Five SPN Ficlets
10/3/10 11:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ozmissageDon’t mind me, I just realized I had several SPN ficlets floating around that I wanted to post here before they got swallowed up by the internet. ;)
Title:Normal Little Boys
Characters: John, Sam, Dean
Rating: PG
Words: 343
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Every once in a thousand miles, he gets to just be a dad and they get to just be kids.
A/N: Originally posted as comment fic.
Sometimes (a lot of the time) he feels guilty for keeping them on the move so much. There are so many things he wants for them, so many experiences he’s robbing them of.
But once you know what’s in the dark, once you’ve seen what it can take…you can’t ignore that. So he puts guns in their tiny hands and teaches them how to kill the monsters that live under their beds and he pushes guilt to the back of his mind. His baby boys may not go to birthday parties or spend the night at friends’ houses, but they’ve got a dad and they’ve got each other and they know more about the world than most kids will learn in a lifetime. It’s a high price to pay maybe, their innocence, but as long as they’re still breathing at the end of the day he’s willing to call it forfeit.
But sometimes, every once in a thousand miles, he gets to just be a dad and they get to just be kids and he’s got to admit he loves those moments most of all.
They stop at a diner off Highway 41 for supper and John watches as his boys eat their brownies. Sam eats his with abandon, ice cream smeared from ear to ear. Dean is more cautious, clearly enjoying every bite but careful not to show it---trying to be a little man, just like I taught him, John thinks.
John takes bite of his own brownie and playfully flicks his spoon sending a bit of ice cream flying towards Dean.
“Hey!” Dean protests, but there’s a grin spreading across his face.
“Eat that brownie like you mean it, son,” John says seriously.
Dean nods, looking serious himself (too serious).
“Yes, sir.”
John smiles, feeling satisfied as Dean crams a giant spoonful of brownie and ice cream into his mouth and lets a bit of vanilla dribble down his chin. It’s a little thing, but it sure as hell makes him happy.
Title: Five Things That Never Happened to Sam
Character: Sam, ensemble
Rating: R
Words: 441
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
missy_useless ages ago. Includes a Lost crossover.
1. Dean comes calling, another family crisis, another monster to fight. Sam says no. And then Jess dies. He went out that night, just to grab some beers with his buddies. He wasn’t gone that long. But it’s long enough. She dies just like his mom and somehow Sam knows it must be his fault.
By the time the news makes it to Dean, Sam is long gone, disappeared into nothing as far as he can tell.
2. He graduates at the top of his class and gets a job at a tiny law firm in the middle of nowhere.
Sometimes he hears rumblings about strange deaths and normal family men losing their minds, but he ignores it all. He has a life and Jess and it’s everything he ever wanted.
Dean sends him a postcard once a year, each one simply says I’m good.
Sam keeps them in a shoebox under his bed next to a rifle he never loads. The only reminders of who he used to be.
3. He dies. And it’s kind of permanent. But then something brings him back. He thinks it must have been Dean and the thought breaks his heart, but there’s this palm print seared into his skin and when he shows up on Bobby’s doorstep he pulls a gun on him.
Later, he meets Castiel and he begins to understand.
4. The woman comes into the bar and orders a glass of rum. Drinks it in one gulp, barely winces at the burn. She’s beautiful with long, blonde hair and the saddest eyes Sam has ever seen. She’s older than him, but he doesn’t care.
“Want to tell me your troubles?”
It’s a stupid line, but he’s only been a bartender for three days. She smiles faintly.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me,” he shoots back.
She doesn’t. But she does push him against the bar later after everyone else has left and his hands ghost over a mark on her back. Raised and strange, like a brand.
“Who are you?” he mutters against her neck.
“No one,” she whispers. “No one at all.”
5. Sam is five years old and his mother takes him to the park and pushes him on a swing.
He asks her to make him go higher and she does until he feels like he’s flying. Then his heart is beating too fast and he’s getting scared, but he can’t stop.
