#instead of witch-hunting them

[samuraisharkie]

ok I genuinely think @is-the-owl-video-cute has gone off the deep end. what makes you act like that on the internet for real. I don’t even have a real stock in this bullshit drama but they are just the most reactionary asshole to people? how can y’all look up to them they are genuinely so immature and pissy. they’ve been throwing a fit over users they personally dislike and using absolutely no proof at all to say they doxxed ppl. there’s like zero proof other than they don’t like them LMAO. can y’all log the fuck off please?? before someone actually gets hurt??

[potatoesandsunshine]

overall jaws of hakkon is like, a flawed but very good dlc in a lot of ways. i like the writing more than trespasser and i feel like they pack a lot in to the limited time you spend in the frostback basin. the deep roads dlc is so bad in comparison i'm so sorry deep roads this game disrespects you so badly. "tell them the truth—you don't know what happened here." i sure don't valta because they didn't fucking write a good story!!

[friendofthecrows]

What studying criminalistics, forensics, or crime scene investigation is like in a class geared towards ppl wanting to be forensic scientists or crime scene specialists:

Professor: your week one quiz covers the assigned readings for week 1 :) you have 2 hours and it is NOT open notebook.

The assigned readings for week 1:

Professor: btw by next week you need to simulate and be able to properly document a crime scene complete with evidence handling in accordance with [three different regulating standards, 100-300 pages each] or you fail :)

What studying criminal justice in a class geared towards people wanting to be cops is like:

Professor: please write a paragraph on the good-faith principle, where evidence from illegal searches can be used if it's believed the officer was acting in good faith :) you only need 2 sources and your response should be less than 1000 words. I understand the material can be hard for some people, which is why there are 8 of these across the class, and they're mostly graded on effort and participation. I don't believe in tests or quizzes so you have none.

[interdimensionalhellscapeportal]

AU: after the brothers lost consciousness in their escape pod, injured and lost following their ignoble defeat at the hands of kEnObIiiii, they are found & rescued not by Deathwatch but by a craft full of the most diabolical, imaginative, and thoroughly unhinged beings they have ever encountered: the fans of galactic music sensation <aurebesh equivalent of BTS>.

been a very long time since i drew my fav star wars boys uwu

[criminalamnesia]

the 141 x reader fic that you did was so yummy!!! pls make them suffer the wrath of reader and make 141 realise how much they need them when they leave,

your work is so amazing btw and your way with words is simply ✨chef’s kiss✨ (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

thank you!! here’s part 3 :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

angry didn’t even begin to describe how you felt as you slammed the door to price’s office behind you.

you were tense, muscles taut and poised to fight. your fists clenched at your sides, blunt nails digging into your palms hard enough to hurt. your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding together as you resisted the urge to march back in there and unleash your fury.

no. not like this. not when you weren’t a hundred percent. not when they would still look at you like you were a wounded doe, stumbling around on broken legs.

in the back of your mind, you can hear that psychologist saying ‘this anger will eat you alive if you let it. you need to let it out somehow.’

you inhaled, unclenched your fists, and made up your mind. you pulled the iv from your arm, wincing at the pinch of the needle.

you left the iv pole standing there as you made your way to the gym.

the gym was empty when you arrived, which made sense for this time of day. many would be occupied by drills or in the mess hall. others would be sleeping off long nights. you had the place to yourself, and you were grateful for the absence of watchful eyes and sweetened tongues.

you were tired of those who knew nothing acting like they knew something. of those who apologized or asked if you were okay. word spread like wildfire around base, and the subject of your ‘betrayal’ had been front-page news since the start of the witch hunt.

the gym door clicked shut behind you, and you surveyed the room. you knew your doctor would have a fit once you returned to the infirmary, and that she probably wouldn’t let you out alone again, but you didn’t really care.

you needed to let off some steam, and the best way you knew how was with your fists. either you start swinging at a bag or at a certain someone’s face. the bag won’t be condescending, and that makes your choice easy.

you approach one of the bright red punching bags in the corner. it’s scratched and taped from where someone had busted it open. scars that didn’t go away, that wouldn’t— just like yours.

you huffed. it didn’t do any good to start feeling sorry for yourself. you hadn’t done anything wrong. your team had.

you stretch your arms out in front of you, fingers interlocking to pop your knuckles. you catch sight of your severed finger, still healing. they’d recovered what had been chopped off, but hadn’t been able to save it.

just another permanent reminder, something to make sure you didn’t dare forget. you didn’t think you ever would regardless.

you shook out your hands and rolled your shoulders back. fists raised, you angled yourself towards the bag. feet spread, shoulders squared, thumb tucked under your fingers instead of inside. a stance that was second nature after years of sparring and hand-to-hand drills.

the bag was firm when your fist connected with it. you would have been lying if you said it didn’t hurt. you punched with the other hand— same results. the time you’d spent confined to an infirmary bed had done a number on you. muscles had atrophied, bones had weakened. the leg you’d suffered a bone-deep cut to shook under your weight.

you didn’t care. you kept punching, your breathing picking up as your emotions guided you. sweat dripped into your eyes and rolled down your back. you felt weak, physically and mentally. you hated feeling this way, and so you punched harder.

“slow down,” a voice grumbled from behind you.

you ignored him, continuing to punch the bag. you hadn’t heard the door open, nor heard the sound of him approaching, but you would have been surprised if you did.

simon always had a penchant for sneaking up on people, intentionally or not.

“gonna pass out if y’don’t stop,” he said after a minute. you could feel his eyes on you. you ignored him again.

you didn’t need to turn around to know he was standing there with his arms crossed, eyes full of something unreadable.

“stop,” he says firmly, and you sense his movement as he surges forward. his hand lands heavily on your shoulder, pulling you back from the punching bag. you heave in a breath before spinning around and punching him in the nose.

simon stumbles back a step, eyes widened slightly. for someone who prided himself on being so observant, he clearly didn’t see that coming. it made you feel the tiniest bit smug that you’d caught him off guard for once.

you dropped your hands to your knees then, squeezing your eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed over you. damn the bastard, he had been right. you shouldn’t have even been in here in the first place, let alone exerted yourself as much as you had.

your hands were shaking as you tried to pull yourself together. you opened your eyes to see drops of blood on the gym floor, by your feet. you had split your knuckles open.

there were also drops of blood at simon’s feet. you looked up then, slowly straightening your posture. he’d removed his mask, his face bare as he stared at you. blood dripped from his nose.

“gonna have to hit harder than that if y’want to break it,” he says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“did you follow me in here?”

“no.” he says, and you’re giving a mirthless laugh.

“oh, please. im sure price sent you, yeah? you’ve always been his little lap dog. he says ‘jump’ and you say ‘how high,’ isn’t that right, lieutenant?”

your tone is tense, angry. you throw his title in his face, seeing as he’d been so quick to remind you of yours back in price’s office.

simon watches you, and you want to tackle him. he had always been quiet, always stoic. you’d been with him for years, but you still didn’t think you’d broken down all of his walls.

he was so good at masking his thoughts, his feelings. you weren’t. soap had always called you an open book. whenever you were mad or upset, everyone knew it.

no one knew anything about simon unless he wanted them to. it drove you mad then, and it was sure as hell driving you mad now.

“you need to get back to the infirmary,” he tells you. he wipes the back of his hand under his nose, smearing red across his skin. for a moment, you want to chastise him, reach up and wipe the remnants from his face.

you quickly shake that thought from your head. what is it they say— old habits die hard?

these habits would die if you had to strangle each one with your bare hands. anything you harbored for the four men on your team, for the one you’d called yours, was dead and gone.

“fuck off,” you tell him.

“why are you so damn stubborn?” he says then, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him start to crack since everything had happened. emotions are beginning to leak through his stony exterior, whether he means them to or not.

“you don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. none of you do,” you say, and you take a step forward then, eyes blazing as you stare up at him. “not after what you did.”

he doesn’t speak for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. his eyes never leave yours.

“it shouldn’t have happened like that.” he tells you. you scoff.

“like that? you mean the four of you torturing me? tying me up and mutilating me like I was just another fucking target?” your voice was rising as you took another step forward, shoving a finger into his chest.

“if I’d treated you like another target,” he said, tone even. “you would’ve been dead.”

“so you showed me mercy, is that it?” you bared your teeth, a hollow laugh escaping your throat. “oh, thank you simon. I really felt that fucking mercy when you cut off my finger, and when you cut through layers of skin to get to bone.”

you inhaled before continuing. “I should be grateful then, right? is that what you want from me? for me to recognize your fucking ‘mercy’ and take you back? take you all back?”

he just stands there. you can see his jaw clench, but he makes no move to speak. you find it funny that he hasn’t even tried to apologize. john, your ever prideful captain, had swallowed his failure and pleaded for your forgiveness.

johnny and kyle would surely have done the same if they’d had the chance to speak to you, even if they only had a minute.

but simon? simon doesn’t. he doesn’t outwardly admit his wrongs. he doesn’t apologize. doesn’t seem sorry, even. you don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but you find yourself not really caring to know.

the fact that he can’t bring himself to admit, in blunt words, that he had astronomically fucked up and that he felt even the slightest bit of remorse, told you everything you needed to know.

cold, stoic ghost. you hadn’t been afraid of him when you’d first joined the squad, and you weren’t afraid of him now.

but back then, you’d wanted to break down those stone walls of his. you’d wanted to be someone he felt safe around, someone who knew him inside and out.

now, you’re packing your time with him into a box in your mind and dumping it into the trash. simon riley means nothing to you now.

