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Fic: Fallen, part 2
More of Jess' bday fic
Title: Fallen
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: Adult only, just to be on the safe side.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, this is just for entertainment until the new season starts. Damn you, Kripke.
Warnings: Probable Wincest. Definite blood and gore. Disturbing mental images. Aside from that, we'll take it as we go, shall we?
Sam started to ask who the hell Springheel Jack was, but a good look at Dean’s face stopped him. Dean looked…terrified. There would be time to ask later, when they’d stopped for the night.
While they drove through the balmy night, he closed his eyes, silently wishing for a time when they were whole.
Dawn was creeping over the horizon before Dean pulled off the highway, turning into a small motel. Without a word to Sam, he swung out of the truck, heading into the office.
Sam stared, noting the ramrod straight back, the way he moved, carefully, as though he was still afraid of jarring the broken ribs that the demon had given him. With a short, frustrated noise, he grabbed Dad’s journal and started flipping through it.
“Looking for something, Sammy?” a low purr came, practically next to his ear. He jumped, looking around for the body that had belonged to their father.
“Do you think I need to be there for you to hear me? I don’t you know,” he said smoothly.
“I’m not listening,” Sam growled.
“I don’t,” the demon repeated. “But it helps.”
A hand slid around his neck, solid and real, and Sam tried to pull away, tried to fight it. “Move, and I’ll snap your neck,” the demon said conversationally. “And then, while you’re dying, I’ll kill your precious Dean in front of you. Look at him in there,” the demon purred. “I have to admit, you have good taste, Sammy. I’d suck that cock, too.”
“I don’t-“
“I know,” the thing said in his father’s voice. “You want him to fuck you. All that carefully leashed violence? Be a hell of a ride.” This time the hot breath was at his ear. “Do you want to feel his cock in you, Sam? Feel him fuck you, possess you? Feel his hand jacking you off?”
“I-“ Sam’s voice gave out as its other hand slid around him, strong fingers stroking his cock.
“Oh yeah, you like that idea,” it growled. “You sick bastard.”
He barely heard the car door shut as the demon bolted, just saw Dean turn, eyes widening in horror as he got a look at Sam. Thank God the windshield protected him from seeing what else had been going on.
A moment later, his door was wrenched open, and Dean was touching his throat gently, checking for injuries. “Jesus, Sammy, you okay?”
Sam swallowed hard, concentrating on steadying his breathing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“What did it want?”
Shit. Sometimes, he forgot how smart Dean could be. “He wanted to taunt us.”
“Great.” Dean slammed the door and came around to the driver’s side. “I got us two doubles, but we should probably sleep in shifts.”
“I’ll take first watch,” Sam offered. “I think I got more sleep than you.”
“Sounds good.” Dean quickly pulled the car in front of their room and got out, dragging his bags with him. Sam followed, looking around the room idly as Dean changed clothes.
With the demon’s words fresh in his mind, he focused on the mundane, the bland décor; another motel, another abstract painting monstrosity. Anything to avoid looking at Dean as he stripped. Instead, he picked up the salt container, and went to bar the bathroom window, and the large window at the front.
The demon was right about that much. He really was a sick bastard.
After Dean had slid into bed, he finally turned back, heading to the lumpy chair in the corner by the window, and tying the curtain back a sliver so he could see the outside world. One benefit of the demon possessing people was that it was bound by the laws of their world. No teleportation, no popping out of existence. If it wanted in, it would have to come through the door.
He picked up their father’s journal again and began to look for Springheel Jack references.
“You’ll want to look closer to the front,” Dean said softly.
Great. It was only after the first couple years that Dad had started to grasp organization. “Don’t suppose you remember a date?”
“March 8.”
Sam flipped quickly. “Dean, that one’s about a potential werewolf. Turned out to be a hoax, anyway.”
“Next page.”
Tacked on to the end, there was a hastily scrawled note.
Attack in Lawrence. From eyewitness report, Springheel Jack attacked elderly woman, leaving dessicated corpse of prior victim.
“From eyewitness report? Not much to go on there. Wonder why he didn’t put more about it.”
Dean made a soft, frustrated noise. “Probably because he figured the witnesses weren’t very credible. Can I sleep now?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, college boy. Because I’m exhausted?”
“Why weren’t the witnesses credible,” Sam clarified, exasperation obvious.
“I don’t know, Sammy. Maybe he thought that five and sixteen months was a little less than reliable.”
After a long second, the words sunk in. “Us?”
“Yeah.”
“You saw Springheel Jack?”
“Yeah.” Dean was just chatty as hell tonight, obviously.
“You wanna tell me more than ‘yeah’?” Sam asked.
“If I do, will you let me get some sleep?”
Sam smirked. “Yeah.”
Title: Fallen
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: Adult only, just to be on the safe side.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, this is just for entertainment until the new season starts. Damn you, Kripke.
Warnings: Probable Wincest. Definite blood and gore. Disturbing mental images. Aside from that, we'll take it as we go, shall we?
