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ediths · 3 years

Text

here’s to us

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Enemies To Lovers (with a twist)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You hate Harry more than you’ve ever hated anyone else, and he feels the same (or does he?). The people around you see the interactions that the two of you have and believe that you’re a match made in heaven, but you can’t see it, and you doubt he can either. When he’s the last option to help you with a project that you’re working on, things are either going to go very well, or they're going to crash and burn.

Warning(s): alcohol, cursing, kink talk, angst, sadness, innuendos, tension, a set of lovers trying to convince two people that they’re meant for one another, fluff

A/N: this was originally a piece written for a writing challenge but that’s been cancelled (i love u liv take your time i will still participate in any and every wc you ever do bb) so this is now just another piece haha!! Thank you to @tbslenthusiast and @harrysclementines for letting me know that this piece wasn’t as bad as i thought it was (literally forever ago like.... i wrote this a long time ago lmao)!!! Also thank you to @kiwismoon for letting me send you parts of the fic and scream about how much i hate myself for writing things like i did!!!

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Relaxing.

That’s what you were supposed to be doing tonight. You’ve been stressed out about the article that was due in less than a week and you were in need of a night out with your friends. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find the inspiration to write the piece. Plus, you had been completely swamped with your school work. Even though you were still in college, you had gotten a job as a writer and chosen to take online classes.

Sarah had suggested that you and her go out and have a few drinks. That had quickly developed into you, her, and Mitch. Then your ‘friend’ Michelle was added into the mix.

Now, you’re standing at the bar, waiting for your next shot of tequila and wondering how you let Sarah talk you into this. You hate bars. In all honesty, you only hate them because someone always seemed to mess up your nights when they were drunk. Luckily, that someone isn’t here tonight. You had made it abundantly clear to Sarah that if she were to invite anyone, it better not include him.

As the bartender hands you your shot, you down it and place the glass down on the bar. You wait for him to retrieve it before turning to walk back to the table that Sarah, Mitch, and Michelle are occupying. Right before you sit down next to Sarah, you catch a glimpse of a very particular head of curls. Your stomach drops at the sight, and you immediately feel the urge to exit the building. There’s no way that you could mistake that for anyone else but Harry. He’s the only person that has curls as seemingly perfect as that. Plus, he’s the only broad shouldered, muscular, tattooed man that you’d ever seen around here with hair that’s grown out to the point where it passes his shoulders.

Fighting the instinct to be as far away from him as possible, you sit down next to Sarah and do your best to ignore his presence.

That lasts all of three seconds. It’s as if something is pulling your focus towards him, and you can’t stand that, so you quickly tell Sarah that you’re going to head out. Grabbing your coat, you give her a story about suddenly having inspiration and not wanting to lose it before offering to take her almost empty cup back to the bar. She nods, wishing you a farewell.

As you’re making your way over to the bar, someone knocks into you and the small amount of liquid left in Sarah’s cup splashes onto your chest. You scoff, turning to tell whoever bumped into you to watch where they’re going. You’re met with a pair of piercing green eyes, and suddenly your words get caught in your throat. All you manage is a scoff and a quick “fuck you” before handing him the cup and walking out.

You stand outside of the bar, leaning up against the brick wall of the building as you order an Uber for the ride home. The stench of alcohol is radiating from your shirt, and you almost gag at the smell. Beer has never been your favorite, and you have absolutely no clue how Sarah can drink it.

You place the order and go to stand on the sidewalk to wait for the car to pull up.

“Fancy seeing you here.” The voice seems to carry through the entire street.

“What the fuck do you want, Harry?” you snap. The chuckle that he releases at your words makes your blood boil.

“Just wondering why you’re avoiding me, love.” You don’t have to turn to know that he has a smirk plastered on his face.

“Do you have a degradation kink or something?” Your words have their desired effect as he all but chokes on the air.

“Um, no. Why? You trying to turn me on, darling?” You roll your eyes.

“Absolutely not.” How can he be so fucking annoying all the time? “I’m just wondering why you continuously pester me after I tell you how much of a dick you are and that I absolutely cannot fucking stand you.”

“Because normally when you do that, you find some way to compliment me. And I think it’s funny how flustered you get when you realize what you said.” You hear him walk closer to you, but you keep your eyes locked straight ahead of you.

“So you have a praise kink.”

When he speaks, his breath hits your ear. Fuck, you didn’t know he had gotten that close. You have to fight the shiver that’s threatening to run down your spine. You can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s having any kind of effect on you. “Do you want to test it out?”

You scoff, stepping away from him. “You fucking wish, Harry.”

He hums. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You finally turn to him. After seeing him, though, you begin to regret your decision. Seeing him like this, in a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, hair forming his face in the most perfect way, isn’t doing you any good.

“I’m not going to be your temporary fix, Harry. Go find someone else to give you a good time.” He puts on an exaggerated pout. “I don’t even like you as a friend, so stop fucking around like that. It pisses me off.”

Before he can say anything else, your Uber arrives and you check the plates before getting in the backseat and shutting the door, effectively blocking him out.

What he would have said if your Uber hadn’t pulled up, though, is something that Harry decides you’ll never get to know. Because just when he was about to say, “I’d want you to be more than temporary,” you found a way to break his heart yet again.

The Uber driver has continuously given you looks since you got into the car. His nose scrunched up the moment that you closed the door, and honestly, you can’t blame him. You smell like cheap beer and probably look like an absolute mess. He’s most likely just checking to make sure that you don’t look like you’re about to throw up all over his backseat.

You roll your eyes, trying your best to ignore him. It’s not even your fault that you’re like this right now, it’s Harry’s.

Harry, who you absolutely despise with every bit of your being. He’s been an arrogant, selfish dick since the very day that you met. He only cares about things when they include them, constantly dropping comments about his success, and always finding a way to insert himself into any and every situation. You can’t seem to get away from him. He seems to be around no matter what you try (at first, you thought it was a coincidence, but now you’re convinced that he just does it to get on your nerves).

Harry, who’s so fucking annoying and unbearable but also so hot that he makes your mouth all but water. He can draw a reaction from you without even trying. Harry, who you’re so fucking attracted to despite hating him, and that fact makes you hate him even more.

It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t be attracted to someone that makes your blood boil.

I’m just drunk, you repeat to yourself as you push the thought of Harry as far out of your mind as you possibly can.

You groan as you walk out of the kitchen.

“Y/N you know I’m right!” Sarah yells after you. “Stop trying to avoid it.”

Plopping down on Sarah’s black faux leather couch, you roll your eyes even though she can’t see it. “You’re delusional, Sarah!”

She doesn’t say anything until she comes into the living room and sits on the couch next to you. She has a bowl of chips in her hands. When you go to grab one, she pulls the bowl from your reach.

“Admit it, you and Harry would be absolutely great together.” You could scream. She’s so adamant about the idea, but there’s no way that she could be right.

“Dude, we hate each other. What do you mean? What do you expect from us in a relationship if we can’t even be in the same room together for more than a few minutes without arguing.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“I know, I know! But Y/N, come on. The two of you are so compatible.” You laugh at her words. How could she possibly think that when she sees the way the two of you interact.

“How so?” you ask, just to entertain her theory and let her get her thoughts out.

“Okay, hear me out. You both like music, right? He sings, you write songs. That’s literally perfect right there, even if you were just friends.” You nod, not saying anything. “You’re always talking about how you want to do hair and nails and stuff for your friends and I know that he’d let you paint his nails and play with his hair.” You had in fact been telling her these things, but you weren’t aware that she would choose to use them to try and set you up with Harry. “You’re both really funny and smart. You guys talk about a lot of the same things, too. It’s just never when you’re around each other.”

“Alright, yeah, that makes some sense.” She perks up slightly but you hold a finger up, motioning for her to wait a moment before getting her hopes up. “It makes sense, but you’re forgetting a few things. I couldn’t write songs for, or even with, Harry. He’d find something wrong with him just like he does now. He’d nitpick them until there was nothing that I could find about the song that he didn’t hate.” You sigh, thinking back to what she had just said. “We’d have to be too close to each other for me to mess around with his hair or nails and you know that every time we get within a few feet of each other, there’s some kind of fight that always gets started,” you trail off, giving her a chance to speak.

