i like how his hands turned out

anonymous asked:

can... we have more touchy klance hcs,,,

you’re so cute,, yes of course

  • whenever they’re out exploring a planet and keith sees something interesting he’ll grab hold of lance’s hand to get his attention
    • he’s telling lance to look and lance is like “yeah, mhm, i see,” but he definitely does not because he can’t look away from where keith hasn’t let go of his hand yet 
    • keith does not let go of his hand for the duration of the trip
  • one day shiro calls keith to his room to talk to him but when keith comes in his hair is french-braided really beautifully and he’s like !!! O.O
    • and he says “who did your hair? it’s really nice,” and keith kind of self-consciously touches it but he’s smiling a little and his cheeks are pink and he just says really quietly “it is isn’t it? lance did” 
    • shiro wiggles his eyebrows a little but doesn’t tease too much but ITS CUTE OKAY 
  • probably they’re sitting at a dinner with an alien species allura is trying to make an alliance with and start bumping knees with each other for no reason 
    • lance almost falls over at one point. allura is glaring. pidge is trying not to laugh
    • but also, lance can get nervous sometimes, depending on the day or who they’re talking to. he doesn’t show it and covers it up with his usual suaveness, but keith can be pretty perceptive, especially when it comes to lance
    • so his knee is bumping up and down rapidly during a dinner and he’s fidgeting with his hands 
    • keith just puts his hand on top of lance’s knee and then kind of reaches out to hold lance’s hand 
    • it helps a lot, for both of them really 
  • i kid you not keith probably has his fingers hooked around lance’s pant loops and they still think their rship is platonic
  • lance very casually tucking keith’s hair behind his ears and mumbling something about how he “can’t see your eyes, keith” 
  • or poking his face to get his attention and smiling really widely when keith turns to him and squishes his face so his lips are puckered up like a fish and says with exasperation but fondness “what do you waaanntt, lance?”
    • “you,” he says in a muffled voice (they’re not even together yet what kind of,,,,) 
    • (how do you smile when your face is squished like that i do not know but lance’s love for keith defies all facial expression limitations) 
  • catch lance trying to teach keith how to dance at 3 in the morning, hands on his hips, laughing quietly at how hard keith is concentrating
  • sitting on the sofa, lance playing with keith’s fingers, keith with his head resting on his shoulder
  • i’m getting carried away,,, 
Shit the Foxes said on talk shows
  • Neil: So Kevin comes in at like 1 in the morning, brand new tattoo on his face, and he's drunk as hell but he's making this surprisingly coherent speech about being the deadliest piece of the board, and I'm just sitting there not saying a word because I don't know a thing about chess.
  • Dan: There's a video on my computer containing cuts from every single time Andrew sent a ball flying into someone's head set to the Donky Kong theme song. It's two and a half hours.
  • Allison: Neil has this thing where bad things happening to him are like a matter of fact. Once, he and I met up for lunch, and when the bill came he asked if he could pay me back later because he got mugged on the way over. As it turns out, what I mistook for Neil being a picky eater was actually Neil trying to eat without upsetting a shallow stab wound.
  • Renee: I don't drink alcohol because you can't account for what you'll do when you're drunk. Though sometimes that turns out fun. About a year ago we found out that Matt knows how to sing Sweden's national anthem backwards by heart, and that was hilarious. But on the other hand I've had Allison and Nicky competing on who can break a glass with their voice at three in the morning, so.
  • Matt: Kevin is definitely seems like everything in his life is about Exy, but get to know him and you realize that he has plenty of interests, it's just that he has no concept of doing things in moderation. So it's less a stick up his butt and more like, I don't know, a pool noodle or something.
  • Aaron: Neil doesn't have a concept of money, a fact which on any given day swings between hilarious and flat out tragic. He refused to pay $15.90 for new pants but said he'd pay for my med school if I stopped making fun of his new haircut. To be clear, both of these things happened in the same conversation.
  • Nicky: I love God, I do. He's always in my heart. But I guess God has abandonment issues because every time I see a commercial for a McFlurry I can just feel him testing me.
  • Andrew: The thing about the Foxes is that the stress level on any given day can fluctuate so wildly you get whiplash. One day you're getting yelled at for not blocking a shot, the next you're getting yelled at for "obstruction of justice" or whatever it is the Feds call it when you remind them that they can't come in without a search warrant. Why Wymack does this willingly is beyond me.
  • Kevin: On the one hand, the Foxes are much less organized, not to mention a smaller team. Every game, we're at an almost immediate disadvantage. On the other hand, Ravens are contractually forbidden from Irish coffee. So overall the decision isn't hard.
let’s take a moment and appreciate the phenomenon of tom holland in glasses

THiS HANDS DOWN IS THE BEST PICTURE TO EXIST ON THIS ENTIRE PLANET OK LOOK HOW PURE AND LOVABLE HE IS AND TESSA JUST MAKES IT 1930X BETTER

movING ON i mean look at this little smile hOW can you not appreciate the smile and glasses duo 

may i point out he’s the first guy in science goggles to turn me on

don’t even get me started on him and his sunglasses liKE HELp mE

I MEAN C’MON THIS IS UNFAIR

i mean technically they’re not on his face but technically he’s wearing them you’re welcome

bACK TO THE MAIN POINT like yes tom we get it you’re fucking beautiful without trying and the glasses are an exceptional bonus

moral of the story tom holland fucks me up on the daily and the glasses are just an addition that are gonna fuck up mY HEART 

Nine Months - Harry Styles Imagine

No piece of mine has never had as much interest surrounding it as this one has, so thank you for expressing your excitement to me. I hope you’ll find it was worth the wait. (Protip: if you’re reading on mobile, ditch the app and read on Safari or Chrome instead, as the app is prone to close on longer pieces of text).

This one is dedicated to @permanentcross, simply because she’s the best. E has listened to me ramble on and on about this story for longer than anyone should have to. She’s the inspiration behind many things beneath the cut, all of which I will leave up to your own interpretation. 

Without further adieu, I present you with Nine Months…

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“Why do you love me?”

“Because I have no choice.” He said with a sigh

Her wry smile turned to a frown as she frantically attempted to let go of his hand.

He calmly pat her in the head before continuing…

“Like how the rain helplessly falls to kiss the earth. How the waves can’t resist coming back to hug the shore. I have no choice, it is my very nature to love you.

My mind filled with holes so it drowns oh so easily in the depths of your eyes. My heart molded like a flute so it always sings your name. My soul hollowed out so it would always seek you as if you’re the only thing in this world that can fill it. I have no choice when every inch of my being is drawn to your perfections.”

He glanced at her birth mark and smiled, “and to your imperfections.”

“Because love” he held her chin and slowly leaned forward “the first time my lips pressed on yours I decided there will never be a better choice”.

