his face is so chiselled


that’s adorable. you’re adorable. i mean, it’s kinda sad and unsexy, but you’re adorable.

anonymous asked:

I NEED some headcanons about delinquent/badboy/punk! AU with Kuroo and Iwaizumi with their s/o who is a kind, cute and innocent little bird (♥ω♥*)

Here you go anon! I’ve been getting a bit more free time so I hope to get out more for you all! :D Man I suck at headcanons so have some headcanon/mini-scenarios instead!

Kuroo Tetsurou

  • This boy already looks the role of a delinquent with his crazy hair style and laid back personality, but no even more so with all that leather, piercings, and tattoos. He’s always ready to start a fight with whoever rubs him the wrong way, and if you ever get that honor prepares to get ground into the dirt. Kuroo is going to destroy both you and your pride while he’s at it.
  • He’s even more provoking and he uses this to his advantage to get his opponents so riled up that they throw the first punch instead of him. Hey, he may be brutish and a punk, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t think things through in order to throw the blame on someone else.
  • The bedhead punk constantly ditches class in favor of drinking on the roof where no one will disturb him, but he still somehow manages to ace every one of his tests. You, on the other hand, are the complete opposite to this dark haired delinquent. You are the definition of a perfect student, always on time for all of your classes and good grades.
  • How the two of you ended up together, the world may never know. Actually, you had been paired together during science class and what can you say, there was instant chemistry between the two of you.
  • Correction, he knew you were an absolute little angel and wanted the honor of corrupting you. Little did he know though, he would be the one getting corrupted, or you know purified.
  • You were quite shocked to learn that this badboy was actually really good at chemistry.  He explained, in great detail, a concept you were having difficulty with and even gave you and example to boot.
  • Mind you, he is absolutely showing off just to impress you. Lol Kuroo, you inner nerd is showing.
  • He takes every chance he can get to tease you, but every innuendo he makes just flies over your head due to how innocent you are. Poor Kuroo, all he wants to do is get you flustered and you’re completely oblivious.
  • On the other hand, you’re quite popular since you are so kind and caring to everyone.  Everyone always comes to you for advice or to just hang out and talk since you’re just that amazing of a person to be around.
  • It’s quite obvious though that someone isn’t quite fond of all these people being around you, especially the male population. Cue Kuroo taking the seat next to you and scaring away all of the guys that have their eyes on you. Yeah, no one is going to even come near the school’s badboy even if there is an absolute angel next to him. Problem solved.

Iwaizumi Hajime

  • If there’s one person you don’t want to run into at Aoba Johsai, it’s Iwaizumi. Clad in a leather jacket and pitch black clothes, the brunet is notorious for being the scariest person on campus.
  • You are a first-year and the newest member of the student council, and volunteered yourself to go and get the trouble makers off the roof and into class. You didn’t understand why nobody else wanted to do it, but the students at the school seemed nice enough, so it wouldn’t be too hard, right?
  • Actually, yeah. When you went up to call for him on the roof; the other three weren’t even at school today so it was just him; the muscular male follows you almost effortlessly.  It’s a surprise to Iwaizumi too. Hardly anyone addresses him so respectfully so you immediately pique his interest and he decides to humor you and does as you say.
  • Everyone is hella surprised when you come back without so much as a scratch on you. Many of the others that had tried before you always ended up at the infirmary and vow never to go and try again. How was a cute and innocent little thing like you able to get one of the worst delinquents at school to listen to you?
  • You are officially tasked with getting the guys off the roof, not that you’re complaining. The next time you go up you see all four of them there. You’re a bit scared this time since the other three tower over you, but you go over anyway.
  • Oikawa, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki are pretty shocked that someone has the guts to interrupt them and tell them what to do, but Iwaizumi just exhales a cloud of smoke and casually tells the other three that you were the one from last time.
  • If you were able to get Iwaizumi’s approval, then you have their approval as well. They’re still pretty scary, but they chat with you every time you come up and you slowly warm up to them, especially Iwaizumi.
  • Same with him and the rest of the group. You’re just so cute that they can’t help but feel protective over you. So if you ever get in trouble, you’ve got four bodyguards willing to fight for you, not like you’d let them.
  • You have no idea, but Iwaizumi really likes you and has trying to confess for the past few times. However, you’re just too innocent to actually realize everything he’s saying isn’t just as a friend and it flies over your head. The other three are just laughing in the back after they witness another failed confession, which earns them a punch from the embarrassed male.
  • But it’s when you see Iwaizumi actually hurt, that you realize you like the older male. He’s covered with bruises with his shirt in tatters, and is that blood you see? You don’t care if anyone sees you with him and immediately take him to your house to get him cleaned and fixed up.
  • His heart is racing and a blush covers his cheeks as you carefully clean his wounds. Your hands are so soft against his rough skin and he about to lose it when he sees you blushing when he takes his shirt off to tend to the wounds on his chest and back. Your face is so red when you see his chiseled chest and well defined arms that you almost forget what you’re doing.
  • When you’re done bandaging all his wounds, you’re about to leave but Iwaizumi grabs you hand and confesses to you right then and there. You finally realize that the third year wasn’t just saying that a friend when he leans over and kisses your cheek and you timidly do the same.
  • He may be a delinquent and an absolute punk to everyone else, but he guesses he can be good for you. 
Great Chemistry (Part 9)

Summary: After years of auditions and small acting jobs, you finally get picked to play the female lead in a major spy movie: Rogue Agency. Suddenly you find out that the actor playing the male lead and love interest is none other than Sebastian Stan himself. Throughout the story you go through the motions of filming a movie and come to find out that you and Seb have great chemistry. Do you take the leap and let yourself fall in love with your costar?

