open post 2025

[impractical]

leave a starter or prompt; happy to plot first via pm or plurk.
muselist here.
spoilers and nsfw possible, will mark in tls.


wip list of tropes and stuff i pretty much always want to play:

• lotus-eater situation, aka "you're living your perfect life and don't realize it's killing you!"
• pining! you know the hand flex gif from p&p? of course you do
• vampires...
• misunderstandings between people who have feelings for each other, i.e. thinking one of them is interested in someone else and it comes to a head in heated admissions of Feelings
• slow burn over a psl
• ALL the h/c, whether one or two-sided
• fwiw some of my favorite bstreet memes are morning after, train to the afterlife, drunk meme, find them dying, and insomnia
• text is always going to be a yes from me dawg
• classics: only one bed, huddle for warmth
• amnesia???

 

Comments

[magike]

( her fingers curl around his when he turns their hands, squeezing gently in return.

rowena lets his words sink in, the seconds almost audible ticking past. she knows that she should still refuse despite his willingness, that this could irreperably alter their friendship-- but rowena trusts him, and she believes that he wouldn't let it.

slowly, she smiles, squeezing his hand again, before leading him from the room, keeping their hands linked )

Then we should get you comfortable.

( she leads him down the halls to her own room which, thanks to magic, is far more plush and comfortable than any other space in the bunker. she nudges him over to her couch, getting him to sit. rowena's aware that they could have done this anywhere, but even with samuel's consent, dean would have had an opinion about it )

I'll be gentle.

( her smile is softer, less sharp than in the kitchen, and rowena settles herself into his lap, nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt )

You can still say no, I wouldn't be offended.

[ofletters]

[ It's almost dream-like. Surreal. Sam is led from the kitchen without any protest, guided to her room and to the couch where he sits without a word. Distantly, his gaze wanders across the room; this isn't a new sight, as he's been in here enough times for other, much more mundane reasons, but the new context sends a little shiver up his spine.

Particularly when she sits on his lap. ]

...Trust me, I'm-...very comfortable. [ Both true and untrue. He's uncomfortable as hell because he knows the choice he's making is almost definitely a terrible idea, and also because...in addition to that, it's wildly sexy that Rowena is straddling him and going to bite is neck.

Dude. Seriously? He doesn't bother arguing with himself, though he does cast that conflicted gaze toward the door. ]

You might want to... [ Sam trails off. If Dean happens up this, the result will be a shit show, and they both know it. ]

[magike]

Dean wouldn't dare enter my room.

( she'd promised to hex him a long time ago it he ever entered it, something that dean had taken very seriously. but even so, there's a twist of her hand, and he'll hear the locking of the door, for samuel's security.

rowena's fingers stroke softly over his neck before her lips press to it, kissing him gently, letting him get used to her touch first.

when she pulls back, he'll feel a sharpness, her nail working over the skin, leaving a small cut. her tongue laps up the blood, a warm, pleased hum.

god, you taste fantastic, samuel )

[ofletters]

[ Sam gives her a weary look, eyes flitting to the doorway. ]

I'm not so sure. [ He says, rubbing the back of his neck. ] It surprises most people what Dean'd 'dare' to do.

[ Sam included. So he's relieved when she does, in fact, shut and lock the door, his shoulders sinking a little with the knowledge that...well, at least he'd have a minute to come up with an excuse, should his brother come knocking.

Why're you even doing this if you know it's wrong? The voice is his own, but he doesn't have an answer for it. Maybe he's just weaker than he thought (something previously thought impossible). Because Rowena's fingers, and then lips, at his neck elicit a little shiver, and it's easy to banish the doubting voice in his mind.

For now.

There's a small, sharp inhale as her nail slices a little into his skin, then a larger one as her tongue takes the blood. Heat rises in his cheeks as he desperately tries to hold himself together, though the whole thing feels like being swept down a river without anything more than the cheapest of inner tubes.

At least she's taking it slow, he thinks, having expected a full-on bite. But is this worse, in his long-term efforts to stay sane? ]

[magike]

( sane or-- rowena had warned him before they'd started that feeding from someone was intimate, and she can hardly fault anything else there, not when heat pools between her thighs also. this had been a line she'd told herself never to cross, but as much as she enjoys pairing sex with feeding, it's a stronger boundary she's holding with samuel.

she doesn't want to muddy their friendship irreparably, and this is already going to have to be something to navigate after.

her lips are bloodstained as rowena sits back up, unconsciously rocking over his hips, and her thumb brushes slowly over his jaw )

This will hurt-- at first. And then-- ( her cheeks are a little pinker, though whether that's arousal or bloodlust is harder to untangle. rowena leans back in, lapping the blood that had slowly trickled, humming softly against him ) You taste wonderful, Samuel.

( and it's why she can never drink from him again. there's power in his blood-- demon power, magic, and to someone without her control, it would be far too easy to drain him to taste it all. irresistible.

a second passes-- she presses a soft kiss over his neck again before he'll feel the points of her fangs against his skin. one more second-- two-- rowena sinks them quickly into him, letting the sharper pang of pain pass quickly, and blood fills her mouth as she drinks from him. pleasure floods her, filling her, and she moans.

it's over as quickly as it had begun. her mouth drips with blood as she leans back, her eyes closed, and as her fingers touch his neck, her magic heals the wound. from someone else, she would have drank for longer, from samuel-- well, she was polite, taking only what she needed to stave off the hunger until their work was complete.

she released a sigh, fondness in her expression as she looks at him, her hand cupping his cheek )

Thank you, my dove.