plait shirt

I Kissed A Boy (Dean x Reader)

A/N: Okay, this one is a little long because I got a little carried away while writing this haha😅 Anyways, this was fun to write, I just loved the idea of Dean exploring his inner gayness if you know what I mean😏 There is also implied sexy times so be warned ;) Enjoy!!

Request: Can you write a Dean one where you and the brothers were hunting a witch and before you guys kill the witch, she hits you with a spell that turns you into a guy and Dean doesn’t know why he feels equally sexually attracted to you as a guy when you were a girl and idk how to explain but yeah thank you btw love your blog!! :)

Warnings: slight cursing, homosexuality((sorta))

“I’ll go around back and you two take the front,” you said to the brothers as you pointed your gun to the side, showing them where you’ll go.

Sam and Dean nodded but Dean held your arm to stop you as you started walking, making you turn back to look at him questioningly. “Stay safe,” Dean said before letting go.

You nodded and gave him a small smile before heading to the back of the house. You and the Winchesters were hunting a witch and the three of you finally found her. When you found her, you really thought it was a fairytale coming to life, with the witch house in the middle of the forest, toads hopping about and crows.

God, how you hate witches. They were sneaky sons of bitches, with all their hex bags and curses. The brothers didn’t like them any less. You had started hunting with the Winchesters ever since they met you at Bobby Singer’s house, the three of you just clicked. Well, mostly you and Sam, you and the older Winchester were always at each other’s throats but the two of you seemed to have gotten over it and you somehow ended up liking him. You guess opposites really do attract.

Shaking your head, you walked up the steps to the back door, wincing at the creaky steps as you readied your gun before reaching out to place your hand on the doorknob. The moment you opened the door, you noticed the witch standing there but before you could react, she threw some kind of powder at you before bolting. You shut your eyes to prevent the powder from getting in as you coughed, feeling the powder go into your system. “Son of a bitch.”

You continued coughing as you wiped at your eyes, feeling a weird tingling sensation throughout your whole body. You felt everything around you spinning and you quickly grabbed the doorway to support yourself, trying to regain focus. After about five minutes, you heard shouting coming from inside the house before a gun shot sounded. Straightening up, your clothes suddenly felt really tight on you, your shoes too.

Trying to ignore the feeling, you took a step and heard something rip. You closed your eyes. “Oh god.”

Keep reading

Dean Winchester X Reader -Relief

Originally posted by hidden-in-a-dreams-gifs

Third prompt fic! Requested by anon:25/59 with either Sam or Dean x reader?
A/N:Thank you v much for requesting, I hope you like it, & sorry it took so long.

Prompts: #25: “You’re his weakness, that’s why he won’t let anything hurt you,”
#59: “Are you going to watch her sleep every night?”
“I’m afraid that if I take my eyes off her, she’ll disappear again. I can’t- I can’t go through that a second time.”
“I know. But if she’s got any hope of having a normal life again, you have to give her some breathing room,”

Word Count:793

You squirm against the ropes that the shapeshifter tied around you. Even though your wrists are getting rope burns on your wrists, you’re desperate to find a nail or something sharp to cut the ropes.

You hear footsteps and freeze. Dean walks in, holding a knife at the ready. You gasp slightly, as his eyes catch yours, and he rushes over to you.

You let out a sigh of relief, as he bends down in front of you. You look him in the eyes. “You’re not Dean,” You say in a low voice, turning your head away.

Keep reading

Derelict - multi-chaptered

Chapter One


Derelict (adj): in a very poor condition as a result of disuse or neglect/falling into ruins


Based on this prompt: multi-chaptered reality fic where Dan is in an abusive (physically, mentally and sexually) relationship with Phil and can’t get out

WN: (I’ll put specific ones for specific chapters as I’m not entirely sure how this is going to play put just yet) smut, skype sex, slight sexual harassment and non-con, swearing, emotional manipulation

My bottom lip slides between my teeth and I grip it nervously, trying to ignore the incessant thud of my heart against my ribs. Visibly my fingers shake so I clench them and shove them beneath my thighs. Why can’t I stay calm? It isn’t like he was anything to be scared of. From how he acts in his videos, he seems ridiculously adorable.

Okay, he might be a little older than me. And that could mean awkwardness considering I’m eighteen and he’s already in his twenties (only by two years though, so it can’t be that bad.) Plus we’ve never met in person, or at all really; I may have seen his face and heard his voice a bunch of times but all he’s got from me are MySpace messages. And not to mention the fact that either one of us could really be a sexual predator.

Suddenly the screen flashes a deep blue and that sweet melody plays around my room. If my heart wasn’t beating before, I can definitely feel it now. Forcing myself to take a deep breath to fill up my lungs, I click “Video” to answer his call.

