and this is going in my to write pile

Writers

Writer says: So I had this crazy idea one day and I just had to work on it. Here ya go!

Writer means: So I had this crazy idea either right before getting in the shower or right before falling asleep so I grabbed my fucking laptop and shat all over it to create the steaming pile of crap that I now lay before you. I don’t even know if it’s good anymore. I haven’t slept in two days.

Writer says: Wow, real life’s getting busy! Sorry on the slow updates.

Writer means: My life is a literal storm of shit at the moment. Why did I decide to do this. Why am I still doing this. Everything around me is spinning out of control and I am staying up ‘til 5:30 in the morning every night to create a piece of work that will only get two comments and 12 demands for quicker updates. I hope no one’s mad at me, all I wanted to do was write.

Writer says: Wow! Would you look at that! I updated on time! Please enjoy!

Writer means:  WOOOOOOHOOOOOO BITCHES LOOK AT THIS PRODUCTIVE ASSHOLE GO YEEEEEHAAAAWWWW TAKE THAT YOU NASTY REVIEWERS ALWAYS DEMANDING ME TO BE FASTER! I GOT THIS SHIT I GOT THIS SHIT

Writer says: This chapter was a toughie. Glad it’s finally done!

Writer means: I don’t know if this is good or not. I honestly don’t fucking know. I’ve read the same words over and over and over again and I just couldn’t look at it anymore. My beta said it was ok but I’m not confident but HOLY SHIT I JUST NEED TO STOP WRITING THIS FUCKIGN CHAPTER.

Writer says: Thanks for reading!

Writer means: Please, oh please oh please oh please leave me a review. A comment. Anything. Please tell me you’re out there. Please tell me someone is reading this.

Writer says: I just want to say that real life is getting pretty hectic right now. Please try to be patient with me, I know you guys want updates. Thanks! :)

Writer means: FUCK. YOU. Who the fuck do you think you are, demanding shit from me?! You don’t know my life! I have a very busy life! I create shit for free, you entitled son of a pig-fucker! STOP LEAVING ME COMMENTS TELLING ME TO UPDATE SOON OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL PUKE ALL OVER MY COMPUTER 

Writer says: What’s gonna happen next? Who knows? Hee hee ;)

Writer means: I have no fucking clue what the next chapter is going to look like. What’s my plot? I don’t know. I feel no emotion.

Writer says: Please leave a comment! It helps me write!

Writer means: I am begging you to leave me a comment because I swear it’s the only thing that’s keeping me motivated right now, I hate the work I put out and I need reassurance that people are actually enjoying this.

Writer says: I hope you enjoyed that chapter, big things are coming up! ;)

Writer means: Buckle up bitches, someone’s gonna die.

Writer says: I know I’ve missed a few updates, but I swear I plan on finishing this story! 

Writer means: *high pitched eternal screeching*

Writer says: Here we are at long last! This has been one wild ride. I want to thank you all so much for your support and love, I adore each and every one of you. I am so happy to say that this story has come to a wonderful close.

Writer means: My body is numb. Voices call out to me from the void, but I can no longer hear them over the beating of my racing heart. I am stressed to the point where I feel no relief. The story is done. It’s fucking DONE. I loved it, I hated it, it was a fucking storm of horror and pain. I can no longer see color. Now I can at last relax and…wait……wait a second………..holy shit I just thought of the best idea for a one-shot that’s totally gonna turn into a 50 chapter slow burn AU fic leT’S FUCKING DO THIS

AUs for when both members of your OTP are stubborn pricks
  • you were sat in my reserved train seat and refused to move so i sat on your lap and now we’re both too annoyed and awkwardly turned on to move
  • we were both unwillingly coerced into going to a wedding and we bet on who could drink the most glasses of free wine. three hours later there is no clear winner and were collapsed in a pile of our own puke in the corner of the room
  • i can hear you arguing w a policeman and from what i can tell you had to be forcefully removed from a public area because you sat on the ground and refused to move and youre confused about what theyre charging you with
  • im kinda busy arguin w this police man but i also keep looking at you because you’re naked and attractive and im pretty sure you just told the someone you were arrested bc your friend dared you to take off all your clothes and throw them at ppl and someone else told you that you wouldnt dare do it
  • we were having a fun games night w our friends but now everyone’s left your flat apart from me bc we’ve played twenty games of connect 4 and still haven’t managed to find a winner and gdi i will beat you
  • ive been trying to grab your attention in class for over half an hour by poking you and throwing things onto your desk and you’re refusing to acknowledge me and gdi all i wanted to do was tell you that you look cute and now it’s gone too far and it can’t go back
  • were roommates in university and our kitchen is a mess but both of us are refusing to clean it and it’s becoming a serious health hazard i swear i saw a dead body in there the other day
  • ive been arguin w you on yikyak for days and don’t even remember what started it any more but only today did i find out youre actually the cute person in class ive had a crush on all semester i seriously regret looking at your screen over your shoulder now
  • you knocked my books out of my arms and you’re refusing to pick them up bc you’re claiming i walked into you when it was totally you who banged into me and we’ve been stood here arguing about this for ten minutes already
Boy

@faintlyglow this is that Soft Andrew I mentioned and I think Neil ended up being much more soft? I had some notes at the bottom that might become a pt 2 (I’ve got a problem with not writing it all in one go, heh) also I didn’t read back through it to see if it made sense or was super ooc, so take it as it is. If you guys want me to continue pls leave a comment on it on ao3 or in the tags bc that stuff is what inspires my lame ass


The game was close, 13—11, but the Foxes came out on top. Neil could hear the team running to dog pile in the middle of the court, Matt dead center. Neil half jogged toward them and stopped halfway to look back at Andrew in the goal. The goal dwarfed him. His racquet was propped up in the crook of his arm, while he pulled off his gloves. Something squeezed Neil’s chest tight when he saw Andrew standing there in the goal with his racquet that was longer than he was tall. Andrew dropped the gloves to his feet and Neil’s feet started carrying him toward Andrew.

Andrew’s fingers were short and boxy, and he had calluses from holding his pens wrong. His nails were probably bitten too short and his nail beds were more than likely bloody on at least three of his fingers. His left index finger had a burn scar that licked up the side, and he had a deep scar on his right thumb from where he had accidentally grated it when he was younger. His palms were wide and covered in calluses from lifting weights. Andrew’s knuckles were chapped and split from a rough sparring session with Renee. Neil was a little obsessed with Andrew’s hands; they were always firm but never restraining. Andrew’s touch was insistent but gentle, and Neil loved the way Andrew’s rough hands dragged across his skin. Andrew’s skin was so pale that it was easy to trace his veins from his left hand to his heart. Neil liked to twist Andrew’s hand so his arm showed the bright blue line that poked out of his armbands and twisted to his chest.

Neil was a short five feet away when Andrew fumbled for the strap on his helmet. Andrew looked less tiny at a closer distance, but his goalie shorts did nothing to accentuate his height. They dwarfed his short legs and he wore them higher than he needed so his torso looked comically small with his jersey stuffed into the waistband. Neil didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because Andrew was so small and perfect. Bright orange was definitely not his color, but Neil loved the look of him in it because bright orange had started to symbolize family to Neil. Andrew finished taking off his helmet and raised one eyebrow. Neil’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. Andrew looked so good.