“Are you going to give me a reason why the last example of why you’re perfect for each other is incorrect?” She groans when you nod.

“Yeah, actually. We may like the same things and be funny and smart or whatever, but there’s no way that we’d be able to talk to each other.”

“Why?”

“His communication issues.” She throws her head back and obnoxiously groans.

“He doesn’t have communication issues.”

You burst out laughing. “He’s an Aquarius. Of course he does, right on top of those commitment issues.”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever, Y/N. One of these days you’re going to understand that the two of you are quite literally a match made in Heaven.”

“Not likely,” you mumble before reaching for the remote and finding a movie to put on.

“Wait, what?” Mitch is looking at Harry like he’s grown a second head.

“You guys were right. Always have been, really, I just couldn’t say it before now.” Harry gulps, waiting for the ‘I told you so.’ It doesn’t come, though.

“Fuck, dude, I’m so sorry.” Harry shrugs it off.

“Not letting it get to me anymore. I’m tired of letting her break my heart.” He curses himself when tears begin to line his eyes.

“If I had known you really felt that way I would have backed off.” Harry nods at his words. “Sarah would’ve too.”

“It’s fine, Mitch, really. I just, I’m just tired, you know? It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling me to her but every time I try to get close she shows me, yet again, that she can’t stand me.” He’s never been ashamed to show his feelings, and right now isn’t when he’s going to start. He lets his tears fall down his face as he leans back against the chair he’s sitting in.

“I really didn’t know, H. Normally I can tell when you like someone but it wasn’t like that this time.” Harry nods at him.

“You get pretty good at hiding your feelings when you’re hiding heartbreak after heartbreak.” He’s silent for a moment. “Should I cut off my hair?”

“If you want. But don’t do it just because you’re sad or you’ll regret it.” Harry closes his eyes as he debates the decision. A part of him wants to do it anyway, make the sadness go away for a moment as the exhilaration of a new haircut sinks in, but the rational part of him knows that Mitch is right.

As he sits there with tear stained cheeks, new droplets wetting his face every few seconds, he really wishes that he could hate you. He wishes that he could find anything to hate about you. But when he searches his brain for a reason to dislike you, he comes up empty. It’s frustrating, really. You seem to hate everything about him while he can’t hate a single thing when it comes to you.

He hears Mitch get up, presumably to go get something to eat, but he doesn’t open his eyes. There are a million memories with you flashing through his mind and it hurts him even more to know that every single one of them have been bad.

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Your voice is high pitched, some would even say a little whiny. “Sarah, you promised me that you’d sing the song for me.”

“I know, Y/N. But something urgent came up with Mitch’s family and I have to be there.” Even over the phone, you can hear how worried that she is, so you can’t really bring yourself to be upset with her.

“It’s fine, Sarah. Really, I understand.” You hear her sigh of relief and a small smile graces your face, glad that she now has one less thing to worry about. “I’ll just find someone else to do it.”

“Ask Harry.” She suggests.

“Why would I do that?” The way your mood changed was immediate and it’s almost sad, how fast he gets you worked up.

“Because, Y/N, this project is due in like two days and he’s available.” She says in her duh voice. “Plus, he can sing really well, so just ask him. The worst thing he can say is no.”

“That’s a lie. The worst thing he can say is yes.” Sarah laughs before wishing you good luck and hanging up.

You groan, thinking about what Sarah said. She’s right, honestly. There’s nobody else that you’re going to find on such short notice, especially not one that can sing as good as Harry can. Admitting to yourself that you need him (which is something you never thought you’d say), you pick up your phone and click on his contact.

“Y/N?” His voice sounds deeper than usual, a little raspier, too. Almost like he just got out of bed. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t have an effect on you, the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth when he sounds like that.

“I need your help.” You grimace at the words.

“Alright. What do you need.” Your mind races, trying to figure out why he didn’t have a sarcastic comment or a snarky remark to throw at you. You ignore it for now, though.

“I need you to sing a song that I wrote for a project.” He hums, and you can picture him pulling his bottom lip between his fingers and then running his hand through his curls.

“Okay, when do you need me?”

“Does tomorrow work? Around noon?” You hold your breath as you hope for the best.

“Yeah, I’ll be at your place then.”

You thank him and hang up, letting your phone fall from your hand down onto the couch. Harry Styles, the man that you swear you hate, is coming to your house tomorrow.

When he arrives the next day, you almost immediately hand him the song and let him read over it, not necessarily wanting to spend any more time with him than needed. When he says he has a few suggestions, you’re terrified that he’s going to tell you how awful he is, but he actually only has a few suggestions to help with the flow of things. Besides that, he promises that it’s a really good song.

You go to grab your camera and set it up while he strums on the guitar that he brought. Once you’re ready to begin filming, he sets the paper with the lyrics on it to the side and nods.

He begins singing after the camera has started recording and you get entranced by him almost immediately. His eyes close as soon as the first word leaves him mouth and with them shut you feel much more comfortable while looking at him. His hair is flowing all around him and you have the intense urge to tuck the strands behind his ears. There’s a small crease between his brows, that of which she wants to smooth out with a kiss to his forehead. He seems so concentrated, and something about it pulls at her heartstrings.

You shake your head. He’s your enemy, remember? you think to yourself as you divert your eyes to somewhere else in the room.

After you’ve looked away you find yourself wondering why. Why do you hate Harry so much, really? Yeah he can be arrogant and cocky and rude but who isn’t? Yeah he talks about his famous life and his awards and chart placements a lot, but you would do the same in his shoes.

Plus, he really is pretty funny now that you stop to really think about it. He’s all the things that Sarah had told you over the past few months, and you can’t believe that you didn’t realize until now. You don’t hate Harry, you’ve been convincing yourself that you do to hide the way that you really feel about him.

You’re broken from your thoughts when he clears his throat. Once you turn to him, there’s a smirk on his face. “Could feel you watching me, love.”

Your cheeks burn at the statement. Regardless of the truth in it, you’re still not very keen on admitting that you were ogling him only minutes prior.

“It’s alright, I find myself looking at you sometimes, too.” You don’t say anything to that, and the room falls quiet.

With that stupid smirk, that’s way too hot for it to natural and fair, he picks up his keys and his coat and walks to your front door. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You raise your hand in a pathetic half wave goodbye and try your best to smile. As he opens the door, cold air sweeps through the room and you can see the snowflakes falling outside. “Great, there’s a storm.” He groans, but still continues to walk out the door.

“Harry, wait!” He stops, turning to face you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Um… leaving?” He gestures towards his car that’s most likely covered in snow by now.

“Not in this weather you’re not.” Your voice grows hard as you glare at him. You know that he’d most likely rather not be around you, but there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to allow him to risk his life by driving home.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t put up a fight, he just shuts the door and shrugs his coat back off. He hesitantly comes back over to take a seat on the couch. You stay silent, struggling to find the words to say.

“So, um, do you want to watch something?” He asks after a few minutes of nearly unbearable silence.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching Lucifer on Netflix, but if you don’t want to watch that, we can watch a movie or something.” You offer, looking over at him.

“Yeah, we can watch that.” You grab the remote from the table and walk over to sit next to him on the couch.

Pulling up Netflix and starting Lucifer, you let your eyes wander to Harry for a split second before noticing that he’s already looking at you. You immediately divert your gaze. Your cheeks begin to heat up, but you try your best to ignore it.

After watching almost an entire season of Lucifer, you’re just about ready to go to bed. You’ve gotten increasingly more comfortable beside Harry and you’ve even started to lean into him slightly. Not a single part of your body is touching yours, but you can tell that you’ve gotten closer.

You’re about to get up and brush your teeth when the lights go out. You groan, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. “Great, power’s out.”

He doesn’t say anything, just hums in response.

