and in that moment i swear we were

anonymous asked:

Suga and Daichi fuck.

NICE TRY ANON.


“Last night I had an interesting dream.”

Sugawara, Oikawa, and Kenma turned towards Akaashi as he made the statement.

“Please, share,” Sugawara clasped his hands politely in front of him on the table.

“I love hearing about people’s dreams!” Oikawa rested his chin in a cradle of his hands, smiling intently at Akaashi.

Kenma let out a low groan, “If this is another dream about Bokuto’s biceps I swear I’m leaving.”

Akaashi was silent for a long moment.

“It’s… not…”

Kenma started to stand but Sugawara dragged him back down.

“Please, continue, Akaashi-san,” he said warmly.

“Okay, so Bokuto-san was doing pull-ups. His biceps were glistening with oil-”

Ughhhhh,” Kenma slumped back in his chair. “Not again. Please, can we talk about something else?”

“I want to hear about Bokuto’s glistening biceps,” Sugawara said.

“Me too,” Oikawa mused. “Iwa-chan is still out of town so I need new biceps to fuel my libido so that when he comes home we can have the best sex of my life.”

“Then why don’t you just think about Iwaizumi-san?” Kenma scowled.

“Well if I tell Iwa-chan I fantasized about other men, then he will get jealous and fuck me even har-”

“Okay, sorry I asked.”

“Actually, I’d like to hear about that too,” Sugawara said.

“Me too,” Akaashi admitted.

“So it’s settled,” Sugawara nodded. “After we are done hearing about Akaashi’s sexy dream, we will hear about how hard Iwaizumi is going to fuck Oikawa when he gets him jealous.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“No deal,” Kenma grabbed his drink and stood. “I’ll be at the counter. Goodbye.”

Sugawara grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and dragged him down to his seat once more. He looked to Akaashi and smiled, “Continue, Akaashi.”

Kenma groaned as Akaashi cleared his throat and began once again.

“So Bokuto-san was doing pull-ups. He was shirtless and was covered in oil. Except his hands, of course. It would be difficult to do pull-ups with oily hands.”

“Very difficult,” Oikawa agreed.

“Maybe even impossible,” Sugawara lifted his glass to his lips and sipped.

“I hate you guys,” Kenma grumbled.

“So this went on for several minutes,” Akaashi and the others ignored Kenma’s growling. “As I was watching, suddenly… these huge wings sprouted from Bokuto-san’s back.”

“Oh man, I bet the pull-ups were so easy after that,” Sugawara’s eyes widened.

“They probably would’ve been,” Akaashi agreed. “But he stopped doing pull-ups. And he started flying around. And then his shorts came off-”

Kenma slumped over the table and moaned into the wood.

“But instead of his normal lower body,” Akaashi went on, “It was the body of a horse.”

“So he was like a…” Oikawa’s brows furrowed. “Centaur… Pegasus?”

“Exactly. So then, this voice echoed all around and it was like, He who tames the Pegasus and earns his trust, will become the president of the United States. And so of course, I don’t care about becoming the president of the United States, but I was interested in taming Bokuto-san.”

“Naturally,” Sugawara nodded slowly.

“So I entered the competition to tame Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said. “Oikawa-san was there too. He wanted to become president of the United States, eradicate capitalism, and become a dictator. And the first law you wanted to put into action was that everyone had to have the same hair as you.”

“Well now, this sounds a little too real to be a dream,” Oikawa lifted his hands in a dainty shrug.

“But Iwaizumi-san didn’t want to spend two hours styling his hair every morning, so he was competing against you,” Akaashi added.

“Not fair!”

“So the competition started, and all these fireworks went off, startling Bokuto-san. He flew away. Everyone went looking for him but couldn’t find him. But I knew where he was.”

“Where was he?” Sugawara leaned forward, eyes bright.

“Let me guess,” Kenma muttered. “He was at the bar.”

“You’re right, Kenma.”

“Ohhhh good one, Kenma!” Sugawara offered his hand to slap but Kenma shunned it.

“So I run to the bar, and there’s a huge hole in the wall. Also, for some reason, the bar was painted neon pink…”

“Because it’s gay,” Oikawa said.

“Really gay,” Sugawara confirmed.

“So I crawled through the hole in the wall and Bokuto-san was standing on the counter. I went up to him and I told him that I was there to tame him. At first, he argued with me, but then I took off my shirt and-”

“Please don’t tell me you had weird centaur sex,” Kenma interrupted tiredly. Dark bags hung under his eyes as he regarded the other man wearily.

“No, unfortunately not,” Akaashi let out a sigh.

“Oh thank god.”

“So on my chest was this huge tattoo of Meryl Streep-”

“What the fuck?” Sugawara whispered.

“Holding a flame thrower-”

“What the fuck?” Oikawa whispered.

“Riding a griffin-”

Kenma tried to stand but Sugawara yanked him back down.

“And her hair was in corn rows.”

“I fucking hate you guys,” Kenma said.

Akaashi ignored him, “And Bokuto-san just started crying. And he turned around and on the side of his horse body, he had a grey marking that looked exactly like the tattoo.”

“This is super romantic,” Sugawara said.

“And then he said he was hungry, so I went into the kitchen…” Akaashi looked to Sugawara, “And Sugawara-san and Daichi-san were in there, making love on the stove.”

WILD!” Sugawara jumped to his feet. “THEN WHAT?”

Then… that was it. The dream ended.”

Ehhhhh?” Sugawara pouted. “No… give me more details about me and Daichi fucking.”

“Uhm… well I only caught a glimpse,” he shrugged. “You were on top of him though… and you were wearing a Tiki mask, but I knew it was you because Daichi-san was like, Oh Suga. Suga… lick my buttery nipples…”

Wild,” Oikawa muttered.

Sugawara let out a loud whine and stomped his feet. “No fair! Even Akaashi’s dream Suga gets more dick than I do!”

He sat down with a huff, arms crossed over his chest. The table fell silent for a long minute before Kenma muttered,

“I can’t decide what’s more unbelievable about that dream. Bokuto’s wings, his horse body, the Meryl Streep tattoo, the president of the United States thing-”

“Don’t you dare,” Sugawara warned.

A slow smirk spread over Kenma’s lips, “Or the fact that Sugawara actually got laid.”

“Oh fuck you, Kenma.”

Originally posted by gif-weenus

holy shit okay so me n my mom were listening to green day radio in the car bc that’s our favorite and jimmy eat world was on so we had it at full volume and as soon as the song ends the first note of wttbp comes on and i swear at that moment i almost had a heart attack

Massages

4.2k of smut, I’m not even sorry

‘OUCH! Stop, st- STOP IT PANSY! Argh, fuck, I think I broke a rib.’ Draco sat down on his bed, a painful expression on his face which was paler than usual.

‘You’re an ungrateful bastard’ Pansy flopped beside him, pouting ‘the whole Slytherin house knows I’m the best on giving massage’

‘Well, I better look for someone from other houses then’ Draco made another pained expression as he got up. ‘I can’t, I can’t walk. Argh, fuck!’ He laid down slowly. Pansy only stared at him from the door, the look on her a face a mixture of pity and remorse.

‘I’ll get someone. Even though you were a little bitch just now.’ She glared at him before leaving.

It’d started three days before then. He was getting ready on Wednesday morning to practice quidditch. Everything was fine when he bent down to tie his shoelaces, but the second he straightened his back an acute pain hit him on his hips. It’d gotten worse the past two days to the point now he couldn’t even sit properly without feeling it.

He laid there, thinking maybe he would have to look for Madam Pomfrey after all. But fuck, those potions always messed up with his stomach, he’d do anything to avoid taking them even if it meant asking for someone he didn’t know to give him a massage. Pansy had told him she knew what she was doing but at the end it’d only worsened it.

***

‘It’s for a friend, you see. He’s in a lot of pain at the moment and I was hoping you knew someone good on giving massages’ Pansy flopped down on a chair at the eighth year common room.

‘Well,’ Hermione started, closing her arithmancy book. 'I do, but… who exactly is this friend of yours?’ She gave Pansy a look that could be translated as 'Are-we-talking-about-who-i-think-we-are-talking-about?’

'Draco’ Pansy sighed, predicting the other’s answer. 'But… I swear he’ll behave. And you owe me this one, right? After I brought you those French hair products’ Pansy smirked.

'You really are a Slytherin’ Hermione sighed 'but they were actually amazing. I’ll help you with this one but I can’t guarantee it’ll go well.’

Pansy gave her a quick hug, grinning. 'Who is it then?’

'Harry’ Hermione murmured to herself.

Pansy gasped and then laughed until tears were streaming down her face.

'Holy. Shit. Are you sure he’ll want to do it?’

Hermione gave her a little smile.

'He owes he a favor’

Pansy’s giggling was catching the attention of everyone around them.

'Who’s the Slytherin one now?’

***

'Tell me how amazing I am’

The girl bursted inside his dorm an hour after she’d left to find Draco in the same position.

'You found someone?’ He got up, regretting the decision immediately. 'Ah, shit! Are they outside? Please tell me they’re outside’

'They’ll be here in ten’ Pany sat by his side and poked his cheek 'go on, tell me how amazing I am’

'You’re amazing’ he grunted. When he looked at his friend, though, she wasn’t paying attention, busy with a little pink bag Draco hadn’t noticed she’d brought before. 'What-’

'Oils. For the massage’ she smirked and Draco felt blood going to his cheeks.

'There’s no need for that’

'They have properties. They could help’ she started to take the little flasks with different colors out of the bag and pile them on Draco’s bed.

A light knock on the door told them Pansy’s friends had arrived.

'C'mon in!’

'I just don’t understand why… No. No fucking way.’

'Harry, please, Pansy said-’

'What the actual fuck, Pansy!’ Draco started talking at the same time Hermione tried to stop Harry from leaving the room. 'This is… ah, shit shit- ARGH!’ Draco’s attempt to get up brought back the striking pain on his lower back and he felt his knees failing. The next second he was tumbling to the ground with a loud thud. Tears came uninvited to his eyes and he bit his lips as hard as he could to stop from screaming.