“take your mercy and shove it up your ass,” you tell him. you step back and drop your hand, your eyes still locked on his.

“and by the way,” you say as you start towards the door. he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t move an inch. it’s as if he’s rooted to the spot.

“you should’ve just killed me.”

author’s note:

not really sure how I feel about this one tbh. I have plans for a part four, but I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be making this series.

and as for simon— I want to write an extra part about his thoughts/feelings about everything. let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

anyways, let me know your thoughts please :) (I honestly may end up deleting this and rewriting it when I’m not tired lol)

taglist: @preeyansha @igotmajordaddyissues @nanatheoaktree @aesthetic0cherryblossom @oceanicexolorer @soph121212 @liv2post @cupid-eclipse @angels-despair18 @k4marina

[ozzgin]

Little Red Riding Hood except they’re consenting adults and the big bad (were)wolf wants to bang red instead of eating her alive. Sorry if you already did something like that, I’m just curious if you think my concept is interesting.

This has reminded me of the time I played Wytchwood and foamed at the mouth when I stumbled upon the bad Wolf who courts maidens at the tavern, only to eat them back at his house. I didn't use Tumblr at the time, so I suffered in silence. Perhaps now is finally my time to pass on this brainrot. Content: female (adult) reader, witch reader, violence!, The Wolf from Wytchwood

The Wolf is a notorious regular at the Village Tavern. He's a brash criminal with an appetite for maidens, yet no one dares to oppose his vicious attacks. The village hunter carries his silver bullets with trembling hands: he knows better than to anger the beast. He'd be torn to shreds before he could even pull the trigger.

The Wolf is a drooling mess when he sees you enter the tavern. A new face, how unexpected. Might you be a traveler? Not for long. He grins to himself, tongue rolling out as if to have a taste of your scent. His ears perk up, and he approaches you with a slight sway of the hips, almost like a predatory stance.

The Wolf is taken aback by your brazen indifference. People normally squirm and shiver under his gaze. Will you keep your smile when he's pulling your innards apart, one by one, savoring their taste? You observe him with calculated eyes. This must be the famed killer of the village. You extend your hand, and let him guide you to his home in the deep, dark woods.

The Wolf stumbles in his steps. He rubs his eyes, snout furrowed in disbelief. Were you not in his grip just a second ago? "You're a witch", he finally concludes with a snarl. You chuckle. You may not match his brute strength, but you can easily escape his primitive hunt using your tricks and spells. It'll be a pointless chase, truly. His murderous rampage ends here.

The Wolf approaches you again with newfound resolve. "You cannot eat me", you state factually. Oh, but he no longer holds such a desire. To think this little red riding hood would end up being such a tease! No, no, he has other plans now. His eyes glimmer with a peculiar kind of appetite, a different kind of lust. You raise your eyebrows, intrigued. There certainly is something endearing about a powerful monster begging to have you. The defiant stare has now softened into a pleading, ardent look, his claws tugging at your robe.

It seems that there are more ways in which a maiden can be eaten.

[meatheadmutt]

"its a sad day when we choose to indict a president"

[computerpeople]

my stomach freaking hurts

[dcxdpdabbles]

Could we get a continuation of a cluster of cores? Teen parent Danny is gonna be run ragged with so many little ones and it will only be a matter of time before Dani and Lian shows them the Puppy Eyes, good thing there gonna have plenty of aunts and uncles to also bully.

Roy's newfound hero is still locked in a coma. It's been nearly three months now, and they had managed to keep him alive with tubes feeding him food and water, but it worried everyone they could not figure out the reason for his slumber.

Dani, the young alien girl, assured everyone it was fine, as she could naturally sense her father's core healing. Despite their humanoid appearance, a quick scan showed that the Fentons (as Dani had identified them) were indeed aliens.

Then there were their documents. They were all legal... in Daxam, where these travelers were from. He had contacted the Justice League, and the Green Lanterns had easily authenticated their identities.

Daxam was a plant with a red sun, one that had life forms similar to those of Kryptonians. However, the natives of the plant, before Krypton colonized it, were different in how their young were born and the origin of their powers.

Roy has learned through the Oa headquarters records that Indigenous Daxamites were formed within cores. These egg-like parts held the entity of their souls but at too different times to fully hatch, so a sibling of a cluster could hatch five years before the rest. When they formed, their powers came from an "Obsession" or a part of their environment instead of just the sun.

Their culture and species revolved heavily around the child clusters, as Indigenous Daxamite could only lay them once in their lifetime. This was disastrous when their kind was slowly hunted into extinction, as Daxam was conquered nearly a hundred thousand years ago and became a colony by Krypton.

The Kryptonians had always targeted the clusters before they could hatch, drastically declining the numbers of Daxamites.

The Indigenous Daxamites had nearly been wiped out in a horrific genocide during the colonization days, and the remaining ones had been mixed with Kryptonians to the point their species had evolved.

The cluster of core births was nothing more than history to the planet, even when outliving Krypton. That did not mean that the generational racism died with the Kryptonians.

Daxamites had become hostile to the original Daxam dwellers (Roy found records of Kryptonians demonizing the species, often referring to their god Rao commanding them to cleanse the planet for daring to gain power from pagan gods. He is pretty sure that was just an excuse for the holy war, as Clark had never mentioned anything in.), and a sort of witch hunt for any pure Indigenous Daxamite sprung to life a thousand years ago.

The Green Lanterns corps had to step in when word reached them, but by that point, many innocent Daxamites had been executed on accusations alone of being Indigenous Daxamites. To the heavy heart of the reporting Green Lantersn, the Indigenous Daxamites have been wiped from existence because of the witch trials a good nine hundred years ago.

Oh, so they thought.

Danny Fenton and his children may as well be the very last of their kind. Roy figured that Danny and his people had hidden themselves from their government.

He likely had spent his life attempting to keep his kind a secret, as his planet had been under the thumb of an oppressive dictatorship since Krypton had perished. Daxam was notorious for its complicated border control, which made leaving the planet near impossible.

He is still determining what led to Danny's discovery, but based on what they managed to salvage from the bomb site of his once house, Danny fled his planet after his secret was outed.

There was an active warrant for his capture on Daxam and an open order to neutralize his "demonic unholy offspring." Roy felt sick when he heard from a grim-faced John Stewart, the Green Lanter working as their intermediary between the two planets, that the populace on Daxam had been campaigning for Danny's death to be slow and public, as the hatred for his kind was that deep.

Dani refused to explain how her father smuggled them all out. She mentioned a few times that they had help from a mysterious "Clockwork" but had to keep a tight lid on anything else.

All they knew for sure was that Danny was severely damaged from the escape, and his constant feedings to his young (even in his sleep, his body naturally sent over ectoplasm to the cluster that never left this side) had put him in grave danger when he saved Lian. Roy still held his daughter only because this man risked everything for a child of a planet he had no ties to.

He was willing to take on all Daxam if they dared to come for Danny for that alone.

Thankfully, Justice Leauge felt the same way, and with the support of the Green Lanterns Corp, they were debating with the galactic high court to make Danny a citizen of Earth using asylum. Things were looking good for their cause, given that Danny was with a child (children??) and that his small family was an endangered species.

The Justice League was also a recognized police force by the galactic association, no matter how new, so their word carried a lot in the court.

Roy was letting the big names handle everything political. Bruce, especially, was working overtime since the big bad bat had a giant soft spot for children. He focused more on his living situation and Danny himself.

Not only because they were best friends but because Gotham seemed to be one of the only cities with "ectoplasm" (High-density levels of death?? It was naturally, according to Daxam) that the Fentons needed. Danny was resting in the Drake Hospital of Gotham, while Dani had been housed with Jason.

Jason had been more than willing to open his home to Roy and Lian until they could return to their city. They were among the many houses destroyed, so it would be a while before their home was fixed. Oliver extended the same offer, wanting his son and granddaughter back home with him.

He would have taken Oliver's offer had Jason not asked first. Things were better between the arrows now that Roy had cleaned his addiction, but he felt more at ease with Jason.

She was still young enough to need slight feedings from her father but was also able to process food from the environment. Roy tried his best to make Dani feel at home, but he could tell by her somber eyes and weak smile that she was struggling with her displacement.

Jason was better at helping her. He made time to read her a bedtime story, have her help cook, and even take her on rides around Gotham on his bike, but somehow, he did it in a way that she didn't have to speak.

Dani seemed relaxed with him.

Roy has always known Jason was better with kids, but seeing it in person makes his heart melt.

"Is my dad awake yet?" Dani asks Lian one morning. The two girls were playing with dolls, though Dani seemed confused by them the first time. She apparently never had a doll before, and Roy is curious if it was due to her being on the constant run or if dolls were not toys on her home planet.

"I don't think so. But don't worry, my Daddy is a hero. He'll save him!"

Roy's heart leaps in joy at her words, but it breaks only half a second when Dani replies in a small voice. "My Dad is a hero too. But he can still die."

Gosh, is that something a child should say?

Roy puts down the pan he used to make pancakes, wiping his hands on his apron to tell the girls breakfast is ready when Jason comes stumbling out of his room. He had a late night as Red Hood, having taken out an uprising in one of his territories.

