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apocalypsosTitle: ... And the Horse You Rode In On
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,011 words
Pairing: Sam/girl!Dean
Prompt: #14, Fixation (for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
psych_30)
Spoilers for: "Something Wicked"
Warnings: Incest, bad language
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like playing with them.
Summary: Dean hasn't done anything lately that can't be defined as anything other than a really bad idea, and this is a perfect example.
Author's note: Set in the same universe as This One Time, In a Michelle Pfeiffer Movie ..., because girl!Dean amuses me. (And looks a lot like Maggie Grace from Lost in my head, for the record.)
*****
... And The Horse You Rode In On
*****
Sam is absolutely not jealous of the guy Dean's dancing with.
See, you can tell because this is the perfect place to start a barfight, a couple dozen customers milling around and not a one of them with more teeth than tattoos, and Sam hasn't punched anyone yet. Right now, Sam's staring at the half-empty beer bottle Dean left behind before letting the guy in the Harley Davidson T-shirt lead her to the dance floor, Dean managing to fake a few dance moves to the twangy country music pouring from the jukebox.
The guy's hand slips around Dean's waist, tugs her closer, and Dean's sticky-sweet laughter carries over the music like the sultry beat's been shot full of caramel.
Sam finishes off his beer in one long swig like that's really going to help.
Dean's wearing this fancy black cowboy hat and matching boots she had to have made appear out of thin air by magic, and Sam will keep on believing that because thinking that Dean went out and bought those without giving him fair warning just makes his older brother the meanest son of a bitch on the planet right now.
Seventeen days into this damn curse and his first thought at seeing those damn boots isn't, What a waste of money. It's a single mental image, the scuff marks left behind by those boots on the back of his jeans and what it would take to get them there.
But he's not jealous.
Nope, not at all.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
*****
The rule is that they don't talk about how wrong any of this is, and if possible they try not to even think about it too hard. Dean can reason out anything blasphemous so well that by the time he's done, Sam sometimes wonders why the hell he ever thought fucking his brother when he's in a girl's body was wrong. The way Dean can twirl reality around his fingers to sand away the rough socially reviled edges, the man should go into fucking politics.
Instead he's in a girl's body leading the guy in the Harley Davidson T-shirt out behind the bar with a fuck-me-quickly smile, her hips taking that swirly black miniskirt of hers and making the most of the way the hem dances around her thighs.
Behind them in the shadows, Sam refuses to tear his gaze away from those boots as he absently removes the bottle of holy water from his pocket and the gun from his jeans.
Hell of a time to get distracted, he thinks.
For the record, the crunch of Dean's heels on the gravel of the parking lot should definitely not be getting Sam so goddamn hard.
*****
The thing is this obscure shape-shifting creature that they had to research for a week before they could identify it, and when they did it turned out they needed a willing girl to lure it out, because that's what it ate.
And well, hell, if there was any man on the planet who could fake being a willing girl in the right body, it's Dean.
Willing, yes. Patient, not so much.
Sam's creeping along in the shadows like some goddamn criminal and this guy's got his mouth so close to Dean's neck she half-expects her head to get bitten off any minute. And Dean doesn't get what the hell is up with these two, because either the guy starts gnawing on her neck or Sam kills the bastard and both of them look like they're waiting for her to make the first move.
Oh, for crying out loud. She's the victim. Dean knows how this goes. She's supposed to get eaten or saved, and then she fucks the guy who saves her. Dean's seen that move before. Hell, Dean's practically patented that move. When he's not a girl, he could hold seminars for lonely guys with gun permits and no fear on getting lucky. Damsels in Distress, and How To Make Their Pants Disappear.
This put-upon sigh rushes past her lips, and a shake of her head later she's pumping a clip full of bullets into the guy's head with the gun she'd tucked into the back of her skirt. If there's only thing she's learned this couple of weeks, it's how to hide a handgun in tight clothes.
Sam glares at her from the darkness, and she adjusts the angle of her hat and flashes him an innocent grin she had to practice in the mirror. "What?"
Sam's gaze flicks down to her boots, too quick to see if you're not looking for it, and Dean's grin widens.
*****
Dean shoves Sam towards the bed as soon as they get back to the motel and shucks off his jeans before he can even register what the hell she's doing, nimble fingers stripping Sam down like it's more important she gets him naked than the other way around. And Sam can't help but agree, damn it, will probably have something to say if she so much as contemplates taking off those fucking boots.
"Caught you staring," she says, and she gives him a mocking "tsk, tsk" as she wriggles out of her panties.
Somehow she manages to get them off without taking off her boots and without looking awkward doing it. Sam's pretty sure if he tried that shit when he's a girl, he'd fall over with a shriek and look like the world's biggest klutz, but Dean's got every girl trick down like an expert and then some.
The cool black snakeskin of the boots presses against Sam's legs as she straddles him, and he nearly comes just from that.
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,011 words
Pairing: Sam/girl!Dean
Prompt: #14, Fixation (for
psych_30)Spoilers for: "Something Wicked"
Warnings: Incest, bad language
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like playing with them.
Summary: Dean hasn't done anything lately that can't be defined as anything other than a really bad idea, and this is a perfect example.
Author's note: Set in the same universe as This One Time, In a Michelle Pfeiffer Movie ..., because girl!Dean amuses me. (And looks a lot like Maggie Grace from Lost in my head, for the record.)
... And The Horse You Rode In On
*****
Sam is absolutely not jealous of the guy Dean's dancing with.
