Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
SPN100 Challenge: toy. 100 & 200 word drabbles. #1: When he's stressed, Dean revisits the happy times in his childhood. #2: Rowena's back with a vengeance and she's just realized she's a Sam-girl. Season 11.
Toying with Affections
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A/N: When he's stressed, Dean revisits the happy times in his childhood. 100 words.
Memories of Toys
"He's one small toy for one small boy, but his heart is oh, so blue" – 'One Toy Soldier', Enya
Dean used the remote to silence the motel room's TV and its overwhelming barrage of pre-Christmas advertising.
The stuff kids had today was incomprehensible. The only toys the Winchesters had were whatever some other poor child left behind, which never amounted to much more than a handful of Legos and a couple of cheap, green, plastic army guys.
John's gift ideas, if he remembered, rarely strayed beyond knives and guns. Even now, when he's stressed out, Dean likes to strip down his weapon and give it a good clean.
That joke just never gets old, he chuckled.
Yeah, happy times.
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A/N: Rowena's back with a vengeance and she's just realized she's a Sam-girl. 200 words. Season 11. Non-con.
Such Pretty Toys
"Such a pretty toy, such a pretty toy to play with" – 'Pretty Toy', Velvet Acid Christ (NSFW)
"Be a dear and fill me up," Rowena drawled, lazily holding out her empty champagne flute.
Dean instantly complied with a demure "Yes, mistress."
Obedience spells are such a hoot! she thought.
Her mood changed when Crowley slunk in through the throne room doors, closely followed by Sam.
"Fergus, I told you to turn up the heat, this is supposed to be Hell," she snapped.
"Yes, mother," sighed Crowley.
Rowena raised an eyebrow and her eyes flashed black in disapproval.
"Sorry, your majesty," he groveled.
"There's nae point them showing this much braw flesh if it's all goose pimpled," Rowena complained, slapping Dean's ass for emphasis. She tapped at her chin thoughtfully as she noticed first her son's longing glance, then Sam's well-oiled bulk.
"Do ye fancy doing swapsies? My wee boy toy for yours," she added, gesturing at the docile, ensorcelled brothers.
She repressed her smirk at how Crowley's eager agreement was clearly tinged with fear of some underlying trap. Her only ulterior motive was that she liked 'em big, plus it seemed prudent to keep Fergus off-balance and distracted.
Aye, she thought, leaning back and sipping her drink. Ye cannae keep a good, bad witch down for long.
(;,;)