—  kfroy 

anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

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Guys My Age (2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 4K

Warnings: SMUT. NSFW gifs. 

Summary: You’re playing truth or dare with the Avengers when Nat asks you when the last time you got laid was  and Sam dares you to pick a song that perfectly grasps why you haven’t had sex in so long.

A/N: Enjoy the smot. And please use protection people. Better safe than surprised. I think this is dirtiest fic I’ve written so far.

Permanent tag list: @meganlane84

Part 1

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Prints

Summary: You and Sam leave your mark on the Impala.

Word Count: 2300

Warning: Smut, dom!Sam, dirty talk

A/N: Just something that happened. Enjoy! XOXO

“Is that a foot? Is there a footprint on the window?” Dean glares at the window through the rearview mirror, and you shift a little in the backseat to avoid his gaze.

It’s foggy and damp out, exactly the kind of weather that makes the windows fog up no matter what you do, and the three of you are piled in, ready for your next adventure.

Except there’s a footprint on Dean’s precious car.

And you know exactly where it came from.

Keep reading

Shortly after the overdose, Bob decided to tell Jack the story of why he really got put in the Stanley Cup as a baby.  It was Bob’s way of thanking the cup.

“After I won my first cup,” he told Jack, “I realized I’d achieved my dream, and I had married this amazing woman, but something still felt like it was missing.  I wanted to be a father.”  He told Jack how he and Alicia had tried to have a baby, but it just wasn’t happening.  As the months dragged on with more of the same, they started to get worried.  

“And even when you were worrying you’d never truly be happy you managed to win the cup again, yeah?  That’s the moral of the story?” Jack snapped.  Bob shook his head, reached out to run a hand over Jack’s back, like he could smooth down his son’s frayed nerves.  

“Non, non, non, that would be a terrible moral.  Actually my stats were worse that year than when I was a rookie.  But my team was incredible, and we made it to the cup again.  And here’s where the story gets good, you see, because I’d heard all kinds of wild legends through the league about ‘cup magic’ and how sometimes it would grant wishes”

“Or turn you into a fucking penguin,” Jack scoffed.

“Well I was playing for the Canadiens at the time, so I suppose there wasn’t much risk involved, but there was a whole lot of desperate hope.So on my cup day, after everyone else left, I sat down and had a chat with it,” he gestures to the table they’re sitting at.  “Right at this kitchen table.”

“Please tell me that’s the only part of this story that happened at this table,” Jack groaned.  Bob laughed.

This story, yes.”

“Papaaaa,”  Jack picked up his bowl of cereal and pointedly continued eating without letting his food touch the table.

“Oh for God’s sake, Jack, this table has been cleaned many times since, put your food down for a bit, I’m trying to have a moment with you here.”

“Alright, alright, fine.”  Jack obediently set the bowl aside and faced his father.

“As I was saying…” Bob cleared his throat.  “I talked to the cup.  I told it I didn’t care if I ever won it again.  All I wanted was a son.  If it would give me that, I promised, I wouldn’t ask to win so much as a faceoff for the rest of my life.  And I promised that I would love my son - that I would love you - unconditionally, more than anything in the world.”

“And you won a fuckton more awards anyway.”

“But,” Bob countered, “I didn’t win the cup again until after you were born when I was with the Pens.  And so when your mother brought you onto the ice to see me, I wanted us to put you in the cup, but it wasn’t supposed to pass along some kind of hockey magic and ensure the Zimmermann dynasty or whatever the fuck ESPN likes to say, alright?  We did it as a thank you.  We wanted the cup to see what a beautiful baby we had, and to feel how incredibly loved you were.”  Bob ran a hand over Jack’s newly-cropped hair, feeling the strands against his palm, almost as soft as when he used to sit next to Bob in his high chair smashing banana all over the tray.  “I kept my promise too,”  Bob said.  “I love you.  Unconditionally.  More than anything in the world.  And your mother and I just want to help you be happy, whatever that looks like.”  He smiled warmly at his son, letting all the pride he usually kept a lid on to keep from embarrassing Jack bubble up to the surface.  Jack looked down at his hands.

“How can you not be disappointed?  Look at me.”  Jack’s shoulders hunched in, shrinking him down, and Bob pressed his hand between Jack’s shoulder blades, rubbing circles in the way that always used to put him right to sleep as a child.

“I will always be proud of you, hockey or no.  Because you know what?”  Jack chanced a glance up at his father’s face and was held by his earnest expression.  “Winning the Stanley Cup isn’t even in my top hundred favorite memories anymore.  All of my best memories are with you and your mother.”  Jack didn’t say anything in response, and Bob was learning when to give him space to process, so he stood up, bending back down to kiss his son’s forehead as he snagged the now-soggy bowl of raisin bran from in front of him.

It took a few days for Bob to get a real response from Jack, and in the meantime he just left everything to percolate.  And then one night, Bob just couldn’t seem to fall asleep.  His knee wasn’t quite hurting, but it was on that edge where it just didn’t feel settled, and Alicia had been snoring, and at the back of his head he could feel some kind of humming, like he could feel the tense air in Jack’s room.  He’d gotten himself all worked up mulling that last one over until he had to get out of bed.  He stood in front of Jack’s bedroom door, looking at the light peeking out from below the doorjamb for minutes, listening to the sounds of floorboards creaking occasionally, pages rustling, a keyboard clacking.  After he’d gotten enough of the sounds of Jack just existing on the other side of the door to calm his racing heart, he went to the living room.  

He settled into the couch with a box of crackers and a nature documentary when he heard footsteps creaking on the stairs.  At first, he was expecting Alicia coming to call him back to bed, but the footfalls were too loud for her.  Bob tried not to look surprised when Jack rounded the corner, keeping his eyes carefully trained on Animal Planet.  He held up the crackers in greeting.

“Joining your old man for a midnight snack, eh?”