“Stay where you are. I know where the candles and the flashlight is, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to get around.” You stand up, feeling your way through the living room towards the kitchen. Opening the cabinet closest to the wall, you pull out the three candles and the flashlight. Fuck, you forgot that there are only two candles. That’s not enough for there to be one in the hallway on the table, in the bathroom, and in the living room for Harry. And fuck, your extra blankets are in the washer.

You shake your head, lighting the candles and walking to the bathroom to place one down, and then through to the hallway to do the same. Making your way back to the kitchen, you pick up the flashlight and switch it on.

Once you reach the living room again, you clear your throat. “Okay, bad news. There were only two candles, and they need to be in the hallway and the bathroom.” You cough awkwardly. “Also, my extra blankets are dirty and I don’t want you to lay out here in the dark and freeze to death so,” your voice gets quieter, “do you maybe wanna come lay with me?”

He chokes on his spit and then clears his throat. “Um, yeah, yeah, sure. If that’s okay with you, of course. Remember, I can always go home.” You shake your head as his words.

“Nonsense, come on.”

Once the two of you are in your room, you climb into your bed and wait for Harry to do the same. Neither of you say a word as you get comfortable as you try to get to sleep. Without the heater working and there only being one blanket, though, it’s a little hard to stay warm and comfortable. “Um, Harry, I- can I- you- can we maybe… fuck I don’t know.”

You feel him turn towards you. “Are you cold, love?”

“Yeah.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, letting you lay your head on his chest and wrap yourself up in his embrace. His arms come to wrap around you and one hand finds its way to your hair as the other rests on your hip.

As you bask in his warmth, you try your best to not let yourself think about the way that you feel so perfectly comfortable in his arms. About how he smells so divine and he’s so warm that you’d be content with never leaving his embrace. About how, without even realizing it, you’ve been letting yourself believe that you hate Harry when really you’re in love with him. However, you’ll never tell him that. Not a chance. If there’s one thing that you absolutely will not do, it’s let Harry Styles break your heart.

When you open your eyes the next morning, you’re still in Harry’s arms. He isn’t awake yet, so you let yourself appreciate the way that his hair is tickling your face and the way that his arms are holding you tightly to his body. You let yourself enjoy the way that he’s got ahold of you like he can’t bear to lose you.

You know that when he opens his eyes, everything is going to go back to normal. You’ll have to hate him again and he’ll pretend that none of this ever happened. That thought shouldn’t hurt you as much as it does.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by his voice. “Mornin’, love. Did you sleep well?”

You nod, all but entranced in the way that his voice is so much raspier when he first wakes up. “Sorry for being all over you, it was cold last night.”

You go to move away from him, but he keeps you hugged to him. “Don’t apologize, like having you here, dove.” The words confuse you, but you don’t question them. Instead, you let yourself relax back into him.

Everything is silent for a few minutes, but the air is comfortable this time. “Do you wanna go get some coffee if the roads aren’t bad?” Harry whispers.

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of you climb out of bed and get ready for the day. You let him use an extra toothbrush and once you brush through your hair, you hand the tool to him. He gives a small “thanks” and gets to work on taming his hair as you walk out of the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he’s walking towards the living room with his keys and then he’s leading you out the door to his car.

The ride to the coffee shop is silent besides the hum of the radio, neither of you really knowing what to say.

Once the two of you slide into a booth at the little diner that he drove you to, you order a coffee and something as he does the same.

“So, tell me about yourself, Y/N. I don’t really know much about you.”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out what to tell him.

“I write. My job is to write articles for this company. But I’m still in school technically, so I’m taking online classes to finish getting my degree. I like songwriting. Um, I think that’s about it.” Your cheeks heat up as you tell him about yourself, although none of the things that you’re listing are embarrassing.

“Why haven’t you ever talked about your songwriting before?” He ponders, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“Um, you hate me. Or.. hated me? I don’t know. I don’t want you to tear it apart just because you’re some hotshot writer. Or because you hate me.”

He pulls back, looking down. “Never hated you.”

“What?” You had to have heard that wrong.

“Ever stop to think why I was only rude when you got rude first?”

Your jaw drops as you think it over. “No, um, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, well. I never hated you.”

“So, you’re telling me that I hated you and you just… never hated me?” He grimaces.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He offers you a soft smile. “It’s fine.”

Throughout the next few hours, you sit there with Harry and talk about any and everything that comes to your mind. He pays for the bill, although you insist on letting you help. As you’re walking out to his car and he’s about to drive you home, he stops. “Um, hey would you maybe want to hang out some more?”

The question takes you by surprise, but you agree nonetheless. “Yeah, I actually would really like that.”

He nods, climbing into the car as you smile to yourself.

It’s been six months since you made Harry stay over at your house because of that pesky snowstorm, and you’ve never been more thankful for the weather.

You’ve spent the majority of your time together, going out to eat when possible and staying over at your house most nights. His is too big, as you’ve always said, so for the simple sleepovers, you insisted that he came over to yours. You’ve grown closer and closer to him, and now you can confidently say that he’s your best friend.

Along with the growing friendship, your feelings have gotten deeper. There’s not a single part of you can deny that you’re absolutely, head over heels in love with Harry. And you don’t want to anymore. You still don’t want to tell him, but you’re no longer lying to yourself in the slightest.

Today is the only day thus far that you’ve even slightly regretted how close that you’ve become with Harry. And that’s because you’re currently standing at the airport, head buried into his chest as you try to find a way to say goodbye for the next six months.

“Don’t want you to go.” You whine as you hold him as close as you possibly can.

He murmurs a “fuck it” before pulling away from you.

“Come with me.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “I know, it sounds crazy. Absolutely ridiculous. But listen, we’ll go home, back to your place and we’ll pack your bags and then we’ll go. I’ll reschedule my flight. I- I can’t do this without you, Y/N.” He reaches up and runs a hand through his curls (which you’d begged him to let you braid, but he said it was easier to have it down for flights). “Listen, you’re my rock. I- I feel like I can breathe when you’re around me. Fuck, Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

You freeze, completely shocked by the words that fell from his mouth.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. That was stupid. Forget I ever said anything.” He’s rambling because he thinks there’s no way that you can feel the same but you do.

“I’m in love with you, H. Have been for a long time.” Before he can respond, you surge forward and grab his face in your hands. Bringing his face closer, you slot your lips with his and allow the kiss to envelop you. After a few moments, you pull back. “Let’s go home and get my bags packed.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #okay yeehaw tell me what you think #here's to us

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likeshipsonthesea · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if you take requests for nurseydex fics... but if you do the song “omg did she call him baby” by Beth McCarthy screams a heartbroken Nursey when Dex has a girlfriend

i like really can’t do genuine heartbreak but i CAN do angst that ends happy, so here’s my best shot :)

Nursey’s got a red Solo cup in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other and it’s sometime after three but before five and he is definitely not thinking about her or him or them together when he looks up between one sip and another to see the telltale blue hair reflecting the murky spotlights of the basement.

Nursey squints. He could be making things up--his brain is nice like that-- but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things. She’s got very distinctive hair, Dex’s--girlfriend. It’d been rather disappointing, actually, the blue hair. The whole thing had been easier to deal with when he’d been picturing some light-haired brunette going for an economics degree who smiled like a mom at soccer practice. Someone who Nursey could reasonably dislike on grounds of, like, predictability.

But no, Dex had to bring home a blue-haired physics major with a nose ring and good taste in music and the ability to out-argue Shitty while polishing off Bitty’s pie, i.e. perfect. Even Lardo couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t awesome for Nursey’s sake. Even Nursey can’t pretend like Amanda isn’t awesome for his own sake. She’s just so--so--

Nursey squints.

So-- making out with some random girl in a blouse at a frat party.

What the fuck.