“What?” Andrew asked.

“We won,” Neil replied, grinning, making Andrew to roll his eyes. Andrew’s face was red from the heat of the game. Neil had asked him to close out the goal and Andrew had delivered in a way that impressed not only Neil; he had also impressed professional scouts. Neil felt resplendent.

Andrew had a wicked case of helmet hair. It was partly tamed by the thick, black bandana Neil had wrapped around his forehead. Neil had to smile at the look of the white blonde hair flopping down onto the bandana. Neil liked to stand close enough to Andrew to see the faint smattering of freckles that spread across his nose and cheeks, where the sun affected him the most. They would become more prominent in the summer when they went back to Columbia and if Andrew was in a particularly accommodating mood he would let Neil sit knee to knee with him and take a felt tip marker and connect the freckles on his shoulder. And in return Andrew would write in boxy Cyrillic across Neil’s back to practice his Russian. For the first time Neil wasn’t running and looking for the next place to hide, he was looking forward to spending summer in Columbia with Andrew. He was getting soft.

“You know I hate when you look at me like that.”

“Yes, I know. Just as much as you hate me right?” Neil said.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed to slits, eyebrows slanted on top of them. Neil wanted to pat Andrew’s hair back into place. His fingers were itching to slide through Andrew’s sweaty locks. “Can I touch your hair? Yes or no?”

“No. No not…it’s not a not ever, it’s a not when you should be celebrating. It’s a later,” Andrew clarified. Neil nodded and grinned before running over to the rest of his teammates.

Some smut to illustrate how Feyre’s Birthday could go if she was still in the Spring Court by the time of it (after acomaf).
Quickly written, so I apologize for any mistakes.
NSFW (obviously)


“Go the woods tonight at 11. I need someone to keep me safe.”

That was what the note said and it was probably the best gift Feyre had received that day – and she had woken up with piles of presents by her friends: dresses, jewellery, swords, daggers, delicacies from her favourite places in Velaris and even flowers cultivated by Elain and a set of paints from Nesta that seemed to be made from the night sky, the colours ranging from the beginning of the evening in a dashing blue to the pit black sky, illuminated only by the silver, twinkling stars.

She had long disassociated her Birthday with it being a joyous time; her family hadn’t been able to get her gifts it’d been a long while and last year her mind had been trying to heal itself, but now… Her family – both the one that was bind to her by blood and the one she had chosen – had sent her presents and sweet messages, reminding her that they would always be there for her. And Rhys – oh, Rhys would be risking everything just to see her.

It was stupid and reckless and selfish of them. But she didn’t care. Every cell in her body was longing for his touch. All day, everyday.

She would go to him, and no one could stop her.

Thankfully, no one even tried.

Feyre had been getting better at winnowing, having been training her abilities in secret. Not because Tamlin wouldn’t let her, she had never even asked, but because she didn’t want him to know. When war came, if they were on opposite sides, she didn’t want her enemies to know just how powerful she was.

Being underestimated had its perks, she had found.

Getting out of the house, then, hadn’t been difficult at all and, in no time, she was already walking into the woods, her eyes and ears paying attention to everything that surrounded her and she had packed the dagger Cassian had given her just in case she had to defend herself.

The trees weren’t enough to cover the moonlight completely, but it was still hard to see where she was going; the shadows were winning that battle in their perpetual war against the light.

Her heart was pounding in her chest in frantic beats that rang loud in her ears… Where the hell was he?

Feyre felt the tug at their bond, calling her to him and she tried to fall it, desperate to get to him – and then she felt this presence just behind her and her instincts were to turn around, dagger in hand, ready to attack.

And it was Rhysand who stood there, wings out, hands in the air in surrender and a smirk on his lips. “Hello, Feyre darling. Would you mind lowering that?” he pointed to the weapon in her hands with his chin, “I don’t see you in month and that’s how you greet me… One would think that you’re not even happy to-“

The High Lord could hear himself talking all day, but she didn’t have the time for that. So she just made him shut up in the nicest way possible – shoving him against a tree with her lips attacking his, her tongue demanding entrance as she tried to get her body as close to his as possible, and that was still not close enough.

Keep reading

Bathroom

Shawn Mendes
Words ~ 2,000-ish
Warnings ~ Some very questionable smut?
Request: Can you write one with Shawn where you live together and it’s really cute and fluffy but at the same time a bit smutty? ~ By
dreamer129
Note ~ Sorry I didn’t go into detail about certain things, but I hope you like it anyway. Also, sorry for the bad ending :D

“Shawn?” I call out into the seemingly empty flat, waiting for Teddy to waddle in before closing the door, shutting away the chilly air. Shawn yelled back a muffled response. I kicked my shoes off while dumping my bag and Ted’s lead on the sofa next to a pile of unpacked boxes and followed the sound of his voice to the bathroom.

A very lovely sight was laid out before me; Shawn stood shirtless in front of the mirror, razor in hand as he swiped away at the white foam covering his face. A smile lit up his face when he saw me through the mirror as I tried to sneak up on him.

“What you doin’?” I asked as I squeezed my arms around his bare waist, leaving a small trail of kisses down the middle of his back. His body was so warm compared to outside, which I was grateful for as he instantly started warming me up.

“I’m shaving.” Shawn chuckled at my sort of stupid question while cleaning off the blade.

“I know, but why are you shaving when you don’t have any hair there?” I teased. He had to stop shaving for a second as he was laughing too hard.

“Aren’t you sassy today.” Shawn shot back, “And maybe I’m doing it because you constantly complain about kissing a carpet.”

I giggled at the thought of having to kiss Shawn’s prickly face again, “On second thought, maybe you should shave.”

“That’s what I thought.”

I watched silently as Shawn finished up what he was doing. The repetitive motion was surprisingly relaxing. Occasionally, he would start humming some random song, only making it harder to stay awake. I could happily stay in this moment for the rest of time.

“We still have to finish unpacking.” And Shawn just ruined the moment with that lovely piece of information. I groaned and reached up on my tip-toes as to rest my chin on his shoulder. He started wiping away at the remaining foam with a towel.

“Can’t you just do it?” I pouted, knowing he was watching through the mirror. Seriously, I already had about five videos to edit and upload this week, the last thing I wanted to think about was all the boxes that we still needed to get through. Also, I just really hated unpacking.

“What do you think I’ve been doing all morning, alone, little Miss ‘Ted needs a walk’!” Shawn chuckled and rolled his eyes as I started pressing kisses against his neck, hoping he would cave again like this morning. Eyes closed, his breaths became shallow as I brushed over the sweet spot at the crook of his neck.

“I could just repay you.” I offered playfully. Shawn’s eyes snapped open when I gently bit the spot.

“Baby…” His voice trailed off as I tugged him closer by the belt loop of his jeans. Shawn eventually gave in and turned around, quickly bringing our lips together. His hands found their way to the back of my legs as he picked me up, flipping us so I was now sitting on the counter next to the sink. I pulled back so I could catch my breath, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Well that’s good, I wouldn’t want to be doing this without your consent.” I joked light-heartedly while my fingers ran over the newly shaved skin, smiling when Shawn caught my hand in his and brought it to his lips. I felt something rough scrape along the back of my hand, “I think you missed a spot.”

