the reader blog

Forgetting Something

Pairing: Tony x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 322

A/N: Day 19 of the Domestic Fluff Challenge. A little later now that I’m back and just writing day by day. Happy reading!


“God I feel like I’m forgetting something!” Y/N stood by the front door, purse on her shoulder, and Kate’s hand in hers.

“Like what? We’re just going to Naomi’s for the cookout, we don’t need that much.” Tony stopped in front of her with Jenny in her carrier in one hand and the diaper bag in the other.

“I don’t know, I just feel like I’m supposed to have something else with me and I just can’t remember what.” Y/N had experienced the nagging feeling of forgetting something before, but it was generally a false alarm and she had everything she needed. After two children? It was a totally different story. Now, if she felt like she was forgetting something, she generally was and thought of it later.

“Babe, she only lives five minutes away. Whatever it is we can come back and get it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Alright let’s go.” They loaded the girls into the car and headed for Naomi’s. As soon as they walked into the house, Y/N stopped in her tracks.

“Y/N/N?” Naomi looked at her friend with a puzzled expression. “You okay there?”

“Dammit! I knew I was missing something. That damn potato salad I spent last night making. I left it in the fridge!” Y/N threw her hands up with a laugh and an ‘I told you so’ look at Tony.

“Whoops!” Naomi giggled as she pulled Jenny out of the carrier to snuggle her. “Still haven’t recovered from baby brain yet huh?”

“I don’t know if I ever will!” Y/N laughed as she combed her fingers through Kate’s hair who was currently leaning against her legs.

“I’ll run back home and get it.” Tony volunteered not minding a little quiet time to himself for the next ten or so minutes.

“Thanks babe.” Y/N pecked a kiss to his lips as he headed back out to the car.

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anonymous asked:

Hi can I request an imagine for anyone you want, with a younger teamate who's a klutz and is constantly tripping over themselves or nothing, and walking into things, on and off the battlefield? Feel free to ignore this if its to confuzing to write. Thank you!

This ain’t great (or even good) but I felt Rein needed some love. Also as the clumsiest person on this planet I 100000% relate to this request.


You ran your fingers along the bruises that littered your arm. At this point you were beginning to look like a damn dalmation with all the marks littering your skin. Your mission success rate was assurance that you were a good agent, but your clumsiness made you feel you weren’t made for stealth or saving the world. You could barely save yourself from falling over most of the time! You feared you were becoming a hazard to your team. What if your clumsiness got someone you loved hurt? Or worse? No. You couldn’t have that. Maybe the best way to protect people was to stop trying to protect them. It was time to resign.

You were pulled yanked away from your thoughts as you collided with one of the plotted plants that littered the hallway. What the hell was the point of them anyway?! Just to torment you? You flailed, trying to regain your balance, trying to grab on to something to stop the fall, anything. You closed your eyes and prepared yourself for the collision. Suddenly your crash was yanked to a halt by strong arms wrapping around your middle. You peaked an eye open as you were helped back to your feet properly by the same arms.

“Aha! Age has still not affected my reflexes! Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Reinhardt asked, bending down to fix the plant you had knocked over.

“Oh-! Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you. Sorry about all that,” you replied sheepishly.

“No need for apologies. We all have out slip ups. Where are you off to in such a rush?”

“Nowhere. Just…I…Um…” you stammered, trying to think of any excuse. You looked up at him and it was like a punch to your gut. You couldn’t lie to him. “I’m actually just going to discuss my resignation.”

“What?!” the large man boomed, “Are you unhappy here?”

“No no no!” you assured him, “It’s just… We all know I’m clumsy, to put it mildly, and I’m going to get someone hurt. I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to you because of me-“

You were cut off by his boisterous laughter, accompanied with a large hand clapping you on the back with enough force to knock the breath from you.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” he chuckled, draping an arm across your shoulder and leading you away. “So you fall over a bit or knock into things. You are still a good agent. And a good person. We need more people like you fighting the good fight! Do not be disheartened, my friend. If you fall, your family here will always be there to catch you. If you get a bruise we will be here to help you heal. Do not worry about the dangers of the battle, for I will be your shield!”