Nursey is about two margaritas and three years too deep to be dealing with the emotional ramifications of catching the girlfriend of his best friend (who he’s also kind of sort of possibly maybe totally in love with) macking on some consultant for Goldman Sachs or some shit in the basement of arguably one of the worst frats at Samwell. This one doesn’t even have good music, Nursey’s only here to get drunk without the possibility of Dex calling Nursey Patrol and helping Nursey up the stairs and saying nothing about the poetry Nursey spills or the way his hands linger.

(Fuck does Nursey hate Nursey Patrol, fuck does he hate how much he loves it.)

Nursey downs the rest of the champagne flute--which was probably mostly orange juice at this point anyway-- and hands the red Solo cup to a freshman gearing himself up to talk to a cute boy a few feet away and then Nursey gets the fuck out of dodge. He manages to get a better look at the corporate recruiter Amanda is cheating on Dex with (and really, if you’re going to cheat on Dex, you’re really going to pick a chick in a blouse that probably has opinions on the stock market???) and if he hadn’t been sure before, the distinctive tattoo on Amanda’s shoulder proves that it’s really her.

(“Tattoos? Tattoos? I have tattoos.” “I know you do, Nurse.” “They’re really nice tattoos.” “I know they are, Nurse.”)

Emerging from the basement and then the frat house itself is instantly sobering. The chill from winter hasn’t quite left the air at night and Nursey wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t think about how Dex chirped him about not wearing a coat before he’d left. The frat isn’t far away from the Haus, thank god, but it is slightly farther when he turns left instead of right and then has to a backtrack a bit, but he still gets back in under ten minutes and he can still feel his hands, so overall, a win.

Attempting to get into the Haus quietly is a lost cause, given its one thousand year old floor and the fact that a ladybug could fart in the kitchen and wake up the guys in the attic. Still, Nursey gives it the good college try, which is why he’s creeping ridiculously through the living room when the light turns on suddenly and he screams, much to the amusement of Dex, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”

Dex just smirks in that horribly attractive way of his. “How was the Psi-U basement?”

Nursey thinks of blue hair, washed out in the lights, Amanda’s hand on that girl’s cheek, the way Dex smiles when he’s around her. “Fine,” Nursey says, swaying.

The amusement falters and Nursey wishes he could figure out a way to keep the smile on Dex’s face the way Amanda does. Dex takes a step closer. “Are you alright?”

Nursey shakes his head violently and takes a step back, a step farther away. This is the part where he says yes, yes of course Dexy-darling, I’m right as rain, what about you? This is the part where Dex rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Nursey’s waist, his warm side pressed into Nursey’s. The part where they go upstairs, where Nursey writes his best poetry that he’s too embarrassed to write down when he’s sober, where Dex tells him to sleep well and lingers outside the doorway long enough for Nursey’s breathing to slow and then the floor creaks and Nursey knows he’s gone and wishes he’d held on just a little bit longer--

“Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He means to say nothing, he means to say, I’m going to bed, he means to-- “Amanda, she--”

The concern turns to alarm. Why can’t Nursey ever make it better? “Is she alright? Did you see her? Is she okay?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He can’t seem to stop doing that. “She’s fine, she--she--” He swallows, and it’s sticky, cloying, citrusy and sweet on the back of his tongue. “She--there was this girl, she-- Amanda, she--”

Dex won’t stop frowning, concern knitting his eyebrows together with three short wrinkles, and Nursey has wanted to smooth them out with his fingertips every time he sees them since sophomore year, and he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be telling Dex this while he’s drunk, shouldn’t be telling Dex this at all, but he’s Nursey’s friend first and Nursey has to believe he’d tell Dex regardless of the love thing, he must--

“She was kissing some girl. In the Psi-U basement.”

The wrinkles smooth out. The amusement returns. Nursey--he can’t make sense of it over the ringing in his ears. Why is Dex smiling? Did--did Nursey do that?

“Did she look like a lawyer?” he asks, and at Nursey’s confusion clarifies, “The girl Amanda was kissing. Did she look like a lawyer?” Nursey nods dumbly. Dex’s smile only grows. Nursey is so, so confused and also more in love than he’s ever been. “Finally. I just won fifty bucks.”

What the fuck. “What the fuck.”

Dex laughs--laughs. “The girl’s name is Tammy. She graduated last year and moved to Boston. Amanda’s been in love with her forever, and I bet her that she’d get with Tammy before I--” Flush appears high on Dex’s cheeks, the soft pink one that means embarrassment and Nursey imagines would taste like cherry pie against his lips.

Nursey is--still quite a bit drunk. He needs--clarification. “You--you bet your girlfriend that she would get with her friend at a frat party?”

Dex’s nose scrunches up in Nursey’s favorite way--the same way it does when he’s trying to write humanities essays, the reason Nursey always says yes when Dex asks for help. “Girlfriend? Did you think Amanda was my girlfriend?”

Nursey remembers the start, hearing about Amanda every other day, then every day, then it was, sorry I can’t come, I’m meeting Amanda at-- and then one day at Annie’s, a girl with blue hair and a sharp grin yelled Babe! from across the room and planted a kiss on Dex’s cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder, sipping from his coffee cup, getting him to smile like that--

“Well, yeah.” Nursey’s head is spinning and, for the first time tonight, not from the gin. “Is she--is she not?”

“Oh God, no, she’s so fucking gay, dude.” Laughter twinkles in Dex’s eyes. Nursey is drunker than he’s been since freshmen year of high school when Shitty snuck in some of his dad’s hard liquor and the janitors found them on the roof singing Disney songs at the moon. Dex’s girlfriend is gay. Dex’s girlfriend isn’t his girlfriend. Dex is--is smiling at him like he smiles at his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”

“Oh wow,” Dex grins, leaning into the doorframe, “I can’t believe you thought--and you thought telling me my girlfriend was cheating on me at 3am while shit-drunk was a good idea?”

Nursey says, “Hey, honesty is important, and I’m not--” He stops. He remembers something. He squints. “Wait. If you bet 50 bucks on Amanda getting with Tammy, who did Amanda bet you would get with?”

The cherry pie blush is back. Nursey takes an absent-minded step forward. The room feels so much lighter now that Dex’s girlfriend isn’t cheating on him. The distance between them feels so much sillier now that Dex doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“Ah, well.” Dex rubs at the back of his neck, all country bumpkin sheepish to ask his sweetheart to the dance, and--and--

“I’m the sweetheart,” Nursey realizes with the kind of crystal clarity only afforded by the most copious amounts of alcohol.

Dex’s eyebrows furrow, those sweet little wrinkles appearing between them, and Nursey takes two long strides forward and presses his thumb into them. Dex goes cross-eyed trying to watch, but moves his eyes to meet Nursey’s after a moment.

Nursey grins, likely a bit sloppy from the gin, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “I’m the sweetheart,” he repeats, beaming.

Dex tries to repress the smile at his lips. “You’re not a sweetheart.”

“Yes I am,” Nursey sings, listing forwards. “You like me.”

“You’re an asshole.” Dex’s smile grows. Nursey watches its progress and sways.

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” he says, tracking the pink lips as they spread, revealing teeth and--and tongue and--

“I hate that you can still say mutually exclusive when you’re this drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”

“How do you plan on--”

If Dex’s mouth weren’t so preoccupied, he might say that the taste on Nursey’s tongue is a good indication that he is in fact fairly tipsy, but as it is--well. He’s got other things to do.

(Amanda asserts that they tied since it happened on the same night and only pays $25. Tammy throws in five more and a condom and they call it even. Nursey kisses away Dex’s protest and pockets the condom, much to Amanda’s amusement. Turns out, she’s even cooler when she isn’t dating the love of Nursey’s life.)

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xkaileo · 3 years

Note

For the one shot request:

Sasuke coming back from his first redemption journey a couple of years after the war. He meets naruto at ichiraku, then Sakura happens to walk by. Naruto insists she join and she’s so happy sasuke is back, but keeps the interaction “friendly” not “young girl talking to her crush”. Quickly after she gets a scroll from a bird and has to go. Naruto then explains that Sakura is in really high demand and basically brags about all of her accomplishments and everything she does for the village as a medic but also as a jounin. Sasuke is proud and happy for her but it’s not until later when he sees her sparring someone really good (Tsunade, Kakashi, Yamato, anyone from Anbu) that he is s t u n n e d. Like jaw to the floor. He can’t resist watching and maybe activates his sharingan by accident. It is not until like 10 minutes have gone by that he notices her ANBU tattoo for the first time.

