Long Luke Imagine - Smut

Request: yes

"Can you please do a SMUT of where Luke accidentally butt dials his girlfriend (Y/N) and tells the guys his kinks .Which are ( being called sir, spanking you, lingerie, and you riding his thigh, eating you out ) and when he gets home you guys have sex"



-McKenna xx

Butt Dial

Your eyes flutter open to a dimly lit room. Everything was silent for a split second before your phone let out a loud jingle next to you on your side table. You rolled over in your bed and peered down at the screen.

It was Luke. As you slowly became more and more coherent after your long sleep and remembered that Luke had left early for the studio, you pulled your phone to your face.

“Hey, legs.” You greeted groggily, leaning back on Luke’s lumpy pillow.

There was no answer on the other end.

“Luke?” You asked. “Can you hear me?”

Luke still didn’t answer. But you could faintly hear voices coming through the device, followed by a loud burst of laughter.

“Luke?! Hello!?” You said in a louder voice, sitting up slightly in the bed.

“Luke, you’re so much kinkier than I thought!”

“What a cheeky bloke!”

You heard more laughing coming through your phone as you realized Luke had butt dialed you. Normally, you would hang up and not worry about it. But you heard your name in Ashton’s voice, followed by another roar of laughter.

You pressed your phone closer to your ear and sat up in the bed, attention completely on what the boys were talking about on the other end. You leaned back against the headboard just as you finally heard Luke’s voice on the other end.

“Last night, she was so horny that when I got back to the hotel after writing, she couldn’t wait to get to the bed.”

“Shit, Luke!” You heard Ashton giggle.

“What happened?” Calum teased just then.

Of course you knew each of the boys’ voices, being around them every single day and all.

“At first, she shoved me against the door…” Luke paused. “…and then she was on her knees suddenly.”

“This is getting weird. Do we really want to know what happens next?” Michael muttered shyly.

“This is good shit.” Ashton piped up. “Little Luke is growing up.”

“Fuck it.” Luke said then. “We do a lot, okay?”

The boys laughed again at Luke, followed by a short lull in the conversation.

“So what gets you up, Lukey?” Calum teased again.

“Uhh…” Luke hummed.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” Michael said urgently.

“I really like when she calls me ‘sir’…”

“That explains so much!” Calum said.

“I always thought she was joking!” Ashton said.

“Oh my god…” Michael groaned.

“She has such a sweet body. When she wears this light pink, lacy lingerie, I literally stopped everything I’m doing at that moment.” Luke explains.

“To do her?” Calum laughed, followed by Ashton’s giggle.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…?” Luke said defensively.

“What else?” Ashton asked, sounded surprisingly interested. Probably because Luke was quite innocent and awkward and never talked that sexually. Not to mention he hooked up with no one and never used the whole “I’m in a band” excuse to get a girl. But ever since he had met and started dating you, he became more comfortable and confident in himself.

“Ugh and that ass of hers is so nice.” Luke continued.

“Yeah it is.” Calum said. “Ow! I have eyes, you know?”

“Don’t look at my girlfriend!” Luke yelped at him, clearly having done some physical pain that you obviously couldn’t see.

“How does she taste?” You could hear the smirk in Ashton’s voice.

“Dude!” Luke shot at him. “What the hell?”

“Well, while you’re talking about all your kinky shit…” Ashton trailed off.

“Good, okay?” Luke admitted. “She actually tastes really good. She’s like…sweet.”

“Well, shit, dude! Congrats.” Ashton marveled.

“Don’t underestimate me.” Luke said.

“Hey, Mike, we need another vocal from you.” A voice faintly said in the background.

Squeaking and doors opening and closing continued in the back. There was lots of static and shuffling around until it all stopped.

“Oh shit…” Luke mumbled. “Y/N?”

Luke’s voice was louder now as he said your name. You quickly hung up and tossed your phone to the side of the bed. Your cheeks burned with the blood boiling under the skin.

Luke realized you had heard everything. And the thought of that, turned you on greatly. You now knew everything Luke liked and you knew directly what you wanted to do to him.

A few hours later, Luke pushed open the door to your hotel room.

“Y/N?” He called. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir?” You came around the corner in nothing but your pink, lacy thong and matching bra.

“Shit…” Luke mumbled as he eyed you up and down. He ran his tongue over his lip ring and took a step toward you.

Luke placed one of his hands in the curve of your side and pressed his lips firmly down on yours.

“I heard what you were saying today.” You whispered as you just barely pulled away from Luke’s mouth. “You’ve been a bad boy.”

“I’m not even sure how that happened.” Luke admitted.

“You butt-dialed me, silly.”

“So, how much did you hear…?”

“Everything…” You chuckled. “So, prepare yourself for some fun, Hemmings.”

“You’re so hot when you’re dominant.” Luke said as you took him to the unmade bed from that morning and shoved him down on it.

You moved forward and straddled his thigh, leaning down and kissing his neck. You grinded your hips along his long thigh, feeling yourself become wet through your thong. Given that it was only lace, you would soon be soaking through to Luke’s jeans.

“What are you going to do now, sir?” You dared.

Luke didn’t answer as you continued to ride his thigh. He reached up and grabbed your waist as he flipped you over so that he was now on top. Without any further teasing, Luke ripped your thong from your body and spread your legs aggressively. His lips immediately crashed into your dripping heat, his tongue swirling around your clit. You arched your back into his mouth and threw your head back.

“Fuck…” You breathed loudly.

“That’s exactly what we will be doing…” Luke winked up at you.

