#winchester tower
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Windsor Castle from Datchet Lane on a rejoicing night, 1768
by Paul Sandby
#windsor castle#art#paul sandby#windsor#datchet lane#england#english#bonfire#night#full moon#river bank#fireworks#river thames#middle ward#winchester tower#star buildings#georgian era#georgian#great britain#history#celebration#king#george iii#torch#tricorn hat#drunken#drunk#castle#british#torchbearer
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#sam towering over his top AND having a grabbable waist we love to see it. 💘💘💘#sam winchester#dean winchester#samdean#weirdcest#wincest
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what he texted Cas 🤠 + 😇 = ❤️ 🌈 ?
#he’s waiting to hear back but he doesn’t know cas got overexcited and took all cell towers on a 100 mile radius offline#satellites are dropping from he sky and Dean thinks it’s another apocalypse#cas is screaming like a tea kettle about to burst#spn#dean winchester#destiel#supernatural#castiel#deancas#misha collins#jensen ackles#spn crack#spn memes#supernatural memes#dean posting#bisexual#bisexuality#dean is bi#bi dean#bisexual dean winchester#pride month#happy pride 🌈#am i gay quiz
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I'm sure this has already been done, but I was rewatching Two Towers and I could not unsee the parallels of Aragorn trying to return Arwen's necklace and the mix tape scene from 12x19 🫠
#destiel#spn#dean winchester#castiel#lotr#two towers#supernatural#the brain rot is always rotting#it's even better because there's no way Ramble On wasn't on that mix tape#i actually love that the parallel is that Dean is Arwen bc i feel like that is how Cas would view them (even though he is an immortal being#like Cas would for sure think of himself as the man not living up to his potential who isn't worthy of this ethereal and wonderful person#who loves them enough to be the one to let go (even though the other person doesn't want the sacrifice)#And Dean is Arwen who is besotted and so in love and thinks it is so obvious that they are all in and showing love through precious gifts#but of course the other person (Cas/Aragon) is clueless and is pulling away because they think it's for the best of the other person#oh and there's the whole we-are-inherently-different-and-one-of-us-will-outlive-the-other agony#although i could see it the other way too because Arwen (as an elf) is very angel coded and the whole giving up immortality bit#someone take away the keyboard before I start writing a thesis#unrelated: anyone have any elf!Castiel/human!Dean fics they want to recommend 😂
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(gifs not owned by me)
#destiel#dean winchester#castiel#supernatural#misha collins#jensen ackles#spn#parallels#aragorn#arwen#evenstar#lotr#lord of the rings#the two towers#mixtape
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waited the entire day for when they're alone in their bedroom to talk about personal stuff between them. their ass is so dramatic do they even know how married-coded they are
#if i had a nickel for everytime the camera was panned on dean and sam was in the back like he's asking for forgiveness#they do it in a way that's like sam is condemned by the pov itself bc dean doesn't agree with him#i'd have three nickels and that's what i remember off the back of my head#this is gonna be a stretch but listen what if these shots are taken like this not bc they're from dean's pov (obvious answer) but#because they're taken from sam's pov. he knows he's doing the right thing but he's not falling in line with dean#and with sam's later mindworkings he actually sees it as a personal deficiency when they're both not in agreement#like he MUST make them reach the same page one or another or it'll be his greatest failure. he tries so hard to convince dean#but if he still fails he doesn't mind compromising and throwing away his belief just so they'd be in sync again.#(there's exceptions which are just when the matter of conflict involves dean himself. that's when sam just never lets dean have his way)#like the way sam who's towering and all looks small here i know im pulling this out of my ass but i believe it could be a thematic#symbolizing for sam deeming himself less in relation to failing dean which includes upholding ideas different from dean#so unless sam cuts this lapse of synchronization between them short it'd always be viewed as a personal shortcoming on sam's side.#im cooking but they should close the kitchen on me#samdean#spn#sam winchester#dean winchester#wincest#spn meta in tags lmfao#supernatural#mine
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this is from a real article
#I’m loving the implication that like#he’s SO tall that he has trouble defending himself#somebody might just push him over like a jenga tower#spn#sam winchester#supernatural#my post
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he eated the mooon!!
#jeffrey dean morgan#jdm#negan#john winchester#HE'S SOOO#i feel so normal about this#this picture specifically#like kinda impure thoughts but also he's such a dork???#deff the type to post a picture 'pushing' the pisa tower over#someone called him booktok boyfriend and i just
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Supernatural s6 e2
Dean, Ben, and Lisa are moving. Ben doesn't like it. Sam hunting with gpa who sucks at technology. Ben wants to learn to shoot, Dean would rather he never ever learns. Dean is being a bit too protective of Lisa and Ben. I love seeing Sam work alone, even if it's just for a bit. SAM DID YOU STEAL A BABY. Again Lisa is a queen, I feel for her, she's so understanding. Dean is such a dad. "Bobby John" "give me the baby before I stab you in the neck". Sam holds the baby like a football. Dean with a baby ❤, then him saying he sees Ben as his kid. Then Sam saying Dean is treating Ben and Lisa like John treated them, oof. The shapeshifter is the baby's Daddy, so the baby is a shifter too. Dean is protective of the baby. Dean doesn't trust his family. The shapeshifter is the king shapeshifter, that can't be killed. Why does Samuel keep catching monsters instead of hunting? Something off with him. Lisa is telling Dean to have a work life balance, hunting and their family, Again Queen 👑. BABY IS BACK ON THE ROAD!