So of course canon-divergent. I know it’s super clunky the way I laid it out (can you tell I’m no author?) lol anyways I thought it would be really nice to get a look inside Sasuke’s head the first time he’s gotten the metaphorical wind knocked out of him by Sakura haha.

Ask and you shall receive, nonny! This one was fun to write, having Sasuke sort of be stunned by her and feel just the need to do something about it; it was fun to put him in a position where he had to push a little to get something out of Sakura. Enjoy!

She's A Hot Commodity

It was amazing how much the Hidden Leaf Village could change over two years. More than Sasuke had expected, honestly; he'd thought the village was done with its constant renovations after multiple attempts for it to be destroyed. Well, they'd nearly come close one time, though he'd stepped in to assist. Meteors falling off the moon… who would have thought?

His first stop was Ichiraku, as he'd made one promise: he was going to treat Naruto to a bowl of ramen when he got back. His blonde friend was already there, waving wildly as he approached.

"Sasuke! You're back!" Naruto gave him a hug in greeting, to which Sasuke begrudgingly allowed. He wasn't one for physical affection, but one hug from his best friend wouldn't be the end of the world. Plus, he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't. Naruto would spend their entire lunch pouting and whining about it if he was turned down.

As they were seated, both boys heard a familiar voice behind them, and it was… None other than Sakura. Sasuke couldn't help but stare, just for a moment. It'd been a long time. She'd grown out her hair and seemed to be wearing it up in a ponytail. When had it got so long? Now that he thought about it… It'd been a little longer when he left, but now it had to be almost to her waist. He hadn't seen it that long since they were kids. He… liked it, if he was honest.

"Sakura." He nodded in greeting, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile. He was glad to see her. Maybe now he'd be able to take things… a little further, to put it simply. He'd left her with nothing more than a promise, and this was the start of it. He was here. He'd returned. Whether he would stay for an extended period was another question, but he did plan to offer for her to accompany him this time. He just had… a few errands to take care of before he left again.

"Sasuke! It's been so long!" Sakura came up between them and threw her arms over his and Naruto's shoulders, giggling as she was hanging out between them. "Would you look at that? My two favourite dorks are having lunch together. You know, Sasuke, if he's got you here against your will, all you have to do is ask." Well… Ramen usually would have been against his will, but this time, it wasn't. He was surprised when she leaned closer to his ear, her voice no more than a whisper.

"There's a new place that opened that serves rice balls if you need an escape." She clapped him on the back before turning to Naruto, who'd caught her attention.

"Sakura, join us!" He encouraged, and her expression went thoughtful for a moment before she agreed. Naruto shifted down one seat, allowing Sakura to sit between them. Sasuke didn't want to admit he was glad Naruto had shifted down; he wanted to sit next to Sakura, but he wasn't sure if she would have done that of her own accord. He couldn't blame her; it'd been a long time since they'd spoken, and there was… a lot they needed to talk about. She seemed… different. Not unfriendly, but there was something different about the way she was talking to him. No more blushing or bashful looks in his direction. He'd expected that much from her, but… was it possible something had happened?

Maybe… maybe she'd moved on. He didn't want to think that, but it seemed to be a possibility. Nevertheless, if that were Sakura's decision, that would have to be how things were. Friends were better than absolutely nothing.

Just as she was about to order, the sound of a messenger hawk could be heard, interrupting their conversation. Naruto and Sakura had been chatting animatedly, Naruto having made some dumb comment that Sakura was reaming him for while Sasuke chuckled at their antics. At least some things never change. He's still opening his mouth when he should be shutting it, and she's putting him in his place… as usual.

"Oh… I'm sorry, guys." Sakura's expression turned to a frown. "This is for me, and it's urgent. I have to get going. Sorry again. Let's pick another day to get ramen together as a team, though, okay? And… it's good to see you back, Sasuke." She gave him a smile that lit up her whole face, and it made his heart skip a beat. She was different, sure, but it was… nice. It made him feel a bit giddy.

"Yeah… Shoulda seen that one coming," Naruto admitted.

"Does that happen a lot?" Sasuke was genuinely curious. He knew Sakura was a hard worker, but she always knew how to make time for her friends. It seemed out of the ordinary for her to disappear so suddenly. If it was the hospital, wasn't Tsunade there to help out?

"Yeah, it kinda does. Sakura's kind of a big deal around the village now. It makes me a little jealous." Naruto, jealous? Sasuke wondered just how important she was, but as always, Naruto had the explanation. "She's done so much stuff! She opened a clinic for all the kids in the village that lost parents during the war, and she's been working with Ino and some professionals to get them the help they need. Just so they don't feel alone, ya know? You and I both know no one deserves to feel like that." After all, they were the very same kinds of kids that that clinic was helping. Sasuke was shocked and also touched. Had Sakura done all that in two years?

"Oh yeah! And she works super hard at the hospital. She's one of the only medical ninja in the village who's allowed to take missions alone, and that's a huge deal! She's been going to all kinds of places on missions, mostly deliveries or to provide medical help, but I swear she's always gone on a mission! She keeps asking me to water her plants like… every week." Naruto didn't mind her asking that, though. He liked taking care of them. Gardening was oddly calming.

"Wow," Sasuke remarked. It was not what he would have expected out of Sakura… not precisely, that is. He knew she was brilliant, but looking back to how they were as kids… no, when they'd first been put on a team, he never would have expected that much out of her. "Has she been doing anything else?"

"Oh yeah! She mentioned somethin' about taking on a team of genin, too. I think she'd make a great teacher, don'tcha think?" Naruto elbowed Sasuke gently, earning a grunt out of him and a nod in response. Sakura would make a stellar teacher. If she took on a trio of genin as their Jounin sensei, then they would undoubtedly be a force to be reckoned with.

He was… proud of her, honestly. To think she’d come so far from her capabilities when they were kids… she was so incredibly talented, it even made him a little jealous. He’d been a prodigy, but to see her hard work coming to fruition was exceptional. She was amazing. More impressive than he was expecting.

------------------------------------

It’d been days since he’d last seen Sakura, and after only briefly meeting her, he decided the best way to pass the time until she returned was training. He liked training; it kept him in shape, allowed him to practice living life with just one arm, and helped him clear his mind when it got too tumultuous to handle. Making his way to the training grounds, he was stopped by a flicker of familiar chakra that crossed the vision of his left eye.

Sakura? She was… Training? He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. That, and he found himself deeply intrigued. Like a curious cat, he made his way to the edge of the trees, remaining at a safe distance where he could watch. It looked like she was training with Kakashi, whom he would have considered a force to be reckoned with. He was a former ANBU, after all.

Wait… no. It wasn’t just Kakashi there. Yamato was there, too, and… wait, was Sakura taking them both on at the same time? His curiosity was piqued enough that he activated his Sharingan, using it to track her movements; in high-speed fights like these, it was a necessity. He would've never been able to keep up with Sakura's motions otherwise.

He watched her, amazed beyond belief. Every movement she made was fluid, each motion flowing into the next like an unbreakable chain. There was no hesitation or consideration; she moved without thinking, her body reacting with an impeccable natural flow. He’d never seen such fluid movements before, not even back during the war. What had she done since he’d been gone? He knew she was a Jounin now, but this… no, she had to be more than that. She was well above the level of a Jounin. It was almost an insult to put her that low.

He stared for longer than he’d expected, watching as she evaded both Yamato and Kakashi’s tactics, dancing around them like they were nothing. He watched as her long, pink hair flowed with every movement, even the occasional piece sticking to the sweat that formed on her brow. Even as she turned, he could see the concentration in her gaze, focusing on every motion. There was strength and power in the way she moved. There was one thing that bothered him, though, one thing he couldn't shake.

