#rowena is so done

[littlebluejaydraws]

Leyendecker study with Michael and Dean (Reference is below the cut)

ID: Three images of a digital drawing of Michael possessing Dean. The last two images are close ups from the first. The drawing shows Michael!Dean adjusting his bow tie in front of a mirror, based on a scene from episode 14x02 of Supernatural. Michael is wearing a suit and has a ring on his left pinky. There are cracks spreading out from the middle of the mirror, which divide his reflection into sections. Most of the sections reflect Michael, looking calm, but one shows Dean's expression, upset and crying. Beneath the mirror is a shelf with a goblet and curved knife resting on it. The pose and composition of the drawing are taken from a drawing by JC Leyendecker, and the colouring is an attempt to match his style. End ID.

ID: Drawing by JC Leyendecker showing a man adjusting his tie in front of an ornate mirror. There is a shelf beneath the mirror with a bowl of daffodils, top hat, gloves, and cane. End ID.

[rowenabean]

this week is a stress for the record i do not recommend moving house

[prentissluvr]

ruby <33333 rowena <33333 my two favorite manipulative hotties

[pinkfey]

EIGHT SENTENCE MONDAY—♡;

tagged by the beloved bones @nuclearstorms, tysm bby 😚 it’s been a while sooo i’ll tag: @rosebarsoap @malefiicarum @shadowglens @aartyom @swordcoasts @risingsh0t @planetkiller @narshadda @kirnet @druidgroves @arklay @solasan @morvaris @devilbrakers and you !!

Rowena splayed her fingers out in front of her, tentative. “Do you remember,” she began, “that day we met at Mother’s salon? We went exploring in the cellar and found all those spiders and—oh, how we screamed.”

“I take it this is relevant?” Anora’s face was stone but the tightness in her voice betrayed her.

“What happened to those girls?”

“The same thing that happens to every teyrn’s daughter, no?”

“Ah, fathers.”

[hellgivenhasmoved]

ketch and rowena in 15x2 crack me up so much. davina , not so much...cause she's just looking at them both like " eww....you two ???? seriously ???? gross. "

[zwei-rhunen]

nyeheheh only two tomes left uwu

[apricote]

did the arcane tower for the first time and that was. really sad

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Just Keep Breathing

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, Castiel & Winchester!reader, Rowena & Winchester!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x2)

Synopsis: You get sick from a mysterious illness, and you just can’t seem to get better.

“Finally!”

Dean’s voice was the first you heard as you stumbled into the bunker after an insanely long school day. You were somehow sweating and freezing at the same time, and it felt like you might collapse any second.

“Grab a book, there’s a ton of lore to go through,” Dean continued. “We’re looking for more info on witches, seems like there might be…” Dean’s voice trailed off when he looked up to see you all but slumping down the stairs. “Hey kid, you ok?”

“Mm-hmm,” you huffed in response as your backpack dropped to the floor—had you done that? You didn’t remember making the decision to take it off, it seemed to just fall off your slumped shoulders on its own.

“Ok, commere.” You blinked and there was Dean, his hand lifting to your forehead and his brow drawn in concern. “Jeez, you’re burning up.”

At Dean’s words, Sam looked up.

“She’s sick?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Dean removed his hand and lowered himself to one knee to look at your downturned, unfocused gaze. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

You tried to focus on Dean’s eyes, but your gaze refused to settle.

“Yeah ok,” Dean sighed. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You let Dean lead you to your room and tuck you into bed. He even helped you take your shoes off when your fingers fumbled with the laces.

“Did you eat today?” Dean asked as you settled in.

“I…” you wracked your befuddled brain. “I had lunch…but then I threw it up sometime after sixth period.”

“Ok.” Dean cringed. “You get some sleep, I’m gonna go make you food.”

“Nooo.”

Dean turned in surprise at your desperate whine.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed at his sleeve and tugged.

“Don’t go,” you sniffled. “I don’t want food, I just want you to stay.”

“Ok, ok,” Dean relented, figuring that once you were asleep he could make you something. “You better not get me sick,” he said, only half kidding, as he sat on your bed. When you reached out to him, he went to put his arms around you, but the second his hands touched you, you flinched away.

“That hurts!” You were starting to cry now as you backed away from your brother.

“What hurts?” Dean was baffled. “I barely even…” he trailed off as he pressed the back of his hand to your head again, ignoring the way you hissed and tried to flinch away from him. “Jeesh, it’s even worse now,” Dean mumbled. “Just lay back now, you gotta get some sleep, ok?”

“Don’t go,” you begged.

“I’m not going anywhere, just take it easy sweetheart,” Dean promised. “Get some rest.”

Dean waited until he was sure you were asleep before he went to talk to Sam.

“She asleep?” Sam asked, not even looking up from the lore book he was studying.

“Yeah…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Sam, something’s wrong.”

“Wrong? What, with Y/N?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it…she was getting hot so fast, and when I tried to touch her, it was like I burned her or something. I don’t know, I guess I can’t be sure, but something about her getting sick doesn’t feel…normal.”

“Ok.” Sam nodded. “Well, you call around at the school and see if there’s a bug going around. I’m gonna hit the lore a bit more.”

The boys didn’t speak as they got to work.

…

Sam was heading to the kitchen when he heard you calling for him. He detoured into your room, his heart constricting when he saw you—you were pale and sweaty, the sheets sticking to your skin. He couldn’t tell if your cheeks were glistening from tears or sweat—it was obvious you were in pain.

“Hey honey,” he greeted gently. “Did you need something?”

“Can you stay with me?” You pleaded. Sam didn’t hesitate, coming over to sit on your bed. You reached out to hold his hand, but when your fingers touched his you hissed and pulled away.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked, remembering what Dean had said.

“It hurts.” Now there was no mistaking the tears on your face for sweat—Sam had never seen you so upset and in pain. “It’s like-like my skin is on fire and-and I just want a hug but when anybody touches me it just—it just gets worse.” You were out of breath and choking on your words by the end, and it took every ounce of Sam’s will to ignore his big brother instinct and not pull you into his arms—the last thing he wanted was to hurt you worse.

“Stay right here, I’m coming right back,” Sam said as he stood. You didn’t say anything, you just watched curiously—and a little worried—as Sam left. Sure enough, he returned a minute later with a bowl full of water and a glove.

“Ok, I’m gonna try something, hold still,” Sam instructed.

You started to giggle when Sam pulled the glove on and plunged his hand in the bowl. He grinned at you, happy to hear you laughing again.

“Ok now, hold still,” Sam insisted. “This is serious.” But he was still grinning as he took his dripping, gloved hand and pressed it against your forehead. “How does that feel?”

You closed your eyes in contentment as the cool water hit your skin and the gentle cloth brushed against your forehead.

“Better,” you told Sam with a smile. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Anytime,” Sam said.

The two of you stayed like that for most of the afternoon, with Sam comforting you and trying to cool you off with the wet glove. Sam was determined to do anything he could to make you feel better while Dean was trying to investigate the cause of your illness. He’d also been calling Cas all day, but he hadn’t gotten an answer.

Dean was just about to give up on the books and catch a few hours of sleep when he heard Sam calling for him. He followed the sound to your room, where he found his little siblings resting on your bed.

“Can you sing me a song?” You asked, shyly picking at your sheets.

“Uhm…” Dean swallowed, a little uncomfortable. “Sure sweetheart.”

Sam relented his spot next to you so that Dean could climb in. He started off just humming “Hey Jude,” and within minutes you were fast asleep.

“You were right, Dean,” Sam said when he was sure you were asleep. “I don’t know what it is but—but it’s bad.”

“Ok well we don’t need to panic,” Dean assured him, noticing Sam’s rising anxiety. “She’s been sick before, let’s just give it a little longer and see what happens. Maybe Cas’ll finally come around and set her straight.”

“I don’t remember,” Sam mumbled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Her getting sick. I barely ever remember her being sick.”

