but something touched me deep inside

The Only Exception


Requested: no but a little angst never hurt anyone. also shoutout to Emily for being awesome. 

Word count: 3,021

Originally posted by fearless-man

Shawn was the kind of guy that on the outside seemed like such an innocent boy, but those who actually knew him, knew that was the biggest fake facade you could ever come across. 

I couldn’t count how many girls he had slept with only using my ten fingers. I couldn’t keep up with the names of the girls that had walked out of our front door after a night out and I surely couldn’t keep track on how many girls, he snuck in late at night when he thought I was already sleeping. 

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Frozen Water Vapor (M)

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Summary: The first snowfall of winter. The flurries comfort you in the midst of heartache. You love Chanyeol and Baekhyun, but they’re so happy in their newfound relationship. Baekhyun is so happy with Chanyeol, but he misses your touch on his skin. You would never think of getting in the middle of them, not two of your closest friends. Baekhyun thinks otherwise. (Baekhyun x Reader x Chanyeol)

Polyamory, Rough Sex, Cheating

Word Count: 2,427

Written by: Smutty Jaefairy

A/N: This is a personal fantasy of mines that I formatted into a reader story. I’m such a wet noodle for Baekhyun, I’m sorry I’m like this.

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hold me tight | supercorp

Somewhere around the seventh time Kara saves Lena’s life, she decides it’s time to tell her. They’re flying over the reservoir, the echoes of Lena’s screams to let her go playing over and over again in her mind.

The half of the plane she’s still holding is starting to slip, and Kara lifts Lena up higher, until they’re at about the same height. “You need to climb on my back,” she tells her. “Otherwise the plane is going to slip. Do you think you can do that?”

Lena nods, but her hands are still shaking. She reaches one hand out to grab onto Kara’s cape, and Kara doesn’t let go until both Lena’s arms are tightly wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hook your legs around my waist,” Kara says, ignoring the way she can feel Lena’s heart beating through her chest. It’s the not the moment to overthink physical contact, and Lena immediately does as she’s asked. Kara loosens her grip. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

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BTS Reaction: You smacking their booty

Request: Bts reaction to you smacking da booty

lol I had fun writing this one


He’d probably be cooking when all of a sudden you gave his booty a smack. He’d very much laugh at you. And blush a deep shade of red. Probably wouldn’t get revenge right away but would defiantly not forget this. Would take your act playfully.

“Get your booty back over here”


Would just kinda stare at you like “Why” when you gave that booty a smack. If you were giggling a lot he’d probably hug you and rather than smacking your booty back, would just lay his hands and your butt (And MAYBE give it a squeeze oops)  Deep down inside he finds it more cute than anything else. 


Rap Monster/Namjoon:

1000/10 takes it as an excuse to smack yours right back. He’d defiantly jump when you first lay hands on the booty, but his surprised expression would soon turn into a smirk. He loves when you’re playful but him (yoongi and Hoseok too tbh) would find it less amusing if they were super focused on something.

“Since you touched my butt first, doing it back doesn’t make me a perv right?”


Would have a fit of giggles along with you. He would grab your hips and back hug you tightly whilst still giggling. He didn’t understand how one person could be so adorable. Would tease you a little like “Oh you like my butt that much, huh?” The rest of the night would be you two smacking each others booties.

“My adorable princess I love you”


Would smirk at you and just stand there. After you finish your giggles you’d look at him confused as to why he was just standing there. He’d catch you by surprise and just suddenly smack yours back. “Hm babe I think my butt is bigger” You’d probably smack him lolll but you know he’s just teasing

“Its fun to tease you”


Would start giggling RIGHT AWAY. Y'all would be laughing and chasing each other trying to see who can smack who’s butt the most. Expect cuddles afterwards. He’s really happy to be in a playful mood with you. With all the stress from being an idol, being playful with you just really makes him happy.

“I love your playful side cutie”


Freezes up so it gives you a chance to run. But o h  b o y he’s going to get revenge. Like Namjoon, low-key just sees it as an excuse to touch your butt without seeming like a perv. Now if yall are in the beginning stage of your relationship, he’d be too afraid to touch your butt back. He doesn’t wanna show his butt-worshiping self till later..

“Baby why you gotta do this to me.”


I’m looking at something that’s going to destroy me

because somehow you’ve become my center
somehow you’ve become my north star
and I can’t help but gravitate straight to you

and darling, if I knew how deep I’d fall
I wouldn’t have let you bury inside my heart
because from the moment our hands first touched
my heartbeat sounded like your name

—  unfinished stories #1491 by Abby S


*based on the song from Beauty and the Beast

There’s something sweet, and almost kind
But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined
And now he’s dear, and so unsure
I wonder why I didn’t see it there before

Bucky Barnes was the most annoying person on the planet. Was being the operative word.

When he arrived at the Avengers Tower, he had been cold and mean and just plain rude. In the beginning, you let it slide without saying anything. He had been through way more than anyone you had known. Being brainwashed and used as a weapon could do the worst to even the best people.

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In the Deep End-Chapter 2

This is an A/B/O AU Collaboration between @kittenofdoomage and @winchesterprincessbride featuring Alpha! Sam and Omega! Reader

Part 1          Add Yourself To Taglist HERE

Sam still remembered the way you smelled that night.

It was warm, unseasonably so for October, but neither of you really cared as you walked through town hand in hand. The movie had been boring, not that you could remember the plot - you’d been too focused on Sam’s lips as they moved across yours, the darkness of the back row providing him with ample opportunity to slide his fingers under your pleated skirt.

Now, he was smiling, almost like he could whistle. He’s your Alpha, and you’d always thank your idiotic friends for a silly dare that had made this happen.

“Hey,” you chirped, pointing to your driveway. “My parents are out.”

“It is Friday,” Sam replied, tugging you into his side, pressing his nose into your hair and scenting you. You giggled, ducking underneath him. “God, you smell so sweet. Like cotton candy at the carnival.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have accepted those beers from Zack,” you teased. “And my mom and Vincent aren’t home.” His eyebrows raised, and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Think with your upstairs brain, Sam, and not your knot. I know I’m coming into heat but…”

He nodded, interrupting you. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just… we spent six months wondering if you would and now you have and -” His nose bumped yours as he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re my Omega. I know it.”

Humming happily, you pushed up onto tiptoes, kissing him softly. “Well, then you’ll be glad to know that my mom and her boytoy have gone out of town. For the weekend.”

Sam drew back, lust burning deep in his colorful eyes. “You’re saying…”

“I wanna be yours, Alpha,” you whispered. “Want to belong to you, to stay with you. We can get away from our families. Start somewhere new…”

“We’re only eighteen,” Sam replied, cupping your cheek. “How would we… I mean -”

You shrugged, uncaring of the consequences. “We’ll manage. As long as we have each other.” God, it was so romantic the way you said it, and Sam found himself falling into the moment, nodding slowly as he leaned in towards you. The kiss was slow and gentle, both of you taking the time to savor the other, before Sam’s hands were tugging you back towards the house.

There was a spring in your step as you locked the front door, dashing through into the kitchen and finding the usual post-it note with thirty dollars for food, and an announcement that your mom and Vincent were off to Atlantic City for the weekend, and not to burn the house down.

Because you were the family member that would end up doing that, of course.

“They’re definitely gone?” Sam asked, coming up behind you and putting his hands on your hips. You nodded, holding up the cash. A wicked smile spread over his face. “We’ll order pizza later. For now -” He stopped, scooping you up to wrap your legs around his waist, and the thirty bucks drifted to the floor as you shrieked and clung to your Alpha. “I want my Omega.”

“Yes, Sam,” you hissed, letting your head fall back as he carried you through the house and up the stairs, not stopping until he kicked your door shut with his booted foot. He let you down then, smiling as you stared up at him with adoration on your face. “I love you,” you said, quietly.

