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whorediaries-09 · 4 months

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consume;

pairing- dark!sirius black x muggle!reader warning(s)- dark themes, 18+ content, cemeteries (?). (let me know if i should add more) a/n- this is probably the darkest shit i've written in a while. strap on your seatbelts, we're going on a ride!

ps- do not continue under cut if such topics make you uncomfortable.

the slut club

there's blood all in her nose from the propane but a needle to skin will make the pain fade

you felt hot tears staining your cheeks as the coffin of your boyfriend was lowered into the pit. you could remember how his body stiffened near you, falling onto the ground over the dry and crisp leaves. he went from laughing to a dead man on the floor. you could feel your heartbeat race as the dried soil covered the wood. the cold air bit your face, your tears drying on your face.

it wasn't a heart attack, but the doctors declared it as one. it was ridiculous, a perfectly healthy man who died so suddenly, without any diagnosed illness. in the pit of your heart, you knew it was a strange occurrence, but you couldn't do anything but accept it. your condolences were spoken in a haze, your mind wasn't truly there. you were drowned in a melancholy you couldn't escape. you were trapped in it.

you feel a squeeze on your shoulder. it was from his mother, her eyes held so much emotion, you couldn't decipher them.

'you should leave, it's cold out here.'

you nod. it was an endless endurance of pain. the cold air sued you. but the one you'd hug when you were cold was six feet under. you closed your eyes, as his friends and parents left one by one. you stood there your eardrums eerily attentive of the fading footsteps.

before you could react to a sudden sound behind you, a palm slapped over your mouth. it came with a rough push against your boyfriend's tombstone, as you were bent like pretzel. your brain took a moment to process what happened, and when the realization dawned upon you, you screamed against the warm palm.

'no one can hear you little bird,' a rogue voice replied. you felt the voice murmur something incoherent. you struggled against the grip, the sudden restriction as your body went rigid. suddenly it was like the tension was off your shoulders, as if you'd entered another dimension. it was as you'd forgotten about your sadness, as your hurt was drowned.

but you were out your own control.

'come on, go on your knees, pretty thing,'

you nod your head, your eyes empty as you turn around to face the speaker. he was a roguishly handsome man, with beautiful raven locks that fell down to his shoulders. his chiseled features complimented his storm like dark eyes, which seemed like dream you'd want to be lost in. under the lucent moonlit beam he looked even more enticing which made you break into fragments. your black dress rolled up your thighs as you spread your legs, sitting down on the ground. the crumpled leaves and the stones pricked through the skin, but it didn't matter. he looked like a devil sent by god, and hell you wanted to worship him. you needed to worship him.

his finger fiddled over the flimsy metal of his zipper, pulling it down. he thrust his fingers into your hair, pushing your head to his crotch. you sniffed him in, your tongue out of your mouth as he pushed his leg between your thighs. the cold leather of his shoes sent a chill down your spine, and your hands wandered over his pants, begging him to push them down.

'i can't do all the work, you gotta do something yoursel' too,'

his voice drove you crazy, like a maniac. you pulled down his pants, as the sole of his shoes wandered over your clit, exploring the wetness of your folds. you let out a small whimper as you freed his cock.

'come on, get your mouth to work now.' he encouraged. you opened your mouth, and he tapped the tip of his cock on your tongue. you spat on his cock, wrapping your lips around his cock. careful not to use your teeth, you sucked on his cock, glorifying his beautiful girth and length, indulging in the way his cock hit the back of your throat. tears wobbled in your waterline.

'you're so pretty with tears staining your face like that baby,' he cooed, thrusting your face closer. your nose teased his pubic hair, and you held your breath, careful not to gag. he was your god for tonight, and you were to worship him.

at least that's what your brain told you.

a/n 2 - might make a part two if i'm horny or people just want one. for better context ofc.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #marauders era #sirius black imagine #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you

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jegulus-microfic · 7 months

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Happy Halloween Jegulus fans, here are the prompts for October—all halloween themed! Feel free to make all your microfics this month follow the theme, or think outside the box with each prompt.

