#@b3autyfuldisast3r

[cockslutpadalecki]

Once you are given this award, you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out!😘💛

thank you shawnah 🥹 right back at you babe! 💖

[deanwithscissors]

Sending love and hugs your way, sweetie ❤️😘 I love you dearly, AJ and you matter. So much!!

tysm🥹💜💜💜

[impala-dreamer]

Comfort Treats

Dean Winchester x Reader

Pain/Period Comfort Drabble - 512 Words - Fluff

The blanket is warm but it's not enough. Burying yourself in pillows and curling inwards isn't really doing it either. There's real pain tonight. The kind of pain that radiates through your body and into every fiber of your being. It's so bad that your hands are shaking and breathing is difficult. It's the kind of pain that makes you dizzy, makes it hard to stand.

Doubled over isn't an accurate description. It would be better to say that your core is a black hole slowly sucking your bones in, yanking at your muscles until you're nothing but a ball on the sofa, a whimpering, aggravated, hormonal ball.

He doesn't turn on the light when he comes in and you're grateful for the continued darkness. Dean shuffles in with a paper grocery bag in his arm. He perches on the edge of the sofa by your knees and starts unpacking.

"Feelin' any better?" he asks, voice just above a whisper.

A pathetic 'no' rolls off your tongue and you unwind enough to turn and see what he's up to.

"What is all that?"

Green eyes flash your way and a soft smile lifts his lips. "Presents."

Your heart swells. "For me?" 

He chuckles. "Duh." Digging into the bag, he pulls out one rattling bottle after another. "Extra strength Advil and Tylenol. I can never remember which does what, so you got both. Oh, and Aleve and Midol." The bottles line up on the coffee table like toy soldiers. "Also Takis if you're feeling spicy… Fritos because they're salty…" The chips sag behind the pills. "Hershey bars for chocolate, sour worms for… well, sour… ice cream for your soul… and some Jerky. For me."

His wink is all you really need, and his thoughtfulness soothes a massive cramp.

Sitting up, you reach for him, grabbing up a fistful of gray flannel. "You are the sweetest man in the entire world, you know that?"

He blushes a bit and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. "I don't know about that… just thought you could use some treats."

"No," you tell him firmly, tugging him down to you. "You are the most incredible, kind, wonderfully sweet man in the entire world."

He falls down over you, careful to hold himself up and not crush you too badly. "What about ruggedly handsome and undeniably sexy?"

"Well…" Pushing up, you nudge at his lips with your own. "Those too. But mostly just a big old softee."

Dean laughs and helps you roll onto your side so he can lie behind you and cuddle close. "Fine, but don't go telling everyone how sweet I am. I got a reputation to uphold." 

The heat of him, the heaviness of his arm around your middle does more to comfort you than any snacks ever could. You sink back against him and close your eyes, finally close to feeling better.

"Your secret's safe with me, Dean…" 

"Good deal." He drops his lips to your cheek and smiles. "Now pass me those sour gummies. I feel some cramps coming on too…"

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works  

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[jawritter]

Carry On Masterlist

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Warnings: Heavy, HEAVY TW: Dean’s final episode of SPN. (Season 15x20 spoilers). Graphic injury. Me botching medical jargon, A lot of pain, blood, and hospital type atmosphere. Injured Dean Winchester. Depression. PTSD. Angst. Some fluff. Eventual Smut. (Each chapter will be warned and have their own warnings to the best of my abilities.)

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic! 

A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67 Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

My Mastlist

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29 (Final)

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[saiyanprincessswanie]

Sneak Peek - Caution

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1655

Summary: You and Bucky were online shopping and stumbled upon funny underwear. Without the other knowing you each purchase a pair. How will you each react to the silliness?

Warnings: Fluff, silliness, (s)mut, (o)ral (F & M), Daddy (K)ink

A/N: This is just a silly fic I wrote do to the photo above that Amazon advertised on my FB page lol.

You were on the couch surfing around Amazon when you found something that caught your eye. You lightly chuckled to yourself but Bucky who was on his laptop stopped working.

“What are you laughing at pretty girl?” Bucky's voice was deep and had a hint of amusement behind it.

“Oh nothing, just found something amusing online.” You clicked “buy now” and thanks to Prime it was going to arrive the next day. “What are you up to? Almost done with work?”

Bucky’s face heated up in what looked to be embarrassment as he did a couple of clicks and slammed his laptop closed. “Oh yeah, I’m all done now.”

“Care to share what made you all red? Looking at something sexy?”

“On the computer? Don’t be like that, I have exactly what I want. She is sexy, smart, funny, beautiful, and all mine.”

Bucky got up from the table and slowly stalked over to you. You set your laptop on the coffee table as he dropped onto the couch caging you in.

“Let’s say we take this in the bedroom and I show you how sexy you are.” Bucky huskily spoke in your ear before sitting up and pulling you with him. He tossed you over his shoulder and carried you to bed.

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[deansraspberrypie]

Aww! Shawnah, Happy Valentine's Day to you, my lovely 🤗💝🥰🫶😘

Tagging: @mvdeanw @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @undisputedchick @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @deanwinchesterswitch @snowlovespie @wickedinspirations @lanawinchester-author @kazsrm67 @jranutter @myloversgone 💕💕💕

[princessmisery666]

Coin Toss

Bingo:@jacklesversebingo Prompt: Coin Toss 

A/N: the muses are AWOL but I liked this little idea so ran with it and made the title card. 

Images: Canva and Entertainment Weekly.

You and Dean can't decide where to go during some rare downtime. Vegas is good for hustling people and mindless entertainment. Or there's the cabin; secluded, cozy and far enough away from the real world you can pretend it doesn't exist for a while.

Regardless of where you go, Dean is driving and picking the music, obviously. 

Dean flips the coin, you call out heads for the cabin. Honestly, he doesn't care where you go, as long as he's with you, tucked up under his arm while he drives, feeding him snacks, stealing kisses when the road permits, he'll happily go anywhere with you.

Master Lists: Main / Dean Winchester / JAcklesVerse Bingo

Tags below the cut:

@alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Madness

Summary: Dean wants EVERYONE to know that you belong to him.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Smut. Smut. All smut. Rough sex. Public sex. Brief, slightly degrading talk, Unprotected P in V sex, voyeurism mentioned, breeding kink if you REALLY squint, possessive!dean.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

A/N: I saw this tiny post from @b3autyfuldisast3r and immediately this smutty little idea came into my head, (even though, I changed the idea a bit) So I thought I'd share my depravity with all of you. 😁 I wrote this quick, so there may be lots of mistakes. Sorry!