Shawn looked at me confused as I squirted some shaving cream into my hands, foaming it up before smothering it over the stray spot of hair on his chin, and maybe some on in other places too.

“Thanks baby.” He laughed and wiped off the foam his nose while I grab the razor. A flash of nerves shot across Shawn’s face, “You know how to do this, right?”

I gave him a very reassuring shrug, “I mean, I shave my legs. This can’t be much different.”

Shawn stayed as still as possible as I ran the razor along the covered area, but he soon loosed up a bit after the second or third swipe. Though I was trying to concentrate, I got a bit distracted as Shawn’s hands moved from my back, slowly traveling south.

“All done.” I smiled happily and kissed his cheek before jumping off the counter. I was about to walk away when Shawn stopped me.

“I love you.” He laughed while rubbing away the foam that ended up on my chin. The way he was looking at me made him look like a little lovesick puppy.

“I love you too.” I escaped his hold before he started kissing me or something worse. Even though I would really love that, but I also really wanted to get in the shower. Not wanting to wait for Shawn to leave, I stripped off my shirt. 

“Wait, what are you doing?” Shawn choked out, his eyes on my shirtless body. I smirked and walked closer to him.

Keep reading

Anchor

Paring- Derek x Reader ( relationship) Peter x Reader ( one sided)

Word Count- 1.049

Request (Anon)- Can you please do a peter hale one shot where your dereks gf but his anchor

A/N- I’m going to set this in S5 but Derek didn’t leave and Peter didn’t try to kill Scott so he didn’t go to Eichen house and woo, I’m being productive and writing when I should be doing my piles of homework, Enjoy!


Peter Hale wasn’t much to you, he was really just someone who hung around sometimes, your boyfriends uncle. But you were so much more to him, you were his anchor.

“Derek’s not home” you said when you heard the loft door being pulled open. You sat on the couch, your back leaning against the arm rest and your legs out infront of you with your face in a book, a bestiary to be specific. “I can wait” the voice you recognised as Peter replied, taking a seat on the other end of the couch, slightly squished against the arm rest to avoid touching your feet. He was scared that, even such a small touch as that, would leave him craving more, leave him wanted you to be his even more.

“Mind me asking where he is” Peter asked after a few moments of silence, watching as your turned over a page and flickered your gaze to him for no more than a second. “At the school, Scott needed him for something” you mumbled in response. Peter sighed at the slight tension left in the air, he knew his heart was going a mile a minuet and he could hear your was calm and at ease.

“You looking for something” he asked, standing up and walking to stand behind you. “Trying to help find what Parrish is” you replied, still not looking at him, until you turned the page once again and your eyes widened. “Hellhound… My brothers a hellhound” you murmured, shooting up and darting over to the table, almost throwing the book down. “What do you know about hellhounds” you asked, raising your head to look at Peter, who was stood with his eyebrows raised in confusion.

“They’re harbingers of death, they light themselves on fire, they have some kind of connection with banshee’s” he said while shrugging his shoulders. “They have some kind of connection with Banshee’s..” you pondered, thinking back to the fact Lydia is in Eichen house. “I need to go, I’ll see you around” you rushed, tugging on your shoes and one speeding past him.

He stared at the spot you had been standing in for several minuets after you left, admiring how cute you looked when you were focused. Though you were reeking of Derek’s scent as you were wearing his shirt.

Peter was quick to follow you however, knowing there were three creepy doctors experimenting on people was enough for him to catch up with you and walk beside you.

You burst into the station and practically screamed for Parrish, who quickly ran out with Derek on his heals. “You’re a hellhound” you said simply as the four of you all sat in Sheriff Stilinski’s office. “A harbinger of death, you can help us get Lydia out” you rushed, feeling Derek’s hands go to your shoulders. “Baby you need to calm down” he said softly, Peter hand forming in knuckle to keep himself calm as his nephew held you tightly.

Anyone could see that Derek and you were deeply in love and that you would do anything for each other. Peter was thankful when Parrish cleared his throat, causing the pair of you two separate.


Despite the fact you had promised Derek you would stay home and safe while they rescued Lydia, you knew that wasn’t a option and you wanted to help. Derek knew you would try that too so he sent Peter to keep you home and you had come up with an idea.

“You want tea, Coffee, Hot chocolate” you offered as you made your own hot chocolate. “Coffee please” he replied, turning back to his book, which meant he wouldn’t see your secret ingredient, just for him. You handed him the cup and you were hoping it was only a matter of time before he would be out cold from the wolvesbane you’d put in it.

When you heard Peter’s cup drop and saw his head fall to the side as he fell into a deep slumber, you took off. You had your stun gun inside your hunters jacket, a few smoke bombs and knock out gas bombs in your other large pocket and a real gun in your belt just incase.

You felt a tiny bit bad for drugging Peter but it had to be done, you had to help.

And you were damn lucky you did because If you hadn’t, well Theo would have slit Lydia’s neck and Liam would have been destroyed by a giant guard. Stiles told you to go back and try to help Liam, Derek and Scott get by the mountain ash barrier.

“Y/n I told you to stay at home” Derek sighed when he saw you, “How did you get past Peter” Liam gaped from behind Derek, staring at you with wide eyes. “I may or may not have knocked him out with wolvesbane” you said hesitantly, a smile pulling at your lips when you heard Derek let out a breath of laugher. He kissed you softly. “Okay, we need to go through tunnels, so boys, pull that drain up and we’re going down the ladders” you ordered, watching at the werewolves pulled up the drain and let Derek go down first.

Liam went next, then you and then Scott, who pulled over the drain, knowing there was an exit through the morgue from the basement.

By the time you got back to the loft it was just after midnight, Derek had dropped you off but was going to the animal clinic with the pack, seeing as you were getting tired, you made the decision to go home.

Peter was pacing up and down the loft when you pulled the heavy door open. “Now before you maul me to death, I had to help them” you exclaimed as he turned to face you.

“You had me worried sick y/n” he yelled, you couldn’t deny he did look like he had actually been worrying. “I don’t see why you would care” you shot back, causing him to turn and look at you.

“Why do I care? You want to know why? Because your my anchor”

roses

this wasn’t requested. (sidenote: do i even answer requests anymore?? i’m a terrible person…) i just saw a post and wanted to write something out of it.

masterlist

request

a/n: roses are my favorite so. i hope you guys like this one!


To say it had been a rough few weeks would be an understatement. 

Your homework had piled on top of itself, your mother was riding your ass about what your plans were after college, you had hardly slept, you had had a headache for the entire week, and to make it all worse, Shawn was touring. You were alone.

How’s it going, love?

You read the message on your phone, contemplating how you wanted to respond. You could either reply honestly and distract him from whatever it was he was doing, or you could lie.

Just great, baby. How’s tour?

Naturally, you choose the latter. There’s no point in bothering him or making him worry about you. You send the response and put down your phone, sinking into the couch and taking a sip of your tea. The mountain of work sitting on your desk is calling your name, a haunting shriek reminding you of your current unproductive state. But you can’t right this second, exhaustion has officially set in, and even the thought of moving from the silence of your living room is too much to handle.

Keep reading

“Why did you marry me then?!”

I don’t know why but i keep writing this and it keeps getting deleted before i can post so HERE WE GO AGAIN and this is one of my personal fav requests omg ((:


Harry didn’t wash the dishes.

