and trace every inch of it with my fingers and lips

Cuddling With Fred Weasley Would Include:
  •  You two would be constantly making up excuses to cuddle
  • “Love, that Quidditch match really took a toll on me… can we cuddle in my dorm?”
  • “I’m pretty sure I failed my Potions test, Fred. Can we cuddle so I can take my mind off it?”
  • Laying together on Fred’s bed during rainy days
  • Falling asleep in each other’s arms
  • Fred’s fingers tracing random patterns along your skin
  • George always accidently walking in on the two of you
  • “Hey Fred you want- ugh not again! I swear, do either of you ever leave that bloody bed?”
  • Endless conversations about the universe, the future, magical creatures, Muggle morals, and other arbitrary topics
  • Fred kissing every inch of your face
  • “Ah- Fred s-stop… it tickles!”
  • Straddling Fred’s waist and pressing your lips firmly against his, taking him by surprise
  • Constantly changing positions
  • Arguing over who gets to be the little spoon
  • “But darling you’re always the little spoon-”
    “It’s not my fault you’re abnormally tall.”
    “Well it’s not my fault my girlfriend is as tall as a first year.”
  • Struggling to wrap your arms around Fred’s frame when you finally agree to letting him be the little spoon
  • Fred poking his tongue out at you and due to the closeness accidently licking your cheek
  • “Fred! You’re disgusting!”
    “Don’t be like that, Y/n. I know you love it.”
  • No two cuddle sessions being the same
  • Fighting over the blanket
  • Moving Fred’s bed towards the window so you two can watch the rain fall on rainy days 
  • Your clothes slowly being discarded as the heat becomes unbearable
  • Eventually just cuddling in your undergarments
  • “I like your cute lacy bra, love. It really makes your… eyes pop.”
    “Stop it you cheeky bastard.”
  • Fred casually pinching your butt when you’re about to doze off
  • Hermione snatching photos of Fred and you when you two aren’t paying attention
  • Leaving trails of kisses along each other’s chest and necks
  • Falling asleep with your foreheads pressed against each other
  • Subconsciously playing footsies
  • Interlocking your hands together
  • In some cases your essentially harmless/innocent cuddles take a more… sexual turn
  • Giving each other hickies when things turn dirty
  • Lazy cuddles
  • Tickle fights
  • Sweet talk
  • Fred refusing to let you leave despite how late it is, insisting that you spend the night

-Daizy xx

He traced his fingers across the exposed flesh of her back. She sighed into his touch and he paused, “I want to run my fingers over every inch of your skin I’m allowed to touch. I want to find what makes you tick.”

His fingers found a sensitive patch along her spine and she arched into his palm. A smile bloomed across his lips as he had finally found the clasp to the pocketwatch of her body. Now he could admire it’s workings one cog at a time, as he would make her come completely undone in his hands.

—  [s.bucks]
#77 // excerpt from a book I’ll never write
Tattoo Artist Luke

The feather down sheets rest over your body, as you lay with your head on Luke’s chest; legs tangled together, you could feel his soft heartbeat as the warmth your bodies radiated off each other. You traced your fingertips along the edges of the pictures that stained every inch of his skin.
“Which one’s your favourite?” You whispered
He tilted his head down placing a soft kiss atop your head. “It’s one I’m planning to get”
“If you haven’t got it yet, how do you know your favourite?”
“Because baby, it’s going to be the first letter of your name. right here” he whispered rubbing his ring finger
Tilting your head up at his, you lightly touched your lips to his, smiling at the interaction. “Why there?” You spoke against his lips
“I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, y/n. And when I’m working I can’t wear a ring”
“You plan on marrying me, Hemmings?”
He pulled you closer and rest his forehead against yours. “Tattoos are forever darling, and I know we will be too”

For anyone who thinks they are not worthy of love;
I just have to tell you I used to think exactly the same. I used to think my curvy hips and frizzy hair could never be the object of anyone’s affection. I thought I had made far too many mistakes and my words were too much like poison to soothe another human. Now I have a boy who’s very eyes are made of milk chocolate that looks at me with lust dripping from his smiling lips. He holds my hips and softly kisses my quivering lips as if I am giving him breath I do not even have. So please know that some day you will find a person with sunshine in their finger tips and constellations in their eyes that will longingly trace every inch of your skin. They will love every broken cell and place delicate kisses on your wounds. They will look at your Body like a temple used to hold the god they worship. The will worship you through Eye contact and say prayers against your lips. They will see forever written like a novel on your fair and imperfect skin. I promise you this because you are simply a museum of undiscovered art. You are a museum tucked behind a corner on an abandoned street waiting for one unsuspecting art lover to stumble across you. You are not perfect, art never is. Art is beautiful and tells a story like you tell from tear stained bloodshot eyes. Someday soft lips will crash on yours like a meteor hurling from space but instead of shattering you they will fill you up. Slowly with every kiss, they will breath your very being into your empty Lungs. Slurred words will teach you that you are worthy of the space you take up.

Her freckled face reminded me of the constellations, with my finger I traced each dot from her nose to her lips – I could feel her electricity in my fingertips. She spoke to me in English and kissed me like the French, her body is my subject and I am studying every inch.

She told me love needed no explanation and that hate is a never ending course. Her soft hands could heal a nation and her calm eyes could end wars.

I promised her the moon and all the distant planets – as I wrote her name with alphabetic fridge magnets. She told me that we are living on borrowed time – I told her that I couldn’t be bothered as long as she is mine.

She gave me her body and asked if I would still love her tomorrow, if ever I lost her love I’d be declared the king of sorrow. To die on her lips is my one and only wish, my hearts heavy with the fact that she doesn’t exist.

This one is just a small thought I had while travelling and I noticed a woman with the most beautiful freckled face I’ve seen. I find my inspiration in the strangest places.