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @talesmaniac89

Masterlist || Tag Lists

It's madness. Throbbing, pulsing, slick and dripping madness.

The glass is cold against your bare skin, you know people can see you; you're in plain view. Height doesn't hide you - you're in a ground level room. Darkness doesn't cloak you - the yellow glow from the light in your room burns bright, and easily illuminates your writhing, shuddering body to the parking lot and street beyond.

The curtains offer no protection, spread wide on either side of you, and you know he's beckoning the world forward to watch him consume you, destroy you. Dean wants them to see how he owns you, wants them to watch him shatter you into molecules of pure bliss.

He's stripped you completely naked, while he stays in his jeans and t-shirt. He's not the focus of attention. He doesn't want them to see him. He only wants them to watch you - to see what he owns, to be jealous of his prize.

The glass presses at your back and you can feel the eyes on you. You know you should feel ashamed, embarrassed, but you don't. You can't. There's no room left in your body for anything but burning, pulsating pleasure.

He pushes you harder against the window as his head dips to pull your nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard, biting it, marking you. His hand is buried in your cunt, slamming all four fingers deep inside you over and over, forcing your heated screams to echo through the thin single pane of glass and out to the people listening and watching, rapt and rabid.

"Please…" You whisper through a hoarse throat. "Dean, please. I need to come."

Dean shakes his head. "Not yet, baby." He orders you, even as all four fingers press hard against the spongy spot deep inside you, making you scream again and squeeze your thighs tight around his hand.

"We're gonna put on a proper show for these people first."

With that, he whips you around so your heaving, sweat-slicked body is facing out towards the group that's gathered a little ways from your room. You don't know who they are, other guests? Truckers parked in the lot overnight? With the light behind you and all of them out in the dark, you can only make out vague shapes, but they can see every line of you.

When Dean enters you abruptly, slamming himself home in one hard thrust, they can see the way you grab onto the curtains on either side of you, holding on for dear life. They watch your face spasm in pleasure and pain as his massive cock rips you in two while simultaneously doling out thick, heavy, pounding waves of ecstasy.

He slams into you, deep and almost violent again and again, urging you on. "Fucking take it, baby. Every inch. Let them see what a good little cockslut you are. Show them how I own this pussy. Tell them."

He slams into you again, hard enough to raise your feet an inch off the ground. "Fucking, scream it out! Who owns this pussy?"

"You." You croak out.

But Dean cracks his palm down over your ass, making it jiggle. "Louder. They can't hear you. Who owns this fucking pussy?" He shouts, reaching around your body to lightly spank the soft mound.

"You!" You scream out as he slides in a finger from the same hand to rub against your clit.

"Say it again!" He shouts harshly, his voice all growl and grit, and you feel your slick running down your thighs. "Who does this pussy belong to?"

"You!" You scream out as he slams his cock into you, perfectly hitting your g-spot and making your eyes roll back in your head. "Fuck, Dean, it's yours, yours. I'm yours."

His big hand wraps around your throat and he pulls your head back so he can bite the hinge of your jaw and then down your neck.

"That's right, sweetheart." He whispers and then growls, "Mine."

He raises his hand from your throat to clutch your jaw and twist your face towards him. You can still smell your arousal on his thick fingers as they press into your skin.

He ravages your mouth, sucking on your tongue and bottom lip in turn. His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your cheeks as he holds you in place.

Your entire body is shaking as you fight to hold off your climax. As Dean slams into your sweet spot again, his hard middle finger swirling mercilessly against your clit, you begin to unashamedly beg him for relief.

"Please, Dean, please."

Dean's hard body softens against yours and his lips become pliant and teasing as they skitter along the curve of your shoulder.

"Okay, baby." Dean shifts to wrap one arm around your waist and sets his lips just behind your ear. "You can let go now."

He slams into you one more time before the earth around you shatters and narrows to nothing more than Dean's lips, hands, warmth, the press of his fingers and the slow slide of his cock through your tight channel, the scent of his sweat and the gushing heat of his come as he spills deep and thick into your womb.

As you come down, you turn to jelly in his arms, bones liquefied, and Dean pulls out of your body and holds you tight against him as he slowly closes the curtains, shutting out the witnesses to your utter annihilation.

He scoops you up and you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"You're all mine, my beautiful girl. All mine." He says as he lays you out on the wide mattress and quickly strips away his clothes.

He moves over you, and his flesh is warm and comforting.

He presses his mouth to yours, gentle now and coaxing. "Tell me again, sweetheart. Tell me you belong to me."

But it's not a demand this time, its a question.

"Always." You promise and Dean smiles before he dips his mouth back to yours and the madness builds again.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

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3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)

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[deansraspberrypie]

❤‍🔥🥵 Jensen Ackles +

blue cardigan 😏🔥

🍰 Tag list: @avanatural @undisputedchick @jranutter @fortheloveof-jackles @kazsrm67 @muchamusedaboutnothing @b3autyfuldisast3r @breath-of-snow-and-ashes @bluedragonflylady @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @mrsjenniferwinchester 🥧

[justagirlinafandomworld]

Love that this made you laugh!!

Thank you for reading!!

Auto Correct

Characters: Female Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester

Word Count: 415

Summary: You’re in a debate with Dean over text message. And auto correct happens.

Warnings: Second hand embarrassment maybe. Otherwise, none.

Bingo Squares Filled: Emoticons in Fic for How Bad Can It Be Bingo? @howbadcanitbebingo

A/N: While this is just plain silly, it was also surprisingly difficult! I now know dialogue is not my strongest skill and had to throw the emojis in at the very end. Please enjoy this nonsensical madness!

You fumbled with the phone, then nearly spilled the coffee down the front of your blouse.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked, concern already showing on his face. His large hands frozen in midair, ready to assist.

You staggered on a response, jaw working uselessly as words seemed to escape you. Apparently, all coherent thought had vanished as soon as you’d read whatever text you’d received.

Before Sam could peer into the screen, you were quickly shoving it into the back pocket of your jeans and rushing to place the Styrofoam cup on the table behind him.

At the same moment, Dean burst through the door, a string of hard no’s being thrown at the ground before the last one was thrust at you as the two of you met in the doorway.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I figured, it’s fine!”