His mother slows the swing down and laughs, presses a kiss to his cheek.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you Sammy.”
Title: There’s Nothing Like a Man in a Trenchcoat
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Words: 272
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He just wants to see the guy take it off, is that so wrong?
A/N: Written forbold_seer during the first round of the five acts meme.
“You’re staring, Dean. Again.”
Castiel’s voice sounds even rougher than usual tonight.
Sometimes when he talks, Dean imagines an old back road full of potholes and gravel. He always liked those roads the best, even if they were hell on his girl.
“Just your imagination, Cas.”
It would be nice if it was, Dean’s getting tired of this new hobby his brain’s picked up. It’s not his fault though, it’s the fucking coat. He just wants to see the guy take it off, is that so wrong?
He keeps imagining grabbing the front, the material slick and smooth against his palm, and then seeing Cas’s face---curious, maybe surprised---he’d definitely have an expression and that’s always an exciting change of pace. Stoic, bastard.
Then he’d tug Cas towards him and slip his hands under that damn coat. It’s nice inside, silky. Dean may or may not know this from experience. Then he’d push it off, down Cas’s arms, let it fall to the floor and then he’d catch the guy’s bottom lip between his teeth and tug---
No wait, this is about the coat.
Not about undoing that stupid tie and ripping that stuffed shirt off of Cas or grinning when he hears the buttons hit the floor. It’s not about undoing an angel’s pants and wrapping his hands around Cas’s cock and squeezing until he groans, mutters his name, all low and throaty, Dean…
“Dean?”
Dean blinks, shifts in his seat. His damn pants feel two sizes too small suddenly. Castiel is staring at him, one eyebrow arched ever so slightly.
“Are you alright?”
Dean forces a grin.
“I’m awesome.”
Stupid, fucking angel and his stupid, fucking coat.
Sam smiles and wraps his arms around her neck, feeling safe and content.
Title: There’s a Time and a Place
Pairing: Dean/Cassie
Rating: M
Words: 348
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Dean is not afraid of a little PDA. Cassie finds out the hard way.
A/N: Written for the five acts meme.
She can feel Dean’s hand sliding up her sundress, his fingers pushing aside her cotton panties and then his calloused thumb on her clit. Son of a bitch.
Cassie gasps without thinking and her roommate, Carole, glares at her suspiciously from across the table. Beside her Dean’s grinning like he just ate a whole cage of canneries. She’s going to make him pay for this later.
“Are you alright?” Carole asks.
“Yeah, it was just---I remembered something. Something I forgot to do.”
Dean’s thumb is moving in a perfect circular motion and it’s driving her fucking crazy. Cassie waits until Carole’s distracted before punching him in his leg.
“Stop,” she hisses.
Dean shrugs innocently.
“Make me.”
He presses harder and Cassie can feel sweat beading on her brow. She really should have known better than to invite Dean to meet her friends. Live and learn.
His hand dips lower suddenly and Cassie shifts in her seat.
“We have to go, Carole,” Cassie says more sharply than she meant to.
Carole looks crestfallen, but there’s not much Cassie can do about it. She makes a mental note to make it up to her friend later. Maybe she’ll take her shopping or agree to do the vacuuming, Carole hates vacuuming---Fuck.
Beneath the table Dean quickens the motion of his thumb. Cassie grips the edge of the table.
“Oh…already? We could get another round.”
“Dean has to get up early in the morning and I’ve got an article to file. We’ll do this another time, okay?” she says through gritted teeth. Carole nods.
“It was nice to meet you, Dean.”
Dean winks at her.
“Right back atcha.”
Dean finally pulls his hand away and Cassie nearly groans in frustration. They get up from the table like a normal couple and head for the door, but at the last second Cassie pushes him roughly towards the bathroom instead.
“What are we doing?”
Like he doesn’t know.
“You’re going to finish what you started.”
A wicked smile spreads across his face as she tugs him into the nearest stall.