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Letterman

Originally posted by dailycwriverdale

A/N: I fought through some wicked writer’s block for this (apologies in advance for if it’s not great) so I hope I can get properly back on track now I’ve forced myself out of my rut 

Request: Archie x River vixen!reader where they make out in Freds truck and he catches them.

Word Count: 1,682

Warnings:There’s some heavy duty smooching involved.

Keep reading

Hello - Newt x Reader

Prompt: A little drabble! Soulmate AU where everyone is born with the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrist. Reader is completely fed up with her quest to find her soulmate, as the only hint she has is the incredibly vague black letters that have always been stamped across her wrist.

Warnings: Swearing, bullying, use of alcohol, harassment and unwanted advances

God, you hated your soulmate tattoo.

What sort of a soulmate tattoo was “hello”? You had detested it your entire life. What vague-ass higher power had decided when they gave you your tattoo to stop at “hello”? How would you know for sure when you met your soulmate? Couldn’t they have elaborated a little bit? Just a few more words? A proper sentence that you could actually recognize your soulmate with? But no, you were stuck with the most common greeting in the English language tattooed permanently into your skin. Hello. What absolute bullshit.

Every time someone greeted you with that simple phrase, your eyes would narrow, you would square your shoulders, and you would spit back the most distinct and unmistakable response you possibly could. You were not going to be the soulmate couple that had “hello” on both of your wrists. Your lucky, lucky soulmate probably had something ridiculous, like “Whatever you say,” or “Did you know that a hippopotamus’s sweat is red?” because you absolutely had to stand out, and you made sure that your replies to “hello” always did. There was no other way to be sure that anyone and everyone who said “hello” to you wasn’t your soulmate.

What a useless tattoo.

All throughout your school years at Ilvermorny, you were completely embarrassed to show people your tattoo. Unfortunately, when your classmates found out, they had great fun sending people you had never spoken to before up to say “hello” to you.

Your reaction was always hilarious, so they kept doing it. Your responses ranged from “Go fuck yourself,” to “Nice try guys, but I’ve already spoken with her before,” to straight up punching one student right in the jaw when he got a little too friendly with his hands as he delivered his “hello”.

You started to feel a little bad for your actual soulmate as your replies increased in hostility. They probably had a particularly colorful quote of yours. “Go to hell,” perhaps, or maybe “Who the fuck put you up to it this time?”

When you graduated, your defensive nature had thankfully melted a little. You had switched to solely offering people fun animal facts whenever they said “hello” to you, and it was far less stressful. “Seahorse mates hold each other’s tails so they don’t lose each other,” was a favorite of yours, as was “Cows have best friends.”

One evening, you were at a bar with your roommates Queenie and Tina, and you were in no mood for advances from anyone. You had decided to date, as many people with soulmates do, just to pass time while you waited for your soulmate to arrive, but your recent significant other had found their soulmate and left you in the dust. It was incredibly depressing, and you just really wanted a drink.

A man waltzed up to you, sliding into the chair beside you and offering a hand to shake. “Hello,” he said with a grin. You looked over at him, as annoyed as you were drunk, and reached out to flip his arm over and look at his wrist.

“Alright, let’s get this over with I’m not in the mood to think of a fun fact,” you grumbled, pulling back his sleeve to look at his wrist.

It wasn’t really with disappointment that you read the words “I’m so sorry I ran over your dog,” in black ink on his wrist, and you patted his hand drunkenly.

“Good luck with that one, buddy,” you slurred, getting to your feet and heading toward the door. He blinked after you, bewildered, and then returned to his drink.

Such was a usual encounter for you, and by the time Tina dragged a certain magizooligist into your home, you were sick and tired of your goddamn animal facts.

“Queenie, (y/n)!” Tina called out to you. You peeked your head around the corner where you were helping Queenie mend dresses, and you saw with a pang of confusion that Tina had brought two men along with her.

Queenie voiced your amazement, grinning and chirping “Teenie! You brought men home!”

You approached your friend, not bothering with the fact that you were clad in only a slip, and you blinked at her in disbelief. “Who are they?”