Still need September's prompts? Find them here.

You can find the rules here and the FAQs here.

As always, feel free to send any questions to the ask box!

Prompts are written out under the cut.

Cemetery

Lantern

Zombie

Scream

Eerie

Pumpkin

Moonlit

Vampire

Mist

Superstition

Ghost

Tomb

Party

Make Believe

Shock

Chilling

Trick

Treat

Scared

Haunted

Petrified

Dead

Shadow

Spirit

Mask

Bad Luck

Spooky

Prank

Blood

Frighten

Halloween

#october prompts #jegulus microfic #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #james x regulus #regulus x james #james potter #regulus black #hpevents #hp events #hp fests

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ruhachari · 8 months

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The Forgotten Legend of Unugai

Post written by Anar Turangi

Imagine yourself as a traveller in ancient times, riding your horse through the hushed darkness of a graveyard. As expected, the cemetery lies still and empty in the late night hours. Suddenly, your attention is drawn to an unexpected sight—a stray goat perched by a gravestone.

While you were pondering, the goat has already made eye contact with you. You would like to look away, but something draws your gaze to the goat. In a bizarre twist, the goat rises onto its hind legs, its hooves rapidly growing in size, elevating it almost to human height. Without hesitation, the transformed goat rushes at you, lightning-fast covering the distance between you. The roar of the frightened horse brought you out of your daze and you tried to run away from the demonic creature, but it was faster. With astonishing agility, the creature leaps onto your horse and clings onto you from behind. The horse immediately weakened under the influence of the new rider, and so did you. With each passing second you feel your strength leaving you, and your resistance is futile.

However, the first rays of sunlight glimmered on the horizon, and the creature's grip began to weaken quickly. The colossal goat swiftly dismounts the horse and vanishes from your sight in the blink of an eye.

Once you come to your senses, you make your way to the nearest village, hoping to uncover an explanation for the harrowing encounter. You recount your story to the village elders, known as ağsaqqallar, who listen attentively.

After careful consideration, the elders identify the demonic creature that assaulted you last night as Unugai. The elders express sympathy for your plight, explaining that the limp you acquired from the incident will be joined by a speech impediment. The duration of these afflictions remains uncertain, leaving you with an unsettling sense of uncertainty.

AI art concepts of Unugai

Unugai, also known as Unuqai in Azerbaijani folklore, is a captivating and enigmatic entity. Its original manifestation takes the form of a lone stray goat that seeks solace amidst the eerie stillness of moonlit cemeteries. In these sacred grounds, it lies in wait, patiently selecting its prey from the ranks of solitary travelers who dare to lock eyes with its otherworldly gaze.

With an unsettling intent, Unugai often seeks to ensnare its chosen victim in an eerie embrace, a chilling touch that inflicts torment and sends shivers down the spine. The aftermath of such a sinister encounter often leaves the unfortunate traveler plagued by sickness, an affliction that manifests as an unsettling limp and an unsettling stutter.

As tales of Unugai weave through the tapestry of legends, whispers of its vulnerabilities emerge. The creature is rumored to cower in fear at the sight of iron needles and pins, particularly when aimed at its most vulnerable points—the fragile junctures where a well-placed needle can pierce the neck or the lumbar vein.

In more diabolical incarnations, Unugai preys upon pregnant women, luring them to the eerie embrace of the cemetery, where it snatches their unborn offspring for a gruesome feast.

The sunlit sanctuary Unugai retreats to during daylight remains an unsolved mystery. One can only speculate that it may visit its maternal figure, Al-Ana, a progenitor of various dark entities in Turkic myths.

Much like its mother, Unugai possesses the uncanny ability to ride a horse. However, this dread-inspiring talent casts a shadow of terror and suffering wherever it roams.

Mentions of Unugai were found mainly in the Sheki region of Azerbaijan, where tales of his ominous presence were once deeply rooted in local folklore. Yet, the passage of centuries, marked by the influence of Islamic beliefs, has nearly erased Unugai from the collective consciousness. Nowadays, the mere mention of cemeteries at night sends chills down the spines of children, who, in their fear, cry out not "Unugai!" but rather "jin," invoking the spirits of Islamic legend.

