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#i will be doing the sam one to! i just gotta get to it
bitterkarella · 2 days
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Midnight Pals: Cool Kids
Sam Richard: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the cartoon with a satanic grimoire in it King: see, that's why we don't let dean watch tv Richard: oh you shouldn't do that Richard: kids gotta be free to explore Koontz: you guys stop talking about me like i'm not here
King: dean it's for your own good Koontz: stop it! i'm not just some little kid! King: i don't know where he gets this King: he's been so willful lately King: he's been hanging out with that grady hendrix kid too much King: a bad influence if you ask me
Grady Hendrix: [jumping sick flip on skateboard] Koontz: wowwwww Hendrix: hey dean you wanna hang out behind the school and put on some sunglasses Koontz: i Koontz: i don't think i'm supposed to do that
Hendrix: what's the matter dean? you chicken? Koontz: no! I'm not chicken! Hendrix: all the cool kids are doing it Koontz: what?? Koontz: well if all the cool kids are doing it, it can't be wrong Hendrix: the first pair is free
Koontz: [wearing sunglasses] hey guys King: Dean Raymond Koontz!! What is THAT on your face? Koontz: nothin' King: are you wearing sunglasses? Koontz: Koontz: maybe King: well you can take those off right now mister
Koontz: you can't make me Koontz: you're not my dad! King: that's RIGHT, dean King: because my boy joe would NEVER do something this irresponsible King: my boy joe is good as gold! Joe Hill: dad please stop
Barker: pfft c'mon steve let him live a little King: this might not seem like a big deal to you clive King: but today it's sunglasses King: tomorrow it's a leather jacket!
Koontz: neil gaiman wore a leather jacket in his author photo King: that's different King: he's an adult King: leather jackets can be worn in moderation by responsible adults
Mary Shelley: sup fuckers Barker: go ahead dean show mary your new look Koontz: [wearing sunglasses] Shelley: Shelley: ahahahaha Shelley: fucking hell yeah
Koontz: [wearing sunglasses] watch out everyone i'm a real no goodnik Koontz: so you better watch out!! Koontz: i'm one bad banana!! Shelley: ha ha oh my god Shelley: did you teach him to say that Barker: no he just came up with it himself! Shelley: ha ha that's wild Barker: i know right??
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pagannatural · 17 hours
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2.09 Croatoan
-my beloved
-The brothers go to Oregon because Sam has a vision of Dean shooting someone who pleads for his life.
-Sam thinks Dean is violent and out of control because of his grief but he’s actually violent and out of control because he’s losing his mind over Sam.
-Sam looks very Scared Little Brother when they realize the town has no phone signal. He stands really close to Dean. Sam is right. I forgot how scary this episode is.
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-Sam hesitates to kill the son who had the mom tied up, and Dean berates him. Dean calls the son a “monster” and Sam says “it was a kid.” Dean likes a clean line between monster and human.
-Sam is always the one who comforts the victims and tells people everything will be okay, another way in which his role in the relationship is traditionally feminine. He’s the one women find non-threatening. (And he’s too distracted by Dean to be attracted to them).
-When the mom, Beverly, says “one minute they were my husband and my son and the next they had the devil in them” the camera cuts to Sam and Dean. This line could be Dean describing a blood-drinking Sam: one minute he was my husband and my son and the next he had the devil in him.
-One of the armed men blocking the road out of town asks Dean to get out of the car to “talk a little,” and Dean says “you are a handsome devil but I don’t swing that way, sorry.” It’s easy to forget that in the early 2000s, this kind of throwaway joke on network tv didn’t usually hint at a character’s hidden sexuality, it was just a vaguely biphobic little joke. But I do think there’s a reason it’s here.
The Croatoan virus is a demonic virus spread from blood infection that’s not visible just by looking at someone. So we have a little AIDS parallel. It’s also a similar concept to Sam’s demon blood. His blood represents choice and sin and the human mixed with the monstrous. Blood is also associated with family.
Incest and queerness are taboos that have often been conflated in fiction (and in history), and both have been strongly associated with monstrosity—think predatory sexuality, birth defects, infertility, rejection of the natural order. A desire that’s dangerous and wrong and destructive, that must stay hidden and can only survive in the shadows. The homoerotic incestuous monster hunters are the perfect storm of gothic queer horror.