Sam didn’t respond for a moment, looking back at you, before raising a hand and cupping your jaw, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, dragging it downwards for a split second. “I love you too, Y/N.”

Among a tangle of lips and hands, both of you undressed each other, the need to take it slow outweighed by the urgency you felt to be close to one another. Sam was gentle as he guided you to the bed, laying you down to pull your skirt down and toss it to one side.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he murmured, placing a kiss just below your navel, and you smiled, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “Want you so bad, ‘mega.”

“I know,” you whispered, tugging on his locks to urge him further up your body, desperate to kiss him again, but he only smirked at you. “Sam…”

He shook his head slightly, dropping his head to bury his nose in the soaked cotton of your panties. “So close to being in heat…” he groaned, nuzzling at you, stroking his tongue over the damp fabric. “Taste so good.” You squeaked as he pulled your panties down, wasting no time in returning his face to the juncture of your thighs, stroking his tongue over your swollen folds. “Thought you tasted good before,” he muttered, looking up at you with wickedly dark eyes. “But this is a whole ‘nother level.”

The plea for him to touch you died on your lips as Sam licked you again, dragging the tip of his tongue from your soaked entrance to your clit, making your body jerk in response. He repeated the action a few more times before he kept his mouth at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Gonna open you up for me, baby,” he purred, running his tongue over your clit as he slid one finger deep inside you. “Want you nice and wet for my cock.”

His words made something curl in your belly, and unbearable arousal swept through you, bringing with it a tightening sensation in your chest. Your scent blossomed through the room, and Sam practically growled, his hips rutting against the bed. “Sam!” Your cry preceded your orgasm, slick gushing over his fingers, and the Alpha groaned loudly.

“That’s it, ‘mega,” he urged, sliding another finger into you, curling them just right to make you scream again. “God, want you so bad.”

“Then have me,” you whimpered, wiggling against him. “Want your knot, Alpha. Make me yours.”

An animalistic sound tore itself from his throat as he drew back from you, pausing to lick his fingers clean of your essence. “Don’t tease me,” he warned, and you smiled, squirming away from him to roll onto your belly, presenting yourself to him, and Sam made a funny noise, pushing his pants down.

His weight made the bed dip, and you dropped your head as you felt him behind you, your entire body clenching in anticipation of having his thick cock inside you. You’d hit every base except this one, wanting to wait until you presented, despite knowing you were his.

Sam was slow to move, running his hands over your ass as he watched your pussy twitch. He rubbed the thick tip of his Alpha cock against you, and you moaned in response, pushing backward onto him, making him smile. “Easy, Omega,” he chastised, and you pouted, despite him not being able to see you.

The first push of his length into you was enough to make your breath catch and your eyes cross. Sam’s entire body shook with the effort of not slamming into you, trying to take it slowly as he watched your cunt suck him in, like you were made for him. The point of discomfort came just as his hips were flush with yours, and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Feel so good,” he grunted, holding himself deep inside you. “Fuck, I feel like I wanna cum already.”

You nodded, unable to form words as he started to move, drawing all the way back before easing back in. His fingers were clinging to your hips, probably leave bruises with how tightly he held you, but you didn’t care - you wanted the reminders tomorrow, and more besides. “Sam… I’m… I can’t…”

“I know,” Sam replied, even though you weren’t sure what you were actually going to say. All you could think was that you couldn’t, but you didn’t know what you couldn’t… which made no sense. “I got you, Omega.”

His mouth was hot on your neck as he leaned over you, using the weight of his body to fuck you harder, and you could feel the twisting, intense churning in your belly, signaling your climax. Your walls clamped down on him, and Sam gave a strangled moan, the thick ring of muscle at the base of his cock catching on your pussy.

“I can’t hold it,” he growled, hips working fast and hard into you. You nodded, arching your back, accepting more of him, feeling the tip of his cock slam into your cervix, and his knot swelled. With one hard thrust, you were screaming out your pleasure, and Sam was locked inside you, pumping load after load of cum into your welcoming heat.

Neither of you spoke for the longest time, both sweating heavily, panting, Sam’s arms clinging to you as he peppered reverent kisses along your back. You couldn’t help the sated smile on your face, nor could you stop the whine of disappointment when he finally pulled free, slumping to your side. It was second nature to drag you into his arms, and you settled there happily, inhaling his scent deeply.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I promise you, we’re gonna figure this out.”

You nodded, unable to keep your eyes from falling shut.

When you opened them, Sam was gone, and the emptiness of his promise split your heart in two.


“She’s twelve?”

The question was almost deafening in the small office and you feel the butterflies in your belly turn into a tornado. You aren’t even sure why you’d said anything and deflection is looking like your best defense.

“Yeah, she is,” you say, standing from the desk. "You said you wanted to see a couple of the victims?”

Dean narrows his eyes, glancing at Sam, clearly putting two and two together where his brother was already on the final solution. “Wait… are you…”

The phone rings, making you jump and you quickly grab it, answering to whoever has just saved you from the awkward situation from hell. “Hello?” A frown covers your face; the woman on the other end is from the junior high and she’s trying to confirm that you’re Emily’s mom. “Yeah, this is her. Is something wrong?”

“Dude, she’s got your eyes,” Dean hisses, holding out one of the photos to Sam. The younger Winchester doesn’t seem like he wants to look - he seems shellshocked and can’t take his eyes off of you. You make brief eye contact as he recognizes the worry on your face, and then you turn your back to him.

“What do you mean, she didn’t show up to fifth period?” you bark into the phone.  “How can you not know where she is? Let me try her cell.”

You reach into your desk and pull out a cell phone, quickly dialing a number.  It goes straight to voicemail, and you throw it on your desk with a muffled curse. “Do you think she skipped school? I’m going to run home and see if she went there then I’ll be over.” Slamming down the phone, you turn back to face Sam and Dean.

“Y/N….” Sam begins, but you hold up a hand to stop him.

“I can’t do this right now, Sam.  I’m sorry.”  Walking over to your door, you stick your head out and call for your assistant.  “Christopher,  these agents are from the FBI.  They need to see the two bodies from those animal attacks.  Give them anything they need. I have to leave for a bit. Call me on my cell if you need me.”

As soon as Christopher leaves Dean turns to you.  “Thanks a lot, Y/N.  This will really help our case.”

“I have no idea why you are pretending to be FBI agents, but I DO watch the news, you know.  I saw when you made the FBI’s most wanted list for your little murder spree, and I saw when you supposedly died.  The only reason I’m not calling the cops right now is that the Sam I knew would never hurt anyone.” You looked him in the eye then, and you saw a lifetime’s worth of pain and sorrow in those beautiful eyes of his.

“Is she……” Sam sucks in a breath, and his eyes close for a split second as he starts to ask the question you’ve been dreading since he walked into your office, “….is she mine, Omega?”  Sam asks you quietly.

You close your eyes at the sound of the familiar name on his lips, but don’t respond. With a flick of your head, you turn your back on the question, marching out of the door and speaking over your shoulder in a cold tone.  “I have to go.  I trust you both will be gone by the time I get back.”


“Come on, man! Focus! We have a job to do here!” Dean barks at his brother through clenched teeth as they enter autopsy room #1.  Christopher has pulled the correct bodies out of the cold chambers for their review. Dean flips through the first file, frowning.

“Jane Lindencamp, 13. Never came home from school on Tuesday.  Reported missing by her mother.  Large, round exit wound on the back of her head.  Body completely drained of spinal fluid.”

Sam turns the victim’s head and sees the large hole. “That’s weird.  What about the second vic?”

Dean flips through the second file. “Timothy Crawford, 12. Mother went to pick him up after band practice.  He never showed.  Same exit wound, the body also drained of spinal fluid.”

“So both of them were last seen at school?” Sam suddenly asks.

“Yeah, so?” Dean questions.

“What school did they go to?”