Intriguingly, archaeological discoveries in present-day Azerbaijan have unveiled enigmatic, smiling idols, thought to have been placed in cemeteries by the ancient tribes of Caucasian Albania. Their purpose remains shrouded in mystery, but a tantalizing connection emerges when exploring the legend of Unugai and its transformation into the genie narrative. It beckons us to consider that in bygone eras, similar legends may have pervaded these lands, and people, through the guardianship of idols, sought to shield their sacred resting places from malevolent forces.

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mysterious-secret-garden · 8 months

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Philippe Jacques de Loutherbourg - A Philosopher in a Moonlit Churchyard.

#Philippe Jacques de Loutherbourg #A Philosopher in a Moonlit Churchyard #alone #Churchyard #cemetery #tomb #dead #death

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thephilosopheroftheboudoir · 9 months

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PAUL REUBENS WAS AN HONORARY PUNK

My earliest memory of Paul Reubens was his role in Cheech and Chong’s Nice Dreams where he played a coke dealer. Cheech and Chong give him all their money to buy some toot but Pee Wee disappears. They track him down, only to find he is a patient at a psychiatric hospital and they have to wander through a crowd of lunatics only to find that he is mentally too far gone to tell them what he did with their money. If you watch any DVD’s of this movie that were made after 1988, you will notice this scene has been permanently deleted.

So a few later, I was getting involved with the small but growing hardcore punk scene in my city. Pee Wee’s Big Adventure was released in the theaters around then. It was an instant success and I went to see it three times. By the second and third viewing I started to recognize that more and more audience members were people I knew from the punk scene.

Many of us in the counter-culture loved Pee Wee. For one thing, many of us rode bicycles. It was our second favorite form of transportation behind skateboards since most people we knew couldn’t afford cars back then. City buses were still the primary method of movement in a dark city where wind, rain, and snow were the norm. But when the sun came out, we rode around in packs on our bikes. Any time there was a show, you could see them chained up by the dozens somewhere near the venue. They were our vehicles out of our world. We rode them in the moonlit cemeteries. They were safer than public transport when we went off to buy drugs. Sometimes we rode out to the suburbs to go pool hopping; that meant skinny-dipping, uninvited of course, in people’s back yards while they slept comfortably in their beds. That stunt ended one night when some guy fired a shotgun at us from his bedroom window.

Being the city kids that we were, we got used to our bicycles disappearing. It was always the same. No matter what kind of lock we used, somebody from the deep inner city used their ingenuity to find some way to pick the lock or cut the chain and they always left a beat up old bike in its place, the kind of rickety thing that looked like it had been stripped of all its parts, beat down and battered to the point where some kid knew if he didn’t ride it one last time out to the edge of the city to steal a better one, he would be bikeless for a long time to come.

When Pee Wee Herman’s bike got stolen, it resonated with us punks like nothing else ever could.

Pee Wee was one of us. It wasn’t just that his bicycle got pinched in Pee Wee’s big Adventure, he was also an inherently subversive character. He lived in some nether-world where he was not quite a child but not quite a man. His friends were all unapologetically freaks and weirdos, some of which were of other races and some of which even had mohawks. When his bike got stolen, he lost his soul. It was a hero’s journey through the underworld of America, the story of a man who knew when he found that one missing piece all the magic would return to his life. Punks were often people who felt that same absence, When we spiked our hair, ripped out clothes, donned combat boots or Chuck Taylors, drove pins through our noses, and sliced up our arms with razors, we were embarking on our own journey through the underbelly of the world, one that involved drugs, alcohol, slam dancing, record collecting, and sex between cars in restaurant parking lots. If you ever wonder why your car door handle is sticky, I can tell you there is a sickly humorous reason for that. Sometimes we spent nights in jail and had fist fights on street corners with conservatives who didn’t approve of our way of living free in a supposedly free society. If you think the MAGA crowd is anything new, you are wrong; these Republican maggots started crawling out of the rotten woodwork all the way back in the 1980s. But our bikes were like magic carpets that, at times, could transport us to some place better.