—  Mpho Lebohang Mokhele, “Untitled”
Hold Me Down

Harry Styles One-Shot

Recent Writing | Masterlist

Word Count: 6,014
Warnings: smut & language
Badlands Series 9/16

Now

“I can’t believe you snuck out of there for me.” A chuckle left my lips as our hands worked simultaneously and quickly to strew each other’s clothes across the room.

His lips worked on my neck, making me groan. “Why wouldn’t I?” I felt him smile against my skin and closed my eyes in enjoyment.

“Won’t she wonder where you are?” I asked breathlessly and felt him shrug. By now our clothes were finally gone. I grazed my hands across his chest, reaching them behind his back, my fingertips feeling every speck of him. Every inch of him made me sweat.

Harry chuckled deeply, removing his lips from my body and lifting his head to hover over mine. I traced my fingers up to his cheeks, peeking down at his lips, having the hardest time breaking the trance they put me in. “Well,” He smirked down at me, “we’ll have to be quick then won’t we?” My thumbs toyed with his lips, plucking at them, feeling their curve under them. I trailed my gaze to his eyes, matching the pleading look written all over his face. I was used to quick.

I stared up at him, leaving my fingers in their place, but allowing my eyes to search all over him. I sucked in breath that weighed more then I thought it would. “This is so bad…” I muttered, my voice was barely audible, but I knew he could hear me. The smirk upon his lips disappeared as they parted. His eyes gazed down at me in sympathy.

Keep reading

No Interruption (Gilinsky Imagine) (Smut)

can u do an imagine where your getting it on with Jack G and then Jack J walks in

Jack put me on his back, bringing me to his bedroom.

“But what if Johnson hears?” I ask Jack, but he only laughs at me.

“He’s not home” Jack says, laying me down on his bed.

I giggle at him and agree, and let Jack attempt to seduce me.

Jack’s lips trace my hip bones, kissing every inch of my stomach. I giggle at him and put my fingers in his hair, letting his actions relax me.

Jack moves down lower, pulling at my pants to remove them. He finally gets them off and smiles at me with wide eyes filled with pleasure.

“You’re so gorgeous” Jack says admiring my body. I laugh at him and remove my shirt swiftly, laying back down on my back.

I look up at Jack who is now propping himself above me without any clothing. I look down at his bare skin and blush at his size.

“Are you ready babe?” Jack asks sitting back up after kissing me.

I nod at him and trail my hands down his torso, feeling his length in my hands.

I smile at him and tell him to “hurry up” Jack smiles at me and begins to rub my thighs, making my body tremble for his touch.

He finally enters me after torturing me for his body. I moan as he begins moving, letting his pounding move my body.

I move my hands down my own body, feeling his skin and my skin touching and finally becoming one.

He smiles at me and moans “God, you’re so sexy” he says, kissing my body.

His hands caress my breast as my hands locate his hair, pulling softly.

“Um” I hear at the door, causing me to look up from Jack.

Johnson is standing in the doorway, staring at us.

“What the hell man, get out” Jack says, covering me up from his sight.

Johnson turns his body and awkwardly apologizes, “Sorry, but I knocked”

I blush at Johnson and look back at Jack who is staring at me.

“Close the door!” I yell at Johnson, who does as I ask and leaves the room.

“Where were we?” I say to Jack, Jack laughs at me and begins again.

Darling, you said you hated your brown eyes
But every time I look into them, all I see
Are two carbon copies of Venus, swirling
And it only makes sense that the one I love
Has Venus spinning above his sclera

And I could run my fingers through your hair
For days, tracing out shapes in the darkness
Of the night sky that your widow’s peak starts
And the nape of your neck ends

And the paleness of your cheeks is offset
By the little black dots that paint it so
Like a reverse night sky, and good God
I want to explore every inch of it

Your lips form nebulae, and mine, too
And between our pillow talk and sweet kisses
Are formed stars of every level of heat
Shining like diamonds painting our bedsheets

And there’s galaxies lying on our skin, too
My neck is covered in the violet variety
All born from places where your lips touched
As if my skin was a canvas, and you an artist

And for all of these things, I love you
I love you for your galaxies and your stars
For your planets and your nebulae, everything
Everything that covers your celestial body

—  a.n., “celestial bodies”
Mornings With Michael

I wake up to the feeling of Michael’s finger tips dancing along my hip as my eyes flutter open to see the morning sun streaming through the blinds. As my vision clears of sleep, I glance up to see the beautiful man that I love. His pale skin looks as if it’s porcelain as some slight stubble completes the masterpiece. Emerald eyes stare into mine with kindness and admiration while a smile paints itself along his cherry lips. One arm around my waist, holding me closer to him than ever, he places a gentle kiss to the top of my nose, bringing a pink blush to my cheeks. We lay there, tangled in the cloud colored sheets as the melodies of our breathing mix together to form the perfect duet. My hands slowly run over his chest and along his torso, down his stomach, loving every inch of his being. I travel upward to feel his dyed hair, now snow white. Bringing my hand subtly to his cheek, my fingertips trace the stubble, feeling the roughness in contrast with his smooth skin. Not a second has he broken his gaze away from me while a grin still spreads across his face. I trace my hands down his neck and over his collar bones, fascinated by the structure. My lips are drawn to them and place soft kisses over them as his hands tangle in my hair, gently twirling it around his fingers. I find my way to his free arm, fingers tracing his tattoo etched into the skin of his bicep. At last, I find my way back home to his lips and before I can take my own time bringing myself to kiss him, he lovingly and passionately kisses me while his hands run delicately down my back. His morning breath didn’t matter to me, because I love him. And he the same. Forehead pressed against mine, faces inches apart, this is the man I love.

I CRIED WRITING THIS