duffeling

Mixup

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, talk of periods

Word Count: 1,913

Prompt: After a witch spews it’s spells on Dean and the reader, the reader wishes for something to happen to Dean, and Dean turns into a whiny bitch about it.

Special thanks to @lipstickandwhiskey for betaing.

It was nearly blinding when the purplish-grey dust flew around you and Dean. Before it could all clear out, and the two of you could actually see, Sam had nailed the witch. One bullet, directly through the back of her head, and you were fine. She collapsed into a heap on the ground, and that was that.

Sam’s nose scrunched up as he approached the two of you. “What the hell did she douse you guys with?”

“Some of her freak weirdo witch juice,” Dean grumbled, practically gagging at the stench that was coming from the dust. “I need to shower, like now.”

“Good thing we’re not far from the motel,” you chimed in. “So what do we do with Bellatrix over there?”

Dean scoffed, “really? Out of all the iconic witches, you pick the one from Harry Potter?”

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Dean Thomas’s healing trip through the great expanses of America turns out to be more than even bargained for. A smallish continuation of this

  • As he and Seamus and Parvati are preparing to leave from London, though, a familiar blonde head comes barreling towards them. Hannah Abbott, with a duffel bag so pink and fluffy it makes Dean want to laugh, sheepishly asks if she can come with. 
  • She’s directionless, after the war, and sad - and Dean’s heart can’t take it. Despite the protests of his two companions, he agrees immediately. 
  • They pick up Dean’s RV in Manhattan, and buy enough maps to cover all the tables and walls inside of it. Dean and Seamus take the big bed in the back, and Parvati grudgingly agrees to rotate with Hannah between the twin bed above the cabin, and the little couch that smells like it once housed a large cat. 
  • The boys…aren’t together yet - they don’t kiss or touch or do the things Dean would eventually like to, but they’re both comfortable with the eventuality, with the energy and the intimacy between them. 
  • The boys start out liking the RV for its campiness and cliche, and the girls dislike it because it’s dirty and a little melancholy, but it slowly becomes home.
  • They set up cleaning, cooking, and driving rotations. 
  • Dean looks out the window and sketches for hours. 
  • Hannah buys pink curtains to replace the dingy ones that had come in. 
  • They have lots of late nights together, the four of them, talking about everything and telling stories. 
  • Parvati cries a lot - Hannah is nice but she is not Lavender
  • They try to see everything - the vastness none of them experienced in cramped England, the national parks, the tourist traps, all of it. Everything they can see to distract from the horrors of the last year. 
  • Dean likes driving, on rotation with Seamus (who can’t obey stop signs or use turn signals to save his life…or Dean’s…but can drive long stretches of highway without a single complaint), Parvati (who uses a matchbox car and her wand to develop a magical form of cruise-control so she doesn’t have to steer), and Hannah (who is willing to trying anything, and works hard to get as good as Dean.) 
  • The wind farms in big open spaces of country remind him of Luna. The turbines are spindly and pale and powerful (so powerful). They stand alone and draw energy from the air - they’re melancholy and beautiful. And goodness, they’re weird. Dean feels a pang of homesickness for the first time since he’s been out there, and writes Luna a long letter.
  • They get letters from home - from their parents and Padma and Neville and Hermione - in big packages from an albatross leaving from New York that seem to find them everywhere. They send replies in similar bundles, after Parvati figures out the post system to get them their contact in New York. 
  • Hannah finds she’s really good at sweet-talking and getting what she wants - park rangers, diner owners, Wizarding officials who detect their spells. 
  • Deanmus finally happens when the nights start getting colder at the end and they start having to huddle together for warmth towards the end of September. Other than the physicality, nothing really changes. They’ve been together for years, really. 
  • Dear Hermione, I couldn’t BELIEVE it when you and Ron sorted yourselves out before Dean and Seamus did, but now all of you are where you’re meant to be. So that’s one more thing off my plate. America’s huge and empty. Hope everything is okay with your parents. Love Parvati. PS - These two are way too secretive for me. Send me a couple pages of intimate details about you and Ron, will you? I’m starving.
  • They learn about things like mile markers and laundromats and how to shop sales for groceries and how to barter for space for their RV. They try not to use magic, except for Parvati’s impromptu cruise control.
  • Dean and Hannah battle it out for the position of Dominant Mother Friend. Seamus and Parvati usually favor Dean, because they’re used to him, but Hannah can cook like none of them have every experienced. 
  • Seamus discovers Muggle music. Not classic rock, or even Top 40 - he discovers country music.
  • The space helps. Dean stops having panic attacks, Seamus stops having nightmares. Parvati changes a lot, but also regains some of herself. Everyone likes the Lavender-less qualities she develops, even though they miss her like a phantom limb. Hannah, to whom the war had not been kind, although the DA gave her her life, learned how to be a person again. 
3