It gets deeper than a stolen bike though. As punks we called ourselves anarchists. However wrongheaded and naive that might have been, it’s what we thought we were and we hated the establishment. Pee Wee’s bike was stolen by Francis, a perfect symbol of capitalist greed. Francis was an immature, trust-fund baby and a bully who could use his dorky father’s money to get anything he wanted. What he wanted was Pee Wee’s bike so he payed some 1950s rocker with a greasy DA and a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the short sleeve of his undershirt to steal it. In the end, Francis didn’t really want the bike. What he really wanted was for Pee Wee NOT to have the bike. See, the bicycle is the one thing that made Pee Wee Herman happy and happiness was what Francis coul not have because, true to the nature of a capitalist pig, he always wants more than what he has. He dealt with his misery by making others miserable and so the bike got stolen and sent away. Pee Wee’s jounrey to find it began there. If there ever was a prototype of Rush Limbaugh, Francis was it. This movie came out four years into the Reagan administration so it doesn’t surprise me that it sticks a finger in the eye of Republican party economics. Seeing Francis get his come-uppance made us cream in our jeans.

Along the way to Hollywood via the Alamo, Pee Wee Herman made friends with a whole cast of characters and all of them were outsiders. He hitched a ride with an escaped convict, for instance, and together they outsmarted the police. ACAB. He shared an intimate moment with a waitress who dreamed of escaping from her marriage to a redneck and flying off to Paris the way Dorothy dreams about some where over the rainbow in the colorful land of Oz. (Try watching Pee Wee’s Big Adventure and The Wizard of Oz back to back and notice all the parallels). Pee Wee also got inducted into an outlaw motorcycle club.

Pee Wee even makes friends with a homeless man while train hopping, something us punks could relate to as well. We liked hanging out with the bums in our city. One of them used to shoplift porn magazines and sell them to us at discount prices so he could buy bottles of Thunderbird or Mad Dog. That’s the kind of $3 rotgut that will fuck you up even worse than a 40 oz. malt liquor. While no two bottles of Mad Dog ever taste the same, the flavor approximates some unholy combination of cough syrup, vomit, and rubbing alcohol. Some say that at higher quantities of consumption it can even be hallucinogenic. And then there was also an African-American guy with blue eyes named Ulysses; we used to drink Bully Hill with him in the alleyways and he was one of the most kind-hearted and humorous men we’ve ever met. We’d buy him food just to hear the stories he’d tell. Then one day I saw him well-dressed and selling newspapers on a street corner. The headlines said something about UFO’s coming to save Black people from white America. Ulysses had joined the Nation of Islam. Oh well, at least he is now sober and off the streets. I wish you the best, Ulysses.

And punks always loved animals. We loved our dogs. We loved our cats. Some of us kept rats, iguanas, and snakes as pets. So speaking of snakes, what did Pee Wee do when he saw the pet shop burning? He rescued all the animals and in the end he even rescued the snakes even though he obviously didn’t like them. Punks were the snakes of American society and Pee Wee was on our side.

Finally, what could be more punk than sticking your middle finger in the face of the Hollywood establishment? Pee Wee’s bike ends up as a prop in a Hollywood movie. He snatched it and rode away, wrecking movie sets as he went. Instead of arresting him, they decide to make a movie based on his life. But look at the movie they made. It is a pretentious, no-brain blockbuster with perfect looking actors that bear no resemblance to the real life events that inspired it. The movie uses postmodern framing by using the medium to critique the fake and shallow medium of the Hollywood film industry.

Then there is one final question. Who was Pee Wee’s family? Did he have any parents? How old was he anyways? Punks were part of the latchkey kid generation. We either grew up in a one-parent home or else both our parents were absent from our lives because it took two working adults to support a family with children. As teenagers we ran free and encountered the adult world at a very early age. Pee Wee Herman appeared to have no role models in his life and had to find his own way around. That was what hardcore punk was all about. We couldn’t fix the world’s problems so we created our own scene and did things our own way. FTW (fuck the world). If you didn’t like us you had best stay away.