Immediately the air around me feels stifling as it fills with the sound of static and background noise through a relatively cheap laptop microphone. His profile picture of him wearing a red-plait shirt remains in the centre of my screen whilst my tiny window buried in the corner fades into an image of me, mirrored and flipped, and at the sight I curl into myself in self-consciousness.

“Hey,” His voice just about makes itself heard over the relentless heartbeat in my ears, “Dan Howell, I presume?”

If this wasn’t the situation, and I was with someone I knew and they knew me, I would probably shoot back with something sarky, like “It says my name under my video, you spoon”. But no, this is not such a person. Under his eyes I feel more exposed than I’ve ever been, like he’s watching my every slight movement, and it’s difficult to be myself. At the thought I force down a silent gulp and simply nod my head.

Silence stretches between us, and I can feel my hands getting clammier with every passing moment. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“I’m about to do all the talking, aren’t I?” At that I blush, feeling ridiculously awkward and curl into myself even more. “Aww, that’s adorable! Look at you!” Fuck - he’s noticed. Unable to help it I feel my cheeks burning a deep red and cover their obviousness with my still trembling hands. “Hey, Dan? Come back…” His pout is practically audible but I shake my head.

Great - thirty seconds in and I’m already a mess.

(That’s what he said.)

“No, seriously it’s alright. I don’t mind it. I know you’re nervous. We’ve never actually done this before,” he reassures, making me feel like I’m calming down just by the softness of his voice. “But, as you can see, I’m no paedophile, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Oh. Hang on.

Clumsily my fingers fall onto the keyboard, stumbling and skidding across the wrong keys at wrong times before eventually collapsing on “Enter”:

Dan Howell: Can’t see you :(

Silence sits between us for a while, then suddenly his video comes on. He’s far too close to the camera but actually he quickly moves away, readjusting his position, and runs his hands through his hair. They drop onto his lap and he lets out a sigh, lips curling into a lopsided grin.

“How about now?” I just stare, head tilting absentmindedly in admiration. “Helloooo? Earth to Dan?” Then without any warning I snap out of it, realising what I was doing, and for god’s sake I was blushing again. “You know, you do that a lot. It’s really cute.” My head shakes lightly in disagreement and I look away.

This really was a stupid idea.

“So I’m guessing my gorgeous face has now graced its way onto your screen?” Bringing my bottom lip between my teeth again I nod, trying to keep my composure. This is Phil Lester I’m talking to - Amazing fucking Phil - there’s no way I can let myself mess things up so soon. “You know, you’re really cute, Howell. I’m not going to get over that.”

Once again, I can’t find the courage to actually use my voice, so I had to resort back to the keyboard.

Dan Howell: Shut up

Phil’s amused laugh fills my ears, slightly distorted by the crappy audio, and he leans closer to the camera to rest his head on his hands, giving me a devious smirk.

“Make me.”

I freeze, and for a couple of seconds I’m sure I don’t breath. It’s clear what he’s implying, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that idea yet. My cheeks start to burn, with awkwardness this time, but this only makes him laugh more.

“Oh, Dan Howell. Such a cute little boy, so young and shy. I’ll make you mine one day, you pretty thing - wouldn’t you like that?” At the question I don’t answer, not willing to go that far with a man I was just meeting. I know if we keep this up that I’ll end up with a pathetic crush on him, but that shouldn’t matter, seemingly as he’s way out of my league. Besides - why would he settle for an awkward, inexperienced kid like myself?


“You like me, don’t you?”

My heart jumps into my throat at the accusation, questions like “how does he know?” and “is it that obvious?” flying through my head in a panic.

You see, infatuation is the silly childish thing I’d let myself fall into in the couple of months that I’ve known him. Because fuck, Phil Lester is older and confident almost to the point of arrogance, and he’s social and flirtatious and talkative and basically everything I’ve ever aspired to be. But since I’m a stupidly hormonal teenager, there was no way I could stop myself from imagining him using his confidence in the bedroom, teaching me things and showing me how it’s done, letting me please him and also him pleasing me. Alright, I think about it a lot - because Phil’s a bad boy and I’m a shy boy and my god, he’s such a dream.

“You cute thing, you do like me! You’re so obvious,” I feel the blush heat my cheeks and I turn away, cursing myself once again for choosing Skype over a normal phone call. When I’m with him on video, I blush so much I think one day a blood vessel in my face might actually burst.

Phil leans forward, chin resting on his hands, and he cocks his head with that wide smug grin on his stupid perfect face. “You know, if you really do like me, I’m sure we could come to some kind of arrangement,” with a suggestive wink my attention is back on him, silently begging for him to continue. “Because how on Earth could I resist a cute little face like yours?”