Dean flips rapidly through the files. “Parkland Middle School. Wait a minute! Didn’t Y/N say on the phone her daughter was missing from school? And isn’t she around the same age?”

Sam stares at his brother for a moment, just long enough for him to put the pieces together in his head before he takes off down the hall at a full sprint.  Dean drops the files and tears off after him. “Sam! Wait!”

Dean catches up to Sam as he reaches the Impala.  Damn Sammy’s long legs! “We need to get to the school now, Dean! Whatever killed those two kids probably has Y/N’s daughter!” Sam snaps as Dean slams the car into drive and peels out of the parking lot.


“Emily? Emily, are you here?”  You yelled as you ran through the house.  Flinging open her bedroom door, you saw it was empty.  She hadn’t come home.  Tears of frustration clouded your vision.   You had almost hoped she had skipped school.  It was a much better option than the alternative.  Racing down the stairs, you jumped into your car and headed for the middle school.

Pulling into the visitor’s lot, you parked next to a large black muscle car you were sure you’d seen somewhere before.  The memory tugged at your subconscious, but you couldn’t quite get to it.  Reaching out, you ran your hand over the shiny black hood, and an image of a teenage Sam getting in after school popped into your head.

You entered the reception area of the office, and Sally Perkins, who was on her third divorce and was eternally on the prowl, motioned you over. “I’ll let Principal Montgomery know you’re here, Y/N, but he’s a little tied up at the moment.”  She waved you in closer and said in a hushed voice.  “Two FBI agents are here about the kids that died.  Who knew the government made them so good looking and tall?”

Sam and Dean, it had to be.  They were at your daughter’s school.  Why?

@hexparker @badsongwinchester @potterhead1265 @purgatoan @an-old-vw-bug @nyfistwarrior @unidentified-failing-object @fightmenegan @graceavidan@wonderless-screwup @stories-aesthetics @superkaz-2y5@typicalfanlife @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid@rachelbeus @tacosareverygood@endlesslytimeless @crumbssss@typicalweirdbookworm @surfin-the-sun@f-yeahfandoms @icantthinkofaname-oops @85natalie @sugarprincess3 @peaceloveancolor @mandylove1000@riversong-sam @nekodemon73@tally21112 @shuba-bloop @d4rzill4 @spookypym @sbethell89@ihavesympathyforthedevil   @skybinx-blog @percywinchester27 @a-sea-of-fandoms @dorky-and-i-know-it @pinknerdpanda  @atc74 @jayankles  @notnaturalanahi @midnightjazzmine @moonlitskinwalker @we-are-band-sexuals @winchestergirl-love @gecko9596 @ronnie248-blog @essie1876 @bohowitch @just-another-busy-fangirl @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion @keelzy2 @disneymarina @kittenofdoomage @mrswhozeewhatsis @oriona75 @frankiea1998 @akshi8278 @stylinson531 @valynsia @dr-dean @theoutlinez  @imweirdandobsessed @growningupgeek    @luciisthebest  @laurenisnot @maddieburcham1  @canadianjelly @muliermalefici @brewsthespirit-blog @ilsawasanacrobat @nanie5 @weasleywinchester-blog @samisimportant @fatalcrossbow  @violetsamalamb @letmusicguideu @grantsgorgeousgirl @faegal04 @feelmyroarrrr @kay18115@milkymilky-cocopuff @mikimausiii @the-greatest-temptation @superpanicromancesummer @wh1sp3r1ng-impala  @potterhead1265

No Good Part 2 (Negan x Female)


Summary: She tries to kick the habit, but Negan’s not a drug she can walk away from so easily. 

Characters: Negan x Female

Word Count: 3,441

Warnings: Smut, Angst, use of a belt, alcohol, underage drinking, slight dub-con, breath play, swearing, NSFW 

Author’s Note: I honestly didn’t think you guys would love Part 1 so much, but you did, so here’s a Part 2. I had some lovely people recommend some ideas, but I ended up coming up with this crazy sequel. I will probably write a Part 3 and then end this series. I don’t really like this much angst, but I hope I still did a good job with this newest addition. Let me know! I love hearing what you guys think.

Please let me know what you thought! This fic has no beta reader, so I am very sorry for any errors you encounter. You can always message me and tell me where I fucked up. Don’t be shy. I won’t hate you.

Originally posted by negansslowlyburn

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Nice Fireworks, Minho

CL made this awesome moodboard based on my smutty story, and we’re not even one bit sorry. Here you go… Merry Christmas and a Smutty New Year. 

Word count: 2254
Genre: Smut
Warnings: the usual. Don’t read if you’re a minor.

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“No,” Leonard tells Jim. Short and sweet, and that’s how he ends the conversation. Jim isn’t done yet, though. Bones is working in his office, probably filling in all that paperwork he has to do. Jim sits down on his desk, taking his PADD away. “Please, Bones. This is Sam we’re talking about.” “You want to go to your brother’s wedding and lie about a relationship? That’s horrible,” Bones says, “you’re a horrible person.” “Please,” Jim repeats, “my brother is always better at relationship stuff. I want to one-up him this time.” “You want to one-up him on his wedding. Again, you’re a horrible person, I don’t know why we’re friends. And we’re definitely not fake dating.” “I’ll give you a week extra off. You can skip all the pre-departure preliminaries.” Bones takes a deep breath, and he clenches his jaws in the way he does when he’s annoyed; something Jim finds both infuriating and incredibly attractive. “Fine,” Bones finally says, “I’ll be your dumb boyfriend.”

Bones looks so good; a dark blue suit and a black tie; Starfleet insignia pinned to his chest. Jim reaches out to touch it, grinning when the other rolls his eyes. "Can we go inside or what?” Bones asks, nodding towards the doors to the reception hall, and Jim nods. “Can you at least try and pretend to be happy to be with me?” Jim asks, “I really need tonight to work.” “Did I mention you’re a terrible person?" “All the time,” Jim says, and Bones huffs. “Okay, let’s go inside.”

It’s like the flip of a switch the moment they get inside. Bones’ arm is around Jim’s waist and he’s smiling. He’s greeting Jim’s family members and he’s laughing at bad jokes and, surprisingly, he doesn’t drink a lot. Jim’s surprised, pleasantly so, at this stranger on his arm. "James!” Winona said, cupping Jim’s cheeks and kissing his forehead like she always does. “Mom,” Jim said, catching Leonard smirking from the corner of his eyes. “Mom,” Jim continues, “this is-” “I know who this is,” his mother says, “I knew the two of you would eventually get together. You should’ve told me sooner, though.” “You… what?” Jim asks. “Well, obviously the two of you are dating. You’ve been “roommates” since the Academy,” she says, and Leonard smiles. “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell your mother about us, Jim, oh my God,” he says, and Jim feels terribly lost. 

Leonard tells Jim’s family about their incredibly romantic dates they went on, made up out of thin air. He kisses Jim’s cheek before he leaves to grab another drink. He’s constantly reaching out for Jim’s hand, or his arm, or his waist, anything. And he doesn’t even hesitate when Jim pulls him to the dance floor.  “What is all this?” Jim asks, sliding his arms around Bones’ shoulders, “I’ve never seen this side of you.” “Well, you know, countless years pretending to like my in-laws, I can do this,” Bones says, and Jim laughs. “What about that date we were describing? Stargazing at the Golden Gate Bridge? What secret romantic is hiding inside that grumpy exterior?” “Nothing secret about it, you literally call me Mr. Sensitive all the time,” Bones points out, and Jim nods. “That’s fair,” Jim says, and he smiles fondly at the other. Being this close to Bones, he finds himself thinking about kissing him. But they haven’t yet, other than cheeks, and this is different. Jim catches himself having feelings, and Bones looks so good. The other pulls away before Jim can do anything regrettable and impulsive, though, and with a conflicted mind, Jim watches him leave.