“Dad always sent you to school whether she was sick or not. I usually stayed behind to take care of her.” A ghost of a smile passed across Dean’s lips. “Most of the time I had to convince dad that I’d caught whatever she had so that he’d let me stay with her. I never wanted to leave her when she was sick.”

Sam was quiet for a long moment before a thought occurred to him.

“I don’t ever remember you sick.”

At this, Dean shrugged.

“I usually just powered through it. I had a job to do, after all.”

Sam was about to comment on that when his eyes suddenly snapped to you.

“Dean, is…is she breathing?” Dean jumped up as Sam moved closer to you. “Dean she’s not breathing!”

Dean blocked Sam from getting in the way and grabbed hold of your shoulders.

“Hey…hey!”

You jolted awake when Deans shook you, taking a great gulp of air the moment you were awake.

“Hey…ok…” Dean breathed a sigh of relief, holding you in his arms until he heard you crying as you tried to pull away. “You ok?” He asked as he let you go.

“It still hurts,” you sniffled. “What…what happened?”

“You stopped breathing,” Sam said. “It…jeez kid, you scared us.”

Dean noticed that your breaths still sounded labored.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“It…it kinda hurts,” you muttered almost to yourself as you rubbed at your chest.

“Breathing?” Sam met Dean’s eyes—they were terrified.

Your only response was a tiny nod as you continued to take shallow breaths.

“I’m gonna try Cas again,” Dean said, standing from your bed.

“I’m…” Sam hesitated, as though he didn’t want to tell Dean what he was thinking. “I’m gonna call Rowena.”

“Rowena?” Dean demanded. “Why?”

“Because we don’t know what this is, Dean!” Sam insisted. “For all we know, she got cursed! We were looking into witch activity in the area. Maybe Rowena can help.”

Dean backed off.

“Fine. Call her.”

…

“I can’t heal her.”

“That’s because it’s a spell, you idiot.”

“I can’t be sure of that.”

“Well I can!”

“Ok, ok,” Dean interrupted Rowena and Cas’s argument. “This isn’t helping anything. Rowena, what can you do?”

“Not much I’m afraid,” Rowena sighed. “I can’t undo the spell.”

“Well can you at least tell us what the spell is?” Sam cut in before Dean had a chance to get angry.

“That’s easy enough. It seems to be some kind of…anti-body spell.”

“What does that mean?” Dean demanded.

“It means that her body is slowly starting to reject what it needs or wants the most. Basic needs like food, water, probably even sleep, will start to hurt her.”

“It hurt when I touched her skin,” Sam interrupted.

Rowena shrugged, and continued. “I suppose the need or desire for physical affection counts. It will get worse, though. Things that she can’t live without will be too painful for her to do. Eventually even breathing will be unbearable.”

“It already hurts to breathe.” Everyone had all but forgotten you were there until you made yourself known. Your voice came out in a terrified whisper, but everyone heard you clearly.

“We’re gonna fix it,” Dean asserted. “All we have to do is find the witch, right? Then kill her.”

“It might not be that simple,” Rowena sighed. “I mean, it could’ve been anyone. For all we know, they put a spell on Y/N to make her forget them.”

“Then what are we gonna do?!” Dean demanded.

“You and Cas try to find that witch,” Sam jumped in, trying to find a way to keep panic down. “We already have a head start, since we were pretty sure one was in the area anyway. You know where most of the strange activity was, start there. Rowena and I will stay here, try and see if there’s an undo spell.”

Dean didn’t hesitate to agree. If he wasn’t so preoccupied worrying over you, he would’ve been very proud of Sam, stepping up while he was panicking. Now that Dean had a direction, he was calmer—he was ready.

“Ok. Let’s go.”

…

“Please don’t leave me.”

Dean and Cas had already left, and Rowena and Sam were halfway out of your room when you tear-strained voice reached Sam. He turned to face you, and his resolve to hit the books in the library crumbled when he saw you, shaking in fear and taking shallow, painful breaths.

“Bring me some books to look through,” he muttered to Rowena before coming to sit on your bed.

It was silent in your room for a few deafening seconds, before your shattered gaze met Sam’s and you spoke, breaking his heart.

“I don’t wanna die, Sammy.”

“Hey,” Sam turned to face you, resisting once again the urge to pull you into his arms. “Me and Dean are never gonna let that happen. You know that, right?”

“It-it hurts to breathe,” you cried. “And it keeps getting worse. I don’t—I don’t know how long I can do it.”

“Hey, hey…” Sam was reaching for you when he remembered that that would only make you hurt worse. His hand froze in the air, halfway to your face. “I…” Sam‘s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t…don’t say that, ok? You have to keep fighting, ok? We’re gonna find a way to fix this, but you just have to keep fighting.” Sam was so desperate to hug you that he pulled his sleeves over his hand to cover his skin and pulled you into his arms. You allowed it for several seconds, wanting so desperately to just sink into his arms. But you couldn’t.

“That…” you struggled to get the words out; you didn’t want to say them. “That hurts, too, Sammy.”

Sam flinched back like he’d been shot, looking down at you in utter defeat.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

The despair in the room was total.

…

“I’ve got it!”

Sam regretted his outburst when you jolted awake. Rowena had warned the both of you that sleeping might end up making you hurt more rather than feel better, but you had all but passed out from exhaustion and pain, and Sam didn’t have the heart to stop you. Even in sleep, your body and face twitched in pain periodically.

Now that you were awake, it was obvious that Rowena was right; it had made it worse.

“What—“ your breathing was labored as each breath pained you. “What happened?”

Rowena stepped into the room, having heard Sam’s declaration.

“I found the spell,” Sam insisted, holding the book up. Rowena approached him with a dubious frown. However, once she started to read the spell she slowly nodded.

“This might just do it,” she said.

“I’m gonna call Dean.”

…

Dean and Cas returned within an hour.

“Not a single lead,” Dean said, annoyed. “So this had better work.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sam sighed, looking at Rowena. She nodded.

“It’s a good thing that this bunker is well-stocked,” she said. “I believe we’re running out of time.”

Your gaze turned downwards when everyone glanced at you at Rowena’s words. Sure enough, your breaths had been getting shallower and shorter in your failed attempts to make them hurt less. You were also weak and pale from the lack of food and water you’d had over the past two days.

“Do it.” Dean was the first to look away from you as he spoke to Rowena.

Rowena handed you a cup filled with a mixture of herbs and things you didn’t want to know about. Your lip was quivering as you lifted the cup to your lips—you’d avoided food and water for a reason; if breathing was like a stab to the chest, how would swallowing down a potion feel?

Sam’s heart was breaking as he watched you struggle to swallow through the pain, and Dean couldn’t even look.

As soon as you had the potion down, Rowena started reading a Latin incantation from the book. Sam watched you carefully as Rowena finished it. He crossed his fingers behind his back, holding his breath as he hoped that your own would become less labored. Instead, your eyes widened in surprise as your breaths became even more panicked.

“What’s happening?” Dean demanded, his eyes flashing from you to Rowena. “What did you do?!”

“I-I don’t understand…” Rowena muttered, flipping through the book. “It should have…”

“Sam…De…” you whimpered.

Dean’s panicked eyes met Sam’s, then yours, before they went back to Rowena.

“Found it!” Rowena breathed relief, before her eyes once again clouded with worry. “Oh no.”

“What?” Sam and Dean demanded in unison.

“The-the counterspell…it takes an hour to work, and as it works through the curse, the curse…fights back.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s breathing sounded almost as labored as yours as he struggled to keep down his fear as well as his anger.

“It means that it’ll get worse before it gets better. If we…if we had found this at the beginning, it would’ve worked easily, but…”

“But she might not survive an hour like this,” Cas finished for Rowena, realizing what she was saying before either brother.

“What can we do?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.” Rowena shook her head. “This spell was her only hope, so…so we just have to wait and see if she outlasts the curse now. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour.”

“Ok,” Dean said, coming to sit by you. “You can do this kiddo, ok? We’re gonna be right here, you’re gonna be fine.”

The seconds crawled by one eternity at a time. Every time Dean thought you couldn’t look more in pain, your face twisted again as you tried over and over to take a deep enough breath to satisfy your starving lungs. Once it reached fifteen minutes left, Dean noticed that every minute or so you stopped breathing completely.