Sam started to ask who the hell Springheel Jack was, but a good look at Dean’s face stopped him. Dean looked…terrified. There would be time to ask later, when they’d stopped for the night.
While they drove through the balmy night, he closed his eyes, silently wishing for a time when they were whole.
Dawn was creeping over the horizon before Dean pulled off the highway, turning into a small motel. Without a word to Sam, he swung out of the truck, heading into the office.
Sam stared, noting the ramrod straight back, the way he moved, carefully, as though he was still afraid of jarring the broken ribs that the demon had given him. With a short, frustrated noise, he grabbed Dad’s journal and started flipping through it.
“Looking for something, Sammy?” a low purr came, practically next to his ear. He jumped, looking around for the body that had belonged to their father.
“Do you think I need to be there for you to hear me? I don’t you know,” he said smoothly.
“I’m not listening,” Sam growled.
“I don’t,” the demon repeated. “But it helps.”
A hand slid around his neck, solid and real, and Sam tried to pull away, tried to fight it. “Move, and I’ll snap your neck,” the demon said conversationally. “And then, while you’re dying, I’ll kill your precious Dean in front of you. Look at him in there,” the demon purred. “I have to admit, you have good taste, Sammy. I’d suck that cock, too.”
“I don’t-“
“I know,” the thing said in his father’s voice. “You want him to fuck you. All that carefully leashed violence? Be a hell of a ride.” This time the hot breath was at his ear. “Do you want to feel his cock in you, Sam? Feel him fuck you, possess you? Feel his hand jacking you off?”
“I-“ Sam’s voice gave out as its other hand slid around him, strong fingers stroking his cock.
“Oh yeah, you like that idea,” it growled. “You sick bastard.”
He barely heard the car door shut as the demon bolted, just saw Dean turn, eyes widening in horror as he got a look at Sam. Thank God the windshield protected him from seeing what else had been going on.
A moment later, his door was wrenched open, and Dean was touching his throat gently, checking for injuries. “Jesus, Sammy, you okay?”
Sam swallowed hard, concentrating on steadying his breathing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“What did it want?”
Shit. Sometimes, he forgot how smart Dean could be. “He wanted to taunt us.”
“Great.” Dean slammed the door and came around to the driver’s side. “I got us two doubles, but we should probably sleep in shifts.”
“I’ll take first watch,” Sam offered. “I think I got more sleep than you.”
“Sounds good.” Dean quickly pulled the car in front of their room and got out, dragging his bags with him. Sam followed, looking around the room idly as Dean changed clothes.
With the demon’s words fresh in his mind, he focused on the mundane, the bland décor; another motel, another abstract painting monstrosity. Anything to avoid looking at Dean as he stripped. Instead, he picked up the salt container, and went to bar the bathroom window, and the large window at the front.
The demon was right about that much. He really was a sick bastard.
After Dean had slid into bed, he finally turned back, heading to the lumpy chair in the corner by the window, and tying the curtain back a sliver so he could see the outside world. One benefit of the demon possessing people was that it was bound by the laws of their world. No teleportation, no popping out of existence. If it wanted in, it would have to come through the door.
He picked up their father’s journal again and began to look for Springheel Jack references.
“You’ll want to look closer to the front,” Dean said softly.
Great. It was only after the first couple years that Dad had started to grasp organization. “Don’t suppose you remember a date?”
“March 8.”
Sam flipped quickly. “Dean, that one’s about a potential werewolf. Turned out to be a hoax, anyway.”
“Next page.”
Tacked on to the end, there was a hastily scrawled note.
Attack in Lawrence. From eyewitness report, Springheel Jack attacked elderly woman, leaving dessicated corpse of prior victim.
“From eyewitness report? Not much to go on there. Wonder why he didn’t put more about it.”
Dean made a soft, frustrated noise. “Probably because he figured the witnesses weren’t very credible. Can I sleep now?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, college boy. Because I’m exhausted?”
“Why weren’t the witnesses credible,” Sam clarified, exasperation obvious.
“I don’t know, Sammy. Maybe he thought that five and sixteen months was a little less than reliable.”
After a long second, the words sunk in. “Us?”
“Yeah.”
“You saw Springheel Jack?”
“Yeah.” Dean was just chatty as hell tonight, obviously.
“You wanna tell me more than ‘yeah’?” Sam asked.
“If I do, will you let me get some sleep?”
Sam smirked. “Yeah.”
no subject
*does not look up Springheel Jack*
Papa didn't believe Dean's account of the baddie? Meep!
Um. The demon. SUCH a badwrong turnon, oh, yes. No use trying to fight that one. Especially since it's using Papa's body, and oh, my, I'm going to hell. But... DAYUM. Especially as it is pointing out Sammy's deep dark perviness.
no subject
And I'm not sure he didn't believe Dean, more that there wasn't much to tell.
I loved the demon. JDM made me want to lick him in a big, horrible way as the demon. Better yet, I wanted him to lick Dean. And Sam is a perv, but so am I. *grin* I'm glad you enjoyed. More coming up soon, as they have eaten my brain.
no subject