darkangelazure

I said I would post it :)

2008-07-01T18:09:13Z

I said I would post this up, it's origianlly posted by koichiko so... I hope you lot have a go, it's quite fun :) Have a good day and did anyone run into LiveJournal's maintinace message?!

1. What's your nickname?
2. How old are you?
3. Where are you from?
4. Are we friends or will be?
5. What do you think about me?
6. What is the best and the worst thing about you?
7. What is your philosophy?
8. Some of you favorite bands or artists?
9. Tell me 3 of your favorite songs(one happy, one sad and your favorite at all):
10. Do you smoke or drink?
11. Do you have a piercing or a tattoo?
12. Do you like gay people or are they disgusting for you?
14. If you had 3 wishes, what would you wish? (Please no "world-peace" and so on):
15. If you only have 1 day to live, what would you like to do?
16. And what would you do if it was me, who only has 1 day to live?
17. Future dreams?
18. Describe you in one sentense:
19. Last words you want to share?
20. Would you post this, so I can make it for you?

(Fic) The Goal was to Hibernate

2008-06-24T21:33:34Z

Disclaimer:I don't own any of the characters featured in this fic, it's just a bit of fun, don't sue me!
Title: The Goal was to Hibernate
Pairing(s):Sam/Dean
Rating(s):NC-17
Warning(s):Pre-Series, Underage (Sam is 16), Consensual Incest, Blood, Language and Angst.
Summary: Adrenaline still running hot and sticky, just a buzz beneath the hop, skip, jump of his heart as he squeezed the shotguns trigger, the boom knocking him and the smoke of gunpowder burning his throat.

Sam hated this part. Like the monsters could smell his deceit, his heart dipped in tar with it, their fingers sticky with innocent blood and sharp hungry teeth, like they could feel him crawl round their nests, their eyes glowing with a recognition of the darkness in him and he'd pull the trigger when he could see the whites of their eyes.

A/N:The title is the title of Bon Iver's Album (check it out, it's awesome). This is UN-BETA'D if anyone would like to volunteer I really, really wouldn't mind! As always Comments=Love

You can find all My Fics at My Master List

Adrenaline still running hot and sticky, just a buzz beneath the hop, skip, jump of his heart as he squeezed the shotguns trigger, the boom knocking him and the smoke of gunpowder burning his throat.

Dean would whoop and Dad would clap him on the shoulder for a warm minute between the bitter seconds of death and the realization he wasn't bleeding out into the dirt.

But John's praise never lasted long and the darkness would cloud over his jagged features, ruff with looping grief and unsatisfied lust for revenge that always lurked underneath.

It was usually a cheap shot like “Why didn't you follow orders?! You could've got yourself killed ya stupid boy!” or “Lets salt 'n' burn and get outta here” always cheap and quick.

Dean was always a little more warm, still burning with the hunt and hands twitching with the need of release usually pushing Sam around, knocking him and gripping him to tight with a one armed hug, bicep through dirty leather digging into his neck.

And the gun powder clogging his throat, the high never lasted long with Sam. But Dean could keep riding the crest as they rolled into their motel room, smudged with muck and blood and guts and sweat, everything nasty and grit stuck in teeth.

Sam was always irritated while Dean was too loud, smiling and crackling with all the sparking drugs that ran through his veins, wanting to fight and fuck, throwing Sam around with a playful tug to his smirk and his eyes wet jet and hungry.

His hands too ruff in Sam's hair, fingers pinching and pulling at his sleeves, sometimes whirling him round the cramped rooms like a rag doll or rilling him into heavy breath wrestling matches on the thread bare carpets that always smelt of cigarettes and cheap industrial cleaners that came in intimidating white cartons.

Sam put up with it, limbs airy and exhausted, even the scratch of the motel sheets and hearing the plastic wrapped mattress under his weight while Dean showered and sung over the spray was enough to lull him on his feet.

Maybe swaying back and forth like a fleshy pendulum on the edge as John slipped into his own room, most of the time just a door away but his presence was always heavy no matter where he decided to be for Sam.

Dean would come out of the shower, towel damp and wrapped round his hips, still dripping and a slow smile still going, eyes blown black with just rings of emerald underneath the half mast of his eyelids.

Sam would crack a smile, muscles aching under his skin as his lips stretched and feeling his eyes glass over as he cataloged Dean's scars, some raised and candy pink from the hot water, some silver with age and stark against the scolded peach and sprayed with freckles, his brass amulet golden, the leather strap black and startling against his skin.

“Hey” Dean would croak, gravel against leather and deep with the ride. Sam's skin would crawl, always the same thing.

Dean's eye's would give it all away, rimmed jade and sticky like molasses in moon light, his smile lazy and his voice just on the edge of want.

And God did Sam know that much, his body always felt like a puddle of cells, hormones and want,all bony elbows a crocked knees, always clawing under his skin as Dean would slip into clean boxers and an over used shirt.

The shower would always be on the edge of too hot but it'd be enough to dissolve the splattered mud, blood, the almost crystallized sweat like a lair of grit, cheap shampoo and milky conditioner, scrubbing his skin to an abused pink, everything smelling too sweet.

But there'd never be enough hot water, the pipes gurgling and the pressure stuttering to prickling cold, like ice sheets slipping across the planes of his back, clamping his eyes shut against the pain. Stumbling out of the stall and shivering, always a spare towel in the sink and his opaque reflection hiding his flaws.

If the lights were on, florescent and showing stains then it's his own bed, cool sheets and listening to Dean's breaths even out and slowly rumble into snores, and if he listened hard enough he could hear the pitter-patter of his own heart beat.

But the lights hadn't being on in months, this whole situation had slipped between being a ritual and a habit.