“Hey, c’mon.” Dean resisted the urge to cup your face. “C’mon keep breathing, you can do it.”

Suddenly you were reaching your arms out to Dean, and he was backing away.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said.

“Don’t…care,” You whimpered. “I…n-need y—“ you couldn’t seem to get out full words, but Dean didn’t need anything more.

“Ok, yeah.” You were in Dean’s arms in a second. “Ok, I’m here sweetheart. I’m here, you just gotta keep breathing. Keep breathing for me.”

You burrowed against your big brother despite the pain, trying all you could to keep breathing. The pain was so blindingly unbearable that you started to feel your vision blur and blacken. Sam was the first to notice you drooping in Dean’s arms, and he reached down and pulled your face away from Dean’s chest so he could look at you.

“Hey, you gotta stay awake honey,” Sam insisted.

“Don’t let her sleep!” Rowena commanded. “Her body will stop breathing automatically if she passes out.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean’s gentle taps to your face felt like full-on punches, but they did the trick. Your eyes fluttered open once more, and your hands gripped onto Dean even harder. Sam had joined Dean on your bed, his one arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind while Dean continued to hold you in his lap. Their touch was like fire on your skin, but never had a burn been so welcome.

“Keep breathing,” Dean was repeating over and over, and without that mantra you truly would have stopped ten minutes ago.

“Seven more minutes,” Cas announced.

You went to take another small breath, and you couldn’t keep the cry of pain in when it was the worst pain yet. It hit you so hard that you felt the darkness returning.

“No no no, hey,” Dean pleaded. “Breathe kiddo, you’ve gotta keep breathing.”

You’d barely even noticed that you stopped. It felt so good to stop. The pain of your unfilled lungs wasn’t nearly as horrible as the pain of breathing.

The relief was so great that you barely even felt when the blackness finally took over, and you slumped in Dean’s arms.

…

“No no no no…” Dean was shaking you over and over, but you were out cold. “Come on, breathe!”

“Six minutes,” Castiel said.

“She won’t last that long,” Sam breathed.

“It-it’s not an exact science,” Rowena cut in. “It might…maybe it will work a little faster.”

With nothing else to do, the four watched, barely breathing, as your body lay unnaturally still on your bed. Cas was watching his watch like a guard dog, counting the seconds until you would have brain damage…until you could die…

The great, gasping breath that escaped your lips as you sat up had all four onlookers nearly crying in relief. Sam and Dean had already been crying, but even the witch and the angel couldn’t hold in their emotions anymore as you began to breathe deeply again, tears of relief streaming down your own face.

Dean held you in his arms without fear, and you clung to him without pain. Sam’s arm was still around your shoulders—he hadn’t moved an inch.

“You’re ok,” Dean breathed as you cried on his shirt, and no one was sure if he was reassuring you or himself. “You’re ok sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

You refused to let go of your brothers, having spent two days unable to take comfort in them when you needed them most. The three of you stayed like that for so long that eventually Rowena left, but Cas stayed to watch over the Winchesters he had sworn to protect—to watch over the one he’d almost lost.

He watched silently as the three siblings fell asleep—you first, then Sam, then—once he was sure that his little brother and sister were ok—finally Dean.

He watched, knowing that they had almost lost everything today.

He watched, knowing that they would only be closer because of it.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[theostrophywife]

kiss with a fist | chapter one.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: kiss with a fist - florence and the machine.

author's note: i'm so excited to share this series with everyone. this was literally meant to be a one shot fic but i have no self control therefore it spiraled into a whole series. without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter and let me know what you think 🤎

Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure. 

Intelligence, knowledge, wisdom. These were the traits that Ravenclaws valued most, but if the founder of your house could see you now, Rowena Ravenclaw would probably roll over in her grave. 

Because there was nothing smart about falling in love with Theodore Nott. 

In fact, it might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. 

So why did it feel so bloody exhilarating? 

To understand your descent into madness, it was prudent to trace the events back to point zero. 

It was a rainy September afternoon, unusually dreary even for the Scottish Highlands. The first week of your return to Hogwarts had been chaotic to say the least. Between performing your prefect duties by showing the first years around the castle and dealing with the clueless third year that accidentally set off Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs in the Great Hall, you were absolutely knackered by the time Friday rolled around. 

Unfortunately, you had no time to rest. Even though the term just started, you were already spending much of your nights studying until your eyes felt like they were going to fall out of your skull. Tonight, you were in the potions laboratory tackling a particularly stubborn advanced draught. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t figure it out. 

You dropped a sprig of wormwood into the cauldron and stirred counterclockwise then clockwise, just like the recipe instructed. The concoction bubbled to the surface. Holding your breath, you peered into the mixture with hope that this try would finally turn out successful. The potion turned a vibrant magenta color before exploding all over the front of your uniform. 

Sadly, this was the closest you’d come to brewing the Angel’s Trumpet Draught. You sighed, wiping down your tie with a washcloth. It did nothing except make the mess worse. What you needed was a good old fashioned soak.

Luckily, you had access to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. During this time of night, it would be gloriously empty. Giving you the perfect opportunity to wallow in bubbles and self pity. 

The trek from the dungeons to the fifth floor was fortunately uneventful. The hallways were dark and quiet, allowing you to slink off to the bathroom in peace. With a whisper of pine fresh, the pearly gates opened.

You turned on the faucets, setting the temperature just below boiling and dispensing herbs and fragrances into the tub. When you were finally satisfied, you quickly discarded your soiled clothes and eagerly stepped into the warm bath. The scent of rosewater and pink himalayan salt instantly relaxed you. 

You sighed deeply, leaning against the marble tile and closing your eyes. This was definitely not the way you thought seventh year would go. Your last year at Hogwarts was supposed to be the highlight of your academic career. While your housemates fretted and fussed over quidditch games and blood moon balls, you refused to take your eyes off the prize.

Ever the diligent student, you had no interest in extracurriculars unless it brought you closer to your dream of becoming an accomplished potions master, which would hopefully catch the eye of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Joining the prestigious group was a dream that you had been working towards since first year. Blood, sweat, and tears had gone towards achieving this goal, especially during your most recent break. 

You spent the entire holiday interning at the Brewery, attending lectures at the Magical Division of the University of Oxford, and you had not only completed the assigned reading for your Advanced Potions class, but Professor Slughorn’s personal recommendations as well. All of that hard work should have placed you ahead of the curve, but your class rank remained the same as always. 

Second. 

Not first.

Never first.

No, that spot belonged to that rich infuriating smartass pureblooded motherfu—

“Theodore Nott,” you said, lacing your voice with as much venom as you could muster. 

Between the pale moonstone pillars stood the source of your academic anguish. Theodore was dripping sweat, his green and silver quidditch jersey covered in mud and grime. The prefect badge pinned to his robe was barely visible, more brown than silver. His curly brown hair fell erratically across his cheekbones as he brushed a stray strand away to squint in the faint light. 

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk when he recognized you. “You know, most people just call me Theo.” His gaze lingered on your form, which was barely covered by pink suds. “Especially those who know me rather intimately.”

You flushed in response. Amusement danced in his watercolor eyes, which seemed brighter now thanks to his sun kissed complexion. Knowing Nott, he probably spent his summer laying out in the Italian sun while attractive witches fed him grapes by hand. You didn’t get a tan like that from holing up in the English countryside with nothing but a boiling cauldron and a dusty textbook for company. He didn’t even have the audacity to pretend like he was worried about his class ranking. The bastard. 

“Every rule has its exception, Theodore,” you gritted out. “Now get the fuck out.” 

He cocked his head, sending a mass of wavy brown locks to spill to one side. “You’re right. Most people don’t usually say my name like it’s an unforgivable, but I guess you’re special in that way, diavolina mia.”

Little devil, Nott's idea of a fond nickname, irritated you to no end. Your annoyance only made him use it more. Gods, what a wanker. 