For this to work Neil should both be a little shit and have exy balls with him at all times, so it seems pretty reasonable to me

Based on this

Also imagine Nicky shouting “Kinky!” in the bg for extra nonsense

i don’t want to be weird, but -

Cas in S12E07: “Dean, plaid is not sexy.”

Dean in S12E08

Dean in S12E10

Dean in S12E19

I really don’t want to be that person, but ever since Cas let slip he doesn’t like Dean’s ‘lumberjack’ look, Dean’s stopped wearing plaid around him (Sam hasn’t, because why would he?). I mean, I don’t know what happens in between episodes, and apparently a lot does, but on screen, every single time Dean’s been with Cas after Rock Never Dies he’s chosen to wear a ‘normal’ shirt.

The only exception is S12E12, but, whatever, I’ll forgive that episode anything.

And, of course, for the purpose of this post costumes don’t count, so I haven’t included suits or anything, but just as a reminder, this is what Dean changed into after Cas’ bad-tempered comment - and I’m willing to bet half my liver those were not random clothes he had in his duffel - he went out and bought them, because lumberjack? I’ll show you who’s a fucking lumberjack. Dick.

Writing is Hard, pt 9: Sexting

Summary: You send Dean some dirty pictures.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Warning: Smut, taking pictures during sex

Word Count: 2600ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO


You hold up the phone, then almost instantly put it down.

This is stupid.

No. This isn’t stupid. This will be hot. Just do it.

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shakespeare aesthetics

romeo and juliet: suburban july. scraped knees, bruised knuckles, blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in a breeze. burning inside. an ill-fitting party dress, a t-shirt you cut up yourself, the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friend’s house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn-looking basketball hoop at the end of the cul-de-sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip-flops. a eulogy written on looseleaf. the merciless noontime sun.

hamlet: speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half-remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn, mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you’d say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins, books with cracked spines, books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls’ day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. a big black t-shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil under your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

twelfth night: wicker deck furniture. new england summer. big dark sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean, patio umbrellas flapping in the wind. chlorine smell. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love, love for the idea of love, love for love’s sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar, a crab fisherman with tattoos, a pretty boy with a slackened tie. a light house. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. finger guns. big floppy sun hats. double-speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drunk on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you’re unprepared for, hope you weren’t expecting, pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. pool noodles. becoming less of a stranger.

macbeth: the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat, the stillness after battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. a sulfur smell. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12:00. a snake that crosses your path, an owl that watches you, a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke. dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now. 

much ado about nothing: the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck, military supply duffel bags in the hall, hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch, a pitcher of iced tea. barbecue. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. indian summer. ill-timed proclamations. stomach-clutching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen, a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog-eared rhyming dictionary. camomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you have a home until you’re there. 

king lear: cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lightning, a too-big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red-black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the tips of your teeth. the blown-out windows of skeletal houses. decay. jokes that aren’t jokes, shutting up, holding your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods, wondering if the gods are listening, wondering if the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

a midsummer night’s dream: wet soil/dead leaves smell. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill somebody slipped you. fear that turns to excitement, excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hollow in an old tree. glow-in-the-dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

Eric’s dayplanner, written by Dylan.

5:00     Get-up
6:00     meet at KS                  
7:00     go to Rebs house
7:15     he leaves to fill propane
           I leave to fill gas
8:30     Meet back at his house
9:00     made d. bag set up car  
9:30     practice gearups  
            Chill …  
10:30   set up 4 things  
11:       go to school  
11:10   set up duffel bags  
11:12   wait near cars, gear up
11:16   HAHAHA  

Greedy ( Jeff Atkins x Reader)

Request : Hiiii can you make a Jeff Adkins smut where he gets jealous because your talking to Zach? Idk lol if you want to😊

A/n: Hey yo was goodie  guys is your girl back with another smut this request was lowkey fun to write idk why but anyways thank you so much for over 500 reads on need a hand and 330+ followers I honestly feel like this was a shitty imagine because it was rushed because i have finals so I’m sorry if you don’t like it I promise not to suck so bad for the next one. Anyways if you’re waiting on the Jason imagine or the rest I’ll try to get them all in before next weekend key word try because finals have me pulling my hair out.