#batcavescolony watches#batcavescolony watches supernatural#supernatural#dean yelling at ben 😭😭😭#like i 100% get why dean is being overprotective but also you cant put them in a tower and hide them from the world#lisa braeden#ben braeden#dean winchester#sam winchester#samuel campbell#lisa is like a soldiers wife at this point#sam: dean make it [the baby] stop#dean: HOW?#baby: *crying*#dean: *mimics crying*#DEAN! don't feed the baby alcohol#sam: not all hunters are head cases samuel us alot like you#dean: IM A head case!#to be fair we have yet to meet a hunter that was also a good parent. ellen maybe but she wasnt a hunter while raising jo.
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Peppino probably makes the kind of pizza that's just kind of okay, but you get that pizza for the rest of your life because it's priced good, and one can really taste the dedication (blood of his enemies) peppino is probably very proud of his establishment, and it shows in every slice.
I also like the idea that he kept fake peppino with him, and in my head he puts the same amount of dedication into pizza he helps make or makes himself. And it's good pizza too. Maybe not real peppino level, but good.
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Very nice, implies peppino handled pizza with his bare hand previously.
Not surprised.
Yuppie I finished another comic!
I hope you enjoy it as much as the last one :]
he is about to explode
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In fact, I imagine that Peppino will use potholders, but he will save the apron for some important events, because most likely he will never have a more beautiful one..
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Tag Dump #3: Male Muses
Let's get these guys tagged.
#The Music Man: {Poet Kit Macy}#The Clown Prince of Crime: {Jack Napier/The Joker}#The Devil Knocking at Your Door: {Daryl Van Horne}#The Far-Away Prince: {Cinderella's Prince/Garrett}#The Climber of Towers: {Rapunzel's Prince/Poet}#The One Who Huffs and Puffs: {Will Wolf/The Big Bad Wolf}#The Badass Big Bad Wolf: {Dax Wolfsbane/The Big Bad Wolf}#The Well-dressed Wolf: {Roman Wolfson/The Big Bad Wolf}#The New Kid on the Block: {Ben Hanscom}#The Moose of a Hunter: {Sam Winchester}#The Brooding Billionaire: {Bruce Wayne/Batman}#The Original Brooding Bat: {Louis de Pointe du Lac}#The Helpful Hologram: {Otto J. Mann/Automan}#The Duality of Man: {Henry Jekyll/Edward Hyde}#The Literal Love Child: {John 'Johnnie' Winchestorrance}#The Spoiled Prince in a Shining Castle: {Adam/The Beast}#The Hotel Hothead Divergent: {Danny 'Dan' Torrance}#The Junior Hotel Hothead: {Jack Torrance Junior}#The Vampiric Librarian: {Lenox Thomas}#The Ghost With the Most: {Lawerence Shaggoth/Beetlejuice}#The Plus-Sized Male Model: {Cassius 'Cas' Holmes}#The Vampire with a Dad Bod: {Hunter Lazarus}#The Vampire Next Door: {Jerry Dandridge}#The Angelic Cowboy: {Angel Michael Alverez-Mitchell}#The Jerkface Brother: {Max Dennison}#The Champion Wrestler of Smoky Mountain: {Jodie Tatum}#The Himbo Next Door: {Johnny Bravo}
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i got you — sam winchester ꒦꒷ kinktober day five ; size kink
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cw : gn!afab!reader, smut, inexperienced!reader, it's their first time together, reader described as generally smaller than sam, sam calls reader pretty & beautiful, pet names (baby, love, honey, darling), kissing, marking, lil bit of biting, praise, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don't try at home sillies), poorly edited, 4.1K words. MDNI !!! 18+ ONLY.
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the moment that sam splays his hands on your waist, you know that you’re done for. his hands are so goddamn big and with him so close it feels like he’s just towering over you. he’s trying to be gentle and soft, but the way his hands tense and squeeze lightly at your sides tells you that he’s holding back already. what’ll it be like when he has you naked and splayed out on the bed?
that’s what he’s thinking about. when he kisses you, long, hard, and deep, and you moan softly into it, he’s already going crazy. he really can’t help but walk you back into the wall and kiss you against it. and when your back arches as he pushes his hand into the small of your back? he’s practically at war with himself. he wonders how the hell he’ll be able to go soft and slow like he wants his first time with you to be when you’re already tugging at his loosely tethered control.
he reaches up, smoothing soft knuckles over your cheek bone as he parts to give you both a moment to breathe. just a second ago, he practically had his tongue down your throat and you had whined around it and he had gripped your sides. and your hands, soft and small against his body had roamed his waist and chest. now the pads of your fingers press into the skin where his broad shoulders curve up into his neck and it’s driving him up the wall.
sam presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth as you pant lightly. “you still alright, honey?” he whispers against your skin. you tilt your head to press your lips back over his, softly this time. you hum a quiet yes.