“Hey,” Sam says as he approaches Jim, and Jim smiles. “If it isn’t the groom. Congratulations,” he says, patting Sam’s shoulder, and then he pulls him into a quick hug. “You too,” Sam says, and Jim raises an eyebrow. “Huh?” “You and your doctor,” Sam says, “I gotta admit, I thought you were going to get an escort just to get back at me for being better at relationships than you.” “What? I would never do that,” Jim says, grinning stupidly. “I can tell. You look more in love with Leonard than I’m with my wife, and her and I are a for-life deal.” “Ha, yeah,” Jim says, and then: “wait, what?” "I see the looks you two give each other,” Sam says, nudging Jim’s shoulder, “that’s how you know it’s for real.” Jim glances in Bones’ direction, who’s speaking with Jim’s mother, and when he catches Jim looking, he smiles lightly before turning back to the conversation with Winona. 

Jim promises he’s going to help clean up afterwards. He walks Bones outside, only letting go of his hand once they were out of sight from most family members. “Thank you for this,” Jim says quietly, and Bones shrugs. “It’s okay, I had fun,” he says, “you know that if you’re going to clean up, I can help.” “You’ve helped enough,” Jim replies. He hesitates, and then adds: “You’re really good at pretending.” “Huh?” “You said you did this all the time, pretending to like your in-laws. It’s really convincing. Even had me fooled,” Jim explains, running a hand through his hair. “It helps that it’s not all pretend,” Bones replies, and Jim frowns. He studies the look in Bones’ eyes, but he detects no annoyance or anger. No lies; instead, he smiles, possibly slightly intoxicated, and so Jim smiles, too. “Maybe we don’t have to play pretend,” Jim says, “we could just actually date.” Bones laughs, and Jim feels the doctor’s hands on his shoulders. “If this was your elaborate plan to get me to date you, you should know, it’s ridiculous, and complicated. But, I guess, it did work,” he says, and Jim grins. He reaches out, pulling Bones in closer, and he kisses him. Really kisses him, not just on his cheek.

“Jim,” Jim’s mother says, so suddenly that it startles Jim, and he pulls away from Bones. “Jim,” she repeats with a sigh, though it’s clear she’s hiding a smile, “are you going to come inside to help or are you going to keep making out with McCoy over here?” “I’m coming,” Jim says. “I’ll help,” Bones offers. “Mom, I’m dating this guy,” Jim announces as he walks inside next to her, and Winona laughs. “I know, Jim, you couldn’t shut up about it all day.”

To Binge

{{ Alright, here is the long awaited short fan fiction I wanted to write for fuckyeah2doc . A sweet nonny came up with the idea! Murdoc and 2D, I hope you two enjoy this!!}}

With the slow paced breathing, the thin window pane began to cover itself with a growing thick mist. Tiny pits and pats proceeded after one another each second; various sized blobs of clear liquid raced each other down the outer pane of the misted glass.

It was a slow Monday morning. Everything was in slow motion. Life was taking it’s time.

A dark grey cloud that hung over the city had been lurking around for a few days already. The streets were deserted. The roads were abandoned.

A smile slowly spread across his lips. He guided his long bony finger over the misted pane, swirling it around to create an incomprehensible picture. Despite the loneliness and silence, he felt at peace with his mind and body.

As fast as the rain poured down was as fast as the sudden bang that disturbed all contentment in the room.  


The bluenette nearly fell over, forgetting that it wasn’t as quiet as he had imagined.

“Stop your bloody day dreamin’!” Murdoc’s rotting face was a sore sight for healthy eyes. Luckily 2D didn’t have healthy eyes.

The lanky body hauled himself away from his window to look at the older, shorter man.

“Wot? Did I do somefink?” He asked, scratching his cheek in a tired manner.

“I called you five times!” The bassist angrily walked towards the taller man, giving him a hard smack on the back of his head which made the other wince in pain.

“Tha’hurt!” 2D exclaimed, backing away from the other. “I’m sorry, I didn’hear ya!” He rubbed his head, trying to sooth the sting.

Murdoc rolled his eyes, pointing his finger at 2D. “We need to practice. Noodles is takin’care of ol’Russ and we’ve gotten nowhere with the new album!”

2D sighed. He was in no mood to sing. He was in no mood to practice, especially with Murdoc.

“I don’feel like doin tha…” 2D stated. “I have a headache.”

“Take a pill an’get over it.” Murdoc ordered. “Or must I force ya ta sing again?”

2D’s eyes narrowed quickly. He was still sore over the whole plastic beach scenario; emotionally and physically.

“Dere’s no whales here ta scare me.” 2D crossed his arms, turning his back to Murdoc.

Silence claimed the room for a few seconds before a muffled snort of laughter took over.

“Oh Stu, d’ya really think I’d use the ol’whale trick?” Murdoc waved his hand around. 2D shuddered and looked over his shoulder, eyeing the man who was now looking at him dead straight in the eyes.

“…wot does dat mean?” 2D asked hesitantly, raising his one eyebrow.

Murdoc groaned, losing his smile and turning it into a displeased frown. “Dullard I’m givin’ya a choice here. Either ya’sing, or I make ya’sing!”

2D felt his heart thump up into his throat. A part of him wanted to sing and get it over with, but the other half wanted to defy Murdoc; receive the punishment.

“Sorry, no can do!” 2D stuck up his nose like a stubborn child and looked away. He had to force himself not to smile, not to giggle or snicker when he heard the frustrated grunt escape Murdoc’s throat.


2D instantly put himself to a stop as he turned around. When Murdoc used that word alone, it caught his attention fully. It made his heart bubble, his nerves trembled, it reminded him of-

“Remember Plastic Beach?” Murdoc asked. His eyes were calm, his voice soothingly warm.

The bluenette felt his cheeks warm up. He glanced from side to side quickly.

“Muh’doc,I fought ya said dat, dat was like, all in da past…”

“I asked, if you remembered or not, Dullard.” Murdoc’s voice rose, causing 2D to cower down in obedience.

2D looked down to his bare feet. It was early afternoon and he was still in his underwear; he’d only woken up an hour ago.

“…yeh, I rememba.” The singer mumbled, avoiding eye contact with the bassist.

It didn’t take long for 2D to squeak in fright as he felt himself cornered in his room, looking down to Murdoc who had pinned him within seconds.

“Remember how we used ta get each other off?” Murdoc asked, his sharp nails running down 2D’s bare stomach. 2D whimpered, reacting positively to the well-known touch.

“Y-Yeh…” The singer gulped, shutting his eyes tightly. At first it was disgusting, but now just the thought of Murdoc fondling him could get him off in a few minutes. He didn’t really appreciate being Murdoc’s source of relief for sexual purposes on Plastic Beach, but after a few times he became accustom to it. He began to enjoy it. He even started asking for it at one stage.

“Well…” Murdoc hissed into the singer’s ear, making the other let out a soft gasp of pleasure. He hated himself for already beginning to get hard. He hated himself for being so weak.

“Well forget it.” Murdoc spat and pulled away. 2D blinked, frozen stiff as he felt his blood run cold.

The bassist held a deep glare. “Quit acting as if any of that shit meant anything to you!”

2D felt a part of his heart twist in pain. He slowly made eye contact again, beginning to frown.

“Yeh…it’didn’mean shit to me!”

It was Murdoc’s turn to be surprised. He quickly ignored the smidge of hurt deep down in his heart and smiled it off.

“Good. Now let’s practice.”



2D shook his head; pushing his legs together tightly to try hide his erection. “I said no.”

Murdoc’s eye twitched. “Dents, I’m givin’ya one last chance here.”

The singer stuck his tongue out. He was prepared to be hit, but when the blow didn’t come he only saw that Murdoc had left the room.

“…Muh’doc?” He blinked, standing up straight as he looked around. He frowned suspiciously, slowly making his way to his bed and sitting down.