Usually, this means Jason sleeps until two or three in the afternoon so to see him up and about at nine was a shock. He has his phone pressed to his ear, with a frantic look in his eye causing Roy to tense.

"Thanks, Tim. I'll get Roy and the girls ready. We'll be there as soon as I can," Jason said, twisting to grab hold of Roy's shoulder. We need to get to Drake Hospital."

Hope rose in his chest as Roy pressed a hand over Jason's "Is he awake?"

Jason's mouth tightens. "No. One of the cores hatched."

Oh no.

[jensengirl83]

Unexpected Arrival

Dean x reader

Word Count-3490

Warnings- SMUT, fluff, language, sub!Dean

Summary- Dean thinks Y/N will be gone for a few more days on a hunt. What will she find when she comes back early to surprise him?

A/N- This fills the square "What happened to your hair?" for @jacklesversebingo. Also, a big thank you to my amazing beta @pink-sparkly-witch. Thank you for the encouragement and great feedback on my fics.

This has been on my Patreon for a few weeks. If you'd like to join and get access to my ficus weeks before they come to Tumblr, you can join my Patreon here. I have multiple tiers with different perks starting at $3 a month!

Y/N was exhausted. She’d been on a hunt for over a week that should’ve taken three days. All she wanted now was to get back to the bunker, back to Dean. It had been one of the few times they had hunted separately, and she’d missed him terribly. He and Sam had been out on their own hunt because she had wanted to take a slight break, but that changed when another hunter called, needing help to eliminate a werewolf pack. So, that’s why she was now tired, frustrated, and wanting nothing more than a hot shower and cuddling with her boyfriend. 

The closer Y/N got to the bunker, the more her tension seemed to ebb away. As the miles raced away under her tires, she couldn’t help but smile a little. Just the thought of getting closer to Dean with every minute that passed helped with her frustration of being gone so long. He thought she would be gone a few more days, but luckily, she and her partner had found the pack and decimated it quicker than anticipated. She’d thought about calling and letting him know she was returning but decided to surprise him instead. 

Finally, the bunker was in her sights. She sighed in relief as she made her way to the garage, parked her car, and got out, stretching her sore and aching muscles. She threw her duffle over her shoulder and began the trek to the war room, hoping that Dean would be there, wanting to see the surprise on his face when she walked in. But, as she took her first steps into the room, he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Sam stood there, his own duffle slung over his shoulder. 

“Hey, Sam,” she greeted, “Are you heading out?” 

“Hey, Y/N,” he returned her greeting, “Yeah, Jody needs help with a vamp’s nest.” 

“Don’t you ever take a break? How long have you guys been back, anyway?” 

“We got back a couple of days ago. I’ve had time to rest,” he chuckled at her worry. She was always making sure they were taken care of. 

“Okay, just please be careful, and let us know how it’s going. Do you know where Dean is?”  

“He said something about going to watch a movie and relax. He’s been looking forward to you coming home. You know how Dean is; he won’t outwardly say it, but he really missed you,” Sam smiled, patting her on the shoulder as he walked past, heading for the garage. 

“I missed him. That’s why I didn’t call. I wanted to surprise him,” she exclaimed gleefully. The thought of his excitement at seeing her made her stomach swim with butterflies. 

“He’ll definitely be surprised. I’ll see you when I get back. It shouldn’t be more than a few days.” 

“Be safe,” she told him, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he left, leaving her alone in the war room. 

Once Sam was gone, she threw her things on the war room table, stretching her muscles again before she started her journey down the hall to her and Dean’s shared room. The excitement of knowing they had the bunker to themselves for a few days put a pep in her step. She was going to try to convince Dean to take this time to spend it together. No hunts, no outside distractions. Just the two of them lounging around, watching movies, spending long overdue quality time together. It wasn’t often that they were the only ones home. Sam was rarely not there with them or in the front seat of the Impala on their hunts. So, she wanted to take full advantage of the time they could have together the next few days. 

As she got closer to their room, the thoughts of everything they could do while alone made her want to giggle like a little girl. She loved that green-eyed hunter down the hall more than she could ever describe. It had taken a while, but she finally managed to get him to fully let her in and open up to her in ways that he hadn’t with anyone else, which made her love for him grow exponentially. But all thoughts ceased as she got to their doorway. The sound of a grunt coming from the cracked door made her stop in her tracks. Was he okay? Was he in pain? She rushed the last few steps to the room, peeking in, but what she saw froze her in her spot. Dean was lying in their bed, hand under the sheets, head thrown back in ecstasy. 

“Yes, Y/N, God, it feels so good,” he groaned, his hand visibly stroking his hard length. 

She couldn’t help but stare, the sight making her weak in the knees and that familiar heat growing between her legs. The sound of a woman moaning brought her back to the present. For a split second, her heart dropped, but then she realized it was coming from the porn he was watching. Her eyes broke from Dean to the screen, and what she witnessed gave her an idea. 

“So, how much does it turn you on to watch her be in control?” she questioned seductively, announcing her presence and making Dean jump in surprise. 

“Y/N! I-I, uh, how long have you been back?” he stuttered, quickly moving his hand away, flustered that he had been caught. 

“Long enough to see that you’re having a pretty good time there, handsome,” she quipped, turning her eyes back to the screen where the woman was clearly dominating her partner, “But you didn’t answer my question. How turned on are you to see a woman being dominant?” 

“I, well, uh,” he continued to stumble through his words as he reached for the remote control to turn off the movie.

“Uh uh. Leave it on,” she demanded authoritatively, slowly stripping off her flannel as she moved closer to the bed. She watched as he quivered at her tone. “Now, answer me.” 

“It turns me on,” he mumbled quickly, barely audible. 

“Oh, come on,” she chastised, now down to her underwear as she stood beside the bed, “You can do better than that.” 

“Fine, it really turns me on,” he said sheepishly, eyes cast down, not wanting to see her expression at his admission. 

She smirked, her tiredness ebbing away and turning into a burning desire for the man sitting before her. If that turned him on, she would give him something he’d never forget. But she had to make sure it was something he wanted. They’d always been good about trying new things, but only if both were up for it. So, placing her fingers under his chin, tilting his face to look at her, she smiled down at him. 

“You want me to do it? Want me to dominate you?” 

“Are you serious?” he asked, his cock twitching at the thought that one of his secret fantasies may be coming to life. 

She grabbed his face between her fingers a little roughly, pulling his face closer to hers as she leaned down to look into his eyes, “Do I look like I’m joking?” 

Before she knew what was happening, he had her pulled down into his lap, his mouth covering hers in a bruising kiss, his tongue swiping against her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She let him run the show for a minute, but when she felt him start grinding his hips up against hers, she pulled away, making him whine. 

“Now, here’s how it’s going to go. You’re going to listen to what I tell you, and if you disobey, I stop, understand?” she stated, watching his pupils dilate, almost completely taking over the emerald green of his eyes. 

“Yes, I understand.” 

“Yes, what?” she asked, grabbing his hair, tugging harshly, his body shaking with want. 

“Yes, ma’am!” he exclaimed excitedly. She was going to ruin him, and he was all for it. 

“Good. Now, you can touch me only when I say you can, and you cannot touch yourself at all. Are you sure you want this?” she asked one more time, ensuring he really wanted this. 

“Yes, I want it. Y/N, I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” he smiled up at her. She always worried about him and his well-being. That’s one of the many reasons he loved her. 

“Alright. Then get ready to have your mind blown, big boy,” she winked, slowly beginning to grind down against him, his hands instinctively grabbing her hips. 

“What did I just say about touching,” she scolded, moving off his lap and standing beside the bed.

“I’m sorry! It’s just instinct! I won’t do it again!” he almost begged. He wanted, no needed, to feel her against him again. 

“Dean…I have to punish you for that. Maybe you’ll learn to listen.” 

“No, please, baby. I need to feel you. God, I’ve missed feeling you,” he whined, reaching out to touch her but remembering and pulling his hand back, dropping it in his lap. 

“Shh, babe. You’ll feel me, just not right now. Now, scoot up,” she motioned for him to move so she could sit behind him on the bed as she removed the rest of her clothes. He obliged, but not without a pout. 

“Ahh, are you pouting, Dean? Good boys don’t pout. Don’t you want to be a good boy and get the rewards they get?” she whispered in his ear as she ran her hands down his arms, moving over to his abdomen, making his muscles tense and then release. 

“Yes, God. I’ll be good,” he grunted as she scraped her nails up and down his stomach. 

“That’s what I want to hear. Now, lean back,” she instructed him to lean his body back against hers, his head on her shoulder as her hands continued to roam. 

“Baby…” he began to utter his pleas, but she moved her finger up to his mouth to quiet him. 

“You hear that? Do you hear the sounds she’s making? Does that turn you on, Dean? Will you let me use you to make myself feel that good, huh? Let me ride you until I come so hard, squeeze around you so tight,” she whispered in his ear, nudging his head to look at the movie, his breath hitching in his throat as her hands moved all around where he wanted her to touch him. It was tortuous, but he couldn’t deny that he was turned on more than he had been in a long time. The thought of her using him to get her pleasure made him hard as a rock. He couldn’t contain the loud moan that escaped him. 

“That’s it. Let me hear you, babe. Such a good boy for me,” she cooed, feeling his body shiver with need. It made her want him even more, her body reacting. She ground herself against his backside, needing friction. “You feel how wet I am, Dean? Damn, I can’t wait to feel you inside me, filling me up so good, filling me up the way only your big cock can.”