“‘m perfect, love,” you murmur. you can actually feel his lips stretch into a soft smile before he presses another sweet kiss to your lips.
“can i take you to the bed now?” he asks sweetly, voice still hushed.
you think you could melt right into the floorboards. “please.” he doesn’t hesitate then, sliding his hands down until he’s got his fingers wrapped around the backside of your thighs. when he said take, you didn’t know he meant that literally, but you certainly don’t complain when he hauls you up and wraps your legs around his waist. you gasp in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. “sam.” his name escapes your lips naturally, and he has the audacity to grin at you as he walks you over to the bed.
he sets you down on the side gently, though he likes the idea of flat out throwing you onto the bed someday. he’s just that much bigger than you, and he’s going to want to take full advantage of it.
you’re slow in your movements as you slide your arms away from his neck, unable to hold back your own smile in response to his. he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, and when he leans back a bit and reopens his eyes, he realizes that your hands have drifted to the hem of your shirt. silently, his breath catches in his throat and he watches you pull the garment off. he can’t help but stare, certainly not when your chest still visibly rises and falls with labored breath.
he only remembers to pull off his own shirt when his gaze flicks up to catch your eyes hungrily staring at the way his chest stretches out the grey fabric. you think if you look at his bare torso long enough, you’ll start drooling, so you lay back against the pillows and meet his eyes instead, inviting him closer.
and in an instant, sam is all over you, his body, his hands. his hips are pressed over yours and he’s hard. he’s hard and he’s big; you can easily tell. and you expected nothing more, but to feel it against your own crotch, hot and in the flesh, is like an awakening. whether said awakening is rude or glorious, you’re unsure. maybe it’s both. glorious because wow, and rude because how are you going to fit it all?
but there’s not much time to think about that when his lips are back on yours, his warm hands are on your bare waist, and then he’s kissing down your jaw.
everything about your first time with him is gentle and hungry all at once. the way he sucks at your skin is soft, and he doesn’t bite very hard, but he does bite. his teeth on your neck make you moan sweetly and he can never get enough. next time he’ll see if you like it when he bites to mark. tonight, he’ll just suckle and lick until you lightly bruise.
and then there’s his hands, his fingertips that push into the plush of your skin and roam over the fabric of your bra, and his wide palms and calluses that catch on and smooth over you skin. he touches like he worships you and he touches like you’re his. he envelopes your skin with his and he squeezes, but never too hard. he spends most of his energy holding back.
your own hands slide up the expanse of his back and you imagine how small they look on his shoulder blades, which stretch out so wide and broad. you feel the dips and grooves of his muscles, and the softer bits of flesh by his hips, right above the waistline of his jeans. and his chest. it’s so damn wide, softer than you expect when you palm at it. he groans against the column of your neck and the sound sends a shiver through you.
he works you up like there’s nothing to it, like it’s his damn mission. he whispers and grunts out all sorts of things that send your heart racing, the blood to your cheeks, and a rush of heat to your belly.
you’re so damn pretty. you sound so nice for me. i love you, baby. so small underneath me.
when he says that, you groan real loud and he takes notice. those words had been almost accidental. they had just slipped out, but it was the loudest thing in his mind when he opened his mouth to say something sweet.
“yeah?” he murmurs against your skin. “you like bein’ smaller than me?” he doesn’t intend to tease or to be mean tonight, but he really can’t help it. maybe because he likes it just as much as you do. he damn loves it.
you let out a small, muffled sound and he knows his words are getting to you. “i do,” you whisper, voice hoarse and the slightest bit bashful. his hands on your ribs tighten, and he gives the meat of your shoulder a good nip.
“just a tiny thing compared to me, huh?” he mumbles, tilting his head so that his breath tickles the shell of your ear. you let out a puff of air, struggling with your composure.
your face and neck warm considerably at his words. you wonder if he can feel the heat of all that rushing blood under your skin. you’re not used to hearing these kinds of words, the kind that makes you all hot and flustered and beyond turned on. you don’t quite know how to respond, so you just say whatever your dazed mind comes up with. “you’re so big,” you huff out.
sam presses his face into your neck, groaning lowly at those words. he doesn’t think that’s the last time you’ll be saying them tonight.
“yeah, baby,” he murmurs before giving your skin a good little lick. like he knows he’s so big. like all of him is big. like he’s secretly got an ego about it. gosh, you just might die tonight.
you don’t realize what you’re doing until sam moans into the skin of your neck again, low and pleasured. his hand slides up a little, grabbing at your chest over your bra as if he’s trying to hold onto something so that he can hold back. then you register that you’ve begun to roll your hips up into his. it’s not fair you’re already so hazy with lust that your body’s started to move on its own accord. you’re just chasing whatever feels best in the moment, and right now it’s his bulging hard-on right over your clothed cunt.
you want his cock bad, and when you push up against him with more intent, sam knows it.