“This is a no-maj, and this is Mr. Scamander. He’s responsible for his injuries,” Tina said wearily, pointing her finger at the sweaty, overwhelmed man who offered you a disoriented half-smile before fixing his gaze back on Queenie, who giggled.

Mr. Scamander gave you a little wave. “Hello,” he said.

You let out a slow puff of air, your frustration resurfacing as your hand shot forward to grab his wrist. “Merlin’s Beard, just show me the goddamn tattoo,” you grumbled without thinking. You were in total shock when you slipped his sleeve back and found yourself face-to-face with your own words.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, and he looked just as startled. A hush fell over the room, and you felt your face grow hot. “Sorry about that,” you mumbled apologetically, unable to drop your gaze from his.

“That’s quite alright,” he said softly, his lips twitching upward in a small smile. “It’s quite the conversation piece,” he teased, and you found yourself chuckling.

“You had better be worth all the trouble my ridiculous tattoo has caused,” you teased back. The other three people in the room were watching the two of you, completely taken aback.

“I think for the most part people usually find me to be more trouble than I am worth,” he confessed, his eyes sparkling.

You dropped his hand at last, your face red and your heart pounding with embarrassment. “We’ll see about that,”

This is such a silly idea but I had to write it down so here u go

def not my best work but I hope u enjoy!! I literally didn’t even proofread this so it’s probs full of errors and bad transitions but pls enjoy this dumb little drabble!! (two fics in two days, who am I and what have I done with puk)

We all have that one book. That book that started it all, started everything.
That made us feel something.
That got us hooked.
We may not remember the title, or what it was about, but we all have it.
And we’ll all come back to it. Someday.
Seeking Paintings | Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: You, a muggle-born artist, have been hiding your feelings for Draco Malfoy for years now. Though, after an unplanned meeting in the astronomy tower things between the two of you start to change. Even more so after finding each other in the Room or Requirement.

Word Count: 3,573

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: not my gif credit to owner


You stare out into the vast horizon from the astronomy tower. This was your favorite hideout during your free period. You much rather enjoyed the view when it was light outside. Sure you love astronomy class and looking up at the stars but this was just different. Better.

You pulled out your old, hard-cover, weather-beaten sketch book and began to draw the landscape before you. You made sure to grasp and add every detail to your drawing. You began shading in the sunset when you heard a voice behind you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a rotten tone and you already knew who it was.

“You don’t own the astronomy tower, Draco,” you say blandly while continuing your work.

“You know this is were I go in my spare time,” you hear him huff.

“I know,” you blush, hoping he doesn’t know that besides the view one of your favorite part of this spot is that it’s that it’s his spot too. Then again, how would he even know that, it’s not like you two are exactly close.

You hear him start to walk away and your heart sinks. Just once you’d like him to stay up here when you’re here. Maybe then, you too could become close. You’d had this battle with having a crush on Draco since first year. Now here you are, sixth year and the most interaction between you two is fighting over the astronomy tower.

“You know you can stay right?” You boldly say. You swallow hard when you hear him stop in his tracks.

You hear his footsteps begin again but this time coming back towards you.

He sits a few feet from you, “Just don’t expect me to talk to you.”

You just smile and shake your head continuing to look down at your sketch book. For a few minutes you two stay like this, you drawing, him (probably) thinking. You wonder what could be going on in his head, he seemed to be thinking pretty deeply.

You feel him inching towards you at a snail’s pace, from the corner of your eye you can see him watching you draw everything from here to the horizon. You hate yourself for the blush creeping up on your face, by the time he’s within a foot of you your face is bright red.

“Why are you blushing?” You look up at him and see he’s smiling, a genuine smile.

Because I’ve been hiding my massive crush on you for nearly six years.

“I just get embarrassed at people watching me work,” you shrug.

“Why?” He asks seeming genuinely interested. “You’re really good.”

“Thanks,” you’re blush gets even deeper.

You break eye contact and look back down at your sketchbook. The rest of the period is made up with you finishing your sketch and Draco watching intently. He’s completely mesmerized at how you can just see an image and recreate it perfectly on your page.