When he realized that Murdoc wasn’t coming back, he took the opportunity to relax and try and forget about his erection. Thinking of a whale helped within a second.


How it had come to this, he had no clue. He had been sleeping and then all of a sudden he’d been awoken by an enraged Murdoc whose bare and hairy chest was glimmering with sweat. He couldn’t fully remember what Murdoc had said, but he recalled how fast things got out of hand.

“I said sing!” Murdoc snapped.

“No!” 2D whimpered, shutting his eyes tightly.


The singer hollered an inaudible set of words as he felt his insides tense up further from the deep vibrations.

This was beyond embarrassing for the taller one; sitting up in his bed, fully exposed to the Satanist as well as having his hands tied behind his back with broken cable. What took the top prize was the smooth black silicone vibrator, which had been thickly sleeked with lubricant, which was pushed up halfway into the younger one.

Murdoc had his nails digging into the singer’s legs, spreading them apart inch by inch.

“P-Please! M-Muh’doc!” The singer threw his head back on his pillow, his toes twitching.

“Sing for me then, sing a whole song, then I’ll take it out.” Murdoc grinned devilishly. The fact that he had 2D beneath him, squirming and pleading, aroused him.

“W-Wot s-song?” 2D squeaked, his erection itching to be touched.

“Any song.” Murdoc scoffed, becoming irritated by all the questions. He knew that deep inside he just wanted to know what type of song 2D would sing. Would it be something stupid or something meaningful? Murdoc hated himself for thinking that.

2D shifted upwards, cringing as he tightened himself further as the tip of the vibrator grazed against his inner walls. He took in a deep breath, quickly gathering his thoughts together.

“W-Waiting…by the mailbox, by the train-” He managed to gently whisper out.

“Louder.” Murdoc growled, making 2D flinch. The singer opened his one eye slowly.

“Passin by the h-hills til I hear the n-name.” He sung louder, his voice trembling with frustration and pleasure. Murdoc’s grin was a signal for 2D to continue.

“I-I’m lookin for a s-saw to cut these chains in h-half.” The singer opened his other eye, looking directly into Murdoc’s eyes which shocked the older man.

“And…all I want is someone to r-rely on as t-thunder comes rollin’ down.” Murdoc frowned, feeling his chest tighten. 2D was singing with meaning.

“S-Someone to rely on a-as lightning comes staring i-in again…”

Murdoc felt sweat roll down his cheeks, his heart thumping. He wrote this song, so why did 2D have to go and sing it like he was singing it to him?

The bassist let go of the singer’s legs to grab hold of the vibrator. 2D yelped with a sharp high pitched moan as Murdoc shoved the vibrator back into him, then out, then in.

“I-I’ll w-wait to be fo-AHgiven!” 2D’s voice twisted as he moaned, arching his back. His hips rocked back and forth, itching to get more. “M-Maybe I neveraaah w-will! Aangh!”

“You’re doin’great.” Murdoc licked his lips. Maybe he should do this more often.

“My-my star has, left m-me-me-Aah!” 2D cringed as he shuddered, trying to pry his hands out of their bind to stroke his throbbing erection. “T-Too take t-the bitter p-piilll!” He squeaked on the last note, digging his toes into bed sheets. “T-That shattered fe-eling … well t-the cause of itttt’s a lessooon lear-ned!”

“Sweet Satan Stu I can barely understand you.” Murdoc complained as he continued thrusting the vibrator into the younger one.

“J-Just don’t kno-ooww if I could r-roll into the sea-aaah again!”

Murdoc hissed. What if he actually never got to do this again? He let his one hand continue the thrusting while the other dug into his pants to pull out his cell-phone and search for the record button. He placed his phone down as it began to record.

“I’m c-caught again in t-the mysteryyy, y-you’re by my side, but a-are you still w-with me?” 2D squinted his eyes as he looked to Murdoc, whimpering.

The bassist cursed. He plunged forward to press his lips firmly against 2D’s neck, biting into it.

The singer flinched as he shuddered, taking in deep pleasurable breaths as he felt Murdoc’s tongue on his neck as his fingers caressing his boiling erection.

“The aa-answer’s somew-where deep iin i-it, I-I’m sorry thaa-at you’re feelin’ i-it…” He mumbled as he carried his voice gently across the room with a few low moans in between.

Murdoc pulled away to look into 2D’s eyes.

2D smiled with a bright, burning blush.

“B-But I j-juust have to t-tell that I l-loove you s-so much th-hese days.”

Murdoc’s eyes widened. It felt like he was going to have a heart attack. Those words now meant so much more to him than ever before.

“H-Have to tell you…t-thaaat I love y-you so much t-these days, i-i-it’s true.” He whined out softly, his mouth gaping open. Murdoc’s eyes burnt into his skin, his touch was irritably charming.

He quivered with a yelp as Murdoc leaned back down, roughly pumping at the singer’s erection.

“M-Muh’doc!” 2D whispered helplessly, groaning as familiar warmth of pleasure coiled along at the bottom of his stomach. He arched his back up further, nearly losing himself to the pleasure.

The vibrations mixed with the hand thrusts were enough to send the singer over the edge.

He let out loud and long melodically moans as his hips shivered. A sting of satisfaction flew through him as he hit his climax; pure bliss settled over him. He ignored his semen splattered sheet. He ignored the loud embarrassing pop sound that was made when Murdoc pulled out the vibrator.

The two stared at each other intensely.

Murdoc stood up. And he left.

2D’s smile faded.

He slowly covered his face with his shaking hands and whispered the last verse;

“My heart is in economy due to this autonomy. Rolling in and caught again…”

“Caught again.” Murdoc whispered in the depths of his own room.

{{I hope you enjoyed! Sorry if you saw mistakes… I haven't written in ages!}}

You Have a Bad Sex Life With Him: Part 2

Part 1


The rain pattered against Gemma’s window, my fingers fiddling against the corner of my book. I can just barely see the words on the paper, only the occasional lightning making each word visible. Gemma snores softly beside me, and I almost start to cry wishing I am able to sleep now. But my eyes resisted each flutter, and now here I am, awake and drowning in my thoughts.

My head falls lightly onto the window, the glass leaving a spot of cold against my skin.

“I said don’t be afraid” I sing under my breath, my voice quivering the slightest. “I’m coming home.”

I close my eyes, a single tear drop flowing down my cheek, landing softly on the page of my book. I instantly wipe it away with the pads of my fingers, shaking my head. 

I close my book softly, placing it gently down on the bed before quietly slipping out from under the duvets. I make sure to walk quietly out the door, making sure to not disturb anybody before making my way into the kitchen.

I slide the light, illuminating the room to as dim as it can be. Loneliness consumes me, wraps me up like a cocoon, fighting against the restraints. I’m miserable, spending a night where my thoughts haunt my insides, where I’m alone wondering if this is how every night will be.

A night without Harry is something foreign. I’ve always needed him near, touching me in some sort of way, feeling his skin burn through mine. It’s comforting to me, feeling the effects of a man you love. It’s a drug, an intoxication, burning your insides until you feel the high. That’s how I felt with him every night, in paradise, because it’s just me and him, with no sense of an outside world, no care or thoughts, just us. 

I lean against the counter, tracing the shapes I made out in my head. I take a few deep breaths, hoping to compose the emotions threatening to spill out. I feel like he’s slipped completely out from between my fingers, and he’s so oblivious that he just keeps his hands clenched, as if still holding on.

Tears begin to fall from my eyes, dropping onto the counter. I don’t bother holding them back, choking with each inhale. 

I cry until there’s nothing left inside of me, just an empty void of nothingness. Just a pit of numbness, settling in my stomach. Until my cheeks are dried, and my eyes swollen. I must have been out of it for a while, in a zone of deep thought and self doubt, because suddenly, I feel him. With no warning.