When had Sakura become so beautiful? He remembered her being cute when they were kids, though he hadn't been in the right state of mind to say anything about it. He'd also noticed she was prettier as they got older, but he'd never been able to take the time to appreciate it. Now, staring at her, he realized how attractive she was. He was taken aback by what he was seeing. It made his cheeks flush, made his heart race, and also made his heart wrench. Maybe… maybe he'd have to say something to her: something direct, this time.

It wasn’t until Sakura stopped, calling a halt to her training with Yamato and Kakashi to take a breather, that he noticed something else. He knew that symbol. Other Jounin he knew and had met bore it too. This wasn’t friendly training between three Jounin. It was so much more than that. But it made Sasuke wonder…

When did Sakura decide to join the ANBU? That was undoubtedly one of the last things he'd expected of her. As he stared at her training, he hadn't realized her gaze had turned in his direction; once he did, he ducked behind one of the trees, heart beating rapidly. Had she seen him? Had she caught him staring so openly at her? He hoped not. The last thing he wanted was to seem weird or creepy. One thing he did know was that Sakura's temper was terrifying, and he would have preferred not to be on her bad side.

"You're not doing a very good job of hiding, Sasuke." He looked up to see her above him on one of the branches, a smile teasing her lips. He startled at the sound of her voice, grumbling under his breath and turning away as the faintest shade of pink dusted his cheeks. Damn. She really was good. She'd caught even him off-guard.

"I wasn't hiding," he lied. Oh, he knew he was hiding, all right. He simply refused to admit it. "I thought this training ground was empty. I was mistaken." He heard her feet land in front of him, which urged him to keep his face hidden from her; he didn't want her to see just how much his cheeks had coloured at her appearance. It was all he could do not to look back and stare, admiring every inch of her toned figure.

"You're also not very good at lying," she teased further, taking a step toward him. "What's got you all flustered?" Damn. She hadn't missed it.

"It's hot outside." Technically not a lie; it was a scorching summer day, and he was wearing a heavy cloak. "I'm just flushed from the heat." Definitely a lie. His cloak was designed to keep heat in and keep cooler air closer to his body, like a cat's fur coat. It kept him comfortably thermoregulated.

"Liar," she accused.

"Tch." He wasn't going to dignify that with a response. She giggled in response to his gruff comment, leaving him to straighten as if he were on his way. She… was in his way, though, which meant he had to brush past her to leave. As his eye opened, he realized she was closer than before. He could smell her from where he stood. Her skin glistened with the faintest layer of sweat from her training, hair sticking to her cheeks and forehead. It didn't bother him; he was used to much worse sights.

Nevertheless, her skin was glowing from the exercise, and the way her green eyes sparkled made her look prettier. So pretty, he could feel his heart racing. He couldn't bring himself to move. If he so much as touched her, he knew what he'd end up doing.

"Sasuke, are you… okay?" Her head tilted to the side, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Stop it, he tried to scold her mentally, knowing it wouldn't work.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Liar. With one sharp breath, he took a step forward, his hand reaching to brush her out of the way gently. She stepped in front of him, stopping him and grasping at his wrist. He remembered that grasp; it was the same way he'd done it to her years ago, a firm but gentle grip. She released it after he stopped moving. Their gazes drew together instinctively; no words needed to be spoken between them. Sasuke felt a growing sense of worry after what he'd realized. Sakura was ANBU. That meant she put her life on the line every day, every mission, everything. It meant that at any moment when she wasn't on a mission, the Hokage could call her for one, and it could be the last time anyone would see her.

He couldn't wait. The moment Sakura released his wrist from her grasp, he reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair as need took precedence over logic. His lips crashed against hers fiercely, years of restrained emotions flaring in his chest as he kissed her. She seemed surprised for a split second but was quick to reciprocate; he felt her hands lock around his neck, leading him to skim a hand down her back, pulling her body tighter against his. At some point, he turned, pressing her back against the tree as they continued their motions, eventually breaking apart to breathe, staring at one another with wordless affirmations.

#sasusaku #sasusaku oneshot #sasusaku fanfic #sasusaku fanfiction #sasukexsakura #sakuraxsasuke #sakura haruno #naruto shippuden #anbu sakura #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sakura #sakuraharuno #harunosakura #sasukeuchiha #uchihasasuke #sakura uchiha #sakurauchiha #uchihasakura #xkaileo oneshots

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kenanda · 3 years

Note

For the smut prompt a lonelyeyes mix of 106, 111 and 127? If you want only.

This took a while, but it was just too good a prompt not to give it my best shot. I hope you enjoy it.

Happy belated birthday!! Consider this your gift from moi <3 🎁🎉

prompt 106. “Were you just masturbating?” “U-uh..no, i was just..” “Want some help?” prompt 111. “You have no idea how much I want you.” prompt 127. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

CRAVING Rating: EXPLICIT Words: 5,7k Pairing: LonelyEyes Characters: Elias Bouchard; Peter Lukas; Tim Stoker; Martin Blackwood; Gertrude Robinson (mention); Jurgen Leitner (mention). Tags: Established Relationship; Parenthood; Smut; PWP; Mutual Pining; Fluff; Sweet; Masturbating; Cock sucking; Handjobs; Scent Kink; Fingering; Anal Fingering; Anal Sex; Dirty Talk; Banter; Wearing the other's clothes; Doting Parents!LonelyEyes; unbeta'd; Tim and Martin are their kids AGAIN

Disclaimer: These characters AREN’T mine. They belong to Rusty Quill’s The Magnus Archives. Warning: This work ISN’T SUITABLE for minors. It’s a NSFW piece of slash fiction. Therefore, if you’re a minor or in any way squicked by what’s in the tags, DO NOT READ!

Filthy, FILTHY LonelyEyes below the cut, my beloved. It's official, this is now a Verse.

Ever since they became parents, Peter and Elias haven’t known what alone time is anymore. Life is a jolly mess most of the time, with all things required for the rearing of two children. Even if the boys are now a bit older and can shoulder small responsibilities, it still seems like too much is going on at once.

Some days are more hectic than others, which often sends the two men to bed at 10PM feeling like they could sleep for days. Work hasn’t been any better in allowing for a break — Peter’s schedule has him away for months every now and again, and Elias can hardly ever catch a break from the Institute (he’s the Head, after all).

Needless to say, it all takes a toll on their love life. They can count in one hand the number of times they’ve had a weekend for themselves in the past few years. When they want sex, it’s always rushed and quiet, afraid that one of the kids will wake up because of a nightmare and ask to sleep with them.

Elias misses the days when he and Peter would go on long dates and weekend trips; catches himself thinking about those every once in a while, of how they would spare a day to stay in their room talking and getting each other off. They aren’t that young and horny anymore, but there’s still enough of that old spark that Elias will sometimes get turned on merely watching Peter doing mundane stuff, like doing the dishes.

To think that they didn’t get along at first. Elias chuckles whenever he remembers the first time they were together. Peter had been a cocky bastard, but Elias had been cockier and given Peter one hell of a show. Elias still has the eye tattoo on his stomach, but he had removed the nipple piercings once he’d started working. Peter had been so impressed by them, he had played and pulled on them with his teeth once they actually went on a proper date.

Elias lets out a nostalgic sigh.

“Everything alright?” Peter asks over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Elias breathes. “Fine. Just reminiscing about stuff.”

“Such as…?” Peter rinses a bowl of oatmeal.

“That time you used to be more of an insufferable arse.”

Peter snorts. “You’re one to talk, love.”

Elias can’t help a smile. “We turned out alright. Sometimes though, I miss those days.”

Peter’s disbelief is visible even from his back. “Really!? We used to be swamped all the time, and there was that professor, Jonah- Wouldn’t leave you alone. I think he wanted to — what was it he used to say — see you.”

Elias shudders with a disgusted noise and gets up. He circles Peter’s waist and hooks a chin over his shoulder, pressing their bodies flush enough that there’s no mistaking that he’s half-hard. Peter drops a spoon in the sink with a clatter.