“hold on, baby.” his voice is gruff, and his other hand slides down to carefully pin your hips to the bed. he shifts up, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. then he looks you in the eyes, and you wonder how someone’s gaze could be so soft and adoring while also screaming i want to fuck you stupid. you wish he’d fuck you stupid, but you’re also glad he’s being all gentle and sweet. “i’ll give you anything you want tonight, but i gotta get you ready first, okay?”
he says it all soft because he really means it. he’ll give you anything at all. but the implications of his words send you reeling because it means that he just knows you won’t be able to take him right away.
“m’kay,” you breathe out, trying not to shy away from his gaze.
he’s so perfect, it’s hard to believe he’s real. he smiles at you, then asks if he can take the rest of your clothes off. you agree eagerly, pulling your bra off yourself and lifting your hips to help him with your pants and underwear. and then he looks at you like you’re the finest, most stunning thing he’s ever seen, and ever will see.
sam kisses down your body. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into the skin of your belly. “so, so beautiful.” he looks up at you when he says it, voice and eyes full of true awe. he’s practically enthralled by you. he loves you so damn much.
he takes his sweet time, dipping his hand between your legs, swiping lightly at your slit before rubbing softly over your sensitive nub.
you gasp out and he hums contentedly, intertwining the fingers of his free hand through yours.
he wants to make a comment about how wet you are. you’re honest to god soaked. but he thinks it might make you feel a little too shy, so he holds back. instead he just whispers, “i got you.”
and he does. he has you. you’re so ready to give your all to him. you’re not so nervous anymore. not that you ever were all that nervous because it’s sam, but all he does is make you feel loved and good. his rough finger pads, all careful and skilled on your pretty clit, already have you sighing back into the pillows, your breath quickening and hips eager.
he pulls soft moans from you, holding your hand tenderly and tightly. “that’s it, baby,” he says. “so pretty.” he talks all soft and sweet, words blending with each other like he’s got a million praises that he’s got to get out.
when you squeeze his hand real tight, wrap your other fingers around his bicep, and buck your hips up towards him, he reads you easily.
“you want more, love?” he asks, just to be sure. he’d hate to rush you. but he’s right, and you nod eagerly.
“please,” you huff softly. he’s got you. he’s all delicate and steady when his middle finger prods at your entrance, slipping in slowly so as to not overwhelm you. the second that he’s knuckle deep, it’s already something new and better than ever. you’ve never been with anyone who had such perfect, long fingers. the difference between yours and his is clear and noticeable and already you feel like he’s so deep inside you.
sam would do anything to be able to bottle up the noise that you make and drink from it every night. he’d never need beer or whiskey every again. and this would be so much sweeter and far more potent than any alcohol he could buy. he’s quick to lean over and kiss you on the lips. otherwise, he’d truly just go insane.
you’re so warm and wet around his thick finger, your walls fluttering and just perfect to him. he needs his dick in you.
he starts to move and your lips part against his, letting the sweetest sounds out. “god, you sound so pretty,” he groans. he loves to hear you. so instead of feeling a little sheepish about how easily he makes you moan and whine, you let him hear it all.
and when he gently adds that second finger, your moan is choked and desperate. sam thinks that your voice alone could get him there. his cock throbs in his jeans, the restriction practically painful at this point. but he ignores it because you’re clenching around his fingers, sucking him in so good.
“s-so big,” you pant out. “your fingers are so big,” you groan.
sam curses softly under his breath. “you’re takin’em so good, baby. doin’ so good,” he praises, still tender as he pushes in and out of you until he easily finds that spongey spot in you. your back arches right off the bed and your moans jump in volume. he brushes his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. “that’s it,” hey croons quietly, giving a little groan of his own.
“you’ll let me make you cum on my fingers, yeah?” he asks gruffly. you’re not sure why he even asks, because who in their right mind would ever turn that down?
“g-gah, ah, yes,” you moan breathlessly. “p-please.” you sound a little desperate and rushed, like you’re worried about that not happening.
“okay, i will,” he assures you, “i will, baby, don’t worry. i got you.” he kisses your cheek like you’re the most precious thing in the world. to him, you are. and he fingerfucks you like he’s never wanted to make someone feel so good this badly. that very well could be true too. he’s attentive, sweet, and gets so deep.
he’s kissing up and down your neck and jaw when he feels and hears your stuttering breaths, needy moans, and lightly trembling, twitching legs. your hand glides up from his bicep to the back of his neck, tangling with the soft hair there and pressing into his skin.
“i got you,” he says again, meaning it with his everything as your thighs tense around his forearm. “so good. you feel so good, darlin’. such a pretty pussy, baby.”
“oh, god,” you choke out, absolutely clutching at him wherever you can to uselessly stay grounded. “gonna cum, sammy.”
sam knows better than anything that those words tumbling from your mouth is the best thing he’s ever heard. he could combust from how cute you are, how fucking good you sound like this. and he really can’t help but go just a little faster, a little harder. “yeah, baby? you’re gettin’ close, huh? i got you.” he wants you to know it.
“mhmm,” you hum, voice turned all whiny and breathless. “gonna cum!”