It’s Saturday and you aren’t needed nor expected anywhere, which is why Saturdays are your favorite days. You usually spent these days roaming around looking for inspiration for a new art piece. Which is exactly how you plan to start today.

You roam the school grounds aimlessly, constantly moving your head around to grasp every aspect of the school. You step into the one of the many courtyards and feel inspired to sketch it, until you realize you’ve already done that… Ten times…

You sigh and realize that after six years of constantly working in the same space it’s going to be hard to find a completely new area for your art. Just this year and the following before you can finally start travelling and finding more inspiration worldwide.

In your attempts to find a new spot you’re again not looking forward. causing you to slam right into someone.

“Hey, watch where- oh, hey Y/N,” you hear Draco’s voice quickly turn from intimidation to delight.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” you ramble.

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs at how cute he thinks you are when you ramble.

A blush creeps onto your face, “Well, I best be going.” As you turn to walk away he grabs your wrist and turns you back to face him.

“Hey, are you going to the Quidditch match today?” He inquires.

“Um I wasn’t really planning on it,” you scratch the back of your neck.

“Oh,” his face slightly falls. “Well, I’d like it if you went,” he says his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Even though you’d be rooting for Y/H and not Slytherin,” he looks at the ground.

“I mean I probably should go, it's sixth year and I haven’t gone to a single match,” you shrug and he looks at you dumbfounded.

“Not a single match? Well, you definitely have to go now,” he laughs and so do you.

“Well, I guess you can count on me being there,” you say before turning and walking away. You look over your shoulder, “And I guess I can root for Slytherin just this once,” you wink and quickly face forward as your face turns crimson red. A crazy amount of adrenaline must’ve been rushing through you for having the courage to wink at Draco Malfoy.


You take a seat in Y/H’s section for the Quidditch match, all your housemates do a double take when they see you arrive. Which were followed by ‘finally’, 'it’s about time’, 'I didn’t even know you knew how to get here’ and more sayings around those lines.

You don’t know to much about Quidditch, especially since you’re a muggle-born. Not that you know much about muggle sports either. Your friends have explained the game to you many times, you got the logistics but you just didn’t know why it was such a big deal. Maybe you’ll actually figure it out through watching a match.


Draco rose up into the air on his broomstick to prepare for the start of the game. On his way up he scanned the crowd for you and a smile creeps onto his face when he sees you sitting in Y/H’s section. He can tell you look slightly out of place in the stands and is glad to see you actually showed up. He keeps up the hope that you’re actually here for him.

He has been trying to convince himself since second year that he doesn’t have feelings for you. That he could never have feelings for a muggle-born. Except as he’s grown older through his school years he’s realized that muggle-borns aren’t that bad. He’s realized he was just told to think that way, not that he actually believed it.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the blow of the whistle signaling the beginning of the game. Slytherin immediately takes hold of the Quaffle and manages to score within the first minute. A chorus of boos and angered shouts comes from Y/H’s section. Draco looks over to see you remaining silent among your peers. He smiles, hoping you may be rooting for Slytherin…for him…silently. Even if you’re not, at least you aren’t booing.

Draco circles around the field, scanning for the snitch. He’d be lying to say that he wasn’t losing his interest in Quidditch, squinting into the distance searching for a flying ball of gold gets boring after awhile. Of course, he didn’t know if the sport itself was actually starting to bore him or the stress recently rested upon him was making him lose interest in the things he loves. Apparently stress can do that. 

He sees a flicker of gold in the distance, shocked at how early on he’s spotted it he doesn’t fully believe he saw it. That is until he sees the seeker for Y/H dive in the direction of the flash of gold. He quickly follows and the two chase after the golden blur, neck and neck. Draco shoves the other seeker, causing him to spin off course and leaving Draco to be the only one in pursuit of the snitch.

He’s extremely close, he takes a hand off his broom and reaches towards the snitch. He feels cold metal on the pads of his fingers, he just needs to get a grip around it. Almost…

Wham!

He’s nearly knocked off his broom as pain seers through his ribcage. He got hit with a bludger milliseconds before he could grab the snitch. He holds a hand over his ribcage and groans in pain. He rises back into the air to find he’s near Y/H’s section. He looks over at you and you mouth to him, 'Are you okay?’. He nods and manages to give you a faint smile as reassurance.