Whether or not either brother is queer doesn’t affect the plot, and isn’t the point. I can see Dean grappling with being in love with Sam without questioning his sexuality at all. Sam is a category unto himself to Dean, and Sam doesn’t appear bothered about his sexuality aside from his feelings about Dean. But the confluence of these taboos—incest and queerness—with blood is central to the plot of the show and the question of what evil is. Really their love for each other and their shared blood is what saves them, keeps them human.
-Another of my absolute favorite underrated wincest moments is when Beverly is begging for her life from the utility room and Dean asks Sam “are you sure she’s one of them?” Sam barely nods and it’s enough for Dean to shoot her three times point blank. He doesn’t need any more information, just for Sam to nod slightly.
-Sam suggests that they need to leave to warn others of the virus and Dean tells him he has a good point. They respect each other’s input and work together well.
-Duane shows up and the situation becomes very tense. Sam is standing with his whole body facing Dean. In moments of extreme stress, Sam often seeks Dean’s protection rather than focusing on the threat.
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-Dean has a gun on Duane with some urgency but Sam says “I gotta talk to you—now” and Dean leaves the room with him immediately.
Sam argues that they should wait and not kill Duane in case he isn’t infected. Dean says “what’s that buy us?”
“A clear conscience, for one.”
“Well it’s too late for that.” Is Dean talking about his guilt over John’s death? Or is this more about his general self hatred around never being enough to be everything for everyone, to give Sam everything that he needs and be the perfect son and soldier and brother and father and mother?
Sam tells him “you don’t act like yourself anymore, Dean. You’re acting like one of those things out there.” Dean does feel lost. He needs Sam to save him so that he can save Sam.
-Sam is so devoted to Dean this season. He spent season 1 gradually giving into his complete trust and commitment to Dean and now he’s been losing him or at risk of losing him in different ways all season. He fights tooth and nail for Dean every step of the way to get him to listen, to talk, to come back to him.
-Dean pushes Sam out of the way and locks him out, aiming to kill Duane. He says “it’s not him, not any more” and “I’ve got no choice.” But then Dean decides not to shoot him.
-When the doctor asks if it’s alright to untie Duane, Dean and Sam seem to have a wordless conversation in which Dean defers to Sam’s judgement, and Sam tells the doctor it’s okay to untie him.
-Sam is Dean’s morality. Dean is submitting to Sam, needing him to help him make the right choice. By doing this he’s also believing in Sam’s ability to stay good.
-Sam says about Dean not killing Duane “you know I’m gonna ask you why.”
Dean replies “yeah I know,” not looking up, focusing on keeping his hands busy making Molotov cocktails.
“So why? Why didn’t you do it?”
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Dean looks at Sam with his chin tucked, like it’s hard to meet his eyes. He doesn’t answer. He clears his throat and says “we need more alcohol,” basically asking Sam to leave for a moment so that he can pull it together. He gazes after Sam with this raw, shamed look.
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It’s the first of two parallels in this episode to their conversation in 1.19 where Sam says his reticence to date is mostly not about Jessica, and Dean asks “then what is it about?” and Sam just looks at him, implying heavily that it’s about Dean.
The question Dean was asking Sam there was essentially, Why can’t you love anyone else?
The first question Sam asks Dean is why he didn’t kill someone, but it’s also why Dean wants to do the right thing and not lose himself, and the answer is because of Sam.
-After Sam is attacked, he reaches for Dean’s hand to help him up off the floor and then just leaves his hand outstretched after Sarge holds Dean back and tells him Sam is infected. It’s like his muscle memory of reach-out-hand, Dean-pulls-me-up hasn’t caught on.
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-The whole time Dean argues with the others about Sam, Sam only looks at the floor or at Dean. He’s not watching the conversation, he’s watching Dean because he’s scared and he looks to Dean when he’s scared.
-Dean says “no one’s shooting my brother”
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He’s so protective. He was about to kill someone who might be infected just in case, but when it’s Sam he would simply rather die in a murder suicide and that’s that on that.
-Sam asks for the gun so that he can shoot himself, saying “I’m not gonna become one of those things.” This episode is pure foreshadowing for the end of s5. Sam refuses to become a monster, Dean chooses to stand by him and die rather than kill him. Because of their faith in each other, because they waited, things work out.
