snapped his fingers, and poof! You were awake."
"Yeah, why was that?" It's the same question he's been asking himself for days. He doesn't expect an answer, not from her. She who talks in riddles, after all. Demons lie; demons mislead; demons slide their smooth thighs over his and mouth softly at his ribs.
"Because that you is the you who holds all the power right now," she hisses, scratching blunt nails across the soft skin of his belly.
Dean shudders.
"Remember, your demon self is the same man who martyred himself for his little brother," she says to his collarbone. "So stoic, so resigned," to his neck. "They're going to love you in Hell," to his earlobe. "Hunters make the best demons...just look at your daddy."
Author: mercurybard
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Pairings: Dean/Ruby
Notes: Just a 15-minute fic.
"What's bugging you, lover?" Ruby whispers as she worms her way under the covers, up from the foot of the bed. She's naked, but he expects nothing less at this point. These late night visits, after Sam's deep asleep--ever since she confessed to him that she didn't have all those answers she'd dangled in front of Sam.
"Just thinking," Dean whispers back as she molds herself to him, soft breasts and bony hips, slender thighs and tangles of blond hair.
He can feel it when she smiles against his side. "About your adventures in dreamwalking?" He still doesn't know why he told her what happened there, in that place inside his skull, when he couldn't even tell Bobby or Sam. Maybe it's because she doesn't feel quite real, here in the dark when it's just the two of them and Sam, breathing deep and even in the other bed. "About how the demon-you could control the dream and you couldn't? Just snapped his fingers, and poof! You were awake."
"Yeah, why was that?" It's the same question he's been asking himself for days. He doesn't expect an answer, not from her. She who talks in riddles, after all. Demons lie; demons mislead; demons slide their smooth thighs over his and mouth softly at his ribs.
"Because that you is the you who holds all the power right now," she hisses, scratching blunt nails across the soft skin of his belly.
Dean shudders.
"Remember, your demon self is the same man who martyred himself for his little brother," she says to his collarbone. "So stoic, so resigned," to his neck. "They're going to love you in Hell," to his earlobe. "Hunters make the best demons...just look at your daddy."