When he starts to move upward he hears many whispers, “Did Draco Malfoy the Draco Malfoy just smile?”, “Did he smile at you, Y/N?”, “Is there something going on between you two?”, and things of that nature.

He looks back in your direction to see your cheeks turning pink while multiple people start to question you. Though more importantly he sees a smile on your face at the thought of people thinking something is going on between the two of you.

Suddenly, his interest for Quidditch returns. Except rather than loving the sport, wanting to be the best, and move towards winning the House Championships, his goal and motivation to win comes from you. He wants to impress you, and suddenly he finds himself squinting at the field and scanning it as if his life depended on it.

Ten minutes pass with no sign of the snitch. Y/H is currently in the lead, sixty-twenty. Draco continues to scan the field, keeping an eye on the other seeker to see if they look to be in pursuit. He finds himself glancing over at you often as well, trying to make sure you aren’t growing bored. Good thing he’s doing this because it is when he shifts his eyes to you that he spots the snitch once again.

This time determined to get he speeds off in the directions of the flicker of gold. He soon gets close enough that the snitch is hardly a blur anymore. He stretches out his arm when he feels someone bump his side, not strong enough to knock him off his path though. It’s Y/H’s seeker, Draco gives them a menacing stare before turning his eyes back to the snitch. The two race around the field with their arms reaching towards the snitch, they’re neck and neck. Draco, determined to win, jerks his hand out so roughly he fears he might’ve dislocated his shoulder. It would be worth it though, he feels his hand close around the snitch.

He slows down and waves the snitch above his head, wearing a proud smile. The rest of the Slytherin team flies over to congratulate him. He hardly notices their presence as he starts to look for you, to see your reaction. His smile fell, you weren’t in the spot you had previously been in. You weren’t anywhere to be seen.

A look of disappointment washes over Draco’s face as he moves back to the ground. Where did you go? Why did you leave? Did you just not care enough to stay? Did you leave because Slytherin won? Was it foolish of him to think you were here for him? He was disappointed that he ever let that thought into his head.


The rest of the Slytherins were celebrating in their common room, but Draco was in no mood for a party. Though every time he tried to move towards the dorms one of his friends would pull him back to the center of the crowd.

“Dude, what up with you,” Blaise leans onto Draco. “You know you can’t vanish from a party after a win.”

Vanish.

He hadn’t been to the room of requirement in ages. If he was already disappointed with himself he might as well make it even worse by working on that cabinet.

“I actually have to go do something,” Draco mutters before peeling away from the crowd, this time being successful.

He begins the journey from the dungeons all the way to the seventh floor, left corridor. Constantly, he finds himself dodging behind corners at the sight or sound of a teacher. When he makes it to the entrance of the Room of Requirement unscathed he begins to pace and think deeply about what he needs.

I really need to work on this cabinet. If I don’t fix it in time I’ll probably get myself and my family killed. To work on this cabinet though I’m really going to need some privacy. No one else should be able to go in or out. I really just need to be alone, even though I’d rather be talking to Y/N, figuring out why she left the natch early… But I really need to go work on this cabinet in private.

He thinks to himself, allowing him access to the room. He steps inside and begins to make his way to the vanishing cabinet. He examines a feather from the last time when he used that cabinet on a small bird. He begins to realize it’s spending days on end staring at this cabinet that he truly begins to hate what he’s become. He knows he had no choice, it makes him hate all those who did. All who didn’t have people pressuring him to be evil. To kill or be killed. It makes him hate all those who had good people in his life.

He just wanted one good person in his life, he needed one good person in his life.

Where am I going to find a good person who wants to be in my life?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he hears a crash from somewhere in the room, faint whispering follows. Someone else is in here.

He draws his wand from his pocket, becoming extremely alert. He swallows hard, the last thing he needs is to be caught in here. He slowly moves towards the sound of the crash, pashing piles and piles of randomized objects. The faint whisper becomes a distinct mutter, a girl’s mutter.