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 3,225

Warnings: Fluff! Cussing?

A/N: I decided to follow up the last two parts (both hot and heavy) with some pure fluff. Kind of like a breather and a transition for the part after this one. I hope you like it! 


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a lesson on style

Originally posted by chansebaeksboyslove

part i, ii

you’ve always been content with being associated with one word and one word only: average. average in looks, academics and social skills, you’re just looking to graduate high school without causing disasters you’ll have to live with until you kick the bucket. when you’re paired with school king park chanyeol for the semseter-­long physics thesis, you can’t help but think the entire situation has pretty much set itself up for failure. That is, until you strike a deal with your partner. An AU tale involving lessons in popularity, eleven consecutive B­ minuses, a secretly sensitive, chess­-loving jock, and an amateur sex tape.

Pairing: chanyeol x reader x baekhyun
Verse: high school au { jock!chanbaek ft. a super cute whiny ap physics genius jongdae }
Rating: M
Warnings: none
Word count: 5.9k

A/N: so i initially wanted to try and focus only on i won’t give up, but while i was planning it, i got pretty deep into it and just… well, um, got sad. i decided to put something a little more lighthearted up. i wanted to play around a little with perspective and try to focus less on narration and more on stream of consciousness. hopefully that makes for an interesting read! with that in mind, please enjoy, and also look forward to the next chapter of i won’t give up! 

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anonymous asked:


So lemme tell you guys about the first time Nesta bit Cassian

It was a beautiful starry night, but it was raining. Raining SUPER HARD. And Cassian, being Cassian was like “oooooh why don’t I drag Nesta into Velaris in the RAIN for some mundane errand just because I like her face and can’t ask her out like a NORMAL PERSON” so Nesta is grumbling and complaining and soaking wet (in more ways than one HEH) and Cassian just drags her by the hand through the rain chatting away. And she’s trying so hard not to focus on the way the raindrops slide down his chiseled face and his eyes are so bright and his damn MUSCLES ugh. It’s infuriating. So he takes her to this shop he’d said he needed her help getting something from and “aw. Darn. It’s closed. Whoops.” And Nesta is just like “ARE YOU KIDDING ME. You dragged me through the rain KNOWING it was closed didn’t you?” And cassian just smirks and she LOSES IT. She shoves him against the brick wall in a nearby alley quicker than he can blink and next thing he knows she’s pressing her soaked body against him and she is BITING HIS NECK. She pulls back immediately - terrified at the way her instincts took over and MORE terrified that holy shit Cassian is looking at her like he wants to devour her and… holy shit she wants him to.

The tenants above the alleyway are forever scarred by the noises of their High Lord’s Army Commander moaning their High Lady’s sister’s name very… very loudly as he pins her against the bricks and fucks her senseless.

The first new print of the year for my school’s con!

At First Sight

Castiel imagine requested by anon! “For Cas, what if only angels soulmates can see their wings, and when the boys introduce you to Castiel, you compliment his wings, the boys can’t see them and wonder why, and Castiel gets all embarrassed and tells you why.” Alright, minions, this is the first installment of a many, many part series. All future installments will be posted on the “The Story Continues…” page. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. On my old blog, this was my single most popular imagine, and my most popular series. I’ve grown incredibly fond. This imagine has been edited for reposting to add a little detail here and there. Hope you like it!

“Look, Y/n, he’s not the tea party type, alright? He’s not used to-” Dean circled his hands at chest-height, his eyes scanning the overcast skies for the proper wording, the exact emphasis he could use to adequately describe this angel you’d heard so much about. Dean settled on a term, his eyes dropping back to yours, cautious and confident in the same moment, emotions swirling together as one. “Human stuff. Give him some time, he’ll get better. You just have to let him get used to you. Trust me; you’ll love him.” He assured, his hand on your back guiding you through the doorway and into the Men Of Letters bunker. You were just now returning home from a rather successful vampire hunt with Dean, having slain three and purified two new recruits. The rough denim of your jeans suctioned to your skin beneath with drying blood, crimson paint coating your body in splashes and bucket-fulls. A lot of blood is produced when you sever a head. You would have been safer, and quite a lot cleaner, in a hazmat suit and galoshes. You admitted you looked atrocious, so splattered in gore as you were, but Dean assured you that Castiel would pay no attention to your physical appearance. An angel thing, he had warned. All they were supposed to see were glowing orbs of light or… he didn’t know, lists of sins scribed across your skin. Dean’s lips had ducked to your ear, lowering his voice despite the fact that you were alone, standing outside the bunker’s second entrance. “Oh, and let him know if you don’t like the whole mind-reading thing. Angel thing.”

You shook the recent memory of Dean’s warnings from your head, quieting your assumptions (lest this Castiel sneak a peak inside your head) as you were lead inside the bunker and down the spiral stairs gracing the foyer. Your hand trailed over the wrought iron railing, the smooth, cold surface gliding beneath your skin, your fingers holding to the banister as long as was possible before your arm smacked into your side. Your feet reached ground-level as you progressed towards the library, your eyes falling on the electronic table you had helped Charlie boot up. Well, holding her hair out of her face as she fiddled with copper wires hardly counted as helping, but she insisted you were crucial to the operation, supplying her with conversation as she broke down the hunting communities most highly protected database. The fixture now served as a map of the world, lighting up with every monstrous location known to hunters and civilians alike. Of course, the civilians had no idea they were waltzing around during human open-season, hence the existence of your occupation.