“Are you deaf or just thick? This bathroom is occupied,” you huffed, sinking lower into the bubbles. “Leave before I scream bloody murder.” 

Theo smirked. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll be screaming.” He kicked his shoes off, leaving them in a messy pile beside your own neatly arranged boots. “Though the only thing I’ll be murdering is that pu—”

The glare you sent his way would have sent lesser men running for the Forbidden Forest. “I’m serious, Nott. I’ve had a terrible fucking day and I am not giving up the bath.” 

“Neither am I,” he countered. “Practice was brutal. I ate shit on the pitch and all I want to do is to reap my prefect benefits via bubble bath. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to learn how to share, sweetheart.”

You watched in stunned silence as he peeled off his jersey. The moonlight streamed through the glass stained windows, painting him in a surreal sort of light. There was no ounce of shame to be found in Theodore Nott as he stripped off his trousers and stood stark naked in the middle of the bathroom. 

Look away, you thought. Look the fuck away now.  

But like a moth to a flame, you found yourself horribly drawn to the cocky, arrogant, son of a bludger. His tall frame cut an imposing figure in the dark as slivers of moonlight danced across his ridiculously toned chest and well-defined abs. He was neither brawny nor scrawny, but somewhere in the middle, which unfortunately happened to be your sweet spot. 

To make matters worse, the smug prick seemed perfectly aware of your ogling. You could’ve sworn Theo flexed as he stalked towards you. Unlike most boys his age, he wasn’t awkward or bumbling. Theo was confident in his body. Too confident. 

You sighed. “Can you at least attempt to be decent?” 

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

As if you needed a reminder of this ongoing tryst between you. Theo waded to your side, leaning his head back as the warm water sloshed around him. His eyes fluttered close, those thick lashes of his kissing the top of his cheekbones. Water trickled down his collarbone and you had to fight the urge to lean over and lick it off. 

“I told you, last time was—“ 

“The last time,” Theo finished. “I’m perfectly aware, principessa. You say it every time.” 

“I mean it this time.” 

He cocked his head, flashing those hypnotizing eyes at you. “Oh?” Theo drawled slowly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair that had escaped from your braid. “Did my poor little Ravenclaw finally find the courage to say no to the big bad Slytherin?” 

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips against your throat. “Fuck,” you whispered. 

“Go on then, love,” Theo hummed against your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot beneath your earlobe, making you involuntarily arch into him. Slender fingers wrapped around the base of your throat, holding you in place. “Tell me what you want, diavolina.” 

You sighed in defeat. “Stop being an asshole and kiss me, Nott.” 

Theo grabbed the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours like a man starved. After months of going without, you came to the horrid realization that you craved this as much as he did. You crawled into his lap, straddling him as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. 

I am a stupid girl, you thought. A stupid, horny girl who had no business snogging Theodore Nott. 

One, you were bitter rivals. Two, Theo awakened a dangerous side of you that defied all logic. This whole fucked up situation started because of your lapse of judgment last winter. As always, Theo had said or done something to annoy you during class and in return you hexed his drink to taste like dragon dung. He retched for a week straight. Somehow Snape found out that you were to blame and placed both of you in detention.

One thing led to another in the potions classroom and you ended up with your skirt around your waist and Theo’s head between your legs. You quickly resolved that the only way to shut him up was to keep him occupied and occupied he was. Ever since then, the two of you had been at it like rabbits. 

You thought that you would leave all of it behind in sixth year, but barely a week into this term and you were already repeating the pattern. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all summer,” Theo groaned into your mouth. 

“That’s cute, Nott,” you responded sarcastically. “Miss me over the holidays, did you?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about this too. You’ve been testier than a Hungarian Horntail since the minute you got off the platform. I could tell that you haven’t been properly fucked since our little impromptu goodbye in the broom closet last spring.” 

“You’re absolutely repulsing.” 

He smirked. “Then why are you pulling me closer?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.” 

“You could say please.” 

“I could,” you said with a shrug before gripping his cock and lining him up at your entrance. Theo groaned as you sank down into him with a satisfied little smirk. “But I won’t.” 

The moan that came out of his mouth barely sounded human. “Fuck,” he said, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “How do you always feel so fucking good?” 

You knew what he meant. As much as you hated to admit it, Theo was right. You hadn’t gotten properly laid since your last tryst. There had been other boys this summer, but none of them made you feel like this. Because sex with Theo wasn’t just sex. It was warfare. You fucked like you both had something to prove. 

Even now, as you grinded your hips against him, Theo thrusted upwards with equal force like you were competing for the bloody house cup. You ran your fingers through his hair, frowning a little. 

“What?” Theo asked. 

“Did you cut your hair?” 

He grinned as he trailed kisses along your jaw. “You don’t like it?”

“Less to hold onto.”

“Don’t worry dolcezza,” Theo chuckled darkly. He squeezed your thighs and pressed you against him roughly. “I’ll make sure to hold on tight for the both of us.”

You hummed in agreement before sinking down again, setting a steady rhythm as you rode him with reckless abandon. For someone who valued logic, every ounce of common sense you possessed went out the window when it came to this infuriating boy. 

Maybe you were a masochist. But as Theo thrust sharply into you, the stupid little voice in your head said that you didn’t really mind the pain. 

You moaned as Theo tilted your chin, capturing your lips with his. It was a clash of tongue and teeth as you fought for dominance, putting your bodies to the test. He knew exactly what buttons to press, which sensitive spots to hit, how to challenge you physically and mentally. 

“Gods, right there.” You whimpered, digging your fingernails into his back. Theo’s hypnotizing eyes snapped to yours, piercing through every layer until you felt even more bare than you already were. “Don’t fucking stop, please.”

He smirked. “So you do have bedside manner after all.” 

“Not for you,” you said as you grinded down hard, making Theo bite into your shoulder. 

“Salazar fucking save me,” he grunted. 

“Your founder can’t save you now, Nott.” 

“Cruel, ruthless woman.” Theo looked up at you like he was praying to the stars. His movements stilled as your gazes collided. “Tell me you missed this. Tell me that no one else makes you feel like this.” 

You whined at the loss of friction. “You’ve picked a shit time to get all sentimental on me, Nott.”

“It’s not sentiment, it’s the truth,” Theo declared, thrusting lazily. “And I want to hear you say it.” 

“Why?”

“Call it curiosity,” he said casually. “I want to know if I measure up to the boys back in Oxford.”

Not even close, you thought. But you were not about to admit that out loud. 

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” 

Theo chuckled before sinking his teeth into your neck. “But I’m not a cat, little bird. I’m a snake and I’m coiled around you ready to strike if you say the word.” 

You shivered slightly. This constant back and forth, all the bickering and banter, was just you and Theo’s sick and twisted version of foreplay. Gods, you fucking missed it. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. “Theodore Nott, you are an infuriating little shit but you fuck like an absolute demon. I missed sneaking around with you in the broom closet, the charms classroom, the astronomy tower, and wherever else we managed to defile in this bloody castle. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

The shiteating grin on his face almost made you want to take it all back, but then he flipped you over, laying you down on the cold marble tile and staring at you with so much lust in his eyes that you felt the depths of his desire in your core. He crawled over you, water trickling down his tanned skin. 

“Close enough,” he remarked before hiking your leg over his shoulder and burying himself so deep that you clawed the edge of the tub to keep yourself from slipping. 

The rest of it was a blur of skin on skin as Theo unleashed himself on you. His mouth, his fingers, his cock were all just tools of seduction that he wielded with lethal precision. 

The pleasure washed over you in waves, crashing again and again as he made you cum not once, not twice, but a total of three times. By the time he reached his peak, you were so exhausted that the two of you collapsed in the dark. 

You laid side by side, staring up at the domed glass ceiling in stunned silence. After a moment, Theo turned over to face you.

“So?” 

“So what?”

“Did I manage to knock that stick out of your arse?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing off the tile. “And that���s my cue to leave.”

“I’m kidding. I’m good, but I’m not that good,” Theo teased, following closely behind as you put your clothes back on. He eyed the bright magenta stain on the front of your uniform. “What happened there? Did you murder some poor unsuspecting pygmy puff?” 