Warnings:Smut sin sin sin more sin just you know sin eating out , slight dominance coming from Jeff? jealousy you know the usual. Also they are juniors in this imagine so 

You and Jeff had never been the fighting type if you guys had a problem you would talk it out in a mature non-violent way. Lately things have changed Jeff wanted to argue with you about the littlest things. When you took to long to answer his messages because you were taking a shower or too busy doing homework. When you didn’t spend enough time with him. When you didn’t show up to his baseball practices. Little things that never bothered Jeff before now let’s not get it twisted you loved spending time with Jeff after all he is your boyfriend for a reason but lately you both have been so stressed and busy looking at colleges and preparing for the SATs that you guys had no time for each other. 

Junior year is a stressful year you both knew and understood each other or at least you thought you did out of nowhere Jeff started acting really possessive and weird towards you. You tried talking to him but he wouldn’t budge to tell you what’s been on his mind. You decided to go to his baseball practice since he was complaining the whole week that you hadn’t gone. It was Friday and honestly all you wanted to do was go home and sleep but you decided to come support your boyfriend. You were making your way towards the field when you spotted your friend Zach .

“Hey y/n” he said as he spotted you

“ oh hey Zach ” you said hugging him

 Change POV 

“Where are you going ?” He asked

“ I’m gonna go watch Jeff practice you know I have to support the boyfriend ” I say giggling

“ ah I’m heading there too I’m waiting for Bryce you want me to walk you ? ” he asks 

“ yea sure why not ” I say smiling

We walk together into the bleachers laughing at dumb jokes zach is making. When we reach the bleachers I look to the field and spot Jeff looking at me I smiled and wave but he just ignored me or maybe he didn’t see me. I shrug it off and take a seat in the bleachers watching the practice until is over. When the coach blows the whistle I run up to the field and hug Jeff he doesn’t return the hug instead he mutters and awkward hi. I give him a concerned look but he just shoves past me going to the locker rooms to change. I decided this needed to stop and I should talk to him. I start walking to the car deciding to wait for him there. A couple of minutes later Jeff comes in the car throwing his duffel bag on the back seat and putting the key in the ignition.

“ Are you coming over today? ” he asks not even looking at me

“ As a matter of facts yes I am there’s obviously something we need to talk about ” Waving my hands In front of me to emphasize my point.

“ I don’t know what you mean there’s nothing to talk about ” he says as he starts to drive to his house. I stay quiet for the rest of the ride.

When we arrived at his house he opened the door letting me in first Jeff might be mad at me and act like a dick sometime but he never looses his manners. I rush upstairs to his room throwing myself on his bed and letting out a frustrated groan. I feel the bed tip and he lays besides me. He grips my waist but I pull away from his hold.

“ what’s wrong babe ?” He says coming closer.

“ I should ask you the same thing since you decided to be a dick one second and then a sweetheart the next” I say standing up and going over to sit in his computer chair.

He start walking towards me he grabs a hold of my wrist and pulls me up pushing our bodies together. I try to get out his grip but it’s not very useful since he’s stronger than me. He pulls me towards the bed and throws me on it.

Pinning me down he starts kissing my collar bone and he whispers “ Do you want to know why I’ve been so moody lately ” he nibbles on my neck

“ Well I mean it’s not like I’ve been asking for the past 2 weeks now ” sarcasm dripping from my voice he might have me pinned down and it’s slowly turning me on but there’s always room for sarcasm.

He cups my face kissing me roughly “ you’ve been spending so much time with Zach the little giggles here and there , laughing at his jokes , hugging him ” he says with a husky tone. “ do you think I don’t notice oh sweetheart , baby girl you have a lot coming if you think you can play with me like that ” he says attacking my collar bone again.

Originally posted by kissing-pleasure

He sucks on my neck harshly marking me moan. He makes his way down my body slowly teasing me.  He suddenly rips my shirt and I gasp.

“OMG ARE YOU SERIOUS THAT SHIRT WAS TWELVE DOLLARS” I say looking at my now ripped shirt.Jeff only smirks and continues kissing down my body.He reaches the hem of my skirt and pulls it off in one swift movement.My heart beats faster as the heat between  my legs starts increasing.