-Dean hands over the keys to the impala. He’s not fucking around. He tells the doctor “oh actually we’re not really marshals.” He’s in a truth telling mood, fuck it.
-Sam asks Dean to leave him and keep living, looking at him with incredulity and gratitude and love and fear.
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Dean leaving him alone to die or become a monster would fulfill Sam’s deepest fear—left behind, not belonging, because something is wrong with him. But he still asks Dean to go, he throws a fit, he tells him “this is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” It reminds me of that scene from Titanic, Jack telling Rose “you’re so stupid” for staying with him instead of saving herself.
He says “it’s over for me, it doesn’t have to be for you.”
“No?”
“No. You can keep going.”
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“Who says I want to?”
This scene is so dramatic and romantic. Close shots of their faces, Sam looking up at Dean with his eyes full of tears, begging him. Dean tells Sam he doesn’t want to go on without him.
Sam asks, what?
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For a moment it almost looks like he’s taking this as the confession that it is, before Dean puts some distance between them and leans against the wall. This is the second scene is this episode to parallel their conversation in 1.19, this time even more closely.
Sam thinks Dean doesn’t want to go on because their dad died, but Dean says “you’re wrong. It’s not about dad. I mean part of it is, sure, but-“
Sam interrupts to ask “then what is it about?” and Dean gives him this look,
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this look of love and tenderness, like he’s willing Sam to understand.
This time Sam’s question is Why don’t you want to live? And the answer is that Dean doesn’t want to live without Sam.
I love how this scene makes clear that Sam’s romantic partners compare directly to Dean. It confirms what Sam was thinking about in 1.19, because for these scenes to rhyme they must have been thinking about each other.
-The brothers share a romantic beer at the lake. Sam asks Dean what he was talking about last night in a way that honest-to-god sounds like he’s referring to pillow talk. Dean doesn’t want to tell so Sam keeps pushing, but their tones are teasing and light. They really sound like they’re flirting. Dean suggests that they go to the Grand Canyon.
Sam keeps questioning him, gentle but insistent, as Dean talks about taking a break.
-Where is our Grand Canyon episode?
-Sam looks so scared when Dean says John told him something about Sam before he died. I wonder what’s running through his head. There’s this feeling that people with Sam’s negative core belief often get, which is a fear that something is deeply wrong or rotten in them and that eventually other people will find out. He’s probably thinking that’s finally happened.
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These were some of the tags on one of those "Are they soulmates?" polls...
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Okay, once more with feeling...
The axis mundi runs through heaven but it's not the corridors that we see later on in the series that the angels use to get around up there. It's the path that a soul can take to move through their memories, their own heaven. If they follow it long enough it will lead them to the garden. Just like the axis mundi, the garden appears differently to different souls. But Sam and Dean both see the axis mundi the same, a two lane blacktop road, and they both see the garden the same, the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. Every other time they show us Heaven, souls have to pull serious tricks to get out of their heaven and into someone else's but Dean doesn't have to do anything special to find or get to Sam, he just follows the path through his heaven which leads him to Sam. Ash finds them together because they are in a shared heaven, that's literally how the show set it up. Only special cases like soulmates share heavens and they see the garden and the axis mundi the same because they are soulmates.
And whether or not Sam and Dean are soulmates in the show has absolutely ZERO to do with anyone's personal ideas about soulmates and what they are or aren't. All that matters for this discussion is what the show says. I realize the show didn't come right out and say, "Sam and Dean, you two are soulmates" but that is the only fucking reason that the idea of soulmates would have ever been brought up in the first place. What the show did say was...
Sam: So… no offense… Ash: (interrupting) How did a dirt bag like me end up in a place like this? I’ve been saved, man. I was my congregation’s number one snake handler. Sam: (smiling) And you said this was your heaven? Ash: Yup! My own… personal… (Ash shotguns his beer while Sam and Dean watch. He burps.) Sam: And when the angels jumped us? We were… Ash: In your heaven. Sam: So there’re two heavens? Ash: No. More like a hundred billion. So, no worries, it’ll take those angels boys a minute to catch up. Dean: (completely confused) What? Ash: See, you gotta stop thinking of heaven as one place. It’s more like a butt-load of places all crammed together. Like Disneyland except without all the anti-Semitism. (Dean and Sam still look confused.) Sam: Disneyland? Ash: Mm-hmm. Yeah. See you got Winchesterland. (He holds up his hands to indicate the bar.) Ashland. (He points all around outside the bar.) A whole mess of everybody-else-lands. Put them all together: heaven. Right? At the center of it all? Is the Magic Kingdom. The Garden. Dean: So everybody gets a little slice of paradise. Ash: Pretty much. A few people share—special cases. What not. Dean: What do you mean ‘special’? Ash: Aw, you know. Like, uh, soul-mates. (Silence greets his statement. Dean and Sam don’t look at each other.) Anyway. Most people can’t leave their own private Idaho’s. Dean: But you ain’t most people. Ash: Nope. They ain’t got my skills.