“Oh, wow, hello there.”

Elias giggles. “I miss you,” he whispers. He gives Peter’s nape a slow, open mouthed kiss, causing the larger man to shiver.

“Elias…”

“I know, I know.” Elias pauses, buries his nose into Peter's neck, where his silver hair has grown past his ear. He smells so good. “I could take a day off tomorrow. We could ask Gertie to keep an eye on the boys over the weekend. She’s always delighted to see them.”

After the beach incident in which they had met, Gertrude Robinson had become a dear friend of the family. She and her husband (an old scholar with a booming voice and a gentle face called Jurgen) had a massive library and a collection of items from all over the world. The boys always returned home with strange facts about books and places of which neither Peter or Elias had ever heard. Gertrude also had a grandchild a year older than Martin, Jon, whom Martin had (at the tender age of seven) sworn to marry.

Peter thinks about it for a moment, but doesn’t sound too hopeful in his reply. “They’ll need me at work tomorrow. I already said I’d be there, and it could take a while.”

“Can’t always have it all...”

Peter turns around and holds Elias’s face to give him a kiss. Elias struggles at first because Peter’s hands are covered in suds, but eventually gives in. The kiss is slow and warm; if he isn't careful, Elias can easily get carried away with it. Peter’s growing beard is ticklish, but when it slides down his jaw and neck, Elias has to stifle a whimper.

“I’m sorry, love.”

Elias shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’ll survive.”

That’s not to say Elias’s body will just quit the yearning — it becomes quite self-evident when Peter pulls away and Elias is half-tempted to chase his lips.

But then one of the kids calls him and he needs to go. It's like that the whole day.

Elias only gets some blessed alone time with his husband before bed. Peter pulls him into a hug and they kiss until they have to stop before it gets too hot to ignore. Elias grabs Peter’s hand when it slides between them, because one thing will certainly lead to another.

“Pretty please?” Peter pouts. It looks outrageous on him and Elias barks out a laugh.

Peter smiles, but it fades into something else — something charged. They are kissing again before they know it, and it’s insane how well Peter fits between his legs. The weight of his larger body on top of him, pressing down where it feels so good, has Elias wrapping both legs around his waist and using them for leverage. Peter hums in approval.

At least, Elias is not alone in his lust. Peter is usually quieter about his wants and needs, but once he’s into it, he’s ready to go all the way. Perhaps Elias should’ve been more careful, because now he has to live with the knowledge that Peter is right there and that he wants it just as bad as Elias.

They are humping through their clothes and Elias is ready to make a mess of his pants just like that when there’s a yell from down the hall. Elias’s head snaps up and he all but tosses Peter off of him to leap up and grab his robes.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“Is it Martin again,” Peter rubs his eyes tiredly, pulling a pillow over his clothed erection.

“Coming! Daddy is coming!” Elias yells back.

Afterwards, they cuddle in shared frustration until they fall asleep. When Elias wakes up the next morning, Peter’s boner is poking his arse, so he gives it a wistful little press. Peter groans and holds Elias there with an arm around his waist. Peter grinds up and Elias huffs into the pillow.

“Wanna finish what we started?”

“Be late for work,” Elias points out. Peter swears, but lets him go.

They’re out an hour later; Elias drops the kids off and heads to work. Heavy clouds of sleep deprivation and sexual frustration hang ominously above his head.

Thankfully, work is something he can lose himself in. He’s good at what he does and there’s something soothing about all those Excel sheets. Coupled with the steady hum of the AC, they almost make Elias forget his troubles.

But then he sees the flyer for this new jazz café that had opened a few months ago, where he had intended to take Peter on a date but never managed to make time, and his face falls. Damn, he misses his husband’s presence, his silly jokes and ridiculous sailor stories.

Lunch hour comes in a blink; Elias is poking a fork into his salad with an utter lack of enthusiasm when his phone chirps with an incoming message. He wipes his mouth and sees that it’s from Peter.

It’s a picture of Peter standing in front of a tall restroom mirror. He’s wearing the big old ratty coat he’d left with this morning, but it’s pulled halfway to the side to reveal Peter’s hand clutching the sizable girth of him through his grey slacks.

Elias chokes on lettuce.

What’s the meaning of this???

Been thinking of you. A lot. — is Peter’s swift reply.

Well, Elias has too, but not to this extent. Can I call you?

Peter calls him instead. “Hey.”

“Are you mad!? I’m in the middle of work!”

Peter laughs. “You talk as if you don’t have a cushy office all to yourself to play as you wish.”

“Yes, at least I can say that. You on the other hand, you’ve got a bloody crew swarming you every day.”

“I’m not on the ship right now. And there are stalls here.”

“You’re hiding in the loo?!”

“Had to. Wouldn’t stop thinking of you. Now, do you want to play?”

“You can’t be doing what I think you’re doing. What if someone comes in?”

There’s something hot and heavy about Peter's chuckle that makes Elias shudder. “A while ago, you’d be the first to say fuck it.”

“Well, apparently one of us has grown past that.”

“I bet you wouldn’t refuse if you could see how hard I am right now.”

It’s a bait. Elias knows it’s a cheap bait and that he’s gonna fall straight for it if he isn't careful. When he reaches down, he notices that he’s hard too. Shit.

“I’m not gonna do this. Bloody hell, not in the middle of work. Fucking Rosie could walk in. Did you know I have a reputation to maintain?” Elias pinches the bridge of his nose. “This can wait until we’re home.”

“We won’t have time then,” Peter replies. “And I miss you too, you know.”

Elias makes a pained little noise. “You have no idea how much I want you right now. But this will wait. We’ll figure it out.”

“How much? Show me.”

"Peter," Elias warns.

Peter gives it up with a breathy laugh. "Okay," he whispers. “See you at home. Love you.”

“You too.”

Apparently, Elias’ ability to stick to reason is intact even with his horny-addled brain. He lets out a deep exhale after the call is over.

The next ten minutes are spent willing his boner to go down by and focusing on work. It’s uncomfortable, but he manages. It gives him a headache for the rest of the day and much to think about — and even more to look forward to.

Unfortunately for both, Peter shoots him a message later on telling Elias that he will be home late and not to wait for him. The boys are disappointed, because it was film night and Peter had promised to watch Return of the King with them. Elias is sad, too; Peter had come back from three months at sea not a week ago, but again they have to be apart.

Elias helps the kids with homework and gets on a work call that drags on for an hour, which only serves to worsen his headache.

During dinner, Elias is taken aback by how observant his youngest is. Martin’s Daddy must be wearing his sourest look, for it prompts the boy to pat Elias’ hand (exactly how Peter does when someone’s upset) and tell him:

“Don’t be sad, Daddy. Dad will be home soon and then you can complain to him about work.”

Elias nearly chokes on food the second time that day. Tim chimes in.

“Yeah, dad. Don’t worry about it. The old man knows what he’s doing.” And without missing a beat, with those big brown eyes of his. “Can I play before bed?”

“Definitely not. You’ll wake up cranky tomorrow.” Tim pouts, tries again, but Elias’s word is final (even if he feels soft after their comforting words). “Thank you, boys. I know how much you look forward to movie night. I’m sorry it didn’t work.”

Tim shrugs, digging into his pasta. Martin is quick to come up with a solution.

“Can you read for us, daddy?”

That catches Tim’s attention. Elias crosses both hands over the table.

“Oh? What would you like me to read?”

Martin leaps out of the chair and thrusts a tomato-sauce covered spoon up in the air. “The adventures of the incredible Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag-End!” he roars.

Tim rolls his eyes.

It doesn’t take them long to sleep with Elias reading The Hobbit. Well, it doesn’t take Tim long to sleep (he’s heard this story countless times before and it's a favourite, even if now he says it's for babies) — Martin is paying close attention and interrupting Elias every now and again to ask questions. When the youngest finally drifts off, Elias tucks him in and puts the book back on the shelf.

