he said funky town

Supernatural Vertical File

an attempt to organize a million links

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Fic Quotes #10
[ other ] lite brite
simonejester wrote in spnverticalfile
Pairings this post: Sam/Dean, Sam/Dean genderswap (well, biological sex-swap) femslash, Gabriel/Dean, Dean/Castiel/Gabriel, Sam/Castiel and Dean/various people in a hot tub in the same fic, gen

The pavement gives out under construction and Dean grits his teeth so they won’t rattle. He can’t grit his balls, though, (he’s tried), [...]

--It's The Blueprint Of Your Life, by queenklu, (Sam/Dean)


Sam is on him, tackling him onto the bed. Muscle memory has Dean’s elbow swinging up to hit Sam’s face—which Sam dodges, thankfully, and pins Dean to the mattress like it’s no effort at all. Well, after the first few seconds it is no effort, because Dean gives up, downstairs brain hijacking his muscles and whispering, Chill dude, roll over, this is the way we get sex.

--yellows, angles or silences by queenklu, (Sam/Dean)


"It's fucking gross, Dean."

"No, it's not. I can't believe you're such a prude that a few slimy tentacles gross you out."

"I can't believe you're such a weirdo that you find nothing wrong with that sentence."


Sam's transfixed by how his own dick looks - thick white loops of the slimy tentacles practically hiding his dick apart from the flushed red head, the tentacle tip rubbing over and over it.

"Holy shit," he breathes. "Looks like the fucking Michelin Man's dick."

Dean snorts a laugh and the tentacle tightens convulsively, and Sam drops his head back, hips shifting into the crazy-good sensation. "Oh my god, you were right, I fucking hate you but oh my god."

--Spectacular, Tentacular, by lazy_daze, (Sam/Dean)


Dean nodded, as if Sam had said something. "Exactly. It's weird, but what isn't weird, in our lives? Huh? The fact we're body-morphed into a freaking lesbian porno is weird enough in and of itself, so why don't we have some fun with it? Try and reclaim this experience, enjoy it for what it is, not just because we have to. Turn it back around on him."

Sam tilted his head slightly to the side. "So basically, you just want to have hot lesbian sex and are trying to morally justify the face that it has to be with your brother."

Dean dropped his hopeful expression and shrugged. "Yeah, well. Is it working?"

Sam twisted his mouth apologetically. "Your tits had halfway convinced me already," he said, gesturing vaguely.

Dean's mouth dropped open, then curved up into a dirty grin. "Sammy," he said approvingly.

"Morals aren't getting me anywhere," explained Sam, "and it's not like I need to feel bad for objectifying you, because you're doing it to A, yourself, and B, me."

Dean smirked, then looked down happily, bringing a hand to feel himself up, thumb flicking over his nipple. He gasped a little, and the aroused pulse between Sam's legs that had faded a little surged back pleasantly.

"They are nice, aren't they," said Dean, appreciatively.

"Mine are bigger." Sam was smug about that, glad that he was always bigger where it counted.

"Mine are perkier!"

"How do you know, I'm still wearing a bra!" Which wasn't even the strangest sentence Sam had uttered in his life, which said something about their lives.


"Now, I know it's been a while for you, Sammy, you sure you remember how to do this?"

"Screw you," said Sam pleasantly. "I'm about to blow your mind."

--she's a real time girl (in my imaginary world), by lazy_daze, (Sam/Dean genderswap femslash)


Castiel stayed silent for a moment, then he reached over and took the bottle out of Gabriel’s hand. The archangel frowned up at him, but the angry words died on his lip when his brother took a swing from the liquor.

‘I’ve never seen you drink before,’ Gabriel said.

‘You’d be surprised,’ his brother replied. ‘Besides, I think the best way to show my support is to sit on your unimaginably dirty couch and get drunk with you, if that is really how you plan to spend your day.’

That actually made a surprise chuckle erupt from Gabriel, not as empty as the one before.

‘I’m good with this plan. My unimaginably dirty couch and I could actually do with some company.’


A loud sound made him look up and frown.

‘What the hell was that?’ he asked.

That was the doorbell,’ Lily answered.

‘Who the hell would ring my doorbell?’ Gabriel asked. Only Castiel visited him in his home and he could just fly right in.

I assume that answering the door is the most productive way of figuring that out, sir,’ the spirit told him with a smile.

--Heart in a riot, by scyllaya, (Gabriel/Dean, slavefic!AU)


They emerged from the bedroom sometime later, but didn't find Gabriel in front of the TV in the living room, but in the kitchen and they both just stared for a few long moments to make sure they were not imagining the sight.