I feel his chest nearly touching my back, the heat radiating off his skin enough to already feel it. His breath is hitting my neck, chills running up my spine and down to the tips of my fingers. His soft hands roam my waist, dancing along the clothed parts of me. The knuckles of my fingers curl against the table. His hands run up my back, gliding against my shoulders and running down my arms, his fingertips on top of mine. 

He leans in, his lips pressing against my shoulder bone. He moans softly, detaching his lips only to kiss my skin again. But suddenly, I can’t feel him anymore, and I almost start to think he left me once again, back to the feeling of lonesome. But his hands reattach to my hips, and his lips meet my shoulder again.

“Marry me.” He whispers, his breath lingering on my skin.

My breath gets caught in my throat, my heart stopping at his words. I forget how to breathe, my lungs collapsing with his words.

He keeps his lips where they are, waiting for me to say something, anything. But I can’t, everything is caught in my throat.

“Please,” he breathes out, “baby girl.”

I let out my held breath, my shoulders slumping forward.

He kisses my shoulders again, almost desperately, just to get me to say something.

“I was waiting until I asked you. You know my reputation, I didn’t want you to think I was only in this relationship so that you can open your legs for me. I just wanted you to understand that I’m in this for you, just for you, not for anything else.”

I turn to look at him, his green eyes glistening with tears. He’s biting on his lip, his hands shaking against my waist. He sighs, bottom lip trembling between his teeth. 

“I’m sorry I put you through this. I didn’t know.” He cries, fingers petting my cheek. “But please, marry me.”

I place my hand on his wrist, making sure his touch didn’t leave me. I have never seen him so vulnerable, where he looks like a single word can destroy his whole world. But he’s never looked so beautiful.

“You don’t have to ask me, Harry, if you don’t want to. I wasn’t asking for that much.”

He shakes his head, looking almost heartbroken that I haven’t said yes.

“But I want to, I want to spend everyday with you. I already have the ring, I’ve had it for weeks. I was waiting until I showed you how serious I was about you so that you didn’t think sex was all I wanted. My reputation it—it’s fucked up. It’s not me, it’s not who I am and I didn’t want you to think I—“

Before he could finish, I lean in so I can kiss him. I make sure he can feel the compassion I hold for him, the flames of fire that burn my skin whenever he touches me. His fingertips press against my skin, sure to leave marks tomorrow morning. 

“Why’d you wait so long, my H?” I mumble, “I wouldn’t want to spend my life with anybody else.“

My nails dig into his skin, tracing the outlines of his tattoos. I rub occasionally on his chest, palms running along his skin. This is the closest I’ve ever been to him, emotionally. I feel like he’s with me now, fully there, not half gone. 

“I love you so, so much, baby girl,” he whispers, head lulling back the more pressure I puncture into his skin, “and I think it’s time I show you how much I do.”

Rumours - Harry Hook - Disney´s Descendants

Originally posted by auliicraval

(gif isn´t mine. Credit to owner) 

request: Imagine idea : being a normal teenager on the island & being terrified of Harry Hook because of everything you’ve heard about him & meeting him (choose what way you want) & him seeing how scared you are & simply trying to make you see that he won’t hurt you. Sorry if it’s so specific lmao

requested by: anon
A/N:  I found the idea lovely. But next time, Use “Hello” and “Thank you”. I´m NOT a robot.
summary:  Rumours can be scary. Especially, when the person those are about is from the Isle of the Lost. 
warnings: slight angst
wordcount: 354

tagging: @nachorebelion

fandoms I write for



You weren’t a princess or someone royalty. No. You were simply a normal teenager, being ruled by a teenage king in a kingdom, visiting a school for normal persons and royalty. You were frightened. Three new VK´s had arrived, one making you shiver. Harry Hook. You had heard different stories. One rumour was, that he had hooked someone on the isle, just like his father had done all those years before him. Or that he was with different girls every night.

 It was a sunny day, which was usual in Auradon. You talked to your friends at the Turney pitch, enjoying the sun and company. You could sense the air becoming colder, which let you look around with a scared expression plastered on your face. You quickly made up an excuse, that your parents needed you in their shop in the city. Clutching your bag close to yourself, you started to walk faster. And suddenly, caused of your own foolishness, you bumped into a person.

 “I´m so sorry!” You stated, daring looking up. Your breath hitched, the scared expression becoming more and more clearer. The one and only Captain Hook. “Don´t be, I ran into you.” He smiled. Was he good or bad? His face had a soft touch, but you were sure. The evilness was still deep inside of him. Full of angst, you mumbled something and ran off, leaving a concerned Harry behind.

 The next few weeks Harry tried everything to turn her mind around. He tried everything, showing her, that he can be good. The frightened look of hers had burned itself in his thoughts. “Please!” “I don´t know you and you don´t know me.” She said simply, closing her locker and looking directly in his eyes. “Please. I really want to be different. The stories you hear are rumours. Nothing is proven.” Your mind was working. Should you give him a chance? You slowly nodded. “I will give you chance, Hook. But don´t mess it up.” He flashed his bright teeth’s and gave you a wink. “You will not be disappointed.” Then he walked off, leaving behind a smiling you.  

I Made You Something - Drabble

Originally posted by shhhh-no-ones-home


Request: Oh please please write a Jefferson one! Something about his scar or he makes a hat for her! + Prompt: “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

A/N: Requests are open. If you want to be tagged, tell me and I will arrenge it! I will try and write the requests today, guys!


Jefferson sat across from you in a table at Granny’s. He had a shy smile on his lips and a box in his hands.

“You okay?” you asked, touching his hand lightly with yours.

He nodded. “Yes,” he said. He then took a deep breath and placed the box on the table, pushing it to you slowly. “I made you something.”

You smiled at him and pulled the box closer. Jefferson bit his lower lip as you opened it and gaped at the content inside.

“Jefferson, this is…” you breathed, unable to finish. You were surprised, but he could see the happiness behind it and relaxed knowing you liked the present.

“This,” he said, smiling, taking the object from the box with one hand as the other one took your own hand, placing it on your palms, “Is your own magic hat.”

“Thank you!” You gripped the hat with both hands, a huge smile plastered on your face. “Shall we test it?”

“Are you dubious about my abilities?” Jefferson grinned, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe I am,” you smirked.

“Pick a place. I promise I won’t let anything hurt you.”


If you want to be tagged/removed, tell me and I will arrenge it!

@macacodebanana @lilasiannerd @ria132love @amistillmyself@shopwesteros @cassandras-musings @learisa @nyu-kun69@janeschwartz1 @buckyappreciationsociety @courtneychicken

Monster Inside (pt. 4)

Previous and Next

Oliver’s head lolls to the side as black oil leaks from the corner of his mouth. He’s stopped breathing, at least the appearance of breathing that he’s programmed with to appear more human. Ollie’s eyes glow yellow like twin beacons, but there’s a tint of green to them that unnerves the others.

Google insists he’ll take watch over Oliver while the others go to rest and wait. There’s nothing they can do but wait for Anti to grow bored of puppeteering his captive. Google Blue settles down at the control desk, his eyes flashing blue with worry, more worry than he’s had to deal with for a long time, and once again, he thinks to himself how much he misses Oliver already.

Dark slips in the back, gun still pressed into the palm of his hand, and when he finds Oliver in the cell instead of Dr. Schneeplestein, he curses to himself and bites his lip. It’ll make things much more complicated to have to kill the android. Blue and the others won’t like it, but if it keeps Anti from wreaking havoc… it’s worth it.

As the scales tip—and not in Oliver’s favor—Dark raises the gun. He fires a single shot for Oliver’s core, but Blue takes the bullet instead, advancing on Dark with purpose as his eyes glow a bright blue. “Wh-wh-what d-d-d-do you-ou thi-i-ink you’re d-d-doing?”

Sparks fly from the android’s chest where the bullet tore through him, but it just missed his core. Dark backpedals a few steps and sneers, hissing through his teeth, “That glitch will see us all with a gaping hole in our throats if you don’t kill him now. And you know it. You know he won’t give this up.”