So in the darkness, the flicker of passing car lights was enough for him to find his flannel pajama pants and maybe a over sized T-shirt, too soft and smelling too clean against the skitter of his skin, rising heat that boiled in his gut.

Slipping between the same smelling sheets, they'd tangle at the ankles first, a few minutes and the fabric collecting and trapping their heat, maybe another flash of car headlights and Dean's hand would curl at his hip.

Thumbing up the hem of his shirt and rubbing against the exposed skin, stretched over bone and sensitive enough to make Sam bit his lip, breathing through his nose and feeling calloused fingers tangle into the hairs below his belly button.

His arm trapped under himself and his fingers grasping the sheets, Dean's mouth next, lips chapped and warm against the wetness of Sam's neck, hair still dripping and clumped together.

The darkness hides everything, Sam's skin had already started to flush, a scarlet wave crawling across his torso, Dean's chest already flush against his back, the heat cracking under the sheets as Sam opened his eyes, another car.

Like a flash light shinning through the gloom, a bed untouched and the duffel bags ravaged, clothing spilt like insides on the over vacuumed carpet, he could feel Dean's fingers map the ridges of his sternum, skin shivering under his touch and mouth open, hot and wet against his neck.

He could already feel teeth on flesh and the tremors were already racking his bones, always growing and like toothache pain in his marrow, but Sam's aches weren't the subject now and it was his skin that talked, singing like a whore under his brothers fingers like it aways did.

The taste of blood was like a friend as Dean's knuckles brushed against a pebbled nipple, Sam knew the color of it like he knew the scars on Dean's back, just like he knew Dean wanted his mouth.

The feel of his wet tongue, tasting Sam's pulse, a ruff palm and fingers circling Sam's right wrist and he could already feel his pajamas tent, filling with heat and need, but it was nothing new, always half hard and wanting.

But it was a shock, enough to make him yelp when Dean pulled his arm up, stretched tendons and his hand curled and pinned against the MDF headboard, half on his back and side.

But Dean's mouth was quick, he doesn't let the yelp fully fledge, escape the darkness and through the thin walls, tongue hot and thick and too eager to taste. Sam was used to this bit, eyes closed against and sagging against Dean's dominance.

Dean always got like this, not just pinning Sam between fun but a sort of necessity to show Sam he was “Second in Command” “Nearly Alpha Male” it could come out in small orders to full blown bites, a sometimes necklace of mottled bruises.

But it was always this way after a hunt, him still coming down from it, hungry and ready to fight and fuck, own something, mark and scent, Sam was always at hand for that.

His arm was free, pins and needles prickling on every inch as the blood rushed back through the veins.

Dean's body was bent at the hip, knees bumping and Sam could feel his dick, steel wrapped in flesh and hot enough to brand skin. Dean's tongue poking and prodding the bleeding dint in Sam's lip, tasting Sam's copper tang and swirling round Sam's mouth.

Sam could feel the circulation in his hand dull, tingling and fingers curling against Dean's knuckles as Dean's other hand thumbed the new muscles, ridges and davit scars that Sam could already feel shame for.

Bubbling just as hot as his want, swirling in his belly, heart jack hammering with a new drug, Adrenaline had burned away and now it was Endorphins and Serotonin flashing like comet tails through his vein.

Dean's hand going lower, lower , lower, a callous snagging at the elastic. Sam gasped, and the curve of Dean's mouth against his, maybe mocking as he slid a warm dry palm against the hard flesh of his dick, digging his own into Sam's cleft and almost laughing onto Sam's tongue.

The stutter-stumble of his heart and the zig-zag lighting stripping up his spine, dry, hard skin on his dick enough to make him whimper as Dean growled. Warning maybe, cock grinding into the groove of Sam's ass, but Sam knew enough to move with it, hissing against the dry friction.

Dean's chuckle cracked the almost silence that had become a rule for them, and Pablo Naruda's words always echoed in Sam's head when this happened between the shadow and the soul.

Sam's mouth became cool, Dean's absent along with his hand from Sam's cock and Sam could feel himself flounder, mouth open and gasping in the stale oxygen that he felt his lungs crave for.

Could hear the hack of him spitting onto his palm, Sam didn't even open his eyes, already imagining it silver, shiny and thick in Dean's palm.

And all he wanted to do was break the silence and shine more light onto the both of them as Dean's now slick palm and fingers wrapped round his cock. Strokes sure and experienced.

Dean smiled through the new kiss letting go of Sam's now bruised wrist, grasping at the hem of Sam's pajama's pants, pulling against and pushing them down, Sam wriggled obediently, neck aching at the angle as he kept his hand against the headboard.

It was an awkward shimmy as Dean wrangled his own boxers off, skin on skin, hot and wet with pre-cum as he slipped his cock between Sam's crack. Sam could feel a small jolt of panic mixing with the lightning shots of pleasure up his spine.

Spit dribbling down his chin and the new edge to the game they'd been playing for the past few months was nearly the last straw for Sam, teetering over the edge of bliss as Dean's hips canted, bitting and fucking Sam's mouth with abandon.

And Sam could feel Dean was close, his thrusts erratic and messy, Sam could be a bitch when he wanted to be, clenching the muscle of his ass as Dean's hand faltered on his dick, thumb sweeping over the head to hard, spit, pre-cum and sweat slick.

The bed was already starting to squeak, the rusted nails and cheap frame squealing as Sam's body convulsed, every muscle clamping down and throat almost sealing shut against the wave of white fire bursting through his nervous system, toes curling, balls tightening and every synapses in his brain firing as he came over Dean's always split knuckles.

It was only when he came down, floating and the sounds the world almost under water when he felt Dean come, the hot splatter against the small of his back and curve of his ass, a soft grunt into his slack mouth before he slumped.