“Yes ma’am.”
Title: kiss it and make it better
Pairing: Dean/Claire
Rating: R
Words: 309
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: “It’s not so bad,” Claire says brightly. “I’ve seen worse.” (Lost crossover)
A/N: Written forciaimpala for the five acts meme.
Claire perches on the side of the tub and leans in to examine the wound. Dean can feel her warm breath tickling his skin and the sensation gives him goose bumps. She pokes at the fresh bruise creeping its way across his rib cage. It’s pretty rough, even for him. Black, blue…hell there’s even some yellow in there. He’s got the world’s ugliest rainbow on his right side.
“It’s not so bad,” Claire says brightly. “I’ve seen worse.”
Dean chuckles and immediately regrets it. Apparently when a demon puts your ass through a wall, it’s best not to let hot blonde chicks trick you into laughing. He braces himself against the sink, breathes through the pain.
“Don’t be a baby,” Claire says, but she’s already easing herself under his arm to help him hobble back to the bed. He wishes he’d sprung for something nicer than the fucking Hotel 8 now.
Despite the springs biting into his back, it’s still a relief not to be vertical anymore. He lets his eyes drift shut for a second. When he opens them again, there’s a girl in his lap.
“I don’t think this was part of Florence Nightingale’s job description,” he says.
Claire rolls her eyes and pulls her shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Dean’s gaze drifts to the scars on her waist, to the bullet wound on her shoulder---stories she won’t tell him no matter how many times he asks. He thinks maybe she has seen worse.
She presses a finger against his lips, shushing him.
“I’m not Florence Nightingale.”
She leans down and drops a kiss on his side, her tongue darts out to run across the warm, sensitive skin. It hurts in the best way possible, his breath catches in his throat and Claire giggles.
“Noted,” he mutters as she reaches for his belt buckle.
Title:Normal Little Boys
Characters: John, Sam, Dean
Rating: PG
Words: 343
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Every once in a thousand miles, he gets to just be a dad and they get to just be kids.
A/N: Originally posted as comment fic.
Sometimes (a lot of the time) he feels guilty for keeping them on the move so much. There are so many things he wants for them, so many experiences he’s robbing them of.
But once you know what’s in the dark, once you’ve seen what it can take…you can’t ignore that. So he puts guns in their tiny hands and teaches them how to kill the monsters that live under their beds and he pushes guilt to the back of his mind. His baby boys may not go to birthday parties or spend the night at friends’ houses, but they’ve got a dad and they’ve got each other and they know more about the world than most kids will learn in a lifetime. It’s a high price to pay maybe, their innocence, but as long as they’re still breathing at the end of the day he’s willing to call it forfeit.
But sometimes, every once in a thousand miles, he gets to just be a dad and they get to just be kids and he’s got to admit he loves those moments most of all.
They stop at a diner off Highway 41 for supper and John watches as his boys eat their brownies. Sam eats his with abandon, ice cream smeared from ear to ear. Dean is more cautious, clearly enjoying every bite but careful not to show it---trying to be a little man, just like I taught him, John thinks.
John takes bite of his own brownie and playfully flicks his spoon sending a bit of ice cream flying towards Dean.
“Hey!” Dean protests, but there’s a grin spreading across his face.
“Eat that brownie like you mean it, son,” John says seriously.
Dean nods, looking serious himself (too serious).
“Yes, sir.”
John smiles, feeling satisfied as Dean crams a giant spoonful of brownie and ice cream into his mouth and lets a bit of vanilla dribble down his chin. It’s a little thing, but it sure as hell makes him happy.
Title: Five Things That Never Happened to Sam
Character: Sam, ensemble
Rating: R
Words: 441
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
A/N: Written for
missy_useless ages ago. Includes a Lost crossover. 1. Dean comes calling, another family crisis, another monster to fight. Sam says no. And then Jess dies. He went out that night, just to grab some beers with his buddies. He wasn’t gone that long. But it’s long enough. She dies just like his mom and somehow Sam knows it must be his fault.