Draco didn’t look up to see who it was that was trying to help him get up. A firm hand went on the underside of his thigh as the other grabbed his shoulder firmly, pushing him to his feet just long enough for him to get to his bed. When he collapsed on his bed, flushed cheeks and tears still streaming down his face, everything he could think about was that maybe his time had come. Die would be better than suffer so much humiliation in front of Saint Potter, who was panting by his side.

Harry stared down at the boy in front of him, Malfoy’s face twisted in an ugly expression. It was like he was trying to sneer at Harry but the pain was too much even for that. Harry sighed and turned to see he was left alone in the room with an incapacitated Malfoy. Well, shit, that was just great. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? Peace, it was all he was asking for after everything. But, oh no, he had to have asked Hermione for help with his potions homework the week before, and now he owed her this. Harry wouldn’t have denied giving a massage to any of his friends if they’d asked him. He’d helped Hermione, Ginny and even Luna in the past. But Malfoy? Give Malfoy a massage, after everything, almost sounded funny.

Except it wasn’t because Harry had a hero complex and he knew Malfoy wouldn’t ask for such a thing if he wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t even Malfoy who came looking for Hermione, it was Pansy, which meant he probably was in a lot of pain. He couldn’t walk, from what Harry could see.

Small flasks caught his attention, all of them pilled up beside Malfoy.

'What’s this?’ He grabbed one and put it against the light. The liquid inside was thicker than water.

'Oils. Pansy brought them. She said they could help. Not like you need to know this anyway since you won’t use them.’ Malfoy spoke through gritted teeth, facing the wall opposite to where Harry stood. So he was expecting him to leave, that cocky bastard.

'Take off your shirt then’ Harry levitated all the tiny flasks to the ground and picked up one randomly. When he opened it the smell of cinnamon filled the room. Malfoy stared at him like he’d gone insane.

'What do you think you’re doing?’ he asked slowly.

'Well, maybe a massage since that’s what Hermione asked me to do and I can’t have a fucking moment of peace in this castle. And since you seem to be unable to even walk I advise you shut the fuck up and take off your shirt so I can see what’s wrong and finish in time for dinner’ Harry looked up to find Malfoy gaping at him.

'Do you even-’

'Yes, I do know how to do it, you prick. And I’m using this one, so take off your shirt’ Harry signaled to the open flask in his hands as he sat down on the far end of the bed.

He didn’t quite know how the oil would help since he’d never used them when he gave massages before. He liked the smell of it, that was all.

Malfoy struggled to sit down. He undid his tie, opened every button and started to take it off, really slowly trying not to move too much, wincing everytime he did. He folded his shirt and put it on the chair beside the bed. Harry couldn’t help staring at the huge scars on his chest he knew he was responsible for. Guilt settled on his stomach as he tore his gaze away.

'Lay down on your stomach’ Harry got up and sat beside Malfoy’s body as close as he could without brushing their thighs. It was ridiculous, he knew, since he would be touching him quite soon. Malfoy did as he was told and stilled, realising what that meant.

And what it meant was that, like that, he was completely vulnerable. He turned his face to Potter’s side and searched the other boy’s face for any sign of danger but all he could see was a frown as Harry dripped the oil in his fingers. Draco felt his cheeks heat up for some reason he didn’t understand.

'I’m going to start’ Potter’s voice was low when he spoke. Before Draco could say anything Potter’s hands were on his shoulders, placed at the same distance from the centre of his back. They were warmer than Draco’s skin, soft and sticky with oil. His breath got stuck on his throat  when Potter squeezed and, even though his lower back still hurt, Draco felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He exaled, relaxing into the matress.

Harry maintained the rhythm for a while, squeazing and releasing Malfoy’s shoulders, his thumbs pressing small circles on the other’s neck as he did. Harry, then, started to let his hands go lower, maintaining the pressing of his thumbs as he did until he reached the high of Malfoy’s kidneys. He stopped there to smear his hands with more oil.

'Where did the pain start?’ Harry found his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

'Hm… my hips’ Malfoy sounded sleepy when he spoke. He was so relaxed Harry had to hold back a giggle. He must really be great at giving massage if it meant even Malfoy was enjoying it.

He stopped shortly.

'Your hips?’ Shit, he wasn’t expecting that. 'Er… okay. I’ll- I’ll need you to lower you trousers a bit.  

'What?’ Draco opened his eyes, snapping out of his daze. What did Potter just say?

'So I can reach your hips. I can’t do much with them in the way’ he said slowly, almost like he expected Draco to start yelling at him.

'So you want me to take off my pants?’ Draco couldn’s believe what the fuck was going on.

'No! Just- Just open it, okay? I can do the rest…’ Draco stopped for a second. He reached for his buttons, opened them and laid down again. He turned his face the other way since he was pretty sure he was blushing. Shit, Potter better know what he was doing.

Harry exhaled gradually. He most definitely didn’t know what he was doing. Well, he did, but he shouldn         ’t be doing this. He should’ve stopped, told Malfoy to go look for Pomfrey and got out of there.

Instead he placed his hands on Malfoy’s lower back again. He rubbed his thumbs in circles there, with less pressure this time, and started to press lower as he did. He reached his trousers but since the buttons were open it hang loose on Malfoy’s hips. Harry let his thumbs go under the waist and Malfoy froze.

Harry exhaled again. 'This will probably hurt but if it doesn’t work I’ll know what I have to do, okay?’ He pulled his trousers lower until he could see the other’s boxers. They were black, just like his trousers. Harry could see the fine blond hair that covered his lower back was up.

'Just don’t break my bones’ His tone was sarcastic.

Harry had his weigh on one knee which was pressed against the matress, both hands on Malfoy’s hips.

'Inhale’ Harry instructed. 'Hold’ Malfoy did as he was told.

'Exhale’ he pushed all his weight on his hands as quickly as he could. Malfoy screamed and Harry cursed. They were panting, Malfoy still too shocked to say anything.

'It won’t work, not like this’ Harry got off the bed to take off his shoes. When he looked back Malfoy was staring at him with a strange expression on his face, fear mixed with something else. Was it anticipation?

'This will work’ Harry got on the bed again and before malfoy could say anything he passed one of his legs over the blond’s body, straddling him. Harry sat on Malfoys thighs, trapping him so he couldn’t turn around.

'WHAT THE FUCK, POTTER?’ Malfoy tried to free himself but Harry pinned both Draco’s hands above his head in a strong grip.

'I’m telling you this will work! Stop fidgeting and shut up!’

But focusing on Potter’s words was hard since all he could sense was the warmth and pressure on his thighs, so close to his ass. He’d never felt anything like that before, something disturbingly intimate and his whole body was reacting as if it was. He closed his eyes, cursing inside his head as blood rushed into his cock. Fuck fuck fuck, this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be…

'Inhale’ Potter’s words resonated closer to his ear than before. He shivered, inhaling as deep as he could. 'You need to relax’ Potter’s voice came out hoarse, his thumbs still tracing circles on his hips. Draco shuddered but felt his shoulders lose tension again.

'Inhale’, Harry repetead. 'Hold’ And Draco did.

Potter shifted on his thighs and Draco almost forgot what he was supposed to do.

'Exhale’ he did it again, placing all his weight in his hands, his thighs pressing hard against Malfoy’s as he did. A loud crack made Harry smile and Draco scream.

And then Malfoy let out a loud moan and Harry lost his train of thought.

Suddenly all the blood in his brain was going down, making his pants too tight. His ears felt like they were full of water when he heard Malfoy hum against the pillow.

'It worked’ Draco breathed, lifting his hips a bit to check if the pain was still there. The motion caused his ass to rub against something hard.

Draco gasped.

Harry moaned low.

Draco’s hips rose up again, higher, rubbing harder against what he knew was Potter and fuck, he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. And then Potter pressed down, literally pressed against Draco’s ass so he could feel it, the whole length even through the fabric. Potter was hard, really hard and Draco felt his own cock twitching at that.

Draco moaned, the sound ringing in Harry’s ears. He should go, he knew he should, but Malfoy was panting, and lifting that roundy ass for him, to rub against him, and Harry saw his face when he turned his head to the side. His cheeks were flushed and lips parted.

Harry pressed again, leaning forward until his mouth was just above Malfoy’s left ear.

'Do you want me to go?’ He needed to be sure, to be certain he wasn’t imagining all that.

Malfoy gasped, his eyes tightly shut. 'No’ He lifted his arm, grabbing Harry’s thigh and craving his nails on it. Harry bit his earlobe, went for his jaw and started sucking there.

Draco’s cock was throbbing beneath him, so hard he was sure he might faint any second.

The next minute the pressure against his ass was gone making a small cry escape his lips. Fuck fuck, Potter must have come to his senses before he did…

His pants were suddenly yanked down to his knees, his boxers with them. The sudden movement ccreating friction against his cock, now leaking on the matress. Draco was sure he couldn’t blush any harder but it didn’t stop him from moaning when hands grabbed his arse cheeks. How come he didn’t know he could get pleasure from there? Potter’s hands were everywhere, squeezing, pinching, scratching the soft skin.

Harry opened his cheeks, exposing his hole and run his thumb there tentatively.

'Ah- ha fuck…’ Draco buried his face in the pillow again. This wasn’t right, this was so fucking wrong, what was he doing moaning for…

'I wanna eat you up’ Harry didn’t mean to let the words escape his lips. His gaze was fixed on Malfoy’s pink hole and when it contracted under his thumb the thought of licking there, fucking him with his tongue, assaulted his mind immediately. Malfoy shivered under him.

'Wh-What are you saying?’ the tips of his ears were even redder from where Harry could see them.

Harry got off of Malfoy’s thighs and pushed them apart. He grabbed Malfoy’s hips again, pulling his ass up a bit. He could see the blond’s cock was hard and swollen, rubbing against the matress. Harry got on his elbows, squeezed Draco’s arse again and bit the already marked skin.

Draco gasped, his head jerking to the side so he could get a glimpse of Potter between his legs. Potter was sucking him at the spot he’d bitten before, his hands massaging the place where his thighs met his ass. He run his fingers there, grabbed his arse cheeks and pulled them apart. Draco drew a sharp breath.

He could hear Harry fidgeting with his own pants followed by the sound of clothes hitting the ground. Draco waved his hand towards the door, a click signalling it was now locked. He couldn’t even begin to think what would happen if anyone decided to come in.