Dean’s hand left your back stranded, your tie broken like the orbit of a moon around a destroyed planet, his eyes cautioning you once more before directing your gaze to the two men huddled by each other, concealed by a brilliant mass of light and feathers. You felt your jaw unhinge and drop, your vision going hazy from the sheer magnificence of the sight before you. God, how did they even fit in here? How overwhelming it must become, to live in such close proximity to these… these… intoxicatingly delicate wings.The shuddering canopy of gray feathers brushed against the bookshelves, the table, the light fixtures… like liquid, they molded themselves around everything, catching the lamplight like dulled gemstones. The feathers bristled when Dean’s footsteps filled the room, his heavy boots alerting the duo of your arrival before you feet could cross the threshold. Then, as if following the complicated choreography to some kind of obscenely organized dance, the two men turned to acknowledge your return. The feathers skirted around anything they may topple, intricate maneuvers keeping stacks of books from falling to the floor, every single plume flowing as if on a wave. When you found the resolve to turn away from the magnificence around you, you saw Sam’s face was bursting with happiness to see you returned unharmed, though you were coated quite generously with blood.

You sorted through the impossible amount of fluttering feathers until your eyes rested upon an unfamiliar face. The angel’s expression was stoic, unfeeling save his eyes, which pooled with crystalline curiosity, his gaze dissecting your every feature. His shoulders straightened, pushing back with rigid formality, his wings flattening as best they could behind him. For such an immense mass as his wings, the extensions were downsized impressively, though the very tips of his wings yearned for freedom, feathers bristling. You clenched your teeth together, fearing you seemed rude, gawking at the angel’s hardware with such unapologetic curiosity. Then again, the angel’s eyes had done the same to your face. It must be another angel thing Dean had forgotten to mention during your ride home. The Winchester in question stepped forward, gesturing to the celestial being nestled into the confines of the library, both brothers seemingly oblivious to the masses that grew from Castiel’s shoulder blades. Were they really that used to it? You didn’t think you’d ever grow accustomed to the intimidating wings.

“Cas, this is Y/n. Y/n, Cas.” Dean grumbled, taking a seat and kicking off his blood-slick boots as he finished his informal introduction. You gave a little wave, moving forward and into the library with intent to shake the angel’s hand. As you drew nearer, the angel’s eyes widened, though the rest of his face and body remained unmoving. He extended his hand, his palm sliding easily into yours. His warmth was unlike anything you’d ever experienced from so cold a demeanor.

“Nice to meet you,” you mumbled, still awe-stricken. Up close, they were even grander; the feathers were singing against each other, humming a sweet, soft tune. It was as if bells were rung as a lullaby, or (you concluded, unimpressed with your slow-moving connection) as if an angel were singing. He released your hand after an extended moment (or were you just too absorbed in his wings to account for time?), your eyes skirting back to the brilliance behind him. Where the artificial light branded them, they shot off every color you could name, and some you couldn’t, shattering spectrums like a faceted diamond. Their dulled reflections were vibrant now. Perhaps it was your proximity? His eyes, you noticed, had followed yours, a genuine expression of confusion and… diluted relaxation painting his chiseled face. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” you complimented, your tone breathy in appreciation. Castiel’s gaze locked on you, a sudden, silent movement of the eye, his wings going silent, completely immobile, not a single feather daring to move. The angel’s face now held the faint contouring of shock. Sam’s brow was pinched, his mouth quizzical.

“Yeah, he’s a looker, we know,” Dean scoffed, coaxing a chuckle from his younger brother at your apparent loss of control. “Jesus, Y/n, pull it together,” Dean whispered, his smile infectious. You shook your head at their idiocy, too invested in the angel’s glorious wings to bother blushing from embarrassment, your eyes locking with Castiel’s, their ocean-esque depth reeling you in. Perhaps this was an angel thing… those eyes. They were hardened sapphires, glowing internally as if each stone had harvested a single flame. His face had yet to shift, his wings yet to move, his form rigid as a plank under your inspection. Maybe it was rude to stare.

“No… I mean, well, yeah, but… his wings,” You stammered, irritated by the brothers’ lack of interest in the beauty they hadn’t warned you of, watching realization and something close to fear burst in the angel’s divine eyes. Dean made a sound of gruff uncertainty, the sound almost missed entirely under the sound of flustered bells… if bells could become flustered. Castiel’s hand had wrapped around your wrist, his skin flooding your arm with heat, the song of his wings unwinding as if relieved their owner was in contact with you. Castiel began to move then, leading you to the corner of the library, his hands gripping your wrists by your sides, releasing your hands once your fingers had spread against the wall behind you. The murmuring of bells increased, pealing in what sounded, absurdly, to be a whine.

“The Hell is she talking about, Cas?” Sam inquired, the angel rolling his eyes at his comment, his pupils diving into yours, his attention split unwillingly from his scientific analysis of your eyes.