“No, but I did a number on the potions lab,” you lamented with a sigh. “That stupid Angel’s Trumpet Draught is bloody impossible to brew.” 

“That old thing?” Theo asked, pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his quidditch bag. “I finished it ages ago.” 

You gaped, nearly tumbling over your own skirt. “How? I followed the recipe word for word and this disastrous stain was all I managed to achieve.”

“Sometimes you have to go off the book,” he replied. “Experiment a little.” 

“No thanks, I’d rather keep all my limbs intact.”

“I think you’re doing a rather splendid job of endangering yourself all on your own,” Theo said sarcastically. He cocked his head as you slipped on your boots. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show you how to brew the draught in exchange for a favor.” 

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “What kind of favor?” 

“That’s for me to decide and for you to accept.” 

“I’d rather not give an egomaniac a nuclear advantage.” 

Theo rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not, diavolina?” 

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “But only because I’m desperate.” 

“Words every bloke is dying to hear.” 

Without a word, he tossed a mass of balled up fabric in your direction. “What’s this?” 

“A jumper, an article of clothing generally worn to retain warmth in colder climates,” Theo deadpanned.

“I know what a jumper is, you tosser. Why are you giving it to me?” 

“Because, you’ll get a cold walking around like that,” Theo explained with a longsuffering sigh as though you were a clueless first year. The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Plus, I can see your nipples through your blouse and as much as I enjoy the view, I doubt that flashing Filch is at the top of your bucket list.” 

“You truly are appalling,” you replied, shrugging the slightly faded jumper on. The thing was so worn that you couldn’t even make out the inscription on the front. The fabric swallowed you whole, skimming the top of your thighs. It also smelled like sea salt and smoke and boy. One boy in particular. 

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He grinned, showing off those stupid little dimples of his. “Meet me in the potions lab tomorrow. Eight o’clock sharp, just like old times. And bring a muffin.” 

“For the draught?’ 

“No, for me.” Theo said, holding the door open. “I’ll need motivation if I’m spending my Saturday morning with you.” 

You slipped into the hallway and flipped him the bird. His laughter followed you in the dark like an annoying shadow.

“See you tomorrow, my little pygmy puff!”

Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303@letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe  @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup  @aliensknowmyillusions

[ahyperactivehero]

REASONS TO WATCH DEAD BOY DETECTIVES

ALSO! if you follow me on here and somehow haven't watched dead boy detectives yet, I am BEGGING you to do so! we need all the streams we can get to try and save this show. I have no way of repaying you, other than knowing you will be making a mutual very, very happy.

reasons why you should watch it:

Dead Boy Detectives is a wonderfully, unquestionably queer show. Most of the main/reoccurring characters are queer, with the others who aren't being very queer coded.

It feels like old school Supernatural or Buffy but made for today's audience and queer. Add in the mystery/detective aspect and you've got the perfect recreation of SuperWhoLock my friend, all in one show.

Actors/Writers from Supernatural also worked on this. Everyone knows the wonderful Ruth Connell who played Rowena on Supernatural! And Steve Yockey was a writer/producer for some great episodes of Supernatural. There's also everyone's favorite trickster angel, Richard Speight Jr, who directed one of the best episodes of television ever in Dead Boy Detectives called The Case of the Very Long Stairway.

While this show is wonderful for the romantic aspect of it, it is- at it's heart, a show about love and acceptance. Edwin's journey of self-discovery and his queer identity is not one you see every day on TV, but it is done so well! Each one of the characters have such interesting, fully developed arcs that really tie together the fact that they are all just teens who the world would rather forget about, but they won't let it. Not as long as they are around, they will always have someone who remembers them.

Dead Boy Detectives deserves to continue. It deserves to finish telling the story they set out to. It deserves to be remembered.

[aethon-recs]

This Week in Tomarrymort (23 – 29 August 2024)

An exciting week in Tomarrymort land! 🎉 Some highlights and news:

aurora polaris (E, 217k, Voldemort wins AU with a side of amnesia!Harry) by @aglassroseneverfades finished with a 2-chapter update.

A Dangerous Game (E, 316k, Diary Tom in Harry's time) by @cybrid updated with a 9-chapter drop, and we are one chapter (only the epilogue!) away from the end.

AO3 user beetaker dropped a 135k completed fic this week alone??? (Dulce Et Decorum Mori - E, 135k, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle grow up together) It’s rarer than a blue moon that we see huge drops like this in Tomarry, so be sure not to miss it, as the whole fic posted all in this week.

The @tomarryverse Discord server is running a fest (AO3 collection link).

See below for a list of either ongoing Tomarrymort fics that I’m subscribed to or one shots that I found while browsing that were updated in the last week.

Previous Tomarrymort weeklies: 7-15 August 2024 | 15-22 August 2024

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapters 38 and 39 (complete) of aurora polaris by @aglassroseneverfades

Chapters 1 through 10 (complete) of Dulce Et Decorum Mori by beetaker

One Shot | Big Things by @dividawrites

One Shot | phases of the moon by @jjaegerb0mb

One Shot | fundamentals of internet safety by @cindle-writes

One Shot | New Category: Pining Homosexuals by kcg07

One Shot | The Snake Speakers by sparrowshellcat

One Shot | Dawn Over Dust by Wolf_of_Lilacs

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapters 52 through 60 of A Dangerous Game by @cybrid

Chapter 6 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 6 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 31 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 6 of Like we were before by tzutzutrain

Chapters 1 and 2 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapter 5 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 32 of Terrible, But Great by @isalisewrites

Chapters 114 through 116 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 14 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapter 9 of Lovely and the Lion by @skellington24

Chapter 13 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 9 of Unfamiliar Recognition by @karnage-tsurugi

Chapter 8 of A Snake in the Grass by @teaandsweaters9

Chapter 3 of the silence in between by ermineah

Chapter 19 of What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes

Chapter 1 of In My Lover's Room (i am free) by @bunnieblair

Chapter 7  of we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee

Chapter 2 of quid pro quo by marshall_1300

Chapter 6 of His condition by @ciacconne

Chapter 16 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapter 4 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain

Chapter 1 of friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight

Chapter 3 of Cane Sugar by @blogalinda @cindle-writes @reggieblk @telectronique

Chapter 1 of before the day is done by @midsummersins

Chapter 3 of midnight train by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 5 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb

Chapter 4 of In a world where you and I dance by thelxiepeia

Chapter 19 of Occultation by TimaeusKosmou

*

[rowenabean]

Have really truly coped with this year via compartmentalising

I have had SO many things to do before I can leave and it really has been, like, April I finished my GP college paperwork and applied for the assessment, May I prepared the house to put on the market, in June I suddenly realised I actually needed a real estate agent too (and also had covid which took me out for a week, SAT the assessment which filled another week, and went to my dad's birthday) and now I am SHOOKEth to realise I should probably enrol for the paper i'm planning to do second semester. It starts in 3 weeks. No I didn't realise that either

[bunnysbrainrot]

Vices and Virtues

Kinktober prompt: Threesome

Relationship: Crowley/Castiel x Reader

Content: 18+ only; threesome, unprotected sex, throat fucking, p in v, creampie, degradation, double penetration, oral (f and m receiving)

Summary: After a drunken ramble, an Angel of the Lord, and the King of Hell, both take on your challenge. Turns out, Angels can be just as depraved as demons.

A/N: to make Kinktober a little more exciting, i wanted to go with a pairing that doesn’t happen too often! if you have requests for other characters, let me know!

Angels and demons have been polar opposites for millennia. Before you’d gotten into hunting, discovering what lurks in the dark, you had a basic idea of ‘good’ and ‘evil’. After some time you realized that, surprisingly, angels are dicks. It was something Dean professed every now and again.

Over time, while getting to know both an angel and a demon, it opened your eyes to a morally gray truth. Demons can sometimes have their reasons for raising Hell, sometimes even literally. Angels, despite their reputation in modern religion, weren’t always good.