Lover, Hunter, Doctor

Dean imagine requested by anon. As this imagine has been edited for reposting (just to amp up the details. I wrote this a long time ago), I no longer have the original request, but I can supply a basic outline: "The reader takes ill, which brings out the nurse in her boyfriend, Dean." Hope you like it!

You woke, dizzy even before opening your eyes, to chilling fingers probing along your forehead and temples. You were instantly aware of the buckets upon buckets of sweat rolling off your skin like dewdrops off a car windshield in a hurricane, as well as the sickening churning in your stomach. You heard a sort of electronic ringing behind the voice speaking from beside your ear, every sound muffled by the hum within your skull.

“Hey, Y/n, you’re alright. You’re burning up. I just need you to try to go back to sleep, okay?” Came the breathy whisper of your doting boyfriend Dean, his icy hands caressing your clammy cheek. You squirmed beneath the too-hot, sticky bed sheets, desperate to liberate yourself from the inferno trapped underneath the starched cotton cavern, your stomach roiling as your body shifted every which way. The pain was more discomfort than agony, you noted, your stomach tensing and twisting with your every swallow. Hazy splotches erupting against the pitch expanse of your closed eyelids, violent hues somehow burning their way through the darkness to disrupt the peace you found in the inky interior. You opened your mouth to speak, but the sandpaper texture of your throat and tongue prohibited any vocals from being summoned, let alone heard. You were trapped within your own body, your skin too tight all over, your back swamped with salted sweat, your head spinning wildly, temples aching from an invisible, internal riot. You crushed the heel of your palm over your right eye, attempting to squash the migraine from your head. Your plan was ineffective. The marching band clashed on.

You felt your head being lifted by a sturdy hand on the back of your skull, tipping you forward with ease as though you were nothing more than a rain-dampened, forgotten doll. More shushing came from between Dean’s unseen lips, his breath chilling as it blew over your cheeks, his steady exhale blustering over the forest fire-turned-tundra that was your skin as he brought the cup of water to your parched lips, instructing you to drink with a soft, protective whisper. You could barely manage to lift your head without feeling woozy, but you managed to swallow the icy liquid as it slithered between your teeth, hydrating you only for the dryness to return in your mouth seconds later. The ringing intensified, a groan rumbling from your chest, the sound more scratch than wordless speech. Dean’s hand relocated the cup, his palm smoothing over your cheek, his hands like frozen marble.

“Okay, you’re alright. Just lie back… what hurts?” Dean asked, easing you back into your previous position, lifting the blankets out of your way before tucking them around your chin, your sweltering head nestling back down onto your sweat-soaked pillow, the fabric crunching like snow in your ears. You opened your eyes enough to catch a glimpse of your living conditions as well as your nurse, the limited light burning against the tissue of your brain, the dank motel bedroom kept grey and gloomy by the closed curtains, reflecting your mood as if a wire were running from your mind to the interior decorator’s. Dean was slumped beside your bed in a splintering wooden dining chair he seemed to have pulled from the kitchen, his fingers fiddling with a Solo cup on your nightstand, his unoccupied hand rubbing up and down your concealed arm. He smiled sadly, seeing your eyes open, his face withered by fatigue. How long had he been tending to you? The skin beneath his eyes had been painted with a dark, careless hand, a deep purple grey you’d only ever seen on Hollywood zombies marring his features. He wasn’t his regular tired, overworked or stressed self… this was an entirely different genre of sleep deprivation. Hell, Dean was the poster child for insomnia.

“My… just… everything,” You rasped, your voice matching a senile chain-smoker’s more easily than it did the youthful, healthy hunter it belonged to. Dean clicked his tongue with quiet, unspoken sympathy, moving to tuck a runaway wisp of your dampened hair behind your ear, removing it from the place it had adhered itself to on your temple, his fingertips trailing along your hairline. You caught his hand, lacing your fingers through his, relaxing as much as was humanely possible for a plague victim as his fingers tightened gently around yours.

“Looks like you caught a cold. And the flu. And a stomach… thing.” Dean whispered, conscious of the searing migraine growing on the inside of your temple. You grunted in dismay.

“Probably strep throat too,” You managed to choke out, flames licking at your vocal chords. “I can’t even swallow without-” Dean silenced you with a finger to your cracking lips, the oils of his skin stinging like a wasp. You contained your wince, ignoring the pain as opposed to letting him know how fragile you were, how even his so simple touch caused you pain.

“Then you’re on verbal lockdown,” He whispered, his voice rough with authority. You opened your mouth to protest, but Dean’s raised eyebrows caught the words in your throat before you could think to say them. “Not a word,” He reiterated, his finger pointed at your face, a smile dancing across those perfect lips of his. Damn him and his power play. You sighed, sinking into the divot in the mattress your restless body had created sometime during your night, the heat swarming your body. Dean kissed your dewy forehead before leaving to retrieve a bowl of canned soup from the motel’s microwave, his footsteps fading the further he traveled from your bedside. Unfortunately, you were unable to receive his surprisingly domestic achievement, the bile rising in your throat redirecting the course of the afternoon, the pressure in your abdomen increasing. Sirens were wailing in your head, your eyes bugging out of your skull, your body wired to react as efficiently as possible to avoid spewing the contents of your stomach onto the bed sheets… not that they’d smell any different. You untangled yourself from your smoldering prison, flying with Godspeed to the bathroom, slamming the door and turning the lock mere seconds before Hoover Dam let loose the floods. It took an impressive handful of seconds for Dean’s hands to slam against the thin wood, his voice urgent, worried. “Y/n? You alright?” He called, his voice muffled by the obstruction between you. You couldn’t answer.