“Oh.  Um, sure.”  Jack padded over to the couch and made himself comfortable next to Bob, pulling down the afghan from the back of the sofa.  They stare at the TV in silence for a long while before Jack speaks up again, quietly.  “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“So…what exactly was better than winning the cup?”

anonymous asked:

Okay but wait if it was Lily's willingness to sacrifice herself to save Harry, why the hell did James's willingness to sacrifice himself to save both Lilly AND Harry not qualify???

ok but imagine it did save both of them and lily had to raise harry alone

  • she emerges from the rubble of her home, limping, her crying son in her arms
  • but otherwise they’re both ok
  • when sirius and remus find her sitting numbly in the front yard she can’t bring herself to tell them about the lifeless body she had to walk around in order to get her son out of the smoldering house
  • they do it for her
  • they pull james’ body from the wreckage, and summon a blanket to lay over him
  • with him laid out like that, lily wonders if harry thinks his dada is sleeping
  • distantly she can hear sirius and remus arguing
  • “i’ll kill him”
  • it takes a glare from lily to shut them up
  • “do you think” her voice is raspy- probably from how much she screamed when she heard james hit the floor
  • she holds harry tighter and reminds herself that, no matter how much it already felt like she’s dead without james, she isn’t and she has someone to live for
  • “do you really think,” she starts again, “that he would want you to do that, possibly get yourselves arrested, and leave harry and i alone?”
  • the boys nod
  • and slowly they sit down on either side of her
  • dumbledore and mcgonagall show up shortly after and usher them all to a new safe house
  • they explain james’ sacrifice 
  • how his love saved them both
  • they didn’t need to though- lily knew that was what saved them
  • they bury him in godric’s hollow, just a few spots away from his parents
  • and they try to continue living 
  • peter is found and sent to azkaban but it still doesn’t feel right
  • nothing feels right to lily
  • except harry
  • so she clings desperately to her son
  • she sends him to muggle school and gets a job at flourish and blotts
  • “i need to do something, remus, i’m so bored while harry is at school”
  • she reads harry stories before bed
  • they have play dates with the weasleys
  • sirius and remus come over every day and eat dinner with them
  • and teach harry how to ride a broom
  • marlene baby sits when lily has to work late
  • they go for walks in the park
  • they get a cat, much to sirius’ dismay
  • and when harry’s letter comes lily wonders if she shouldn’t send him
  • but for all that it took from her- the wizarding world gave her so much too
  • best friends, the wonders of magic
  • james
  • and harry
  • so she takes a deep breath and sends him to hogwarts because she knows it’s where he belongs
  • she meets hermione and the two bond instantly
  • harry writes her every week
  • she goes to every quidditch game 
  • and almost punches dumbledore for allowing her son, this little boy, to remain in the triwizard tournament
  • and finally, when she’s at bill and fleur’s wedding, lily sees- despite the polyjuice potion disguising him- a determined expression on harry’s face is so familiar
  • so much like james
  • so lily lets him go again
  • the next time she sees him is at hogwarts
  • and then again in hagrid’s arms
  • and her heart is on fire because she did not lose her husband, raise harry alone and go through hell just to lose him too
  • so she turns to the man who started all of this
  • but just as she’s raised her wand to finish him, who steps forward but neville longbottom
  • and soon after that it’s over
  • lily holds her son in her arms, strokes his hair like she did when he was little and cries because she truly thought she had lost everything
  • “there’s someone you all need to see” harry whispers
  • they find sirius and remus, he leads them into the forest, and turns a stone three times
  • and there’s james
  • lily is vaguely aware of choked sobs coming from behind her- remus or sirius or both, she can’t quite tell
  • james smiles at her and reaches out his hand to gently brush her face
  • she can barely feel it but at the same time it sets her world on fire just like the very first time he touched her
  • “hiya, prongs,” remus murmurs
  • “boys- you’ve aged well”
  • “shame you haven’t” sirius says
  • james smiles sadly at them before turning back to lily
  • “we never got our proper goodbye”
  • “don’t be a fool james potter- how can i say goodbye to you when you’ll never leave me?”
  • he gives her that look
  • the one that always meant “i love you”
  • “i love you too,” she whispers
  • and then he’s gone again
  • but lily leaves the forest with a small smile on her face because after all these years she knows that he never really was
Vodka

This is sorta lame and cheesy, but it’s basically just a fluffy Imagine about Tom being a cute boyfriend and taking care of his drunk girlfriend💗
Author’s Note: This is a oneshot inspired by sorta me? My mom had a party and made a ton of mixed drinks, and because I’m a dumb baby that never drinks, I forgot that vodka literally punches you in a face when you drink too much of it? Anyways, I got drunk and ended up crying to one of my cousins for about 40 minutes about all the reasons why I love Tom? Apparently, I’m even more cheesy and sentimental drunk than I am sober, who knew lol?