Draco felt something wet, warm and firm press against his hole.

'Fuck fuck, you can’t- ah… ahhhh P-Potter this is…’ he gave a choking moan when Harry began to lick him relentlessly, his own moans reverberating in Draco’s skin.

Harry licked, savoured until his tongue got past the tight ring, and then he was fucking Draco, fucking him with wet and hot thrusts of his tongue. Draco kept pushing  back, gasping as he did, completely out of control.

Harry had never done that before but the second he had laid eyes on Draco’s ass, naked before him all he could thing about was opening him, filing him up to get all those delicious sounds out of him.

Draco moaned, and moaned, louder each time. The words that came out of his mouth were incoherent, interrupted by sharp intakes of air.

'Yes… This- fuck Potter… I-deep-deeper’

Deeper, he wanted it deeper. Harry grasped the tiny flask he’d left on the ground and smeared his fingers with the oil again. He retreated his tongue earning a whimper from Malfoy that turned into a sob the second Harry’s middle finger replaced his tongue, getting in smoothly. Draco gasped, shivering uncontrollably and Harry just stayed there, mouth hanging open at the view. His finger disappeared and reappeared, Malfoy sucking him in while rutting against the matress. Harry curled his finger experimentally getting Malfoy to jolt and scream, throwing his head back. Harry caressed his thigh marked with purple bruises, another finger going inside his hole. The blond hissed but didn’t tell Harry to stop so he thrusted them to the base.

Draco’s brain was shutting down. The lewd sounds filling the room paired with the smell of cinnamon overstimulating his whole body. He wanted more heat, more pressure, more skin against his but the words kept getting lost in his throat everytime he tried to voice his needs. And Potter, fuck, he knew what to do with his hands, with his mouth. That fucking tongue worked like magic inside him. Potter was moving his fingers inside him in a way Draco didn’t even know was possible, scissoring them, thrusting them to the base.

The fingers were suddenly gone. Draco inhalled sharply but before he could complain Potter grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. He laid there on his back, legs spread open, cock dripping with pre come. And Harry stared him down, took in every inch of his light skin shamelessly. Draco felt exposed even though they were both naked. His hole twitched, stretched and leaking all the oil Potter had rubbed inside him and Potter stared. He fucking stared, jerking himself as he did.

Draco grabbed his own cock and began to do the same. It was unfair, having to do it all by himself after all Potter did, that bastard. The gesture caught the Golden Boys’s attention, though, and Draco smirked.

'i want,’ Harry bent down, their chests flushed against each other, his mouth whispering in Draco’s lips. 'I want to put it in you’ he sucked Draco’s lower lip. Holy fuck, he was on the edge already. Potter moved his lips to Draco’s ear and shifted, the head of his cock now poking Draco’s entrance. Draco felt it tingle as Potter cast a protective spell. 'I want to fill you up’ he whispered against his ear.

'Fuck, fuck…’

'Has anyone ever done that?’ he nuzzled Draco’s temple, his glans rubbing against his hole. 'I’m going to take you’ Harry hold his cock steadily as he pushed an inch, stretching Malfoy for him. The blond was panting on his cheek, small sobs inbetween gasps for air.

Harry’s ability to dirty talk, even as his own mind wasn’t working properly was something he didn’t know he could do. He was blushing, panting, but the possessivness he felt made him talk. Malfoy was his, all his, he just never thought that that anger, the rush of adrenaline he felt every time they were close could be hiding something else. He always thought Malfoy was his to take down, to fight against. But he also was his to consume, to bury himself into.

Harry thrust slowly, taking in the tightness, the heat engulfing him. Malfoy was fisting his cock under him, eyes tightly shut and mouth hanging open. Harry stopped Malfoy’s hand with his own and, with a tight grip, trapped them both above his head. Malfoy opened his eyes, his grey irisis thin rings around blown pupils.

'Touch my cock’ he whispered against Harry’s lips, more a command than a pleading. Harry smashed their mouths together instead, refusing to let go of his grip. Draco shivered under him, opened his mouth, let Potter invade his mouth with that tongue. Fuck, that tongue that’d fucked him just minutes ago. And Harry kissed him, his cock deep buried to the hilt inside him. He was full, so fucking full he felt his whole body collapse when Potter started to pull back.

He thrust again, the friction, the pressure, sending shocks of pleasure to Draco’s cock, up his spine, everywhere. Through half opened eyes Draco saw Harry gazing at him, his glasses gone, his lips red, parted as puffs of air escaped them. Harry thrust hard when he realized Draco was staring back. His complex changed immediately.

'I-yes fuck ahh-ah…’ Draco’s whole body was trembling, his ass thrusting back against Harry’s cock, trying to get him to go deeper.

Harry released Draco’s hands, grabbed his thighs instead and lifted them, shoving in until his fingers were numb from the tight grip. He’d leave marks there, crimson lines, and the thought made him moan. Harry bent down again, his mouth reaching Draco’s neck. He sucked him there while he fucked hard and fast. Draco fisted his cock with one hand while the other scratched Harry’s back repeatedly.

His moans were louder now, loud enough Harry was sure people could hear them from outside the dorm. Draco didn’t seem to care, or even realize he was making those sounds.

The next moment Draco was contracting around him, trembling violently and coming on their stomachs. The pressure was enough to send Harry over the edge, his thrusts erratic as he came deep inside Draco.

Draco moaned again when he felt something hot filling him up, Harry’s last thrusts too much to handle.

Harry flopped beside him, his limbs drained of strengh.

'Merlin’ he whispered to himself.

'Yeah’

'That was…’

'Yeah’

They didn’t speak for the next couple of minutes. When Harry got up to leave, though, Draco reached for his arm.

'You could… we- uh… we could…’

Harry kissed him softly, almost clumsily before speaking 'Yeah, I- I’d like that’

***

Draco sat down that evening with Pansy and Blaise at their common room to warm themselves in front of the fire. He couldn’t help wincing a bit when he did.

'What’s wrong? I thought Potter had fixed you back’

Draco felt his face flushing immediately.

'He did! I just…’

'I’m sure he did. Just remember to go somewhere else with thicker walls next time you call him to fix your back’ Blaise didn’t even care to lift his eyes from the book he had in hands.

His cheeks were in flames and the expression on Pansy’s face wasn’t helping.

‘You owe me two favours now!’ She smirked, leaning against the couch like she’d won a bet.

‘What- Why two?’ Draco shifted and winced again at the new burning ache.

‘Because,’ She stuck up a finger like she needed to count all the favours Draco owned her. ‘I found someone to fix your back’ She lifted another finger. ‘And,’

Right that second Potter walked through the portrait followed by Granger and Weasley. He spotted Draco immediately and, well wasn’t that great, strode towards him, leaving Weasley with a confused look and Granger with a knowing one. He glanced at Pancy and saw her waving at the Gryffindor girl. Fucking amazing.

‘Hey,’ Potter stood awkwardly there before sitting on the arm of Draco’s chair. Draco knew his cheeks were already flushed but when Potter bent down and whispered in his ear he was sure he probably looked like a tomatoe. ‘Fancy a game of Wizard’s chess later?’

Pansy was shaking trying to keep herself from bursting out laughing.

‘Your dorm?’ Draco found himself playing with the hem of Potter’s hoodie. The bastard blushed at Draco’s words, but nodded with a smile on his face.

He’d barely turned his back when Draco heard Pansy’s voice loud and clear.

‘And, I got you a cute boyfriend. Two favours!’

***

Ao3 

6

That Would Be Enough, I’ll tell you another very personal story. I wrote that song, probably the fastest song I wrote for the show. I wrote it in 45 minutes. It just… Eliza needed to say it. I had another song I was trying to write and then I was like, “Oh Eliza needs to say this now.”

I was in the Nagoya concert on the 15th but unfortunately, we weren’t allowed to film. There were a lot of jikook moments. In Dope when jk was singing in the first part, Jimin was kinda hugging him. And in 21cg although in the first part nothing really happened, in the second one, they went really close and jk put his hand behind jimin’s head, I swear he went for a kiss, but it was really fast and jimin kept singing and doing the choreography. During Run the best moment happened, Jimin was in the right corner of the stage and JK came really close, they were staring at each other while singing that part with the high note together and then jk leaned forward and their foreheads touched and Jk’s hand was behind jimin’s head. I thought they were going to kiss I can’t even express how happy I was, I am a jikook shipper and I wasn’t going to the Nagoya’s concert, I live in Seoul but I wasn’t able to get the tickets in the beginning of the tour so I was trying to get one from another country, I really like Japan so I bought the Nagoya one, because it was city that I hadn’t  been to. I am so happy I chose this one. My jikook shipper heart is fulfilled.

I realize, that overall, you weren’t worth it. There were moments with you that made me really, really happy; but the majority of the time you shut me out. That’s why I swear I’ll try and get over you. We might have had something really great, but I guess we’ll never know. I’ll never forget the good times I had with you, but I’ll also never forget how you hurt me more than anyone I have ever known.
—  Unknown

anonymous asked:

Just imagine jeep sex w shawn like 😩

MASTERLIST

Look what you made me do…

You were singing along loudly to the radio, swaying your head and looking out the window on the street passing you by. You had graciously been allowed to drive Shawn’s jeep to the airport to pick him up, but the moment the two of you had gotten anywhere near the car, Shawn’s love for his precious jeep took over and once again you were banned to the passenger seat.

You didn’t mind much, to be fair. The only advantage Shawn had by always being the one driving, was that he got to pick the music, but you could live that.

At least this time, he wasn’t blasting his out voice out of the stereo just to annoy you. This time Ed Sheeran’s voice consumed the car.

You tilted your head to the left, catching Shawn’s gaze sticking at you. He smiled widely when he caught your gaze as well.

“Eyes on the road, Mendes!” You hissed at him, but it just made him laugh.

That little crocket smile, you loved so deeply, painted itself on his lips and he was giving you a teasing glance. Aww, your little baby was a bit needy. You grabbed around his chin with your thumb, pushing his face towards the road.

“I said, eyes on the road” You spoke once again, raising your eyebrow at him. Shawn leaned a little further towards you, licking his soft lips slowly.