“Phil…” I whine, wanting him to stop making me blush.

“Shut up, it’s adorable. Now - how about you and I talk relationships? Is that what you want?” Bringing my bottom lip between my teeth like I always do when I’m nervous, I timidly nod, not wanting to come across as desperate. Phil’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk and his eyes twinkle with a glint of something, but it’s gone so fast that I completely forget it was even there.

“Good. I think you and I can have a great thing together, you know? I really can’t wait.”


I gulp as I read the words on the screen, wondering what the hell they mean.

Phil Lester: Call me ;) I’ve got something for you

In all honesty, I’m nervous. I’ve only known him for three months, or there about, and knowing Phil this probably won’t be romantic.

Hesitantly, with trembling fingers, I press “Call” and wait for him to answer. He does in record time and once I’m met with his stupidly smug face I roll my eyes.

“Phil, it’s ten pm, my parents are asleep,” I whisper, “What d'you want?”

Phil shoots me one of his signature knowing grins, “Well then, I’d plug some earphones in if I was you,” he raises an eyebrow suggestively. “Besides, I’m blaming this on you. You see, I haven’t stopped thinking about you - all day, in fact,” I feel my cheeks rising in colour, a sensation I’m unfortunately used to, “and you know, you’re just so gorgeous, even the thought of you gets me going…”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion at the statement, until Phil brings the webcam lower and lower until I watch it pass the hem of his joggers. My eyes avert away, widening in surprise, and my hearts thumps even faster than before. I did not just see what I think I did.

“You did this to me, so you’re gonna fix it, Dan,” I shake my head - what the hell am I supposed to do? Watch him?! “Oh yes, you are. I want to see you, kid - hard and bare and desperate to be touched,” my blush deepens as I consider whether or not I could actually go through with this. “And by that you know I mean your dick, right?”

“Phil,” I whimper, “I don’t think I can–”

“Come on, Dan. Just do it. Live a little,” Once again I shake my head in reluctance, causing Phil to let out a sigh in frustration. “You’ll enjoy it, trust me.”

Eyes shut and cringing, I bring my hands to the hem of my boxers and slip my fingers beneath the waistband. I don’t make any noise as I pull the material down to expose myself, cheeks probably a blood red by this point. I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

“Let me see,” Phil pleads. Still looking away I refuse with a gesture he must be getting sick of. “Let. Me. See.” he demands.

Whimpering at his tone I grip the lid of my laptop with a trembling hand and force it down, until I hear Phil curse and suddenly my heart is thudding in my ears.

“Jerk yourself off for me,” I hear him growl.

“N-no, I can’t… Not with you watching…” But he stays silent this time, impatient, silently forcing me and not offering a choice. Taking a deep breath, I curl my trembling fingers around myself as I run them slowly up and down my length, whilst trying to ignore the glottal moan Phil releases at the same time.

“Fuck Dan, you’re just so hot. So hot for me, aren’t you? You little slut, you’re loving this,” I bite back a whimper as I only feel more humiliated, letting myself be used as a tool to help Phil get off. It’s too obvious that he’s doing the same thing, and judging by the volume of his noises he’s really enjoying himself. “I’ve been so hard for so long, just waiting for you. You should feel special, I held off for you.”

“This is weird…” I mumble to myself, trying to see how this sort of thing can be pleasurable for some people.

“Shut up, this is amazing. Just the sight of you… So innocent, yet such a slut for me,” Phil moans out between sentences, making me realise I’ve never heard him so…whatever it’s called. Sexy? “Such a good little slut. Would you do anything for me?” Not wanting to disappoint him (because he could very easily leave me for someone else) I nod my head, suddenly feeling the true effects of my hand. “Just as I thought. You’re gonna do so well.”

I want to ask him what he means by that but Phil cuts me off with an exaggerated moan, and I can’t help but answer with one of my own. “Phil, how close are you?” I ask timidly with no real clue of what to say in this situation.

He lets out a noise which is a mix between a laugh and a groan and it sends blood rushing straight to my dick. Cringing at the fact that I’m really hard and Phil can see that, I hear him moan “Oh, I’m so close. But what I’d really enjoy is my little slut here moving his laptop so I can see all of him and he can see all of me.”

A horrid twisting sensation becomes prominent in my belly and I suddenly don’t want to be doing this anymore. “Phil, I really don’t want–”

“Dan, I do not have all night, now move!” Sighing, I give in and stand up to place my laptop on my desk before sitting back on my bed, the little window showing from above my head to my knees and unfortunately everything in between. I still have a shirt on but just as I realise that Phil demands “Take that off, I want all of you,” so I comply without any protest.