He moves his hands trailing them up and down my bare legs admiring them.I had to admit that would be kind of cute if i wasn’t so eagered for his touch.

He comes back up kissing me passionately and pulls me up to unclasp my bra, He slides it down my hands and throws it across the room.He kisses down my bare stomach reaching the hem of my panties grabbing the elastic and letting it go so it emits a sound.

Originally posted by kissing-pleasure

He pulls my panties down slowly tormenting me and throws them across the room joining my bra.He starts kissing on my thighs and  I close my legs rubbing them together to create some friction Jeff smirks and pulls them apart coming closer to my core but not yet touching it.  I feel his breathing hit my spot and I shiver from anticipation.He suddenly licks a stripe parting my lips apart and a loud moan fall from my  mouth.

“Jeff stop teasing babe” I said whining

“Tell me what you want then” he says rising and eyebrow 

“ I want you to do something” I said whining again

“ and that something is “ he says moving his hand over my thighs 

“ I want you to fuck me with your mouth” I say frustrated “Is that what you wan- OH MY GOD” I couldn’t even finish my sentence he plunged his tongue into me cravingly exploring my insides like his life depended on it.


My hips bucked upward from the pleasure as moans escaped my mouth here and there.I grabbed onto his hair pulling it slightly and he moaned into my core making a waveof pleasure  run through my body, I felt on cloud nine with his mouth working wonder as he gripped my thighs forcefully trying to keep me steady.My eyes rolled back from the pleasure, I could hear myself gasping slowly every time he moved his tongue. He was writing words or maybe the alphabet at this point I couldn’t tell. His appetite didn’t seem to be satisfied every taste he had made him want more.


His greed, urgency and desire all came  together to form a combination I couldn’t explain.I felt myself coming closer as pure bliss kicked in a harmony of melodies falling from my mouth along with some curse words. Jeff plunging his tongue into me ,drawing patterns and pulling me closer all of that combined  pushed me to the edge and I felt a wave of rhapsody run through me I slowly rode out my high thrusting my hips upward as Jeff wiped me clean.

He stood up with a satisfied smirk wiping the corners of his mouth coming closer to my face .He kissed my forehead “ you “ he kissed my left cheek “ know” he kissed my right cheek “ I’m”  he kissed my chin “ greedy “ he kissed my lips passionately “ and that I hate sharing baby so why do you push me “ he says smirking. 

“ I don’t Mr.Atkins” I say in between pants 

He pulls me up by me hair and whispers “ you know you’re mine “

“ I’m all yours my greedy man” I say pulling him in for a kiss.

Alright kids buckle up this is gonna be a long one

Viktor owns a dacha that he inherited from his family that’s way out in the middle of Butt Fuck, Russia on the shore of a lake the name of which Yuuri cannot pronounce. 

Yuuri finds out about the dacha because the key to the place is an actual skeleton key and Yuuri asked about it while holding Viktor’s keys for him one day.

“Oh, that’s just the dacha,” Viktor took the key and spun it around in his fingers, contemplative. “I haven’t been there in years, not since the deed was put in my name. Maybe I’ll take you there someday.”

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Scream It Louder

Originally posted by jeonfhan

Character(s): Reader X Wonho, BestFriend!hyungwon

Genre: smut, slight sexual tension

Warning(s): jealous smut, slow build, praise!kink, rough sex

Length: 8.5 k words

A/N: For the anon that requested a wonho smut similar to the kihyun one. im sorry this ain’t really my best work, but yoooo Wonho got me feelin some type of way


You scrunch up your nose as you stand behind Hoseok, fingers digging into the hem of his shirt as he drizzles cheese onto the nachos.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” You ask, eyeing the mess of salsa, ground beef, tortilla chips, and cheese on the baking sheet.

He groans, tipping his head back, “Of course I know what I’m doing. God, do I look like I’m 12?”

“Nah,” you respond, grinning cheekily, “More like 15. That awkward mid-puberty boy type of look.”

He swats his hand at your grip on his shirt, pointing the wooden spoon in his hand at the sofa.

“Go and sit and be quiet if you want any food,” he says, turning his attention back to the nachos.