Pee Wee’s Big Adventure become one of those movies you can watch over and over again without getting bored, making frequent appearances at cult classic film festivals, revival theaters, and occasional TV reruns. There were many times we watched it through the bleary haze of bong smoke and blurred whisky vision, maybe while coming down from an acid trip or two or three. It is like an old familiar friend that is always happy to see you for the sake of sharing old memories and telling half-forgotten jokes.

Pee Wee Herman’s next move as an honorary punk came in the late 1980s when his television show Pee Wee’s Playhouse went on the air. The Residents played the theme song. How cool was that for underground music fans? Although it was meant for kids, some of the jokes were a little bit naughty. Pee Wee and the genie’s head in a box sang a song about hiney-holes and a female dancer lifted one leg in the air while standing on the toes of her other foot and Pee Wee took a peak up her skirt, only to be given a reprimanding look from the dancer when she saw what he was up to.

A couple years later the big bombshell hit the news. Paul Reubens had been caught masturbating in an adult movie theater in Florida. My immediate reaction was not, “Oh my god, what a pervert.” Actually I was just shocked that they still had adult movie theaters in Florida while they had gone the way of the dodo bird everywhere else. Hadn’t people there ever heard of VCR’s? Florida must be a pretty fucked up place, I thought. I still think so to this day. The fact that Pee Wee played with himself in the porno playhouse never really phased me though I still wonder why it is a crime to whip it out while in a darkened theater, watching movies of people fucking. America sure does have some stupid laws. Don’t even get me going on the legality of drinking alcohol like how dumb it is to make the drinking age 21 thanks to that asshole Ronald Reagan or why we are obsessed with hating drunk driving while so few bars are within walking distance of people’s homes. Europeans sorted these kinds of things out centuries ago. It is like the government wants us to get caught screwing up. Rich capitalist pigs like Francis are getting their miserable way at our expense.

Soon after the arrest of Paul Reubens, I went to a punk show at a bar. The singer of the band called out, “I don’t know how many of you heard, but Pee Wee Herman got arrested for jerking off in a porn theater. How many of you hate him more know that you know this?” About half the audience cheered. Then he asked “How many of you love him more now?” Again, about half the audience cheered. Oh yeah, we loved him even more because his mugshot made him look like a Hells Angel. The biggest audible difference between the first and second cheers was that the former was mostly women and the latter was mostly men. By 1991, the mean-girl Andrea Dworkin style of anti-porn feminism had infected the punk scene like an STD. If you think polarization in America is a Trump-era phenomenon, guess again. It just seems that way because internet pundits and the media keep drawing our attention to it even though the hate has always been there.

Just a few years ago, I heard an interview with Paul Reubens on NPR. They asked the question of what message he wanted to send to the world. His answer, and I paraphrase, was “It’s OK to be different. You don’t have to be like everybody else.” It’s so simple, so true, and so sad that so few people understand what this means. And it's so "punk-is-an-attitude" up your fucking ass.

Good bye Paul Reubens and thank you for the memories. Thank you for the wisdom you shared. Thank you for being an inspiration, an idol and an icon for those of us who follow Jimi Hendrix’s advice and wave our freak flags high. You are forever an honorary member of the hardcore punk community.

#paul reubens #pee wee herman #punk #writing #obituaries #hardcore punk

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1-800-local-slut · 9 months

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Dean and Sam x Black Goth Reader

I was rewatching Interview with a Vampire. This was born then I passed out and finished writing it this morning. I hope you enjoy!

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Dean and Sam with a gothic reader who lives in the bunker, isn’t a hunter and does research. She's into dark literature, loves the night, cats, poison, flowers and all that stuff. She's also super smart. She loves death, and dead people and works at a super old and cool bookstore.