You retched, heaving up last night’s burger, fries… everything, all the way down to the chocolate jimmies that had topped your strawberry ice cream, which showed up during your next bout of nausea. You struggled to keep your hair away from your mouth as you heaved, your abdomen clenching painfully as you expelled yet another round of salted fries. Dean pounded his fist against the door, the frantic sound echoing off the curving wall of the toilet you were currently hanging your head in, the porcelain shattering the sound from all sides, Dean’s voice ricocheting around. Your hands wiped at the sweat on your brow, collecting stray hairs to keep out of the line of fire while you caught your breath, your eyes swimming. Dean gave no warning when he kicked the door in, your body jolting at the crunching of wood, his heavy footsteps rushing to your side, his hand brushing yours aside, taking the role of human hair elastic. His free hand wiped at the streams of tears as they cascaded down your blazing cheeks. Both of your hands, now free, flew to straddle the toilet bowl. His body was pressed into yours, the foundation at your back easing the tremors while you vomited, red-faced from illogical embarrassment. It was hardly glamourous to blow chunks in front of your boyfriend… but he never complained. He just whispered his apologies and brushed the hair from your forehead, his hands ghosting over your cheeks and the back of your neck, hard muscles flush against your spine.

When you had finished, you heaved nothing but air, body convulsing despite the lack of content within your stomach. This was what it must feel like to pump air into a punctured tire, only reversed in a most horrible fashion. The action of your muscles clenching was present, but you were getting nowhere. After a good ten minutes of dry-heaving, it was finally over. The ringing in your ears returned, to your dismay, but the roiling of your stomach dissipated until it was no more than a dull ache from exertion. You pulled the frigid metal plunger to flush the remnants one last time down into the sewer system, a trembling hand reaching back to lay atop Dean’s denim-clad thigh. He shifted, positioning his hands beneath your underarms, lifting you easily to your feet.

“Come on, that’s alright. You’re okay,” He murmured, guiding you back to your borrowed bed. Once your body hit the duvet, your eyes began to droop again, blocking out the faded light sifting in through the curtains, your body exhausted from the Hell it had recently endured. You held on to consciousness as you did to Dean’s hand; weakly, you determination overpowering your physical ability. He gestured to the bowl of soup, his emerald eyes crinkling around the corners, mischief sparkling within. “S’pose this is pointless now,” He whispered, a chuckle escaping through his words. You tried your best to give a faint smile, but you were positive it was morphed along the way into a pained, fatigued grimace. Dean cradled your face in his free hand, pulling your hand to his chest with his other. His fingertips trailed along your cheekbone, providing the much needed ice to your flaming skin. His heart beat strongly through his shirt, thumping dully against the backside of your hand, his eyes shining with love. You felt yourself slipping from conscious thought, your efforts having exhausted you. He grinned, a hand smoothing over your hair. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” He whispered, his promise a barely audible echo on the horizon. You obliged, giving in to restless slumber, your dreams haunted by Dean’s soft, hummed rendition of “Hey Jude” and the soothing touch of his hand on yours, his fingers rubbing circles into your hand until your slipped away to dream.

Daily Dose of Dean Winchester Feels #7

"I just didn’t realize it would come so soon", he says. Letting the words sink in. Letting the meaning of it sink in. He was alright to die. He was alright to go. But time flies when you are running - fighting - for your life. One week becomes a lifetime. The edge of a blade a lifeline. "Tell me I don’t have to do this", he pleads, hoping he can stop running, get a bit more time. He might not have fought all that strong to stay alive lately, but had longed for nothingness, for peace, for death. But in that moment. The blade a weight in his hands, a decision between life and death. His eyes filled with tears. It’s in this moment he feels it stronger than he had in a long time: He wants to live. Wants to be himself. But like he always has, he takes a step back. Thinks of anyone but himself when he raises the blade. Accepts his own death while Cain’s lifeless body falls to the floor.

Taylor Swift - Style (Sehun Song Scenario)

Thank you so much! ❤️ Decided to turn your request into a song scenario! Hope you like it!


"Get in."

His voice was heavy with whatever he had on his mind. His eyes dark and almost dream like contrasting against his pale face. Her eyes traveled to his hands that were gripping the steering wheel his knuckles turning white. Y/N shook her head softly “no”

"-You should turn on your headlights" she muttered. Sehun sighed running a hand through his hair "alright I’ll turn them on. Now get in" Y/N shook her head she wanted to yell at him, slap him make him know how she was feeling but no words came out.

"Why now?"


"Why do you decide to visit me now? It’s been forever since we’ve seen each other" she shivered, the wind was blowing and she had gotten out of her place with nothing but a tank top and jeans on. "I missed you" Sehun nodded once his brows furrowed and he looked at the dark street in front of him. Right… Missed her.

"It’s late you should just leave" he sighed and turned to look at her, "come here" Y/N thought about it and leaned forward towards the car window Sehun shifted in his seat carefully grabbing the back of her neck and kissed her.

She took in the musky scent of his cologne, the way his car smelled like leather, his fingers perfectly covering the back of her neck his lips favoriting her bottom lip. Y/N took a step back gasping for air, the cold wind whipping her back into reality. “Go” she muttered.

Sehun raised an eyebrow at her but nodded rolling up the windows to his car. That was one good thing about him, she didn’t have to beg him for things. If she was mad he’d leave and give her the space she needed. But this time she wasn’t mad she was furious. “I’ll call you, get inside it’s freezing”

He drove off leaving her shivering even more. Y/N ran inside her house quickly walking to her room. He was hiding it from her, he seemed perfectly calm until she noticed the way his hands gripped the steering wheel. That’s what gave it away. She grabbed the red lipstick he had bought her and threw it across the room.