Sam's ribcage caved a little, shimmers of pain and lungs straining for air as he felt Dean's, the heavy rabbit foot stomp of his massive heart almost matching Sam's.

Sam would have liked to think that as he felt Dean slither off his body, pulling at his pants, up over the cooling mess, his hands more uncoordinated on Sam's body, a lot less hard, wanting, taking then at the beginning.

But it always played out this way. The shifting dip in the bed as Dean pulled up his own boxers from around his knees and padding with an almost contented sigh to the other bed.

And Sam wondered, maybe next time they could do this with the lights on.

The End

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Here's to Hoping!

2008-06-07T16:34:42Z

At the moment I've started nearly 4 stories-

1-The Goal was to Hibernate
2- A Day by the Sea
3-Wicked Ride (sequel to Better off Dumb)
4-Sharing Shades of Grey

But I have writer's block, I mean major writer's block. The type that feeling like a 10 ton slab of concreat, which apart for the fact that Yay I've finished college for the summer and second I'm going to Download Festival in 5 days still kinda sucks becuase really I just want to get them all finished off, I have it all planned out in my head the worst part is finding the right words.

But like I said here's to hoping, but on the same note, I have no Beta, none one of my friends crying_soilder his computers gone down and I'm not sure he's finished Beta'ing the fic I sent him ages ago "Oh Lately It's So Quiet" but it's not his fualt, porr guys computers spazed out on him plus my usual Beta popeiathehippo has a life now! A LIFE! I'm screwed! totally screwed but I'm happy for her!

So yes I'm kinda screwed really!

On a lighter key I listened to the best podfic ever by the great sadcypress who is so awesome it's not even possible to express in words doing the monster of a story "The Devil Really Does Wear Prada" by balefully who is awesome also.

Also I'm totally missing out on listening to the fancommentary by celtic_cookie and sophie_448 who are fucking hilerious never mind they totally cock rock the place down! So I'm behind listening to them (4 fucking episodes behind ugh!) So yeah I'm totally pimping lods 'a' stuff because it totally does deserve pimping, so yeah anyone reading this please go and check out spn_fancomment becuase it's fantastic!!

So yes here's hoping to the end of my writer's block and finding a steady Beat-Reader!!

(Fic) Missing All My Mistakes

2008-05-26T20:58:13Z

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters featured in this fic, it's just a bit of fun, don't sue me!
Title: Missing All My Mistakes
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Rating(s):NC-17
Spoiler(s): AHBL Part 2.
Warning(s): Blood, Alcohol, Angst, Consensual Incest, Drugs and Language.
Summary: Sam was going to miss his eyes. The lush evergreen that reminded him of running through woods in forgotten states, the complete glow like sweet shots of Green Chartreuse on sticky New Orleans nights and laying in fields for unknown hours breathing in the almost freedom. If Sam got close enough, he could see the flecks of gold and burnt umber, like chipped gold leaf off old chandeliers and burning caskets. (Based before Mystery Spot)
A/N: I started writing this before the final episode of season 3.Thank you
popeiathehippo you are the best!

Can find all my fics at my Master List

000

This wasn't his happy ever after he'd dreamed about. The light daydreams and witching hour philosophies. He'd even planned his whole life to a perfect fantasy T. Laid out on dusty porches and spread against the lush green grasses of abandoned fields.

Laid in the motel bed, the ghostly cheapness of neon vacancy light glowing through the not so closed peach curtains.

Sam knew he was going to miss his smile and obscene gestures to a waitress with huge tits. His taste in foot stompers and almost sexual pleasure he got from magic fingers.

He was laid in the slight dark of another nameless motel room doing what Dean called "emo", but his brooding gave him stock of how far his life had diverted from the path he'd wanted all those years ago, as a starry eyed teenager, with dreams further then the stars from the reality he'd been brought into.

But as Sam curled his hand around the smooth wood of his knife under his head, the scratch of the almost clean pillows and the scent of motel soap and them filling his head, he knew he was going to miss Dean's smell, halfway between oily love for the car and adrenaline sweat of the hunt.

The scent of his battered leather jacket and the spice under it all, the natural scent of him as he would lay on the motel beds, exhausted and vulnerable just for Sam to have.

And God he could feel it, the lump rising in his throat and the almighty ache that made him want to curl in on himself with every tired heartbeat.

Sam was going to miss his eyes. The lush evergreen that reminded him of running through woods in forgotten states, the complete glow like sweet shots of Green Chartreuse on sticky New Orleans nights and laying in fields for unknown hours breathing in the almost freedom.

If Sam got close enough, he could see the flecks of gold and burnt umber, like chipped gold leaf off old chandeliers and burning caskets.

He was going to miss his sound. Halfway between the whiskey sour of their father's and all the comfort he supposed he should remember of their mother's. He was going to miss his laugh, the quick bark and the strung out cackle when he found something hilarious. But he was going to miss it for the things he never said, the in-between moments of shared silence where he knew Dean would say it all if he could, he was going to miss the message beneath the octave and just above the meaning.

Sam was a little shocked with himself as he sat up in the too-small bed, his eyes sore looking through the electric gloom of the room. It didn't take long to adjust to the little amount of light to see Dean.

And it hit him again, the heartache and the sickness bubbling in the pit of his stomach, the agonizing want making every breath stained with an injustice he felt towards their whole life.

He was going to miss the way Dean looked. He'd never been around anyone else who looked more like a man should than Dean. He was built and muscular in all the right places, the 50's romance of his jaw line and all the perfect scars that decorated his body. The freckles speckled and dotted over his strong shoulders and the smooth bridge of his nose Sam could see when he got close enough.