It all started over a stupid pile of dirty silverware.

“That was lovely,” Harry had said, pecking your lips before walking off, checking his phone by the couch where it was charging.

You smile, but it quickly turns into a frown as you pick up Harry’s plate. You try to play it off lightly–because in reality it was ridiculous. Who makes a big deal out of an unwashed plate? But you state anyways, “You aren’t doing the dishes.”

He looks up from his text, smirking, “You’re closer to the kitchen.”

“But we had an agreement,” you try to play it cool. “I do the cooking and you wash the dishes.”

Harry smiles and walks over to you, leaning on the kitchen counter. “It’s just one meal, Y/N. And I’m really tired tonight.”

You didn’t think he could hear as you murmur under your breath, “You’re tired every night.”

He furrows his eyebrows and sucks in a breath. “What?”

You didn’t respond, instead turning to the dishes. But just the sight of them is enough to set you on edge. Biting your lip, you say, “Nothing, Haz.”

But your husband doesn’t let it drop. He stands beside you by the sink and when he speaks, his voice is deadly low. “What did you mean by I’m always tired?”

You hesitate, looking up to meet his gaze. His green eyes are whirlpools tonight. But then you catch a glimpse of the unwashed dishes at the corner of your vision. You sigh, “It’s just…I get that you have a unique career. You don’t know how much I know that you do. And you can’t do anything about it because millions of people, including me, are counting on you to wake up every morning and put on a good show, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

You see now that Harry is confused, but he seems to know where this is headed. His eyebrows are knitted together and there’s a frown stretched out on his face.

“I can’t do anything about it?” Harry repeats, dropping his phone on the counter with a loud bang. “What do you mean by that? I love my job and I choose to wake up every morning, put on a show, and do all I need to do to make my fans happy.”

He throws his hands up in frustration.

You take a deep breath in, trying to stop your hands from shaking. “What about me?” You look up, making a big deal to not pull your gaze from his. You will not look weak in front of him. “You’re so busy making your fans happy that you forget to make me happy.”

Harry tears his fingers through his hair and walks over to you. He points an accusing finger in your face. He raises his voice, “You know the fans come first.” He gestures around you both. At the kitchen. At the house. “This is all from the fans! They come first.”

“Spare me at least the decency to tell me I, at least, am second.” You are choking on the silence of your tears.

“Come on,” Harry almost sounds apologetic.

Almost.

“You know how it is,” Harry steps closer, and it almost looks like he’s about to pull you into his arms. Almost. “The fans will always come first. Always.”

And that’s when you break.

“If the fans truly always come first, then you have lied to me all your life, Harry Edward Styles,” you spit out. His expression hardens. Your faces are inches apart now. “You made a promise to me when you married me. You made a promise to love me and I made a promise to love you. Through everything. Through anything. And from the moment we kissed, you were my first priority. My first priority, not even my family came before you.”

Harry’s voice is low, “The fans gave me everything. Everything came from them.”

“Well, why did you marry me then!” You scream. “IF THE FANS COME FIRST, WHY DID YOU MARRY ME?”

BECAUSE I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THIS ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD!” Harry screams back, and then he collapses in a tangle of curls and tears. Tears are streaming down your cheeks too, and they paralyze you.

The house is quiet, except for the sounds of both of you crying.

“I love you more than anything,” Harry repeats, looking up at you with red eyes. The sight of him broken breaks you too. You collapse to your knees beside him. You are running your hands through his hair as his hands cup your face. “I love you more than anything. Please know that. I need you to know that.”

“I do,” you nod, as he brushes away a stray tear. “I do. I love you too. So much.”

He hesitates, then says, “The fans come first. For the band. For us four. The fans always come first.” Pauses, then continues, “But for me, you come first. One call from you crying and I will fly across the globe just to make you smile. Don’t you doubt that. Ever.”

You smile, and he grins, “See? This feeling in my stomach that I get when you are happy? I don’t get that with the fans. They’ve…They’ve given me a lot, but you have given me more.”

He pulls you to his chest and you rest your head on top of his chest. His heartbeat is like a lullaby. “You’ve given me love,” he whispers. “And that’s irreplaceable.”

Shut up and kiss me - Auston Matthews

A/N: HIIII! This one is a request by my bb @itsall-aboutthat. I’ve enjoyed writing this waaaay too much and I hope you like it. I might start taking requests, who knows…

Word Count: 1130

Warnings: Mild swearing.

Originally posted by calgaryinferno

“What do you want to do today?” Auston asks from behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist on a tight embrace.

“I’ve never been in Toronto before, we should go and explore the city” I answer while pouring more pancake batter on the pan. I’ve probably made a hundred pancakes by now, but the pile wasn’t growing since Auston kept stealing them from the plate and eating them with his fingers.

We have been dating for two years now, but you won’t deny that living so far from each other makes things quite hard sometimes. You trust him and he trusts you, but it is hard not to get jealous when models threw themselves at him all the time and you are an average girl from Michigan. It is the first time that I have gone to Toronto to visit him and I am beyond excited about it.

“Do you really want to go out?” He pouts and I can tell that all he wants is to stay at home and just cuddle and watch movies and be couch potatoes. Not happening “it is cold out and it might rain and…”

“Stop whining, Papi” I scowl him and he frowns; only his mom can call him Papi. “I really want to see the city. Your apartment is nice, but I want to see what Canada has to offer”

He rolls his eyes and I know I have won; we are going out. We get ready, Auston still whining while we walk to his car.

“We can go back, it isn’t too late” he says before getting in the driver’s seat.

“Auston, drive and don’t stop until we are Downtown” I glare at him and he stares at my face, trying to figure out if I’m kidding or not. I am not. He sighs and starts driving.

As soon as we are on the highway he links his hand with mine and rests them on my thigh, eyes on the road. I take my time to study his face while he is focus on the icy road; he is still the same Auston, but I can tell he is more of a man than he was six months ago when he left to Toronto. His jaw is slightly more squared, his hair is longer but better styled, his cheekbones more prominent… and yet again he is still Auston.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” he asks, squishing my hand lightly and I blush. Ugh, busted.

“You are just too handsome” I answer sincerely and he turns his face, gifting me with a smile that makes my knees weak.

“I needed to keep up with my girlfriend or some bastard may try to take her away from me” and I frown.

“Never going to happen”

“I hope so” he looks at my eyes for a second and brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. Ugh, he knows how to make me go insane “we are here”

He parks the car on a private parking lot and we walk out, hand on hand. Toronto is prettier than I expected. It has a New York vibe but much more chilled and I enjoy walking around surrounded by tall buildings.

“Ugh, I think I’m in love” I declare as we sit in a restaurant after walking and shopping for a couple hours. What can I say? I couldn’t hold myself and Auston was there to hold my bags for once.

“I thought you had fell for me long time ago” he raises an eyebrow and I laugh at him.

“With the city, dum-dum” and now he gives me a major side eye “I’ve been in love with you for two years” as I run a finger all over his hand and arm.

“Good to know” he smiles and I do the same. Ugh, we are so cheesy.

We get our food and we eat as we talk, or I talk and he listens, or more like I talk and he is completely zoned out. He has always been on the quiet side of the spectrum, but normally he is a good listener. I frown, but he doesn’t notice it and I decide to just let it go. He pays the tab and I whisper a thank you. Everything was going so well and now we are on an uncomfortable silence, walking around the city.