Vodka
She giggled to herself, ankles knocking into each other as she braced herself on the door of her apartment. She was absolutely, completely, and undeniably smashed. Truly, she couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten this way, but then again, she could barely recall her uber ride home.
Her hands kept shaking and she couldn’t find the correct key to fit itself into the doorknob. At this rate, she’d be out all night.
Tom paused the film he was watching and glanced back towards the front door. He was pretty sure that he could hear someone out there, but it was probably just their neighbor’s being noisy. Allowing the film to regain his full attention, he did his best to ignore the strange sounds outside, until he heard something that replicated her giggle.
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She was supposed to be at a sleepover with her best friends, not coming home at one in the morning? Tom got up and made his way over to the window by the door. Peeking out, he saw that the giggle outside indeed belonged to her, and she appeared to be struggling hugely with the task of opening the door.
Quickly crossing to help her inside, Tom yanked open the door and barely had time to catch her as she crashed in on top of him.
“Tom!” She yelped excitedly, making no effort to move off of him, instead cuddling further into him, while he laid sprawled across the floor with her lying on his chest. “Do you wanna hear a joke? It’s so dirty and I know how you love dirty things!” She explained innocently, her eyelashes tickling his neck.
Tom chuckled, “Darling, come on up here. We’ve gotta close the door.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you!” She leaned over him, “What did Cinderella do when she got to the ball?”
“You’re absolutely wrecked.” Tom laughed, taking in her mussed up appearance. She still looked good, how could she not? Her skirt was just shorter, her breasts were more exposed than she’d be comfortable with sober, and her eyemakeup was slightly smudged. Her hair tumbled down her back in messy waves and she teetered on her high heels.
If she had come home sober, Tom would’ve dragged her off to bed with him, but alas, she was drunk and needed to be taken care of.
“She gagged!” His girlfriend giggled, finishing up the butt of her joke. “Do you get it?”
Tom burst out laughing and cradled the back of her head as he rolled her onto her side so that he could get up to lock the door. “Yes, baby, I do. Where’d you hear that one?”
She didn’t even seem to have registered what he asked her because, in response, she said, “I don’t think I’d be Cinderella if I was a disney princess. She gags, but not me. I don’t gag, unless you make me.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re going to be so embarrassed in the morning.” Tom said, slipping his hands beneath her arms to pick her up. Helping her down the hallway to their bedroom, he asked, “Darling, how come you’re not with your friends right now?”
She blinked her eyes slowly and licked her lips. “We were all talking, and drinking. So, so, so much drinking. Did you know that vodka is strong? Like, it’s so strong, because, I’m not sure if you can tell, but,” She leaned closer to his chest and pressed herself up onto her tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “I’m kinda drunk right now.”
Turning his head towards her, he decided to play along, “Are you serious? I’d had no clue.”
“Well, yes! Anywho,” She dragged out the last letter of anywho before she tripped over herself again.
Tom caught her and slipped a firmer hand around her waist. “Anywho?” He pressed.
“We were all talking about our boyfriends, and how much we love them, because, I love you so much. And then, we started talking about the stuff we do with our boyfriends.” She paused in the hallway to poke Tom’s chest, “That’s my favorite shirt on you.”
“Darling, I’m not wearing a shirt?” Tom said, cocking his head to the side.
“I know,” She smiled, “That’s why it’s my favorite.” She gestured to Tom’s exposed midriff, “This is all great. Like, you look so good. The best.”
Tom dissolved into laughter and shook his head, “My silly, drunk girl. What are we going to do with you?”
“Well, you see, what I’d like you to do with me is make-out. That’s really why I came home. We started talking about some things,” She cupped her hand around Tom’s ear and whispered, “Sexy time things. And we all agreed that I should come home to you so that we could do the sexy time things. Because, I wanna do them, with you.”
Finally crossing the threshold of their bedroom, Tom placed her gently onto the bed and tried to ignore her last statement. Yes, she was his girlfriend. Yes, she’d just told him that she wanted him, and yes, he obviously wanted her too. But, she was drunk, much too drunk to consent to sex with him.
Tonight, Tom would be a good boyfriend and take care of her, but, in the morning, Tom would be a good boyfriend and he’d give her at least 2 orgasms with 2 advil pills to chase away her headache before breakfast.
“Sweet girl, we can’t right now. You’ve been drinking too much, you’re absolutely wasted.” Tom tried to reason with her.
“No, no I’m not. If I was drunk, could I do this?” She took a deep breath, “‘May I feel said he/ (I’ll squeal said she/ just once said he) It’s fun said she/ (May I touch said he/ How much said she/ A lot said he) Why not said she.”
Tom cut her off, “Sweetheart, nothing you say matters right now, you’re too drunk. Now just let me help you out of that dress.” Shaking his head, Tom laughed as he walked over to her with an oversized sweatshirt of his in his hand. Only she would be able to quote E.E. Cummings completely inebriated.
Kneeling in front of her, Tom lifted one of her feet onto his lap to unbuckled her high heeled shoe. Undoing the clasp and carefully removing the heel, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of her foot.
“You know, I like it a lot better when you’re on your knees for a different reason.” She pouted, sitting up to watch him.
Tom chuckled again as he began to remove her other shoe, “Trust me darling, so do I. Roll over-” He didn’t even get to finish his sentence when she interjected.
“Are you gonna spank me?” She asked, rolling over. Her tiny dress had ridden up even more and Tom had to bite down on his lower lip and clasp his hands together to prevent himself from doing just that.
“You’re making this really difficult.” Tom muttered.
“Then do something about it. I thought bad girls got spankings?” She teased him, eyeing the hardness growing within his pajama bottoms.
“Stop it, I’m trying to take care of you and you’re making it really hard.” Tom groaned.
“I can tell,” She giggled.
“For fucks sake,” Tom rolled his eyes, “I’m going to help you out of the dress, and that’s all the touching I’m going to do tonight. Then, I’m going to take off your makeup, and you’re going to go to sleep.”
“Tom,” She whined, wriggling around on the bed, “I don’t wanna. I want you to do me.”
Tom laughed, “You’re going to die in the morning, oh my gosh. You’re such a child.”
“Ugh!” She whined and flattened out onto the mattress.
Sitting down behind her on the bed, Tom rolled her over and unzipped the back of her dress. He did his best to not look, but the zipper kept getting caught in her hair, and he couldn’t ignore the soft skin of her back. He saw that she’d chosen to wear the pretty, light pink, lace bra that she’d been wearing the first time they’d had sex. Groaning over the memories, he helped her rid her body of the confining fabric of her dress and had slid his sweatshirt over her body.
She turned to lay on her back, “Will you at least kiss me?”
“Yes,” Tom placed a soft kiss on her mouth, “Do you wanna get up to go to the bathroom to take off your makeup, or do you want me to do it for you here?”
“Hmmm, here.” She sat up and stuck her hands inside of the sweatshirt, only to toss her bra off seconds later.
Tom’s eye lingered on her chest as he got up to retrieve her makeup wipes.
“I love youuuuu.” She said, hugging herself to his chest after Tom had successfully cleansed her face of all traces of makeup. “You’re my favorite, even though you refuse to fuck me.”
Tom tucked the duvet under her chin and crawled in behind her. He kissed her temple and curled an arm around her, “I love you too darling.”
He prayed to the high heavens above that she wouldn’t feel his excitement poking her in the back while she drifted off and into dreamland.

anonymous asked:

“You bake when you’re stressed and sometimes you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day, now I’m not complaining but are you okay?” au sterek? <3

OK, I wrote you a quick little thing. :)

now also on ao3

*

When Derek shows up at Stiles’ back door that morning with a basket full of about three dozen cookies, all carefully iced to look like Batman and Spider-Man, Stiles doesn’t say anything. He just gets up from the kitchen table and opens the screen door, and then he looks down at the basket for a long, long moment, and then he rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans.

He looks kind of… unkempt. He’s wearing the same sweatpants and lacrosse hoodie he’d had on two days ago when Derek saw him at his mailbox, and his hair is sticking up everywhere, and it’s obvious he hasn’t shaved in a while because there’s some actual stubble there. Derek didn’t think Stiles was even capable of facial hair. It only adds to his attractiveness, but still, Derek can’t help but be concerned.

Derek doesn’t usually start conversations, but today he feels like making an exception. “Are you okay? This is a lot more baking than usual, even for you.”

“What? What do you mean?” Stiles says, dropping his hands to his sides. His face cycles through about five or six different expressions before settling on something that’s probably trying to say “innocent and oblivious,” but… well. Derek might not know Stiles that well, but he knows Stiles is definitely not either of those things, ever.

“The cookies,” Derek says slowly. “That you leave on my doorstep a few times a week while I’m out on my morning run.”

Stiles glares down at the cookies Derek’s holding like they’ve betrayed him.

“We don’t talk about it,” Derek says slowly, unsure, “but I thought you knew that I knew it was you. I mean, no one else in the neighborhood even talks to me.”

Keep reading

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

Keep reading

Naughty Girl (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x reader
Genre: Smut, smut, smut.
Word count: 2.9k

Summary: Too busy chatting with Yoongi on the phone, Jungkook wanted to tease you even more by paying you no attention as you winded him up and got yourself off by riding his thigh.


WARNINGS:
oral, thigh riding, dom!kook, dirty talk etc. - Reader Discretion is advised.


Keep reading

“How ‘bout, Muffin?”