“She was attempting to make a joke of my race,” Castiel explained, his eyes searching yours with complete concentration. You were certain he was joking, only his tone never deviated from a professional, if slightly disconnected, quality. Sam let out a breathy laugh before turning away, his hazel eyes praising your falsified wit. Your back bit into the wall as Castiel inched closer, careful to keep a respectful distance between your body and his. He lowered his voice, bringing his face closer to your own. He was clearly unfazed by the amount of gore painting your body, just as Dean had promised. "Please forgive my explanation. They cannot… humans aren’t supposed to be able to…” he trailed off, his eyes ducking to the floorboards as he fought for words. “What you see is a fragment of my true visage, something neither Sam nor Dean nor anyone else can view. My wings are only visible to one human. I had assumed that human would never come in contact with me. The odds are very slim,” his voice dropped once again, his eyes scanning the molding that tied the wall to the floor, his head shaking slowly. His ocean eyes lifted to meet yours once again, the fire within burning with a serious intensity. “This gift you possess is granted only to those destined to… fall for an angel. Do you understand? You may have heard it referred to as having a soul mate.“ If his proximity hadn’t startled you, his statement surely did the job. This was not merely an angel thing.

You inhaled slowly, watching his wings unfurl around you like a shield, blocking the brothers from your view. He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, clearly in an attempt to wrench his feathers away from you, but the duel masses were having none of his resistance; the quills trilled against each other, tips reaching, stretching toward you. He spoke apologies with his eyes, his cheeks glowing dimly with his embarrassment. You tentatively reached for the feathers at the very bottom of his wings, the billowy plumes that were brushing against your side, your fingertip encountering only cloud. Your touch activating a higher pitched song, as if you had excited them. Your heart as well had been excited; you felt as if you’d recently recovered from a high-voltage shock, the way your pulse was racing. Glancing at his face, you realized you’d made him blush deeper, either by your touch or by your presence, you couldn’t be sure. Your mouth stretched into a shaky, timid smile, though your mind was unable to comprehend how you already felt so close to this stranger… but you were not nearly close enough to fling yourself into his arms and prance (or more appropriately, fly) off into the sunset. The angel nodded, his eyes sympathetic and… disappointed, it seemed, though he obviously meant to hide that emotion.

"I’m aware that love is generally a longer process for you, and I’m willing to give you the time necessary for you to be comfortable. It’s… overwhelming, I know.” To this, you nodded, thankful for his understanding of the human species, remembering that your thoughts weren’t safeguarded from Castiel. He ducked his head, though his eyes flickered to your face, closing in comfortable bliss as you buried your fingers in his wings, their exhilarated song filling you with warmth.

Fred Weasley Dirty Imagine: Bored (Requested by celebs-imagines)


You and Fred were both bored out of your minds. Your friends were off either at the library studying, in Hogsmeade with your fellow classmates, or wandering around the castle because let’s be honest, no one wants to be stuck in the tower all weekend.

So basically, the only ones even in the tower were you and Fred.

Right now, you both were lying down on his bed, staring up at the canopy-like wood surrounding the top of the bed.

You let out a soft sigh and twiddled your thumbs together.

“I’m bored.” you said, looking over to Fred.

He exhaled slowly. “Yeah, same here.”

This is when you took the time to really look at Fred. You noticed how his ginger hair was turning a slightly deep orange due to the sun streaming through the window. His cheekbones were soft on his face and looked so perfectly kissable. However, his jawline was really chiseled. It was firm and sharp and led to perfectly form his sturdy chin. You noticed the way his eyes would become happy and bright whenever he smiled, and his smile was something rare. No one had such a happy smile like Fred did. He was always so loving, so caring. Sometimes you wondered how you ever managed to score a guy like him.

Fred turned to look at you, a smirk on his face.

“You’re staring.”

You blushed a little bit but shrugged as he turned your head to face the wood again. “Not my fault you’re hot.”

He chuckled and sat up so that he was balancing himself on his forearms. 

“You think I’m hot?”

You shrugged again but slightly bit your lip. “Maybe.”

He smiled at you before his thoughts trailed off. After a few seconds he looked down at you again.

“Wanna do it?”

You turned to him and grinned, biting your lip. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With that, he dove down to press his lips against yours, his tongue automatically prying your lips open so he could slip inside your mouth. Your hand went up to cup his cheek and bring his face closer to yours. Your tongues began massaging each other and Fred’s hand moved to slowly slide down your waist.

The kiss got heated very quickly, but it was passionate and fun all the same. He smiled into the kiss and started fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off of you now?” he mumbled quietly against your lips. 

You laughed and sat up, quickly taking off your shirt and throwing it to the side. You turned to Fred and he pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it over his shoulder. 

You both smiled at each other and went back to passionately kissing each other while Fred laid down on his bed, pulling you on top of him. This continued on for some while, until his fingers in one hand became tangled in your soft hair while the other hand went down to gently squeeze your bum.

You smirked and slightly ground onto his crotch with your hands suddenly becoming very interested in pulling down his sweats. Fred moaned into your mouth a little as you ground into him. 

You broke the kiss and sat up, slowly pulling down his sweatpants with his boxers while biting your lip and winking at him. Fred let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding but smiled at you nonetheless. He lifted his body up slightly so you could pull them off all the way.

Once his hard erection was revealed after his sweats and boxers were stripped of him, you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor. Then you moved slightly so you could take off your pants and kick them to the side. 

You crawled back up to Fred and started kissing him again, this time making it a bit rough. Your lips attacked each other with your tongues suddenly fighting back and forth in your mouth. 

Your hand moved down to Fred’s erection, to which you started pumping at a fairly fast pace. Fred let out a groan as he moved his hand down to the place he wanted to touch you most, feeling your wet heat. 