“Want to go up there?” he asks and I snap out of my thoughts, following his gaze to the CN tower.

I nod, but I don’t say anything as we walk to base of the needle looking building and get inside. It is warm and I let out a content sigh when the warmth hits my face. Auston buys a couple tickets and I give him a dirty look, it is my time to pay, but he just waves it off and puts his hand on the small of my back and pushes me to the elevators. The ride up is suffocating, neither of us talks and the tension between us is palpable, you literally run off as the elevator doors open. And then you see it, the whole city at your feet. The sight is breathtaking and you can’t help it to turn around, looking for Auston so you can share the experience, but he is on front of the elevator, looking at his feet.

“Ok, I’m done with this” You whisper and walk towards him “what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you acting up so weird? What the fuck happ…”

“Move here with me” he blurts out and I stop talking.

“What?”

“Move here with me. Come live with me. You love the city, you like my friends, you love me…”

“Yes” I say, biting my lower lip.

“You can find a job, or not, I make enough money for bo…Wait, what?”

“I said yes, Auston. I’d love to live with you. I’d love to wake to you each morning. I’d love to make you pancakes every morning” I smile as he wraps his arms around my waist and spins me around.

When he puts me down I grab his hand and walk with him to the glass. The Sun is going down and the sky is tinted with reds, pinks and oranges.

“This is so beautiful” I whisper, leaning against him.

“Not as beautiful as you” he puts his arm around my shoulders and squishes my frame against his much bigger body “hey, I’m so sorry. I was an asshole and…”

“Shh, shut up and kiss me”

And he does, and my knees go weak, and my heart flutters, and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to get to call him mine.

just some lil au ideas to keep in mind
  • your girlfriend decided to kick you out at 3 am and I tripped over your boxes of shit in the hallway in my drunken trip to my apartment now I’m half passed out in a pile of your clothes au
  • every time you sneak out of your damn house you go through my yard and my dogs won’t shut up and I am tired of it prepared to be soaked with water guns on your way to your next party au 
  • when we stopped at the red light we were both blasting the same song au 
  • you thought you were alone in the hotel gym so you decided to sing eye of the tiger at the top of your lungs whilst exercising and I found it so entertaining I just had to meet you and tell you how I am now your biggest fan au
  • does my mail really accidentally get sent to your house this often or are you just taking advantage of my magazine subscriptions bc when you bring it by the corners of a few pages of my gossip magazine are always folded  
  • “I have been driving for the last 5 hours and all I want is some god damn beef jerky, so GET YOUR HAND OFF THE LAST PACKAGE ON THE SHELF YOU MAY BE HANDSOME STRANGER, BUT NO ONE IS STANDING IN BETWEEN ME AND THAT SALTY SNACK” 
  • I was trying to get revenge on my friend for putting foil in my microwave but it was dark and I was full of adrenaline (and maybe a little drunk) I’m so sorry that I wrote dick with marshmallow cream and glitter all over your window au
  • why the hell is this mall so big and the map so confusing?? Please help me I’ve been looking for a bathroom for twenty minutes au
  • “sir I can’t give you any more samples this is the third time you’ve come here today” au
  • you’re used to people having to look up at you and being intimidated by your height, but now that I’m standing you’re a bit surprised to find me eye to eye with you and now you’re starting to regret that snarky remark au 
  • “what do you mean you’ve never seen the lord of the rings?? prepare yourself for a fucking marathon and lots of coffee my friend” au 
  • I somehow always get you as a cashier at walmart and its always when I’m buying the weirdest shit at the weirdest time “A head of lettuce at 3am?” ”its a long story” au
  • you just caught me cleaning up some graffiti on our apartments and congratulated me on being an awesome person and decided to help me clean but little did you know I was only cleaning it so I could have blank canvas au
Batch Request: Polyamory P3

“I can’t take any of you anywhere. You’re so embarrassing.” 

“My hands are cold. You need to warm them up for me.”

“This sweater is not big enough for all of us.”

“Stop fighting over date nights. We made a schedule for a reason.”

“Everyone needs to do their own dishes. I mean, look at the pile. I refuse to do them all.”

“If I let you adopt one animal, the others are going to want to as well.”

“Can you two just pick the movie already?”

“Can’t we just send a normal family portrait to my parents this year? Just this once?”

Helping hands - Lafayette x Reader x Jefferson

Request: onelastfic said: Fic Idea: Laf x Reader x Jefferson where Laf & Thomas are picking out clothes for the reader and fight over what style looks best on her.

Time period: Modern

Word count: 1076

Ship: Lafayette x reader x Jefferson

warnings: slight innuendo

A/N: this was satisfying to write bc my daveed thirst is REAL, thank you @onelastfic for the request, feel free to request more!!

Originally posted by thegameofnerds

You sat under a pile of clothing as you held your phone to your ear.

The phone rang a few times before your best friend Lafayette picked up “Allo?”

“Hey Laf I’m going on a date tonight and I need your help picking out an outfit.” you groaned.

There was shuffling and some talking on the other end of the phone. “I am hanging out with my friend called Thomas, it is okay if he comes too, non?”

“Yeah, I guess, I don’t really know him though.” you blushed at the thought of a stranger seeing your messy room.

“Not to worry, Y/N! As long as it is okay with you that he comes, the two of you will get along great.” he assured you. “We will leave now then! à plus!”

You had just put the last piece of clothing mountain back in your closet when the apartment buzzer rang. You knew it was Laf so you buzzed him in and put the kettle on while you waited.

Lafayette didn’t bother knocking and let himself in, engulfing you in a hug and spinning you around.

“Y/N” he cried dramatically, setting you down and kissing your forehead. “It has been too long.”

“Laf, I saw you yesterday.” You laughed.

He put his hand to his forehead. “Too long.”

Keep reading

pang after pang

@vldangstweek March 20th: Injury


Shiro is excited to go home.

The Garrison’s accelerated post-secondary education program is grueling, and while in the end, he’s sure it’ll be worth it, as it stands now…he doesn’t remember the last time he got more than three consecutive hours of sleep, his laundry is piled up because he’s honestly just too tired to deal with it all, and on top of the sheer burnout that comes with intensive classes intended to prepare an individual to go to space is just.

He’s struggling to hold it together enough to get through these last few classes, and then he’s on his way home. Before night comes, he’ll be back at home with his parents and Keith, and he can see what’s been bothering Keith so intensely. Because something’s up, and he can see it in the way Keith won’t text him unless he needs a question answered, and in the way he won’t speak on the phone for more than a moment or two, and in how those few moments when he will talk to Shiro, he’ll be quiet and subdued.

He doesn’t think it’s anything too serious, but Shiro is also well aware that his attention has been mostly diverted towards his classwork, of late, and he’s letting Keith slip through the cracks, but there’s not much he can do about that right now. He just has to get through today, and then he can pay attention to Keith.

He’s looking forward to it, to be honest. He misses his brother.

Finally, finally, finally, his last class ends, and as soon as humanly possible, Shiro has his bag and is out the Garrison door and on the train home. He usually hates the train—it’s crowded and loud and cramped, but today, he doesn’t mind. Everyone else seems to be filled with the same lethargy he has, and he can just. Sit. And lean his head against the window, and think.