The wildness in Dean’s eyes and the way you looked at everything in the room but Dean, Sam crossed his arms and tried to piece it together. With a finger pointed in Dean’s direction, he asked:

“Did you…send her a dick pic?” 🤔

“No!” The two of you shouted as one, the embarrassment and outrage doing nothing to quell the laughter bubbling up in Sam’s chest.

“Then what’s going on?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You tried to brush it off and step around Dean to the door.

“It was a typo, that’s all,” Dean continued to plea his case, even as he stepped aside for you, only to then get in your way.

Defeated, you looked up at Dean, your cheeks burning. The two of you seemed to be having a silent conversation, one in which Dean was asking for your understanding and you were willing to, just super embarrassed by it all.

“Can I read it?” Sam finally asked when neither of you actually said anything.

You and Dean looked at Sam and that seemed to break whatever awkwardness there was between you. Because while Dean was about to wave Sam off and dismiss the whole thing, you were already pulling your phone back out and stepping towards Sam.

“Hey,” Dean reached out as if to grab and hold you back but decided against it at the last second. With a grimace, he resigned himself to his fate. 💀

Sam read silently to himself and when his eyebrows shot up, he stared at Dean incredulously.

“Taste her? Wow, man, should I leave?” 💩

“It was supposed to say “tase”!” 😫 Dean grumbled as you and Sam burst into laughter.

Thanks for reading!

[cockslutpadalecki]

You Better Run

Summary: Once you’re on his list, there’s only one two ways off.

Characters: Sergei Kravinoff (Kraven The Hunter) x F!Reader.

Words: ~1K.

Warnings: mentions of multiple orgasms, a little blood consumption, rough sex, mostly just PWP. MINORS DNI.

A/N: Saw the trailer and became immediately feral for this man. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I got right now. Not beta’ed so all errors, spelling mistakes and general bullshit are entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

The unmistakable stench of blood is heavy in the air. A thick brew of copper and death that makes your nose itch. You try to scrunch it up to ease the sensation, but as it magnifies, you know you need more than that.

You need friction. You need your hands.

You tug against the weight around your wrists, but it fails to lessen. In fact, the pressure intensifies— tightens until you feel the bones in your wrists protesting, and a low rumble follows.

“Tryin’ to get away so soon?”

All you can do is whine in response, the deep, rippling ache between your drenched thighs ripping away your ability to speak.

The hunter fucks like he fights.

Raw. With violent precision. Every move calculated to maximize pain. But you’re grateful he’s not being driven by the need to kill you.

His needs are far more carnal than that.

More weight is forced against your back, the heady aroma of damp soil and hot sweat heavy in your nose. Can feel it wet on your skin as he covers your body with his, the weight pressing you hard against the trunk of the tree in front of you. The scrape of bark is freshly coarse on your flesh— flesh already rubbed raw by the friction of your body shunting against it with animalistic momentum.

A hand moves to cradle your jaw. Stray fingers smear cooling blood across your lips. You try to keep them out of your mouth, but he curls them inwards, encouraging your lips to purse around his probing digits.

The taste is stronger than the smell. Like rolling a dirty penny across your tongue. It initially makes you gag, but as the taste slowly fades from the back of your throat, another replaces it.

Briny. Almost sweet. The taste of you.

You’re reminded of his fingers buried in your cunt— positioned perfectly to make you surrender to his will.

Minutes was all it took for you to submit.

With some reluctance, you start to lap at his fingers, nipping your teeth along his knuckles in an attempt to stifle your moans. Your stomach tightens, rolling and twisting as you shamefully— eagerly— anticipate each thrust that follows.

Fierce grunts sound from behind you— gutturally deep and rough. “You can leave when I let you,” he tells you, his nose in your hair. He tightens his grip around your wrists, using his steel hold to pull you sharply back onto his dripping cock.

You see white. Your knees give out. You shiver and quake, wedged in like a vice as you come yet again. You’ve lost count, your brain fucked out.

“But if you keep comin’ around me like this,” he whispers, voice broken and jagged with lust, “you won’t ever be makin’ it out of my sight.”

***

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[sofreddie]

Garage (Domestic Drabble)

Summary: Dean surprised Sam with a little project.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Domestic Fluff and Nonsense

WC: 620

A/N: Inspired by a line in Reinforcements.

Domestic Drabbles

Instead, he gazed at the older vehicle, situated off to the side where the heavy equipment was housed. Dean had been working to fix it up, Sam spending time with him as his older brother rattled off about the vehicle and parts and quizzed him to ensure he was paying attention.

–

Sam entered the garage, having arrived there by following the loud sounds of rock music and banging metal tools. He had been looking for his brother, promising him earlier in the day that he’d come to see whatever surprise Dean said he’d gotten.

Sam climbed the few short steps into the garage, the loud sounds from within nearly deafening. He covered his ears and squinted as he walked across the concrete floor to the blasting radio. The sudden decline in volume had Dean turning, and his furrowed brow eased as a grin took over his face, greeting his little brother.

“There you are!” Dean chimed, setting aside his tools and wiping his hands with an already-soiled shop rag.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Sam responded, tucking his hands into his jeans pockets. “So, what’s the surprise?”

Dean’s grin grew, if possible, as he removed the sheet covering the surprise - a junk heap of a car, or at least what was once a car. 

“You were so into the modern POS you had, so I got you the real deal,” Dean proudly pronounced. “I’m gonna teach you how to build her from the ground up, and she’ll be all yours.”

“You got me a Charger?” 

“Yes. I got a 1967 Dodge Charger, Sam. Not some crappy modern tech. A real car. Like my Baby,” he smirked.

Sam couldn’t stop the small chuckle that broke forth. He never really needed his own car, except when hunting without his brother. Now that they were practically retired, they weren’t apart very often. When they were, Sam usually used the old truck in the garage. But the fact that Dean not only got him a classic car but was using it as something they could do together made him almost giddy. 

“Here,” Dean tossed a pair of coveralls to Sam, who quickly caught them. “Throw those on.”

“We’re starting now?” Sam questioned, though he still pulled on the coveralls. “From scratch?” 

“How else are you gonna learn?” Dean scoffed, turning his back to his brother as he sorted through his tools on the tabletop. “M’not going to be around forever, you know? You gotta learn this stuff sometime.”

