#smmie

[tricksterreformed-a]

            I dreamt that I was perched atop a throne of human skulls On a cliff above the ocean — howling wind and shrieking seagulls             And the dream went on forever, one single static frame                               (sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name)

gabriel & sam

[kryetara]

𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴,  𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝚃 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙼𝚂 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚂 𝙰 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝙽 𝚆𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙷 ;  𝚂𝙰𝙼 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁.     sam ...  god.  he looks different.  somehow taller,  as if that were even possible ;  ira feels an odd sort of presence stood there,  peering through the window at him,  unbeknownst.  mesmerized in a way.  ira hadn’t given it enough thought to even  consider  the winchester boys showing up,  but now it’s happening,  apparent before him,  he almost kicks himself for  not expecting it sooner ;    jesus.   nausea gripping his throat while he watches,  noticing them both speaking to a number of his neighbours ;  fuck.  is he next ?

you need to get out of here,  the thought burns behind his eyes ;  better to flee the scene than do this,  now,  so extremely unequipped and unprepared.  shaking his gaze off of him,  dunham frantically searches his house for a coat,  keys,  phone,  wallet,  ( not even considering that practically running out your house at whatever time of morning this is is at all strange behaviour )  and just behind his front door,  he has to suck in a deep breath.  when he’s out,  and the doors locked,  his hands are in his pockets and he’s walking  fast,   hoping he’ll not be noticed,  until ...   there’s a shout.  an all too familiar voice.  and he stops dead.  oh god.  here we go.     //     @smmie​.

[tricksterreformed-a]

@smmie​ sent :  ‘uh- yeah. i brought you back a smoothie, i felt like that was a little more you than the coffee choices they had.’

          “I won’t lie, I do love a good smoothie, but—and please don’t take this the wrong way—why did you bring me anything?”

[tricksterreformed-a]

@smmie​ sent :  📱 for 5 texts that didn’t get sent and 1 that did

[text to Sam]  careful

          He meant well, really, but the last time he instructed the great and powerful Sam Winchester to be careful he didn’t get another text from the guy for weeks. So Gabriel deleted the text, letter by letter, and fought the urge to tell him in person--if only to have a face to read and some form of explanation.

[text to Sam]  drinks then??????????

          Maybe it’s the number of question marks, maybe it’s the obvious desperation in response to Sam so clearly brushing him off, but Gabriel can’t quite bring himself to hit ‘send’.

[text to Sam]  Veritas is dead?

          Swallowing the snarl curling on his lips Gabriel threw the phone aside, message unsent, and stepped out into the cold night air.  This too would pass.

[text to Sam]  i don’t understand how someone so kind, and intuitive, and wildly intelligent can be such an idiot

          Best not to test those waters via text.  Gabriel already suspected that they were choppy at best and infested with sharks at worst.  Metaphorical sharks.  The second worst kind.

[text to Sam]  i don’t sleep anymore so if you ever need anything. day or night. just call.

          That one sat there, typed and ready to send for two full days before Gabriel deleted it.  It was probably insulting to offer, seeing as they already had Castiel around to help out with any angel-relevant business.  

+1 he did send

[text to Sam]  careful, once you invite me in i’m extremely hard to get rid of. but srsly i’ll be there in 5 i’m in line at rofo rn. u want any fries?

          He almost miracled the line away, but was restrained by the thin line of self control he still had to cling to.

[tricksterreformed-a]

👀 👀

Send me a “👀” and My Muse will give 3 things they find Physically Attractive about Your Muse  ||  accepting

“I know in the past I’ve advised you against trusting people who reduce you to your looks because you’re more than that, but in this case I’m the one doing it, so you should be extra skeptical.

I’m a sucker for anyone taller than me, tall people make the best little spoons, and Sam you have truly knocked it out of the park on that front

you have great hair which comes with a lot of perks which I will not expand upon here

there aren’t many people who can look as hot as you do when you’re disappointed in my nonsense

And if that’s not enough, have another set and buckle up your mega-extra skeptical suspenders.

do the people a favor and take yout top off, the view is excellent

you’ve got wonderful hands, good for swinging a sword or swinging a sword if you know what I mean

and you still have kind eyes after everything...”