By the time the news makes it to Dean, Sam is long gone, disappeared into nothing as far as he can tell.
2. He graduates at the top of his class and gets a job at a tiny law firm in the middle of nowhere.
Sometimes he hears rumblings about strange deaths and normal family men losing their minds, but he ignores it all. He has a life and Jess and it’s everything he ever wanted.
Dean sends him a postcard once a year, each one simply says I’m good.
Sam keeps them in a shoebox under his bed next to a rifle he never loads. The only reminders of who he used to be.
3. He dies. And it’s kind of permanent. But then something brings him back. He thinks it must have been Dean and the thought breaks his heart, but there’s this palm print seared into his skin and when he shows up on Bobby’s doorstep he pulls a gun on him.
Later, he meets Castiel and he begins to understand.
4. The woman comes into the bar and orders a glass of rum. Drinks it in one gulp, barely winces at the burn. She’s beautiful with long, blonde hair and the saddest eyes Sam has ever seen. She’s older than him, but he doesn’t care.
“Want to tell me your troubles?”
It’s a stupid line, but he’s only been a bartender for three days. She smiles faintly.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me,” he shoots back.
She doesn’t. But she does push him against the bar later after everyone else has left and his hands ghost over a mark on her back. Raised and strange, like a brand.
“Who are you?” he mutters against her neck.
“No one,” she whispers. “No one at all.”
5. Sam is five years old and his mother takes him to the park and pushes him on a swing.
He asks her to make him go higher and she does until he feels like he’s flying. Then his heart is beating too fast and he’s getting scared, but he can’t stop.
His mother slows the swing down and laughs, presses a kiss to his cheek.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you Sammy.”
Title: There’s Nothing Like a Man in a Trenchcoat
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Words: 272
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He just wants to see the guy take it off, is that so wrong?
A/N: Written for
bold_seer during the first round of the five acts meme. “You’re staring, Dean. Again.”
Castiel’s voice sounds even rougher than usual tonight.
Sometimes when he talks, Dean imagines an old back road full of potholes and gravel. He always liked those roads the best, even if they were hell on his girl.
“Just your imagination, Cas.”
It would be nice if it was, Dean’s getting tired of this new hobby his brain’s picked up. It’s not his fault though, it’s the fucking coat. He just wants to see the guy take it off, is that so wrong?
He keeps imagining grabbing the front, the material slick and smooth against his palm, and then seeing Cas’s face---curious, maybe surprised---he’d definitely have an expression and that’s always an exciting change of pace. Stoic, bastard.
Then he’d tug Cas towards him and slip his hands under that damn coat. It’s nice inside, silky. Dean may or may not know this from experience. Then he’d push it off, down Cas’s arms, let it fall to the floor and then he’d catch the guy’s bottom lip between his teeth and tug---
No wait, this is about the coat.
Not about undoing that stupid tie and ripping that stuffed shirt off of Cas or grinning when he hears the buttons hit the floor. It’s not about undoing an angel’s pants and wrapping his hands around Cas’s cock and squeezing until he groans, mutters his name, all low and throaty, Dean…
“Dean?”
Dean blinks, shifts in his seat. His damn pants feel two sizes too small suddenly. Castiel is staring at him, one eyebrow arched ever so slightly.
“Are you alright?”
Dean forces a grin.
“I’m awesome.”
Stupid, fucking angel and his stupid, fucking coat.
Sam smiles and wraps his arms around her neck, feeling safe and content.
Title: There’s a Time and a Place
Pairing: Dean/Cassie
Rating: M
Words: 348
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Dean is not afraid of a little PDA. Cassie finds out the hard way.
A/N: Written for the five acts meme.
She can feel Dean’s hand sliding up her sundress, his fingers pushing aside her cotton panties and then his calloused thumb on her clit. Son of a bitch.