“I like this view better” he rasped. His voice sounded sore, but the darkness made it even sexier than usually.

“I’m serious… You can drive and snapchat and risk your life on your own, but when I’m in the car? Hell no! Eyes on the road, Mendes” You teased him, letting your thumb caress his chin as you once again pushed his head to the side, forcing him to look out on the road ahead of you.

You watched as Shawn’s smug grew, but he decided to keep his eyes on the road this time. Playfully though, his mouth grabbed your thumb and he bit you harshly.

“Hey!” whined at him, but you only made it worse.

A massive smirk appeared on Shawn’s face and you were certain his eyes were shining.

“Trust me, babe. I can do a lot more than just biting you” Shawn rasped.

He shortly let his eyes fall on you, but then he looked back at the road. You felt the heat rush to your face as you twisted in the leather seat by his words.

“Like what?” you dared him, feeling your cheeks blush massively.

Why did this even make you shy? It wasn’t like Shawn had never talked dirty to you before. Actually, late night calls with Shawn usually consisted of dirty talk.

Shawn turned left on the road and continued driving back home, but he couldn’t help but let out a heavy breath.

“Oh darling, I’ve been gone for so long this time, you can’t even imagine what I’m going to do to you”

“Tell me” you whispered with the heat rushing around your body, leaving your skin tickly.

“Just as eager as me, huh?” Shawn laughed, once again looking at you shortly.

“Aww, and you’re blushing as well” he teased you. You rolled your eyes at him, pushing his face back towards the road.

“Someone needs to teach you how to drive properly” you mocked back.

“Have we ever been in an accident or even close to it?”

“Well no…”

“Then stop complaining about my driving” He yelled.

He wasn’t mad, he was just joking with you. You leaned across your seat and closer to Shawn, almost letting your lips brush against his ear gently, taking a deep breath.

“I’m just keeping you safe, baby. That’s all” you whispered playfully.

You felt every fibre in Shawn’s body tighten and his muscles sudden tense feeling. Oh yeah, you were driving him crazy right now. Shawn’s grip around the steering wheel strengthen and his hands were rubbing it harshly.

“I wish you’d rub me like that” You whispered into his ear once again. You were messing with his mind and you fucking loved it.

You watched as the chills spread across Shawn’s body and how his mouth was suddenly gaping wiped open as he forced in air. Shawn swallowed heavily, letting his gaze catch you from the corner of his eyes.

You bit your lip the moment he turned to look at you, before licking them slowly. Shawn’s eyes were wide open and had a darken tone to them.

“It’s not fair. Stop it” he whispered back at you.

“Stop what?” you asked, innocently.

Quickly, Shawn leaned in and placed a damp kiss on your lips, before pulled back and was focusing on the road again.

“You know what, the teasing”

“Shawn-“ you said defensively, covering your mouth with you hand. “I would never”

“Liar” he laughed back at you.

“We’re home soon” you said, but it was more like a promise.

You let your hand disappear into Shawn’s hair, rubbing his head gently. Suddenly, Shawn made a harsh turn. A turn he wasn’t supposed to take, if he wanted to end up at home.

“Well, soon isn’t fast enough” he breathed heavily.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, looking at him confused.

Shawn made another turn and suddenly he pulled the car up in a empty parking lot near a small supermarket. Before you could react, Shawn had grabbed roughly around your neck and pulled you into his welcoming lips.

His move forced all the air out of your lungs. His tongue spread your lips and slit into your mouth. Only half a second later, you tasted that mix of mint and sweet mango only Shawn tasted like.

Shawn unbuckled your seatbelt quickly, before pulling you across the car and over to sit on his lap. You immediately felt the big bugle between Shawn’s legs, pressing hardly against you.

Shawn grabbed your ass roughly, almost making you moan against his wet lips. You pulled out of the kiss, staring surprisingly at him.

“Shawn, here? We might get caught” you gasped, completely out of breath.

“I swear to you, I don’t fucking care. I’m so hard for you, right now” Shawn’s voice sounded so desperate in this moment.

You let your eyes stick at him for a bit. The heat had rushed to his face, making his cheeks red and his entire face damp. His lips were trembling and he was… well, very hard.

Shawn needed this; right here, right now, in the car. Your mother always told you that those teenage years was made for living a little dangerously, so you figured that maybe she was right.

Shawn looked at you, wanting impatiently for a reaction, actually more like begging for one. It was like his eyes screamed please touch me.

You licked your lip, unbuckling his seatbelt as well. A broad smug spread on his face, but you just rolled your eyes at him. When you thought about it, Shawn had mentioned car sex several times before.

Only seconds after, Shawn’s hands were now greedily placed on your body again, exploring all the places he’d missed for so long. You rubbed yourself against Shawn, feeling his length grow even bigger and even harder through his black jeans.

Shawn’s hand grab around your ponytail, pulling it back roughly so his tongue was able to lick along your bare neck.

You struggled to unbutton his pants for a bit, but to your defence, Shawn’s hands caressing all the right places on your body, made it very hard to function properly. You finally managed to undo them and pulled down his pants a little. It was impossible to take his clothes off in the car, so it would have to do.

Shawn pushed up your dress and gripped around the hem of your panties. Slowly, his fingers ran down your thighs, leaving goose bumps all over your skin. When the panties made it down to your ankles, Shawn grabbed around your hips, helping you to push yourself down his massive length.

You had to support your balance by placing a hand on the roof of the jeep, while feeling Shawn glide even further into you.

Whenever Shawn and you hadn’t had sex in a while, he always seemed much thicker than you really remembered him.

You pushed Shawn further down his car seat as you started riding him roughly. Quiet moans escaped Shawn’s trembling lips and he threw his head back in pure please.

“Fuck” he breathed, once again grabbing around your hips.

His big and strong hands pushed you to move even faster and even harder down against him. Biting your lip, you were able to strangle the otherwise loud whimpers that would have slipped out of your mouth.

You back felt a pain from the steering wheel brushing against your skin, but the pleasure from feeling Shawn so deep inside you covered it up.

Shawn’s thumb ran across your quivering lips and you grabbed for it and started sucking it hard. Your gaze caught Shawn and you couldn’t help but let out a small smile. The pleasure was rushing in over him, leaving him completely consumed by your bodies greedily meeting each other’s.

His dark, curly hair had become all sweaty and sticky and he was struggling to regain control over his breath. His big hands ran down your back, before his nails were digging into your bare thighs, leaving red marks afterwards.

Your mouth found his damp neck and your tongue left a trail from the skin on his neck, to his soft lips. Shawn pushed his lower body up to meet your thrust, which made you bite his lip harshly from the bliss consuming you.

“Holy fuck” Shawn moaned against your skin.

You couldn’t get any words out of your lips, but your screaming certainly assured him you felt the same way. Shawn’s thumb pushed up your chin so he could look at you.

“Kiss me while I cum” he begged, sending you a tiny smile.

Your hands disappeared into his sticky hair and you closed the gap between your craving lips. You rode Shawn harder and he pushed himself up to meet your welcoming and wet body and he thrusted himself further into you, than he had ever been before.

You both reached your breaking point and it collided in a massive scream from the both of you as Shawn exploded inside of you.

Still sitting on Shawn’s lap, you collapsed into his chest. Shawn’s heart was pounding and his chest was burning warm. He lovingly kissed the top of your head, as you rested it against his collarbone. Shawn’s hands wrapped around you and he hugged you tightly.

You were both trying to regain some sort of strength, but this sex had been too good to recover from in the matter of seconds.

“We so need to have car sex more often” Shawn laughed, once again kissing the top of your hair.

You looked up and met his wide childish smile, rolling your eyes at him. He leaned down and kissed your nose tip gently.

“Yeah, we definitely do” you laughed back, cuddling yourself further into Shawn’s chest.

“Another reason to just love this jeep” he said, smiling widely. 

The Culprit

Request: can you do an Archie Andrews imagine with “is that my shirt?” and “my clothes look good on you”? Thank you :)

A/N: ah!! My first request I’m so excited!!  I hope you all like it – I’m happy with how it turned out.  It’s so fluffy and sweet I cried.  This could take place at any time so whenever you want to see it fitting in could work.  Okay I’m also so confused because every time I post that it hides it from the hashtags?  Which is not good?  Anyways, thank you and feel free to request in my messages!

Word count: 715

Warnings: oh god its so fluffy thats literally enough though

Originally posted by fyeahriverdale

The soft sound of a shower running filled your ears.  You were over at Archie’s house, as you often were, laying on your stomach on his bed, happily highlighting a short story for one of your literature courses.  Your legs kicked up and down lightly behind you to the beat of whatever song you were humming.  You were so tuned into your work you didn’t even hear the shower turn off and the whispering patter of footsteps from one end of the hall to the other.  

Archie stood in the doorway, smiling at the sight of you.  Noticing you hadn’t heard him come in, he decided to tease you, taking careful steps toward the bed before belly flopping on top of you.

“Archie!” You squealed, nearly choking on the highlighter cap between your teeth, all air having escaped your lungs at the sudden weight on your back.  Spitting the cap to the ground, you struggled under his body to glare at him.  He giggled, a deep rumble from his chest culminating in a soft sound that made you smile every time you heard it.  “Archie, get off of me!”  Between fits of laughter you attempted to roll onto your back from under him, making eye contact with your assailant and narrowing your gaze.

“Hey babe,” Archie smirked, a playful tone still flowering from his words.

You grinned back, a sparkle in your eyes that set off butterflies in Archie’s stomach every time. “Archie, honey, you’re crushing me.”

“More like crushing on you.” He waggled his eyebrows jokingly

“That’s cute.” You rolled your eyes now, pressing your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to move him.  “Now get off of me.”  He softly rolled beside you, leaning up against you as you rolled back onto your stomach.  Moaning happily, he nuzzled his nose behind your ear and kissed the underside of your jaw.  

Is that my shirt?“ He teased.  You subconsciously pulled the sleeves of the crewneck sweater over your hands as you blushed and nodded.  “My clothes look good on you.

“Thus, why I wear them.”  He pulled away from your ear, looking down to what you were working on.  However, after a moment, he was grinning cheekily again.

