Posts Tagged Dean

[Supernatural] Feast of riches; Dean/female, het sex, NC-17

Posted by blackbirch in Fandom or original, Fandom: Supernatural, Rated: Adult, Ratings, Size and sort, Stories on January 4th, 2008

Title: Feast of riches
Author: Blackbirch
Rating: R to NC-17 for het oral sex
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean with OFC (Original Female Character)
Wordcount: almost 2000
Feedback: Yes please. Any kind you can give me.
Archiving: No. I repeat - no.
Disclaimer: All characters are copyright of their originators. No infringement intended, no profit made.
Story Notes: Originally posted August 16th, 2007. Almost 2000 words and of course my muse works best under pressure, when I have a thousand other workrelated things to do instead of write. But it’s nice to feel the need to write as it haven’t been around in a while.

Supernatural Dean, rated adult for oral sex, Dean’s having a lot of sticky fun. And the accent is probably all shot to hell. So if your ears bleed - tell me to get the accents correct. Right on dudes.

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There she was, curled up innocence dressed in black satin. Her auburn hair spread across the pillows, a soft tangled mess he will sink his hands in. Pull her closer and feel her breath against his shoulder.
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[Supernatural] This is how we grieve, ep. tag to 2:17 Heart; Dean, gen

Posted by blackbirch in Drabbles, Fandom: Supernatural, Rated: PG friendly, Ratings on January 3rd, 2008

Title: This is how we grieve - episode reaction after Supernatural s2e17 Heart
Author: Blackbirch
Rating: PG upwards due to hints of violence
Fandom: Supernatural canon, gen
Pairing: none
Wordcount: 811
Feedback: Yes please. Any kind you can give me.
Archiving: No. I repeat - no.
Disclaimer: All characters are copyright of their originators. No infringement intended, no profit made.
Story Notes: Originally posted March 25th, 2007

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He wakes every night to that gunshot. He never says but the way his whole body flinches, sitting straight up in bed and his hand like he’s grasping a gun tighter, arm tensing to take up the recoil. Then he sits there, his eyes dry but his whole body is gasping for air. Huge lungfuls that look painful to draw, like he’s forcing himself to take every breath, forcing the air down into his lungs when all he wants to do is stop breathing. Stop hurting. Stop remembering. Read the rest of this entry »

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