He jumps out from behind the last pile of things before him and the unknown girl and raises his wand. However, he immediately lowers it at the sight before him.

“Y/N?” He questions putting his wand back in his pocket.

You look up at him and gulp. You are kneeling on the ground in front of a puddle of spilt paint to the side of a canvas. Your face turning a bright red to match the paint covering the floor.

“Draco,” you say wide-eyed. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he tuts.

“Well, I needed a canvas and some oils,” you shrug. “So, I went to the room that would supply me with my needs.

"Well, I needed privacy as in no one else being in here,” he says coming off more hostile than he wants to be towards you.

“Maybe you don’t know what you’re actually needs are,” you look down at the ground, saddened at his hostility towards you. Just when you were beginning to think he could actually like you, how silly.

He remembers what he was just thinking about. Where am I going to find a good person who wants to be in my life? “Maybe you’re right,” he admits.

You look up at him and try to suppress any thoughts of him needing you from your head. You look back down at your paint puddle and go back to cleaning.

“You know there’s this thing called magic,” he chuckles before pulling out his wand. After giving it a little flick all the paint moves back into the container.

You tut before letting out a muffled thanks and standing back up. A slight frown forms on your face as you dip your paintbrush into your now unspilt paint and get back to working on your canvas.

“I thought you’d be a little more thankful,” Draco raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t like to mix magic and art,” you huff.

“How come?” he presses on, sounding as though he genuinely cares.

You sigh, not sure if you’re completely comfortable about divulging your childhood to Draco, your muggle childhood. If you even wanted to dream about having a chance with him you figured it wouldn’t be best to remind him you’re muggle-born. However, he’s expecting an answer and you only have the truth.

“It just when I was younger I was told I had a gift when it came to art,” you sigh. “They said my art made my talent seem like magic,” you smile at the memories. “I guess I wanted to keep it all down to talent not literal magic,” you shrug,

“Oh,” is all he has to say. “Well, can I see what you’re painting?”

At that you freeze, brush in midair dripping paint onto the ground. You swallow hard and your face becomes a deeper red than Draco, or anyone has ever seen you as. You slowly turn your near paralyzed head to look at him wide-eyed, You do not even want to imagine Draco’s reaction to your current work, yet alone see or hear it in reality.

He chuckles, “I’ll take that as a no.” You slightly nod and turn back to your work. “If I can’t look at it can you at least tell me what it is?” Your face is burning at this point, it feels so hot you fear you may need to go down to the hospital wing.

He appears next to you and you nearly choke on the lump forming in your throat. You set your brush down and timidly turn your head to look at him. You get a side view of his head, slightly tilted with a flattered expression resting on his face.

“Is that me?” He smiles brightly and you swallow hard.

“Is that weird?” You timidly ask.

He turns his head to look down at you, a smile still plastered on his face. “Not at all.”

He looks back to examine the painting even deeper as you rock on your heels as an anxious tick. The painting is a site you captured in your head at the match. Draco with his hand outstretched towards a golden blur, you seeker right at his heels. You painted the world around them as a fuzzy haze to show they were moving at top speeds. In the background one could distinguish the field, goalposts, stadium full of students, as well as the other players flying about.

“Is this why you left the match early?”

“Yeah, I just got the idea and rushed here to go and paint it,” you shrug. Then, you fully process what he just said. “You noticed I left?” Your eyebrows knit together and you move your gaze to him.

“Of course,” he says looking at you. “I did it for you,” he states. “I woke up this morning and the last thing I wanted to do was go looking for a golden blur. Then, I remembered you said I could count on you being there and I knew I had to play.” You open your mouth to speak but no words come out, so Draco continues. “I was planning on inviting you to the after party as my date but you weren’t there,” he shrugs. He’s trying to play it cool but truly he heart is beating a mile a minute. He was not intended to profess his love for you but before he could stop himself the words were slipping from his mouth.

“D-date?”

“Yeah, is it so weird for me to take the girl I’ve liked since second year to be my date?” There’s no going back now. It’s out, the secret is out. Draco Malfoy has feelings for Y/N Y/L/N.