It wasn’t enough. She grabbed the bracelet Sehun had bought her for her birthday and broke it in half.. Better but still not enough she went to her closet and took out his T-shirt she used as pajamas. Grabbing a pair of scissors she cut it into pieces. She let the fabric fall on the floor.

She looked out the window, it was pitch black. Except for the dim glow of the moonlight. Sehun…. The idiot didn’t turn on his headlights. She bit her lip debating if she should call. Just because she was mad she didn’t care. Y/N grabbed her phone off the bed and dialed his number.

"Let me guess you want me to come back?" He answered jokingly.

"Did you turn on your headlights?" She interjected.

"I don’t need them. It attracts attention"

"Sehun it’s midnight, it’s dark you need headlights"

"Y/N I need to tell you something.."

She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to hear it now, all she wanted was him to turn on his car lights. “I know.” She muttered. Sehun didn’t respond but she heard his intake of breath, she could imagine his jaw dropping open. “Is it true? The rumors? Of you and that girl?”

"…. It’s true. I’m so sorry, but trust me  all I could think about was you" how cliche. She let out a soft sob and covered her mouth quickly so he wouldn’t hear. "I don’t want to know who she is or how much you love me. It’s over" her heart dropped when she heard the engine reeve. Was he speeding?

"Don’t do this Jagi.. I’m sorry" before she could reply a car honk pierced her ear followed by the sound of scraping metal as Sehun collided with something. "Sehun?" Silence.

"SEHUN?" She yelled into the phone. Her blood turned cold and her knees buckled against her will.

She fell to the floor the world spinning around her.

fic type: one shot

pairing: legolas x pregnant!wife!reader

words: 824 (sorry it’s a bit shorter than usual)

requested by: anonymous

A/N: Dear Anon, I kind of went in a less cooking and more just eating in the kitchens direction with the request, but I hope that it is okay. Thanks for complimenting my writing, I hope you have a lovely day too. 

Also, thanks for being so polite. 

You rolled over in the bed to see your husband Legolas sleeping. He was beautiful like this. His pink lips parted slightly as he inhaled softly. It was beyond you how such a man had ever even spared you a second glance, but Legolas loved you, and that was what mattered.

“Watching me sleep, now are we?” he teased, opening his eyes.

“Perhaps” you said, with a smirk

You sat in silence for a moment, before groaning loudly.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked, eyes widened in worry.

“I’m fine, Legolas. I’m just hungry is all”

“Did you not eat dinner?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, I did. But I am still hungry. I’m eating for two you know” you said as you gestured down to your swollen belly. You were about six months in to your pregnancy with your first child. You were frightened at first, but Legolas had calmed your fears. He was beyond thrilled to be a father.

At your comment, he smiled.

“Will you be alright until breakfast?”

“No. I want to go eat.”

He sighed and looked somewhat reluctant to leave his bed, but did so nonetheless. He helped you to your feet.

You walked, hand-in-hand, through the long winding corridors of the palace. You had absolutely no idea how to get to the kitchens, but you knew that Legolas did, and you trusted him.

He led you to one doorway, where you saw a guard standing watch. The guard was the first to speak.

“I am sorry, my lord, but I cannot let you pass in to the kitchens. There is to be a feast tomorrow and the King doesn’t want anyone taking the food” he said, looking slightly fearful.

Legolas sighed.

“I understand my father’s orders, but could you please choose now to take a few minutes break and look the other way? My wife is with child and she is hungry”

You smiled. You had been married to Legolas for a year now, yet it still made your heart race to hear him call you his wife. At Legolas’ words, the guard simply stepped to the side slightly and pretended to take great interest in the stonework of the wall opposite him. He was not going to go against his orders directly, but he would bend the rules slightly for his prince.

Legolas held the door to the kitchens open for you and you walked in.

The kitchens were warm, and even at this hour of the night a large fire crackled in the central pit. There, on tables sat much of the food for the feast. Your stomach churned at the sight of it all, but you knew that you could not have it.

Luckily, off to the side on a smaller table was some bread, cheese, and fruit that did not appear to be part of tomorrow’s feast.

You pulled two chairs to the table and sat down, gesturing for Legolas to join you. He sat down next to you and picked up a grape from the table.

With a half-smile, he held the grape close to your mouth. You couldn’t help but giggle as you ate it out of his fingers.

He held another one out to you, and this time you playfully nipped at his finger. He chuckled at your silliness. His laugh was a lovely sound and it caused you to laugh along with him.

“You bite my finger like a foul beast” he said, laughing even harder. You couldn’t help but giggle at him, however, you were quick to retort.

“I am with your child, my lord, you obviously do not think me too foul” you teased winking at him.

A faint blush came to his cheeks, but he only laughed more. Giggling yourself, you held a finger to his lips to tell him to be quiet. You were not supposed to be in here, and being told off for laughing loudly would not do.

You ate some of the bread and cheese and soon felt your hunger ease. This did not stop the antics of your husband, however, who held one final scrap of food away from you.

“Are you going to give it to me Legolas?” you asked him, a laugh on your lips.

“No, my love, I don’t think I will. I think I shall just keep it here” he teased.

Trying to catch him off guard, you reached for it before saying anything. It worked and you quickly had the snatched piece of bread in your hands.

“Catch me if you can” you giggled

You ran out of the door and had not taken two steps when you felt strong arms behind you. Legolas swooped you in to his arms bridal style. He looked in to your eyes with such love and admiration. There was a spark behind those cerulean irises that you could not have explained in Westron, Sindarin, or Quenya.