Both angels and demons have both proven themselves at breaking their stereotypes. Demons weren’t always headstrong about painful torture, and angels cared too little about being ‘perfectly innocent”.

That realization hit you even harder now that you lay sprawled on the bed, with two pairs of eyes staring you down.

You were fully clothed, but with the way these two looked at you, you may as well have been stark naked. Crowley had been utterly silent, shifting glances between you and the angel. Contemplating.

Castiel, who had before been so awkward before, held an air of confidence, looking at you intently and giving a dark nod to Crowley. You sat up fully, crossing your legs as you looked between the two men, though that was a loose term.

“So,” you started, “what’s up?”

Your tone was level, but it didn’t dismiss the blush spread on your face, or the way your hair on your arms stood on end. You’d known precisely how you’d gotten into this situation, and it was all because of a stupid question a few weeks ago.

It was a simple evening for everyone to relax. You, the Winchesters, Crowley, Castiel, and Rowena had been drinking since you’d all gotten home from a long hunt. More like mission, really, but you were all home safe, and one piece. Some parts of that night had become fuzzy, but you couldn’t forget what you’d said to Castiel and Crowley when the others had left, or simply passed out.

“You think angels and demons have ever… heh… done it? Like, together?” Your words slurred together in a drunken stupor.

Castiel had given you a thoughtful look, but stared at the ceiling as he gave an answer.

“It would be possible, though it’s rather confusing. I can’t imagine an angel and demon taking one another into… the bedroom.”

Crowley piped up, “It’s only because our feathery friends think they’re above that. Total prudes, if you ask me.”

“Good thing no one asked you,” Castiel quipped, sipping his drink.

You’d all laughed it off, thinking that was the only time you would talk about it. After all, it was just a hypothetical joke, a drunken ramble.

You’d been wrong about that. It seemed that Crowley and Cas remembered every word and flirty smile you gave them that night. Crowley took a step toward you with his hands tucked behind his back, a smug smile spread across his face.

“I’m sure you recall what you’d said to us back then, about angels and demons, and their time in the bedroom.”

Shit.

You froze, eyes wide up at him while he continued.

“It got me thinking,” Crowley nodded to Castiel, “that it could be more authentic if you had the real experience.”

You reeled over his words, the pit of your stomach grew heavy as you realized just what he meant. Castiel followed Crowley’s lead and stepped toward you, his face still as stone.

“Cas?” you asked, “Are you okay with this?”

He nodded solemnly, “I didn’t know how to… navigate the situation. I was given some help.”

You cocked your head to the side, looking between the two in confusion. Crowley smiled, nodding to the angel.

“I may have given Feathers a little something to, well, help us in this. Our sweet Castiel was feeling shy, so I decided to lend him a hand.”

Castiel rubbed his nose quickly, and it clicked. Crowley must have given him some sort of aphrodisiac for tonight. Castiel shifted on his feet, glancing down to his crotch, assessing when something would kick in.

“Come here, sweetness,” commanded the King of Hell, ushering you over with beckoning fingers. You did as you were told, striding over to the demon.

Crowley cupped your cheek, sweeping his thumb across your cheekbone. His eyes raked over your face, hovering on your lips before he leaned in, planting a soft kiss. You hummed into him, letting out a high moan into his mouth when you felt another warm body from behind.

A set of hands gripped your hips and drew them back, brushing fully against a newly hard Castiel. He ground into you gently as Crowley moved his lips fluidly with your own. A breath caught in your throat when Castiel’s lips found your neck, trained on the soft spot below your ear.

He sucked at your throat, adding a painful pressure that sent heat straight to your core. The marks you would have later would have a complicated explanation, for certain.

You whined softly into Crowley’s mouth, bringing out a deep hum from him. The demon’s hands finally moved down your body, taking their time over your shoulders, down to your chest, and to your waist. He kneaded softly at the supple flesh of your middle. Your head was spinning from the rush, unsure as to which man you should give your attention.

Sometimes, Castiel’s ability to read minds was irritating, but it was your saving grace tonight. His voice creeped over your hot skin as a low growl.

“You’re nervous,” he whispered. “You can’t decide what to do, correct? All I ask is that you breathe. Relax. Let us take care of the rest.”

You let out a bated breath, melting into the two men that kept you from falling apart at their voices. Castiel’s hands wandered to your front and moved upwards to your chest, gently palming your breasts through your shirt. You mewled softly when his fingers brushed over your nipples; he toyed with the hardened buds, rolling them between his fingers.

Crowley slipped under your shirt, pushing it upwards to your collarbone, exposing your aching breasts to the cold air of the room. He dipped his head to your chest, taking claim of a nipple from Castiel, swirling a warm tongue around it. You arched your chest into his touch, stomach tightening with each movement.

There was an air of urgency around you. You needed more, the glorious torture sent you in a tizzy, desperate for attention to your aching sex. Each part of you throbbed in unison, a soft cry for their touch.

“Someone’s growing impatient,” Castiel murmured against your skin. Crowley chuckled in reply before breaking away from you. He stared at you mischievously, snapping his fingers.

In the blink of an eye, your clothes vanished, as did Castiel and Crowley’s. Two thick cocks landed against your body, eager and throbbing with each grind into your nude form. Castiel eased his length against the middle of your ass, pumping himself on you. Crowley ground into you from the front, his heavy length pressed into your stomach.

Every part of you ached in need. To be touched. To be ravaged. To be fully used.

Crowley brought a hand to your neck, pressing firmly on either side to give you that crazed pleasure from lack of air. He urgently crashed his lips to yours as you struggled to breathe. His hand released you from its grip; the blood rushing back in had you panting, a sloppy smile on your face as you ogled the demon.

It was Castiel’s hands that were more greedy, to your surprise. He took his time groping your ass, your hips, your breasts.

“Seems that our angel appreciates your looks just as much as I do,” Crowley purred against your neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake. You shivered at the air that blew across your skin, bucking your hips into Castiel’s length.

Crowley pulled you with him as he neared the bed, Castiel wasn’t far behind, pumping his cock with a fervent hand.

You sat on the edge of the bed. Crowley gently kissed your jaw, reaching your ear.

“Lay down, darling.”

Crawling to the top of the bed, you laid your head against the pillows. Castiel stood to your right, now making his way toward you. The bed dipped as both men came to your side, splitting up and moving to each end of your body.

Crowley trailed his tongue along your thigh, nipping your skin along the way. You reached upward to Cas, carding your fingers into his hair before tugging him down to you, pressing your lips to his.

As if it were lock and key, Castiel quickly took you over, kissing you with unmatched passion. His hands found your chest as they’d done before, twisting your nipple to bring out another high-pitched whine into his mouth.

Your legs were being urged apart, spread completely before Crowley, who awed at the sight of your wet slit, pulsing with each heartbeat and inviting entry. He dipped lower, nestling comfortably between your legs. His tongue jutted out and licked a wide stripe through your folds. Your hips bucked onto his tongue as it passed over your clit.

Castiel pulled away, “Does this feel good?”

The angel, as always, cared about you deeply. Your pleasure was his responsibility tonight, and he wanted to make sure he and Crowley were delivering the best service to you.

You nodded, gasping when Crowley wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking the swollen bud while his tongue flicked across the bundle of nerves. You needed more. To touch them.

Until now, you’d been so quickly overcome with pleasure you’d lost all sense to return the favor. You reached toward Cas blindly, finding his cock and wrapping your hand firmly around the shaft. He grunted as you pumped him with a tight grip, brushing your thumb over the head of his cock, now slick with precum.

You twisted your top half to face him, gripping the back of Castiel’s thigh and pulling him closer. His cock prodded your cheek before your tongue guided him into your mouth, swirling around the tip. He shuddered, bucking his hips eagerly into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you bobbed your head on his length, pushing yourself lower and lower until the head of his cock slammed into the back of your throat.

“Fuck,” Castiel cursed, paired with a low moan He stared in amazement as you worked on him, the way your lips looked better wrapped around him. An image he knew would never leave his mind.