Sam was glad Dean had his back turned so he couldn’t see Sam's sour look over his choice of words. He didn’t like to think about his brother not being around; he’d experienced it enough, thank you. He didn’t need the reminder that any day could be the last, even in a ‘normal’ life.

Working on the car became something they did almost daily for a few hours when they weren’t busy with other things. Each day, Dean would quiz Sam on things they’d gone over before and teach him new information. Slowly, the car looked more like a car, not a heap of junk. Sam knew Dean was good at cars. He’d built Baby from the ground up a few times. But he realized Dean was good enough to go professional if he wanted. 

When Dean barked at him to see if he was paying attention, Sam smirked and tucked his thoughts away to discuss with Dean later. He had faith in his big brother, and now that they were living a ‘normal’ life, Sam believed they could pursue interests and build roots. He hoped Dean would feel the same. For now, they had each other and time and a new car to add to their collection. 

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

@hobby27

@kazsrm67

@maliburenee

@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@leigh70

@laycblack

DEAN WINCHESTER:

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

@awkward-and-indecisive

@akshi8278

@mimaria420

SAM WINCHESTER:

@b3autyfuldisast3r

[kickingitwithkirk]

La Princesse Vierge

Pairing: Pirate!Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5296

Warnings:  pirate ship attack, cursing, show level violence, p/v sex, fingering, cunnilingus, a pinch of dub/con

Squares filled: @spnkinkbb -Hair Pulling @j3bingo - “Can I kiss you?” @spnaubingo -Pirate AU  @spnmixedbingo -Sam @winchesterandbeyondbingo -virgin @anyfandomgoesbingo -Bodyguard AU @howbadcanitbebingo -Magical Healing Cock @anyfandomdarkbingo -aquaphilia @witchsambingo -solitary witch

Winchester brothers art inspiration and here

A/N: Thank you to @justagirlinafandomworld and @b3autyfuldisast3r for helping pick bingo squares inspiring this story

A/N II: Once again, brevity is not in my vocabulary

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

The sound of men shouting and heavy thumping on the timbers started me from my slumber and by the time on the carriage clock, it was pre-dawn. 

I barely had the sash of my robe tied when the cabin door unlocked flying open and my guardian rushed in, still attired in his night clothes, hair askew, shouting something when the first cannonball slammed into the ship's hull making me stagger. 

Righting myself I pushed past him making for the main deck and finding it in chaos when I emerged from under the poop deck. 

The British officers rushed around me barking orders, crew climbing the rigging to secure lines on the yardarm that had been damaged so the sails didn't fully collapse as the ship shudders from the pounding it’s taking and our cannons returning fire.

I made my way onto the forecastle and froze seeing a dark, ominous, and easily twice the size of our ship flying a Jolly Roger seconds before it fires again.

The blast hitting near the waterline knocks me off my feet. 

I scurry to the closest railing wrapping my arms around one of the spindles can barely understand Captain Barrows shouting orders from the helm as he turns the wheel, maneuvering the ship so the sails can catch more wind and will allow us to outrun the significantly heavier ship.

The captain finished spinning the wheel only to realize he’d steered directly in line with another ship, equal to our attacker's size, bearing down fast upon us leaving him no choice but to call for the white flag of surrender to be raised. 

The air is thick with cannon smoke and tension as grappling hooks fly over the port side sinking into the wood and dragging us towards the first ship as the second comes along starboard pinning us between them. 

Planks are extended allowing the marauders to come aboard with guns and cutlasses drawn, rounding up the crew and disarming them. I was led to stand off to the side with my guardian and officers awaiting the pirate captain's arrival.

During the time we were waiting the raiders methodically unload everything of value from the ship's stores as their quartermaster takes inventory against the ship's manifest and paused speaking to a burly pirate, who’d been silently observing the going on when a handsome, sturdily built man made his way across the deck to them.

He’s taller up close, clad in a well-worn ensemble; cropped dark blonde hair under a wide-brimmed, woven straw hat, a jerkin over belted thigh length, open tunic showing smooth skin covered with a dusting of cinnamon freckles, made more prominent by the Caribbean sun, below the knee trousers, hose and and and tall leather boots.

Watching him converse with the burly one I felt envious of his full lips and long lashes when his verdant eyes drifted over to me causing several of the officers to attempt closing ranks to hide me only to find several guns pointed at them to stop. 

I definitely glared directly when the man’s wicked chartreuse eyes framed with long, thick lashes traversed my scandalously underclad body, blatantly staring at my breasts and smiling in an unsettling manner.

 “Looks like we’re gonna get some fun after all Benny.” 

That’s when my guardian pushed forward and said the stupidest things, “how dare you..you pirate pig! When the king hears about this..”

“Stop flapping that tongue or I’ll do it for ya,” Benny threatens in a bastardized French accent reaching for the knife hilt protruding from his boot when the other slaps the back of his hand against his chest and calmly remarks in his deep, gravelly voice, “relax Benny, let's hear what the man has to say before you collect another trophy.”

My guardian's eyes boggle when Captain Barrow spoke up. “Take whatever items you wish then allow us to proceed to our destination.”

The quartermaster points out something in the manifest to Benny made him grin, take it and drapes his arm over the other's shoulders.

“Deano, the rougir mariée is King George’s niece, Countess Y/L/N, heading for her nuptials to the prestigious Governor of Antigua and lookie..ol’ George sent a dowry.”

“Dean Winchester?” 

The Captain's eyes widened as there was a restless murmuring amongst the offices, many seem to lose their resolve realizing who had captured us.

“The one and only,” he smirked, canting his head to the right, “ya’ catch who we have the honor of being in the presence of Sammy?”

Captain Barrow follows his line of sight and standing a few feet away a man blocking the view with his tremendous height and breadth of shoulders is tapping long fingers on the hilt of a cutlass. He is clad in the same manner as this Dean except for a jacket and the open tunic reveals his golden-hued, moderately-haired, muscular torso. 

The subtle sea breeze stirs the ends of his longish, chestnut streaked with coppery tints hair, tied back under a tricorn hat is without a doubt the most incredibly striking man I’ve ever seen.

“It’s Sam,”  he emphasized in a deep, honey-whisked voice, ”and we mutually agreed not to get sidetracked again, we’re already late for our rendezvous.”

“Aww, don’t be like that little brother. Gordon will understand when he sees what the king's benevolence has sent our way.” Dean crooks a finger at me, “come here, wench.”