Sam had only tasted Dean twice in his whole life, and he was damn sure that he was going to miss that as much as all the rest.

The first time, 17 and strung out on his first shots of tequila and a joint Dean shouldn't have given him, higher than cloud nine and loose-limbed in the backseat of the Impala, skin tingling, every scrape of his hoodie and the difference between the warmth of jeans and cool air over his exposed knees.

The wispy wanderings of his mind compared to the solid creak of the leather beneath him made him laugh so hard tears fell, the almost too-much sensation of Dean's hands carding through his hair, the coolness of his ring scraping against his scalp left him purring and chasing after the feeling as he opened his eyes against the circuit board lights of the city below.

"Oh man." He remembered sighing against the swirling heaviness of the air around them, the constant heat of Dean sliding up next to him, trying to grip onto anything solid as he felt the overwhelming scratch of stubble against the curve of his ear, closing his eyes against the swell of his heart and Dean's smile in his hair.

He could hear Dean's rumble of a chuckle and the harsh scratch of him taking in the scent of Sam's hair. Sam felt every inch of skin sing so loud with a longing as Dean's fingers danced beautifully over the hollow of his throat and his dick twitching against the too-abrasive texture of his jeans.

The electric clack of planting his hands wide and star shaped against the almost forever expanse of Dean's built chest, nipples that could cut glass and the heat. God, the heat rolling straight into the palms of his hands and too-much, too-deep sex of his low chuckle into Sam's temple making him almost hyperventilate with the overload.

It was all solid and simple. Just the way Dean was, his hands rough and strong in his hair and zinging sparks down Sam's spine as the wetness of muscle crept against his lips. Sam had opened his mouth with a audible sigh and tasted the whole moment in one buzzing second as Dean slid into him.

It still haunted Sam that Dean had made everything taste just the little bit sweeter as his skin crawled with a over accentuated arousal, making his heart pound so hard he had thought with a small smile at the time that it would swallow them both with its immensity.

But Dean had made the tobacco burn of the tequila more exciting and the acrid heat of his sore throat a soothing, heady warmth before he'd broken away.

The Second. It was desperate, sloppy, and even just as heart encasing as the first. It was what they'd both needed more then they had said, leaving Bobby's and Sam couldn't stop his fingers reaching around himself and brushing the silver line across his spine. It ached, and so did his heart. Dean had pushed Black Sabbath - Iron Man into the tape deck and was belting out the lyrics like a cat drowning in porridge would have sounded, so low and abrasive that it had made Sam smile.

It was a passive-disturbance, like being shoved a little too hard when you weren't looking when Dean pulled the Impala over onto a grassy verge. He'd stopped singing and even smiling in one moment and his calloused fingers were squeezing and flexing against the steering wheel.

Sam had opened his mouth to ask "What's up?" but was dragged into Dean, teeth clacking and the taste of blood already spilling against the tangle of their tongues, the gear stick digging with a constant ache into his waist as Dean threaded his hands into Sam's hair, positioning him to take his mouth.

Sam's hands shot out to steady himself against the headrest and stirring wheel, eyes closed against the taste of Dean, just beneath the canned mac 'n' cheese they'd had at Bobby's and the hair of the dog beer they'd both indulged in, but it was there, sour and sweet with love and desperation. Dry lips, but so sweet inside that Sam could have drowned in it.

Dean, all in the same instant, had shoved him back into his seat, hands back on the steering wheel and pulling them back into the road. But nothing was said as Sam flipped the tape, they just knew there wasn't anything to say. Just left the words hanging like they always had, comfortable in the static silence and Sam could hear it all loud and clear.

Needed to know you were there.

Wanted to feel you here.

Glad you're back. Bitch.

And that had been enough.

When Sam's feet planted themselves against the thinned carpet of the motel room, feeling the cool air dance against the exposed flesh of his thighs and shoulders, he stared at the silhouette of Dean sleeping.

He was going to miss it all, the moments they had together. He was going to miss his almost allergic reaction to vegetables that weren't fried and his warmth. Sam was going to miss his valor and bravery, his silent stoicism to a situation. The sparse but meaningful hugs they hardly shared. The small things.

The way he chewed on a pen and the glint in his eyes when a bar played AC/DC and his love for pie.

The small fact he knew Dean loved him just that little bit more than the Impala. The fact Dean loved his car and referred to it as his girl. Like all the women in his life couldn't match up to her sleek black paint job and the times they spent stuck on the edge of a butt-fuck nowhere road as he replaced a tire.

The way he snored more when he was tanked and his still complete obedience to their dad, even if he was just ashes. The small smile he got when he thought Sam wasn't looking. The love he had for their job and how at one time he'd let Sam go to make his own mistakes and still saved him.

The fact that every time Sam cried or bled in the dingy motel rooms, Dean was there just at his back, the knowing presence that knew all his flaws and still wanted to be near him.

He was going to miss all the mistakes Dean made and the guilt he held for them, every scar from barf ights and hand-to-hand hunting jobs gone bad. Sam was going to miss the smell of his blood, the sight of it, the ripple of muscle when they trained. The huff and sigh of boredom when they didn't go to a bar.

The scent of his skin laced with cheap perfume and the too-red lipsticks that stuck to his freckled flesh. The way he tried to get Sam laid, just because he's an awesome brother.

The fact that at one time they had allowed themselves to be more and they could have that if either chose to want it. The fact that he gave Sam his choices and let him be him.

He was going to miss having Dean's anger and his control. Dean having his back and possessing the reasonability of looking after Dean himself, even if Dean wouldn't admit it.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed breathing in all his memories of them dozing in the Impala and Dean giving him the last bowl full of Lucky Charms.

He was going to miss Dean's heart, his warrior valor and all the love he still held even after everything they'd seen.