There are a few important things said here. When the angels attacked them, Ash found Sam and Dean in their heaven, Winchesterland as Ash calls it, not Deanland or Samland, but combined. He then says that soulmates are unusual because they share a heaven. And then, in case there was any doubt, he specifically says that most people cannot leave their own heavens. Ash can because he has special, unusual, skills. So Dean couldn't have simply driven from his heaven to Sam's heaven because heaven doesn't work that way.
Like, this really isn't that complex. What they gave us was a basic equation where they explained the variables and left the answer understood but just not filled in.
Neither Sam nor Dean could leave their heaven on their own because they lacked the skills to do so, only soulmates share a heaven, but they were together and seeing the landmarks of heaven the same way. The only thing this equals is that Sam and Dean are soulmates.
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funsized-loser · 19 hours
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For the @sambuckylibrary TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024
Week 2: Victory Party | Rated T
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It's a party, but Sam isn't celebrating.
I'm so sorry, Sam. She's gone--sacrificed herself for the Soul Stone.
Steve's words ring loud in Sam's head. When he first heard it, it sent him to his knees, both Steve and Clint scrambling to his side in the dirt. Clint looked hollowed out next to him, while Steve held him like he might disappear again.
But now, there's music playing from a speaker somewhere, drinks flowing, and a joyous atmosphere after a hard-fought battle, and all Sam wants is to scream at the top of his lungs. 
He looks at old friends reunited and clinging to one another. He sees Pepper, Rhodes, and Banner huddled near the vehicle waiting to carry away Stark's body. Clint is on the phone, teary-eyed but happy. Sparkling portals still open here and there as the sorcerers bring in more supplies or a few people leave.
Sam takes in the destruction of the compound that he once, briefly, called home. He can picture morning runs around the property, silent breakfasts in the crowded kitchen (the Avengers weren't exactly morning people), and boisterous game nights in the lounge. 
And in every memory, Nat is right there in the thick of it. She'd always been a driving force in the group, a quick barb or joke at the ready, sharp eyes gleaming. Even while they were on the run; Sam swears she's the one that kept him and Steve alive. 
And to think he'll never see that smirk again--it hurts. It fucking hurts. 
He was gone, but came back. There's no coming back for Natasha. 
Sam wanders off to a secluded spot and drops onto a fallen slab of concrete. A sob works its way out as he buries his face in his hands. 
“Sam?”
He looks up and sees Bucky standing a few feet away, as though waiting for permission to approach. He quickly wipes his face and musters up something resembling a smile. 
“Barnes,” he replies quietly. 
“I think by now you can call me Bucky. And you look like you need this more than me.” 
He takes a couple steps forward to offer Sam a beer bottle. Sam plucks it from him and takes a swig. And promptly gags.
“What the hell?! This is not beer,” he eyes the bottle warily before glaring at Bucky. 
 “Oh, yeah, sorry,” he grimaces, “that talking raccoon gave me this. Regular alcohol doesn't do shit for me. But, you seem to need a stiff drink right now. You ok, all things considered?” 
“Not at all. You?”
Bucky just shrugs. “Been disappearing and reappearing for years now, starts to lose its shock value.” 
His grin slips when Sam doesn't respond, so he takes a seat next to him.
“Seriously though, is something wrong? Should I go get Steve?”
“No,” Sam shakes his head, “can you just– can you just sit with me?” 
Without risking a glance at Bucky, Sam can feel the concerned stare. 
“Sure.”
They sit in silence for a while, the noise of the party far enough away that it almost feels private. 