See, you can tell because this is the perfect place to start a barfight, a couple dozen customers milling around and not a one of them with more teeth than tattoos, and Sam hasn't punched anyone yet. Right now, Sam's staring at the half-empty beer bottle Dean left behind before letting the guy in the Harley Davidson T-shirt lead her to the dance floor, Dean managing to fake a few dance moves to the twangy country music pouring from the jukebox.
The guy's hand slips around Dean's waist, tugs her closer, and Dean's sticky-sweet laughter carries over the music like the sultry beat's been shot full of caramel.
Sam finishes off his beer in one long swig like that's really going to help.
Dean's wearing this fancy black cowboy hat and matching boots she had to have made appear out of thin air by magic, and Sam will keep on believing that because thinking that Dean went out and bought those without giving him fair warning just makes his older brother the meanest son of a bitch on the planet right now.
Seventeen days into this damn curse and his first thought at seeing those damn boots isn't, What a waste of money. It's a single mental image, the scuff marks left behind by those boots on the back of his jeans and what it would take to get them there.
But he's not jealous.
Nope, not at all.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
The rule is that they don't talk about how wrong any of this is, and if possible they try not to even think about it too hard. Dean can reason out anything blasphemous so well that by the time he's done, Sam sometimes wonders why the hell he ever thought fucking his brother when he's in a girl's body was wrong. The way Dean can twirl reality around his fingers to sand away the rough socially reviled edges, the man should go into fucking politics.
Instead he's in a girl's body leading the guy in the Harley Davidson T-shirt out behind the bar with a fuck-me-quickly smile, her hips taking that swirly black miniskirt of hers and making the most of the way the hem dances around her thighs.
Behind them in the shadows, Sam refuses to tear his gaze away from those boots as he absently removes the bottle of holy water from his pocket and the gun from his jeans.
Hell of a time to get distracted, he thinks.
For the record, the crunch of Dean's heels on the gravel of the parking lot should definitely not be getting Sam so goddamn hard.
The thing is this obscure shape-shifting creature that they had to research for a week before they could identify it, and when they did it turned out they needed a willing girl to lure it out, because that's what it ate.
And well, hell, if there was any man on the planet who could fake being a willing girl in the right body, it's Dean.
Willing, yes. Patient, not so much.
Sam's creeping along in the shadows like some goddamn criminal and this guy's got his mouth so close to Dean's neck she half-expects her head to get bitten off any minute. And Dean doesn't get what the hell is up with these two, because either the guy starts gnawing on her neck or Sam kills the bastard and both of them look like they're waiting for her to make the first move.
Oh, for crying out loud. She's the victim. Dean knows how this goes. She's supposed to get eaten or saved, and then she fucks the guy who saves her. Dean's seen that move before. Hell, Dean's practically patented that move. When he's not a girl, he could hold seminars for lonely guys with gun permits and no fear on getting lucky. Damsels in Distress, and How To Make Their Pants Disappear.
This put-upon sigh rushes past her lips, and a shake of her head later she's pumping a clip full of bullets into the guy's head with the gun she'd tucked into the back of her skirt. If there's only thing she's learned this couple of weeks, it's how to hide a handgun in tight clothes.
Sam glares at her from the darkness, and she adjusts the angle of her hat and flashes him an innocent grin she had to practice in the mirror. "What?"
Sam's gaze flicks down to her boots, too quick to see if you're not looking for it, and Dean's grin widens.
Dean shoves Sam towards the bed as soon as they get back to the motel and shucks off his jeans before he can even register what the hell she's doing, nimble fingers stripping Sam down like it's more important she gets him naked than the other way around. And Sam can't help but agree, damn it, will probably have something to say if she so much as contemplates taking off those fucking boots.
"Caught you staring," she says, and she gives him a mocking "tsk, tsk" as she wriggles out of her panties.
Somehow she manages to get them off without taking off her boots and without looking awkward doing it. Sam's pretty sure if he tried that shit when he's a girl, he'd fall over with a shriek and look like the world's biggest klutz, but Dean's got every girl trick down like an expert and then some.
The cool black snakeskin of the boots presses against Sam's legs as she straddles him, and he nearly comes just from that.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 06:51 pm (UTC)thank you :D
no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 07:05 pm (UTC)But the best part?
This put-upon sigh rushes past her lips, and a shake of her head later she's pumping a clip full of bullets into the guy's head with the gun she'd tucked into the back of her skirt.
That...is incredibly hot all by itself. *fans face*
Man, I really, really hope you REALLY like staying in this curse-iverse, because I would gladly keep on reading these stories until, you know, Judgement Day. GUH!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 07:17 pm (UTC)...
You're pretty awesome too.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 09:34 pm (UTC)*dies laughing*
I love girl!Dean. So much. I think she needs to go hunting with Faith.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 09:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 11:12 pm (UTC)Wonderful job!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-11 01:00 am (UTC)Got any visual references for girl!Sam?
no subject
Date: 2006-04-11 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-11 03:01 pm (UTC)GUH
I'll be in my bunk.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-11 05:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-12 07:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-13 06:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-14 05:18 pm (UTC)Great job. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-04-15 04:17 pm (UTC)I love that girl!Dean is still DEAN. I love protective!Sam.
And boots. Yum.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-13 06:18 am (UTC)Well done!
no subject
Date: 2006-09-04 02:00 am (UTC)I just have so much respect for your voice for these characters, you hit the mark every time.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-04 05:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-03 04:51 am (UTC)