Merakieros' art blog

Temptation, the sin of a father. Commissioned work

There is a second spicier version for this picture you can find in

“You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you.” Martin cups Malcolm’s face in his hands, brushing his hair from his forehead and stroking his cheeks. “I love you so much.”

Malcolm closes his eyes and presses his forehead to his fathers. Tears spill from his lashes and he kisses his father.

This time, it’s Martin who is caught off guard. Malcolm nearly laughs at the absurdity of it. Not from what they’re doing, or what they will do, but that the thing that undoes both the Whitly men are kisses. Read the whole story on AO3 “Silent In Sin” by KissingWinchesters

Collaboration I did for the SMPC Story on AO3

“But they’re brothers” 

This was a request for a patron

Feeling safe, patreon request for firesign10

“It’s not like he’s never touched Dean before, but this is different. This time he touches with intent, brushing his thumbs over Dean’s nipples so that Dean arches up, gasping.” Keep reading in AO3

Auction commission for soyem67 based on her steamy fic “Keeping the costume” 

Jared tends bar in a nowhere railroad town and has no memories older than a year. When strange men try to kill him he's rescued by a man he recognizes but doesn't know, a man who says his name is Jensen and claims they used to know each other. Jared leaves town with him, full of questions – who is Jensen? Why did he risk his life to save Jared's? Will Jared ever recover his memories? And most importantly, why do people want to kill him?  - “The Mechanisms Of Memory” by tsukinobara

The nsfw picture that tumblr cannot handle can be found in LJ and Twitter

Crowley strokes the soft, perfectly groomed feathers in his hand and smiles. 

“I am so good at that,” he says smugly.

“Modest too,” Aziraphale chuckles. 

When Crowley puts his hand on Aziraphales shoulder to stand up, Aziraphale turns and lifts his hand to stop him, threading his fingers into Crowley’s hair. Their lips press together softly and then part, and Crowley can only stare at the angel, wide eyes in shock.

“Thank you, dearest,” Aziraphale says quietly, and kisses Crowley again.

Part 1  

“You always get those really stubborn ones out, my dear.”

Aziraphale sips his cocoa and sighs happily, listening to Crowley’s little grunts and muttering while he grooms his wings.

“There’s one I can’t bloody get,” Crowley grumbles. “I’ll get it though.”

“Oh I know you will.” Aziraphale laughs softly. Crowley won’t give up on plucking a stubborn feather. It’s part of the reason Aziraphale always sits on a nice comfortable cushion and pours a nice cup of cocoa before they begin.

One by one the ruffled white feathers fall, catching and dancing on the air before finally resting.

Part 2

A few years back, Dean grabbed his brother and declared to the world, enough! They’d needed to take a breath, and thanks to an unexpected gift from their father, they were able to settle down, act like civilians, at least for a bit. And yeah, maybe Dean had screwed up a lot in the intervening years, but he hoped settling down in their home again, he could make it up to Sam. What the hell—let some younger, fresher guys handle the world and its problems.

Dean shoves his plate aside and spreads the paper out, flicking idly through the rest of the pages, and stops on the next-to-last page. "Huh. Maybe there is something to it." His turn to fold the paper up and pass it back to Sam.

PLAGUE OF BIBLICAL PROPORTIONS AT WELLS STATE PARK, the headline reads.