Keith’s been…quiet, lately. Not enough to concern their parents, Shiro thinks, because they haven’t brought anything up to him—but then again, he has been away for a few months, and Keith’s at an age where he might not want to get all caught up in telling things to his parents. Still, Shiro’d like to keep judgements for after he’s actually talked to Keith. He doesn’t want to make snap judgements, not for something as important as potentially his entire relationship with his younger brother.

Shiro closes his eyes and just feels—the cool glass sticking to his forehead, the rumbling of the train over the tracks, the faint headache creeping up at the edges of his head, his heartbeat that’s just a few beats too fast (a remnant of the past month of over caffeination and stress and not enough sleep), his tense shoulders.

He’s so tired.

He dozes, for the rest of the ride home. It’s not the most restful sleep, but it’s a solid five hours—it’s more than he’s had in the past week, so he wakes up at his stop feeling more coherent than he has in what feels like forever.

Walking back from the train stop, his bag swung over his shoulder, Takashi Shirogane is going home, and he’s so glad. He’s missed these familiar streets, these comfortable patterns of life. It’s peaceful.

(Well, it is until he turns the corner.)

Shiro’s parents live on a corner, but he walks up along the side and turns to get to the front yard, where there’s a sturdy, tall tree in the front. When he was younger, he loved to climb it—and apparently Keith’s learned to do the same thing.

He turns, and it’s like a slow-motion crash.

The sky is bright, brilliant blue. The tree, impossibly tall, stands with its leaves waving gently in the wind. Keith is sitting amongst the upper branches, laughing at something Shiro can’t see. Shiro barely has time to smile and drop his bags before he sees the disaster occur.

Keith leans too far back, just the slightest bit, and Shiro can see his eyes widen and he can hear him gasp as he falls, leaves ripping apart as Keith crashes down.

Shiro runs toward the tree, but Keith falls faster than Shiro can make it across the yard and Shiro has to watch his little brother hit the ground and bounce.

He doesn’t get up, and Shiro is at his side almost immediately, babbling and shouting in terror. He doesn’t remember what he’s saying—something about Keith being hurt and Keith please God open your eyes Keith please—and he’s so scared and before he knows it his father is pulling him back, emergency services are lifting Keith onto a stretcher, and their mother is getting into the ambulance as it shrieks off.

Shiro can’t breathe.

He’s on the ground again, hands bracing him from behind as he stares up at his father. He can see his reflection in his father’s glasses—wide eyes, and absolutely terrified.

He doesn’t know what to do.

His father helps him up, and then they’re in the car, driving towards the hospital.

Shiro just keeps seeing Keith hit the ground on replay in his mind—the way his head had landed against the ground, bouncing and hitting it again and then staying achingly still.

Then they’re in the waiting room, and a nurse is talking to Shiro soothingly, trying to convince him that he’s in shock and he needs to sit down and she’s probably right but he can’t just sit and wait for news he doesn’t want to be taken care of he wants to know if his brother is okay he just—he’s hyperventilating. Maybe the nurse has a point.

It feels like forever later (Shiro never did learn how long they waited, and he never asked, to be honest) that a doctor comes out and tells them that Keith’s fine—stunned, a broken arm from hitting branches on the way down, bruised ribs, and a mild concussion from hitting the ground—but he’s alive and awake and he’ll be just fine.

Shiro doesn’t believe it until he sees Keith, small and pale and bruised but sitting up and talking to their mother softly from his hospital bed. As soon as Keith turns and sees him, he grins brightly, and Shiro can finally breath again, and his hands stop trembling.

He makes his way over to Keith, and cautiously pulls him into a tight hug, squeezing his eyes shut.

He was so, so scared. Keith is only twelve—he’s too young to be terrifying his brother like this.

Keith whispers, softly, but Shiro hears him all the same.

“I could hear you, you know. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I knew you were there. You’re always there, when I need you to be.”

They never talk about it, later, and Shiro honestly isn’t sure if Keith even meant to say it out loud, but he did all the same and Shiro knows what it means that Keith even though that, about him. He just holds him tighter, and feels the tension leave them both with every breath.

(Four years later, Shiro is lost to space, and every time he goes to sleep he faces that moment when Keith hit the ground, except in these dreams he doesn’t wake up, because Shiro’s not there for him when he needs it. Not anymore.)

But right now, in this moment, Shiro cradles his younger brother and swears to himself that he won’t ever be too late ever again.

(He doesn’t realize until he’s back at school that he never did get around to figuring out what was up with Keith.)

In Dreams 5

Y'all ready to go AU??

Rating: Gen

FBI FIELD OFFICE
CHICAGO, IL

The Chicago field office is newer than the Hoover, but at it’s most basic level, is still government building. The whole place is builder-grade, with cracked ceramic tiles and low pile carpet in the bullpens. The forensics dept is basically the same as any in a standard police department or CSI office. It is essentially glorified a teacher’s lounge with high tech lab equipment and five-year-old computers.

Thankfully, a morgue doesn’t require much flash. As long as she has her equipment, she’s happy.

Well, not happy, in the month and a half since her arrival, she’s been making a pretty good show of it though.

She’s able to work with a certain level of anonymity here. The field agents are focused on organized crime and gangs, not her spooky reputation, which seems to have blown away in the windy midwest. She can be whoever she wants here. Maybe she likes the corny jokes the guy in fingerprints regales her with everyday. Perhaps she’s the kind of person who joins the forensics department book club. She could be the kind of woman who wants a cashmere sweater because Oprah recommended it. Couldn’t she?

Keep reading

Closer--Imagine #9

Anonymous asked: Can you do an imagine where you and your crush are roommates and you come home from a really stressful day of school/work. you go into the kitchen and like drop a glass or something, so he comes running out, sees you tearing up and just holds you? flufy if possible please. sorry for so much description thought it might help haha

A/N: I really loved writing this. It was fun getting a chance to write angsty fluff. ;) Thank you for this lovely request. <3


Slamming the door closed, I threw my purse, keys, and jacket on the floor in a chaotic pile, and strutted to the kitchen. I had just gotten home from work and the boss had yelled at me again for something that wasn’t even my fault. Of course, I took the blame for it because the person who was actually responsible was friends with the boss. So much for equality, I thought, huffing. I thumped down the hall like an elephant of the small apartment me and c/n shared as roommates. I didn’t bother saying hi to him as I passed his bedroom door that was cracked. I was seeing red. Anger and sadness was overtaking me and all I wanted to do was get into comfy clothes and shut the world out for a couple hundred years. 

“Hey, y/n, how’d your da–” 

“Fuck off,” I shouted from my room, not bothering to close my door as I tore my clothes off in a haste and threw sweatpants and a hoodie on.

Silence followed my outburst and I stormed down the hall again, heading to the kitchen, passing c/n’s shirtless figure in the doorway of his bedroom. My eyes flitted to his chest for a millisecond before I shoved his chest and continued on my warpath. Normally, his naked chest was a welcome distraction that would make my week the few times I saw it. But right now it was only adding to my fury, since it reminded me that we’d never be living together the way I wanted. And I hated him for it at that moment.

“Put a shirt on, bitch,” I spewed, tasting the bitterness of the words in my mouth as I reached the kitchen.