Google stops, and he and Dark come face to face as Dark’s shell splits into shadows of blue and red. Google has to stop his secondary objective from kicking in and tearing Dark to pieces. As much as he’d enjoy himself, he’d hate to have to deal with the effects of it, especially all the blood he’d be expected to clean up. Once Google has his voice box back under control, he says, low and growling, “You won’t touch my brother. If one hair on his head is harmed because of your doing, I will personally see to it that you are turned inside out and roasted over a fire. Got that?”

Dark sets his jaw. “Fine, I’ll let the glitch fry his circuits instead, and maybe then you’ll listen to me.”


Dr. Iplier inspects Henrik for any other injuries. The other Doctor is covered in deep bruises, like someone spent a lot of time throwing him around. “Why don’t I give you something to help you sleep?”

Schneeplestein, now dressed in some clothes that Doc managed to scrounge together from the other Egos and all of which are much too big for him, shakes his head wordlessly, staring at a point on the floor. Dr. Iplier sits down next to him in a chair beside the hospital bed and watches Henrik. “How long?”

“Since ze ‘Kill Jacksepticeye’ video,” Henrik croaks and scratches his arm nervously. “I vant to go home.”

Doc runs a hand through his hair with a soft but tired smile. “Henrik, I’ve got to keep you here until I’m sure you’re alright. Being under Anti’s control for that long, there’s no way to know what kind of side-effects it will have.”

“But ze ozers,” Schneep protests, “I have to make sure zey ah okay.” His blue eyes are wide with worry, and Dr. Iplier breathes a heavy sigh.

“What if I go and check on them for you? They may very well be perfectly safe for all we know.” Doc searches Schneep’s eyes, and the other doctor thinks it over slowly before nodding.

“Sank you, Doctah,” Schneeplestein says softly. When Dr. Iplier stands up, Henrik’s gaze follows him. “V-vould you…” Dr. Iplier turns around, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Henrik presses his lips together. “Vould you send someone for me to talk to?”

Dr. Iplier gives another smile and nods. “I’ll have someone come down right away. How does that sound?”

Schneeplestein nods and gets under the covers of the hospital bed. A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. “C-come in?”

Another one of the Egos appears, this one with a bandage over his eyes. “Dr. Iplier informed the Host that Dr. Schneeplestein would like some company?”

Schneep nods. “You don’t mind?”

The Host shakes his head and raises the book in his hands. “How does the Doctor feel about Sherlock Holmes?”

A little too much

Hi guys, I know I promised to write the pregnancy imagine BUT I was feeling “the sad Jo” vibe and I really wanted to put this out there. If you are feeling sad because of this, go to @lilli-jo for comfort :) xx

Joining Shawn on tour was very fun at first. Jo loved exploring all the new places and experience the nervousness before every show. She loved the buzz, the anticipation, the post-show highs. She loved the team and how everyone was, always making sure she was okay.
She even liked their tour bus and her cozy bunk bed she had been allowed to decorate.

But after nine weeks on the road she could feel her mood shifting. It was the little things at first. Missing her bed. Missing her friends back home. Hugging her mom.

And after fighting with Shawn one night, things seemed to spiral downwards.

Keep reading

Unshed Tears

Summary: Dean shows the reader how sex should be.

Characters: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1572

Warnings: fingering, oral(female receiving), squirting

A/N: Is there a word for smut, angst, and fluff? It’s all here.

Taking your clothes off in front of Dean Winchester was intimidating. He had seen perfection in a woman’s body more than once, and you knew it. He bit his bottom lip, dragging his teeth across it and looking you up and down. He was stretched out on the bed watching you. What you had done was not a striptease by any means. You weren’t that comfortable with your body, and now you were standing naked in front of him. You looked down at the floor and back at him. He held out his hand. “C'mere, Y/N.”

You walked to him and put your hand in his. He pulled you down next to him on the bed. He turned on his side so he could prop himself up and look down at you. He brushed your hair off the side of your face and ran his hand through it twirling it around his fingers when he reached the end. He took your lips in a soft and gentle kiss pushing his tongue slowly into your mouth. He made you forget that you were completely bare in front of him while he still had all his clothes on.

He pulled his tongue from your mouth and kissed your cheek with his hand still in your hair. Then he rested his cheek against yours. “Tell me how to please you, Y/N. What do you want? Tell me where to touch you. Tell me where to kiss you. Do you like it when a guy goes down on you?” You didn’t say anything. He pulled back to look at you.

You glanced down, self conscious again and not able to look at him. “I don’t know.”

Dean put his hand against the side of your face and tilted it up so you were looking at him. His eyes were comforting and confused. “Are you telling me that no guy has ever done that for you?”

You shook your head. “It was always quick.”

His mouth opened and closed again as he understood. He placed his other hand on your face so he was holding it as he spoke to you. “This is not going to be quick. I’m going to take care of you.” He lightly touched your forehead with his lips. He took off the plaid shirt he was wearing leaving only his t-shirt underneath. It hugged his body. He reached down and grabbed the hem pulling it up and over his head.

He leaned down over you putting his weight on his forearms. He kissed up your jawline to your earlobe taking it into his mouth and sucking on it gently before kissing back across your cheek and finding your mouth. He pressed his lips against yours and eased his tongue inside. He explored every inch of your mouth swirling his tongue around yours. He took his time; he tasted you.

Then he pulled away and looked at you. His eyes were the deepest shade of forest green. He looked up and down your face brushing his knuckles along your cheek. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” You lowered your eyes from his gaze. “Let me show you.” He raised up on his knees and took your hand pulling you to a sitting position.

He unbuckled his belt. He unfastened his jeans and pushed them down with his boxers far enough for his erection to spring free. He took your hand and placed it on his still growing cock. “That’s what you do to me. Seeing your curves, feeling how soft your skin is, how good you taste, I want you. I want to bury myself inside you and show you just how good sex can feel. I want to taste you. I want to lick up your juices and feel your writhing beneath me while I’m dripping pre-come for you. I want to make you climax over and over.”

You had started to shake in anticipation. His head dipped down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucked bringing it to a tight peak. Then he began to kiss it and flick it with his tongue. At the same time, his fingers moved over the nipple on your other breast. The tingle started between your legs and you began to squirm. He moved his fingers from your breast to the sweet spot between your legs.

His fingers stroked and circled your sensitive nub causing you to call out his name. He moved his lips from your nipple and back to your mouth. You moaned when he pushed two fingers inside you. You were already wet. He curved them forward to stroke your g-spot. He talked into your mouth while he kept kissing you. “Relax, Baby. Let go. Just let go.” His voice was deep, dark, and sex raspy. You squirted all over his hand as you came. “That’s right, Sweetheart. Give me everything.” You fell against him gasping. He held you while you caught your breath.

When your breathing returned to normal, he rolled you beneath him on the bed. He finished removing his pants and tossed them aside. He gently parted your thighs with his knee then settled his head between your legs with one hand on each of your thighs. His tongue made a swipe up your folds. You were instantly aroused craving that feeling again, wanting nothing but to forget everything that had gone before and know only the skilled hands and mouth of this man who wanted to give you pleasure, this man who cared what you felt.

He circled his tongue around your clit causing you to grab handfuls of his hair. He plunged his tongue in and out of your core. He was fucking you with his mouth without giving a thought to his own satisfaction. You were arching against him moving your hips in rhythm with his tongue. When his thumb found your clit, you were begging for release. “Please, Dean. Please. Please.”

“Yes, Baby. I will. Over and over. I will.” Your thighs shook as you came again on his mouth. He kissed your stomach just below your navel whispering how beautiful you were. When you quieted, he kissed you again on your mouth allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

You wrapped your arms around him. “I want all of you, Dean. Give it to me. Give me your cock.”