[tricksterreformed-a]

@smmie​ sent : video- get wrecked sammy...... i mean- (Video - Our muses watch pornography together )  || accepting

(( ooc; ah, yes, the inevitable two man watch-party ))

          Gabriel could not, for the life of him, figure out how he’d pulled this one off. Sure there had been jokes.  Lots of them, mostly centering around kneeling not just being for prayer, and catching a glimpse of heaven.  Standard angelic pickup lines twisted just so to get a laugh.  But joking around in a diner was a far cry from sitting on a hotel room bed while the DVD player clicked on.   Or at least Sam was sitting, perched on the edge of the bed like he wasn’t quite ready to commit to whatever this was just yet and wanted an easy escape--stand, step, door, see you tomorrow during daylight hours where we can pretend this never almost happened.  But they were halfway through Gabriel’s opening monologue about how to put Lucifer back in the box (which was just part of it) and he hadn’t fled yet, so that was something.  Gabriel, on the other hand, was laying on his back with his feet towards the headboard, hands folded across his midsection with his head hanging over the foot of the bed slightly.  Watching the whole thing upside down.  

          As the monologue concluded (”so this is me standing up, and this is me laying down”) what followed was a relatively vanilla sex scene. A little spanking, a little oral, a position switch halfway through that had them land with the woman on top--her name had been Harriett and she’d been a real peach to work with.  The Gabriel on the screen finished with a grunt and then dutifully put his fake mustache back on as if that was somehow important. 

          And then it got weird.   Harriett launched into another speech in the same exaggerated sexy voice she’d used at the opening of the video, but now she was talking about all the other things Casa Erotica had to offer. Experiences humans couldn’t provide. 

          Sam shot him a look then, a ittle alarmed, filled with an unspoken question, and curious. It was that curiosity that caused Gabriel to smile, reach over to pat his thigh, and say: “Everyone in this is dead, except me.”  Which earned him a look that was all genuine confusion.   “So if you’re looking for a 101 course on anything that’s about to happen, I’m quite literally the only guy for the job.”  He topped his comment off with a wink and  a smile that (perhaps because he was at such an odd angle) had something sharp to it.   “I’ll let you know,” Sam replied, just a touch of sarcasm rounding out his words, but he was now leaning back instead of forward for the first time since they’d embarked on this endeavor.  Which was something. 

          (At the fifteen minute mark they got distracted from what was happening on the screen with talk of Fenrir and how Sam had done his part to kill some of the cultists who worshipped him.  Which then turned to a discussion on knotting and the pros and cons of atypical genetalia.)  

          At the thirty minute mark, Sam spoke up again, staring with furrowed brows first at the Gabriel on the screen, and then at the man next to him. “Okay, that is not a normal amount of tongue, and I’ve seen your tongue, it isn’t that.”  The hunter said, clearly trying to hide what Gabriel was sure was a very emotionally complicated erection, all the while shooting glances between the rim job happening on the screen and the archangel’s face next to him.   In response Gabriel stuck his (perfectly normal looking) tongue out at him and gave it a wiggle.  “I’d be pretty hard for me to talk as much as I do if I was carrying that around in my mouth all the time.”  He replied, and then went on: “I know this,” Gabriel gave his own nose a quick double tap, “Looks like your standard human vessel, but it’s not.  I had to blend in with a certain crowd when I went in to wittness protection.  You call them monsters.”  He hummed a little, contemplating his next move and the faint pink hue that had taken up residence in Sam’s cheeks.  “Want to see?”  

          He couldn’t tell whether the pause that followed was Sam taking time to think it over, or if the hunter had gotten distracted watching the moment when the rim job switched back over to a quick stretch of fingering.  But finally Gabriel got his answer. “Yeah, yeah okay.”  

