In lieu of seventy two virgins, because I fear they are a myth.
Happy birthday coyotesuspect !!
You asked for either Sam/Dean (schmoop), Anna/Ruby, or Bela/Henriksen. I am very indecisive; therefore I closed my eyes and stabbed a page with a pencil twice instead of actually making a choice. The pencil chose my fate, which means you get:
a) love would shine through; schmoopy established Sam/Dean in a bed (200 words)
Sam fits the curve of Dean’s back perfectly, knees tucked into his and one octopus arm wrapped tight about his waist, clinging. He sighs softly as he sleeps, and the warmth of his breath teases at the nape of Dean’s neck, leaving him half-hard all night, his face pushed into the pillow. Trying not to wake Sam with his restless limbs, harsh breath.
He sleeps for a while, finally; drowsy and laden down with the heat between them, thin blanket scratching his cheek. When the sun creeps in it heats up his bare legs, Sam having stolen Dean’s half of the covers, like always. At least his back’s still warm.
When Sam wakes he presses Dean blindly down into the pillow, and swaps their morning breath; he strokes a hand down the tender skin of Dean’s ribs and nuzzles at the hinge of his jaw, snuffling. Sucks a slow kiss into his adam’s apple.
“Dean,” he murmurs, sweet and soft with sleep, and this is the best part of Dean’s morning, always. The naked stretch of Sam’s back, hot and smooth under his palms, and Sam’s eyes when they open to the light, whole face melting into Dean’s favorite smile.
and b) "things we do for love"; darkish Anna/Ruby AU poem (just go with it?) wherein Ruby is a human (87 words)
Anna picks her up from where she’s fallen.
She sears Ruby’s eyes with her light.
Presses a kiss to the hollow of Ruby’s throat,
and her wrists when they’re rebound tight.
Her knife is placed back on the highest white shelf.
A lick of blood, shining wet.
Anna hides with her under the covers,
her wings a familiar silhouette.
“I can make you feel better.”
Whispered into the curve of her nape.
“You can try,” Ruby’s says, holding on too tight,
and fills the void with Anna’s shape.
I know I promised fic, and actually, I started writing both an AU wherein Anna is a schizophrenic and Ruby is a junkie cutter, and another AU (a highschool one) for you; but both of them refused to form in the amount of time I was given. D: Damn stubborn fics.
Plus I was listening to The Things We Do For Love by Khin Myint, which is how that poem kinda came into being. (Sorry about that.)
Anyways! I hope you have a wonderful birthday and get loads of fabulous presents! Love, love, love from ME! And rest of the universe, obviously. *flutters away*
You asked for either Sam/Dean (schmoop), Anna/Ruby, or Bela/Henriksen. I am very indecisive; therefore I closed my eyes and stabbed a page with a pencil twice instead of actually making a choice. The pencil chose my fate, which means you get:
a) love would shine through; schmoopy established Sam/Dean in a bed (200 words)
Sam fits the curve of Dean’s back perfectly, knees tucked into his and one octopus arm wrapped tight about his waist, clinging. He sighs softly as he sleeps, and the warmth of his breath teases at the nape of Dean’s neck, leaving him half-hard all night, his face pushed into the pillow. Trying not to wake Sam with his restless limbs, harsh breath.
He sleeps for a while, finally; drowsy and laden down with the heat between them, thin blanket scratching his cheek. When the sun creeps in it heats up his bare legs, Sam having stolen Dean’s half of the covers, like always. At least his back’s still warm.
When Sam wakes he presses Dean blindly down into the pillow, and swaps their morning breath; he strokes a hand down the tender skin of Dean’s ribs and nuzzles at the hinge of his jaw, snuffling. Sucks a slow kiss into his adam’s apple.
“Dean,” he murmurs, sweet and soft with sleep, and this is the best part of Dean’s morning, always. The naked stretch of Sam’s back, hot and smooth under his palms, and Sam’s eyes when they open to the light, whole face melting into Dean’s favorite smile.
and b) "things we do for love"; darkish Anna/Ruby AU poem (just go with it?) wherein Ruby is a human (87 words)
Anna picks her up from where she’s fallen.
She sears Ruby’s eyes with her light.
Presses a kiss to the hollow of Ruby’s throat,
and her wrists when they’re rebound tight.
Her knife is placed back on the highest white shelf.
A lick of blood, shining wet.
Anna hides with her under the covers,
her wings a familiar silhouette.
“I can make you feel better.”
Whispered into the curve of her nape.
“You can try,” Ruby’s says, holding on too tight,
and fills the void with Anna’s shape.
I know I promised fic, and actually, I started writing both an AU wherein Anna is a schizophrenic and Ruby is a junkie cutter, and another AU (a highschool one) for you; but both of them refused to form in the amount of time I was given. D: Damn stubborn fics.
Plus I was listening to The Things We Do For Love by Khin Myint, which is how that poem kinda came into being. (Sorry about that.)
Anyways! I hope you have a wonderful birthday and get loads of fabulous presents! Love, love, love from ME! And rest of the universe, obviously. *flutters away*