A/N: howdy! this one was requested ((ty you so much for this request honestly!! pls send in more if you have any!!) and I hope I brought your idea to life. I added a bit of a backstory to add some fluff but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out so idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

request: “Can you do a Bucky imagine where the reader has superpowers and she accidentally breaks Bucky’s metal arm by her powers or they have super strength and accidentally slammed his arm in a door or something like that. And reader feels super bad and sits with Bucky has Tony fixes his arm and the reader won’t stop apologizing and it ends in fluff”

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: slight angst idk – more like banter?? Two implied swear words. One swear word. Bit of second hand embarrassment and rejection

word count: 5.8k (wowza, idk is it better to do longer imagines or short and snappy ones??  lemme know pls)

masterlist

Originally posted by minmiin1d

Sluggishly, you dragged your slipper clad feet across the floor, slapping a hand over your mouth as you yawned loudly. You felt the comforter from your bed trailing behind you as you held it around your body, resembling a makeshift cape. You were sure you looked like a mess; you could feel your hair falling messily out of the bun you had strategically placed it in last night, your pyjama top slipping off your shoulders and you were certain that there were prominent bags lining your eyes. Smiling lazily, you mumbled a small “good morning” to Steve and Natasha who were fumbling in the kitchen preparing their breakfast. They returned your greeting, both however, seemingly much more awake than you were. Not bothering to suppress your sigh, you nudged Steve with your shoulder as you walked past. 

“Remind me again: why the hell do we need to wake up at an ungodly hour to practice punching each other?” You groggily mumble, your voice laced with sleep, narrowing your eyes when Steve laughed at you. 

Keep reading

Zach asking you to sleep over at his house - Part 2

A/N: Sorry on such a long wait for this imagine. I hope that it was worth it though. Enjoy my lovelies:)


The final bell rings, signalling the end of class and also the end of the school day. You start packing up your things with shaky hands, your nerves getting the best of you. It’s Friday today. Which means it’s the beginning of the weekend. This also means that you will be going to Zach’s house, staying there for the next couple of days.

You have been able to stay calm and collected the next few days after he had asked you to sleep over at his house for the weekend, but right now you can’t help but start to feel really antsy. 

Keep reading

Power Rangers Playing Mario Kart Headcanon

This was requested by @seriouslyslippingoutofcontrol

  •  They play every Saturday in Billy’s basement. His mom makes like a full seven layer dip and everything.
  • They order a pizza each and billy’s mom doesn’t even bat an eye.
  • Jason never gets to play the first round. So he makes it a point to lay across the whole couch. The group just sits on top of him. Except Jasons head will be in Billy’s lap…… with his permission of course  
  • Trini no matter how hard she tries can never break past 5th place, except for once on a rare occasion. She doesn’t like to talk about it. 
  • Zack always comes in last Place and blames Trini for it. This usually ends in a wrestling match on the floor. Trini usually coming out on top until Kim joins the mess and wins the battle.
  • Billy almost always wins. He studied the game far too much to lose to these simpletons.
  • Kim plays to screw up other peoples games. She is the one to consistently  send out the blue shell on Billy. “I can’t even be mad cause thats my color”
  • One time Trini was actually in first place then Kim kissed her as a distraction. it was a simple peck, but she was a mess. Billy won the match not understanding why his fellow rangers roared with laughter as Trini sat there in shock.
  • Jason got so into the game once that he knocked the 7 layer dip clear across the room. it took them hours to clean it up “how did this shit end up OUTSIDE of the window?!?!?”
  • Whenever Jason gets close to winning zack is there to slap his remote out of his hand, resulting in another wrestling match.
  • The night usually ends with them in a pile sleeping on the floor with the game menu playing on loop, Until Billy’s mom comes downstairs Turns off the television then lays blankets over the bunch of them
His || Jungkook || 0.18

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13| 0.14 | 0.15 | 0.16 | 0.17 | 0.18

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Give me a break.

Hii! I know it’s been forever since I wrote something and I’m very sorry. There’s been so much on my mind lately and so many things that made me feel overwhelmed and I just needed to sort it out. This is kind of very loosely based on ‘Love me or leave me’ by Little Mix because someone requested it. I hope you like it. I plan on writing a second part.xxx

“Well, maybe I don’t fucking care anymore!”
It seemed like his booming voice made the whole house vibrate. It seemed like it cut right through Y/N. His words felt like he took a knife and rammed it into her heart and to top it all off he twisted it slowly so the pain had time to spread.
These last weeks felt like nothing but pain for her. He was never home and even when he was he somehow wasn’t. She let him in and he pushed her away. He pushed her so far away she couldn’t feel him anymore.
“Why are you still here then!?”
She had had enough. If he didn’t care anymore he could walk out the door and never come back.
Harry scoffed, turned around and walked up the stairs. When he slammed the bedroom door shut Y/N could feel the last bit of connection between them slipping away completely.
It’s never been this harsh. They slammed doors and yelled hurtful things before but it’s never been like this. Somehow this felt final.
She didn’t know how it happened, how everything between them began to crumble. But it did.
She didn’t feel his loving touch in at least three months. She didn’t hear his loving words in at least three months.
They fought almost every day and when they didn’t fight they didn’t talk to each other at all. Mornings were spent alone and cold, both waking up at their own times without a good morning kiss or a cuddle or anything at all. Nights were even worse. They went to sleep in the same bed but facing away from each other. They never solved their problems before bed. They broke their rule every single night and went to bed angry.
And even though right now Y/N might think it would be better if their paths would part she also knew she wouldn’t recover from it. Harry was the love of her life. She knew she could never be happy without him.
And so she broke down. Ugly sobs and fat tears. The whole weight of the last few months finally got too much and she couldn’t take it anymore. She was sure she’s never cried this much in her entire life. She was sure she never felt so hurt but numb at the same time before.
She didn’t know what the hell went wrong. What she did to push him away. What she did that made him stop loving her.
He doesn’t love you anymore.
Those were the words that constantly replayed in her head, after every fight.
He hates me.
She couldn’t find another explanation. That was the only reason she could think of as to why he wasn’t interested in fixing things between them.

When she met him she was sure he was the most wonderful person she’s ever met. He looked at her as if she was the most important thing on earth. He cooked the most delicious dinner for her. He held doors for her. He made her laugh and feel appreciated.
When she really got to know him she was knocked off her feet. He was the most gentle and loving man she could have ever imagined. He was there for her. He was the place she ran to when the world overwhelmed her. He was her happy place. Her home.
When things got a bit rough they stuck together. They were a team. They faced everything together and fought through it.
Y/N was the happiest girl ever. She thought she found her forever. Her happily ever after.
Until the perfect relationship began to change into great, then good, then normal and then…
Into whatever they had now.
She couldn’t take it anymore. And the worst thing was that there was no way out of this hell. They can’t go back to where they’ve once been. And parting ways? No fucking way could she survive without him.