“Y/N, baby, please! I can’t take anymore. I need you so bad. Please, please…” he began to beg, the need to feel her wrapped around him, controlling all his senses. 

“Already begging? Does my good boy need me, need to come for me?” 

“Yes! I need you so bad. I’ve missed you and how you feel. Please, baby,” he pleaded, fists clenching the sheets beside him, her hands still teasing him, “I’m not going to last if you keep teasing me!”

She smirked at his desperation. What she wasn’t going to admit was that seeing him that turned on and begging for her was slowly chipping away at her restraint. Being away from him and not feeling him for over a week made her body thrum with the need for him, too. She slid from behind him and motioned for him to scoot back against the headboard. Once he was positioned where she wanted him, she climbed back into his lap. 

“I’m going to give you what you want, Dean, but remember, hands to yourself until I say otherwise. Got it?” she made sure the rules were clear as she slowly ground herself against him, his tip catching her swollen clit, bringing low moans out of her. 

“No touching, got it. Just please, sweetheart, stop teasing me and let me feel you,” he groaned as the feeling of her pussy, warm and slick, grinding against him slowly drove him insane. 

“That’s not how this works. You wanted me to dominate you, right? That means you get what I give you when I want to give it. Understand?” she said, pulling his hair, causing his head to tilt back to look up at her. 

“Yes, yes, I understand.”

“Yes, what, Dean?” she smirked as she rolled her hips again and watched his eyes roll back. 

“Yes, ma’am! God, Y/N, you’re killing me…” 

“Oh, but what a pleasurable death it will be,” she moaned in his ear as she lifted herself, grabbing his cock and lining it up with her entrance, dropping down to take all of him in one motion. 

Dean couldn’t stop the scream that tore from his throat as he felt her heat surround him suddenly. He had to twist the sheets tighter in his grip to prevent his hands from grabbing her hips, making her bounce on him fast and hard, but he had asked her to dominate him, so he had to follow the rules, even though he thought it might be the death of him. 

Dean shut his eyes and gritted his teeth. It was taking all his willpower not to finish before her. He had never been dominated like this before, and he loved it. The feeling of her tight pussy taking him to the hilt, and the sexy moans leaving her as she chased her end, were driving him mad. He wanted to grab her hips and help her move against him, but he knew he couldn’t. 

Y/N watched Dean’s eyes flutter shut, his knuckles turning white from his grip on the sheets, his teeth indenting his bottom lip as he sucked into his mouth, trying to contain the many noises that wanted to bubble up and out of him, but she wasn’t having that. She pulled his lip from his teeth with her thumb, his eyes shooting open from the contact as she began to grind slowly in his lap. 

“No, Dean. No keeping quiet. Let me hear all those beautifully sinful noises I plan to draw out of you,” she told him as she began to move faster, the sexiest whimper she’d ever heard leaving past his lips, “Yes, that’s it, that’s my good boy. I’ll have you screaming my name before I’m done.” 

“God, Y/N…y-you feel so damn good. R-riding me so fucking good. Please, let me touch you. I need to touch you,” he begged, the restraint of not touching starting to become too much. 

“Does my good boy want to touch me?” she felt his whole body shudder at the praise, making her smile. Had she known that praising him would get that kind of reaction, she would’ve done it much sooner, “Okay, Dean. Since you’ve been good, you can touch me.” 

As soon as the words left her mouth, his hands were on her hips, his grip almost bruising, his hips meeting hers as he pulled her up and down on him. She ran her hands into his hair, grasping it in handfuls as she continued to ride him hard, making him moan loudly. The sounds he was making made her clench around him, which, in turn, made him moan loudly again. It was a cycle that was quickly driving them both towards their ends. 

“Sweetheart, you gotta hurry. I can’t hold it much longer,” he growled through clenched teeth, the vein in his neck protruding out in his effort to hold back. 

“Be a good boy and make me come, then,” she demanded, her legs starting to shake with the exertion. 

Dean reached down between them, rubbing her clit in harsh circles as he thrust up into her as hard as he could. He knew she was getting close as he felt her begin to flutter and clench around him even more. A few more circles on her nub, and she was gone, falling over the edge, screaming his name as one of the most intense orgasms she ever had rushed through her. He grabbed her hips, pistoning up at a faster pace for a few seconds before her orgasm triggered his. He stilled deep within her, shouting her name as he shook all over, filling her up.

She collapsed against his chest, his hands instinctively running up and down her back slowly. They sat there silently, trying to catch their breaths for a few minutes before Y/N giggled. The motion of her body moving made him hiss. His softening length was sensitive from one of the strongest orgasms he’d ever had. Y/N sat up abruptly, making him groan. 

“Oh, God. Did I hurt you?” she asked, her eyes wide with worry. 

“No, sweetheart, I’m fine,” he chuckled, “I’m just a little sensitive, and when you started to laugh, it made you move on him. And I do believe he’s down for the count for a while.” 

“Are you saying that little Dean isn’t up for playing anymore?” she laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“One, don’t call him that, and two, yes, he’s done for the night. Sweetheart, you damn near killed me,” he groaned as she started to wiggle in his lap, teasing him. He helped her move from his lap to sit beside him on the bed. 

“So, I take it that means you enjoyed it?” 

“Enjoyed it? Y/N, baby, that was indescribable. I’m just sorry I didn’t ask for that sooner.” 

“Well, I’m happy I could be of service,” she stood from the bed and curtsied, causing Dean to burst out in full-body laughter. 

“You’re something else, sweetheart,” he whispered, pulling her closer and kissing her hard, “Now, how about we talk about the roles being reversed sometime?”

“You want to dominate me?” she asked, putting her finger on her chin like she was contemplating, “I do believe that’d be fun.” 

“Then we’ll have to make plans for that, but first, I’m fucking starving. Let’s go to the kitchen, make us a snack, and then we come back here and watch a movie.” 

“Another movie?” she questioned with a smirk, gesturing to the TV where the porn was still playing. 

“Damn it, woman. A real movie, not the sexy kind,” he huffed, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV before slapping her on the ass, “Now, about that snack?” 

She laughed as they threw on their pajamas and made their way down the hall toward the kitchen. As they got closer, a sound made them freeze. Dean motioned for her to get behind him as they tiptoed around the corner, their bodies relaxing when they saw it was just Sam. 

“Hey guys, Jody called as I was about thirty minutes from here and told me they had taken care of the nest, so I didn’t have to go after all." He was explaining why he was there when he stopped and stared, “What happened to your hair? You look like Sonic the Hedgehog.” 

Y/N couldn’t contain the fits of laughter. She was doubled over, holding her sides as Dean looked on with his best bitchface. Her hands pulling on his hair had made it stick up in all different directions. Sam spoke again as she finally started calming down, sending her into another fit of giggles. 

“You know what, I don’t want to know. From the looks of you both, I know why, and now I wish I could bleach the image from my mind.” 

“Well, Sammy,” Dean smirked, pulling Y/N to his side, “What can I tell you? I aim to please.” 

“Excuse me. Who was doing the pleasing this time?” Y/N grinned, poking Dean in the chest. 

“Oh, God. I’m going to my room. I don’t want to hear this!” Sam groaned, leaving the kitchen. 

“Be glad you weren’t here thirty minutes ago, or you’d have heard plenty!” Y/N shouted at his retreating form as she and Dean started cackling. 

Sam groaned again as he walked away. A thought crossed his mind as he heard them continue to laugh as he made it further down the hallway.

“If I didn’t love them, I’d go back in there and stab them to death,” he mumbled to himself as he walked into his room and slammed the door, hoping he wouldn’t hear anything else from them the rest of the night. 

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[uyallstars]

Can I add how shameless people are? In the animanga fandom there are blogs with ask box closed that steal gifs and repost them some of them with watermarks some without, they tag it with generic tags so people don´t know they´re doing till you see them on their dash (e.g. I gif sailor moon they post it with #anime #magical girl #90s but not the name of the anime). If I see a gif without the name of the anime I assume they stole it. 

I sent a message to one of them, via direct message of course, and they deactivated without saying a word but all these reposters have all new blogs (less than a year) who knows if they´re back doing the same thing. Some get angry if you message them or they have written out right in their description that they reposts gifs and what can you do? only the creator can do something.