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I think Dean actually made this tape when he was young and has been carrying it around with him for years. It’s super special to him because it has all his favorite Zeppelin songs and it’s the tape that has been played so much it’s nearly worn out. He and Sam have played that tape and sung along with Robert Plant on a thousand cross-country drives. And this tape probably got him through a whole lot of lonely drives after Sam went to Stanford. He knew that those songs were special to John and Mary and it’s become the soundtrack of Sam and Dean’s lives.

Under all of his tough guy bluster, Dean is a sentimental romantic. He wore the Samulet for years. He treats Baby like a living thing because it means family and home. He kept Castiel’s trenchcoat in his trunk for months after he died, even moving it from car to car. And his most treasured possession is a picture of his mother. Dean puts deep meaning into the few items he holds dear. 

So the fact that he wanted to gift this (and wouldn’t take it back) to Cas means so much. It means that Cas is family and that he wants to share with Cas something that is an integral part of who he is. For a man whose entire earthly possessions can fit in a car trunk and a duffel bag, to give something that you made yourself and kept with you for maybe decades to a friend is a truly special gift. 

Four Bedrooms

[ao3]

Based on this story told at Jibcon 2017
3.7k words

The thing is, Misha’s a liar.

He stretches the truth when he knows it’ll be to his advantage. He flatout lies when he thinks the truth will upset someone more than he’s willing to deal with.

So when he offhandedly invites Jensen and Jared to his rented house for the duration of filming the season 12 finale, he doesn’t expect them to take him up on the offer until after he’s already told them it’s a four-bedroom house.

It’s not a four-bedroom house.

The downstairs consists of a cramped living room with a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, a small kitchen with enough counter space for exactly one cutting board and a sitting area with a wooden table and three chairs instead of four. The upstairs is one hallway with a master bedroom on one end and a much smaller bedroom on the other end. The spare bedroom barely has enough space for a full-sized bed. There’s one bathroom upstairs, between the bedrooms.

“Uh, you sure this is the right place?” Jensen asks as he sets his duffel bag down on the small couch in the living room.

“I might’ve…stretched the truth a bit,” Misha replies sheepishly.

Jensen turns to him, hands planted on his hips, unimpressed glare on his face. “I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

As Misha opens his mouth to respond, the door bangs open and Jared comes in with a whistle.

“Wow, Misha,” Jared says as he looks around the small room. “This is as awesome as you hyped it up to be.”

“I never said it was glamorous.”

“You also didn’t say it was the size of a broom closet,” Jared replies as he throws his stuff on top of Jensen’s. “Where are we sleeping?”

Jensen and Misha share a look before both turning back toward Jared. Misha says, “We can worry about that after work tonight I guess.”

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❝ It’s over. ❞

Plot: Jimin cheats on you, because he’s too drunk, and you broke up with him. 

Pairing: JiminxReader 

Words count: 1,9k+

Genre: Angst

For anon, I hope you like it! - M. 

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner! ♥

The happy barking of your dog was the best welcome after a long and tiring day of study and work. You laid the purse and the keys on the cupboard near the entrance and you were ready to head to the bathroom to relax a little when strange noises from your bedroom made you block completely.  

Immediately your heart began to beat at an abnormal rate because they were little misunderstanding sounds and immediately understood what was going on in that room.  

Your hands began to tremble and in small steps you began to walk towards your room, finally reaching the door. Yet you couldn’t open it, you were scared to death to see what, or rather who, was in it. But your hopes were destroyed shortly after because the female voice screamed that name, the name you hoped to never hear, and with your hopes, even your heart broke completely. 

Your brain allowed you not to hurt yourself and trying to remain silent you turned and left the house looking for a possible refuge to spend those hours.  

You never thought that Jimin could cheat you. After a year of relationship by now you thought you were perfect together, he was so considerate to you and he always tried to show you how much he loved you. You had so hard to trust him, because of your past experiences, that that seemed like a joke to you because it felt impossible that he really did.  

Walking through the streets of Seoul you didn’t cry, because there were too many people who could see you, stopping in a kiosk and starting to drink in solitary. You never liked alcohol, but at that moment you just wanted to anesthetize a little the pain your felt into your heart.  

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love on the weekend

Nursey’s there to pick him up at the airport, and Dex can’t resist the urge to run into his waiting arms. After five weeks of not seeing Nursey, he doesn’t want to wait another minute to finally get to touch him.

“Hi, baby,” Nursey murmurs, face tucked into his neck. Dex feels the scratch of a beard that wasn’t there the last time they saw each other.