He started toying with your clit in his fingertips, emitting a soft moan from your lips. He quickly pressed his thumb down on it, rubbing fast circles on it while slowly sticking a finger inside of you.

Fred moved his finger in and out of you. Slowly, but hard at the same time. He quickly inserted another finger, this time moving a little bit faster, to which you let out a soft moan in his mouth.

Both of your hands moved faster and faster. The orgasm was building, building slowly. It was almost there. You were just about to cum when Fred took his fingers out of you and gently pushed your hand off of his penis.

His breathing was slightly ragged as he cheekily smiled at you and winked.

“Let’s take this under the sheets, yeah?” he whispered seductively.

You giggled as he moved under the blankets, you moving after he was settled in. 

You kissed him again, but this time it was soft pecks. Three in total.

He pulled away and looked up at you, smiling before he leaned up into your ear and whispered seductively,

“Ride me, baby.”

You blushed but kissed him again as you positioned himself over your entrance. You teased him a bit, rubbing the head along your inner folds and putting pressure on your clit.

He let out an erratic breath. “(Y/N) don’t tease me, now.”

You slowly slid down on him, his hard and long member filling you up perfectly as you went down all the way, slightly loud moans escaping your lips.

Fred’s fingers dug into your hips as you bounced on top of him, your breasts rapidly bouncing up and down in front of him. 

One of his hands reached to grasp a breast and started squeezing and massaging it. Once you put your hands on his smooth stomach to balance yourself, he took his other hand and started working on your other breast. 

You threw your head back and let out a moan as you bounced up and down on his large penis with his hands practically kneading your breasts. 

His hands were really strong, they held onto your breasts tightly and moved them in circles in his hands. You leaned down to kiss him, still moving up and down over him.

Your lips passionately and rhythmically moved in sync with each other. You tilted your head so you could deepen the kiss, playing with his tongue for only a little bit.

As if on cue, you changed the direction of your hips and started swiveling them around his hard member. A groan came from his lips and his hands moved down to squeeze your ass as you continued to swivel down onto him harder.

“Mmph, oh (Y/N)…” he moaned out.

He suddenly sat up and spread his legs wider so you could have more access to him. With his hands still on your ass, he started moving his hips up and down along with yours. That way you wouldn’t feel like you were the one doing all the work.

His lips immediately attached to your neck, moving to kiss upwards slowly before finding your soft spot, which was right under your jawline. He sucked on that particular spot, making you whimper a bit and bite down softly on your bottom lip. 

“Oh God, Fred.” you moaned out as he continued sucking and nipping on your soft spot.

Fred nipped at the spot on your neck one more time, leaving a small love bite before licking it and moving up to capture your lips with his.

You bounced down harder on him as he bit your bottom lip and tugged on it slightly. He let out a somewhat loud moan as you sucked on his tongue a little bit and bit his lip.

“Oh God, I love it when you do that.” he said when you pulled away briefly.

You giggled and sucked on his tongue again, this time making him moan louder.


You changed direction again on his penis, swiveling again before feeling the high of your orgasm about to come.

“Fred…” you moaned out.

“You too?” he asked breathlessly.

You nodded as he squeezed your ass even tighter, for sure leaving a few light bruises there.

“Augh! Oh God (Y/N), I’m gonna come.” he moaned out loudly.

“Mmph, ungh, me too.” you managed to whimper out.

He came a few seconds later, his climax taking its toll on him. You came shortly after he did, collapsing on top of him as he fell backwards on his bed.

You lay there on his chest, trying to catch your breath as he attempted to to the same. You could feel his slight pectoral muscles rising and falling as his erratic breathing slowed down. His arms came to wrap around your waist, rubbing soft circles on your back.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled out of him and went back to laying your head on his chest, your fingers tracing patterns on his soft skin.

Fred looked down at you and chuckled, making you look up and face him.

“What?” you smiled at him.

“Nothing. That was just a lot of fun.” he bit his lip and winked at you.

You bit the inside of your bottom lip as you leaned down to kiss him softly but deeply on his lips. 

However, he pulled away fairly quickly after getting your hair tangled in his hand again.

He smiled cheekily at you. “Wanna go for round two?”

You giggled and nodded yes as he flipped you over so that now he was on top, kissing you deeply on the mouth once more.

Here we go again.

these gray clouds can’t hide my sunny disposition (jungkook x reader)

Jungkook + waiting in line

Word Count: 3,959
A/N: i started this fic back in march lmao rip but thanks to katie @jespere-hope for all the suggestions and cheerleading me into finishing this 

The line to the Apple Store spanned nearly four blocks, from the bakery outside your apartment all the way down to the construction zone. You hurried along the pavement, hoping to catch a spot at the tail end. The stares of people waiting in the line made it evident that boredom was already seeping in to the masses of Apple fanatics. You flitted quickly through throngs of people loitering casually against concrete buildings, and not even the enticing fumes of freshly baked bread from the local bakery could stop you from your mission.