"i'm struggling to find gifs" "why can't i find gifs of this scene or this show" "why are less people taking requests"

you repost to twitter, to pinterest, to instagram, to tiktok and lord knows what else. on twitter, a single gif taken from a gifset that didn't even receive 1k notes (not 1k likes or even 1k rbs, if that even exists these days) can get 3m views and 30k+ likes. without credit, of course - if you're like, you get a mispelled: made by x on tumblr, no link of course.

hell, you repost on this very site and you refuse to listen. your set, stolen from someone else and mixed in with quotes, gets 1k notes meanwhile the original sits at less than 500. you do not credit the person who made it.

we ask you to reblog things instead of liking them and you go on rants about how it's unnecessary and how we should do it for fun. we explain a hundred times that tumblr doesn't work the way other social media platforms work, but you refuse. you wonder why there are less gifmakers.

gifs don't take 10 seconds like on ezgif or imgflip or whatever the hell you're using. it takes hours sometimes to even download footage, but you don't care. it's a moving image that we "stole" (?) from the original work but the labour? you don't care. depending on our process, it can take from half an hour (the downloading and the editing part) to hours upon hours. but who cares.

you credit text posts, fanvids, and you go after those who steal written work (as you should). we cannot even get other gifmakers to care when our stuff is stolen. staff took away our only tool to fight reposters on this site, and we never had any to fight reposting to other sites.

we know what the staff is aiming at with the changes they make and the changes they refuse to make - we explain that why disabling likes would help, they say they will not do it. they cannot slap an @ onto gifs when saved to prevent stealing but boy, look at the shiny new editor that adds an additional least 5 minutes to upload your gifs! again, intention is very clear.

we know you don't steal gifs under a certain quality and we know you ask us for requests for scenes/parallels that have been done because you do not like the quality of those. we see you stealing quality sets.

there is no point to this i just needed to vent. staff is disregarding the very foundation of this site, gifmakers are given less and less respect and you wonder why scenes aren't giffed.

i don't know. add your perspective if you want

[youraverageaemondsimp]

A chance for salvation. // WitchHunter!Aemond Targaryen x Witch!Reader

Halloween Special 🎃

DD:DNE ; DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.

Summary: being a witch, there was someone who you've avoided after the rise of witch hunts, Aemond Targaryen who was the leader of the hunt, you thought you had avoided him successfully until— well, he catches you.

WARNINGS: NONCON/DUBCON, dark fic, mdni, smut, dark romance, enemies to lovers(?), highly religious themes (faith of the seven), slight misogyny, hexing kinda, description of witch hunts and trials, tiddy sucking, unprotected p in v sex, dacryphilia(?), body betrayal, mind betrayal, breeding kink, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, reader is helpless, aemond is narcissistic as fuck, asshole aemond, hatred against witches. + not proofread.

WC: 3.3k

A/N: this fic contains dark themes and content, if you find it uncomfortable please just scroll away instead of dwelling on this, please do not take the warnings lightly if you cannot stomach it, do not read it, do not interact. With that said, it's been a while since I properly sat down to write and finish a fic so it's a little rusty, don't mind it <3 // divider credits @cafekitsune

The smell of burning flesh penetrated your nose as you scrunched up your face in disgust watching the woman before you burn at stake, her agonising screams echoing throughout the town centre.

“THE WITCH SHALL BURN, THE WITCH SHALL BURN” They all chanted while you stood on the sidelines watching the entire scene take place.

You stared at the man that stood by the burning woman, his posture tall and calm, he didn't react nor did he attempt to put out the fire. Why would he? He was the one that set her ablaze in the first place.

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you watched him, he had gotten another witch, he was very good at hunting them down. A skilled witch hunter one might say.

You knew who he was, why wouldn't you? The witches had to be on the lookout from him, not wishing to cross paths. He might be blind in one eye but he has a very sharp eye, catching witches with just one look.

He was none other than the King's second son, Aemond Targaryen.

For some odd reason, he was out on a mission to hunt down all the witches as they had been spreading very fast, causing havoc and chaos, but he failed to understand one thing.

There were both good witches and bad ones.

It didn't matter to him who were who, you just had to be under the suspicion that you were a witch, you'd be put on trial immediately and once proven guilty, you'd be burnt at the stake.

The once human form began to fall apart on the stake like a melted wax figure, Aemond stood there with a stoic expression before he came down.

“Poor woman,” You heard a woman standing beside you say and you look at her, she was the daughter of a local baker “But she deserved it, she was a witch after all.” She snickered cruelly and you felt nothing but intense disgust towards the woman.

Maybe you'll hex her later onwards, you hated scums like this, the ones who thought they were doing better for the human race, while doing quite the opposite.

You left the scene immediately, travelling back to your cabin that was located deep in the woods before shutting the door tightly and going to the shrine you've set up in your house, praying to the forsaken god to give you power and to protect you from these creatures.

You placed the fabric of the dress torn from the woman who encouraged and celebrated the death of a witch onto a doll before closing your eyes and placing a curse upon her. You pick up a candle.

“Ye will not be able to consume food without consequences. Ye will suffer sickness for a month until you are cured.” You whisper into the ears of the doll circling the doll in the wax that was dripping from the candle before blowing the candle out.

It was the next day, your daily routine consisted of casting spells and creating healing potions for your sickly younger brother that lived in the village, you woke up and grabbed the potion in the vial, putting it in your bag before venturing out into the woods and out to where the civilians lived.

You decided to visit the bakery, to see how the woman is doing, it was surprising to find it closed as you probably knew the reason. The family must be worried sick for their daughter. You shrugged it off before going to the house your brother lived in, you knocked on the door to be greeted by your mother who gave you a hug before she invited you in.

You saw your younger brother, still laying in bed but looking more alive than before. “It's been weeks since you visited us ya know? But your brother has been recovering slowly.” Your mother speaks out and you nod, “The work at the castle is tough, tending to all the sick ones is tiring that I merely have time to visit, they don't give me any time for myself.” You lie. The reason why you hadn't been visiting them was because you were trying to hide from Aemond Targaryen's eye. To avoid it so you don't have the same fate as the other witches.

Your family doesn't know you practise witchcraft either, they believe that you study medicine and make healing nectars which work really well. You give the vial to your mother before sitting down alongside with her, she immediately dilutes it with water before feeding your brother.

“Have you heard? About the witch hunts lately?” You stiffen at the mention of the hunt, “I have heard, Aemond Targaryen, The prince is going around eradicating all the accused.” You reply and your mother shakes her head, “He's humiliating them by burning them alive at the centre of the town each week, I'm surprised at how many women he's catching.” She continues to talk about the hunt which makes you anxious, but just nod along.

You spend some time at your mother's before saying your goodbyes and leaving home, you've decided to stop by a small shop on the way to grab something to eat, you smile at the woman after you've purchased bread and some jam. You carefully hold them in your arms before you continue on your way towards your house.

It seemed as though fate had other plans for you when you reach your house and see a horse waiting outside with a man with platinum blonde hair standing outside. Your eyes widen at realisation.

Aemond Targaryen.

Before you could hide, he looked in your direction, his face stoic and blank. “Do you live here?” He asks, his voice monotone but underlace with malice. You gulp before nodding and making your way near him. “Y-yes my prince, why?” you reply, he just hums looking at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“There seems to be activity of a witch here, may I look inside?” He questions raising an eyebrow, you gulp knowing that if you refuse he'd force himself in anyway, but you can't comply either for there is a shrine of the forsaken inside.

“I-i'm afraid it's a little dirty, I can't allow a prince like you to step inside such a dirty place, shall I clean it up?” You ask, you know how stupid you sound but you'd be willing to try before you are sent to your own death.

He scoffs, “So you can clean your evidence of witchcraft? Do not anger me further woman, open the door now before I have to commit to violence.” He grits his teeth and you nod immediately going over to the door and opening it. He steps inside.

You close your eyes, accepting the end of your life, knowing now he'd just apprehend you and take you to the town centre to burn you. He smirks as the evidence of your activity is revealed, your house is donned in herbs and potions with a big shrine of the forsaken god in between.

“Will you burn me now?” You ask him, looking down at your feet not having the courage to look up at him but he remains silent. Your life is literally at stake right now.

“You prefer to be burned alive or stabbed to death?” He asks, drawing his sword out and you visibly flinch, “Or rather, beg for mercy?” He finishes his question staring down at your form and you close your eyes.

“You won't spare me even if I did, will you?” You didn't know where your boldness came from, asking him such a question.

You yelp when you feel him grab your hair and tilt your head to make you look at him, you look directly into his eye with a slight expression of defiance and he just smiles cruelly. “You're right, I won't.” He chuckles, his grip on your hair becoming tighter; making you wince, his nails digging into your scalp.

“I've had my eye on you for a while, you've been avoiding me.” He reveals and you stare at him wide eyed, “You thought I would not notice? That's how you witches give yourselves away, by avoiding me. If you weren't guilty of a crime, you'd not be afraid to face me.” He mutters. “I've only spared you this long because I knew of your family, a younger brother who is bedridden, a mother who relies on you, you've got responsibilities.” He reveals everything he's learned of you leaving you trembling and terrified, wondering how exactly he found all of this out.

“I have my ways, I indeed have a keen eye.” He answers, noticing your surprised expression. His breath fans your face as he pulls you closer, his grip further tightening in your hair which makes you reflexively reach out your hands towards his, trying to pry his hands off. Tears well up in your eyes knowing that you'd die soon.

“You're an odd witch.” He raises an eyebrow, “Not pleading me for mercy, ready to accept your death? I do not like it.” He tuts. “I do think you have a chance for salvation though, you're not as bad as the other witches or too deep in the craft.” He suddenly lets go of your hair causing you to stumble back.

He puts his sword back in the sheath, his eye takes in your features trailing down your body stopping at the cleavage that was slightly exposed before he swallows a lump in his throat.

“Pretty young too.” He comes nearer, kicking the door shut, like a predator stalking its prey, you try to run but he's quick— grabbing you by your waist and pushing you backwards, causing you to fall down. He gets on top of you, pinning your hands with his hand above your head as he straddles your waist.

“I told you, you can be saved, yet it seems like you want to die.” He speaks annoyed by your attempt at escaping. “Confess your faults and beg for forgiveness, you'll be saved. I won't hurt you.” He lies through his teeth. “P-please let me go—” You beg, your body shaking with the amount of adrenaline surging through your body.