In a hurry, I began grabbing the washed dishes that c/n had placed in the washing machine and moved like lightning, practically throwing them into cupboards. I had learned that anger made me a whirlwind of productivity and if I couldn’t do something right for my boss at my job I could at least be productive here at home, where I know someone would actually appreciate it. 

But apparently, haste really does make waste. I learned that the hard way as a glass I had placed carelessly close to the edge of the counters fell to it’s death, when my elbow shoved it over the edge as I finished putting the plates away. 

“FUCK!” I shouted, my face flushing with anger. Feeling the red hot tears flood my eyes, I bent down to pick up the pieces. Exhaustion, frustration, and anger pulled me to the floor, and I didn’t have the strength to get up again as my emotions choked me. I curled into a ball on the tiled floor. Sobs escaped my trembling lips as I covered my face with my hands. 

Not a moment later, warm arms wrapped around my fragile body, enveloping me in comfort. Feeling my body being lifted off the ground bridal style, I gripped at c/n’s now hoodie clad chest. Through the tears that relentlessly fell down my face, I saw that c/n had moved us to the couch. As he sank into the cheap sofa we’d purchased together at a yard sale, he gently stroked stray hairs away from my tear-streaked face. 

“Shitty day at work?” his gentle voice whispered.

I nodded, my eyes closed, yet still producing hot tears that he kept brushing away with the soft pad of his thumb. We stayed there for awhile, c/n letting me get out all my frustration through ugly crying. I don’t know how long it was until my loud cries subsided into soft whimpers, muffled by his now damp hoodie. All throughout my episode, he stroked my hair, peppering my temple and cheek with feathery kisses. His grip on me didn’t weaken and I let my body relax. 

“How are you now, darling?” He asked, brushing away the last few tears that were slowly traveling down my blotchy cheeks.

My red eyes met his clear one, and my breath was almost taken away by the concern and gentleness etched into them. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles from staying up late, studying for college exams. 

“I’m better, thanks to you,” I croaked, my voice raw.

“I’ll always be here, y/n. Rain or shine. I’ll always be here,” he reassured. 

I moved so I was straddling him, and wrapped my arms around his neck. Burying my face into his neck, my nose settling on the soft skin, I breathed in his scent. My change in positions hadn’t stopped his hands from working through every knot in my locks. The sensation was one I never wanted to stop feeling and I ran a hand through his own messy hair. My favorite type of hair on him was his bedhead style, which he was sporting today. 

“I’m sorry for being such a wreck,” I mumbled, my lips moving against the skin on the base of his neck. I thought I felt him shiver, but I brushed it off as my imagination. 

“You’re not a wreck. You just need some sleep and someone who will care for you and tell you how great you are at all the things you do,” c/n replied into my hair, his gentle hands running up and down the length of my back. 

And at that, he lifted us off the couch, supporting me with his hands under my butt. A deep blush crawled up my neck, and settled on my cheeks. 

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, my voice barely higher than a whisper. 

“To my bedroom. Where you can sleep and I can be that someone who will care for you and tell you how great you are at all the things you do,” c/n answered, repeating his words, before adding, “Especially being you.” 

I hummed in response, already feeling that sleepiness that came after a good cry. My eyes were closed when I felt my limbs being lowered slowly onto what I guessed was c/n’s soft mattress. His large palm, stroked my cheek as I felt him pull the cool comforter over my limp body. The warmth of his hand left and I opened my eyes to see his retreating form.

Extending my hand, I whimpered loud enough for him to hear me. I was too tired to form words. He turned and a confused expression fell over his face. I curled the fingers of my outstretched hand, telling him to come closer. 

His face loomed over mine as I whispered, barely audible, “Closer.”

He leaned his ear to my lips, so close that when I spoke they were brushing against it. This time, when I moved my lips, there was no questioning his shiver.

“Still not close enough,” I whispered.

He pulled back, looking at me with an amused face. He knew I was teasing him. And I knew he was pretending to be this stupid because he enjoyed it when I did. Finally, he ended our game, and crawled over my still form to slip under the covers on the other side of the bed. I turned and scooted, and he pulled me as close as possible to his body. I sighed in comfort. The boyish smell of his pillows and comforter pulled me deep into sleep like a drug as well as the heat that engulfed me, emanating from c/n’s strong arms. So we slept the day off, and as I laid in his arms, I felt an overwhelming peace, a feeling of safety, settle over me, my tired limbs finally receiving the rest they’d been deprived of after years of feeling lonely. I was home.

Well, since I decided to pile all of my seijoh 4 week art and writing at the end and post it all together, I’ll post this one first since I’m done with it. Based off the fic by daisuga on Ao3, What Beautiful Battlefields You Are. Please go read,it’s so good. My thing probably isn’t anywhere near historically accurate, but it was good practice for drawing backgrounds, skies, and flowers. I hope you like it!

anonymous asked:

How'd your story turn out in the beginning? Did it garner many attention even from Chapter 1? As a fellow author sometimes I feel a little hopeless when my fic doesn't get that much recognition firsthand. I know there's nothing I could do since the fandom is constantly overflowing with new content and mine is just another grain in the pile. I <em>really</em> look up to you, so I hope you reply! :D

No story is ever going to be super popular straight from the get go, popularity usually builds with time. You’ve just got to keep going and write what you love, although I know what you mean about feeling hopeless before and I have discontinued stories before because of a lack of response. 

For me umfb&mha started with a reasonable popularity. If I remember rightly I got about 300ish kudos on the first chapter and maybe 100 more each time I posted until I hit sort of chapter 8ish when it started to rise and that was the most popular something I’d written had ever been by a long way! If you’re writing multichapter keep in mind that popularity is likely to grow with time so don’t get disheartened too early!

Also another few tips which may or may not be useful is, in a big fandom like YOI where new content gets lost a lot of the time because of the amount of stuff people produce every day, be smart about posting. Tag well so when people filter for specific stuff they like they can find yours. Make your summary interesting and not too vague so people know what they are getting into but are also interested to read more. Don’t write things like ‘I suck at summaries’ or ‘this is so random but please read’ in the summaries because it will turn people off immediately. Same goes for having a fic with no paragraph breaks. And pick a good time to post. Figure out when traffic on Ao3 is high and when people are most likely to read and post then. 

Good luck with your writing!

anonymous asked:

ii saw a gif set of niall folding laundry, write a blurb about him doing it pleaseeeeee

It had been a long week for you. You were thankful for the weekend, but knew it would be filled with chores. You and Niall were constantly busy and let things go. Dishes were dirty, the floors were horrendous, and the laundry pile was getting to be much. 

You promise yourself that you will go to the gym, run the last of your errands and start on the many of the chores that have been left for the weekend. 

Niall was in the garage when you pull up and you give him a quick kiss before going up to change. You change quickly and drag the two baskets worth of laundry to the laundry room and separate the colours and the delicates. You start the first load before heading down. 

“Babe, there’s a load of laundry in the wash. Will you just toss it into the dryer when it’s done? I’ll finish up when I get home.” You peck his cheek and wave as you pull out of the drive. You hoped he would remember because it would be smelly if he didn’t. 