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The First Time (Rafe Adler X Reader)

Your hands were shaking furiously. They’d made you feel worthless, undeserving, like a failure. And you punished yourself for hating them. You should be grateful for all your parents had done for you, but here you were hating them. You punished yourself for hating them, but you punished yourself for loving them after EVERYTHING they’d done to you. You were stuck in this everlasting cycle, where no matter what, you made yourself the problem. They always spoke to you like they were the victim. Like you were stupid and disrespectful. So you questioned whether you really were unreasonable with them, and that led to more self-punishment. You ran your hands into your hair and grasped firmly, tightly, bordering in painful. You were seeking pain at this point. Anything real to keep you grounded while your mental state crumbled away. You sat in the couch and kept your hands in your hair, head between your knees as you tried to control your breathing. You clench your fists tightly until your nails start to pinch your palms. You just needed him. He knew what it was like, being made to feel like nothing. He’d opened up to you, and maybe it was about time you did the same. Your arms were tensed as you wandered up the stairs. He was in the bedroom flicking through maps and documents. You relaxed at the sight of him. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Rafe, it was just that you’d never had a strong enough reason to cry in front of him.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his back.
‘Hey.’ He said in an absent-minded greeting. You hum in response. ‘You’d think…’ He released a map from his fingers and it floated back onto the desk surface slowly, 'after all these hours I’d have made some sort of progress.’ You bit your lip, the emptiness in the pit of your stomach pushing tears out your eyes, and you swallowed over and over, and held your breath to stop the noises and sobs from escaping. You kept completely still, but your arms instinctively clung tighter to him.
'Yeah, you’d think.’ You tried to sound upbeat, sarcastic even, but an unexpected crack in your voice betrays you. You mentally scold yourself.
'Y/N?’ He turned his head to get a better look at you. And it made you crack. You barked out a cry, tears spilling and sinking into the fabric of his shirt. Rafe immediately dropped the papers and turned around. You withdrew your arms and held them uselessly in front of you while your body shook with sobs. Rafe was stunned still, hands on your shoulders as he tried to think of what to do. He’d never seen you cry before; it was a totally new side to him. One that he hadn’t hoped to see, but he had wondered why you hadn’t cried like this before. He stammered, mouth opening and closing.
You slowed your breathing, burying the heels of your palms in your eyes.
'It’s okay,’ you smiled through the shaky breaths, 'you don’t have to say anything I just- ugh, it’s nothing I swear.’ You let out a laugh to reassure him. When you meet his eyes with your puffy red ones, tears dripping off your top lashes onto your cheeks, he looks positively petrified. Then you instantly regret crying in front of him. He struggled to get a hold on his emotions as it was, much less other people’s. Or yours.
'Uh…’ He swallowed. He was panicked. He wasn’t expecting to deal with an explosion of emotion just now. So you just hugged him, letting him know he didn’t need to say anything, just be there. He sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

'What’s wrong?’ Rafe mumbled. It made your heart ache for him.
'I didn’t mean to jump this on you.’ You smile again.
'You smile an awful lot when you cry.’
'Sorry, sir.’ You quip back at him, smiling sadly.
'I’m sorry I’m the worst person for this.’ He rubs your back with one hand, the other draped lazily over his knee.
'Rafe you’re the best person for this right now. Has it ever occurred to you that you’re the first person I’ve cried in front of for like… A year. I refuse to cry in front of people. I built up such a positive reputation for myself, that I’m worried if people see me cry it’ll poison that. And people won’t come to me for help. I want to help people, but if people see I have problems, they often pity me instead of letting me help them with whatever they have going on. I’m not saying people have to come to me, but… I dunno. I shut myself up for people, but that doesn’t mean I condone it. I shut myself up because I don’t want other people to shut themselves up. It’s hypocritical but it works.’
'You’ve never done that for me, right?’
'What do you mean?’
'You’ve never shut away your problems for me, right? When I opened up to you, tell me you didn’t used to cry alone because you were scared I wouldn’t be open with you. Tell me you’ve never hidden yourself away for my benefit.’
'You’re lying.’
He let his head drop forward.
'I’m sorry.’ You said in unison, and he pulled you into his lap.
'Never again.’ You promise, nuzzling into his neck and placing soft kisses there. You fell back with him and laid there in comfortable silence, kissing his neck in the most comforting way while he stroked your hair. He’d fetched you a box of tissues, and as you lay with him, you clutched a tear soaked sheet.

'Why were you crying?’ Rafe finally asks, and you curl into his side, stroking his chest.
'I held it in too long.’
'But what triggered it?’
'Bad people. We’ll talk about it later I just wanna lay with you.’ You mutter against him. A lump rose in Rafe’s throat. He was glad you weren’t watching him. He wanted to crush you to him and hug you so tightly. It was something about the way you said it. Just the way you had kissed his neck without any other motive. The way you didn’t want to talk, rather just have him there was enough. It made his stomach swoop and it boggled his mind.
'I’m sorry.’
Your head shot up at that, looking him dead in the eye as he laid on his back. 'Why would you say that?’
He sat himself up, brows furrowed.
'Because if I had asked you what was wrong you wouldn’t have built it up. I would’ve been more approachable. I know how unapproachable I am, I don’t want that for you.’ His face was stern. You looked at him in disbelief. You weren’t offended, you were… Almost horrified at how quickly he blamed himself for something that wasn’t on him. It was never on him.
You held up the tissue in your hand.
'Do you know why this happened?’
'Because I didn’t ask you? Because I wasn’t good enough? How many reasons do you want, I got hundreds-’
'And how many of them don’t blame you? Rafe this was never your fault. Ever. This is me. This is all on me and my shit. I held it all in by myself, does that sound like your fault?’ He shook his head. 'I kept a secret from you, does that sound like your fault?’ He shook his head again.
'No. No buts. I hid myself away, but when I let it out, and I came to see you, you were there for me, brilliantly, perfectly. You were what I needed - who I needed - when I needed it. I’m not blaming myself for pity points, Rafe. I’m blaming myself because I am the one to blame. And not only that, I’m blaming myself because you need to understand that not everything bad that happens to me, is your fault. Not everything bad that happens to you is your fault, and not everything bad that that may happen in this relationship is your fault. Please, please understand that. Blame yourself when it’s due. And if you don’t know who to blame, blame the sky or something, or the guy down the road, but never yourself.’ You leant down to kiss him, slow and passionate and filled with affection. You pulled back. 'But… If you blame the guy down the road don’t kill him or anything. That… That’d be bad…’ You smiled, looking at his lips, his nose, the shape of his face and how his cheekbones were chiselled so finely. And at your reflection in his eyes and how you belonged there.
'I love you so much, Rafe.’ Rafe wouldn’t let your lips be away from his for another moment. He pulled you down and under, appreciating every divot and inch of you, because you’d lifted such a heavy weight from him, and if he didn’t cling to you now he’d float away.
'I love you,’ he said, 'I love you, I love you, I love you,’ the shape of your collarbones were made for his lips, the shapes of your fingers were meant for his fingers, everything about you fit him so perfectly, everybody else just looked crooked. He’d mapped every part of you to the point he couldn’t get lost, and it made him feel safe. And he made it his mission, his purpose, to appreciate every acre of you.