“I just can't believe that she's gone,” Sam eventually says. “She'd been a part of my life for years. And then, in what feels like a blink of the eye, she's gone. But not like us, y’know? We got lucky, we got to come back, but she–” he breaks off to wipe away more tears. “I'm tired of losing people. I just keep losing people that I love.” 
Bucky reaches out to squeeze Sam's forearm. 
“Hey, look at me.”
Sam turns to look at him and is met with wide, imploring eyes.
“I'm sorry you lost your friend. The way I heard it, she died so that the rest of us could return, right? So now, live a life that would make her proud. I know a thing or two about second chances, trust me, you gotta actually live. I'm sure you know that you can't dwell on everyone you lose. Live so that their memory lives on.”
There's a moment of guilt as Sam thinks about all the people that Bucky has lost. He knows everyone here has lost someone. Maybe that grief is what keeps them all in the fight: a need to keep others from losing people. 
Sam focuses on the feeling of Bucky's thumb rubbing circles into his skin where his hand still rests on Sam's forearm. Once his breathing evens out, he asks, “When did you get so wise, old man?” 
Bucky just grins and gives his arm another squeeze. 
“Thanks for that. I know all of this. It just never gets easier. But now it's a whole new world I'm facing, and I wish my friend was here.”
“You've got the rest of us though,” Bucky says and nudges him with his shoulder.
Sam chuckles. “Oh, we're friends now?”
Bucky gives a faux gasp. “Really, after everything we've been through, you still don't think we're friends? That hurts, Wilson.” 
That gets a full laugh out of Sam. 
When he looks over at him, Bucky's eyes are crinkled from how big his smile is. Sam's never gotten to see this side of him, and a small part of him hopes he gets to see more of it. 
“Pinky swear?” Sam jokes.
“Pinky swear.” Bucky's hand slides down so that he can lock his finger with Sam's. His eyes flick down from Sam's eyes to his lips for a second, but they are clear and sincere, and there's a softness that hints at something more. “You've got me; I'm not going anywhere, Sam.” 
Sam shifts his hand and interlaces his fingers with Bucky's. Neither of them say a word, but the look in their eyes speaks volumes. 
Bucky angles towards him and slowly lifts his left hand to cup Sam's face. Sam is surprised by the warmth of the vibranium, but when Bucky’s thumb brushes across his lower lip, he can't hold back anymore.
Sam surges forward and kisses him. They explore each other with a hunger that Sam prays is not just lust or grief and leftover adrenaline. When Bucky suddenly pulls away, Sam's stomach drops. 
“Steve's coming,” Bucky whispers with a frown. 
They let go of each other just as Steve calls out.
“Buck, you over here? Have you seen–oh, there you are, Sam. I've been looking for you. You alright?” 
Sam nods, “Yeah, feeling a little better. Thanks, Steve.”
Steve squeezes his uninvited self into the space between them and throws his arms over their shoulders, pulling them into his side.
“You two have no idea how happy I am to have you back!”
“If you don't squeeze us to death, you might have us around longer, pal,” grumbles Bucky from under Steve's left arm. 
They all laugh, but Steve does loosen his hold. 
“I know, sorry. I just keep thinking that at any moment you'll turn to dust again, so it's like I have to physically reassure myself you're actually here,” Steve says quietly. 
That comment causes both of them to wordlessly wrap an arm around Steve and give him a squeeze of their own.
They don't know what their friend went through without them. But he's got the same haunted look that everyone who wasn't dusted seems to possess. 
“We're here, man. Tell us what we missed,” Sam tells him.
And as Steve fills them in on the past five years, Bucky's hand is clasped over Sam's behind Steve, thumb rubbing soothing circles into Sam's skin.
Sam thinks he'll be just fine in this new world.
THE END
(Side note: did I make myself sad thinking about the six months of ghosting awaiting these two?? Maybe. Or the fact that they'll both miss their shared BFF?? Also maybe.) 
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https://www.tumblr.com/hookslinesandsinkers/745973253676433408/gotta-post-again-just-like-dean
Okay, so to be honest, I don’t think either brother is actually explicit,y "queer coded" or secretly gay/bi. Nor do I think if they were that would somehow make them superior (or inferior) to other characters as many in fandom seem to believe, and not just hellers.