It was three hours and twenty tissues later when Harry finally exited the bedroom and came down the stairs. Y/N was standing in front of the big living room window which had a view over what seemed like half of London. Her back was turned to Harry, her hair messy and her frame slightly shaking.
She knew that whatever would come now would change everything. She knew that they reached a point were something had to happen. Anything.
Harry took a deep breath and took the last few step towards her. Y/N closed her eyes when she felt his warmth. She hadn’t felt it in so long.
When he reached his hand out thread his fingers through hers she flinched. Harry could feel his heart breaking at her reaction to his touch. He closed the gap between them and pressed his chest flush against her back. That’s when Y/N started to cry again. Her whole body shook with the force of her tears and the whimpers and sobs seemed to get louder with every passing second.
“Shhh.” Harry tried to calm her and finally wrapped his arms around her from behind.
He nuzzled his face into her neck where she always smelled so good and that’s when he realized how long he hasn’t done that.
Y/N moved her arms so she could intertwine both her hands with his. She didn’t remember the last time she held his hand. She used to love his hands so much, always playing with his fingers and kissing his knuckles.
Harry kept pressing tiny kisses to her shoulder and squeezed her tighter to him every time a whimper left her lips.
They stood like that for at least ten minutes before Y/N turned around in his arms and hugged him again. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his hands stroking softly over her back while her hands were fisting his shirt. She couldn’t get close enough. She needed him closer. Her hands wandered down underneath his shirt to touch his skin. Harry shuddered when her cold hands touched his skin but he knew she needed this. She hasn’t felt his skin in forever. It almost felt foreign.

When they finally pulled away from each other both of them were scared to let go. This couldn’t be it. They needed each other.
“We have to talk, Harry.” she whispered and pressed her forehead against his.
“I know, my love.”
My love. Was she still his love?
She thought he hated her.
They sat down at the kitchen table across from each other. Both of them couldn’t be fast enough to reach out for each other again and when their hands bumped against each other they both laughed softly. For the first time in months.
None of them wanted to be the first to say anything. Until Harry finally couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“I didn’t mean anything that I said earlier. Or… in the last few weeks. God, what is happening with us?”
“I don’t know, Harry. But it can’t keep going like this. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Me neither, love. I know I didn’t show how much it was affecting me but I want you to know that I feel just as broken as you do.”
Broken. Is that what they’ve become?
“I… I thought you hated me. During all these times you pulled away or turned your back towards me, I thought you hated me.”
Harry’s free hand reached out to hers so he could clasp her hand in both of his.
“I never ever hated you. Not for a second. And I never will.”
Y/N felt like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders and she felt like she could breath again.
“I love you so much, darling.” Harry whimpered.
Her head snapped up so she could look at him and when she saw tears running down his cheek she reached over the table to wipe them away.
“I love you too, Harry. So much.”
Harry removed her hand from his face and pressed gentle kiss to ever knuckle.
“What are we going to do, love? I want to fix this. I want to go back to being the happiest couple ever. I want to go back to being happy with each other.”
“Me too, Harry. God, I’d do everything to get back to what we once had.”
They stared into each other’s eyes until Y/N cleared her throat and diverted her eyes to the table.
“I-I think we need a break.”
Harry’s whole world stopped in that moment. His mouth fell open and his brows furrowed. He pulled his hands from hers and a breathless ‘no’ left his lips.
“No.” He repeated after a moment.
“No way.”
“Harry, listen. I-”
“No!” he shouted.
Y/N flinched and her ears began to ring like every time he raised his voice at her. Her eyes closed and tears began to dribble down her cheeks.
“Do you think I’m stupid? I know exactly what’s going to happen when we do that. You’re going to realize just how unhappy I make you and that you are so sick and tired of me and you’ll never come back. Or you’ll find someone else who makes you laugh more than I ever did. God, I’m going to be gone for two weeks for promo. Is that not enough distance and space for you?!“
“Harry, I need time okay? I need time to take care of myself. I need time for sorting things out. I need time so that this all can work again and if you’re honest, you need it too.”
He laughed humorlessly and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You will have that time when I’m gone.”
“I-I don’t think two weeks are going to be enough.”
His eyes caught hers and she swore she’s never seen him look at her like that. So sad but angry at the same time.
“L-Longer?”
“Two weeks are nothing, Harry.”
“There’s been times when you couldn’t go a single day without me. There’s been times where two weeks without each other seemed like the end of the world.”
She closed her eyes and tried to control the tears which constantly blurred her sight.
“I don’t think we can sort anything out in two weeks.”
“I don’t think we can sort anything out when we’re away from each other.”
“Harry, please.”
He closed his eyes briefly and sighed.
“How long?”
“T-Two months?”
“No fucking way!”
This time it was Y/N’s turn to sigh.
“Harry, I-”
“One month. And not a single day longer.”
She caught his eyes for a moment before she nodded.
“Alright.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, both didn’t know what to say.
“I-I thought I’d stay in a hotel for the two weeks before you’re gone and then I’ll come back.”
“No.”
“Harry,-”
“No. Please, I-… I want to know you’re safe. You’ll stay here and I’ll stay with Gemma.”
“If that’s okay with you.”
“No, it’s actually not.”
She looked at him with the saddest eyes he ever saw and he shook his head and and sighed.
“I’m gonna go pack some stuff and then you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”
“Harry, I did not suggest a break because I want to get away from you as quickly as possible. I want to fix this. And I feel like some distance is the only way to sort things out. Or at least make the first step.”
He didn’t say anything but just left the kitchen and went upstairs to pack a few things. For some reason Y/N couldn’t help but feel guilty. Of course she knew he wouldn’t be happy with taking a break, she wasn’t either. But she hoped he could at least understand where she came from.