My wifi has been a piece of shit lately, haven’t uploaded much D: hope this makes up for it :3 MWAH

Collide | Rucas AU

Prompt: Riley Matthews is a struggling writer who works as a bartender to pay off her student loans. Lucas Friar is a rich kid from Texas who’s lost his way. One night fate brings them together causing their two different worlds to collide.
A/N: It’s cheesy but I love writing AU’s. Hope it’s okay! xo (also note there’s A LOT of dialogue. Sorry in advance.)

Part 1 - “Tell me your story.”

I wake up to the sound of jeopardy blasting from the t.v. out in the living room. It was already noon but I work the night shifts so for me it might as well have been 6 in the morning. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I shuffle into the common area and watch as my roommate, Isadora, fills out paperwork while absentmindedly answering the questions from the outdated show. ‘According to C.S. Lewis, it was bordered on the east by the Eastern Ocean and on the north by the River Shribble.’ I glance over at her and without hesitation she answers, ‘What is Narnia.’

“Izzy, does that have to be so loud?” I ask making my way over to the kitchen.

“Sorry. It helps me concentrate.” She turns down the volume and returns to her papers.

“A lot of homework?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She pulls out a huge stack of papers and slams them down on our coffee table.

“Well good luck with that.” I grab some water and head back to my room.

“You’re working tonight, right?” I hear her call from the other room. “Don’t wait up, I’ll be with Farkle.”

I nod my head even though she can’t see me and plop back down on my bed. My day doesn’t start until its dark outside.

It’s a Wednesday night so the bar is pretty slow. We have our regulars who are always here and a couple of girls who say they’re having a bachelorette party. Although the bride to be doesn’t seem to be having that much fun.

Since it’s a slow night and it doesn’t appear to be picking up I send the other two bartenders home and tell them I’ll lock up the place when I leave. I’ve gotten pretty chummy with the owner.

I started working here when I was a freshmen in college. I wasn’t 21 yet so I had to get paid under the table but she said I was a ray of sunshine so she took a chance on me. I’m 23 now and have been working here ever since.

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Late Nights (Part 2)

Harry is just not finished with you yet. Word count: 3k Warnings: smut smut smut, semi-public make out. 

Luckily, I didn’t fall asleep during Harry’s meeting, even though it was twice as boring as he’d said it’d be. Now, as they’re wrapping everything up, Harry throws me a knowing look, his green eyes thinking as he looks me up and down.

I smile wide, waving goodbye to his colleagues as they leave his office. Almost immediately, Harry is in my personal bubble, his hands resting on my ass, pulling me close. He leans down to bury his face into the crook of my neck and I feel his mouth open gently, allowing him to suck and lick my skin there. 

 “Look so fucking sexy,” he moans and I let out a breathy laugh. 

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idk who Ralph is because I have the most emotions about Bitty and Jack in this instance so all I can say for sure is that Vanellope is probably Lardo because let’s be real they’re one and the same

NOW ONTO THE JUICY STUFF so in this au the role of Fix-it Felix Junior will be played by none other than Eric Richard Bittle (and now that I think about it Coach even calls Bitty ‘junior’ like this au is perfect am I the only one who saw this what the heck get on it people) 

Calhoun, our Tall Broody Tragic Backstory Character is obvi Jack


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anonymous asked:

Can you do an imagine of dylans bed head?

“Dyl,” you whisper, tracing your fingers down his bare back. He shifts in his sleep, letting out a hum as he starts to wake up. You smile, raising your eyebrows as he groans and pulls the covers over his head. “Baby, we have to get up,” you whisper, resting your hand on his side. He grumbles, ‘Fimorminutz” and you shake your head, “You’ll try to drag this out for five more hours, come on.” He rolls over and you yelp as he pulls you under the covers, giggling. Dylan hums again and pulls you against his chest, hugging you like a teddy bear. You quietly lie in his arms for a moment, enjoying the warmth. “Come on,” you whisper, lightly tapping his upper chest.