No man outside the King had ever dared speak to me in such an impertinent manner makes my spine stiffen and Dean’s eyes narrowed, not pleased with my defiance came over grabbed my wrist jerked me out of my indignant repose.

I soundly slapped him.

His eyes boggled for a brief moment then drew back his arm and I closed my eyes bracing for his physical assault. 

It never came.

I cracked one eye open and gasped; hovering scant inches from my nose was his fist enclosed in the much larger one of his younger brother.

“Do you realize the amount of trouble your impetuousness has brought upon us, big brother?” 

Dean twistes his hand lose and stepping within earshot lowered his voice, “you think the kings gonna get pissed over losing her? She’s obviously not of much value since he refused her her rightful title.” 

I blinked in surprise. 

Dean presents himself as a common pirate but even out here in the middle of nowhere has contacts within the court who supply information of the goings on of the Palace. 

Dean gestures to Benny for the ship's manifest, “look at her dowry, this ship's stores have more monetary value.” Sam took the book, its pages made his lips turn downward. 

“Old George’s marrying her off as a reward to some bureaucrat instead of brokering a new alliance by marriage with France or Spain, so his loss is our gain. We could make quite a bit of coin selling her to Zachariah.”

Benny interjected, “ya’ brothers right on ‘dis one cher. Zachariah be willing to pay handsomely for royal blood, even outta favor. Plus being a vierge makes her a more délicieux morsel to offer up.” 

Sam hands the manifest back to Benny as his uniquely colored eyes traverse over me and I feel a sensation of pleasure?

I found myself sitting on a water barrel on the deck of this ship, The Charger after Dean lost some strange game called rock, paper, scissors.

Over the horizon, I can barely make out the longboat, with what was left of Captain Barrow's crew (and my former guardian) rowing away while his ship sunk into the fathoms wondering if it would’ve been a kinder fate to have gone down with it.

Sensing someone I turn to see an innocent looking young man wave at me.  “Hi, I’m Jack, the Captain requests that you join him below deck please.”

The please surprised me, “and if I refuse?”

Jack's face turns serious, “you don’t want to know what happened to the last person who did that.”

~~~

Captain Winchester and his first mate, a short, older man named Crowley, are hunched over a map table barely gaze up at my arrival, continuing on with their discussion. I take the opportunity to look around at the spacious, well-organized, not cluttered with ill-gotten gains, cabin. 

There's an oak dining table seating six, a rolltop writing desk with several rolled documents lying neatly on it, and strangely, a bookcase running along the wall nearest me followed the progression of its various volumes, so absorbed I stumbled face-first upon an overly large bed realizing these are the Captain's personal quarters.

“I’ve never had a woman fall into my bed enraptured by my literature.”

Embarrassed by my oft-clumsiness making itself known, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, “well, it is truly impressive,” peering up to find myself staring straight at his..”cock?”

“Now I have had many a woman say that.”

I dropped my face back into the bed feeling a blush coursing from my toes to the top of my head when he burst out laughing, gripped my arm, and hauls me upright. I knew he was big and, though I am not as delicate a specimen as a lady is expected to be, he is massive this close.

“Let’s start over by properly introducing ourselves,“ he steps back, bowing elegantly, “Dr. Sameul Winchester, previously personal physician to the Governor of Montauk, currently captain of The Charger.”

My mouth dropped, “how does one go from such a prestigious profession to..”

His lips, how does a man have such pretty pink lips, quirk, “a scourge and scallywag of his majesty's providences? It started when my father was accused of treason.”

A vague memory of an overheard conversation tickles the back of my mind, “your father was Sir John Winchester, the shipbuilder?” 

“He was part of a consortium that found out several of the king's advisers were in cahoots with Spain during the War of Succession.”

I remember the turmoil that conflict caused for years as he poured an amber liquid into two goblets and hands me one.

 “I lodged a complaint through the governor about his innocents. Subsequently, I was arrested and found guilty of insurrection against the crown.”

“That is outrageous! If the King was made aware of such a miscarriage..”

“It was all done on the Lord Chancellor's orders,” Sam bitterly bit out sitting at the table's head, “spent the next two years at the oars.” I sat down in the chair next to him sickened, having heard rumors about the Lord Chancellor, knowing of what deceptions some would resort to for power.

“I was then auctioned off to a plantation owner and worked at the grindstone when the niece of the island's governor did me a favor. I spent the rest of my time as his personal physician before several of us orchestrated our liberation.” 

“We hid out for months on uninhabited islands Crowly knew from his time on a naval ship in these waters caught wind that Dean had escaped England, ironically on the first ship our father had constructed, The Impala.”

He stared into his cup, “it took another five months of dodging his majesty's navy before he found us and now,” he gestures with one large hand, ”I’m captain of the last ship our father built.”

He studied me with a clinical eye asking, “is what Dean said about your circumstances true?” 

I read in his handsome feature’s anything but the truth wouldn’t be tolerated and took a sip from the goblet to help steady my resolve wheezed from the strength of the spirits made him chuckle. 

Catching my breath I told him the abbreviated version.

~~~

King George I had an ongoing, private feud with one of his siblings, my father, for over two decades.

Upon my birth, the King refused me the title of a princess and instead granted countess as a slight to my father, rendering me almost valueless despite my prestigious lineage. 

Out of shame, my father sent me to live at Hatfield House, saying it was for my health and despite my family’s wealth, I grew up rather poor.  All household accounts were paid by my inheritance, adjusted for my lower rank, thus explaining my minuscule dowery. 