He was going to miss the shitty arguments and the times he would catch Dean staring at himself in the mirror, with a faraway bitterness he reserved for his own reflection.

He was going to miss the longing he had every time Dean would smile his way and the way he wanted onions with everything no matter how much it made Sam's stomach turn.

He was going to miss his love, Dean's all-consuming love and the fact that he felt the same way.

And as Sam let himself cry silently in the dingy darkness, he was going to miss a part of himself, because he knew he'd sacrifice it for Dean.

He wasn't going to have to miss Dean.

The End

(Fic) Your Love's Safe With Me

2008-05-24T10:26:08Z

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters featured in this fic, it's just a bit of fun, don't sue me!
Title: Your Love's Safe With Me
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Rating(s): PG-13
Spoiler(s): For Season 3 Episode 16. (If you haven't seen it don't read, you'll spoil the ending for yourself!)
Warning(s): Angst, Blood, Hints of Wincest.
Summary: Maybe that's the wound that's weeping? Because everything hurts, trying to be outside the pain and trying not to forget that he can't leave the room, forcing himself to keep his eyes closed, because maybe, just maybe, this isn't real.
A/N: Hello all, hope everyone enjoys the fic and a massive, huge Thank you to

gestaltrose who beta'd this! Thank you mate!! And Thank you to spn_betas for helping me find a beta! (If you're looking for a Beta or want to give it a try and help someone out go have a look!) Anyway the usual Comments=Love and hope you all enjoy! Thanks :)

Can find all here at my Master List

000

Sam doesn't open his eyes, just tastes the tears like ash on his tongue and the air in his head tainted with blood, eyes swollen shut. He can already feel something missing.

An open wound that won't stop bleeding out into him and his eyes still shut against the morning, poking it's nose into the room.

He'd locked Bobby out. He hasn't shaved and he doesn't want to know it's yesterday.

There's no sound and he doesn't know for a second that he's lost, between dreaming the day wasn't over and reality crushing his already cracked heart. He thinks it might be his heart that's missing.

Maybe that's the wound that's weeping? Because everything hurts, trying to be outside the pain and trying to forget that he can't leave the room. Forcing himself to keep his eyes closed, because maybe, just maybe, this isn't real.

That's it. It's just another nightmare, that the blood caked under his fingernails, flecking in his flexing grip, isn't Dean's.

That he's not at Bobby's and Dean's not opened up like a cow's carcass, that he's just sleeping. Trying real hard not to remember there's no other sound of breathing in this place except for his.

He didn't shut the curtains and he can already hear Bobby pacing on the other side of the door, he doesn't want to hear him. Bobby, Bobby should have left when he told him, should have just left them together, he wants to hear Dean.

He wants his crap singing voice and his cheap jibes.

Sam even wants his anger to wash away the pain, because it's not stopping and it's not going away. He just wants the world to go away and leave Dean with him, here in a bubble and the pink-crimson of closed eyelids.

If he keeps his eyes closed none of this will be real and he can have this. Just for another minute forget that his heart keeps breaking and Dean's not in the bed. Maybe he can slip back into the dark stickiness of his dreamless sleep, where there's no now or before or future, just the two of them silent in the front seat or close enough to feel each other lips, warm and chapped and just as sweet as the first time.

Back when they sat under the summer sun and they were young enough to love with everything and not care.

But it's cold. Morning's here and it's cold, and he isn't sleeping anymore. He's awake with his eyes closed and Dean's not even warm anymore. He's locked away with blood in his hair and tears running down his cheeks.

Body protesting against the sitting situation and his heart breaking with no one left to love.

So he opens his eyes.

The End

Fic Master List

2008-05-11T15:19:51Z

Supernatural-

Sam/Dean-
The Goal was to Hibernate
Missing All My Mistakes
Your Love's Safe With Me
Better Off Dumb
Holding Up the Sky Above Us
Through Car Windows

Heroes-

Matt/Mohinder-

Cardboard Car Chases
Star Trek Bunny
Toothpaste Kisses
Domestic Anomalies

Peter/Nathan-

Take My Hand and Run
Victory of Kisses
The Moral High Ground
20 and Something More
Instinct
Left Behind
Hiding From You
Holding

(Blog) I Am Iron Man

2008-05-11T12:04:22Z

So yesterday I went to go see Iron Man at my local cinema!

I'm comic book fan and so when I first saw the teasers and clips on the net also the rumours of there being an Iron Man film, I totally freaked! So alot of waiting later and alot of squeeing everytime i got a whiff of it it fanally comes on the big screen.

I wanted to go see it it's opening week but for one thing, the lines! Two totally broke all the time!

So yes Yesterday!

Well I went in watched the movie and I'n not joking dudes but I fucking spazed out! Not only did they promptly open with AC/DC-Back in Black (whihc is just a fucking thumbs up for me!) But it just got better from there!

I mean aside from the fucking music (which is fantastic) The SFX are mind blowing I mean absolutly mental! Oh and don't get me started on the cars he had in the film for one he was rebilding a hot rod with a glass desplay hood of the fucking beautiful engine, then he crushed his COBRA he fucking gorgeous blue with white racing strips Cobra while learning how to fly in the suite.

Then he was driving around in R8 Audi which besides from fucking beautiful sounded mind blowing.

And if anyone doesn't find the suite and the way it's all put on apart from incredible but fucking hot, theres something wrong with becuase DAMN! I was practically hanging out my seat.

Ok so I might have a little kink for metal, and weapons and cars ok sue me I'm a SPN fangirl and I couldn't help myself when they played AC/DC.

So yes all in all I fucking love the movie, I LOVED IT!