“You know there’s been a real dent in my closet since we started dating.  I’ve considered contacting Jughead and sending him on the case, but I think I’ve found the culprit.”  Playing around, you widened your eyes and turned to him.

“Please don’t press charges.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” He cocked his head to one side, unable to hide his smile as he continued. “I’ve been forced to wear the same shirts for weeks.  It’s a real struggle.  This is the inconvenience you’ve caused.”

“I swear, I’ll wear your jersey to school on game days.  Just don’t send me to jail.” He cupped his chin in thought before nodding.

“That seems fair. I don’t really think I could send you away anyways.  Don’t want to go a day without you.” You couldn’t bite your smile back anymore either, and shifted your gaze from him back to your work.

Archie’s smile held up as he stared at your profile, your lip caught behind your top teeth as you focused on the words in front of you.  As much as he’d love to say he was an independent man’s man, he couldn’t deny the fact that you had him tightly wound around your finger, and it was up to debate whether or not you knew it.  

“You’re staring.”

His eyes darted to the sides of hers as he regained focus.  “How could I not?”

You swatted your hand, “Oh stop.”

“Can’t help it.” He grinned cheekily, reaching his hand forward and catching your cheek in his palm.  You subconsciously leaned into it, beaming intently.  “I love you.”  You raised your eyebrows, your chin jutting forward slightly as if insuring he meant it.  Thumb rubbing velvet circles into your skin, he nodded softly.  “I love you.”

I love you.” Your teeth sparkled behind your cracked lips as a soft giggle tumbled from within.  You leaned forward and kissed him, pulling back to utter the words again, and kissing again.  You pulled away for a moment more, sucking in thick breaths.  Eyes flitted to the soft comforter of his bed, before meeting his with another wide smile.  “And your shirts.”

Is This My Shirt?

Peter Parker (Marvel):

Summary: Tony Stark’s daughter Y/N and Peter became good friends after Peter got recruited by Tony and Y/N always clean Peter’s wounds after a rough fight.

A/N: This was neither requested nor planned but I wrote this a few days ago because I just love the combination of Peter Parker and Tony Stark. Maybe I’ll write a second part… so tell me if you like it.

Feel free to send in requests! :)

×××

I woke up to a knock and snuggled my face into the pillow, groaning. I heard the knock again, quicker and louder this time.
I groaned again, stretching my limps before looking to the glass door to the balcony.

I saw Spiderman leaning against it, waving slightly and taking off his mask to reveal his beautiful face. Standing up, I realised that I was only wearing my father’s shirt that covered most of me.

I hesitated but went over to the door, shoving it to the side to open it and Peter fell into my arms, groaning loadly before I could greet him.
“Peter!”, I gasped quietly as I tried to hold his body with my small arms.

“I’m awfully sorry, Y/N. It’s just…”, he began rather loudly, as he pulled himself back, “I, uh, was… there was this guy again…”
“Shhh. My parents are asleep.”, I explained quietly and while he rambled on, my eyes found his black eye and the cuts in his face which I hadn’t noticed before. My hand reached up to his face, my fingertips carefully drawing over the cuts. He shut up the second my fingers touched his skin.

“Oh, God, Peter… are you hurt somewhere else?”, I asked him and he nodded, his hand tracing over his chest down to his stomach.

Without hesitation I pressed the metal spider on his chest making the fabric go loose and sliding down his shoulders. “What the hell? How do you…?”, he exclaimed quietly, grabbing the suit and holding it, not wanting to stand in front of me with only his boxers on. My eyes instantly shot a brief glance on his abs before I looked him in the eyes.

“Come on, Peter, I helped dad while he worked on the suit. I know more about it than you do.”, I laughed softly, but got quiet when I took a closer look to his chest. There was a huge cut over his whole chest and several smaller ones over his stomach.

“Shit.”, I mumbled, pulling him towards my bed and pressing him down, “Let’s take this off and then I’m going to-” “No, wait.”, his hands firmly grabbing mine which were about to take off his suit completely.

“What are doing?”, Peter wanted to know,his voice shaking slightly. “Don’t be so shy, I’ve seen you shirtless before. And honestly, Peter, I’m not wearing a lot more clothes than you.”, I grinned at him but he only looked more shocked.

“That’s not helping…”, he muttered and sighed, “I… I can take it off myself.”

I only nodded, leaving him in my room and quietly wandering through the hallway to get to the bathroom and take a wet cloth.

Getting back to my room, Peter still sitting on my bed, I closed the door. His head turned to look at me, giving me a cute, little smile as I approached him.

Neither of us said a word as I pushed him down on my bed, laying on his back. Neither of us said a word as I cleaned his wounds.
I was hovering above him, being really near his face while I examined his black eye.

He shut his eyes while I traced over the cuts on his face and he flinched everytime, suppressing a groan and probably thinking about how he got all the cuts.

I couldn’t help but let my fingers roam through his brown curls, feeling him tense up. “It’s fine, Peter. You’re safe here.”, I whispered before pressing a long kiss on his cheek. His brown eyes widened instantly, staring into mine but his expression softened as I smiled at him before taking care of the cuts on his chest.

The only sounds that filled my room were his soft groans while I cleaned the huge, deep cut on his chest. It took me a while to finish my work and Peter’s chest had lifted and sank about a thousand times due to his heavy breathing.

But when I finished cleaning his wounds I wasn’t able to look away from his muscular body. I felt the unbearable urge to touch him and my hands reached out before my fingertips danced over his stomach and traced over his abs.

He was so beautiful, I was wondering if this was the body of a god. But one thing I knew for sure: this body took my breath away.

“What are you doing?”, I suddenly heard Peter’s voice and I jumped, pulling back my hand. I looked at him, feeling the heat in my face and opened my mouth to say something but no word left my lips.
I just hoped that he wasn’t able to see me blushing due to the dimmed light.

I cleared my throat when he sat up, looking at me with a flirty smile.
“Is there something else I can help with?”, I wanted to know, my voice even higher than usual.

He wanted to shake his head but then stopped, looking into my eyes all the time.
“Actually…”, he began, “I, uh, was- you know, wondering if I could… maybe stay here? I-I need… uh, I need cuddles. No, I’d like to… cuddle with you… if it’s fine.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. But you have to leave in the morning as soon as possible.” , I responded calmy, though I was a excited mess on the inside. I gave him a slight smile before standing up. “You want a shirt?”, I continued, making my way over to the wardrobe and turning on the light.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”, he said and came over to me into the wardrobe, where I had taken off my father’s shirt, not expecting him to follow me and now standing in front of him with only my underwear.

“Jesus Christ! I’m so sorry!”, he exclaimed, stumbling back against the wall. I randomly picked a shirt before pulling it over my head and took a comfy pair of shorts, putting it on as well.

Peter was still shocked but his gaze was glued to the ground, his face as red as his suit. “Here, put this on.”, I mumbled, ignoring the embarrassing scene and pressing my father’s shirt that I had worn before to his chest.

I turned off the light of the wardrobe, laying down in my bed and waiting for Peter to join me. I watched him, putting on the shirt which was a bit too big for him, as well. “This is weird. I’m wearing Mr. Stark’s shirt…”, he mumbled as he laid down next to me, staring at the ceiling. “Would you prefer sleeping naked?”, I chuckled and he smirked. “Maybe.”, he flirted and looked at me briefly but turned to look at the ceiling again.

I watched him from the side, admiring his facial features “What?”, he breathed, noticing my staring. “I thought you needed cuddles.”, I whispered back and a smile formed on his lips.

There wasn’t another word spoken. He just wrapped his arms around me, my head on his shoulder, my forehead against his head and my hand on my father’s shirt that hid his abs.

My heart beat quickly, while his fingertips traced over my upper arm and I tried to stay awake, wanting to live every second of this. But I was surrounded by his intoxicating scent, the warmth coming from him and our comfy position made me fall asleep almost instantly.

I woke up to the light getting turned on and Peter sitting up but I only groaned, not being awake enough to process what was happening. “Uh, Y/N?”, I heard Peter’s rough voice.
“Peter, it’s too cold without your hot body.”, I mumbled, “Why did you turn on the light?”

I felt him shake my arm and I sat up now, as well, my arm brushing his. I wanted to snap at him but then I noticed my father standing in the door frame. My eyes widened and I quickly looked at Peter, his eyes filled with panic.

“I repeat: What the hell is going on?”, he wanted to know, his arms folded in front of his chest, a strict look on his face.
“Mr. Stark, I swear, we didn’t-”, Peter started and my dad scoffed, “Don’t bullshit me. And hands off of my daughter!”

Peter scooted away from me, taking his warmth with him. “Dad, we were only-”, I began but he interrupted me.

“From this moment on, there’s a line.”, he said after a deep sigh, approaching us. “Dad.”, I moaned but he ignored me.
“Talking, hanging out, hugging. All fine with me, but that’s it. Nothing more than hugging. Understood?”

Peter nodded quickly, “Of course, Mister Stark.”
“Now, get out of this bed, kid.”, my dad sighed and Peter did as he was told, picked up his Spiderman suit and stood in front of him, ready to leave.

“Wait, is this my shirt?”, my dad wanted to know and Peter nodded slowly. “Do you want me to give it back?”, Peter’s hands grabbed the hem of the shirt, ready to take it off.

My dad shook his head, “God, no, just keep it.”

Part 2
Mile High

**NOT MY GIF**

Logan Howlett X Reader

A/N: rip me oml

Words: 2.4K

Prompt: It’s filth man. Pure, unadulterated filth.

Warnings: it’s smut yo, thigh-riding, unprotected sex ( IT WOUDLN’T BE A SHOCK IF YOU WRAPPED UR COCK )  need for holy water, swearing, i think that’s it? maybe? possibly? idk I’m too focused on logan pray 4 me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stryker was an absolute son of a bitch. That much was fact.

Two missions over the span of a week had you pissed beyond limits. Sitting stiffly on one of the seats with the belt strapped tightly around you, rendering you nearly immobile, you kept your eyes focused on your feet, thinking about why you had even wanted to join the general’s secret band of misfits.

Little did you know how Logan was looking at you, with his nostrils flared and jaw clenched as the jet shook lightly from turbulence. He buried his head in his hands, a soft, barely audible groan leaving his lips.