Five months ago, an envoy from London arrived announcing my marriage to the governor of one of his Majesty’s Caribbean provinces and after weeks of preparations my appointed guardian and I boarded Captain Barrow's ship bound for the Caribbean.

~~~

Captain Winchester, Sam, he insists I call him, gave me an unreadable expression before laying out some rules while aboard his ship; I had access to the main deck as long as I was accompanied by Jack, Crowley, or himself, otherwise confined to his quarters we’d both be sharing. 

I was scandalized, it wasn’t that I’d never shared a room before, I had with my governess, but to do so with a man I wasn’t wedded to, if anyone got wind of those arrangements, it’d malign me in society. 

Vehemently objecting I went a step too far in telling him when one overly large hand grabbed my loosely plaited hair and yanked me sideways I felt a strange but not unpleasant sensation traverse through me, a mixture of fear and pleasure.

He tightened his grip and said, “hate to break it to you princess, what you want doesn’t matter. My ship, my rules.” Keeping our eyes locked leans so close I could feel his rum-spiced breath caress my lips when a loud banging on the cabin door interrupts. 

He shouts what, listen to the message relayed, and, with a growl, releases me standing up unabashedly adjusting his engorged member before storming out, slamming the heavy oak door behind him.

When I’m able to feel my legs I shakily cross to the wash basin pouring some water into it and, in a very unladylike manner, dunk my face trying to compose myself but wasn’t helping, every fiber of my being hoped next time he manhandled me, he wouldn’t stop.

Captain Sam Winchester has proven to be a dichotomy and discombobulates me to no end!

Publicly he acts like a well-bred gentleman, even granting privacy when attending to my personal needs, then does a complete turnaround when his brother comes aboard, reverting to the crudeness associated with pirate ilk. 

During the evening meals, the rum flows freely and so does both brothers' lips, especially Dean's. I have had to resist the urge to punch his smug face, plastering on the polite smile I would fake at court when his conversation became pugnacious towards me. 

The last straw was when he indiscriminately pissed in a chamberpot and I fled, mortified, as both brothers laughed. 

At least Sam has shown discretion when it comes to his privy moments but proved true to his words with the other arrangements. The first night I’d made a pallet on the other side of the table, it was the furthest point with some semblance of privacy, instantly fell into an exhausted slumber. 

I was startled when he flung off my blanket and gripping my ankle dragged me across the floor screaming bloody murder when the cabins door burst open and his first mate charged in with pistol drawn.

Crowley assessed the situation and had the audacity to be amused at our tableau; Sam standing over me clad only in his breeches, my nightdress ripped, hanging off a shoulder with the hem bunched up around the top of my thighs barely covering my pudendum.

 “Might I suggest gagging her if she's going to protest your romantic overtures Moose, some of us need our beauty sleep.” 

“Fuck off Crowley!” 

“Oh, I intend to, dreaming about this,” and with a wicked grin, left and Sam returned his attention to me. “I told you we’d be sharing this room; that includes the bed. Get up and get into it now!”

With what decorum I could muster clutch my ripped bodice warily getting up, and edge around him ordered me to stop handed me the shirt he’d been wearing, “I don’t want you fussing with that torn rag all night.”

Turning so I had a semblance of privacy I gasped upon seeing his broad back littered with whipping scars move closer, lightly rubbing my fingers over them flinched and spun seizing my wrist. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have been subjected to..I have never condoned such treatment of anyone, no matter what.”

Not saying a word he shoved me towards the bed and I obediently climbed in mentally bracing myself for what was to come when he climbs in the other side and lays down with his back to me.

 “Good night, princess.”

Sleep eluded me for a long time, my mind occupied by this man sleeping next to me, like none I have ever met, and cannot figure out what game he was playing.

Six days later 

I found myself sitting on the beach of some obscure island half-listening to the brothers' conference as Gordon, whom I had taken an instant dislike to, scrutinized me.

Pressing my lips tight together, I vehemently try but cannot suppress my chortle over the item sitting on a crate in front of me any longer.

“What the hell so funny women?” Gordon snaps. 

Lifting my chin from my hand peer over at the darker-complected man, my senses tingling, warning me something about him is all wrong.

“I was wondering,” getting up to dust the sand off Jack’s spare breeches Sam insisted I wear in case we needed to make a quick exit, “if they know what the translation of bолшебный исцелеющий петух is?” 

The Winchesters exchanged looks, “seriously? Neither of you speaks Russian?”

Gordon’s eyes narrowed, “keep quiet or I’ll remove your tongue.”

Little did he know such threats would not scare me, they were nothing compared to the Kings during one of his fits of displeasure.

“The literal translation is Magical Healing Cock.”

They wore matching bewildered expressions, “it’s used in magical practices to help channel sexual energies of the participants while they are,” I made the crude gesture learned from Dean indicating a certain sexual act.

“What the..magical sex..how can you..you’re a virgin!” Dean stumbled out before turning on Gordon, “you lying sonuvabitch, thought you could cheat us!”

Gordon moved quickly, wrapping an arm around my neck placed his pistol against my temple, using me as a shield.

“Since we can’t come to terms, I’ll take the virgin as compensation, she’ll bring me quite a bit of coin at Le marché des esclave AHHHH!” 

Gordon's scream echoed across the beach when I sliced his arm with the engraved silver blade I was given years ago. the whites of his eyes disappear revealing what he was before the beach erupted into pandemonium. 

The Winchester's men engaged Gordon's crew in a bloody battle as I struggled to escape his hold saw the brothers simultaneously fire their pistols and felt one iron ball pass my cheek embedding into that bastard's face as the other enters his chest, his dead weight dragging us down.

But instead of dying, Gordon pinned me under him, wrapping both hands around my throat heard Dean begin reciting, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te..” 

Gordon looked up and flicked a hand sending Dean hurtling towards the treeline and Sam continued, “cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare, Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis..Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine..”

His voice choked off from the invisible force constructing his throat I managed to wheeze out, “quem inferi tremunt..Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!”

Gordon's head snapped back, his mouth exuding thick, black, sulfuric smoke plumes outward before penetrating the sand, the heat solidifying it into a jagged ring of black glass. The demons infesting his crew also smoked out to save themselves.

Benny checks Dean's bleeding head and helps him up, slapping his shoulder. Sam inspected my person, finding me uninjured except for finger-shaped bruises on my neck.

“Is this where the rogue pirate asks the princess can I kiss you?”

The surprise flickering across his face at my flippancy made Dean laugh, “alright princess, where the hell did you get that blade and learn to exorcize a demon?”

“My governess was from these islands. She passed her knowledge of the supernatural, and the blade, on to me.”

“Looks like the vierge is worth a lot more than I assumed,” Benny grudgingly remarked.