He rolls his eye, using his other hand to grab your throat, choking you harshly, cutting off your air supply. You struggle beneath him, writhing your body as you try to escape his grip.

“Beg for forgiveness woman, I never give any witch a chance to live, you should consider yourself of utmost luck.” He tightens his grip on your throat further making you gasp for air.

With your survival instincts kicking in you gasp before choking out a sentence of forgiveness which makes him immediately let go of your throat. “What did you say?” He asks and you take a gasp for air before uttering the same words again. “F-forgive me, I am sorry.” You plead, making his lips contort into a winning smile.

You watch as he breathes heavily, enjoying the power he holds over you, “Beg, beg harder, plead to me, tell me that you're sorry, maybe then the Gods will forgive you.” He leans down whispering in your ear. You shiver in fear before you do as he says. “I- I am sorry, forgive me, I deeply regret my actions—.”

“Take my name.” He interrupts and you furrow your brows “My prince i—” you begin, “No, no, no. My name.” He cuts you off once again staring at you with a wild eye. You take a deep breath. “I am sorry Aemond, forgive me, I repent my actions.” You go on again and his expression changes to that of a pleased one.

Things fall silent between you both after you begged for forgiveness until he let goes of your hands before getting off your body. You sit up right as he stands up, towering over your body.

“On your knees.” He commands and you look at him confused before you notice the visible bulge in his breeches. You stare up at him wide eyed, knowing where this is going.

“You don't think that you'd be forgiven this easily? I'd have to cleanse your body, your mouth that has chanted prayers to your God, get on your knees and close your eyes. Now.” He threatens you, grabbing his sword which makes you immediately obey. You do as he says, getting on your knees and closing your eyes.

You could hear the shuffle of his clothes before a thud of clothes falling down, then you felt it, something pressed up against your lips, it was wet. “Open your mouth,” He grumbles but you hesitate which makes him forcefully open your mouth by himself. Before you could react; he shoves his cock inside your mouth.

You open your eyes, staring at him in terror as he looks at you with a sadistic expression, “Bite and I'll cut your head off.” He grits his teeth before he grabs your hand and shoves his cock further into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Drool leaks from your mouth, dripping down your chin and neck as he thrusts inside your mouth, using your hair as leverage as he continues his assault in your mouth. Tears stream down your cheek, as you blink them away hoping not to upset him.

He closes his eyes enjoying the pleasure of fucking your mouth, ramming his dick into your mouth at a brutal pace— his balls slapping against your chin. You hold onto his thighs for balance, gripping them tightly, trying to resist his motion but it only further motivates him to gain control.

“Fuck— I'm gonna finish. Keep your mouth wide open.” He pulls out his cock, using his fist to finish himself off. His seed spills on your face and some of it goes into your mouth. “Swallow, it will cleanse you.” He utters expecting you to swallow, and you do; not wanting to anger him.

You hoped that this was the end, that he'd be done with this alone. “Lay on the ground, legs spread.” The command shatters your hope and you stare up at him, shaking your head no.

This angers him, and he forces you down, pushing you hard against the floor, laying you down while grabbing your legs and spreading your legs after hiking your skirt up.

“P-please my prince! Anything but this!” You cry out, pushing against him as he settles himself between your legs. “I need to cleanse you from the inside out, woman. This is very much required.” He grunts, keeping your legs forced open as he lines up his cock against your entrance.

Your eyes widen as you feel him prodding your entrance, before he gently pushes himself, he marvels at the sight of your blood leaking onto his dick “Your maidenhead is still intact? Do you witches take a vow for chastity like Septa's do too?” He mocks before pushing further in.

Your hands shoot up to his shoulders, gripping him tightly while you put in an effort to push him away, yet all of it is deemed futile when he doesn't budge an inch. He lets go of your leg before balancing himself on his arms placed on your sides as he just as quickly moves them to rip off your bodice, revealing your mounds of flesh.

He wastes no time before groping them with his hands, you shriek as he twists and plays with your nipple, leaning in to take your teat into his mouth; all while simultaneously pushing himself gently inside your cunt.

He suckles on your nipple, grazing it with his teeth and swirling his tongue around it, you couldn't help but feel ashamed as you looked at the sight.

The prince of the realm suckling away on your tits.

This sent a shot of thunder down your spine making heat pool between your legs, were you seriously getting aroused by this? You felt guilty as your own body betrayed you, welcoming the intruder into your body by providing the necessary needs.

Aemond pulls away from your breast before focusing on the other one, giving it the same attention as he did to the one before, one of his hands slowly trails down the outline of your waist to your belly before it finds itselfs cupping your heat before he further reaches down to where you both were attached.

He lets out a soft moan of approval when he finds that you're wet; pulling the slick up to where you clitoris is before he rubs small circles upon it. “Mhm, you're so fucking wet down there.” He mutters against your nipple, making you feel even more embarrassed.

Aemond lets out an audible moan when he feels you clench around him, he's now settled in cosily inside you, he lifts himself up and positions himself upright, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders before he begins to move inward and outward, slowly thrusting into you.

Your body adjusts to his size quickly, coating his cock with the essence of its approval which makes him chuckle. He accelerates the pace, driving himself into you like an animal, rutting against you like a beast in heat.

You find yourself a moaning mess amongst all of this unwillingly, the way his cock penetrating your cunt felt way more pleasing than it should have, and his hand was working its magic on your clit.

“Fuck— you feel so fucking good, darling, I'm lucky to have spared you.” He growls as he increases his speed even more, the stretch of his cock felt so euphoric that you couldn't help but enjoy it. You knew your body has already betrayed you, now even your mind has become its accomplice.

“Oh- I'm gonna finish inside you, my witch, with it you'll be cleansed of your wrongdoings.” He groans, feeling himself near the edge, his hand rubs faster against your clit, determined to make you cum before he does, all the while he's ramming into your sweet spot.

“Aemond—!” Both the stimulation cause a sudden burst of pleasure to explode in your body, its impact being so heavy that you moaned out his name involuntarily which ended up further pleasing him.

He comes to a sudden halt as he moans loudly, spurting his seed inside you; painting your walls white. He rides his orgasm out before completely pulling out and admiring the scene before him.

You were a panting mess with his seed leaking out of you, dripping down onto the wooden floor as you look dishevelled, your clothes are torn up and hair all messed up. You breathe heavily, processing what just happened.

“Do not waste my seed witch, it will cleanse you from in and out after it takes root in your womb.” Those words make your eyes widen at the implication and you slowly gaze upon him in shock as he puts on his pants back before lifting you off the ground.

He grabs your cloak from the nearby hanger and covers your body with it and soon he lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulders. “W-what are you doing?!” You yell at him as he takes you out of your house before throwing you onto his horse, forcing you to sit on it.

“Oh my sweet witch, you didn't think I was done with you did you? I'm taking you back to the castle, you're going to carry my children and give me heirs.” He says nonchalantly before he gets on the horse himself, holding the reins before taking off.

He had taken quite the liking to you more than he wanted to admit, he had no reason to spare you but he did anyway, perhaps witches weren't bad after all?

You survived but at what cost?

That's all you could think about as you leaned against his chest, the air hitting your face and blowing through your hair as he was taking you to the castle.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[devildomwriter]

Fun Facts 651-660

• Overhearing how much the brothers missed a soup from the Celestial Realm, Simeon hunted down the most similar ingredients he could find in the Devildom to make it for them.

• Mammon was once kidnapped by vines

• Leviathan made himself an octopus costume so he could sneak up on Lucifer. Lucifer threw him into the ocean.

• Even on his days off, Barbatos has a hard time stopping himself from working

• When his brothers splashed him, Satan pulled out a water bazooka and chased them down

• The Great Witch Maddi made Mammon cry. He refuses to be near her now.

• Leviathan accidentally threw a trident at Diavolo

• Solomon once blew up the kitchen in a failed cooking attempt and called MC trying to convince them it was a figment of their imagination and not to come check on him.

• Barbatos gave Belphegor a growth-spurt soup but Belphie drank too much and grew to be the size of the castle.

• When everyone was given a Lepus to raise, Beelzebub was put in charge of feeding them instead because they were worried he might eat his.

641-650 • 661-670

[thebiggerbear]

when were you going to tell me

Summary: After finding out you concealed something from him on a hunt, Dean is not happy with you and he definitely does not appreciate your attempts at humor on the subject.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Hunter!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting. Just dipping back into the writing pool from time to time, one toe each round. This is what popped into my head when I read the prompt. All unbeta'd.

Prompt Line: "When were you going to tell me that you have a hole in your body?"

Warnings: language; mentioned gun violence/injury; implied sex; implications; Reader (really me) being a perv

Word Count: 1787

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel; @hobby27; @impala67rollingthroughtown; @ladysparkles78

Dean Winchester Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @mariahoedt; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @globetrotter28

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch; @bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz; @kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae; @ladykitana90; @roseblue373; @radioactivatedspider

Supernaural Taglist: @just-levyy

Dean was super pissed at you. No, not pissed — pissed.

“When were you going to tell me that you have a hole in your body?” He snapped.

You attempted to give him a smile from your seat on the edge of the bed. “Uh, the third date?”