“okay,” he grunts, still trying to sound nice and sweet for you. “go ahead and cum for me. cum for me, honey. whenever you need, baby, i’ve got you.” so easily, his words tip you right over the edge.
you grip his hand and the back of his neck, panting and moaning loudly as you just soak his fingers. and he wants to keep his face buried in your neck to kiss and lick and whisper praises into your skin, but he has to see your face as he makes you cum for the first time.
“oh, god, baby, you look so pretty. so good f’me,” he groans, practically high himself off the way you look and sound. then, he plants his face back into your neck, kissing and sucking as he keeps crooking his fingers inside you, working you through it so good, drawing out the pleasure for you as long as he can. he only stops when you go almost limp against the bed, breathing heavily still, but quieter now. the shudder he gets from you when he pulls his fingers out is satisfying and so cute that he can’t help but coo at you softly. “that’s it, darling. you did so good.”
he gently untangles his hand from yours, just so he can smooth his palm over the side of your face. he kisses the side of your mouth and stays quiet and slow as you catch your breath.
you turn your head a little. “so good,” you mumble into the skin of his cheek. “made me feel so good, sammy.”
“i’m always gonna make you feel good,” he replies with ease and assurance. “you deserve it.” if your face weren’t already as hot with pleasure as it could get, your cheeks would flush with heat at those words, the bashful and in love kind of heat. you want to say thank you, but you’re pretty sure he’ll tell you not to. he wants to make you feel good. he loves it.
you tug him down a little, and he settles on the bed, half of his body pressed right over yours as he nuzzles his nose into the warm skin of your neck. that’s when you’re reminded of his raging hard-on; it presses right into your thigh. you’re quiet about it for just one minute in order to relax and catch your breath, like you know sam would want you to. but you just want him even more than before, so the second you feel like you can, you squeeze your hands into the tight space between your bodies and lightly fumble with the button of his jeans.
he turns his body to make room, but stops you with gentle fingers around your waist. “hey,” he murmurs. “it’s alright. just breathe a minute, baby.” you give him a little smile, then peck his lips.
“i did breathe a minute,” you counter, voice just as soft as his own. “’m ready.”
he holds back a low groan. “you sure?”
“i’m sure,” you breathe, nodding a little. you’re really, really sure.
he relents, loosening his hold on your wrist as an invitation to keep going. “alright.” his fingers don’t leave your wrist though, staying wrapped around you to feel it as you undo his pants. after that, he helps you with the rest, taking care of getting his boxers and jeans all the way off and to the floor.
sam stays settled on the bed next to you, not moving over you to start quite yet. he still wants to go slow, even with the dribble of milky white precum on his tip and the fact that he’s as hard and turned on as he’s ever been.
and it’s there, heavy, hot, and so goddamn big as it rests on the flesh of your thigh. it’s your turn to hold back a moan. you can’t help but stare a little. if feeling his cock against you, stuck in the confines of his jeans was like an awakening, seeing it sit on your thigh must be an entire revelation. or something like that. you’re unsure, because you’re not really thinking much right now. it’s just that question again. how are you gonna fit it all?
of course, sam sees you staring. you look as if the sight of his cock alone is making you overwhelmed. you look like you want him to fuck you silly with it. and you look like you wanna touch.
“you can touch me, baby,” he murmurs, trying to sound more reassuring rather than completely gone for you. your eyes flick up to his, looking a little flustered. you’ll tell him to stop if you need. he knows that, so he takes your smaller hand in his and guides it over to his rock-hard dick. the moment you’re close enough, you wrap your fingers around it. his breath stutters and his own hand shifts back to loosely hold your wrist. then you slowly push your hand up and down his length, causing him to suck in a sharp breath and let out a guttural groan.
you don’t really know what you’re doing, but you’re pretty sure that’s okay. you know he doesn’t intend to make you get him off like this, not tonight. you’ll ask him to teach you how to do it just right some other time. you just wanna touch it. feel how hot and heavy it is in your hand, imagine what it’ll be like in your pulsing cunt. you’re aching for him again already. his hips twitch and he moans a little louder when you swipe your thumb over his tip to feel his precum and rub it all over.
“fuck, baby,” he curses, voice strained and dangerously quiet. you realize you’re practically teasing him like this, so you hesitantly pull your hand away and look at him with pretty eyes.
“’m ready now. please, sammy.” you know he’ll give in if you ask like that. it takes the blink of an eye for his all encompassing body to hover right over yours again. he kisses you, not so gentle this time. it’s all tongue and teeth, and short lived, because he has to feel you.
you whine softly when he takes his dick in his hand and slowly rubs the tip between your slick lips. he presses it over your clit just to make you jolt a little in pleasure. then he lines it up with your leaking hole and stills, looking you in the eye with an impressively sincere expression plastered over his features.
“you gotta tell me if it’s too much, baby,” he urges you, voice filled with such genuine care that just makes you want to be filled with his cock more than ever, “promise you’ll tell me if it starts to hurt, or you wanna stop, or anything at all, okay?”
“i promise,” you nod, chest heaving a little with labored breath.