Warnings: implied smut, stabbings, nothing else really

Dean

Dean would have mixed feelings on this but ultimately love this

Thought you were a witch for a solid few seconds

Can you blame him? The cross necklace, solid black dress that hugged your curves and stopped at your thighs, the matching corset tied around your waist, the spider web stockings that he admired through the slit on your dress, the butterfly sleeves around your arms, the pentacle on your black chunky heels. Totally witchy.

Not to mention how beautiful you were, he didn’t think the looks were natural

He was enamored by your faux locs

You guys met when he was on a case thankfully in Kansas, and had to go to the bookstore you work

Thought you were sexy in a dark way

Was trying to figure out if you were punk or emo for a few seconds

You had to go ask him if you could help him with something

You noticed him staring and tried to get your coworker to take him and she magically had to call her babysitter so you had to go talk to him

“Welcome to the Afterlife Athenaeum, how can I help you today?”

His ears melted when he heard your voice

You remind him of Morticia Addams

Had a childhood crush on Morticia Addams

He reminded you of a gas station attendant

He’d ask for something completely unrelated so he can he can keep hearing you talk

Listened to you talk to him about Gothic Architecture for five minutes, not having a clue what you were going on about

Got a book about funeral rites.

You told him that was a personal favorite and also threw in a book on embalming

Went back to the bunker with the books he needed and from there kept going back to the shop

Asks stupid questions to hear you talk

You two begun an unlikely friendship

He would make loud noises and disturb you unintentionally, you would glare at him with a reminder to stay quiet in the shop

Would follow you around watering the plants in the store while you closed

Swapping earbuds, and Dean being jumpscared by Shout At The Devil

He was honestly shocked, you just seem so serene and calm and reserved all the time and he was ready to hear a loud violin

When you found out he was a hunter, he was worried you’d run and call the police after seeing him stab a ‘man’ in the neck but then you saw it literally fizzle and pop

And he was right, you ran.

Straight into his arms

You convinced him to let you take him to get dinner and tell you all about it

You listened with wide eyes about everything, understood why he would often ask for books on symbolism of different things, mythological creatures, but when you asked if he’s been a hunter basically all his life how come he didn’t have any books of his own.

Did not have an answer for that

He developed a crush on you after you didn’t run away

Scared to make moves

But not too scared, cuz it’s Dean

Makes corny jokes

“Are you a grave? Cuz I wanna be buried in you.”

“Dean, stop.” but you’re trying not to laugh because it’s dumb

“Are you a witch? Cuz I’m under your spell.”

“Dean.” your lips are pursed to restrain yourself

“How about for our first date we go to the cemetery and have a grave time? I’m just dying to meet you there.”

You laughed and Dean proudly smiled, wandered out the door of the cafe you guys usually meet with for some reason and didn’t come back

Eventually, you developed a crush on him as well

Confesses to you on a moonlit walk

From there you two start dating

You guys went as Johnny and Mavis for Halloween one year

He likes when you kiss him and it leaves a black stain

Likes to help you pick out clothes and always jokes about burying you in them

Compares you to the goth kids from South Park

Watching Scooby Doo together

Convinced you to be Velma for Halloween, and when he saw you in the costume his brain rewired seeing you in it

You didn't even get to take the costume off yourself, he did it for you

Doesn’t really like reading with you but he likes watching you read and get super focused on whatever piece of literature it is

Loves watching horror movies with you

Matching jewelry

He wears a different version of your cross necklace

Late night drives (doesn’t like you going outside at night but he can’t stop you)

Gets along with your cat but they fight for your attention like crazy

Likes to water the plants around your apartment

Doesn’t want to ask you for help on a hunt, would like to keep you far away from it but your persistence wears him down

He wants you to leave lipstick stains on his abs and dick (and you do)

Loves picking out your lipstick

Let’s you put eyeliner on him

Got you little bat clips to put in your afro and likes to see you use them

Loves when you put hair products into different containers and label them and likes to help (it’s just fun)

He likes to run around in your boots sometimes even though his feet don’t fully fit

Got jumpscared when he saw you in the bunker one morning and called you a Victorian ghost child

When you asked to start a garden he didn’t see the point but you eventually got what you wanted