“Got you”

requests are open, feel free to ask for something

anonymous asked:

Hmmm, could I ask for a Dean x reader one shot where she has nightmares and wakes up in cold sweats and Dean starts to notice but she doesn't say anything then they get really bad and she confesses and Dean does what he can to help her, something fluffy please? Sorry the request was so long!xxxx

Alright, here you go, I actually really loved your request, I wrote this at 1am so I’ll admit, it’s not my best. I hope you enjoy it though.

                                      A good night’s sleep

Word count: 1,400

Warnings: Nightmares(duh), mention of death in the family

She always wakes up the same way, eyes wide-open, heartbeatracing, buried deep underneath her blanket, covered in sweat, her hands slightly shaking. Right now she’s covered in the sheets of some crappy motel, facing the wall. She barely slept at all, and those 2 hours were haunted by nightmares too. They keep getting worse and worse. She must’ve slept 5 hours tops in the last week they spent hunting. She turns around and the cold air from the room gets underneath her blanket, making her shiver. On the other side, she’s greeted by Dean looking at her from the floor, where he was sleeping, between her and Sammy. She looks at him and smiles.

“Morning dickhead” she says.

“Sleep well?” Dean asks. She just nods and Dean looks at her with an unconvinced look.

“Uh-uh” he says. “How bad was it?”

“What are you talking about?” she says trying to sound ignorant, tucking herself to warm back up. Dean puts his head in his palm and says:

“The nightmare” She says nothing “Look,” he continues “you can act dumb all you want, I’ve been down that road, I know what it looks like, you wake up all agitated, your blood’s pumping, you’re sweaty, you’re always tired, you live on coffee, and, well, in my case booze”

“Dean” she stops him “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine.” He rolls his eyes. “Come on, wake Sam up, we should hit the road” she says. Dean gives Sam a little nudge. They pack their things and get into the impala. The road back to the bunker is pretty long and at some point, she takes of her shoes and stretches on the back seat that she has all for herself. She uses Dean’s duffle-bag as a pillow. She actually manages to doze off for about 15 minutes, and as always, she wakes up the same way, in the middle of a horrifying nightmare, one that scares her more than any did ever before, and for the first time she actually jumps up, banging her head into the impala’s roof.

“Whoa, you alright there champ?” Sam asks. She rubs her head in the spot she hit it.

“Don’t worry Sammy” Dean says “She’s perfectly fine” he looks at her in the rear view mirror and she looks at him and in that moment she admits to herself that Dean sees right through her “everything’s alright” face. Still, she says

“I’m alright, just a weird dream” she says. Dean gesticulates quotation marks in the air. She puts her head back on the duffle-bag. They get to the bunker by nightfall and Sam and Dean take all the bags.

“Home sweet home” Dean says walking into the kitchen “Food sweet-“ he says opening the fridge. He sees there’s nothing inside.

“Great” he says “We need to do a supply run”

“Damn it I was supposed to remind you on the road back” she says.

“It’s alright” Dean says “I’ll go now”

“I’ll come with you” she says. Dean nods. They take the car keys and they start driving to the closest store.

“So, you ready to talk about it?” Dean asks. She’s looking at her hands, playing with her sweater. She nods. She takes in a deep breath.

“It’s usually not as bad as it’s been getting lately. I mean, I barely sleep now”

“Yeah, I noticed” he says “Is it the hunting?” he asks.

“Not really” she says “I’ve been doing that all my life, they started when dad died, at first I kept dreaming the way he died over and over, then I started dreaming new scenarios of him dying every night, and now it’s basically everyone I care about mixed in this bloody mess all the time. You have no idea how many times you died in my head Dean” he smirks.

“You’re good then, I’m not that easy to kill” she cracks a smile too.

They pull up in the parking lot, go in the store and buy everything they need, then Dean hands her the basket and says “Hold on a sec I want to get something”

“Alright” she says. He comes back with three types of tea and a large fluffy blanket. She grabs them confused and sort of amused.

“What are these for?” she asks.

“You really need some sleep” he says and he winks at her. They pay for the stuff they bought and they drive back to the bunker. They all eat together some waffles and bananas, then Sam excuses himself and goes off to sleep.

“Alright” Dean says “I have a plan”

“Oh do you now?” she asks.

“You’re sleeping with me tonight” she raises her eyebrows playfully and Dean rolls his eyes.

“Not like that you dirty-minded nerd” he throws her the blanket “Go get changed in P.J.’s and go into my room. I’ll be there in a sec.” She does as ordered, she changes into a large black t-shirt and some loose grey sweatpants and she gets her hair up into a ponytail. She grabs the blanket that smells like chemicals, a surprisingly pleasant smell, and she heads off to Dean’s room. She sits down on the bed and in a second Dean’s there too. He’s holding two mugs into his hands. He places them down on the nightstand and he starts digging through his mix-tapes. “Found it” he says.

“Dean, will you please explain”

“Look, no offence, but you look like crap. Now, I care about you, so I’ll try and help you get at least a good night’s sleep.” He puts the mix into the player and Bobby Womack’s California Dreamin’ starts playing. He signals her to scoot over and she does so. They sit with their back against the wall, and he hands her the mug of tea.

“Okay, this is the only tea I like alright, Bobby used to make this all the time when he had a bad hangover and he gave me some too. It’s amazing.”

“What is it?” she asks smelling it. It smells really good.

“It’s a mix of all kinds of stuff” she takes a sip

“This is delicious” Dean smiles, pleased. He puts his arm behind her head and he gently kisses her forehead.

“Did you make that mix tape?” she asks, putting her mug on the nightstand after she finishes it.

“Yeah, it’s my, um, my soul playlist” she giggles.

“Your soul playlist?”