“Missed you,” Dex sighs, holding on for another moment when Nursey goes to pull back. Nursey indulges him, squeezing even harder and pressing a kiss to Dex’s cheek.

“Let’s go home,” Nursey says when Dex finally lets him go. Nursey grabs the duffel Dex always uses as a carry-on in one hand and Dex’s hand in the other, leading him out to the car.

Home. It’s a term they use to describe both of their places, his in Chicago and Nursey’s in Pittsburgh. It’s accurate, he supposes, because either place is only really home if they’re there together.

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Love Yourself

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: language, sexual frustration, smutarific, masturbation

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: 6k Celebration and One Year Fic-i-versary Celebration Fic TWENTY. The line requested was,  “You’re like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness.” It was requested by  @docharleythegeekqueen. It will be highlighted in the fic. I am also including my line for @avasmommy224 Dirty Thirty challenge which is  “Don’t knock masturbation. It’s sex with someone I love.” Let’s see if I can’t make this good for everyone. ;) Happy Birthday, Jenn! :D

Feedback Appreciated

Tags at the Bottom

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Words Speak Louder Than Actions

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: sexting, dirty talk, mention of the word “nut”, mentions of ass eating, no actual penetration, metal arm kink, flirting with a woman, masturbation

Word Count: 2234

bang this might be bad idk (p.s the gif has nothing to do w it lmao it probably would’ve gone better w shoot from the hip)

Originally posted by khalblogo

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anonymous asked:

Could you do a Jeff Atkins imagine of being Clay's twin sister and a good player on the girls soccer team and like Monty and Bryce keep harassing you because you're good looking but you can't stand them because they're jerks and Jeff comes to you're rescue when they get aggressive because he considers Clay and you friends and most of all he likes you (and you obviously like him back)??

title: i am lying in wait

word count: 1143

note: it took me writing this fic to realize how much i actually love jeff atkins he’s a cinnamon roll can i just like……. save him……….


Most of the time, attention had never bothered you. In fact, you were used to having all eyes on you. Being one of the best players on the Liberty High girls’ soccer team had proven time and time again that having people notice you all the time just came with the skill. You could, however, discern which attention was unwanted.

High school boys, for the most part, were really fucking stupid. You’d come to this conclusion on your third day of freshman year when Bryce Walker and Justin Foley had come into school smelling of weed and obviously very high. You made a mental note to never get involved with a boy until you were out of high school and into the world of college; you changed your mind when your twin brother, Clay, introduced you to Jeff Atkins, a boy in your grade whom Clay had met in his World History class.

Three years of flirting with one another had led nowhere. It was obvious that you liked Jeff and he liked you back, but it never happened. You were too shy to say anything to him about it and he wasn’t sure if he could bring it up on his own, so there you were, stuck in an endless flirtationship.

Soccer practice was always during the same time basketball practice was, but the basketball players were always done and out before the soccer kids were. You were running defense drills when the boys showed up to sit in the bleachers that lined the field; Bryce and Montgomery were there, as usual, with those shit-eating grins ever ingrained on to their face.

“Looking good, [Name],” Bryce shouted after you.

“Hell yeah, babe! Those shorts are extra short today,” Monty added.

If your face hadn’t already been burning from the effort you were putting into today’s practice, you’d be flushed from embarrassment. Thankfully, your coach came to your rescue the first time, yelling at them to not distract her players. It kept them from making remarks for a while until she left to get some more soccer balls from the gym to practice passing.

As the remarks went on, they grew more and more aggressive. It was obvious these guys were creeps, they always had been, but it made you feel like shit when they objectified you like that. You had to focus extra hard on passing to your partner to block out the comments. Nevertheless, they persisted.

Jeff was just leaving the library, his backpack slung carelessly over his shoulder as he made his way to the soccer field. He always stayed for your practices so he could drive you home and talk with you. Tutoring with Clay was getting done just as the coach was clearing the field, telling the girls to rest up for the game that weekend. He could have sworn he’d be able to hear those sickening catcalls from two of the biggest jerks on campus from three miles away.

As the bleachers came into view, he could see you seated on the very edge of the bottom row, your head down and your eyes focused on switching into a more comfortable pair of shoes instead of your cleats. Bryce and Monty had moved to sit in the two seats above you, and it was clear you were as uncomfortable as could be. With no signs of the two stopping, Jeff approached.

“Come on, [Name], we just think you’re really sexy,” Bryce was throwing down endless nicknames that made you feel worse by the second.