Oh for all those people who haven't seen it seriously you are missing out becuase it is the best comic book adaptation I have ever seen and I've seen pretty much all of them!

OK so I'll give you a list-
Iron Man
Hellboy (second movie comes out this year YAY!)
Spawn (very B-movie but if your like me it makes it cooler!)
Spider-Man (seen them all!)
Hulk( That one flopped for me but the next one that is coming out this year looks fucking amazing! Incredible Hulk)
30 Days of Night (Yes I'm also a graphic novel freak!)
All Batman(Yes I mean all of them including the really crappy ones with Val Kilmer and even George Clooney, but Tim Burtins was ace! Can't wait for this years instalment with the late and great Heath Ledger)
Fantastic Four 1&2 (Yes I thought they rocked in a very comic book classic line kinda way and all the sqeaky cleaness of them! hehehe!)
X-Men 1,2&3 (Three was my personal fav only becuase it had one of my fav characters in it Beast!! Who doesn't love Beast and who can't think Wolverine is fantastic!!)
History of Violence (Yes That was a Graphic Novel people!)

So yes thats all I can remmeber right now!

GO SEE IRON MAN! (if you haven't seen it yet lol)

peace out!

Better off Dumb-Part 6

2008-04-17T16:56:44Z

Disclaimer:I don't own any of the characters featured in this fic, it's just a bit of fun, don't sue me!
Title: Better off Dumb
Rating(s):NC-17
Warning(s):Consensual Incest, Underage (Sam is 16), Bad Language, Alcohol and Angst.
Prompt(s):Prompt from the community spn_comingclean</lj>I would like to claim- cuadette prompt- Okay, this one would be angsty in the sense that... there will be angst. Dean's sneaking around on night trying to steal one of his dad's condoms when he and (under aged) Sam are trying to have sex for the first time. They've done "other" stuff but this time they decided to go all the way. John catches him and figures it out and all hell breaks lose.
A/N: Thank you to my brilliant friend and most-of-the-time beta popeiathehippo</lj> who is totally ace!! Thank you so much!

3 Weeks Later

Sam's hand hovered near the door, breath caught in his throat as he smoothed his other hand through his hair, before he gripped the hem of his jeans.

The hammering of his heart drowning out the buzz of the florescent light above his head. The place was dark and a little damp. The landlord had told him he could find “Dean Osbourne” in the basement apartment as he perched a cigarette on his chapped lips.

So here he was, digging the worn toe of his converse into the yellowed tiles and staring at his hovering hand over the brass-black numbers of the green door.
“Moment of truth Winchester” Sam whispered to himself, letting out a loud shaky sigh as he wrapped his knuckles on the flacking green paint.

It seemed so loud and abrasive to his nerve sensitized hearing, just loud enough over the sickening ba-dum, ba-dum of his quickening heart.

It was even more shocking when the door was thrown open, the light nearly blinding him as Dean's shadow loomed over him.

“Sa-” Dean breathed out, his voice full of complete awe and shock as he was barged past, nearly balled over by his younger brother.

Sam knew if he had stayed in the hallway Dean would have tried to stop him from entering. Would have told him to leave that he shouldn't have being there, but Sam couldn't give his relief time to stupefy him.

The apartment was all open plan, the kitchens was pea green and a sickly shade of grease covered yellow. The floor was concrete and a few rugs were spread through the place. He could see through to the bedroom, the sheets were rucked and white and a T.V stood on a an old wooden box, the sofa was a dirt beige and green beer bottles lined the bottom.

“You shouldn't be here.” Was the only thing Dean could force himself to say. But trust Sam to find him. John was right, the place was cheap and he had a nice view of peoples ankles and foot wear every time he made himself toast.

“3 weeks, 5 days and 12 hours” Sam blurted out, his round doe, brown eyes trying to bore into Dean's soul as he closed the door behind himself.

“What? Fuck Sam you shouldn't be here. Dad will fucking skin you and me if he finds out you're here, so just go.” Dean sighed reaching round and turning the door handle, the door was a inch open before it was violently wrenched from his hand. Sam had thrown his back flush against the wood.

“3 weeks, 5 days and 12 hours. Since-since I wanted more from what we have.” Sam had an inch on Dean and he could feel it. Sam's hair had fallen into his eyes and Dean could feel his fingers burn with the need to tuck it.

“Yeah well tough luck you ain't gettin' it so I suggest you go, now.” Dean crossed his arms over his wide chest. Trying to force courage to swell his heart more then the want.

God he could feel it, like his veins were pumping battery acid with it, because as much as he hated to admit to himself he'd missed everything about what they had. He'd missed the taste of Sam, the softness and hardness of him, his smile and even the smell of him, all book smoke and apple shampoo and it hurt to have him standing there. Pleading brown eyes and feeling the same gut wrenching want just like he was.

“3 weeks, 5 days and 12 hours and I've missed you every second.” Sam voice fractured, palms flat against the cool wood and his bottom lip trembled with the ache of his heart and the tears.

“Oh Sammy.” Dean's arms feel to his side and the silver string of his heart tugged him forward. He couldn't even stop himself, forehead flush against Sam's, the scratch of his hair and Dean could feel Sam's scent fill him, all the same sweetness.

Where had all his resolve gone? He asked himself as he felt the familiar humid brush of breath against his lips, the same scent of candy apple shampoo and teenage skin.

“3 weeks, 5 days and 12 hours and I'll never regret any of it.” Sam whispered, voice hitched and breathy as his lips chased forward to press soft and tear slicked against Dean's.

The tension snapped like a electrical cable, lashing through the space as Dean buried his fingers in Sam's thick locks, tipping his head up and plunging in with no restraint.

It wasn't loving or slow, all the need breaking like a damn. The force of the rush making them both dizzy with it all. Teeth clicking and the metallic spike of blood laying underneath the taste of each other.