But, saying Sam is the "straightest" characters is so dumb. How do you even measure that? The number of dicks sucked? Because then he and Dean are tied in canon. At zero. The number of men who hit on them? Again, tied. A male bartender hits on Sam. The golem guy pretends to hit on Dean (he wasn’t really hitting on him, so it doesn’t count) and the creepy vampire guy who turns Dean hits on him. Let’s ignore the fact that other people hitting on them doesn’t mean shit about their own sexuality, but the creepy vampire was violating Dean … so not sure if that’s too good for the heller argument. Of course, they applauded abuse in romantic relationships, so they probably don’t care.
What else suggests a guy is gay/bi?
Let’s get into stereotype land. Dean likes cowboys, or more specifically wants to be one. That certainly means he likes the D because no guys who grew up in the 80s or before enjoyed westerns … none. It’s not like playing cowboys was super popular back in the day. Nope. Only gay guys aspire to play out their cowboy dreams. Let’s pick another random stereotype abiut gay dudes then … they are into fitness. Which brother eats very healthy, works out, looks after his body? I’m sorry, who? A little louder inthe back. That’s right … Sam! Also, If we want to keep leaning into stereotypes, Sam is the one who gets called prissy and similar adjectives, not to mention called the girl in his relationship with Dean, and not just by Dean. Prissy = gay right, just like cowboy = gay? Stereotypes for the win! Except when they dint support the heller agenda.
Also, if we want to go back to how other characters perceive Sam or Dean as "proof" of gayness … Dean Smith thinks Sam Wesson is hitting on him in the elevator in It’s a Terrible Life. Or does that not count because it’s not really, real Sam. Or dies it just not count because it’s Sam, period? Or does it make Dean gay because he thinks Sam is gay and hitting on him?
Hellers are so fucking stupid and their "rules for gayness" are so arbitrary that it’s both offensive and moronic.
Also, Cass could literally hit Dean with his boner (if he wasn’t junk-less) and it still wouldn’t make Dean gay/bi or interested in him romantically/sexually.
Also, I saw on a different pos that someone claimed Sam never had a guy declaring his undying love for him (because that proves the recipients gayness, I guess). But he did, actually. And it was Dean. So, I guess Dean is in love with another man (because love us always romantic, right hellers?) .. too bad for hellers that it’s Sam.
I don’t even ship it, but Wincest for the win! Lol.
Well, like I said earlier, hellers think that if the same sex declares their undying love for you, that means you MUST be gay as well whether you like it or not. And I think that idiot heller was actually trying to use Sam's straightness as an insult somehow. That Dean is the special one because he's "queer coded." It's just another ridiculous competition this new generation has amongst themselves.
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quietwingsinthesky · 6 days
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crucial to the vision that lucifer does not actually like. make up for torturing sam. or possessing castiel. or some other third thing he did to dean. it’s just that he’s mary’s boytoy now and they can’t kick him off the team because of it.
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skeletalheartattack · 3 months
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Stumbles down your chimney
ahhhhhh hello, you must be that Santa Claus i hear so much about. welcome to my home. here we have my two christmas trees so i can max out on presents. you understand. i'm on the good list, don't even double check. if you know what's good for you Santa.
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Me when im planning something big but it has this guy
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whysamwhy123 · 2 months
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Julia really misted Daniel, huh...
