@broth3r: myĀ museĀ wiping/lickingĀ bloodĀ fromĀ yourĀ musesĀ lips.
another night, another dingy motel. the same stained walls, the same nicotine-yellow curtains they'd hidden behind a hundred times before. different town, same routine. their very own, addictive ritual.
a demon in his lap, and the same, familiar sting of that glistening edge splitting her surface open just enough to unveil the crimson beneath. it's desperate, the way sam holds onto that arm, fingers ironclad around wrist as he feeds from her. mouth hot and starving against wound ; licking, sucking, swallowing. tongue dragging over that fresh slit again, and again ā smearing dark poison across already ruined skin.
blood streaks the corners of his mouth. paints itself over lips and chin, beneath fingernails where his grip tightens every time he swallows. and when sam drags away, it's a reluctant departure. the wound in her wrist pulsating at the loss of it. chest rising hard. his eyes blown and storm-dark. mouth open. red, just about everywhere. she bites her lip.
' sam, ' ruby breathes, eyes locking. hands move to cup his face between palms. dangerously grounding ; making it feel too close to intimacy for either of them to admit. slowly, her thumb moves. sweeping steadily across his lower lip, smearing away the blood gathered there. warm and wet, red streaking across her own skin now. a sly upturn curving her mouth before lifting the thumb to her lips, tongue gliding over the stain as she tastes herself from him.
' there he is, ' demon murmurs when she's done, sliding digits through sam's hair to ruin the careful way he'd styled it that morning. brown strands tangling between fingers. damp at the temples. ' that's my boy. '