“Will you guys shut the fuck up?” You demanded, growing annoyed at the banter, glaring at Wade’s remark to Victor about his ‘fingernails of a bag lady.’

It was then that you noticed how uncomfortable Logan looked, his eyes glazed over and hands clasped tightly together.

Keep reading

A Hundred Lesser Faces: (Eight)
  • The first section of this story stems from the premise: what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh?
  • The second section will explore the aftermath of Claire and Jamie’s reunion, following their journey as they work to build a new life together. 

Section Two: A Hundred More 

(Eight) 


So close,” that wretched, strangled voice kept choking out over and over again. “Claire—” He kept trying to hold her closer, wrap his body around hers still more completely, searching, searching for her, though he knew she was beneath him. “So—so close—

To losing her. He had come mere minutes, moments away from losing her forever, again, right before his eyes.

Shhhh, darling, I know,” she kept whispering into his hair, his neck, though she was sobbing as hard as he. “I know—It’s—It’s alright, love—” 

“Don’t go…” The snow-flecked dark seemed to spin and scream around him, throwing everything into a hellish whirl that he couldn’t grasp, about to throw him off the very face of the earth. “Claire, ye canna—Claire—don’t—go—” 

“I’m not going—anywhere—” she gasped out, clutching harder around his back. “It’s over, Jamie—All—over….”  She cupped his head so urgently, so tenderly as she cradled him and wept into his shoulder. “Shhhh, it’s alright, love…it’s alright…It’s all over….

He hadn’t let her out of his arms, not for one single moment.

Those minutes on the hill, his body, his heart, his MIND had all been on the verge of shattering from the terror that she was leaving him. The strength—the pure, desperate strength— it had taken to keep upright and to speak, to ask instead of screaming and lunging? Never, not even in battle, had he ever felt something like that: the absolute life of him being ripped apart before him, shred by shred, hope by hope, until he was no more than a bloodied, quivering plea. 

 

But then, she had run to him and he had become flesh again, breathing and needing, with arms that could hold and a soul that could feel joy, this joy, 

and the rest of world had gone still. 


It had been hours—or perhaps only moments—before he’d crumpled to the ground.  Utterly overcome, utterly dissolved in relief and love, in scarce-contained panic, he’d laid her down and covered her like a cloak with his body, surrounding her, trying to convince himself that she was real. 

There, on the frozen ground of the faerie hill, oblivious to the wind and the snow, they’d broken apart in one another’s arms, each kept from vanishing only by the other grasping them tight enough to bruise, from feeling their arms, hearing what words they could manage to gasp out; and it was both everything and scarcely anything at all compared to what they each felt, in those moments. 

“Claire….” 

She felt the same under his hands, exactly the same. It was the same voice—the same gentle hands—the same glorious spirit. She was Claire; and he was going to die from her. 

“Are you shaking from—” She had to stop and get her sobbing breath under control before she could finish. “—from—crying— or cold?”

He truly didn’t know. 

She pushed up his sleeve. “God, Jamie, you’re like ice,” she moaned. He felt her shifting and fumbling about. “Here, put—Take this—”

Though he was still shaking, still barely able to see through swollen eyes, he managed to pull the cloak out from beneath her and throw it over them both, heads and all. It was quite large, of good, thick wool, and a pocket of warmth instantly began to form around them. While he wouldn’t have thought the cold had been affecting him so very much, the change was like a dram of good brandy, rushing through his body from head to toe in an instant. His sobbing eased, his mind began to clear, his breathing slowing to something like a normal pace. He could hear hers doing the same, tapering and settling as the calm and the gentle pool of heat settled over them both. 

He had had both arms around her before they’d shifted, hands gripping her side and twined in her hair, needing in every muscle and fiber of him to hold her. Now, in utter darkness, without even the faint glow of the snow-clouds to illuminate her, he could only reach for her face, needing, paradoxically, to see her, to look into her eye. And the moment his palm came to rest on her cheek— so cold and slick with tears—she gave a little whimpering sound that might have been his name, and she was reaching up for his mouth. He couldn’t stop kissing her; tasting her; touching her; couldn’t stop moaning her name. All the years—All the years of longing for her, and she was here in his arms, sharing his breath. 

“I’m here,” she kept saying back against his lips, knowing that he needed to be told. “I’m here, Jamie….I’m here….”


“When I saw ye,” he said, a long time later, when the world had once more gone quiet, his hand pressed against her heart. “When I saw ye climbing up that hill, Claire—” 

Jamie had found the horse a mile or two back. It was one of the Lallybroch mares, a beast he’d broken himself and would have known anywhere. Terror had driven him all the way from the Lallybroch dooryard, or so he had thought. No, he had only felt the true, ripping claws of it when he had seen that riderless horse and known that he had come too late. The furious minutes of that last hellish gallop were a blank in his memory, but he remembered the ecstatic fury of seeing her up there in the distance; seeing her turning; and then the life dropping out of him once more as she began to sprint upward, away from him, toward the stones.

“What would you have done?” Claire whispered, stroking his face. “If I had kept running?”

“I’d have run faster,” he said with what voice he had left, “and pinned ye to the ground until ye listened to sense.”

She stiffened. “…You’d have stopped me by force?”

He forgot the complete darkness enshrouding them and gave her a look.  “If you’re asking ‘would I have done whatever I could to keep ye running off forever before ye kent all the truth’ you’re damned right, I would. I’d have tied ye hand and foot to a tree, if I had to.”

“You bloody man,” she muttered, and it was not said in fondness. “Nothing changed.”

Anger flared up in him, red-hot and blinding with panic, and he closed his hand tight around her wrist. “You were going to just leave, Claire,” he hissed. “Can ye honestly blame me? God, I’m still so furious that ye would have—Had I not—” He swore, shaking her. “You damnable, foolish wom—

“Oh, is that the way of things?” she snarled at him, her breath hot in his face. “So, when YOU sacrifice your own feelings and well-being for love, it’s noble and right, but when I do, I’m just a ‘foolish woman?’”

“That’s—Damn you, that isna at all—”

She yanked herself out of his grasp. “Can you honestly tell me, James Fraser, that if the circumstances were reversed—if you’d somehow found your way to 1968—found that I’d married someone new—heard I’d had a child by him and was by all accounts blissfully happy—you’d have just waltzed right in and thrown yourself at me? You’d truly have put me in that position?”

Jesus.

“No,” he moaned, defeated, as the true tragedy of what she’d been planning to do for his sake settle around him. “No, I….I couldna have put ye through such a choice.”

“Well, I bloody couldn’t do it to you, either,” she spat at him, sobs starting to shudder through her again in her rage. “No matter how much—much it tore me apart to—”  

“Oh, lass….” He felt her convulse and cover her face with both hands, as though she might hide from the terror of what they’d so nearly lost.  “No,” he moaned, gathering her tight against his chest, covering her again, the intimacy between them knitting together once more. “No, it was noble what ye meant to do, Claire. If what Jenny told ye had been true, it would have been right. I—Christ, that ye would have done that for my sake…Thank you.” 

‘”Jamie….”

“We’ve been lucky, Sassenach.” He rocked her softly, buried his face in her hair as she wept.  “God….we’ve been so lucky, today. We were in the right places at the precise right moments to find one another again.” He kissed her, softly hushing as she had done for him. “And now, it’s all over, just as ye said… We’ll never be parted again, I swear it, Claire.” He sealed the promise with a kiss in the hollow of her neck. 

Not ever.


“But what—what will we do?” she managed, voice taut with worry. “About Laoghaire? The girls?”

What will we do, indeed?

“I dinna ken….not precisely,” he admitted. 

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence,” she said, with a tremulous smile in her voice. 

Lovely wee smartarse. 

“We’ll find some arrangement that separates me from Laoghaire as honorably as can be managed. You and I are still man and wife, after all. That must count for something wi’ the law.” 

Wife. His wife. 

Lord have mercy upon his soul, WIVES. 

“It will be a tricky business, Claire, and I’ll no’ say it will be over quickly, but I will fight for it with everything that I have.”

“What if it can’t be managed honorably?”

He exhaled. “Then I shall find a way to reconcile wi’ dishonor.”

She choked out a laugh and held him tighter, sighing in deep relief. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. At least we’ll be in hell together, eh?”

“And a happy damnation t’will be.” 

A warm, pulsing happiness had pushed away the tears from their sanctuary, and he suddenly wondered how long he could keep his eyes open amid such peace. He’d slept scarce more than an hour at a time on the ride from Lallybroch, and only then when he could no longer stay upon the horse. Each and every time, he’d awoken in a dead-panic that he’d slept overlong, leapt right into the saddle, and repeated the harrowing process over and over, pushing himself to the very limits until he reached Craigh na Dun. 

It wasn’t merely the actual fatigue—it was the relief. Many a time in his life—from battlefields to his examinations in the Paris days—he had witnessed the body’s incredible stamina to push through lack of sleep, of food, and of physical strength. It will go to incredible lengths to complete the task at hand, to survive. When the deed is accomplished, though, it takes its own, and fairly well damns the consequences. Jamie was hungry, true, but that could wait. Sleep, though…No, that could wait as well. In the growing warmth of her body and his together, captured by the warm cloak, it was harder and harder by the minute; but he didn’t want to miss a single moment with her. Not one. 

“Will you tell me….” It was such a tiny voice that asked it; so tentative and careful. “…why Laoghaire?”

He stiffened, steadied himself with a breath. It was a fair question.

“She was…there,” he hazarded, “at the right time, when I was come back to Lallybroch. It was Jenny’s idea, ken?”

“Mm.” A great deal unsaid in that mm, perhaps having to do with the destructive nature of Jenny’s ideas of late.

“She seemed—sweet, I suppose. Eager, and—Wi’ the wee lassies to feed, she needed me; and I needed—I needed something, too.

Claire didn’t say a word.

“I am sorry, mo chridhe. I ken it’s—painful.” 

“Oh?” 

“Well, I certainly dinna delight in thinking of the men that have shared your bed.”

To his surprise, she bristled. “It’s not that she was another woman, Jamie. It’s that it was her.” 

“I do ken she was quite the jealous brat, all those years ago, at Leoch,” he said, carefully, at something of a loss. “But she was naught but a wee lassie at the time. Surely ye can forgive her a few youthful indiscretions?”