When he came down the stairs half an hour later with two big duffle bags Y/N almost felt like crying again. She watched him, how he placed them beside the front door, wiped his tears away, took a deep breath and turned around to make his way to the kitchen so he could say goodbye but she was already standing in the foyer. They stared at each other for a few moments before Harry cleared his throat and removed a greasy strand of hair from his face.
“I’ll go now, I guess.”
“Yeah.” Y/N nodded and sniffled.
He looked at her for another few seconds before he let out a frustrated sigh.
“Can I at least get a hug?”
He saw the surprise on her face but she nodded anyway and took the last few steps towards him. She slung her arms tightly around his neck and pressed her body tightly to his and Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her to his chest. He pressed kisses to her shoulder and neck and stroked over her back in gentle patterns.
When they pulled away a bit Y/N reached up to cup his cheeks and stroke over his skin.
“I love you. Nothing changed about that and nothing is going to change. I don’t want you to worry about me breaking up with you. I couldn’t imagine life without you.”
Harry pressed his forehead to hers and pulled her body even closer.
“Will you say goodbye when I’ll leave for New York? Don’t think I could leave without seeing you before.”
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
Harry sighed but nodded.
“C-Can I kiss you?” he asked her in a whisper.
She leaned in and connected her lips to his as an answer, his bottom lip slipping between hers. She kissed him four times before she pulled away a bit to look up at him again.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
She nodded and smiled softly at him.
“I love you, too.”
Harry gazed into her eyes for another few seconds before he pressed a few gentle kisses against her lips again. He pulled away from her then and took his duffle bags.
“I’ll let you know when I’ll leave for New York. You can call me or come over anytime you need, okay?”
“Okay. You can come over or call as well. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”
He nodded and opened the door.
“Take care, yeah?”
“You too, love.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And just like that he left.

“What A Ride” A. Andrews x Reader imagine

WARNING(S)  Okay I have only one thing to say… don’t drive and get’s fingered by your boyfriend at the same time! Reference of fingering. / not edited \

IMAGINE ABOUT: When you and your boi go on a interesting ride. 

Archie reached across the table and laced the fingers on our right hand together, igniting that familiar warmth. A half-smile bloomed on Achie’s lips as he glanced at my neck for a moment before he glanced at my neck for a moment before meeting my gaze. He did that a lot–stared at the hickey he gave me. And every time he did, this look would flash in his eyes just for a second, like he was overwhelmed with what it meant. 

“Have I ever told you just how much I like you?” 

My own lips tugged upwards. “Not nearly enogh.” 

He lifted our intertwined hands and pressed a kiss against my fingers, turning the flame that sizzled between us into a forest fire which burned pleasantly alond my veins. “I really, really like you, Y/N. Like, a lot.” 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Archie chuckled, his dimple teasing me. “Your pride’s going tto end up killing you one day.” 

I stuck my tongue out in response. And then. “Are you finished your milkshake? Or do you want to sit here all day and discuss more of your deepest, darkest secrets? The lunch menu did look pretty tempting…” 

Every day this week we had gone out for either breakfast, lunch or dinner, but never two in one. Archie would stroll into whatever room or class I was in all casual, and tell me to get ready, or tell me we were leaving. It had become a thing. Having lunch here would definitely break some kind of rule, and I personally liked the little routine we had going. 

“Definitely finished.” 

After paying the bill, Archnie and I exited the dinner and climbed inside his car. It wasn’t until we were ten minutes into the ride, singing along to the radio that I noticed we weren’t taking the usual route home. 

“Where are we going?” I asked. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the line,” Archie replied, grinning. 

“Yeah, well, I’m free styling,” I dead-panned, turning down the radio. “And you’re deflecting.” 

He chuckled. “We’re going nowhere, babe.” 

Archie,” I groaned 

Y/N,” he mimicked 

“Come on, for all I know you could be taking me to a slaughterhouse where I finally meet my end.” 

The sound of Archie’s laughter filled the car. “A slaughterhouse? Seriously, where do you came up with this stuff? I’m going to start writting them down.” 

“Okay, so maybe I watch a lot of horror movies. Sue me.” 

“Yeah, don’t I know it.” 

Okay, and perhaps I had talked Archie into watching one or two horror movies with me, and it was very possible the he wasn’t the biggest fan of the genre. But in my defence, Veronica had forced Titanic on Betty and I three times in one week, and I fugured it was as good a way as any to replace the heartbreaking imagine of Leonardo DiCaprio sinking at the bottom of the ocea. 

There was totally enogh space on that door, contrary to Betty’s beliefs. 

“I take that a s no, then?” I said

Archie rolled his eyes. “You’re relentless. We relly are going nowhere, Y/N. I just feel like driving arond for a while.” 

“And why’s that?” I asked, not buying it. 

“Because I want you all to myself for a little longer before we have to go back home when privacy is a luxury the universe clearly doesn’t think we deserve.” 

Oh. 

A small smile toyed on the end of my mouth. “Okay,” I said, just like that. “You win. But if we’re just going to be driving around—” 

“No.” 

My mouth fell open at Archie’s abrupt interruption. “You don’t even know what I was going to say!” 

He rolled his eyes. “No, you can’t drive my car. Is that better?” 

So maybe I had asked Archie a few dozen times if he would let me drive, and maybe his answer was the same every time. And maybe I had stupidly told him about the incident with mymother’s car back in April. But I hadn’t sat behind the wheel of a car, much less driven one, since I’d got here. And with Riverdale territory, I was craving speed. 

Luckily for me, we reached a red light, so like the evil enchantress I was turning out to me, I leaned over and closer the gap between Archie and I. Resting one hand on his thigh, I whispered, “Please?” in his ear. 

Archie cleared his throat. “No.” 

Slowly, I dragged my fingers along the inside of his thigh, causing him o grip the steering wheel that little bit tighter. Then I pressed a kiss against the sensitive spot under his jaw, and when my tongue flicked out, tasting his warm skin, I knew I had him. 

Y/N.” 

“Mmm?” I hummed as I kissed along his neck, feeling his pulse vibrate against me. 

“You’re going to make me crash.” he said breathily, and I realised het the light must have turned green. When my tongue glided across his senstive spot again, Archie surrendered. “Fuck.Okay.” 

Just like that, I pulled away, settling back into my seat. “See, that wasn’t too hard, was it” I said, all casual, as if my pulse wasn’t fluttering out of control ass well. 

I was so going to Hell. 

Archie turned into an empty-one way street and pulled over on the side before pushing his seat as far as it was build to go, taking off his seatbelt and then taking off mine. 

“What are y—” 

Archie efforlessly lifted me from my seat, as if I was a feather, ignoring my surprised squeal. And then he placed me between his muscular thigs, my back pressed against him and his hands holding my waist. Luckily for him, his choice of transport today had been his spacious Range Rover, which had enogh room in the driver’s seat for us both, considering the fact that I was plastered all over him. 

I knew this was too good to be true. 

“Come on, you didn’t really think I was going to let you behind the wheel of my car all by yourself, did you, babe?” Archie said, his deep voice vibrating against me. I could feel his heart beating wildly, a sign that he was still flustered. 

I runed my head and glared at him, but his smut smirk only grew. “I’m not a child, Archie. This is ridiculous,” I huffed. 

“I prefer the term compromise.” And then “Well, what are you waiting for? I thought you wanted to drive.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

Still, I turned on the ignition and started driving, realising that Archie had purposefully choosen a desolate area where there was only a plethora of trees on both sides of the street. I could go as fast or as slow as I desired, and there was no way we were going to get pulled over for our very illegal seating arrangment. 