There’s a soft, warm glow coming from the sun under the sheets and you smile as your eyes adjust to Dylan’s face. His strong, chiseled features are so comforting and familiar in the morning light. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing softly, slowly drifting off to sleep again. You carefully push the covers off of you and the direct sunlight hits him, creating a masterpiece. The light bounces off his angular features, brightening the already alluring features. Your eyes drift up to the tangled mass of hair on top of his head. The gold locks are twisted and matted in different places and it’s a complete mess- and he looks completely adorable.

Dylan squints his eyes at the sudden light change, rubbing them, “Y/n,” he whines softly. You giggle and shake your head. “How did your mother ever get you out of bed in the morning?” “I’ll never tell,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes closed. You reach up to gently stroke the unruly mane, grinning. He’s going to need help getting this all untangled. You bite your lip as you watch him, Fine. He won’t tell me, I’ll have to come up with my own ways. You lean in and give him a soft kiss, pulling away. He hums, “Well, she didn’t so that.” You laugh softly, “That’s good to hear.” You lean in to kiss him again and his lips pucker out as he kisses you, pouting when you pull away. “Dyl?” you whisper over his lips. “Mmm?” he mumbles, his eyes slowly starting to open. “Have I ever given you head in the shower?” you ask softly. His eyebrows go up and his eyes open. “Morning, baby,” he mumbles in a slightly scratchy voice. “We should get in that shower.” You nod, grinning as he gets up and eagerly tugs you into the bathroom.

Road Trip...Part 4

another part of road trip please please pls pls pls

I can do this!  Here is Part 4 of Road Trip, comin’ ‘atcha!

(Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Epilogue)

“On the road again…”

Humming to yourself as Matthew strikes up the station wagon, he pulls out from under the awning of the hotel and begins to pull out into the main road.

“Where to?” he asks.

Shrugging as you yawn, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, Matthew chuckles to himself as he throws his turn signal.

“Coffee,” he says.

And 10 minutes later, you had a glorious cup of coffee in your hand, sucking it down like it was your life-force.

The two of you had decided to check out the next day.  You had mentioned that you had never seen Mt. Rushmore, so Matthew wanted to make it to Nebraska before stopping for a couple of nights.

“I don’t know what there is to do in Nebraska, but I’m sure we can find something,” he smiles.

“I know what I can do…” you trail off.

“You’re so cute when you’re tired,” he muses.

“Can it, ass-face,” you groan.

After staying up and recounting your high school days, comparing them to Matthew’s and listening to each other’s stories, the two of you had finally passed out on the couch around 5 am, with a check-out time of 11 am.

Needless to say, you were exhausted.

“You can lean your seat back and sleep, if you’d like,” Matthew suggests, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he merges onto the highway.

“So you can draw penis faces on me like you do Shemar? No thanks,” you retort.

“I would never draw penises on your beautiful face!” Matthew feigns shocked hurt, “I would draw beautiful rose vaginas.”

“You are insane!” you squeal, giggling as you shove his arm, his smile ricocheting across his face as you take another long pull from your coffee cup.

Sitting in silence as you stare out the window, you feel your eyelids drooping as your mouth begins to speak without its filter.

“I used to love thrift shopping,” you breathe.

“You don’t anymore?” Matthew asks.

“I mean, I do…I just stopped because I always found these cool clothes I wanted to wear, and no one ever approved of them.”

“Who cares if they approve?” Matthew asks, furrowing his brow as he flickers his gaze over to you, seeing your head lob off of the glass and back down onto the seat cushion.

“Where’s the seat-go-back thing?” you ask.

“On your right, down at the bottom of the side of the seat,” Matthew smiles.

Fidgeting with the lever, you pull it up as your chair shoots back, squealing as Matthew begins to lowly chuckle at you.

Leaning back as a smile crosses your face, you close your eyes as you concentrate on the humming of the highway underneath the tires of Matthew’s car.

“Why do you care if people approve?” he asks again.

“Because if I was gonna use my parents’ money, they wanted to like the clothes,” you say, flopping your head towards his voice, but not opening your eyes.

“Is that why you got a job so young?” he asks.

You vaguely remember telling Matthew about your babysitting gigs as a 15 year old and then getting a bagging job at a grocery store right after you turned 16.

“Mmmmhm,” you hum, your eyes too heavy to open and look at his face.

His perfectly chiseled face.

“So when did you stop shopping at thrift stores?” Matthew asks.

“When I was 16,” you mumbled.

“But I thought the reason you got the job was to continue thrift shopping,” he states, furrowing his brow as he looks down at your exhausted face, your lips down-turned as you recount the memory.

Shifting as you groan, you sloppily place your coffee cup in the cup holder as you take a deep breath through your nose.

“I heard my mom talking to my dad one night.  About how Y/L/N girls’ need to act a certain way because of our reputation in the community, and how my outfits were bringing down the family name,” you mumble as you feel yourself begin to slip into a nice slumber.

“I’m so sorry,” Matthew mumbles, placing his hand over yours and giving it a light squeeze.

“I miss it,” you sigh, allowing yourself to slip into a deep sleep as the concrete rolling by the tires ticks along in a rhythmic beat, lulling you to sleep before you can catch the tear slowly slipping out of your eye and down your cheek.

But Matthew caught it.

Moving his hand from yours to your cheek, he wipes it away, flickering his eyes back up to the road as he swallows back his own tears.

“Well, I know what we’re doing in Nebraska…” he whispers, wiping your tear off on his pants as he moves his hand back over to yours, wrapping his long fingers around your tiny hand as he holds it tight, your chest rising and falling steadily as your body finally gives into its weakness.