          Gabriel did not so much move from where he was laying as he stopped being in one place and started being in another with an uncanny (inhuman) lack of transition.  It just so happened that the place he started being was straddled across Sam’s lap where he then proceeded to pat the hunter’s cheek and tell him: “If you want me to stop just say the word.” Before leaning in to press their mouths together with a hungry and insistant pressure.  Lips parted, tongues met, and still Gabriel pressed deeper, pushing Sam back and down onto the bed and grinding down against his erection as the tented pressure in his own pants grew.  An eager hand threaded fingers through Sam’s hair pulling just a little to tilt the hunter’s head back to give Gabriel better access to the spot just below his jaw where the archangel could feel his very human pulse.   His mouth--which before had been warm and welcoming--was now shockingly cold, earning him a gasp from the hunter as goosebumps rose and spread across his neck.   Gabriel sucked, bit, and kissed his way down leaving a trail of numb purple marks blooming in his wake.  Evidence to be covered up or put on full display later at Sam’s discression. 

          He slid the hand not tangled in the hunter’s hair under his shirt, up his stomach and chest leaving a warm trail of heat in it’s wake, a sharp contrast to the cold blue lips currently pulled back to reveal a smile filled with teeth that looked sharper than they had before, more akin to fangs. Monster teeth. Though he couldn’t say if it was the sensation or the sight that had the hunter choking back a moan.  One of Sam’s hands had already worked it’s way between his legs, palm pressed to the erection still contained in his pants, causing Gabriel to groan and decide that pants were--at this point--entirely unnecessary.  All it took was a thought and they were gone and finally he had that glorious contact of skin on skin.   If he had to guess he’d have said Sam was enjoying the sudden lack of fabric too, hips bucking up to meet the hand between them.  

          It was time to cut to the chase before anyone had time to consider the impact this might have on their working relationship.   In the background Casa Erotica was wrapping up with a space orgy featuring something with a lot of tentacles.   Gabriel moved Sam further up on the bed so he’d have room to work with a sudden heave that left the hunter breathless.   He didn’t have time to catch his breath before the hot press of breath hit and bypassed his cock to settle lower.  Again Gabriel manhandled him to get a better angle, fingers digging into his hips hard enough to bruise as he pressed his mouth and then tongue to Sam’s hole.  Gabriel hummed, a sound devised to carry motion in a way no normal human sound could. It vibrated up his spine and left the hunter moaning in earnest at that first slow press inwards. 

          One hand kept his grip on the human’s hips as the other slid slowly up to hold his cock, all the while his tongue vibrated with sound and motion as it pressed against his hole, darting in slightly and then swelling in that inhuman and uncanny way it had minutes ago on the screen.  The hand on Sam’s cock only gripped, steady and still leaving it to the hunter to decide between thrusting into it and pressing back down onto his tongue.  Gabriel dragged it on as the credits on the screen rolled, a list of the dead while he was here and so, so alive.  Finally the hum reached it’s peak and Sam was gasping and writhing and half begging for release in a voice Gabriel thought he could really get used to hearing.  He wasn’t sure if the hunter even noticed but at this point there was a hand holding his hips, a hand around his cock, and still another pressing a well slicked finger into him.  The finger was shortly joined by a second and the fast thrusts were paired with the motion of the hand around his cock until finally--finally--Sam came into his hand and left an oozing trail across his stomach. 

          Gabriel slowly slid his fingers out, enjoying the fluttering pulsing that tried to hold them in place, and took his own cock in hand to finish himself off.  A process that didn’t take long at all given the view. 

          “And that’s the 101 course.”  He said in a voice that was just this side of raw and breathless.   “If you’re looking for the 102 course we can discuss it later.  Maybe after a few more sessions.”  He winked at Sam, but it was a tired gesture with no heat behind it.   In response he received a grunt that may have been the first half of a groan. “Could you clean up?”  The hunter asked him, eyes already half shut. “I feel like jelly.”  

          “Only if you’ll let me stay the night, I didn’t exactly rent a room and it seems like such a shame to leave,”  Gabriel replied with a smile and a snap that removed the stickier evidence of what had happened between them.  “Fine,”  Sam acquiesed, rolling over onto his side. “And I like to be the big spoon,”  the archangel informed him, to which he received another grumbling sound that Gabriel decided had to mean ‘that’s perfect because I like to be the little spoon’.

[tricksterreformed-a]

@smmie​ re: the art of death faking

          “Do you not agree that modern problems require modern solutions?”

[tricksterreformed-a]

what’s the mood??? 😖👉🏻👈🏻

send “what’s the mood” for a moodboard of our muses ||  closing time! one last call for alcohol moodboards

here it is !