i actually just spent the last 10 minutes trying to figure out how to take a picture of my camera

Modeling and Something More - Dylan Sprayberry Imagine

Modeling and Something More - Imagine

Prompt/Request: Omg so like what if you did a Dylan Sprayberry imagine were the reader is a grungey rebellious model/actress. And Dylan and Her have a photoshoot together,maybe you can add a smut-ish make out session like when they are in there dressing rooms??

A/N: OMG so I wrote this and had so much fun! I didn’t write the smut part though. This is nothing like what I usually write but it was a change. Im so sorry if the kiss scene was awkward since I didn’t know how to write a hot makeout session. The ending is kind of bad but I don’t know.. Anyways this one is kind of long so yeah! Nonetheless, I hope the person who requested this enjoys this anyway and tells me what they think about it. PS: THIS IS THE CLOSEST I HAVE EVER/WILL WRITE TO SMUT. (maybe ;) ALSO, I KNOW THIS ISNT TW BUT ITS DYL SPRAYBERRY AND I PRODUCE WHAT MY READERS WANT :D

Pairing: Dylan x Reader

Word Count:  2004


Originally posted by trettbalbot

Your POV

I made my way towards the studio I was expected to be in 5 minutes for the photoshoot with another male model. Of course I was familiar with who I was going to be working with. Heck, he was a good friend of mine.

My heels tapped against the marble tiles as I walked into the empty and open elevator ahead of me. I pressed the button of the elevator, the button showing a lit up number 6. As the elevators closed and began to move, I went on my phone to check any new updates. Being a model and actress at the same time gets your life pretty busy. Especially if you’re known as the bad girl-rebellious famous person. I check my Instagram and it’s not long until I’m finally on the 6th floor of the building.

The doors open and I’m greeted with the fresh smell of coffee and people working. From where I was standing, I could already see the photographer and makeup artist working today. I think the noise of the elevator attracted the attention of everyone as I stepped out of it. Everyone but my manager, Beth who was already holding her notebook and yelling at everyone.

“Has anyone seen Y/N? She’s supposed to be here in 2 minutes!” She growled, scribbling in the pages of her notebook.

I chuckled silently as I snuck up behind her and tapped her shoulder. “Calm down Beth, I’m here. Relax.”

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bellamybllke-deactivated2015031  asked:

CARRIE! :) I don't mean to be a bother but i'm working all weekend and i'm currently tortured by a certain monthly affliction that a werewolf boyfriend would certainly come in handy for so i was just wondering if maybe you could write some fluffy derek/stiles kid!fic to help ease the pain a little? thanks for always being so amazing!


Scott just stares for a second. “Holy shit, what was in that goop?” 

They’ve managed to defeat that ridiculous mischievous trickster spirit that had been wreaking havoc all over Beacon Hills. It had exploded into a mess of sparkly purple goop, which had apparently transformed anyone within the blast radius… into a toddler. And “anyone” meant that both Stiles and Derek were now chubby-cheeked baby versions of themselves. 

Scott recognizes Stiles as the same bright eyed kid he met on the playground in preschool many years before, and Stiles immediately begins screaming in confusion. Derek on the other hand is quiet and looks suspiciously around, holding onto the over-sized henley he’s now wearing, staring at the pile of jeans around him. 

Kira giggles. “They’re so cute!” She reaches out and pinches Stiles’ cheeks. 

“AHHH!” Stiles shrieks. “Who are you? Where’s my mom?”

“Stiles— Stiles, it’s okay, it’s me, Scott!” Scott says, crouching down so he’s on Stiles’ level.

Stiles examines him for a moment. “Scott is my age, ‘n you’re all grown up,” he says. 

“No really, I’m Scott. You peed on my sandcastle when we were kids.”

Stiles grabs his face, poking it with his little fingers, eyes wide.

“You’re grown up too, just…um, there’s was an accident, but we’re going to fix it!” Scott says earnestly.  

“Okay,” Stiles says. 

Derek meanwhile is staring up into Scott’s face. “You’re an Alpha werewolf,” he says, lip wobbling. “Mommy said if I ever get lost to talk find the Alpha. Can you take me home?” he asks with a slight lisp. He raises up his chubby little arms expectantly. 

Scott automatically picks him up, holding him in his arms. 

“Carry me too, grown-up Scott!” Stiles wails. 

Scott has one kid in each arm, both of them drowning in ridiculously large shirts. 

“Say cheese,” Lydia says, holding up her phone. 

“Wait, Lydia, no—” Scott protests.

“Believe me, I am going to be taking pictures of this entire thing until it gets fixed, this is hilarious,” Lydia says grinning. 

Which is how Derek finds himself a week later, staring at a laptop at a video of his four-year-old self talking solemnly to the camera. 

“When I grow up, I’m going to marry St-Stiles,” baby Derek says sincerely, looking up at the camera with a shy smile. 

Scott is laughing in the background, and then Lydia’s voice says, “Oh really, why’s that?” 

“Because St-Stiles is the best, and he gave me his blanket to share and brought me apple juice to drink after I said it was my f-f-favorite,” Derek says, smiling happily. He’s missing two of his front teeth. 

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