“Yeah alright, they’re songs that put me into a good mood, they calm me down”

“They’re great” she says playfully kicking his arm. She then puts her head on his chest and yawns. Dean grabs the blanket they bought and he puts it on both of them, covering them all up, leaving only the faces out. HE then pulls the rest of his blankets on his bed on top of it and they warm up really fast.

“This is very pleasant” she says.

“Yeah, I guess it is”

“Are you doing this just because you pity me?”

“I don’t pity you at all. I just know what you’re going through, I want to help”

“What if you’re not gonna be able to?”

“Don’t think about that. Focus on the music. Johnny Hickman’s Lucky was playing now.

She twists on her side and wraps her hands around Dean. She closes her eyes.

“Can I play with your hair?” she asks.

“Sure” he whispers. She puts one of her hands into his hair and starts tangling her fingers through it.

“I’m not, I’m not-“ he says into her ear, since it was right near his mouth.

“What?” she asks.

“I’m not doing this only because I want to help you”

“Then why?” she asks.

“It’s because I want to help myself”

“Help yourself with what Winchester” she whispers. He lowers his face and she feels his skin brushing on hers, then his soft dry lips on hers, giving her a quick peck, nothing more, then sticking his lips back to her forehead.

“With that” he says.

“Oh” she says, not opening her eyes “Alright”

Black Mountain’s Stay Free starts playing and Dean starts humming. He doesn’t close his eyes until he feels her breathing change. He looks at her deep asleep, tucks her hair behind her ear and he stops the tape. He was smiling, happy as hell he managed to make her sleep a good night’s sleep, at least this once.

anonymous asked:

Harry's teenage son climbs into bed with him at night (not in a weird way haha) because he misses his mum

"When she gonna be back?" he asked through the still quiet of the room. 
"In a few days." Harry groaned back. 
With hopes that that’d be all, Harry had closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come soon between him and your son. 
"Don’t you ever miss her?" 
Harry’s eyes opened with slight worry, wondering where that was coming from, “[Y/S/N] is everything alright?” 
He may have been 14 years old, but he still was his dad’s little boy. And he rolled over, and saw those eyes stare back into his. 
"I just… what if something happens? What if she won’t come back?" 
"[Y/S/N], nothing is gonna happen. I’ve been away plenty of times, nothing has happened." 
"But… I just…"
There was a flash of sudden worry now in Harry’s eyes, and he hugged him close, feeling the awkwardness from his son.
"She’ll be home soon. She will. Do you want to call her?" 
And he nodded his head, as Harry turned on the lamp, and picked up his phone to dial you up. 

anonymous asked:

hoseok, shy

jung hoseok//164 w. 

Hoseok was by no means quiet. Even someone who had never had the pleasure of interacting with him could see that he was as extroverted as one could be.

But there was something, something that you’d picked up on, something others tended to overlook.

“Um..” You’re awkward, to say the least. Hoseok knew that, so he appreciated your effort to figuratively dry his tears with your outstretched hand.

“I’m alright, don’t worry.” He swipes at his red nose, smiling through watery eyes.

Propping his elbow up, he begins talking about how bummed out he is that the teacher assigned so much homework the same day he had swimming practice.

All the while, you can only stare.

“It’s okay for you to cry, Hoseok.” You say, hand on his.

The corners of his mouth droop harshly, and you can tell he’s doing his best to keep that grin on his face.

“You don’t have to always be the strong one.”

That’s how it all started.

dvmb-bass asked:

omg, i read your armin 7 minutes in heaven and, like wow!! do you think you could do one for nath (such an angel that boy *-*) thanks so much, glad that theres a blog dedicated to just drabbles, your an american hero <3

((I’m so happy you liked Armin’s! I really hope this is alright! Oh and I’m Australian ;) <3))

Alexy is grinning at you as he pushes the bottle ever so slightly towards you. “Your turn, Candy!” He says brightly, his pink eyes sparkling with boyish joy. With a small sigh you glance at Nathaniel, who is sitting beside you and then spin the bottle. At first you think you used too much force because it rotates around on the carpet like a rocket, however, when it finally comes to a stop, you almost wish it would have gone further.

Its nozzle is pointing directly at Nathaniel, who is now a prominent shade of red. For a moment the two of you stare at each other in shock, until you’re reminded of everyone else’s presence by deep laughter.

"Yea, Pres!" Castiel bellows, still snickering.

Nathaniel throws the redhead a dark look before standing up and taking a hold of your hand. You only pause for a split second longer before allowing yourself to be led towards Alexy and Armin’s basement. In Nathaniel’s haste, he accidentally forgets to slow down on the narrow stairs and you end up crashing into him half way down them.

With cat like reflex he wraps his arms around you and pushes himself into the concrete wall of the basement. “Sorry, Castiel still gets on my nerves,” he apologises quickly, his lips unintentionally brushing against your hair. Although he is now legally independent and looks different, he’s still the same boy that you’ve had feelings for since the day you transferred to Sweet Amoris.

You take a moment to enjoy the closeness of your bodies before you glance up to check the door closed behind you. Relief washes through you when you see that it did and so does a sudden boldness, which is immediately heightened by the realisation that Nathaniel still hasn’t let go of you even though the danger has long passed. “Nathaniel,” you whisper, pulling your head back from his chest slightly.

From your new position, you glance up into Nathaniel’s golden eyes. You smile girlishly at the almost panicked expression on his face before close your eyes and lean up and kiss him. His reaction is surprising. In an instant he tightens his grip around your waist and kisses you with an incredible amount of passion.

Still perched precariously on the stairs, the two of you are lost in the lust that is suddenly so clear between you. His hands never move from their position, but his lips move from your lips to your cheeks, momentarily trail down your neck, and then capture your lips again just as the door above you swings open to reveal your gaping cohort.