“Shhh, Sweetheart. You don’t have to talk like that. I’m going to give you everything I have to give you.” You nuzzled your head into his neck as he pushed slowly inside you. The stretch of him filling you was so sweet. He moved slowly at first angling his body to pass back and forth over your clit. You sank your fingers into his back as his thrusts got deeper and faster. You felt your orgasm building. Your need for him grew with every thrust. “Dean…De. Dean.” You felt him pulse inside you as he came with a drawn out moan. That sent you over the edge and your walls were clutching around him prolonging his orgasm.

He didn’t pull out of you immediately but stayed braced on his forearms over you. Finally, he leaned down into you kissing your neck where it met your shoulder. When he rolled off of you, you got out of bed. “Y/N, where are you doing?”

You stopped gathering your clothes together and looked at him. Dean was sitting up in bed all broad shoulders and green eyes. He was watching you. You looked at the clothes in your hands. “I’m going. Aren’t we done?”

When you looked back at Dean, his expression had softened. “No, Y/N, we’re not done.” He held his hand out to you. “Come back to bed. I want you to stay with me.”

You put down your clothes and went back to him. He opened his arms and drew you into them tucking you close against the warmth of his body. You lay your head on his chest, and he traced patterns on your back with his fingertips. His voice was still deeper than usual when he started to talk to you. “Y/N, you should be held after sex. The man you’re with should want to hold you and keep you close to him. You deserve that.”

His words triggered something deep inside you. They touched an empty place you kept hidden to protect yourself. It was a place you never let anyone go. It was the place you stored your tears, and now they came flooding out. No one had ever told you that you deserved any of the things you secretly continued to want with an aching heart that wouldn’t even admit you wanted them anymore.

You felt Dean’s lips touch the top of your head in the gentlest of kisses. “Y/N, I want you now after the sex, not just before.” You wrapped your arm around his waist and held on tightly. When your tears finally stopped, he told you “I want this to be more than just tonight. I want to show you how you should be treated all the time if you’ll let me.” You felt a shiver across your shoulders. He felt it too because he pulled the sheet up over you.

You snuggled in closer to him and buried your face into his neck. “Yes, please show me.”

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Healing Touch

Third in the sensory series sparked by @lepus-arcticus and the @txf-fic-write-in word vomits. 

You can read See Me and Hear You

Diana Fowley is dead. She has to tell him and she is dreading it. She has rehearsed the words over and over but when he opens the door she is bereft of words. His face is softer somehow, gentle. She removes his cap and listens to his words about Albert Hosteen. She doesn’t believe him. She can’t believe him. He was there. She prayed with him. And yet she knows Mulder is not lying to her. He opens himself up to her with beautiful sentiments about how she is his constant, his touchstone. She runs her thumbs over his lips and she is undone. It is difficult to turn away, but he has been through so much.

              She walks down his hallway and considers how many significant moments have passed between them here. His shitty apartment block has become a cornerstone of their nearly moments. She would laugh at the irony of their almost kiss if it weren’t so painful for her to remember her icy prison; she would indulge in the fantasy of nearly kissing Mulder, if it weren’t so humiliating that she told her college story to a would-be rapist; she would wonder at the length of time she sat with him on his couch going through case files or arguing against the existence of life on other planets or convincing  him that completing paperwork on time saved hours of interrogation by auditors later, if it hadn’t been such a ride.

              She is waiting for the lift when he lays a hand on her shoulder, strong and warm. She feels a ripple through her insides, powerful to the point of pain. She runs her hands down her thighs and turns to face him. He is still wearing that damned stupid cap but there is something so vulnerable about him that strikes at her core.

              “Will you stay, Scully?” he says.

              “Mulder, are you okay?”

              He has undergone back-street brain surgery. He has lost a friend. They have both been witness to the remarkable and unexplainable, to the horrors that power can deal out. There are so many questions. And yet his one question seems burdened with the weight of the universe and its mysteries. A simple four words. Will you stay, Scully?


His apartment is a comforting mess. So Mulder. On his walls are prints and movie posters, blistered paintwork, shadows of his past. In his kitchen are the bare essentials but he makes the tea with surprising care and precision. In his living room, the green glow of his fish tank wraps itself around her, settling on her shoulders like an old lover. She sinks into the leather cushion of her side of the couch and he sits next to her. He sits forward though, elbows on knees.

              “You should be in bed, Mulder. I can stay here, if you like. I’ll grab some linen.”

              He swings round, his mouth open in surprise. “No, Scully. I don’t want that.”

              “So, what then?” She reaches out to him, flattens a palm over his back, and the plane of his muscles ripple under her hand.

She thinks that perhaps he doesn’t know what he wants. He’s in a kind of perpetual shock, his life has been one protracted incident, so many losses, so many bitter disappointments. And he has been so alive that it brought him close to his death. She doesn’t know how to make it better.

He shrugs.

“Oh, Mulder,” she says, sliding forward on the couch so that their legs are pressed together. “Tell me what you want.”

He turns to her and there are tears in his eyes. “My brain is so busy, it won’t let me be. I just want to be.”

“We can just be, Mulder. If that’s what you want.”

He falls into her, a surprisingly light weight at her side. She lets herself think that it’s because they fit so well, that together they are one. But she admonishes the skittishness of the thought and lets him sink further into her until his head is on her lap.

“’S’like Mothman, Scully,” he says.

She chuckles and strokes his hair. It is always thicker and coarser than she remembers. “Don’t ask me to sing.”

His shoulders move up and down the slight friction against her thighs unsettles her. She shifts under him and he glances up at her. “I had dreams, Scully. Fantasies, almost. I…I can’t explain it, but I know they were wrong. Like they were introduced to make me think it was my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I married Diana. We had kids. It was…so illusory, so fake. But I was helpless to fight it, I was trapped in this make believe world and I had to go along with it. But it was all a lie.”

His voice is tight, gravelled with fatigue. She shushes him, placing a finger over his mouth as she massages his scalp.

“But you, Scully,” he says looking up at her and clasping her hand in his. “You were real. You were bright and strong and lifelike. You were no illusion. Only you were real.”

“It’s okay, Mulder. The anaesthetic they gave you, the treatment, it was… barbaric. It’s understandable that your memories are mixed up.”

He laughs. “You can never be anyone but you, Scully.” He kisses her knuckles and she feels the warm press of his lips tingle through her veins.

“Is that a good thing?” She lets the question hang.

His lips whisper over the skin on the underside of her wrist and she squeezes her eyes shut as he moves her hand down so that he is kissing to her elbow. “You can never be anything other than a good thing, Scully.”

He turns so that his face is against her abdomen and she can barely breathe. His head in her lap, his nose pressing against the fabric of her blouse, his hand in hers, the other under his face, his legs curled up, making him seem so vulnerable. She lifts her eyes to the ceiling and watches the patterns of her thoughts swirling there.



“What happened to you? In Africa?”

She lets out a breath and feels his face press closer to her stomach. “I saw things. Strange things. Like your dreams, I can’t really explain it. But I feel different somehow. Like something has changed inside me. I can’t articulate it.” She looks down at him and strokes his fringe away from the bandage. “I don’t know what happened in Africa, Mulder. I just don’t know.”

“I feel it too, Scully. I feel a change in you and a change in me. Like we’ve been touched, somehow.”

“You nearly died, Mulder.”

“But we’ve seen it before.”


“Healing.  Samuel Hartley in Tennessee, Jeremiah Smith. There are many cultures around the world that believe in the power of touch.”

“Mulder,” she says, trying not to sigh too deeply. “You should sleep.”

“I can’t. I know something has shifted for us. I want to hold on to that feeling for a while.”

She knows it too. She feels it deep inside. Something has stirred within both of them. She lets the tears fill her eyes. He reaches up a hand and strokes her cheek with the lightest of touches. He brushes away her tears and pulls her face towards him.