“Hey, Jensen!” Jeff called, smiling brightly in your direction; he could clearly see how relieved you were when he showed up. He grew closer and you stood up, focusing your attention on him instead of the two assholes behind you in the bleachers. The baseball player wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder as he glared up at them. “These guys giving you trouble?”

“Just a little,” you said, shrinking against his side.

“Aw, come on, babe. We were just complimenting you,” Monty supplied, a sickening smirk on his face, one that mirrored the one on Bryce.

You wanted to fold in on yourself, melt into a puddle right there on the sidelines, do anything that would get you away from the two basketball players who made your life a living hell when they were around. What they said was gross, something that really shouldn’t ever be said, yet here they were, clearly making you uncomfortable.

“Listen, de la Cruz. She’s not your babe. I suggest you stop treating her like she’s some piece of meat you can have. She’s clearly uncomfortable with what you’re saying to her and it needs to stop. Learn how to treat a girl and maybe you’ll finally get one,” Jeff retorted quickly, his free hand clenching into a fist.

He didn’t even wait for them to respond; they looked dumbfounded. As they stared, Jeff grabbed your duffel bag, slung it over his other shoulder and coaxed you to his car, a sympathetic look on his face.

“Sorry if what I said back there seemed possessive or something like that,” he apologized as he tossed your bag in the back seat and opened the passenger door for you. “I just know that they’ve been harassing you for a while now and I was getting really mad about it.”

“Thanks. I didn’t have the courage to tell them to stop and even if I did, I don’t think they would have taken no for an answer.”

“It’s no problem.”

The car was silent as Jeff pulled out of the student parking lot. You turned to look at him and rested your hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Seriously. That was really nice of you to do for me.”

He didn’t turn to look at you, but you could see the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips as you spoke your second thanks. When your hand pulled away from his shoulder and you looked back to the road in front of you, his right hand reached overs to grab yours.

“It’s not right that he was calling you babe and all that. Those are reserved for, like, boyfriends.”

You raised an eyebrow and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “Really? Are you trying to tell me something, Jeff?”

The blush creeped adorably fast onto his cheeks and you giggled quietly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Am I?”

“You know, if you wanna call me nicknames like that, I’m okay with it.”

The roses bloomed an even deeper shade of red, adorning his cheeks with an adorable flush that made him look heavenly in the golden sunshine.

“Alright.”

Silence.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You think if we go to Rosie’s right now, we could consider it a first date?”

“Gonna ask me out, Atkins?”

“Maybe.”

“Finally.”

Thursdays

Your eyes lock with each other, each look becoming more loving and longing every second that passes by. You rest your head on his chest, making him smile, thanking the gods above for this moment with you. He kisses the top of your head, holding you even tighter, closer, and safer.
“I think I’ve completely fallen for you.” He says.

Summary: In which you worked at the local diner in the city and found yourself to have fallen for Zach Dempsey.

Pairing: Zach Dempsey x Reader (you)

Warning: HELLA FLUFF

ya’ll i hope u like this cos i do its my fave one so far PLS LMK

Thursday. It was the very first time you saw Zach Dempsey, along with his teammates, step in to the diner. It looked like as if they just got out of basketball practice, as you can tell by the duffel bags and red, leather basketballs they had in hand. Boy, were they rowdy. ­Zach’s tall frame always stood out to you. His attempt to make his floppy hair stay still was your amusement during your 5-hour weekday shifts.

It was every Thursday night that stolen glances, shy smiles, and failed attempts of conversations would happen.

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Night Moves

Written for Baby’s Big 50 Birthday Challenge, hosted by @butiaintgonnaloveem​​. My prompt was “Night Moves” by Bob Seger. Happy Birthday, Baby!

Summary: Dean and Sam go see an old friend while recovering from a rough hunt. She helps them admit what they really want.

Pairings: Sam x Dean, Sam x Dean x OFC (Katherine)

Warnings: Smut, feels, Wincest

Word Count: 4150

A/N: I loved writing this one. Hope y’all love it too! Feedback appreciated. XOXO

Dean slides the cassette into the deck, grinning when the music starts. He’s got the itch under his skin and he needs to drive, needs to breathe fresh air and see some new trees.

“You ready, Baby?” he whispers, and he swears she purrs back a yes.

Sam comes out of the motel room, looking sleepy and relaxed, blinking into the early morning sunlight. “What are we doing up this early?”

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