Title: Something Like Longing (1/???)
Author: pleadyourcase/ourfilthyhands
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter.
Characters: Ruby/Dean, Sam
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. ;__; Especially not Supernatural or Sylvia Plath.
Summary: Fingers gripping the back of her head, he gently guided her face closer to his, lips brushing against her ear. “I could feel you in my dreams.” Emotion flickered across her face and she pulled away, astonished. Things weren’t supposed to go this far.

Originally posted here: http://community.livejournal.com/deanandruby/3294.html#cutid1

( I should have loved a thunderbird instead. )

Title: Control
Author: pleadyourcase/ourfilthyhands
Rating: PG
Pairing: Dean/Ruby
Summary: Just a short little drabble. I know I posted this in a community before, but I can't find it for the life of me! So, the title and everything has been changed. xD

( Her aura, her presence, her everything - radiating against his back, the familiar burning sensation creeping up his spine disk-by-disk. “Hey,” he says loudly, turning around. )

Title: No Right Mind Could Wrong Me This Many Times
Author: pleadyourcase/ourfilthyhands
Characters: Sam
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sam deals with Dean's prolonged absence in "Mystery Spot."

( He discarded any facial expressions that his muscles could contort, and scrubbed his vocabulary clean, casting away any words required for a conversation – he was a man of nods and grunts now. )

Title: Two Wrongs Making Out Alright
Author: pleadyourcase/ourfilthyhands
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Ruby
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. D:
Summary: Two poltergeists in San Diego, a tulpa in St. Paul, a shtriga in Little Rock. The days roll on like a marble speeding down a hill, bumps and bruises, too many losses to count –they miss their mark several times. Navy jackets, dirty jeans, calloused hands with a relentless death grip on the memories that he won’t let himself forget.

**Originally posted here: http://community.livejournal.com/deanandruby/2500.html#cutid1

( The screech of his tires pierces the night air, and even the dropping temperature stops to listen. )

Title: We Are God's Hands
Author: pleadyourcase/ourfilthyhands
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 657
Pairing: Ruby x Dean
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural and it's characters, nor do I own Jewel or her lyrics.

Summary: A small Dean/Ruby semi-song fic to Jewel's "Hands." I was kind of down when I wrote it. It's about thinking you've lost everything, only, in the midst of the chaos to realize you still have something. And by the way, I'm not sure where Sam is during this fic. I still haven't decided. ;)

Originally posted here: http://community.livejournal.com/deanandruby/1290.html#cutid1

( 'Cause where there's a man who has no voice, there ours shall go singing. )

Title: Until There's Nothing Left
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "She wanted to feel his chest against her own, to feel his breath on her neck, his fingers in her hair. She craved his touch the way children crave candy – sometimes it was too much for her to handle."
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. D:

***Originally posted here: http://community.livejournal.com/dean_jo/133952.html#cutid1

( He was a man of leather, knives, and aftershave, his reflection cast against the sleek, black hood of his car. )

Title: Cycles Are in the Shape of Circles
Rating: R, just to be safe. :]
Pairing: DeanxJo, obviously.
Summary: Starting as his temple, she drags her thumb down to his chin, where her fingers feel the familiar prickling sensation of his stumble brushing against them. “I love you,” she says. No whispers, no murmurs – her voice pierces the silence, and, as she had hoped, received no reply.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. D:

**Originally posted here: http://community.livejournal.com/dean_jo/136124.html#cutid1

( She was well aware of his nomadic tendencies – every month his leather jacket would show more signs of wear-and-tear. )

Title: The Best Deceptions [inspired by the song by Dashboard Confessional]
Pairing: Jo x Dean
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In a timeless rush, she can feel the days flying by, their trail dancing through her blonde hair, rustling her shirt. The once white, lacy window curtains are now dull and wrinkled, dirt gathering around the edges from when her fingers grasp the fabric, yanking it aside. She keeps hearing him.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. And I had a very angsty weekend.
Note: This was written for anyone who's ever been left feeling lonely. It's my dedication to anyone who has ever felt so completely alone, that it's almost too much to bear.

**Originally posted here: http://community.livejournal.com/dean_jo/136874.html#cutid1

( Wiping a moist cloth along the smooth, wooden surface of the bar, she can suddenly feel it. )

Hello everyone. :] Welcome to <lj user="pleadyourcase">'s writing journal! All of the pieces here will be supernatural fanfiction. ;] 

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