...Well. Shit. I guess I have to write that Dead Dove fic now... 😬
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risarchives · 2 years
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had a dream that an alexis lore audio was dropped right after that of scorpius and in the thumbnail it said, “princess, progeny, poison” and wow. that would've been interesting
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astrxealis · 1 year
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yo ... i've been playing stardew valley for an average of 8 hours per day since i got it like. the start of this week
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fightingdragonswithwho · 10 months
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hate to be a hater on the main … but this season of ted lasso excels (once again) at team dynamic and the found family elements and i think the finale absolutely nailed that, i cried, i laughed, it was perfect on that. now as for the individual stories and relationships… yeah, let’s leave it at that
#(rant below ignore me)#i think making longer episodes allowed them to add stories that felt so pointless to me#what was the point of zava? to make jamie understand something about himself? could have done that better with just the roy plot#i would have understood roy and keeley breaking up of it was like ‘let’s both grow as individuals’#and roy kinda did but apparently not enough because his plot at the end is how he do better so i guess he didn’t#jamie had the best development only to then lose part of it by throwing the random video comment?? like why??#keeley my love … from the random friend that added nothing to the story to an undervelopped love interest plot line … they did u so dirty#why the hell was ted so emotionally off this last episode instead of actually talking the time to proper end things with london and everyone#rebecca was SOBBING and ted was like ‘well gotta go’ ??#it’s not about the ship or anything but what ?? and rebecca … love that she stayed with the club#but to have her end up with some random creepy man she met once and whose name WE DONT EVEN KNOW#i have no issues with ted going home to his son. it makes perfect sense. but it felt so weird#the nate plot was wrapped kinda poorly too??#sam colin and most of the guys from the team were amazing#and the found family and team dynamic was still amazing as always#the beard and jane relationship was always weird to me because it feels like joke after joke of.. abuse?#do they get married or was it a dream?? and if so was the whole sequence a dream? and if it wasn’t WHO DID THE CGI FOR THE WEDDING 💀#we spent more time with these characters this season and it doesn’t feel that way and idk this season felt weird at so many points#I LOVE THIS SHOW I DO!! first 2 seasons are one of my all time favourite seasons of a sitcom!! and i still enjoyed a lot about s3 <33#anyway sorry to be a hater on the main but it was just a weird season to end it on#anti ted lasso#<- i really don’t wanna upset anyone i just felt like ranting a little 💀 pls don’t hate me#ted lasso spoilers
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dreamertrilogys · 2 years
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AUGH i genuinely hope google docs DIES literally BITING and STABBING and KILLING it to DEATH rn
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lukeskqwalker · 1 year
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my line of thinking is that if i post enough untamed stuff then i'll either a) make more mdzs friends or b) lose followers and both are a lowkey a plus so
#CLARIFICATION: i do not actually mind yall following me obviously this is a public blog its just funny and also wild to be perceived#im sorry i really am but i Am baffled by this number that keeps going up and never goes down like guys!! im a mess!!!#i never stick to one thing HOW are yall not leaving en masse#hit me up if you would like to sob and wail loudly with me over this delightful necromantic comedy/tragedy two in one#ok but seriously all of my friends are like 'yeah lol i lost so many followers for posting x' WHY ARE YOU NOT LEAVING#I CHANGE SO OFTEN WHAT#im not WANTING people to leave but im just. so confused.#i dont MAKE THINGS and when i do i dont make multiple things for the same fandom#i make one (1) post about it and then i vanish into a vapor#ok but to be fair i guess i do put stuff in a queue if i notice im posting a lot of it#like if i go into a tag i always put it all in a queue so yall dont have 500 at once#gotta introduce it slowly. like when youre changing your cats petfood brand.#thats how you catch em#hello. can you tell i do not want to study for my test anymore. anyway.#here is a joke if you get this far#one sec i have to actually think of a joke#i just googled 'good joke' and this one was on a minion meme photo that was very grainy so prepare yourself for the best joke of all time#'there are three kinds of people in the world. those who are good at math and those who are not.' thank you facebook moms#everyone say 'go to bed sam'#this is a joke. i will not. i will wail 'no' like a petulant child. and then i will laugh.#evilly.#if this shows up in any tag at all i will be mortified#to sum up: watch untamed. minion mom joke. patrick star 'who are you people' meme.#will i delete this in the morning? perchance.
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von-karmas-a-bitch · 5 months
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you’ve got this!!
