button low shirts

The Moose Will Be Mine

This fic was written for 2 challenges: (1) the glorious @thing-you-do-with-that-thing SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge Week #18.  The prompt is “There is so much blood.”   And #2 the amazing Ana @percywinchester27 ‘s POJ challenge. My quote is “With great power… comes need to take a nap. Wake me up later”

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader

“What is your brother’s deal, Dean?” I asked as I looked up from the ancient text on Vetala I was reading.

“Could you be a little more specific, Sweetheart?” Dean asked, draining the last of his beer in one long swallow.

“How long did Sam say he would be?” I asked cautiously before answering.

“An hour at least, why?”

I swallowed nervously. “I’ve noticed him staring at me like I’m a dog he wants to pet when he thinks I’m not paying attention. He definitely has my chest memorized, that’s for damn sure. “

Dean grinned broadly.  “I was wondering when you’d finally figure it out.  I think he’s got it bad for you, Y/N. But every time I try to talk to him about it, he changes the subject.”

“Well, most of the women he gets involved with end up dead, so can you blame him?” I said with a smirk.

“Don’t think I don’t know that you have it just as bad for him,” Dean told me just as the bunker door opened and Sam came in.  I bit off my response and just glared at him instead.

Keep reading

  • Me: *just casually happy and getting on with my day*
  • Me: *sees Luke in a snapback and low buttoned down black shirt*
  • Me: *pulls all of my eyelashes out* "FUCK EVERYTHING"

anonymous asked:

idk if you're still taking requests but if you can & want will you do something about/with calum smoking 😫

You tuck your hair behind your ear as you walk out of the bar, your eyes immediately finding your boyfriend as he hunches and cups a hand over the end of his cigarette to light it. You chew on your bottom lip as you approach him, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy just at the sight of him.

“There you are,” you murmur as your fingers slide along his lower back, the long sleeves of his leather jacket you’re wearing nearly covering your hand completely.

He grins as he tilts his head back and blows out the smoke, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him as your hand pushes into the back pocket of his jeans, “where did you think I was?” He chuckles, lifting his cigarette to his lips to take another long drag.

You shrug, your free hand on his stomach as you thumb at the buttons low on his shirt, “I came out of the bathroom and you were gone- I figured you were having a smoke, I just didn’t know where,” you murmur.

He hums and ducks to brush his lips to yours as his hand smooths down your back and up again to gently grip the nape of your neck, deepening the kiss, his tongue slicking against yours. He tastes like Marlboro, beer and everything Calum and you can’t help but moan a little, melting into him as your heart pounds.