I hadn’t really been paying much attention to the fact that I was sitting between Archie’s thigs with my ass and back pressed against him, or to the fact that his delicious scent was clinging to me, or even the fact that I could feel every breath he took. But when his hands moved from my waist to rest on top of my thighs, thanks to the mini denim skirt I was wearing, the realisation hit me like a ton of bricks and it became very hard to concentrate. 

Archie much have noticed my grip tighten on the steering wheel. “What’s wrong?” he asked,, all sweet and casual. 

Guess he was going to be joining me in Hell. 

“Nothing,” I answered, speeding up a little bit. Yes, I thought. This was good. Go faster. 

And then Archie spread my legs apart ever so slightly and pressed a soft kiss under my ear, and everything inside me liquified. Payback was a bitch. 

“What are you doing?” I asked breathily, thankful that there we no cars or pedistrains lurking around because this was deifnition of dangerous, times a thousand. 

Archie’s tongue and teeth glided sensationally across my neck, pausing only to kiss my hickey. “Concentrate on driving Y/N,” he said in a low voice, his fingers trailing like tiny snakes along my thigs, travelling higher and higher. Goosebumps scattered all over my skin. 

“I can’t,” I rasped, leaning further against his solid chest. When I did, I felt that Archie was just as turned on as I was, and I knew then that I was definitely going to wrap this car around a tree. 

“You can,” he whispered, continuing to rain kisess all over my neck and collarbone. When he pushed my skirt up, fingers brushing slowly–painfully fucking–slowly against my lace panties. I all but slammed my foot down on the brake. 

Concentrate on driving, my ass. 

Archie chuckled into my neck, the sound deep and husky, and doing my arousal absolutely no favours. “Park on the side of the street.” 

I had never been so happy to follow one of Archie Andrew’s orders. 

Once I had safely parked, Archie turned me around so that I was stradding him, my skirt now pushed all the way up to my hips. His lips immediately found mine in a surprisingly soft, slow kiss, turning my bones into honey. It was like Archie needed me to know that this was all him– that he was in complete control. 

With our lips fused, I tugged the bottom of Archie’s henley, wanting to feel his skin and muscles in all their glory. We broke away for only a moment as he pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it on the passenger seat. 

Thank God for tinted windows and empty streets. 

And the hell with giving a damn. 

My hands snaked across Archie’s chest–across his heart– over his broad shoulders and rested on his muscular back. When his hand went in between my legs and his fingertip instantly found the right spot, stroking slowly and gently, everything inside me imploded wonderfully. 

Archie..” I moaned his name like my favourite prayer, titling my head back in pleasure. 

“Look at me,” Archie said, his deep voice coated in desire. 

I did as told, meeting Archie’s beautiful eyes, and then I felt the urge to kiss the life out of him. His mouth curled upwards in a half-smirk and then his finger slipped inside me, causing me to cry out in euphoria. 

Oh, my God.” 

“That’s not my name,” Archie said and I cold hear the wolfish grin in his voice as his fingers continued to caress and explore, sending a series of tremors down my entire body. Then he slipped another finger inside me and my nails clawed at his back, cluthing on for a dear life whilst his touch incinerated me. 

“Open your eyes, love.” 

I menaged to shake my head in response, unable to do anything other than gasp and moan waiting agonisingly for my release. This was pure heaven. 

Archie used his other hand— the one that wasn’t totally destroying all my self-control– to gently pull my chin towards him so he could kiss me, and another tsunami of delight crashed oover me. “Please?” he asked softly, lips gazing mine. 

My eyes fluttered open but they were hooded and I was so damn close to my release, I could feel the anticipation spreading all through my limbs. My nerves crackled and sputtered like sparklers before electicity surged through every atom in my body. 

“You’re the prettiest fucking person I’ve ever seen,” Archie rasped, his expression one of awe and appreciation. 

And then he finally granted me my release, and I exploded like a supernova, inadvertently dragging my nails alond Archie’s spine and digging then into his lower back as I cried out in pure, unadulterated exstasy. My lungs felt positively destroyed and I was sure my ribcage was going to shatter and splinter my organs, the sensation was that intense. I was left panting and most likely sweating as I leaned my head against Archie’s shoulder. 

Holy fucking shit. Archie Andrews was a goddamn wizard. 

I felt Archie raise his hand to his mouth and I knew, without even looking, that he was licking his fingers tasting me. “Perfect,” he mumbled. Then he pressed a kiss into my hair and let his hands go under my t-shirt, resting his palms on my lower back. I wrapped my arms around his neck: sitting like this, it felt something close to home.

“Sorry about your back. Think I drew blood,” I mumbled into his warm skin, though I had a suspicion that he actually liked it when I clawed his back. 

I felt his laugh before I head it. “It’s okay. Sorry in advance about your sore throat,” he teased. It was his fault for being so damnn good with his hands/ 

I lifted my head from his shoulder to stick my tongue out but stopped short when I was the look of absolute, unwavering devotion in his eyes, and the lazy smile on his face. He was the picture of serenity. So, instead, I kissed his chest, then his collarbone, his neck and then his jaw, which I felt clench. 

“Y/N,” Archie said. “I really, really don’t want our first time to be in a car.” 

I smiled and pressed a final kiss against his cheek before looking at him. 

“That’s good,” I replied. Neither did I. 

“I’m not a saint, though.” 

This time I laughed. “No shit?” 

“You’re terrible,” Archie responded. “And I’m being serious. Any self-control I had left is hanging by a thread. 

“If I’m not mistaken, you were the one who hive me a nuclear orgasm. I was merely an innocent bystander.” 

Archie grinned, dimples and all. “Nuclear, huh?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.” 

He chuckled. “Y/N Y/L/N, if I didn’t know you any better I’d say I just rocked your world. And it’s barely even midday.: 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Next time. I’ll do the honours.” 

Archie shook his head and looked up, like he was hoping the roof would open and then the sky would split in half and God would hand him some of that self-control he wanted to bad. “Our first time is not going to be in a car,” he told himself. 

I tried not to laugh. “You said that already,” 

“It’s not,” he insisted, and then groaned when I kissed the senstive spot under his jaw. Purgatory was completely out in the question for me. 

“What were you saying again?” 

And then In a flash, I was off Archie’s lap and sitting in the passenger seat, and he was wearing his henley again. I was laghing so hard whilst I put on my seatbelt. I thought I was going to run out of the little oxygen I had left in my lungs. 

“You,” Archie sad, out of breath, as he turned the car on, “Babe, are you sorceress.” 

“Pot. Kettle. Black.” 

“I didn’t remember you complaning.” 

This time I did stuck my tongue out. 

Archie just laughed. “Best breakfast ever.” 



I really, really hope you like it!



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