girl help i have no context ghskfhskbf thanks for whatever it is you're trying to pep talk me abt
#if i had to guess it's probably abt me rambling in the tags abt how i've been stuck in a mental illness tar pit#that caused me to run out of meds and subsequently get worse and ghost my found family grandparents for like 5 months fhsjhfjsgf#i am indeed on the verge of breaking my failgirl streak so i do got this you're right anon#the plan is to go to the farm and apologise for my disappearing act tomorrow around noon#since i feel like i can finally start volunteering consistently now bc im this close 👌 to getting back on top of shit#i actually did so much today im proud of myself#deep cleaned the degus' cages and gave them fresh bedding and they are very happy now bc making their nests is like their fave activity#especially sam he would honestly rather you give him a piece of toilet paper than a treat one man's trash truly is another man's treasure#and i took my laundry down (will put it away after I've done the other stuff i need to do) and hung my sister's up for her#(she batch cooked a bunch of meals for us and also does the bulk of housework as well as work work bc my ass is unemployed so like#it's older sibling reparations yknow. i gotta do stuff for her sometimes to lighten the load a bit lmao)#and i helped her take the bins out#and bc i have been living in my pajamas for an embarrassingly long while i have no more laundry to do aside from my bedsheets#which i am just abt to change#and THEN im gonna put my laundry away and answer that other ask#then im gonna be all caught up on Stuff I Need To Do and then volunteering at the farm will be the only thing i have to do#which will thus make it doable bc it won't make me too exhausted to do other stuff bc there is no other stuff to do#and then i will resume the usual thing where i don't go in on weekends and get the other stuff done then#i will of course inevitably burn out again but such is life when you have mental illness up the wazoo#honestly if the doctors were open on weekends that would solve a lot of my problems bc i keep forgetting to order my meds#and then i remember on the weekend but then they're closed and im like ok on monday then#and then by the time monday rolls around i forget rinse and repeat#im on the verge of running out again but fuck it we ball#i will figure this out somehow#im on top of literally everything else at least so. here's to hoping i can make it in on monday#apologies to my sister in advance for the 5 million alarms i must set but i am a very heavy sleeper#asks
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fatecantstopme · 3 months
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Spell Bound
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader
Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.
Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies
"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.
You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.
He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.
"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.
"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."
"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."
You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."
Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."
"You think?"
You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.
About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.
"I think I found it," you said aloud.
At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.
You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"
"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."
"Seriously?"
He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."
You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."
He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."
You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."
He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.
"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."
Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.
"Dean?" you asked tentatively.
"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."
"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"
He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.
You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.
"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.
Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"
You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"
Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"
"You can smell my skin?"
He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"
"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."
You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"
"What?"
"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."
"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."
You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.
"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.
You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.
"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.
"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."
Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.
"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"
Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."
"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."
"It's called what?"
"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."
"Die? Is there a cure?"
You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.
"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."
"I have to what?"
"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."
"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"
"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."
"How long do I have?"
You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.
"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.
"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."
Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.
"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.
"Shit."
"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.
"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"
"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."
"Another story?"
"It could take a lot longer."
"Great," you mumbled.
"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.
"Dean?" you questioned softly.
"Just drive, (Y/N)."
You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.
Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.
"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.
You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."
He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."
You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."
He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."
"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."
You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.
"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.
Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.
"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."
"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."
His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."
"It's alright...use me."
He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."
You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."
That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.
He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.
His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.
He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.
A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.
The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.
He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."
You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."
He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.
You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.
Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.
His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.
"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.
You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.
"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."
You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.
"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."
Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.
His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.
You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"
He shook his head. "Need more."
He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.
He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.
Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.
"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.
He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.
Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.
"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.
You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.
After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.
You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.
It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.
You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.
Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.
When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.
"Better?" you whispered.
He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.
His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.
Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.
His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.
His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.
His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.
You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.
Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.
When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.
Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.
He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.
You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.
You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.
To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.
"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.
His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.
"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.
He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.
This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.
"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"
Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.
You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.
He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."
You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."
He groaned. "Yes ma'am."
He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.
"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."
You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.
"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.
You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.
"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"
You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."
Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.
He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.
He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.
"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.
He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.
His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.
Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."
You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."
His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"
You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.
"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"
You nodded again.
"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."
"Dean..." you whispered.
"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."
Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.
The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.
He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.
He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.
You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.
Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.
You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.
"A little," you said honestly.
He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."
You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."
There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.
"Shower?" he asked softly.
"I honestly don't think I can stand."
A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."
You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.
He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.
"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.
He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.
You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.
You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.
Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."
One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.
You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?
As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."
"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.
Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.
"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."
Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."
"But--"
He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."
Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...
Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.
"Umm...whatcha doing?"
"Taking a bath."
"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"
You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.
Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.
"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"
"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."
He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"
"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."
"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"
"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.
He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."
"Then what are you trying to say?"
He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"
You nodded.
"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."
"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.
He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"
You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.
He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."
Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.
"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."
"You--you love me?"
"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."
"You're in love--with me?"
He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."
"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.
"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.
You nodded slowly.
"And?"
"I'm in love with you too."
He grinned widely. "Yeah?"
You nodded, cheeks turning red.
He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.
He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.
"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.
"Mhmm," you hummed.
He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."
"But I'm comfortable," you whined.
He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"
You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."
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