Crowley drew your attention back to him, pressing a finger to your slick entrance, dipping in with ease. He curled the digit to brush your g-spot, sending a wave of heat across your skin. You moved your hips on his finger, whining around Castiel’s cock in your effort to get more pressure.

“Not a good… angle,” Castiel said gruffly. He pulled himself from your mouth, a string of spit showing you just how sloppy you’d gotten. Crowley broke his mouth away from your pussy, his fingers still pumping into you as Castiel took hold of your shoulders.

The angel tugged you sideways and backwards. Your head hung off the side of the bed, directly in front of Castiel’s thighs. His cock thumped against your jaw, a silent command to open your mouth. You slacked your jaw to allow him in, sucking him greedily.

He cradled your head in his hands, thrusting his hips into your mouth, the head of his cock hit the back of your throat with more ease this time. From this angle, he could fully use your throat, warm and tight.

“Good,” cooed the angel, shoving himself further into your mouth, “Good girl, open up.”

Your mouth had never felt more full, now being stuffed by Castiel’s dick. Tears stung in your eyes, falling past your cheeks and into your hair. You gagged on his length, barely finding a second to breathe. Cas stilled and pulled out of your mouth, patting your cheek lightly.

“Take a breath,” he instructed.

It was hard to do so when there was a demon’s fingers buried in your cunt. You cried out when Crowley’s pace quickened, with the tension in your abdomen you could hardly breathe at all.

Crowley shifted himself into his knees, leaning over to watch your expression as he pounded his fingers against your walls. You gaped up at him, straining your neck to watch his smile grow as an orgasm took you over wholly. Blinding white light clouded your vision as you clenched around his fingers.

Between your soft whimpers, Crowley praised you, “That’s a good girl. You look so beautiful like this.”

You relished in the praise, eagerly opening your mouth for Castiel once again. He pushed himself past your lips, striking the back of your mouth and easing into you slowly, filling your throat. He thrusted slowly at first, but quickly lost himself in the tightness of your throat, his hips hurting harshly into your mouth. You gagged loudly around him, but it went ignored. Castiel kept his relentless pace, glancing to Crowley and giving him a nod.

As he fucked your throat, Crowley positioned himself at your soaked folds, pressing the thick tip of his cock against your swollen clit. You cry out around Cas’s cock, drowned out by a harsh gag when he shoved himself in fully. He eased out of you as Crowley eased himself in, their movements in tandem with one another.

Hissing through gritted teeth, Crowley stretched you inch by inch, snapping his hips into yours as he bottomed out. You’d never though someone could be filled so easily, to feel like both ends of your body would be split right down the middle.

Crowley moved slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Castiel let up his movements, staring longingly at your pussy, now wrapped nicely around the demon’s cock. If there was a good word for how he felt, it would be jealousy.

The angel grew frustrated, a new wave of sadistic pleasure taking him over.

He smacked your cheek, “I’m not done.”

You opened your mouth dutifully, moaning around his cock. He kept his pace slow this time, giving your throat some well-needed relief. You wound your tongue around the head when he pulled from you, sucking harshly around his tip, bringing out a soft whimper. His hips sputtered slightly before he quickly pulled back, breathing heavily.

“Careful, Castiel,” Crowley teased, pulling you down onto his cock. “Keep going like that, you’ll disappoint our little toy, here.”

Castiel glared at the demon. His chest heaved with his heavy breaths, trying to recollect himself before going further. He lifted your shoulders and adjusted you back onto the bed. Crowley kept himself buried deep in your stretched pussy, jutting his hips to strike deeper and crash against your cervix.

There was no way you could disappointed this night. Not with the way your body was being taken advantage of, in the best way imaginable. You clenched down onto Crowley’s length, making him groan at the tightness of your walls. They fluttered around him as another climax crept up. With a few quick thrusts, the demon had you falling apart on his cock.

He laughed softly, “Slutty little thing, getting spit roasted like that. Two cocks using you until you’re all filled up.”

Crowley kept your gaze as he pounded into you, his balls slapping against your ass with every deep thrust. The noises coming from your pussy were wet, sloppy, and utterly divine. It was just what Crowley needed to hear, to know he was doing his job right.

A pair of lips found yours once again, moving smoothly against you as you shuddered around Crowley again. The shockwaves of your orgasm were hardly over before Crowley pulled his length out of your sweet cunt, stretched and aching to be filled again.

“Let’s have you on your knees, kitten,” Crowley directed, lifting you up to a sitting position. His gaze softened as he looked you over. Castiel gave you a concerned look.

“Is this still okay for you?” the angel asked, eyes keening for your answer.

You nodded quickly, looking between the two men, “Of course. It’s wonderful. I was wondering if… well…” you trailed off.

Crowley lifted your chin to look at him, “Use your words, princess.”

Biting your lips, you thought about how to phrase the words. You looked sheepishly between them, “I was wondering if you could take turns. From behind, I mean.”

A darkness pooled in his eyes at the thought. To use you so freely was a blessing he’d realized he went so long without. After this, he hoped you’d remember who you belonged to this night, whose names you would be screaming.

Crowley backed up, allowing you room to position yourself. You crept toward the edge of the bed, ass up in the air, your sore pussy in full view for them. They both approached you, gazing at the lewd sight before them. You pathetically ground your hips into nothing, your hole and clit being neglected as they took their time.

“Tell me, sweetheart, who’s this?” Crowley asked lowly. A cock sat at your entrance, teasing your hole before easing inside, stretching you out slowly. You were fucked slowly, letting your body adjust and asses the feeling. Hips snapped into yours, the cock crashing against your cervix. These movements felt different from before. The length still filled you, but not as it had done with Crowley.

“Cas… Castiel,” you whimpered.

“Smart girl,” Castiel said from behind. He rolled his hips into you, sending his cock deep into your pussy. A familiar wetness leaked from you down to your clit, completely soaked in your slick. Castiel eased himself into you until he reached the hilt of his length, stilling inside of you, processing the way your walls wrapped around him, slick and hot.

Ready to be used.

His hips crashed into you without warning. You bit into the sheets as you cried through gritted teeth. Castiel fucked you mercilessly, his balls smacking against your clit and sending shocks of pleasure to your heat, wrapping ever tighter around the angel’s cock. He grunted in response, landing a blow to your ass. A wide pink handprint now decorated your skin, followed by a series of other blows to deepen the rosy color.

Crowley tapped Castiel on the shoulder. You overheard him talking to the angel between your cries of ecstasy.

“Fill that cunt to the brim, Castiel. Use that hole properly.”

On command, Castiel’s thrusts became harsher, more frantic. His thick cock stretched your walls with each movement as he slammed himself into your cervix. Your stomach tightened as you came around him, letting out a loud cry of his name into the sheets.

Quickly undone, Castiel felt a rush over him when you said his name. His thrusts faltered again, cock twitching as he spilled his load into you. He pushed deeper as he finished, fucking his cum deeper inside of your cunt.

Crowley smiled at this, smirking to the angel. “Bred like the perfect little bitch. Good work, Castiel.”

Sweat pooled at Castiel’s brow, streaking down his face as he composed himself, regaining his breath. He looked to Crowley with a drained look before pulling from you. You whined as he left you empty.

Castiel resigned to the bed, flopping back to lay by your side. He shifted to brace himself on his arm, stroking a hand through your hair. Little praises flowed from him while Crowley lined himself with your entrance.

“You’re doing so wonderfully, sweetheart.”

You gave him a lazy smile, exhausted from the toll he’d taken on you. Your attention snapped back when you felt the head of Crowley’s cock press at your pussy, coated with what of Castiel’s cum had dripped out of you. He gripped the base of his cock and eased into you as he’d done before, filling you up deeper from this angle.

After a moment he was fully settled in, feeling your warmth around his length. Crowley groaned lowly as he began to thrusts, achingly slow at first.

Hardly done, and you were sore, to say the least. The internal battle of your soreness, versus the sweet sensation of a cock filling you, could never be won. You pushed your hips onto his length, smacking softly against his hips. In reply, Crowley harshly gripped your hips and began to pick up his pace.