Cassie gasps without thinking and her roommate, Carole, glares at her suspiciously from across the table. Beside her Dean’s grinning like he just ate a whole cage of canneries. She’s going to make him pay for this later.
“Are you alright?” Carole asks.
“Yeah, it was just---I remembered something. Something I forgot to do.”
Dean’s thumb is moving in a perfect circular motion and it’s driving her fucking crazy. Cassie waits until Carole’s distracted before punching him in his leg.
“Stop,” she hisses.
Dean shrugs innocently.
“Make me.”
He presses harder and Cassie can feel sweat beading on her brow. She really should have known better than to invite Dean to meet her friends. Live and learn.
His hand dips lower suddenly and Cassie shifts in her seat.
“We have to go, Carole,” Cassie says more sharply than she meant to.
Carole looks crestfallen, but there’s not much Cassie can do about it. She makes a mental note to make it up to her friend later. Maybe she’ll take her shopping or agree to do the vacuuming, Carole hates vacuuming---Fuck.
Beneath the table Dean quickens the motion of his thumb. Cassie grips the edge of the table.
“Oh…already? We could get another round.”
“Dean has to get up early in the morning and I’ve got an article to file. We’ll do this another time, okay?” she says through gritted teeth. Carole nods.
“It was nice to meet you, Dean.”
Dean winks at her.
“Right back atcha.”
Dean finally pulls his hand away and Cassie nearly groans in frustration. They get up from the table like a normal couple and head for the door, but at the last second Cassie pushes him roughly towards the bathroom instead.
“What are we doing?”
Like he doesn’t know.
“You’re going to finish what you started.”
A wicked smile spreads across his face as she tugs him into the nearest stall.
“Yes ma’am.”
Title: kiss it and make it better
Pairing: Dean/Claire
Rating: R
Words: 309
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: “It’s not so bad,” Claire says brightly. “I’ve seen worse.” (Lost crossover)
A/N: Written for
ciaimpala for the five acts meme. Claire perches on the side of the tub and leans in to examine the wound. Dean can feel her warm breath tickling his skin and the sensation gives him goose bumps. She pokes at the fresh bruise creeping its way across his rib cage. It’s pretty rough, even for him. Black, blue…hell there’s even some yellow in there. He’s got the world’s ugliest rainbow on his right side.
“It’s not so bad,” Claire says brightly. “I’ve seen worse.”
Dean chuckles and immediately regrets it. Apparently when a demon puts your ass through a wall, it’s best not to let hot blonde chicks trick you into laughing. He braces himself against the sink, breathes through the pain.
“Don’t be a baby,” Claire says, but she’s already easing herself under his arm to help him hobble back to the bed. He wishes he’d sprung for something nicer than the fucking Hotel 8 now.
Despite the springs biting into his back, it’s still a relief not to be vertical anymore. He lets his eyes drift shut for a second. When he opens them again, there’s a girl in his lap.
“I don’t think this was part of Florence Nightingale’s job description,” he says.
Claire rolls her eyes and pulls her shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Dean’s gaze drifts to the scars on her waist, to the bullet wound on her shoulder---stories she won’t tell him no matter how many times he asks. He thinks maybe she has seen worse.
She presses a finger against his lips, shushing him.
“I’m not Florence Nightingale.”
She leans down and drops a kiss on his side, her tongue darts out to run across the warm, sensitive skin. It hurts in the best way possible, his breath catches in his throat and Claire giggles.
“Noted,” he mutters as she reaches for his belt buckle.
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Date: 10/3/10 03:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 10/3/10 03:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 10/4/10 03:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 10/4/10 03:02 pm (UTC)Oh man, don't expect too much. I feel like my SPN fic is horrible compared to other folks.
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Date: 10/4/10 04:29 am (UTC)And oh man, the two Lost crossovers were A++.
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Date: 10/4/10 03:04 pm (UTC)OMG, you guys are awesome! I'll definitely be joining. :D