Niall watches you go and waves back. He could totally do this. He bites on his lip a bit. You did a lot for him during the week to take care of him, make sure that he was always ready. He heads in to the laundry room and puts on a timer to remind him to change it before going to start on the dishes. He washes and dries everything before going to change out the laundry and starting on another load. Between those loads, he vacuums and sweeps, dancing and singing to the music he had playing. 

He hung up his nice shirts and your nice blouses to dry so they wouldn’t ruin in the dryer. He’s seen you do it before. 

By the time you come home, he had cleaned up your home and was on the last load of laundry. He was folding it and still singing to himself as he was doing it. 

You look around and eyes widen. The house was basically spotless. “Ni?” You call out and wander to your guys’ bedroom. You watch him fold the cotton shirts of his and hang up yours. Even the bed looked like the sheets had been changed. 

“Hey,” Niall grins widely at you. “Laundry is done.” He nods and puts aside the last of his shirts. 

You shake your head slightly and you throw yourself into his arms, making him fall onto the bed. He tightens his arms around your waist. You lean in to give him a long kiss. “Let’s fuck in fresh sheets. Please.” You whisper, for some reason turned on more than you should be about Niall doing the household chores. 

“But… I just-” He stops when you palm him over his sweats. “Yeah, let’s.” He says a bit breathlessly. 

glasses || chris x eva

prompt: eva is studying at chris’ house after school but she ends up getting distracted by chris’ glasses.

requested by: anonymous

warnings: the tiniest amount of smut at the end.

a/n: i chose to write this because the thought of chris wearing glasses makes my ovaries explode.

//

If there was one thing Eva Mohn hated the most, it was studying. She hated even the aspect of starting it. There were so many better things she could be doing right now instead, for example she could be binge watching another show. Eva’s History coursework was piling up and if she didn’t pass on this, she would fail the entire subject.

Eva always thought that company made studying easier. She decided to go round to Chris’ house after school - which had become a weekly thing. Every Tuesday they would go to either one of their houses, make out a little (occasionally go further), talk for a bit and watch something. Although today she had to do some studying.

Eva lay on Chris’ bed getting frustrated with the coursework she was attempting to complete. The anger bubbling up inside her was so real and about to simmer over the edge, she was ready to toss her laptop out of the window.

“Breathe Eva, breathe.” She pushed the electronic device away from her, fanning her face as she started to sweat from frustration. 

Chris knew how stressed she got when it came to History, so he purposely distanced himself from her. He would either take a shower or just lie quietly next to her. Today he had opted for taking a shower seen as he had just been to the gym.

She collapsed onto the bed sighing deeply whilst covering her face up with her small hands. She needed a break. She picked up her iPhone scrolled through her instagram, seeing many pictures of people from her party which was the weekend before.

The door to the ensuite bathroom clicked open and out walked the one and only Chris Schistad in only his black sweatpants. His abs were gleaming and his arms looking extra delicious as there were small drops water peppering on his body.

Despite his naked torso looking fabulously beautiful. Eva wasn’t seeing that. All she noticed was the tortoise shell, large lens surrounded by a thin frame, pair of glasses adorning his face.

In all honesty, Eva didn’t know what to with herself when Chris made his presence known in a room with those glasses on.

Chris licked his plump lips and went to his set of drawers picking out a plain t-shirt to wear. He turned around and faced her with an adorable grin placed on his face.

“How’s your work going?” Chris asked Eva as he slipped the shirt over his head.

Eva wasn’t sure how to reply, her mouth was dry and she felt incredibly intimidated by how handsome he looked. She managed to snap out of her trance and coughed a little.

“Horrendously. I don’t understand it.” She replied.

Chris walked over to his bed and sat down next to Eva who had now moved to the end, her feet dangling off the edge.

“You know, History was my best subject. Let me help you.” Chris said and took the laptop from Eva’s lap.

Chris started to mumble some words as he read what was on the screen. Eva couldn’t help but admire his face that was concentrating, his defined jawline was just irresistable.

“Eva?” His voice brought her back into reality. “Are you listening?”

Her cheeks started to heat up a little in embarrassment. “Er…No, sorry.”

He rolled his eyes at her and commenced his explanation again, Eva’s mind started to wander to other places again. Absentmindedly her hands reached out to pull Chris’ glasses off. Before she could take them all the way off he grabbed her hands and looked her straight in the eye.

“What are you doing?” He attempted to sound accusing but a slight smirk was growing upon his lips.

“Nothing” She replied playfully.

Eva managed to wriggle her hands out of Chris’ tight grasp, still holding his glasses. She looked down at them and started to inspect the pair in detail. She manoeuvred herself around to face him, so she was sat crossed legs. “I really like these.” Eva said as she pretended to study them even more.

“Of course you do. You aren’t even listening to me?”

Eva tilted her head sideways, like dogs do when they are confused. She pretended to look as if she was thinking deeply. “Okay, maybe I wasn’t.”

“If you don’t understand it, then why aren’t you listening?” Chris moved the laptop off his knee and placed it onto his bedroom floor. He turned his full attention to what Eva was just about to say.

“I don’t know. I need help but I ended up getting distracted…”

“Oh really? I would never have guessed.” He replied sarcastically whilst silently smirking.

Eva placed Chris glasses back onto his head and fully looked at him, she was starting to completely lose it internally. She had been losing it to Chris for a while now but today was just the icing on the cake.

They weren’t together, well they were but not officially. She thought that was the best part about it. They both needed and wanted each other the same amount, everyone else and they both knew that they were basically a couple but they didn’t need to have a label. That was what made it so perfect.

“Mhum” Eva mumbled something unrecognisable, before wrapping her arms around Chris neck. “These are just such a big turn on for me.” She continued as she pointed at his glasses.

As soon as their lips collided, they were fighting for dominance. Their hands tangled in each others hair. Chris’ hands slowly slid out of Eva’s hair and inched down to the bottom of her back.

“You in those glasses, it does undescribable things to me,” She says out of breath.

“Maybe I will continue to wear them around you.” Chris replied with a smug smirk plastered across his face. He kissed her again. “So I can always have this treatment.”

Eva giggled against his neck as he reached down and squeezed her bum.
After this encounter, he definitely kept his word. Chris would purposely put his glasses on whenever Eva was around. Even if they weren’t alone, he would tease her in front of their friends by taunting her. Sometimes she would pounce on him to have a quick hook up. Other times she would just admire his beauty from afar and realise how incredibly lucky she was.

//

A/N: I am so sorry this update took so long! I’ve got exams this year and i’m trying to start revising now, so i’m probably going to be slow. I posted this on my wattpad ages ago and only remembered now to post it here. Requests are always open.

How I spend Valentines Day:

● Spend the whole day on tumblr looking through Nirvana blogs
● Save cute pictures of the band members
● Put them in an album called ×Babes×
● Add other cute pictures from my other albums to ×Babes×
● Keep watching them all day
● Spend the whole day fantasizing about being in a relationship with Kurt, Krist and Dave
● Realize that it would never happen
● Fall into depression
● Keep watching more pictures while listening to Love Buzz
● Get more depressed
● Go to Youtube
● Watch Nirvana music videos
● Smile while watching Sliver
● Feel better
● Go back to Tumblr
● Decide to post something
● Write this huge pile of text
● Know nobody would read it
● Do not care and post anyway

❤Happy Valentines Day❤

Originally posted by hipstaswag23