You torture him in the best way

Gets you black roses instead of red ones

He loves your dresses and fishnets, he honestly falls apart over them

Loves seeing you get along with Sam, calls you both nerds

Cooks for the two of you

One night you told him you thought a pet bat would be cool and he went stiff and made you swear up and down to never mention it again

Likes seeing your stuff around his room, and doing laundry and finding your black bras and clothes

Loves how understanding you are about his job and the supernatural

Your really helpful sometimes

Like he’ll tell you about something completely random and you’ll give him a full story explaining the origins of it in a morgue in Peru or something

Makes fun of you and says you shop at Hot Topic

He likes to put things up high for you so you have to either climb something and he can see your ass move or you have to ask him for help

All in all Dean would love his goth gf and all her oddities

Sam

Sam wouldn’t really care

He too thought you were a witch when he first saw you

He was on an early morning run, and ran into a coffee shop to get a water

Saw you sitting there, dressed in all black in a corset dress with a choker around your neck and a tiny pentagram hanging from it and rose fishnet stockings

He loved your jewelry immediately, the silver accessories and rings that adorned your tiny fingers

He also loved your dark lipstick

You had your ear plugs plugged in, reading a book in Latin with your curly hair shining in the lights of the Sun through the window and a woman knowing Latin made his dick hard

Minding your own black business really

Sam went on about his day, went back to the bunker, showered up and talked to Dean about a case in New Mexico

Had to find some more information, reading the news articles, he saw there were flowers left at the scene of the crime

But he couldn’t find this one flower in any of his books so he went to a bookstore he had seen before in town, called Afterlife Athenaeum. He went at night due to a day full of scouring the internet and books to come up empty

And guess who he spotted? You

Now he didn’t pay much attention to you at first, in fact he didn’t recognize you at first because now you were in a different yet alluring outfit

You were just stocking books, but you were too short too reach up and get something on the top shelf and your cunt of a manager put the stool somewhere you couldn’t find

You were jumping and Sam thought you looked like a jumping spider and your boots made a loud noise through the empty bookstore when your shoes hit the ground

Looking around you saw a big ass white man and decided to try your luck

“Excuse me? I’m sorry to bother you but could you grab that book for me?”

Tall, sexy, and helpful, you were ready to jump into his arms and escape with him.

He gave you a charming smile and handed you the book which just so happened to be a book on the language of flowers. He looked it over with a pleased hum. “Oh I actually need this.” He stole a glance at your name tag and you smiled in delight. Despite dressing like you just left a funeral you were seemingly cheerful. “Perfect! It’s our last one too, I’ll ring you up. Is there anything else you need?” You asked, taking the book from his large hands. “No thank you.”

When you rang him up his eyes stuck to your silver cross necklace that he had a hunch was just for fashion

You noticed him staring, and you decide to make moves

(I have a feeling Sam enjoys being seduced, follow me on this)

“New in town?” he automatically falls in love with your voice. You ask while looking down at the book, and checking the catalog for the title and the price. “No, just giving this place a try.” Sam kept stealing glances at you. You were just doing your regular work and he was entranced. “Well I hope to see you again, we don’t get a lot of handsome customers” you said slyly, while handing him the bag with two fancy capital A’s on it.

And there’s a look between you too, and he left knowing he’d be coming back definitely

Came back two weeks later and looked for you. He asked a question on poisons and watched your eyes literally light up. He then listens to your info dump on plants and buys three of your recommendations

Eventually you two become friends, sharing music, CD’s, story recommendations and more

You find out he’s a hunter when you’re visiting a relatives grave one night and you watch him kill a shapeshifter

Your jaw dropped, immediately began to quietly pack up and escape before you caught a stray. He saw you out of the corner of his eye and grabbed you while you ran, and the way he grabbed you made you get a lil excited. He explains everything to you, given it was that or you call the police . After he explained that he wasn’t a murderer, and explained the supernatural was real you exploded and listened to literally everything with such investment

Just adorable

After that, you two got a bit closer (nothing too crazy). He kept you a bit of a secret for a while