Hands clawing and tearing against the barrier of fabric, bitten off nails scrapping against the jumping muscles and all the suffocating want drowning them both as Sam wrapped his long legs round Dean's waist.

Rubbing and grunting into each other as they rutted, leaning into the flacking green of the door and grinding against each other, feeling the hot dampness and hardness against the other.

The sting of the kiss smothered by the heat, lining the pleasure as Dean nipped against the line of Sam's jaw. Sucking and branding against the thick pulse as Sam's hands cradled the back of his head, pushing him in further moaning and grunting loud as his hips cantered down against his.

Dean's muscles burned as he staggered them both into the bedroom, knocking the bottles over with his uneven steps as Sam devoured his mouth, biting and sucking on his bottom lip as he gripped his shoulders, locking his ankles against the small of Dean's back.

They landed with no grace onto the unmade bed, mouths sealed and tongues tangled as spit dribbled down their chins.

It was Dean that pulled away first, hands lunging for Sam's fly and pulling it open with a hard snap, yanking down boxers and jeans fast and dirty as he sucked on the twitching planes of Sam's abs.

Sam threw his head back, mouth open as hiccuped moans forced their way from his mouth as Dean enveloped the glistening tip of his erection, sucking hard and lashing his tongue over the weeping slit.

Sam gripped desperately onto the sheets, bunching the material in his fists as Dean's left hand pushed his shirt under his arms before pinching his nipples, nipping them between his nails and twisting them painfully as he buried his nose into the golden-brown curls and swallowed.

Dean pulled his own pants down, wriggling his hips and yanking against the elastic of his own boxers, tonguing the thick vein of Sam's cock as he let the leaking tip of it bob on his swollen pink lips.

His jeans were at his ankles when Sam looked down at him, bangs already sticking to his sweat slicked forehead, eyes an endless shade of obsidian, glassy and wanting, the pure guttural moans filtering from his kiss abused mouth sent electric want to his cock, twitching and weeping pre-cum against the sheets.

He'd missed this. The pure taste of Sam laying heavy against his palate, the bitterness of him had turned into a drug for Dean without him realizing as he took Sam in again, swallowing him past his gag reflex and feeling Sam's cock swell in his throat.

Sam's orgasm hit him hard and fast, sweeping through his body like a tidal wave as he arched up off the bed, Dean's hands pinning his bony hips to the mattress as he teetered on his shoulders, hair splayed and mouth open in a silent scream of completion.

Dean didn't spill a drop of Sam, wiping his thumb over a seem of white that had escaped and sucking on it, savoring the bitterness as he watched Sam fall back down from his orgasm, his sweat gilded flesh glowing in the sparse white light. His caramel locks veiling his closed eyes as his pink mouth sucked in lung fulls of sex stained air.

Through the haze Sam could feel Dean, feel his lips and tongue kiss him, suck the tip of his hips, trail and taste the sweat pooled in his belly button. Kiss the hard curve of his pecs. Feeling the electric zing of his hot mouth envelop his bruised nipples.

Sam whined against the stimulation of his over sensitized body, whimpering as Dean rolled his balls and sucked on his already marked neck. But it was all swallowed by his kiss.

Diving his tongue into Sam's mouth making Sam taste himself on his tongue, the salty slickness of himself reawakening his arousal.

It was then that he heard the almost abrasive scrap of the bedside draw opening, Dean was still kissing him, kissing him deep and soft like he was trying to steal Sam's breath right out of his lungs.

Dean finally found it, feeling the cool black foil clamped between his fingers, running the corner of it over Sam's collar bone, down the seam of his chest and over his abused nipples as he sucked on his thick bottom lip.

Sam keened into the scratch of it, pulling his mouth away from Dean's and tugging at the hem of his shirt, urging for more skin.

Sam's own shirt was still bunched under his arms, chest and cheeks flushed and mouth swollen, slick with kisses. His nipples were angry and red, the purple bruising was already seeping through just like the bites against the smooth column of his neck.

The black square of the condom stark against the pink of his chest, the tousled splay of his brown hair and the blackness of his already lusty gaze, all this for Dean.

Dean had already pulled out the lube as he pulled his shirt from his sweaty body, Sam followed suit wriggling out of his own and propping himself up, spreading his thighs and leaning forward, catching the condom in his hand and tearing it open with his teeth.

Dean's hands went to take it from Sam but he just batted them away, whispering breathy and hot against his swollen lips.

“I want to.”

Dean couldn't even force the words onto his tongue, he just nodded and leaned onto his hands, his cock nearly purple with lack of touch and need as he watched Sam's fingers pull out the wet rubber disk.

Sam quickly shuffled forward, rolling on the condom like he'd done in sex-ed class with the cucumber, steady and precise listening to Dean hiss at the coolness of the lube.
Dean had gripped onto the sheets, bunched them in his fists as he felt Sam roll on the rubber, long, slender fingers, trying to be gentle and right as he rolled it down to the base.

Sam's smile was crocked with lust and pride as he laid back on the bed, looking back up at Dean as he he his thighs fall open, the silent challenge, the almost whisper of invitation as he slicked his own fingers up and skimmed them down his thigh, cupping his own balls and stroking his perineum, breathing slow and steady as he circled his entrance.

Biting his lip and stifling the moan that feel as he pushed the first finger into himself, knuckle deep and trembling for more. He'd still done this when Dean had left but it had never being enough and it was even more apparent that moment as he sunk into himself fully.

Dean right then wanted to sink into his brother, balls deep in the impossible tightness he knew was there. Dean began to crawl between Sam's thighs, bracing his palms on either side of Sam's hips as Sam pushed in the second finger.