We spent the rest of the day split into groups:  I helped Sam attend to the injured, Dean led a group to search Gordon’s ship for anything worth salvaging while the rest gathered the bodies, rowing them out to deposit onboard setting it alight before sailing away.

In the pre-dawn light, the ships anchored in a deep water cove of another remote island to lay low for a few days, a chance to rest and recover plus replenish the water casks and some perishables. By late afternoon the necessities were squared away.

A tired-looking Sam had me gather bath sheets and a change of clothing while he grabbed some bread, cheese, and a small, tied bag, placing everything in a burlap sack then we boarded one of the longboats headed for shore.

He led us along a hidden path inland and noticed my fascination with the sight and sounds and began telling me the names of brightly colored birds, strange animals scurrying into the bush, and exotically scented flowers. 

My babbling with delight at finding fresh fruit and mint amuses him, gathering the fruit that’s out of my reach, and starts describing the variety of drinks and dishes they are used in to ward off scurvy..once a doctor.

I picked some of the mint leaves, added a few to the canteen, and began chewing on a couple when I heard running water follow the sound enter a secluded area with a small waterfall feeding a clear pool.

“I found this years ago, the waters are safe and no nasty critters to contend with,” Sam informed me, sitting the sack down on one of the flattened, water-smoothed rocks surrounding the pool digging out the small bag handed me one of the soap cakes.

The one thing I hated the most after leaving England was the inability to cleanse properly, especially my hair, for weeks, only allowed a cursory wipe down daily from the one water cask I was allotted. 

“We won’t be disturbed so take as long as you like. I’ll be on the other side,” he pointed to a grouping of bushes, “and able to hear you.”

Spending the night covered in sand, ash, and blood I wanted to tear my clothes off and dive in instead hesitantly asking, “are you still planning on selling me to this Alistair?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“Keeping me would be advantageous for you.”

Sam leaned against a Bannon tree crossing his arms, “explain to me how keeping you would be advantageous?”

“One-thanks to the King, no one will miss me enough to cause trouble. Two-thanks to my governess, I’m knowledgeable about artifacts and other things that are not Christian, thus exposing Gordon's attempted deception. Three-thanks to my tutors, I speak six languages, well seven, if you include Latin, which saved your collective arses from those demons.  Four-thanks to my intended marriage and what you liberated from Captain Barrow's ship surpasses any monetary value you would make selling me.”

I had learned when Sam partially opened his mouth and rolled his tongue he was considering whatever was presented and decided to up the ante.

 “And five-you. You find me attractive, and would it not be far safer having me in your bed than those doxies of Tortuga to tup?” 

Sam frowned, “what do you know about doxies and tupping?” 

“Did your father never take you to court?” 

“No.”

“The King's court is riddled with some of the best whores in the world. Many were sent to France to train as courtesans and are encouraged to implement their charms to curry favors or seal deals. Several of the queens ladies-in-waiting educated me about copulation while avoiding the maladie française and pregnancy.” 

Sam’s throat rapidly bobbles at that tidbit.

Slowly moving towards him asked, “did you know that royalty isn’t permitted to bathe by themselves? It was always someone’s responsibility to ensure their personage is disease free.” I stop a handbreadth distance and fixate upon his chameleon eyes, “as the only person qualified, it falls upon you to continue monitoring my health.”

He moved so fast. Suddenly I was pinned between his well-muscled chest and the tree, his long fingers roughly tangled in my hair creating an exquisite pain jolting my core.

“Are you only offering to evade being sold off?”

“Maybe.”

  “If I were to keep you, you would be completely under our command.”

 “Please, what do you mean by our?”

“My brother and I equally share everything, this includes women.” I shuddered at the thought of being with his brother, “would you also share me with your crews?”

“No, Dean and I are possessive of our dames entretenues. Do you understand what that entails, princess?

“I would appreciate explicit clarification.”

“Explicitly,” Sam pulled my head to the side leans so close I can feel his lips against my skin as he spoke, “you will be warming one, or both, of our sheets every day,” he continues, “participating in whatever sexual gratification we desire.” I mewl when he bites down hard enough to leave a mark on the juncture of my shoulder, “unless it is time for your flow. Is that clarification enough?”

“Yes, captain.”

“Yes Sir,” he corrects.

“Yes Sir.”

Sam released me, “take off all of your togs.” 

Unabashedly he removed his shirt, “you pointed out it is my responsibility to keep you in good health so I need to examine your physique before engaging in relations charnelles.”

I had little to fear sleeping next to him the last few days but now at the prospect of what is going to happen, I felt trepidation while sliding off my trousers when Sam’s bare feet and calves appeared in view and he lifts my arms, gripped the hem of the shirt and pulls it over my head casting it off. 

Sam wasn’t the first man I saw in the altogether but still felt myself blushing fiercely at both of us taking inventory of everything on display, reminded of the old adage of proportions and a man's appendage undeniably true for him.  

Taking my hands he walks backwards into the warm water till I’m waist-deep then undoes the tie holding back my hair says, “take a deep breath and submerge yourself.” 

I resurface momentarily panicking at Sam’s overly large hands on my head, feeling his fingers lathered in soap cake, massaging my scalp, strangely soothing and exciting, like when he pulls my hair. 

After rinsing he handed me the soap cake, wetting himself then moving back knelt down on his knees in shallower waters.

I had washed my dogs when they came in muddy from the fields but never another person rubbed the cake between my hands then tentatively ran them through his locks, silkier than I’d imagined a man’s hair would be. 

When my short nails scratched his scalp, his muscles twitched and I trailed my fingers over their contours, tracing the scars decorating his skin and felt his breath brush my cheek moving towards my lips I dropped my hands, confusing him.

“I did not verbally agree to those terms,” maneuver back into the water call out, “I have some stipulations of my own,” and swam to the falls. 

I heard him curse and look back, unable to find Sam when he emerged from underwater lifting me onto one of the flattened rocks stood between my spread legs annoyed.

“What makes you think you’re in any position to negotiate terms?” A gentleman would endure only so much, and I had pushed my luck and his patience.

“I only have one. I do not wish to be shared with your brother.” Sam’s mouth downturned,  “something happened to him, it caused an unsettlement..it scares me,” suddenly I am very aware of how naked, not only physically, I had made myself.

I leaned back when Sam placed his hands on either side of me and brought him a bit too close, “what do you know about that?” 

“My governess figured out that I knew things about people just by being in their proximity. It’s why she taught me about the otherworld, said I had been born cursed and if they learned of it, they would come for me someday.”

Sam’s shoulders dropped and his expression saddened, skipping the worst details of what happened to Dean when he was under the tower, the darkest place to be imprisoned, run by a true connoisseur of medieval torturers, Alastair. 