You’re too amused by the completely shocked expression on Castiel’s face to even feel embarrassed as you place another quick kiss on Nathaniel’s lips, just for show.

Anonymous Asked:

Can you make a smut scenario with Jimin? If you can, can you make it like romantic with a little sm?

I’m actually combining this with another of my requests since it’s just the same ^^

So I hope you enjoy <3



“What’s the safe word?”

“Banana” You said as your boyfriend crawled closer to you on the bed.

“Alright, here we go” Jimin said laying the silk fabric over your eyes and tying it behind your head, effectively cutting off your vision.

Jimin sat back, eyeing you up and down. You were stripped of everything but your panties. Biting his lip, he rose from the bed and began to undress himself. His pants fell to the floor with quiet thump, his shirt quickly following.

“Lay on your stomach” He demanded. Doing as you were told, you heard Jimin walk a few steps before opening your dresser drawer and rummaging around before closing it.

You jumped slightly as you felt a cold metal surrounding one of your wrists, followed with a clicking sound as the handcuff was tightened. Jimin threaded the short chain through the headboard of the bed before taking your other wrist and cuffing it as well. Your muscles tensed at the stretch, but your senses were only heightened with your lack of vision and mobility.

Biting his lip, Jimin hovered over your form and placed a chaste kiss to the base of your neck before his weight lifted off the bed completely. He opened the bedside table, smirking when his hand wrapped around what he was looking for.

Returning to the bed, Jimin sat behind your crouched form. Chuckling to himself, he pushed your panties down your thighs before taking them off completely.

“You’re already wet and I haven’t even touched you” He teased.

“Shut up” You immediately regretted speaking up as a resounding smack echoed the room.

“Don’t be disrespectful” Jimin said while taking in your reddened behind.

“Now, say you’re sorry” He said before giving your cheek another hard smack.

“Ah! I’m sorry!” You whimpered out.

“Good girl, you’re going to like this” Jimin smoothed his palm over your stinging flesh. You heard the vibrator in Jimin’s hand hum as he switched it on. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, he slid the tip along the back of your thigh. Your skin broke into goose bumps as you felt the vibrations.

Just as the vibrator was about to touch you in the very place you wanted it most, Jimin switched to your other thigh, ignoring your whine of protest. Before you knew it, the vibrations completely vanished from your skin.

“Jiminie, please” You pushed your backside towards him. Jimin groaned at how eager you were and decided to give you a little mercy and placed the vibrator against your clit.

You let out a shriek of surprise as you felt the sudden pressure, throwing your head back as you let out a long moan.

“Shit…” Jimin mumbled as he watched your hips grind and stutter against the vibrator, wanting more friction. His erection was throbbing within the confinements of his boxers.

Your hands fisted as your breath shortened and your moans became higher and more desperate, you tugged on the handcuffs as pleasure ran through your veins. You were so close. Seeing this, Jimin pulled the vibrator away from your throbbing clit. A groan of disappointment left our lips.

“God dammit Jimin!” You felt the sting of another slap to your ass.

“I told you not to be disrespectful. Now then…” Jimin slid underneath you, resting just below your dripping heat. Licking his lips, he dived in. His arms curled around your thighs, his hands squeezing each of your ass cheeks, as he pulled you down to his mouth.

His tongue slithered out and swiped over your outer lips, before incasing your clit between his lips, giving it a hard suck. He massaged your cheeks in his hands and gave your right cheek a hard smack, making a gasp escape you.

You ground yourself onto Jimin’s face as his tongue flitted around your slit. Your juices were nearly pouring from you, Jimin drinking them like they were the sweetest nectar.

Jimin’s finger found its way inside of you, pumping in and out at an obscene rate, another soon followed and then another. Three fingers stretching and filling you as Jimin flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit.

The pleasure became too much, and soon your climax took over. White flooded your vision as Jimin lapped up your juices. He slipped out from underneath your and wiped his glistening lips with the back of his hand.

“I can’t take this anymore” He stood from the bed and quickly tore his boxers from his body. Placing himself behind you once more, positioning his shaft at your still throbbing core. He pushed in, his length filling and stretching you inch by delicious inch.

Leaning back, he watched as he disappeared completely inside of you. He grabbed onto your hips before pulling almost all the way out, then snapped his hips forward.

‘Fuck! Jimin” You moaned out.

“That’s it baby girl, say my name” Jimin began a fast and rough pace. Thrusting in and out of your tight heat as his head fell back in pleasure.

His grip on your hips tightened as he began to slam into your harder, his sac occasionally hitting your clit, causing jolts of pleasure to run through your body. The head of his cock continuously rubbing against that special bundle of nerves each time.

Your moans and Jimin’s groans echoed the room so loudly that the neighbors could probably hear but you couldn’t care less as your boyfriend was fucking you into next week. Your legs began to shake as you felt your end near. Your body thrummed with pleasure as Jimin continued to pound into you.

Jimin leaned forward, his sweaty chest resting on your equally slick back. He began to make quick circles on your clit, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Come on baby, come for me” He panted into your ear.

“Jimin!” You moaned out as your orgasm shook your form, heat spreading throughout your entire body. Jimin groaned as he felt your walls tighten around him, his climax being pulled from of him, as his hot seed filled you.

Thrusting until he was spent, Jimin gently pulled out of your shaking form, falling beside you. He quickly undid the handcuffs and ripped the blindfold from you before gathering you into his arms, placing a kiss to your forehead.

You blinked at the sudden light hitting your eyes. As you vision adjusted, you looked up at Jimin and gave him a smile.

“That was pretty amazing” He commented.

“Very, but next time we’re handcuffing you to the bed” You stated before burring your head into his chest.