He waits for you to say something, anything. He heart is racing and his cheeks are turning pink. He hopes you’ll say you feel the same but you just stay silent.

Your mouth hangs agape, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “You’ve liked me since second year?”

“Is that weird?” He timidly asks as you did previously.

“N-not at all,” you smile wider than ever, your face only turning slightly pink. “I mean I’ve liked you since first year.” You see his eyes light up at that, he looks as if this is exactly what he needs to hear.

You two stay silent for a moment, gazing into each others eyes. Both of you wondering what to do next. His eyes slowly move down to your lips, linger for a second, then dart back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out so quietly you barely hear.

You nod and try to suppress the butterflies in your stomach. He takes a step closer to you and lightly grips your elbows. He pulls you close and stares deep into your eyes. He starts to lean in as do you, both closing your eyes. His lips gently connect to yours. He softly moves his lips against yours, his hands moving down to your waist as yours get tangled in his hair. Neither of you pull away until you both are gasping for air.

“So did you win?” You giggle once you’ve caught your breath.

“I have now.”

Read until the world looks bright again.
—  My advice for those having a bad day.
Imagine - Zach asking you to sleep over at his house

Originally posted by capuleht

@nrowanova request: “just imagine zach’s mom and sister not being home and he asking you to come over and 👀”

You and Zach were in your bedroom helping him study for his next biology test, but Zach kept getting distracted by wanting to kiss you. “Zach, babe, we got to study for bio right now” you told him when he tried to lean in and give you a kiss again. “I know and we will, but we’ve been studying for hours, I think it’s time we take a break, don’t you?” He says with a flirty grin, planting a kiss at the base of your neck. He slowly starts peppering kisses up along your neck until he reaches past your jawline to your lips. “Zach…” You say warningly. But to no avail, Zach kisses your lips. It starts off slow and innocent, until his tongue swipes across your bottom lip demanding for entrance. You know you should stop him now and continue studying but you just can’t find the will power to do it. So you decide to give up and let Zach’s tongue have access to your mouth. He immediately plunges in, driven by a frenzy of hunger. You moan into his mouth, Zach truly is an amazing kisser, which is no surprise. He is one of the most popular guys in school, you’re sure he has kissed plenty of girls before you. But that’s not important right now, so you push the thought from your mind and concentrate on Zach. His hands are slowly trailing down your back all the way to your ass, which he cups. After a couple of minutes of making out, Zach breaks the kiss and looks you in the eyes, “I love you, you know that right (y/n)?” he says a little out of breath from your previous actions. You look and him, slightly confused where this is going, but say with a small smile and a peck on his lips, “Yea of course I do Zach, I love you too.” He smiles back at you but then looks down for a second contemplating his next words. “My mom and my sister are out for the weekend to go and visit some relatives… And I have the house to myself… So I was thinking maybe you’d like to come and sleep over, you know, spend the weekend together…?” He asks with a nervous smile. You freeze. Zach and you have never slept over at each other’s house and with the way Zach is acting right now, you know what he’s insinuating what he wants to do this weekend with you. You’ve never gone past the stage of making out, you guys haven’t done IT yet, nor have you talk about doing so. Of course you love Zach with all your heart and you do want to do it with him, but there’s one little problem. You’re a virgin. And given Zach’s social status at school and how popular he is with the girls at Liberty high, you can only assume he’s already lost his. You don’t want to disappoint him, and being it is your first time, you’re scared… Zoning back into reality, you look at Zach, he looks nervous and you feel bad for making him wait for an answer. But you’ve made up your decision now. “Sure, that’s sounds great” you say softly with a gentle smile. Zach exhales, relieved. “Awesome!” He says suddenly excited for this weekend. “I can’t wait to spend some alone time with my favourite girl” Zach says smirking. You laugh, excited, although a tad bit nervous, too. He suddenly leans in and gives you a long, passionate kiss. “This will be fun” Zach says after breaking the kiss, “trust me”. And so you and Zach return to your biology notes and continue studying. You look over at Zach, he’s concentrating hard on reading some notes, you smile softly, no longer afraid of this weekend and not fearing of disappointing Zach. He loves you, you can see that, and you love him. That’s all that really matters…