His jaw tightened and his glare immediately transferred from you to his younger brother who had snorted in amusement and was currently attempting to smother a grin. “Don’t encourage her.” Sam threw his hands up in placation but you snickered.

“At least Samsquatch thinks I’m funny.” You winced and sucked in air through your teeth as you tried to peel the right arm of your jacket off. Dean was suddenly there, taking over and gently moving the material away from your wound. “Serves you right,” he muttered. As he studied the bullet you’d taken on the hunt you all just returned from, you studied him — marveling at him in fact. Fury emanated off of him in waves and yet his touch was as gentle as could be. His expression was severe and yet his eyes had a softened edge to them as he tended to you. 

“Sammy, get the med kit out of my bag and bring it over here,” he ordered before briefly turning a fresh glare on you.

You let out a small sigh. “Dean, I get that you’re mad but how was I to know one of them was armed? I mean, what kind of a werewolf carries a gun anyway? Bitch move, if you ask me.”

“The kind that wants to get away at any cost. You’re lucky they only popped you in the shoulder. Now maybe next time you’ll actually listen to me and stay close.” He angrily snatched the proffered gauze from Sam’s hand, refusing to look up at you as he opened the package. “You should have told me.” 

Concern laced his harsh tone and had you wishing you could put both arms around him to pull him close. Instead, you pressed your lips together; you knew he was right. You should have let him and Sam know you had been shot the moment you regrouped where the Impala was parked but considering the alpha had gotten away in the melee, you all were desperate to get out of there and hunt him down. One dead alpha later thanks to Dean’s silver bullets, you still hadn’t told either Winchester and you gritted your teeth at the pain. You were being stupid, you knew you were being stupid, but you just couldn’t push yourself to admit that Dean had been right and you had been wrong. You had butted heads before; you could take care of yourself and Dean wanted you to use the safety of numbers. Needless to say when you were finally forced to admit what happened once you all got back to the motel thanks to Sam accidentally knocking into you forcing you to let out a loud curse, Dean had been harsh and unforgiving, always being a few words away from ‘I told you so’. And while you hated it, you knew you deserved the ass-chewing you were getting. But you would take everything he had to throw at you and more if it meant you wouldn’t have to see the look on his face that you were seeing right now. You’d scared him, terrified him even, and he hadn’t known in the moment that he’d been a heartbeat away from losing you. A fact that was then reiterated by him gruffing out, “If his aim had been a few centimeters to the right…”

You could feel a lump forming in your throat at the pain now clouding his gaze as he pressed the gauze to your wound. You snuck a look over at Sam who gave you an understanding nod, grabbed the ice bucket, and left the room without a word.

You gently covered Dean’s hands with your left one, urging him to look at you. It took him a moment but he reluctantly lifted his eyes to meet yours. Even more pain swirled in those green depths and it broke your heart. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” you whispered. “I should have told you. And I will never go off on my own again or scare you like that. I promise.”

He watched you for a moment and when he determined you meant what you were telling him, he capitulated with a nod and went back to focusing on your wound. You moved your hand to one of his wrists and briefly squeezed before letting him go.

After a minute, you decided to lighten things up a little while you still could. He was going to have to dig the bullet out since it didn’t go through. As much pain as you’d been in for the past two hours, you were bound to be in a hell of a lot more in the next few minutes so you only had a short window. You got a good look at the wound when he pulled the bloody gauze away and gave it an approving nod. “So, whaddya say after you fix this hole, I can show you what other holes I have that might need tending to, hmm?” His gaze snapped to you and you gave him your best seductive smirk, arching an eyebrow in meaning.

As expected, Dean rolled his eyes and he thrust a half-finished bottle of whiskey at you. “I never thought I’d say this to a girl but you are banned from referring to your…other holes like that. For forever. Especially in front of Sam.”

“Oh come on, you know you love it when I do,” you teased, taking a swig of the amber liquid.

“I know I love you,” he suddenly replied, his tone serious yet ever so quiet, and his focus now on the kit in front of him.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. In all of the time you’d been doing the no pants dance on a semi-regular basis, not once had Dean uttered the L-word. Sure, you knew how much he loved your ass and how his hands seemed to be super-glued to the area whenever Sam wasn’t looking, how much he loved it when when you did that thing with your tongue and throat at the same time that made him bite into the side of his fist to keep quiet, and how much he loved when you fucked him. But never had he ever in all of this time told you that he loved you.   

He hesitantly met your gaze and when he saw your smile, he seemed to relax slightly and clear his throat. “You should drink a little more of that before I start digging the bullet out.”

When he took the bottle from you, you used your free hand to gently tug on his flannel. “Me too, you know.” When he glanced over at you, you whispered, “I love you, too.”

His features softened a little in surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He fought to keep a smile off of his handsome face and seemed determined to remember he was still mad at you, but the light in his eyes remained. “Okay.” A simple okay — as if okay, that’s decided and that’s it. Very simple and matter of fact. When your grin grew, he shyly looked away before snapping back into focus, intent on switching into a medic role. “This is going to hurt.” His expression was then completely apologetic.

“I know. It’s okay,” you reassured him. “Not my first gunshot wound.” At the furrowing of his brows and his eyes roaming all over you, you dug your fingers into his jeans to distract him and gave him a nod. You could tell him all about that later; besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the scar on your leg at some point.

The distraction having succeeded, Dean let it go for now and poured the whiskey on the open wound. You nearly screamed from the pain, tightening your grip on him.

His lips were immediately lingering against the skin of your forehead. “I’m sorry, baby,” you thought you heard him murmur to you but you were in so much agony you couldn’t be sure. When the sting began to fade into the steady throb you had grown used to, you heard him tease, “So, third date, huh?”

You gave a tiny shrug of your one good shoulder, wincing. “Date, hunt, whatever.” Sam and the world didn’t need to know exactly when you and Dean had made the beast with two backs. Third, first — it was all the same to you.

You’d known Sam and Dean back in the day and when you found yourselves accidentally on the same hunt years later, Dean may have given you a second look which you more than eagerly returned (you’d had a crush on him for years when you were younger) and when you used his last-night-on-Earth line on him at a local dive bar later on… You bit your bottom lip to keep at bay the memories of the creaking of the Impala, your moans from his lips trailing everywhere, and his deep groans of “Fuck” in your ear as he tightly held onto you from that night. Damn, if you weren’t shot right now, you might ask him to recreate that particularly explosive night, especially since you both were sharing a room with Sam on this trip. Perhaps once Dean was through and you were all bandaged up, you could convince him to go for a drive so you could show him just what your good arm could still do. Sure, you were a natural righty, but you could get creative. Not to mention you were shot in the shoulder, not your lower half, and it certainly wouldn’t keep your jaw from working.

Dean chuckled, pulling you from your dirty thoughts about said man who tenderly kissed your hairline before searching for the forceps in his kit. “Right.” He poured some alcohol over the tool and gave you one more kiss before focusing on your shoulder. “You ready?”

“One sec.” You grunted as you lifted up slightly to plant a kiss to his stubbled jaw. He turned to look at you and you shot him a smirk. “Hurry the fuck up, Winchester, and get to work getting this bullet out of me so we can go for a drive and I can show you how ambidextrous I can be.”

You watched his throat bob up and down as he swallowed and then a smirk crawled onto his face to mirror yours, his eyes darkening to an all-too familiar shade. “Yes, ma’am.”

And he got straight to work.

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[brimstone-rose]

cant actually post this until midnight bc i hit post limit but i’m unfollowing every single one of y’all posting that iced coffee ed tweet without further context and i wish you all a very shut the fuck up forever

[samsno1]

Flowers

Castiel x GN!Reader

i love his eyes. that's it, that's the tweet. guys...this is very sweet but i don't know if i'm satisfied?? tell me what you think, writing castiel is very hard, lawd

Summary: In a hunt, a flower appears over your pillow after you come back to the motel room at night. Who left it there?

Warnings: FLUFF, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, i pictured s4/5 cas in this, use of y/n, sweet confession, NOT PROOF READ, that's it? english isn't my first language

WC: 2.5k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

When you started hunting with Sam and Dean one of the last things you expected to encounter was an Angel, especially after discovering they aren't “harps and halos" like in the books you read as a kid, but instead soldiers and sometimes assholes.

Castiel was an exception to the “asshole” part, he was actually very sweet when it came to you and the boys. Helped you, saved you and cared for you. In that sense, Cas was just like the Angel stories, a guardian of the humans he was in charge of.

And for you, it was fun teaching Cas about humans and how they behaved, helped him when he didn't understand Dean's pop culture references, got him to watch classic movies and listen to music and he was always very keen into doing so, curious and intrigued in what you explained to him.

Those big blue eyes always gave you his full attention, sometimes with that little frown that you started to call “The Angel Frown” while he questioned you about something that, to you, was basic knowledge. You were always as patient as possible with him, always clarifying what you could in words he could understand and that ended up always making him come to you for help.

In conclusion, you and Cas got closer and you started to catch yourself staring when he wasn't looking, admiring his smiles, drowning into his sapphire eyes and wishing that he had just more doubts about how people acted so you could spend more time with him.

You knew, from what Castiel told you, that Angels and feelings, human feelings at least, weren't compatible and that things such as love and romance weren't truly a reality for him and his siblings, they were warriors after all, created to serve their Father and that was it. 