“I look forward to it” He said with a cheeky grin on his face.

Well, there is it ^^

I’m so sorry it took so long! <3

I hope you liked it ;D

Plan B

Hi, fitzyandsimms! I’m your Fitzsimmons secret valentine! Here’s your fic! I hope you love it, sugar!

Prompt: Fitz and Simmons being absolutely adorable together on either their first valentine’s day together

"Can I open my eyes now?" Jemma asked playfully, allowing her boyfriend to lead her by the hands to whatever surprise he had planned for her. She’d let him guide her down countless hallways, and now she was filled with anticipation. There weren’t many pleasant surprises on this base, so she looked forward to what little things she could.

"No!" he cried. "Keep ‘em shut!"

"Alright, alright…" she muttered. Jemma switched directions when she felt him tug her arms. How many turns had they taken? She swore, if they turned out to just be in the garage when she opened her eyes, and Fitz has just taken her on a detour to throw her off, she would give a fit.

She could feel Fitz slow his steps. “There,” he concluded. “Open your eyes.”

Jemma grinned, and slowly opened her eyes to see what he did. When she was able to take in the sight, she couldn’t help but let out a small gasp.

Keep reading

nightloner227 asked:

Your phanarts make me feel the pheels all the time, dear ;___; <3 I LOVE YOU AND PLEASE NEVER STOP MAKING THOSE MASTERPIECES ALRIGHT ;____;

(つД`)ノjeez thankyou so muchhh! i hope to bring you moar pheels so keep your eyes pheeld- that was rly bad im sry

Green and Blue

I never grew these affections
From your kisses
Or passion
I never grew these affections
From your pristine
Sense of fashion

I just fall over in awe
From your intense eyes
Green and Blue
I never thought I’d have to leave them
Thought I’d have to leave you

I didn’t fall in the love with the idea
That we’d adventure
Or dine
I fell in love with the idea
Of your hand in mine

Through that I was invincible
Oh my emotions couldn’t be altered
But yet again
It seems
I’ve managed to falter

I was hoping we’d be alright
That things would work for me
This time around
But now we’ve parted
Destined for failure
Now I’ll forever miss your sound

The sound of your voice
When you speak with love
Love of animals
Or the space above

The sound of your chuckle
At the silliest jokes
That’d make the butterflies
In my stomach
Give a few pokes

The only thing I hope for
Is that with her
You remain happy
As cliché as that sounds
No matter how fucking sappy

Because your happiness
Is worth more to me
Than a bundle of gold
Worth more than all the stars
Or all the shitty words I’ve told

I’m just sorry for this
For everything that I’ve caused
All it did
In the end
Was put true happiness
On pause

anonymous asked:

Alright, so you refuse to answer the question or engage in conversation. Fine. I sincerely hope that whatever festering pain within you that causes this ugliness is somehow eased and you can use your passion to make good. Eye for an eye mentality is unhealthy and will manifest itself in terrible ways throughout your life. I say that without an ounce of vitriol. I wish you well, and I hope that all these people who have been "given life" from your hatred find happiness also.

why would i engage in conversation with an anon omg what kind of desperate teas…….

Advice From A Lovely/Terrible Mentor

"Pretty girls never light their own cigarette." 

"We’re going out tonight, you’re outfit should say, ‘I’m really freaky in bed, but you’ll never find that out firsthand’"

"When you drink with me, you don’t order anything ‘Vodka and’. We drink dark liquors and beer."

"Don’t break eye contact, don’t smile and NEVER wear sunglasses if you want to hitch a ride. Also you may be mistaken for a prostitute."

"Your eyebrows are weapons of mass destruction, use them."

Advice given to my by one of my favorite people and probably one of the worst influences I’ve met to date. Goddamn I miss that girl. Hope you’re doing alright out their Millie, wherever the hell you are. 

armazem-das-series asked:

Hey, once you get this you have to post 5 things you like about yourself. Then, send this to 10 of your favorite followers!

Ooh exciting I’ve never got one of these
I’m really touched I’m one of your favs aw

1. I love my hair, it’s v v thick and long and shiny
2. I like that I can do makeup fairly well, so I can make my eyes look cool yay
3. Carrying on with the theme of eyes, I am quite fond of mine, they’re quite a nice icy blue colour, my face is alright I hope, I have smashing eyebrows and a tiny button nose
4. I like that I’m intelligent/have a good memory, comes in v handy for exams
5. I like to think I’m quite a gentle person that likes to help and give hugs
I don’t know how I’m gna pick 10 but ok


     Such as strangers were, she did not know this being, but as had seemed to become fairly normal in Hive City, she was not unfamiliar with everyone she encountered.  Whether though spotting a figure from the corner of her eye or hearing her acquaintances recount stories, those who dwelled in the Hive were becoming less unknown with each passing day.

    “You know my children, yes? Yet I do not believe we have met. I am Robin of House Ylisse.” Even if titles and ranks meant little here, it was habitual and natural to mention. 

scarywild replied to your post:scarywild replied to your post “I am on a break in…

heres a direct link to the img 40.media.tumblr.com/a39… ii dont think the img causes eye strain or vertigo? but its bright and kinda blurry since its a phone pic

oh ok! thatnk u! it just looks like a normal pic to me O: hope everyone is alright„, i sometimes see things as like five colors at once and could not name the color someting was because my eyes are bad and my sensory perception is bad so i mean i’m guessing its just something like that is just difference in perception between people (like b/c the eye is capable of a range of perception which my eyes are bad so i experience all the range at once?? its hard to explain) based on light or how dialated ur eyes are or how tired u r which affects perception, so i hope everyone is ok!!!!!