fem!sd fics
(Closed, Moderated, Unrevealed, Anonymous)
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Summary
“Dean?” she says, voice wavering. “Um, can I get your opinion on something?”
And you’re a fucking fool, because you look up.
She’s barefoot. It’s the first thing you notice, before you your gaze climbs the golden length of her shaved legs to land on the rest of her, and—then your heart is stopping, it’s breaking, it’s leaping up into your throat to choke you. She’s in a fairly simple push up bra and matching lace boy shorts—white, like your mother’s dress when she burnt on the ceiling, white like a bride, white like hotel sheets, white like she read your mind, and heard what makes you wet. “Jesus, Sammy,” you say, tearing your eyes away, feeling your cheeks color. “What the fuck are you doing.”
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Dean’s been hanging out at the bar with Sam the way she always does, arm slung around her getting lower and lower the more half-ass drunk she gets.
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Sam wonders which of the dykes still knocking around the pool tables this girl belongs to. If she’s gonna have to break up some stupid fight and spend the rest of her night tending to Dean’s busted hands. Of course, she wonders if Dean’s just trying to fuck with her. She wonders that with all the girls.