Each moan was a symphony, a song of whines and groans that could only be one thing.

Pure, frenzied pleasure.

You arched your back when Castiel’s hands roamed over your perk nipples, fondling each breast as best he could given the angle. You hoisted yourself up on your elbows to grant him permission to go further. His calloused hands ran across your chest to your face, cupping it gently while he watched your expression contort with each deep thrust.

Castiel smiled warmly as you cried out Crowley’s name, unable to move from the grip the angel had on you. His eyes were glued to yours. He wouldn’t dare miss a second of this.

After he’d felt you before, Crowley was just as easily spellbound by the way you took him. Each thrust pulled him further to the edge of his own orgasm, but he was intent on drawing another one from you before he did so.

“Who does this belong to?” Crowley’s voice was soft as the finest silk.

At this point, each sensation rolling through you left you gasping, all rationale had left you completely.

You dumbly whimpered out a reply, “You… both of you.”

Crowley snapped his hips into yours, setting his cock impossibly deep inside your pussy. His pace was, arguably, more intense than Castiel’s, ravaging you whole as you shuddered around him. Your climax tore through you like lightning - your vision blurred, eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

“Smart girl. You’ll get your reward very soon,” Crowley said sweetly.

Your clenched down onto him, smiling to yourself when you felt the King’s cock twitch inside of you. Crowley breathed haggardly but remained intent on his brutal pace, stretching every warm inch of your cunt to fit his cock perfectly.

Castiel’s lips caught your own, swallowing the sweet sounds you made when Crowley’s thrusts began to grow sloppy. Crowley slammed himself into you once, twice, three times until his own orgasm hit him. He slowed his movements as his own released spilled inside of you, coating your tight cunt in his cum - a reward for your obedience.

He pulled from you slowly, his drained cock hanging heavily at your ass. Warmth flooded over you as cum leaked from your pussy, staining the sheets beneath you. You lowered yourself to sit on your knees. What all had been resting inside of your sex was still flowing out of you - it was it’s own reward for being of service to these two men, after all.

Castiel presented a newly-summoned washcloth, warm and damp to the touch. He left it up to you to clean yourself before snapping his fingers, cleaning himself entirely.

“Oh, please, Cas. Where are your manners?” Crowley said, snapping.

In an instant you were fully clean and dry, melting into the mattress with a sigh. Crowley’s clothes had come back, as did Castiel’s a moment later. The two men sat your side, looking over you with pure endearment.

“I certainly hope that that was okay,” whispered Crowley, carding his fingers through your hair. You nodded, groggily shifting yourself to sit up with them. Each movement reminded you of how sore you’d be tomorrow. Regardless, it was an unforgettable experience you’d think about for a very, very long time.

With another snap of his fingers, Crowley handed you a set of thick, cozy pajamas, paired with fuzzy socks. You smiled at him, thankful that he valued your comfort.

“Are you sore at all?” Castiel piped up.

You nodded, “It’s okay, though. I like it.”

Castiel’s brows furrowed, “Humans are strange… some of you like being in pain. It is a foreign concept.”

“We could make it not-so-foreign, if you’d like,” Crowley retorted. Castiel simply rolled his eyes instead of the signature glare. You shuffled into your pajamas and sat back on the bed.

Neither the angel nor the demon left your side, instead leaning back into the bed with you.

“Staying?” you asked, “I was going to put on a movie.”

Castiel powered on the TV, “Take your pick.”

[acesentialsketches]

Pair of sketchy TFs I did last night. First is a Rowena TF, triggered by a fursuit head! Looked up some fursuit head "skeletons" to get the look right. If I ever did get a fursuit of Rowe done, I'd be super particular about how her face looks.

Second is a three step sequence of Waai Fu. I think she's real cute, but her design is so complex. As gacha game characters tend to be, but aaaaaa-

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Baking With BF!Dean Winchester Headcanons

✨ Dean Winchester x GN!Reader ✨

*sighs in 2014 was 10 years ago* Minors do NOT interact, this is not “rizz-ing!” Off you go!

A/N: I love writing these because they’re like half baked yet surprisingly endearing thoughts and it’s fun haha.

Icons by me!

All notes are appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

Content Warning: I have a bad sense of humor and make some sex jokes but nothing too explicit, at least I think so. Definitely still 18+

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

-3 favorite things to bake with him

1. Pie (obvs)

2. Brownies (sometimes with pot…)

3. Cookies (all kinds)

-okay, now that that's been established...

-one day you had jokingly suggested the bunker should do a cookie jar

-this was taken seriously; not only by Dean, Sam and Cas; but also by literally every regular passerby. Even Rowena's made a batch of red velvet cookies. (We threw those ones away, we couldn't trust that they weren't poisoned, made of blood, or both)

-but if it's just the usual crew (you, the brothers, and Cas) then you have a weekly rotation

-and Dean regularly suckers you into "helping" him, even though you both knows he’s capable of being a big boy (and I mean he is a big boy if you catch my drift) and doing it himself

-those candy apple green eyes work wonders

-anyhoo

-one of his favorite, stupidly cheesy things to do is as follows:

-you’ll have a taste of the batter/dough/filling, as one does (it’s always good cause the two of you together are an unstoppable force in the kitchen) (alone is a different story- it’s usually Kraft Mac n Cheese cups)

-and while you’re trying it, making faces, he’ll look over and innocently ask if he can try it

-like “Can I get some, sweetheart?” (And yes he most certainly can get some.) (batter, I mean) (definitely batter) or “can I try some, doll?”

-and no matter how many times he’s tried it you’ll say yes

-so he’ll lean down, cupping your cheeks in his rough hands and kiss you as passionately as humanly possible

-like, these kisses could literally bake the cookies or whatever because of how hot they are

-and he’ll make sure he really gets to try it

-and then he’ll pull back with a smirk, cause he’s done it at least 30 times before and you still let him and still like melt into a puddle every single time. Without fail.

-you guys like to put on Disney soundtracks in the background when you bake. High school musical and Moana primarily, but he’s also taken with the soundtrack of Julie and the Phantoms. (He complained about the show being unrealistic supernaturally speaking and then was adamant that there should be a season two and cancelling it was a crime worthy of hell)

-also, rock, obviously. As a fan of Bon Jovi, you best believe you sell him on them and slow dance to Bed of Roses while things are in the oven. It’s only right.

-if you’re listening to heat of the moment and Sam the baby giraffe walks in he will get those sad eyes, making both of you scramble to make him something else, like some keto hidden veggie brownies or some shit, to make him feel better

-now, in specifics

-pie is for fun. You two usually make one to split for after dinner. Roughly once a month, but should be more often. Well, that’s not fair if you count creampies

-apple is his favorite, ofc. You use Mary’s recipe, and you’re the only person in the whole wide world that he trusts with modifying it in any way

-you also make them for him if he’s sick or if you guys have for some reason had a fight. The latter is rarer, but does still happen on occasion

-it’s okay though, because pie will always make things better

-cookies are almost exclusively for the jar. These are made on random frequencies, usually a lot at a time.

-he likes butterscotch a lot, and you find a way to mix your favorite flavors into either one monstrosity or one beauty of a cookie

-you guys have in fact made your own recipe. It’s awesome. Like, prized possession material.

-and then brownies

-they’re literally just pimped up store bought mix. Preferably Ghirardelli, for maximum bougie-ness

-and then sometimes you guys add some fun time grass

-you’ll do that when you just want to have a soft night. You’ll always way up to him laying on you and holding you like a koala though- may your back be prepared

-overall he just really enjoys spending time with you in any way that he can and baking is a great way to do that

-Dean Winchester is precious

-I rest my case

If you have any ideas for more headcanons, send a request! My box is always open!

Xx

[kerryweaverlesbian]

(I love Sam. Btw. This is playful.)

*(this was near the start of season 10, he persuaded a misogynist guy to sell his soul so he could follow him to Dean. The guy was then killed by Dean so I guess he's in Hell now. RIP I guess (Ripped Into Pieces))