I reached up cupping his cheek putting his focus back on me and tentatively brushing my lips against his he reciprocated, gently caressing mine when I felt his tongue and surprised open up, he inserts it, tangling with mine, showing what a real kiss can be.

His lips following his hands trailing over my bare skin makes me shiver and release a nervous giggle, I feel him smile against my neck, nipping the delicate, bruised skin and I tip my head back as he continues exploring.

At some point I find myself lying back on the rock, eyes closed, an absolute mess while he licks the water off my skin only to have his hair rewet the area and starts over again.

His long fingers brush a sensitive place inside, has me on the edge of needing something I cannot name, and every time I try descending into it, Sam stops and returns to teasing my nipples, suckling gently and twisting between his fingers. 

Jesu, how can a man have both; hands so violent and tender, lips harsh and caressing, at the same time feel a deep aching rising again, can almost taste it then, once again, halts touching me smugly asks, “still want to renegotiate the terms?” 

“Fuck you!” I yawp in frustration.

Sam’s expression changed to irate and bracing myself for the worst he leaned in..amused? 

I could only blink owlishly as he scans my prone form, lewdly splayed before him, chameleon eyes settle upon my pudenda licking his lips trailing fingers downwards over my heated skin inserting three into me, rubbing over that place dipping his head his talented tongue sends me over the plateau, and, without warning, lifts me up off the rock.

I find myself filled with his substantial membrum virile, waters churned up around us, not from the falls but his vigorous thrusting, now appreciating my thorough préparation for Riding St. George felt his muscles tauten, buried his face in the crook of my neck groaning out his release. 

My vaguely functioning mind is amazed after such a strenuous physical excursion he is still holding me in his arms, walks us to the shore, and sits with me clinging like one of the strange creatures explorers write about felt him silently chuckle. 

“Seems I missed learning a lot about ladies by never attending court,” I peer at him puzzled.

 “Dean will be pissed, he was looking forward to using this,” his fingertips trace the outline of my mouth, “for more than your verbal vitriol. Now I’ll have to sweeten the pot so he will forget about you with that very special pistol he’s been wanting.” 

“Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“I agree to your counteroffer, princess” 

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva  @b3autyfuldisast3r  @lassie-bird @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67  @leigh70

Sam/Jared:  @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen:  @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @akshi8278  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl  @siospins2

[impala-dreamer]

Tell me about being in a cabin with Dean, having a calm, romantic night, and having sex while it snows outside.

Boots and Blankets and Things -

His boots were by the door. Snow was melting off the treds as the heat from the fireplace reached across the big room. The little puddle was nothing to worry about, they could clean it up later. 

The thick blankets were tossed aside and rumpled beneath them; the warm wool threads frayed from years of use. They didn’t make blankets like that anymore, they were only ever found tucked away in the back of closets or stowed in car trunks in case of emergencies. 

An empty whiskey bottle lay on its side on the floor, kicked over by an elbow, a foot, who’s to say? They’d drunk their fill and then some, raiding Bobby’s stash in the bedroom until they were warm and giddy, drowning in lust and rye. 

Flannel shirts were balled up as pillows and stuffed beneath her head. Denim was cast away aside like trash, cotton was sprinkled like breadcrumbs across the cabin. 

Outside a gentle snow fell onto freezing earth, weighing down the pine trees, erasing the gravel driveway, the stairs, their hopes of escape. It piled up on the windows, stuck in the muntin, fogged up the glass. 

Inside, he held her close, spreading kisses like honey down her body. His lips were chapped from the cold but oh so warm as they nipped at her shoulder, suckled on her breast, parted her lips with hungry kisses. 

Light from the fire played across their nakedness, casting shadows in curves and illuminating sacred spaces usually kept hidden. Dean kissed every spot, let his fingers glide over every inch previously unknown. Y/N held her breath as he explored, moaned his name when he struck the sweet spots. She scraped her nails down his back, nibbled gently on his ears, fit her thighs snug around his trim waist. 

There was no rush, no need to worry. There were no monsters lurking behind the trees, no doomsday clock ticking away over their heads. There was only the perfect falling snow and the fire, only the passion between them and the stillness of the forest.  

Tomorrow, they would dig their way out, shovel the Impala free and fight their way down the mountain. But tonight they slept in peace, sated and calm, wrapped together on the floor by the fire. Tonight they found the love they both needed, the safety of old wool blankets and the warmth of each other’s arms.

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@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @b3autyfuldisast3r @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bloodline1632 @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @djs8891 @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @jawritter @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @leigh70 @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library 

[sincericida]

Appreciate a little more of the sunshine in a bottle, daily serotonin boost... as @b3autyfuldisast3r would say 🧡 🌞👑

Andrew Garfield at the 80th Annual Golden Globe Awards | January 10, 2023 | in Beverly Hills, California.

[holylulusworld]

Can you recommend any supernatural fics you love to read or blogs ? I’m so obsessed with yours it’s so amazing

Hi there lovely, and thank you.

f you haven’t discovered this masterlist yet, I highly recommend reading @jay-and-dean’s series (I read them all.) She has a few collabs with @roonyxx too on her list. My fav is still  Firefly (with @roonyxx).

You should check The raven by @roonyxx out. It’s not finish yet, but I like it very much. It’s different.

I started reading Legally Yours by @smol-and-grumpy.

Bed of Roses I love this one by @crispychrissy. She has a lot more stories. Be aware, this blog no longer writes for SPN.

One of my all time fav stories on here is Long Way Home by @supersleepygoat. The writer is no longer active on Tumblr, but the series is complete. You must search for the rest of the chapters (the last part #40 is pinned)

Gosh, I’m a slow reader lately and I forgot half of the stories in my favs. If you want to read more, search my sideblog for the things I want to read:

ReblogBlog

OR, for the stories I already read, search my mainblog (this blog) for “Lulu reads”, “fic rec”, “fic recommendation”.

I’ll just drop some of my fav blogs here who write for SPN (at least the ones coming to my mind):

@cockslutpadalecki, @moosekateer13, @impala-dreamer, @negans-lucille-tblr, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @b3autyfuldisast3r, @kittenofdoomage, @saxxxology, @deanwanddamons, @jawritter, @deanwithscissors, @covered-byroses, @thecleverdame (no longer active on here), @jensengirl83, @flamencodiva, @acreativelydifferentlove, @waywardrose13 @firefly-in-darkness

I know I forgot so many blogs. Please forgive my useless brain. You are appreciated…I just can’t remember your url atm. 🥰🥺

If anyone wants to rec a blog or if you want to add your blog, feel free to reply to this post.