When I can finally bring myself to look at him I see he’s in the exact same position, with his hand working relentlessly on his dick. This is so weird. We haven’t even kissed or held hands yet.

“Fuck, I wish I was there with you, I’d jerk you off myself.” I bite my lip hard, trying to throw all coherent thought out of my head so I can actually enjoy this. I’m just so hard and frustrated that I have to stroke myself that little bit faster, stifling a high-pitched moan at the relief. “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” At the mention of it I feel myself draw suddenly closer and nod frantically, aware that Phil had been hard long before I was, but hell - I’m a teenager, and this isn’t fair. “Fuck, gonna look so hot. Do it. Come for me. Fuck, I’m almost there.”

Knowing it’ll make Phil happy, my legs begin to tremble at the intensity and suddenly I stumble over the edge, whining and whimpering as the incredible warmth rushes through me, face scrunched in pleasure. One final time I hear a curse pass Phil’s lips and I know he’s gone too.

My eyes drift to the screen and my mouth’s wide open as pant with exhaustion. I watch as Phil collapses onto his bed and lets out a breathy laugh, and I want to laugh too but suddenly this cold washes through me and immediately I bring my hands down to cover myself, tugging my covers over my crotch too and sinking into myself in shame. I can’t believe we just did that. We really shouldn’t have done that.

“Oh, fuck, that was incredible!” Phil exclaims, still laughing and to my surprise not attempting to cover himself up. “We have to do that again sometime.”

For the absolute first time in mine and Phil’s relationship, I take a deep breath and, using all my courage, straight out say “I didn’t feel comfortable with that and I don’t want to do it again.”

The call falls into a tense silence and straight away I regret the words I used, wishing I could simply grab them and gulp them back down. I watch, nervous, as Phil sits himself up and looks dead at me, his glare older and intimidating. But then his eyes soften, and he watches me almost lovingly.

“Dan, baby, it you weren’t comfortable you should’ve said something,” he coos, and I feel myself slowly calming at the sound. “I don’t want you feeling sick or awful because of something I wanted you to do. Now, baby, be honest: can you really tell me you didn’t enjoy that?”

A blush creeps onto my cheeks and I shake my head. “I guess I did…”

Phil smiles at me in appreciation. “There - see? Not so bad then, right?” He laughs again and at the sound I let a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. “Loosen up a bit, kid. It’s only me.”

Next Chapter

Yoongi; color my life

❝im sorry im sorry im sorry I am min suga trash you guys should’ve seen any of suga scenarios coming from time to time but yo this video got me all emotional and I wanted to write it out so here it is.
(i am not colorblind and i can never feel the pain of how it is to be one so i really hope i don’t offend anyone with this but i hope that i did you justice (???))
►1859 words | scenario, video-based 
//i really like my edit like look at yoongs being all cute

You have a nine-to-five job that doesn’t wear you down, a lifestyle where you can feel proud of because your diet doesn’t consist of fast food every day (though you have your spree days), you’re sure (at this moment, at least) that you’ve found the one you’re going to grow old with but… you’re colorblind.

Keep reading

Coffee Catch

For the prompt “You’re the hot asshole who dumped your coffee down my shirt and turns out you are my college professor” from this list.

1k, G, no warnings apply

Derek is nervous.

He’s in the little coffee shop just off campus, drinking one last coffee before his first lecture starts.

A few girls start giggling loudly behind him and he catches one of them say something about a hot older professor, but when he turns around they are looking at him, giggling even louder, ducking their heads together to whisper urgently.

Derek whips back around, feeling his cheeks flame, not because they called him hot, he knows what he looks like, but because they think he’s a professor. He feels terribly old suddenly, aware of every single year that sets him apart from those girls and everyone else in the coffee shop.

Because he might be old enough to be a professor, but this is actually his first day as a student.

After the fire, Laura barely got him through the rest of high school, and college was out of the question then. He was barely above feral, jumping at mean laughter, eyes flashing at the faintest hint of roses, Kate’s favorite perfume.

But now Laura is going to get married and he really can’t live in her guest bedroom anymore. And though he didn’t need to get a degree to get a job, didn’t need a job period, he decided to finally get that college experience he was missing out on all those years.

He’s been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that he has to leave now or he’ll be late for his first class.

With a bitten back curse, Derek stands up and starts walking while still pulling on his leather jacket, not really looking where he’s going. He does actually curse out loud, when someone slams into him and hot coffee runs down his front.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!”

Derek looks up from his ruined shirt into bright amber eyes that are staring back at him. The guy that ran into him is gorgeous, moles scattered across pale skin that Derek wants to lick. He’s not as heavily muscled as Derek, but his plaid shirt stretches nicely across his broad shoulders and Derek really wants to bury his hand in his hair and tug.

Keep reading