“good,” he breathes out, his voice pulled tight again. “okay, baby. just breathe. try to relax.” you do your best to just that, focusing on your breath as he slowly pushes into you, his big hand tightly holding your waist. he hisses through his teeth and you mewl.
he soaks in the sight of your eyes rolling back, your jaw going slack, and your hands flying to grip the sheets. he’d bathe in the sight if he could. he stops just after the tip and you’re already panting. you’ve barely taken any of him, but he’s so thick. you can’t believe how damn full you’re going to feel.
“o-oh, fuck,” you whine, “sammy. you’re so big.” there are those words again, so fucking pretty tumbling out from your parted lips.
“i know, baby,” he groans, “it’s okay. you’re doin’ so good, you feel so fucking good.” he’s not over exagerrating. he’s giving you a minute to get used to this new feeling of something so thick and hot inside of you, and to have your warm cunt throbbing around just his tip is so good, he thinks he could cum just like this if he let himself. instead, he pushes in a little more when he thinks it’s alright.
the way you moan is broken and heavenly. already, he knows it’s gonna be too much for you. “that’s it. i got you, baby,” he says anyway. his restraint is held up by a thread, but he’ll keep it together. just for you, for his baby. sam gives you another long moment, one big hand caressing up and down your side while the other holds your hips steady.
“m-more, please,” you whine. god, he’s newly obsessed with the way you get a little brainless and whiny when he has you like this.
"you sure you can take it?" sam rumbles.
"we can make it fit," you pant out. he groans, overcome for a moment with the urge to just take you.
"yeah," he grunts, no longer schooling his words to be sweet and gentle for you. "yeah, we can make it fit, baby." his voice is so low, it's practically a growl. "we can make it fit," he echoes again, the way you said those words like a damn drug to him. the look in his eyes is so full of lust that it's practically dazed. he looks like he's going to devour you whole.
tonight, he knows you can't really make it fit. he's gonna inch his way into you until you’re too full to take any more. he’s guessing you’ll make it halfway. so he’ll make you cum on half his length and it's gonna be so hot to him that when he pulls out and sees your sweet liquids dripping from your stretched out hole, he's gonna cum in thick, hot spurts all over your cute tummy.
but eventually, you'll make it fit.
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TAGLIST
⟢ SPN; general (all supernatural fics, including nsfw so your age must be 18+ and visible on your blog) : @toadspondofwhimsy ; @mxltifxnd0m ; @bloodysammy ; @angelicjackles ; @ohsc ; @chevroletdean ; @prentissluvr .
⟢ kinktober : @this-is-me19 ; @ponygyatt ; @tranquilitybasegrunge ; @anu-piyakya97 ; @yeyrpp2 ; @maeve-24 ; @i-luvsang .
send an ask / dm to be added !
#. >> kinktober '24 !#sam winchester smut#sam winchester x reader#supernatural smut#sam winchester x gn!reader#supernatural#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester suggestive#sam winchester x you#sam winchester#sam winchester drabble#supernatural headcanon#sam winchester supernatural#sam winchester headcanon#supernatural suggestive#spn sam winchester#kinktober
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#it's really funny how some fans take SPN (as a whole or a stretch of it) and instead of having fun with the shades of grey and complexities #inherent to the series and aided by how we approach it (whose POV we focus on and/or our own baggage/interests/etc) #insist on just picking heroes and villains. victims and abusers. right and wrong. #and will not be moved from that #bonus points when they also talk about how Supernatural is so bad #is it though? or is it you erasing all nuance and confusing fanfiction and headcanons with actual plot points and scenes hmm? #anyway Mary's story/arc through the show is great and her dynamic with Dean is delicious (via @ironworked)
#amen #dean and mary #they let both of them be complicated #and a huge swath of fandom cannot handle that #no one is to blame #dean doesn't ask for anything that's unfair to her #mary's actions are grounded in mary's exigencies #its so good actually #dean is great actually? #he is very very kind and compassionate towards her despite how it hurts him? #and she is a decade younger than him #thrown into this insane situation with her adult sons #and isn't reduced to motherhood #i love her #i love him #they are doing their best #to learn what they need to learn to transform #while cosmic entities who fundamentally don't understand the thing that makes them tick #(LOVE) #play dolls with them (via @wellofdean)
i think it's just really frustrating to me how it feels like in the dean & mary dynamic people are always looking for someone to blame? like i am not a mary crit! i love and support her! her life has been fucking crazy and awful and she has had very little control over what happens to her and i'm certainly not saying i think there's some easy thing i can see that she should have done or anything!
but dean just really does handle that insane situation that he's also dumped in in like... a pretty healthy way all things considered. to the point where in season 12, he's doing a LOT of talking through his feelings and asking for help processing them (12.02 convo with cas eg) in all the ways everyone often criticizes him for not doing? but because his feelings are complicated and involve understanding why mary's doing what she's doing but also being hurt by it and sometimes expressing that.... then.... idk it's bad?
i feel like we could be talking about how sad and impossible a situation they are both in and how they are both trying to navigate it as best they can. and how mary specifically lacks so much context around how her actions are hurting dean. and dean is trying to communicate with her without dumping years and years of trauma off on her.
like i don't know it really frustrates me to make posts about season 12 and get them filled up with mary crit that talks about her being just as bad as john (hisss i am in your walls) but ALSO it really frustrates me when it feels like the corrective course some people take on that is blaming dean?