“Youthful ind—?” He heard her choke back whatever retort she had planned and instead breathe through her nose, calming herself. She was being careful, so careful, but there was true indignation, there, true hurt, kept in check for his sake.

“Say it, mo ghraidh.” He touched her face, bent down to kiss her. “Tell me what it is.”

“Wouldn’t it trouble you,” she said, very quietly, “if had chosen to marry someone who’d gone out of their way to have you hurt and killed?”

“Killed?” 

“Cranesmuir? Surely you remember that little episode?” 

He felt a jolt run through him. Then it walloped him over the head like a brick. “Laoghaire? She was—?”

“Jamie, she was the one who arranged for me to be taken with Geillis Duncan, that day, for Christ’s sake! You knew that! Surely we discussed it??”

“We certainly DID NOT. Sassenach! BELIEVE me, had I I known, I would never have taken her to wife. NEVER.” He gripped her tight, as though he could look into her eyes. “Had I KNOWN….Christ, the wicked wee bitch!

She laughed at that. “Well good, I’m—That’s a burden off my mind. I’d certainly have understood if you’d remarried. I did understand, until you mentioned her name. Lord,” she laughed, groaning. “Laoghaire bloody MacKenzie. Laoghaire….Fraser.” 

Lord forgive him, he had given Claire’s would-be murderess his name, shared her bed. “I’m—I’m truly so ashamed, Sassenach.” He felt as though he would vomit. “I’m so sorry for this. After what she did—” 

“Don’t be,” she said at once, and he heard the sincerity in her voice. “You didn’t know, and would have had no reason to ask. It’s water under the bridge. Though,” she said with good humor, “I do reserve my right to make snide comments from time to time, at her expense only, not yours.”  

“’Tis only your due,” he laughed weakly, grateful for the gift of levity, which did help the anxiety and shame abate. 

“Jamie, can I ask, does it….?”

More to do with Laoghaire, surely. 

“Does it what, mo nighean donn?”

“Does it frighten you? How—easy this is?” She touched his chest. “Like it was only yesterday we last saw each other?”

He released the breath he had been holding and touched her face. “It frightens me only insomuch as it makes my heart feel whole again; and it hasna been for a verra long time. It frightens me to feel that I must learn anew how to hold all these emotions in my heart, once more. But the comfort and the—us-ness between us? I couldna ever be frightened by that; no more than I could be frightened of my own voice.” He gently laid his palm flat against her breast. “Mo chridhe.” 

She traced the lines of his collarbone. “I very nearly went to Edinburgh first, you know.”

“Aye, ye said, in the…your letter.”

It was tucked away in his satchel, along with the PhotoGraphs; and he would keep it, always, but he wasn’t altogether sure he could bring himself to read it again. 

“All the way here from Lallybroch, after I spoke with your sister, I wondered if I ought to have gone there first.” She paused. “Do you think it would have been easier on us? If I had just appeared through your shop door?” 

“It would have given me back a hank of grey hairs that I’ve gained in the last week.”

She laughed, but was not to be dismissed. “What would you have done?” 

He’d have been toiling away at the presses, no doubt, with no notion of great happenings about to take place. Perhaps Fergus might have been present, but most days it was him alone in the shop. What would he have done, when he’d heard her voice with no warning? He’d likely have fainted, as he nearly did at Jenny’s news…but beyond that? What would he have done with Claire Beauchamp before him, alive and well and glowing like the June sun, ready and willing to spend the rest of her days with him? 

“I ken I wouldna have told ye all the truth…about Laoghaire and William.”

“Oh? Why should that have changed?” 

“Is it no’ clear? I’d have been so scairt that it would be too much to hear.” He shook his head in growing conviction. “For all the terror and the near-missing in the way things did come to pass, at least I was able to tell ye all, Claire, wi’ no hesitation. There was nothing more to be lost and so I was able to just say everything, some things I hadna ever once spoken aloud to everyone! It just—The truth was the only thing that could keep ye from going. And so while I canna say this is precisely how I’d have wished things to occur, everything is known between us, now, and that is right. Do ye see?” 

“It was a gift to both of us, in its way,” she whispered, “though I know it wasn’t easy.”

“No.” He squeezed her hand, feeling the fine bones and the unbearable silkiness of it. How he wished he could see her. “But if ye’d come upon me in Edinburgh, so far from home, from Laoghaire, wi’ me living under a false name already…. Lord, if you’d just arrived there before me? Handed me the moon and offered this miracle of which I’d vainly dreamed for so long? Could I have told ye I had a son? Could I have told ye was marrit and risked ye leaving at once?” He swallowed, ashamed of the truth, but knowing it was truth all the same. “No. I’d have kept it from ye as long as possible. Maybe forever.”

“No you wouldn’t,” she said with immediate, easy confidence. “You’re too much of a noble hero-type to have conscienced any such thing, Jamie Fraser, and you know it.”

God, does she truly believe that? 

A new terror gripped him and he felt his mouth go utterly dry. 

The man he had been these last years—James Fraser or Alexander Malcolm or whoever he might be when he was alone only with his thoughts—had been shaped so deeply by grief and bitterness. Crushed first in the loss of her and the bairn; then laid low by the years of hiding and imprisonment, the strain of clearances upon his family; then William, first the fear of him, then tentative joy, and then the loss, forever; and finally rushing up that crest of hope, that desperate hope that something good was to be found in marrying again, and the ache of crashing down onto the sharp realities below. 

Claire held in her arms a man bitter and broken. Was he one that she could love, really love, once the euphoria of reunion had worn away? Was the shattered man he had been merely a relic of loneliness that would now vanish with her presence? Or would traces remain? Perhaps the Jamie she had loved had ceased to be and could not be revived. In fact, he was certain that it was not so very far from the truth.

“I’m none so very noble as ye might wish to believe, Sassenach.”

He felt her stiffen. 

“Perhaps it’s that I’ve lost too much to honor, or….I’m…” He withdrew, trying to touch her as little as possible as he got the words out. “Ye must ken I’m not altogether the same man of twenty years ago, Claire.”

“You are.” 

“But I’m truly not, Claire. I wish to be, will endeavor to be, for your sake; but I have…. such fears.” 

The wind had ceased to wail outside their cloak shelter. He could hear every intake and exhale of her breaths. 

He suddenly felt her hand, cool and sure, touching his cheek, the other coming to rest on the curve of his breast. “Is your heart still mine?”

God, Claire. 

“Yours,” he croaked. “Yours, mo nighean donn. Never did it stop being so.”

“Then, we’ll manage with the rest. All the rest.” She cupped the back of his neck to pull him down closer. “I see what you fear, what you dread you are. Perhaps I couldn’t have seen it, if I’d found you in Edinburgh; but I’m here now, and I see you.” 

She saw him. Even in darkness, Claire saw him. 

I love you, Jamie Fraser.”

And though that was a point on which he had never held the faintest doubt, the hearing of it now, her declaration, his true name…. 

To be seen, and yet still be loved. 

Tears came, fast and many, and he made no move to halt them. She pulled him down to her breast, murmuring love over him again and again as sleep pressed itself upon him, her hands holding him. He could sleep, at last. Claire was watching over him.

anonymous asked:

Number 16 with jungkook please :)

Prompt: “Give me a reason not to turn around and walk away now.”

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst + (eventual) Fluff

Summary: You drop by BigHit to check on your boyfriend, Jungkook, when you find him in a compromising position with another girl.

Word count: 1.1k

-

You pulled your hood tighter around your head as you walked through the pouring rain. The sun had set almost an hour ago, and a deep chill was settling into your bones.

You and Jungkook were supposed to have met for dinner two hours ago. In the four months you had been dating him, Jungkook had forgotten or been late to numerous dates. Of course, you forgave him easily. You knew his role in BTS would always be prioritized over your relationship, and that was something you supported.

But you thought you should drop by the BigHit building, just to let him know you were going to head home.

By the time you reached the back entrance of the BigHit building, you were shaking like a leaf. The heavy rain had drenched through your coat completely. Typing in the punch code Jungkook had given you, you slipped into the building.

You found yourself in the back of the lobby. To your left, there was a staircase leading up. You hurried up the stairs, wincing as the sound of your wet, squeaky shoes bounced throughout the building.

The practice rooms were on the third floor, and that’s where you figured Jungkook would be. As you entered the familiar hallway, you were met by a sweat-drenched Hoseok.

“Oh, Y/N!” Hoseok exclaimed with a sunny smile. He swung a damp arm around your shoulders, and you scrunched your nose as you ducked away from the sweaty man. “Looking for Jungkook?”

“Yep,” you replied, your attempts to escape Hoseok’s embrace failing. “Do you know where he is?”

“He should be in the last room down the hall,” he said. Then he looked at you and frowned. “Are you alright? You’re freezing.“ There was a pause as the gears turned inside Hoseok’s head. “Did Jungkook forget another date?” Hoseok accused, disappointment clouding his expression. You nodded sheepishly. “This kid! Don’t worry, I’ll talk some sense into him.”

“Don’t worry,” you laughed, finally slipping out of Hoseok’s arms. “I’m not upset. Just want to let him know I’m going home.”

Hoseok nodded and shooed you away, but his features were still pinched with worry.

You hurried down the hall, feeling your heart flutter with the prospect of seeing Jungkook. As you neared the last practice room, you could hear the low thrum of music playing from inside. Once you reached the door, you turned the handle and slipped inside the room.

The sight that met you had your heart plummeting.

Jungkook was lying on the ground, on top of another girl–one of BigHit’s trainees. His arms bracketed her head, supporting his weight so that his body didn’t fall on her. Both of their heads turned towards you at the sound of the door opening.

Jungkook’s eyes widened as they met yours. He scrambled to his feet, fear evident on his face, and he jumped to explain himself.

However, you didn’t want to hear any of it. Spinning on your heel, you rushed out of the room. Everything seemed to wash away–you couldn’t see or hear anything. You could only feel, and it felt like Jungkook had just ripped your heart out with is bare hands. A quiet sob fell from your lips.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed yours and pulled you backwards. The same hands turned your body, leaving you and Jungkook face to face. His panicked eyes searched yours, remorse written all over his face.