Needed help decoding a message left at a crime scene and went to your apartment. You made him some tea, he looked around your cozy apartment and learned you had a cat who immediately loved him

You sat down on the recliner, he took the couch right in front of your coffee table and you sat down on the arm of the couch to show him something. His eyes glued onto your thighs in your silk black shorts and matching top. He was imagining taking your matching robe off the moment he came inside

You noticed because you were staring at his dick through his pants since he came inside and he was hard like immediately and you decide to take your shot

“Sam?” You began while shutting your book and placing your elbow on the back of the couch. Your eyes were basically burning through him. “Yeah?” He was trying to focus on his laptop but couldn’t. “If you were a flower, you’d be an orchid.” You were now fidgeting with one of your black nails. He immediately got the hint, it was in the book you showed him “Really?” He flirted back with his eyes. “Oh yes, the orchid is a very alluring plant.” You continued and then moved your brown eyes to his.

The rest was history from there

After that night he was deeper under your spell

Likes to watch Phantom of the Opera with you

Dirty talks in Latin

You guys talk shit about people in Latin

“Asinus officium spectat terribilis.” (Her ass job looks terrible)

“Quod est medium infantem.” (That's mean baby)

He likes to fidget with your nails

He hates Halloween but you love it much to his dismay

Agreed to go as Morticia and Gomez one year and almost lost his mind seeing you in the dress

You didn’t make it out the house

He likes seeing you not dressed as fancy but casually in one of his big ass t-shirts and just walking around

First night you stayed at the bunker he was amazed by how your energy just changed the entire room

Likes hearing you speak different languages

He tells you all the time you remind him of the moon

Loves loves loves seeing you dressed casually to the point where it’s an obsession

But he loves your fancy clothes as much as your casual t-shirts and tank tops you wear on laundry days

He likes when your in the library of the bunker trying to get a book down and you can’t reach it

He loves your plants

He enjoys seeing the different dark shades of purples, blacks and more

But he likes how you love all of the plants even the ones that are a bright red or yellow

He loves your perfumes

Accompanies you everywhere at night, and loves the way the moonlight reflects off your brown skin

He loves when you put lip gloss on over your lipstick and kiss him

He buys your bonnets and anything else in a color he sees you commonly wear

A black mirror, a black head scarf, a black bandanna, silver charms for your braids when you get your hair done, black lip liner

Told you about Jess, and you listened with such kindness and respect his heart swelled

You told him about your beliefs that the dead should be treated with respect

still listens to your info dumps (I’m telling you he will never get sick of your info dumps, you could be explaining the history of toast to him and he’d still be happy)

He likes that when you bruise, it’s a purplish red color so when he bites you or holds your hips too tight he takes deep satisfaction in knowing the next day there’ll be purple and dark hand marks around your hips.

Doesn’t want you hunting but knows you’re incredibly curious

Came to a conclusion that if he kept you in the loop about what he was hunting it would work out best for him, plus you’d be a great help

He’s partially convinced you know everything relating to death, human sacrifices, embalming methods, which works great for him

He spends a lot of time with Dean looking at dead people and symbols he barely understands and if he can just send you a picture and in two minutes you can tell him exactly what it is the sooner he can kill it and go home

Dean calls you guys Dr. Frankenstien and his bride (Frankenstein was the DOCTOR not the monster I refuse to have incorrect terminology here)

You and Dean have an unlikely friendship, and you ended up learning Dean is a big fan of gothic romance

You guys watch horror movies together, and argue over which Purge movie was better (the answer is Election Year)

Sam just thinks you're cool, overall doesn’t really think too much about your fashion or interest. He just likes you and the fact that your sexy and smart is a huge bonus

Let me know what you guys think! I loved writing this and I loved rewatching interview with a vampire. Gothic stuff will always have a special place in my little black heart, and I like putting little nods to it in a lot of my writing. Anyways, that's all! Please enjoy <333

#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural dean #supernatural #supernatural x reader #sam and dean #black reader #i loved writing this #take this as you will #pls enjoy #they make my heart happy #like it's not even funny #dean x reader #sam x reader #implied smut

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