#not my worst fandom experience with puerile people thinking they're morally superior for always having to blame *someone*#but it really does feel like I'm up in my ivory tower thriving sipping tea with all you who get it#(also people who think the show is bad just can't analyze worth a damn I said what I said)#dean winchester#mary winchester#spn meta#wank adjacent
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03
parings: married!deanwinchester x married!reader
synopsis: hunting w your husband and his brother
warnings: no smut
the smell of melted butter and sugar hung heavy in the air, the oven kicking out waves of heat that made the kitchen toasty in the early morning chill. you stood at the counter, hair messy and still slightly damp from your shower, rolling dough between your hands into perfect little spheres. chocolate chips poked out here and there, their glossy, dark surfaces promising a burst of sweetness when they finally hit the road.
behind you, the sound of boots scuffing against hardwood meant sam was up, his towering shadow cutting across the warm light spilling from the kitchen window.
“you’re baking… cookies?” sam asked, his voice tinged with that distinct tone of incredulous disbelief he always got when you and dean did something domestic. “at six in the morning? before a hunt?”
you didn’t even turn around, biting back a grin as you placed another dough ball on the baking sheet. “good morning to you too, sam.”
dean’s voice cut through before sam could respond, a low, gravelly drawl that somehow managed to sound teasing even when he was half-asleep. “yeah, sammy. cookies. you got a problem with cookies?”
dean strolled into the kitchen behind his brother, barefoot and shirtless, his jeans slung low on his hips and his hair sticking up in every direction. he scratched lazily at his chest as he made his way toward you, leaning down to press a kiss to the curve of your neck. the warm scrape of his stubble sent a little shiver dancing down your spine, and you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched into a smile.
“morning, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin.
“morning,” you replied softly, nudging him with your elbow as he reached for the raw dough on the baking sheet. “don’t even think about it.”
dean groaned dramatically, his hand retreating but not before he snagged a stray chocolate chip from the counter and popped it into his mouth. “what? you’re gonna bake cookies and not let me taste test?”
“you can taste test when they’re done,” you said firmly, wagging the wooden spoon in your hand at him like a teacher scolding a naughty student. “now go get dressed. we’ve got a long drive ahead.”
dean didn’t move, though. instead, he leaned against the counter beside you, arms crossed over his bare chest, and gave you a look—a look that said he had no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. his green eyes sparkled with that signature winchester mischief, his smirk cocky and playful as he nodded toward the cookies.
“you’re making cookies for the hunt?” he asked, clearly amused but not the least bit judgmental.
“and packing lunch,” you added, tilting your head toward the cooler on the floor by the fridge. “peanut butter sandwiches, chips, apples, the works.”
sam’s eyebrows shot up, his gaze bouncing between you and the cooler like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “you’re… packing lunch? for a hunt? like we’re going on a field trip or something?”
dean’s laugh was a low rumble in his chest, and he clapped a hand on sam’s shoulder. “that’s my wife,” he said, his voice full of pride as he gave you a wink. “she keeps us fed so we don’t have to live off gas station burritos and crappy diner coffee.”
sam rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about how he was perfectly fine with diner coffee, but he didn’t argue further. he knew better than to question your methods when it came to taking care of dean—and by extension, him.
the impala hummed beneath you as dean drove, one hand on the wheel and the other casually resting on your thigh. the cooler sat snugly in the backseat beside sam, who had already polished off one of the peanut butter sandwiches you’d packed despite his earlier skepticism.
“i still can’t believe you brought cookies,” sam muttered, his mouth full of crumbs as he reached for another one.
“yeah, and look who’s eating them,” you shot back, twisting in your seat to give him a pointed look. “you’re welcome, by the way.”
dean chuckled, squeezing your thigh gently as he glanced over at you. “see, this is why i married you. cookies and sandwiches. you’re a damn saint, sweetheart.”
“is that the only reason?” you teased, arching a brow at him.
“oh, there’s plenty of reasons,” he said, flashing you that cocky grin that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. “but the cookies definitely sealed the deal.”
“you’re ridiculous,” you said, laughing as you leaned into his shoulder, the familiar scent of leather and aftershave wrapping around you like a second skin.