“De-De..I need-I need you-not enough..it's not enough.” Sam pleaded as he cocked his fingers.

Dean slicked his fingers and rubbed the pink seam of Sam's fingers and entrance before he bushed in, hearing the keen and feeling the wriggle of Sam's fingers against his.

“Oh God, oh God.” Sam chanted as he pulled his fingers from himself and Dean replaced them with his own, stretching over him and diving in for another kiss, messy and wet and everything they wanted it to be as Dean scissored his fingers , corkscrewing against Sam's sweet spot.

Sam dug his fingers into the bulky muscles of Dean's shoulder, holding desperately on as he felt his body sing with a pleasure only Dean could plunge him into, spreading his legs further then the whore he wanted to be for Dean.

It was loud and clear and the air was stained with what they both wanted, what they both craved as Dean finally settled himself between Sam's we thighs. Slipping his fingers out with a loving slowness that he could only summon when it came to his Sammy.

Gripping the sharp roundness of his hips and lifting him like a feather against him, chests sliding with perfect wetness, feeling Sam's arms slid against the slickness of his own shoulders and claw desperately at the slippery curve of his spine as Dean slowly lowered his baby brother onto him.

Sam's knees shuck as he leaned on them, feeling Dean's hands spread his cheeks obscenely wide and skim the rubber covered head of his cock over his wanting hole.

It was then he sunk himself down, whimpering into their half kiss and the burn of the stretch he had wanted for so long, feeling his own breath pushed into Dean's mouth as he felt Dean tense against him.

Dean could only moan as he felt Sam's agonizingly slow descent, feeling the muscle clamp and the pain/pleasure filled keens against his own tongue, the painful stop/start of his cock being enveloped by Sam's perfect tight, heat.

Sam couldn't catch his breath, only the want drove past the burning pain as he pushed himself down, but the frustration never wained, Dean's soothing hands cupped and stroked over his wet flesh, feeling the muscles twitch and ripple with the new sensation.

Dean breathed through his own ache, warring hard and fast against slamming Sam down, to fully seat himself in Sam, but as Dean felt inch by slow agonizing inch been swallowed, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way.

It was then that Sam slammed his own body down, both grunting against the sharp shock of sensation that racked their body's. Dean could feel Sam shake against him, his mouth fall against the bulk of his shoulder, Sam's breath hot and fast against his skin.

Dean's hands gently unfastened his claw like grip on Sam's hips and smoothed over the ridged muscle of Sam's back, feeling Sam's breath jump against his shoulder as he soothed the tension.

It hurt. Sam could feel his tears mist his closed vision as he felt Dean's hands run and rub against the curve of his spine, the ache and deep down burn of being so full catching his breath and hiccuping whimpers as he rolled his hips.

Gripping tighter onto Dean's shoulder blades as the pain flared in him, pleading silently for the pleasure to line the burn as Dean's fingers threaded through is sweat damp stands ,cradling in head softly between his large palms and directing his mouth to his as Dean lifted his own hips.

Hooking his thumbs against the edge of his jaw Dean captured Sam's mouth, letting his own moan fill Sam's mouth as they rocked together, feeling the first inch escape and then being engulfed in perfect embrace.

It was then he felt it. Sam shudder and gasp against him, breaking the open mouth kiss, moaning deep in his throat as he coiled his long arms tighter round Dean's shoulders, nails digging into the angle of his shoulder blades and Sam's thighs tremble as he started to control the rhythm.

“Oh there! Oh God Dean-right there!” Sam gasped, throwing his head back and moaning as he pushed himself down, white lights firing behind his eyelids as he felt Dean hit his prostate directly with every other thrust.

Dean's hands had migrated, gripping tightly onto Sam's hips and lifting as Sam lifted himself, muscles bunching and their sweat melding into each others as it ran in rivulets down the hard angles of rippling muscle. The hard coil of release was already unravling in Dean as the rhthym became erratic, Sam's flesh slick against his as he began to bounce in Dean's lap.

The harsh wet sound of skin against skin puncturing Sam's moans and Dean's grunts ashe burried his face into the curve of his clavical, sucking and breathing into the hit flesh their as began to thrust up into Sam's tight grip, a hand whipping out to griponto the banging headboard of the bed, hips snapping hard bd fast as they both collided to their orgasm.

Sam was the first to fall, slamming himself down onto Dean's cock as he wrapped his long slender fingers round his own erection, sweepping the pad of his thumb over the purple-pink head and that was all it took. Every muscle clenching and spasming with as he shot his release between their bodies. Moaning so loud and low as white lights flashed behind his eyelids.

Dean felt it, the tight channel of Sam clench and squeeze his orgasm from him, he couldn't even thrust into the heat wrapped round his cock as he spilled into the rubber, his arms wrapped themselves round his brothers waist pushing him balls deep into Sam as he came.

By the time Dean had woken up it was dusk. The apartment was dark and the scent of sex and sweat lingered in the air. The soft sound of Sam snoring next to him made his heart swell, they'd done it. They'd finally being able to be together.

He could see the gentle silhouette of him, the curled ends of his heair and the swollen softness of his lips in the almost light, he just smiled, a small and content tug of his lips as he tucked a fat lock behind the shell of Sam's ear.

Dean didn't remember pulling off the condom an throwing it into the waste paper bin next to the bed, but as he sat up int the dark, feeling the sheets pool at his waist and already missing the heat of Sam he knew he didn't regret any of it.

The End

Better off Dumb- Part 5

2008-04-14T15:31:49Z

Better off Dumb-Part 4

2008-04-14T15:28:28Z

Better off Dumb-Part 3

2008-04-14T15:23:49Z

Better Off Dumb-Part 2

2008-04-14T15:18:33Z