'Please tell me you're not cooking,' Dean said.

'Shut up,' Gabriel answered right away. 'I can cook... well, better than Cas.'

'Everyone cooks better than Cas,' Dean answered immediately.

'I'd be offended if it wasn't true,' Castiel answered calmly as he walked over to the coffee-machine. He was immensely happy that there was some already made.

--We Walked a Million Hills, Chapter 18, by scyllaya, (Dean/Castiel/Gabriel)


"And how exactly is this just desserts?" Dean says, glaring down Gabriel.

"It's not," Gabriel shrugs. "I told you, I'm not the best at apologizing," he says finishing off the Snickers bar. "Now do you want to get into the hot tub or not?"

Dean looks down at the bubbling Jacuzzi; Heidi Klum, Samantha Fox, Lt Uhura, Jessica Rabbit and Dr. Sexy, MD, wave back at him.

"Yes, yes I do."

--The Room, by memphis86, (Sam/Castiel, Dean/various people in a hot tub)


"Think of it like the Impala! Except with no steering wheel, just imagine we're kids and you're pretending to be a space pirate or something – we need to take down the ships that look different then us before we can go anywhere safe.

An Impala? So this Sammy and Dean were at the very least childhood friends, if not related. Huh, that was good to know, if nothing else, it would help a little when he did everything he could to court marshal the idiot as soon as they got back on Atlantis.

"But Saaaaaammmm,” the guy whined, bouncing from one foot to the other like he needed the toilet. Badly.

"You have too, Dean. Otherwise they'll shoot us out of the hemisphere and then we'll end up back in Heaven and the angels will just resurrect us.

Whatever the hell that meant seemed to break through to Blondie. The guy scowled heavily up at the ceiling as if Sam was speaking from there, then stalked to the navigation panel and jabbed his hands onto the glowing surface. Rather then lose further control of the ship, the Jumper came to a soothing stop, almost as if professionally piloted, and the lights around dimmed somewhat into a more controlled environment. Without preamble, Dean steered the Jumper around to face back at the ensuing chaos of them VS the Wraith, his shoulders moving slightly as if physically willing the Jumper to follow his bidding, and with two deep breaths and a muttered god knew what, the ship suddenly gunned it forward towards the attacking ships.


Dreadlocks interrupted his train of thought (and good thing too, he was just starting to feel pissed at Sam all over again for what he did to his baby) made a gesture for them to turn left. Without even pausing in his seriously too long steps, Sam veered off without even blinking, Dean lagging behind by a step or two, trailing along besides them with Dreadlocks dude at his back. As they did, the Colonel guy with the injured shoulder came up besides them, just as Dean chomped off another bite of his totally awesome sandwich, making a noise of pleasure at the taste that had the Colonel do a double take at him. Guy was probably jealous he didn't have a sandwich.

--You Flew Pretty Good, by (AO3)operationhades, (gen, Stargate Atlantis crossover)


The man, her husband by the looks of it, takes up a position behind her, his body language telegraphing that he's armed and ready to use deadly force if there's any threat to his wife. Sam bites back a smile at the thought that Dean is probably mirroring the man's posture, standing a pace behind Sam.


Sam manages to find a decent picture of Mark Rosen, and tries not to feel too smothered when Dean calls him on his cell phone to remind him to eat lunch.

“You remember what the doctor said about blood sugar levels, Sammy.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

“Bite me. Better yet, go bite a sandwich.”


Pamela bends over to rummage in a cabinet, pulling out a black cloth, and her shirt rides up, revealing a faded tattoo that reads 'Jesse Forever.' Sam isn't the only one to notice, but of course Dean is the one to bring it up.

“So who's Jesse?” he asks.

She laughs, looking over her shoulder. “Well, it wasn't forever.”

“His loss,” Dean flashes her another one of his thousand-watt smiles, and she straightens, moves to stand right in Dean's personal space.

“Might be your gain,” she says, then moves away to spread the altar cloth over the table, moving aside the Ouija board. Dean's expression tells Sam that he's just won the lottery.

“Dude, I am so there,” he whispers to Sam, none too subtly, and Sam just snorts.

“Yeah, she's gonna eat you alive,” he whispers back.

“God, I hope so.”

Pamela glances up at Sam and winks. “You're invited too, Grumpy,” she says, and he feels himself flush crimson as Dean digs an elbow into his ribs.

You are not invited!”

--Nihil Inherit, Chapter 1: The New Lazarus, by (AO3)ratherastory, (gen)


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