“Y/N, stop,” he begged, his voice rough. “Please don’t cry. Just-just listen to me.”

“Give me one reason not to turn around and walk away right now,” you cried, your voice breaking.

Jungkooks hands immediately jumped to your face, cupping it gently. He wiped away the tears that fell. “I love you, Y/N,” Jungkook choked out, his eyes watering, too. It was the first time he had ever said it. “I love you so fucking much. I’m so, so sorry. I swear-I swear on my life I would never hurt you like this.”

“Then how can you explain what I just saw?” you whispered, weakening in Jungkook’s warm embrace.

“I was just helping that trainee with a dance when we collided and fell,” Jungkook explained hurriedly, drawing you in closer once he realized you were listening. “It’s for a stage happening in two months, I swear. Y/N, y-you have to know. I love you. You’re everything to me. I would never give up what we have.”

“Okay,” you breathed, your head dropping. “Okay.”

Finally, Jungkook pulled your trembling frame completely into his arms. He tucked you against his chest, arms wrapping around you protectively.

“Do you forgive me? Fuck, I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please,” Jungkook said hoarsely, his voice shaking as if he was crying, too. “I’ll never hurt you again, I swear. Don’t leave me, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m sorry.”

“I-I forgive you,” you replied after a few moments of silence. Sobs were still wracking through you, but you could feel your shattered heart piecing itself back together. “It’s okay. I believe you.”

Jungkook hugged you tighter, if that was possible, and began pressing kisses against the top of your head. “Y/N, why are you so cold?” Jungkook asked, finally taking in your state properly. “You’re drenched.”

“We planned a date today,” you explained hesitantly, your voice muffled as you pressed further into the nook of Jungkook’s neck. “We were supposed to have dinner awhile ago.”

“Shit,” Jungkook cursed. He pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours. “Were you waiting for me? That’s why you came?”

You nodded slightly, and felt Jungkook’s body shake as he tried to contain his own tears.

“I’m a fucking mess, Y/N,” Jungkook spat, disgusted with himself. “I don’t deserve you, not now not ever. How can you still be mine?”

You tilted your head up and placed a gentle kiss on Jungkook’s lips. “I forgive you,” you repeated. “Nobody’s perfect, and I don’t expect you to be.”

“No,” Jungkook argued, “you’re perfect, Y/N. You’re so fucking perfect. I just don’t understand.”

“I’m not perfect, either,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s neck, “but maybe we’re perfect for each other. I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook returned your smile with one that was a thousand times brighter. He lifted you up easily, kissing you fully on the mouth. This kiss tasted like tears and rainwater, but it was the best you’d ever had.

“I’ll make it up to you, Y/N,” Jungkook promised once you pulled apart. “I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life.”

- Girl in Luv

Thanks for reading! Send more requests our way if you liked this imagine. Check out our prompts post for inspiration xx

Jughead Jones x Reader: Relationship Status

Request:

Can I request a Jughead x reader where they are dating and just haven’t told anyone but they always hold hands/other cute couple stuff. And Veronica (or anyone else in the group) asks if they’re dating with one of them (Jug or the reader) replying with something like “We are? Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

A/N: This one was bit cute to write so I hope you guys enjoy it.  Going through a bit of writers block at the moment so I hope you guys like it and it’s not too crappy and that the requestor is happy about it.

Words: 1407

Summary: You and Jug have been friends all your lives and you start dating but don’t tell your friends because of recent events in Riverdale. Veronica wants you guys to date so bad not knowing you guys are.

Spoilers: Veronica is bisexual in this imagine.

Warnings: N/A

You and Jughead had been inseparable since as long as you could remember. The days you guys weren’t together were slim to none.

As you grew older you realized you had feelings for the beanie obsessed writer. You guys were too close for him not feel the same.

It was a troubled day when you chose you were going to talk to him about how you felt about him. The nerves occupied your body as you made your way to the park to see him.

This is the day you repeated to yourself all the way.

It was like the world knew you were destined for each other because that memorable day Jughead had set up a picnic. Which made you question what was going on because other than you, his laptop was his other most loyal companion. He never let it out of his sight and he told you to meet him up because he wanted you to see what he was writing.

Turned out Jughead felt the same way and you guys started dating ever since, but you guys never got to tell any of your friends with all the mayhem that resided in Riverdale.

A lost soul, the murder of Jason Blossom on July 11th as the coroner stated after his body was found in the now vacant Sweetwater River.

You both had talked about telling them after the funeral but that just seemed selfish, but you guys were always linked to each other so maybe it didn’t make a difference. The only change now is that you guys kiss although Jug is not big on PDA, so you only ever held hands and hugged, the usual.

__

Jughead found a new topic to write about, Jason. You and Betty helped out find justice for the red-haired boy who left the world too quickly.

Jughead was sitting with you in his usual booth at Pops as he wrote and you talked about the murder case and anything that came to mind. You both always seemed to be in your own bubble. When you were together it was as if you were in your own parallel universe.

In the other side of the diner was Betty and Veronica chatting away while enjoying a strawberry and chocolate milkshakes with fries.

“So those two, what’s their deal?” Veronica added to their conversation.

“Honestly we don’t know, they look completely in love with other” Betty chimed in as Kevin came in and sat with them.

“What’s up? What’s the topic?” he spoke

“(Y/N) and Jug” Betty answered

“Ah the Lovers” Kevin chimed in as he ordered his food

“So you think there is something there too” Veronica cheered

“Oh please you’d have to be oblivious to not see the sparks and lighting bolts around them” Kevin continued.

“They have been inseparable since as long as we can remember, she’s the only one that has ever worn his beanie” Betty noted as Veronicas jaw dropped.

“What?! But he doesn’t even take that thing off, I swear he showers with it” the raven haired girl chuckled as Archie was coming into the diner.

“Arch” Betty motioned to the ginger to sit with them.

“Hey, what’s up I was going to talk to Jug” he declared.

“And ruin their moment” the blond spoke motioning to you and Jughead sitting on the same side of the booth giggling away and Arch just smiled.

“I swear I don’t know why they just don’t date they’re-, uh- what’s the word?” Arch added sitting next to Veronica.

“In love” Veronica giggled.

“Smitten” Betty cooed as she rested her head on her hand.

“Yes that one Bets, smitten” Arch blurted and they laughed but that still didn’t compare to the laughs that were radiating from the other side of the diner coming from you and Jughead.

“Honestly what are we going to do about them?” Veronica questioned.

“What do you mean?” Kevin asked.

“We have to get them together” Veronica confessed.

“Oh no” Betty admitted

“Why not?” Veronica added

“You are so new Ron” Kevin announced

“Jug and (Y/N) don’t like people meddling in their lives” Arch concluded.

“Well then we don’t push them together, but we can show them that there is other opportunities” Veronica stayed on topic as the others gave her puzzled looks.

“Well you guys said not to push them, so I’ll give them a little nudge” she continued.

“What nudge?” Betty asked with a smile.

“We get someone to ask them on a date, someone for Jughead and someone for (Y/N)” Veronica argued.

“Doubt it will work” Arch spoke as he took a bite of his burger.

“Yeah what if they say no to those people” Betty gave a small smile.

“Plus who were you going to get to ask them out? No one would dare separate those two” Kevin assured.

“Me and Arch” Veronica stated confidently and Archie choked on his soda.

“Hell no! Jug would kill me, she’s off limits” Archie said as he recovered then gave an expression that showed he had said too much.

“What do you mean off limits Andrews?” Veronica broke the silence.

“No nothing, I uh- I just meant she’s Jug’s best friend” he tried to rescue himself.

“No no, tell us what you know” Kevin declared as him and the girls gave him a devilish smirk.

“Will you look at the time, I have got to go” Archie decided about to stand up and veronica grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down.

“Spill it Andrews” She commanded.

“Jug uh- he’s gonna hate me” Archie said as he scratched his neck “he- uh- he’s got a thing for (Y/N) since like forever, he talks about her constantly and one time I told him if he didn’t do something I would ask her out just playing around and he literally made me swear to leave it alone and she was his if it ever happens. You cannot tell a soul about this if Jug finds out he’ll never talk to me again and (Y/N) well I don’t know how she’ll react” he confessed as they all had smiles plastered on their faces.

“Oh we have got to do something now, he likes her and she is obviously head over heels for him” Veronica cheered.

“But what? If it goes wrong they’re gonna hate us” Betty took a sip of her milkshake.

“Count me out, me and Jug are finally talking again” Archie declared.

“Sorry gay” Kevin spoke as Veronica turned to him and they chuckled once again.

“You could ask out Jug and I ask her out” Veronica smirked.

“Oh honey no, Jug’s cute but not my type. You could totally ask out (Y/N) though you bisexual queen” Kevin smiled and Veronica giggled.

So the group made their way to the other side of the diner to see what would unravel.

“Hey guys” you spoke as you saw them sit down with you and Jug.

“What’s with the grins?” you asked them confused as to what they wanted.

“Um (Y/N)” Veronica spoke as she took your hand and you gave her a puzzled look and Jughead gave the same look.

“What are you doing?” you asked Veronica as Jughead placed his arm around you.

“(Y/N) um- Will you- um- uh, Oh my god! I can’t!” Veronica pleaded and everyone except you and Jughead started laughing and you turned to Jughead and them so oblivious to what was going on.

“Can’t what?” you decided you wanted some answers as you laid your head on Jughead’s shoulder.

“Ron was gonna fake ask you out” Kevin retorted as Veronica stared at him with wide eyes.

“What?!” you questioned as she gave you a small smile.

“I just wanted to see your reaction, everyone says you and Jughead are two peas in a pod and I see it too, but ugh- I- I just want you guys to date. You guys would be my otp” Veronica rambled.

“I could’ve sworn we were going out though” Jughead stated as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and you smiled as the whole table gasped, shocked expressions plastered on their faces.

“Go Juggie” Archie encouraged as he motioned to Jughead for a high five.

“Oh my, Yes” Kevin cheered.

“Congrats (Y/N), you guys are so amazing together” Betty smiled.

“Happy now Ron” you implied to a still shocked raven haired girl.

“Best day in Riverdale so far” Veronica exulted.

@sgarrett49 @oharchiekinz