“you love me,” he replied without missing a beat, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your leg.
and he was right. you did.
the hunt itself was nothing special—a small town, a restless spirit, a salt-and-burn. but the memory of that morning, of dean stealing cookie dough when he thought you weren’t looking and sam begrudgingly admitting that the sandwiches were “actually pretty good,” stayed with you long after the ghost was gone.
because for all the danger, all the chaos, and all the nights spent wondering if you’d make it back in one piece, it was mornings like that—messy, loud, and full of warmth—that made it all worth it. it was about the little moments, the stolen smiles, the way dean’s hand never left yours when the job was done.
and yeah, maybe it was also about the cookies.
taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis
#dulce's garden#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester imagine#dean x reader#dean winchester angst#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean x you#dean x y/n
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I’d LOVE to request a Dean X reader x Sam moment where the boys are flustering the reader with stuff like “you know we wouldn’t make you choose” or “we know how to share/play nice with each other” meanwhile there’s like a two-seater roller coaster ride or something similar where the reader has to pick one of them, and it’s totally an inconsequential choice. Lots of love to you~ 💜💜💜
*ੈ🎡‧₊˚ funfair,
summary. when the ride only has space for two, you have to choose a winchester .ᐟ
pairing. dean winchester x reader x sam winchester
wordcount. 828
notes. i just imagined dean screaming like he did when that kittycat jumped out of the locker throughout this whole thing. sam's doing just fine, as long as you stay clear of the clowns though ehe
You stare at the two-seater roller coaster car, already regretting your decision to come to the amusement park with Sam and Dean. It seemed like a good idea at the time—some fun, some laughs, maybe even some cotton candy. But now? Now you’re stuck in a standoff between the Winchester brothers.
Sam crosses his arms, his towering frame making him look like a giant among the crowd. “You don’t have to decide, you know. We’re adults.”
Dean is on your right, smirking with the kind of confidence that only comes from years of being a pain in your behind. “Who’s it gonna be?”
Your stomach flips, and it has nothing to do with the ride. “It’s just a roller coaster,” you mumble, trying to downplay the situation. “I don’t see why this is such a big deal.”
“Oh, it’s a big deal,” Dean says, leaning in a little closer. “Once you pick, there’s no going back. No take-backs, no second chances.”
“Dean,” Sam says, his tone dripping with fake patience, “stop messing with her.”
Dean shrugs. “What? I’m just saying. It’s a defining moment.”
You roll your eyes. “You two are ridiculous.”
Sam steps closer, looking down at you with those puppy-dog eyes that always seem to see right through you. “You know you don’t have to choose, right?” His voice is soft, like he’s trying to soothe you.
“Yeah,” Dean adds, grinning. “We’re good at sharing.”
You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Oh my God, you’re both impossible.”
Sam chuckles, his warm laugh making your stomach flip. “Don’t let him pressure you. You can pick whoever you want.” He shoots Dean a look. “We’re not actually making you choose between us.”
Dean raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Aren’t we, though?”
Sam sighs, shaking his head. “No. We’re not.”
Dean’s attention swings back to you, his tone low and teasing. “Look, sweetheart, you know I’m the obvious choice. We’d have a blast. I mean, do you really want to sit next to Mr. Stoic over here?”
Sam rolls his eyes, unfazed. “And do you want to sit next to someone who screams louder than the ride itself?”
“I do not scream,” Dean says, looking genuinely offended. “That’s enthusiasm.”
“Sure it is,” Sam replies, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
You watch the two of them, the heat rising to your face as their banter gets more ridiculous. Finally, you throw up your hands. “Alright, that’s it. I’m not picking. You two are going to play rock-paper-scissors for it.”
Dean blinks at you. “What?”
Sam smirks. “That’s fair. I’m in.”
Dean groans, dragging a hand down his face. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Rock-paper-scissors?”
“Yes,” you say firmly, crossing your arms. “One round. Winner gets to ride with me.”
Dean sighs but holds up a fist. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
Sam does the same, his expression calm but determined. “Ready?”
You count them down. “One, two, three—shoot!”
Dean throws scissors. Sam throws paper.
Dean whoops, throwing his arms in the air like he’s just won the Super Bowl. “Yes! Victory is mine.”
Sam rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, stepping back to let Dean bask in his glory. You shake your head, biting back a laugh. “Alright, champ, let’s get on the ride before I change my mind.”
Dean grins, holding out a hand to help you into the car. “See? This is why I’m the fun one.”
As you settle into the seat beside him, Sam takes his place in the car behind you. “You better not regret your decision,” he calls out teasingly.
Dean smirks, leaning close to you. “She won’t.”
The ride starts with a jerk, climbing the first hill as the tension builds. Dean’s enthusiasm is infectious, and despite yourself, you find your nerves giving way to excitement.
But as soon as the first drop hits, Dean’s enthusiasm turns into what can only be described as a full-on yell. It’s not a scream—he’s right about that—but it’s loud enough to make you laugh so hard you almost miss the twists and turns of the track.
When the ride finally screeches to a halt, Dean is grinning ear to ear, his hair mussed and his face flushed. “Told you I’m the best ride partner.”
Sam, stepping off his car behind you, arches an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because from here, it sounded like you were auditioning for a horror movie.”
Dean glares at him. “That’s called enjoying life, Sam.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you walk between them. “You’re both ridiculous.”
Dean slings an arm over your shoulder, his grin softening as he looks down at you. “Yeah, but you love us anyway.”
Sam steps to your other side, his warm gaze making your heart flutter. “Next time, I’m winning that game. You’re riding with me.”
Dean snorts. “Dream on.”
The three of you wander toward the next attraction, their playful bickering continuing as your laughter echoes through the park.
want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas
#dean winchester#sam winchester#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#sam winchester x you#dean winchester fic#sam winchester fic#supernatural#.docx#.req
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