Even when Castiel rebelled for the Winchesters, letting go of the “I don't serve men” mindset was difficult but you, Dean and Sam were there for him. You were more understandable then the brothers because you knew Cas was trying his best.

And because you fell for the Angel, but nobody needed to know that.

One night you arrived at the motel room you were staying at, after waving goodnight to Sam and Dean, them going to their separate room.

You opened the door and sighed deeply in exhaustion. It had been a long day of questioning and more questions appearing then those answered. At first you guys thought of a vengeful spirit, then cursed object, then witch. All of those possibilities were still up and it was driving you three insane. People were dying and you felt useless.

Once you closed the door and threw your stuff in the closest table you turned to your bed, where your bag was placed to get some clothes to take a well deserved shower. But, when you looked at your pillow, you noticed a single pink flower sitting over it and you furrowed your eyebrows.

You approached the flower slowly, skeptical about it, your hunter instincts telling you this wasn't good news. You slowly reached for it, as if it could bite your hand off, and picked it up. You analyzed the plant, very confused and grabbed your laptop.

You searched until you found a flower similar to the one you were holding and learned it was a Camellia. You looked between the screen and the flower and you searched up what a pink Camellia meant because, as much as you knew, flowers weren't really something you looked into.

What you found was shocking. According to the internet, a pink Camellia represents admiration and appreciation and Camellias and general represent love and affection. You widen your eyes at the flower in your hands, looking around your empty room as if someone would pop up and explain what this was doing at your bed. Wrong room?

You couldn't think of anybody that could give you this willingly. It definitely wasn't Sam or Dean because, first, they spent the whole day by your side and, second, unless they meant it platonically, the boys didn't see you like that. You loved them and they loved you, of course, but, to them, you were like a sister Dean loves you like he loves Sam, the same way Sam loves you like he loves Dean and vice-versa.

The only person that came to your mind was…No, it couldn't be, he said himself, love for him was basically unachievable but you couldn't help but wonder, even if your rational brain said it was stupid to think Cas would mean that. You smiled at the flower, that tinge of hope lightning inside you.

You looked around the room to look for something you could fill up with water and found an empty beer bottle. That'll do.

You washed the bottle to get the smell of alcohol off and filled it up with water, placing the little flower inside.

The pink color of the petals clashed with the transparent green of the bottle and you smiled at that. It looked cute in a way. You thought, even if this didn't come from someone you knew, you were keeping it, at least the flower.

You left the makeshift vase in your nightstand and took your stuff to the shower, peeling off your suit and your tie on the way, leaving it on the ground as you locked yourself inside the bathroom.

In these moments, Cas thanked his abilities of becoming unseen because you arrived just as he was leaving the Camellia over your pillow. He spent the day researching flowers, finding an interest in how humans always gave them to the people they cared about or to the ones who passed. He wanted to give you one to show you that he cared for you and also as a thank you for being patient with him for a long time.

He always felt happier around you, a warm feeling inside him always seemed to bloom. He felt the need to be close to you, like you were a human magnet. Everytime you looked at him he felt a weird feeling in his stomach, your smile was always something he felt the need to chase, he wanted to see it always in your face. He admired the way your eyes would shine when you were talking about something you liked.

When he saw you placing the flower on the nightstand with a smile he felt that weird feeling in his stomach again. He would do anything to see that look on your face again.

That hunt lasted a week, taking you three too long to figure out it was a witch and even longer to find said witch and to say you guys were fed up was an understatement. 

For that long week you dared to say you missed the Angel, you thought about calling him, praying to him, multiple times but what were you going to say when he arrived? Missed you? I just wanted to see you?

Everything you thought sounded too intimate so you discarded the idea of calling him.

But two more flowers appeared on your pillow after that pink Camellia. A Peony that you learned meant for the Chinese something along the lines of “the most beautiful” and a stunning Carnation in a light red shade that represented admiration. At this point you were very intrigued about who was the one giving you the flowers, Castiel still on your mind. You didn't want to get your hopes too high, you were probably overthinking it anyways, making your heart speak louder than your brain.

You were lying on your bed, staring at the tiny bouquet of three flowers given piece by piece to you. It was your last night in that room, Dean having insisted he needed the sleep so as to not crash the Impala from tiredness. You had offered to drive as you weren't as bad as he was but, of course, that was an immediate no from the older brother so all of you settled for one more night.

As you close your eyes and start to fall asleep, a sudden flutter of wings gets your attention. It's dark in the room so you take a peek and for sure it's Cas. You hold back a smile and close your eyes, pretending to be sleeping.

You feel the Angel approaching the bed, his presence making your heart quicken in your chest. From what it sounds like, he's just standing, watching you and you start to feel very nervous.

Castiel on the other hand arrived to see your sleeping form and couldn't help but watch. You looked peaceful, your breathing was calm and you looked…pretty. Cas thought all his father's creations were wonderful but he felt like you could top them all, literally, in your sleep.

He had another little flower in his hand which, to him, had a very self-explanatory name, a Forget-Me-Not.

He spun the blue flower on his fingers, debating if he should leave it inside the vase or besides you, over your pillow. 

He approached you and while he was placing the flower next to your head he felt a gentle hand wrap around his wrist and instantly froze on the spot.

You opened your eyes and looked at his near-horrified face. You smiled at him.

“Got you” You said, a little above a whisper and looked at the flower he was holding. That one you knew the name and what it meant and you felt warmth spreading through your cheeks, not just at that one flower, but knowing now that all those flowers you received came from Cas.

“I'm sorry for disturbing you” He said as he retreated his hand and you held the Forget-Me-Not. He was tense, not looking at you.

“So you were the secret admirer leaving me these flowers?” You asked as you slowly sat up on the bed and placed the blue flower inside the bottle with the three others. You placed both your hands over your lap, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. “Why?”

He looked around. What was he supposed to say? Himself barely knew why he was doing this but it felt right so he kept going with it. He noticed that the flower meanings resembled things that he felt or thought of you and he enjoyed collecting them for you, especially after you kept them.

“These flowers all have a meaning behind them” He started “Take them as a thank you for…being helpful with my understanding of human behaviors” 

You smiled stupidly at that. The way he said it sounded like something he had rehearsed before coming to you to say it, the words too polite. But yet, that's one of the things you liked about him.

“You didn't have to Cas…They are beautiful, thank you” You said and looked at the flowers again, biting your lip. You felt his eyes on you, it was always intimidating. You knew that it was just the way he was, look right into your eyes while you talk to show you had his full attention, his beautiful blue orbs hypnotizing.

Cas analyzed every aspect of yours as you sat in front of him, his eyes wondering over your figure and his hands moved faster than his thoughts and he reached for your shoulder, his palm traveling from your shoulder blade to the end of your upper arm and back up, tracing a pattern over your skin. He longed to touch you and be closer to you in a way he couldn’t explain so, in this moment, you both alone, he decided to fulfill this wish.

You widened your eyes and looked up at Castiel who was entranced by the movement of his hand, goosebumps flaring up on your skin.

“Cas?” You said and acknowledged your call with a hum “What are you…?”

He finally looked at you, his hand steadied on your shoulder.

“When I’m around you I always feel this need to touch you, be closer and this…” He shakes his head, finding a word to define how he felt. “Warmth comes over me everytime you smile”

His eyes bore through yours and you could only stare back at him, shocked.

“Cas, you’re saying–”

“I think I might love you, Y/N” He interrupted. The way he said it sounded like a confusion, a slight approach, as if he was tiptoeing around the thought, not sure if he wanted to grasp it or just keep his distance.

You were dumbfounded. He sounded so sincere and your heart started to beat faster, his hand over your shoulder felt like it was burning through your skin. It all made sense, the flowers, the way he was always keen on talking to you even when you did most of the talking and he just listened with a faint smile and pure interest, he just didn’t know because he never felt like this before, he didn’t know what loving was like.

You landed a hand over his cheek, your eyes practically watering with an emotional overload at his words. You thumb rubbed the light stubble on his cheek and you pulled him in for a hug. You wanted to kiss him so bad but you were on a baby steps basis with the Angel.

You hugged him tightly, his hands hesitantly wrapping around your frame as you let out a deep breath. When you pulled back, you didn’t pull away completely from him looking between his eyes and his mouth, a giddy smile on your face.

“I think I might love you too Castiel” You said and he widened his own eyes, a light chuckle coming out of you at his reaction.

Your chuckles were cut off by his lips on yours and you gasped in surprise. His mouth was as soft as you expected, his lips moving against your in perfect sync. He was impressively a good kisser, one of his hands gently holding at the back of your neck while the other slid down to your waist.

You felt like a bomb had exploded inside you, a foreign feeling of happiness spreading to every single cell on your body as your arms wrapped around his neck to hold yourself when he sat on the bed, pulling you over his lap, making you yelp.

You both pulled away, your arms still wrapped around each other and he had a light smile on his face. You one hundred per cent had a shocked look on yours, your cheeks hot and breathing heavy.

“Where’d you learn that?” You asked, absolutely knocked by the kiss.

“Dean told me a thing or two” He said and you couldn’t help but laugh, your body shaking against his as he also chuckled. “It seems like I did great?”

You stopped your laughs and looked in his eyes, drowning in their ocean blue. You gave a peck to the corner of his mouth.

“You did amazing” You said as one of your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck and he pulled you in, the warmth spreading through both of you yet again, never wanting to let go.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback helps me make those writing better. Thank you for reading, XoXo.