Tim is almost as tall as Elias now, but Elias can still pick him up from Martin’s bed and carry him to his own bedroom. For someone who wanted to play video games and rolled his eyes at their book choice, his oldest fell asleep very swiftly.

Elias clears the dinner table, does the dishes and puts the rest of the food away. It’s a little past 10PM now and Peter is still not home. Elias only hopes nothing bad has happened (especially after today’s surprise).

Elias finally has a chance to shower and spends five minutes just letting the hot water spray massage his back. He considers touching himself — the awareness that he could use an orgasm and that now is the perfect time to achieve it is very present within him — but before he comes to a decision, he’s already stepped out of the bathroom.

Peter’s sleep t-shirt seems to eye him from the bed as Elias pats himself dry. Should he? After all, why not? He misses the old fool.

Elias pulls the t-shirt on and has to suppress a laugh at how silly he looks, greying brown curls plastered to his forehead and lean body looking too small in that tee — Peter is many sizes larger than him, so the item reaches halfway down his thighs. Elias pulls on some underwear and crawls into bed with a book. The t-shirt is so large that he has to keep adjusting it lest it falls below his shoulder.

For the first hour, Elias tries to read. He really, really does. But perhaps wearing Peter’s clothes hadn’t been his brightest idea. The item is soaked in Peter’s scent, which is positively distracting. Elias catches himself reading the same line three times and lets out a frustrated groan.

“Okay, fine! Fine, I’ll do it!”

Elias shoves the book onto the bedside table and ducks beneath the duvets, lying on his side. He’ll make this as quick as he can and then he’ll go the fuck to sleep.

He runs a hand down his chest, but it feels more perfunctory than pleasant. When it's Peter doing it, it has Elias shivering in no time. Elias closes his eyes and tries to relax, tries to think of how it feels when Peter rubs a rough palm over his nipples and kisses his belly until he squirms.

Elias has left the door open and his ears peeled to any sounds of little steps in the hallway, so it takes a while to concentrate on the ways his body is reacting.

Eventually though, it becomes easier — there have been no steps, no sounds but the soft little puffs of air that he’s letting out. One of his hands is rubbing a nipple through the t-shirt and the other is cupping his cock. Pleasure finally takes over when he presses that hand down his pelvis and a shiver runs up his body, arching his back.

Elias slips a hand under the waistband of his underwear and wraps it around his cock to pull back the skin. It’s getting hot and damp under the duvets, but Elias doesn’t plan to make this long. Just a bit more and he’ll come.

A twist of his wrist has him shuddering and letting out a breathy curse. Elias pulls the too-large shirt up to his nose and takes a big inhale. His mind is filled with Peter and he darts a tongue out for a taste, but gets none.

Still, he has had Peter in his mouth times enough to remember his taste. It makes Elias wet at the tip. He’s so close, so fucking close — but he’s also tempted to keep edging himself; keep thinking of all the things he wishes Peter would do to him. It’s been too fucking long, and he knows that if he doesn’t give his body what it wants every once in a while, it will just keep coming back to bother him.

But then again, the mess… And he’s so close, so, so close. Just a bit more, just drown out everything else.

Elias is so lost in his chase that doesn’t hear it when the front door clicks open; nor when a heavy coat is hung on the hallway pegs; doesn’t notice some of the lights being turned on and off, and is completely oblivious to the figure standing on the threshold and the socked steps that carry the man inside.

Elias only notices that Peter has arrived home when the duvet is gently pulled back and Peter’s smiling face pokes into his line of view — but by the time Peter has let out a soft “hey darling, what are you doing” Elias has already let out a blood-curdling scream and punched him in the face.

Peter falls flat on his bum with an expletive. “Jesus! What the fuck, Elias!”

Elias clutches his chest, breathing hard. “Oh- Oh Lord Jesus. My heart, my poor heart.” He turns to Peter with murder in his eyes. “What the hell were you thinking sneaking in like that?!”

Peter gets up, rubbing his sore bum. “I didn’t exactly try to sneak in, maybe you just didn’t hear me. I wasn’t particularly trying to be quiet. What the hell are you doing still up anyway?”

Elias ignores him. He snaps his head to the hallway. “Do you think the kids heard it?”

Peter shrugs, still sore.

“Get on!”

Peter grudgingly goes to check on the kids, but comes back shaking his head. Elias falls back into bed with a relieved sigh. Peter takes up a spot near the edge.

“What are you doing up? It’s way past midnight.”

Elias then remembers that his (now very much limp) dick is still out under the duvets. “Nothing much, I was just reading.”

“You were reading under the covers in the dark.”

Elias nods.

Peter isn’t convinced, but that gives way to a confused frown. “Hold on, is that my t-shirt?”

Elias looks down as if he hadn’t realised he had been wearing it. “Huh. I guess.”

Peter’s frown deepens. He touches the duvet. Elias clutches it and holds it down on reflex. Peter’s mouth opens in an accusing “oh!”

Peter can be very stubborn when he sets his mind upon something. This time, said something happens to be getting the covers out of the way.

Elias curls in on himself and burrows deeper into the duvet, but Peter (the cheap bastard that he is) resorts to tickling. Elias muffles an ugly laugh into the pillow. Peter is laughing too.

“Stop! Fuck, I’ll show you, stop!” Elias wheezes. Peter’s laughter dies off. He combs Elias’s damp hair backwards and kisses his cheek.

Elias sits up and pulls the duvet aside, feeling completely undignified. His cock is poking out above the underwear, but at least the t-shirt is covering it.

It’s enough for Peter to put two and two together.

“Were you masturbating?”

“No. Like I said, I was reading.”

Peter reaches for the hem of the shirt. Elias grabs his hand. “I said I was reading.”

Peter drops it, lets his hand fall to Elias’s thigh. A moment later, he gives it a squeeze. “Want some help?”

Elias narrows his eyes at him, then glances at the clock. Way, way past midnight.

The squeeze is back, travelling upwards. In spite of his better judgement, Elias’s legs fall open to give it more access and he sighs in defeat. So much for a steely resolve.

Peter slides a palm under the shirt but doesn’t get the item out of the way. Rather, he caresses Elias’s stomach and lower pelvis. Elias shivers deliciously; he’d been dreaming of this all day.

“You’ve been holding back a lot today,” Peter points out after Elias gets hard with just some light teasing. Peter hasn’t even touched his cock.

Elias wiggles to get Peter to touch him, slides down the bed. The invitation is clear enough, but Peter seems to be waiting for a verbal one. “I was being a sensible adult.”

Peter smiles. “Thought you’d like a bit of sexting. You used to love it back in uni.”

Elias had always been weak to Peter’s eyes, especially when they’re looking at him as if he’s something to be slowly savoured and then swallowed. Elias rolls his hips, staring at Peter’s hand on his inner thigh. The movement almost makes it touch his cock, but misses it for a few inches. Elias huffs in frustration.

“Thought you said you were going to help.”

“I can only help if you tell me what you want.”

Elias rolls his eyes at him. Peter waits happily.

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

“My cock.” Elias wants to punch him when Peter merely raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. “Touch my cock, please?”

If that doesn’t do it, Elias is getting a divorce. To his delight, it awakens something in Peter that makes his eyes go dark with lust.

“Fuck, yes. But it’s too dry- Where’s the-” Elias passes him the lube before Peter finishes the sentence. “Love you.”

Peter squirts some lube onto his palms and rubs them together. They’re cool when they touch Elias’s inner thighs and drag down, massaging the region and getting it all wet.

Elias sighs, eyes fluttering momentarily. He can’t help but roll his hips to ease some of the tension. He’s so hard and Peter is taking so long — but when he finally does it, Elias hisses through clenched teeth.

“Feels good, love?”

Elias bites his lower lip, chin tucked to his chest as he watches that big fist pumping wetly around his cock. Only the glistening head is visible, hot red and ready to shoot. Peter rubs a thumb under his frenulum and Elias sees stars.

“Ah, shit,” he sobs, grabbing fistfuls of the too large t-shirt and fucking into Peter’s fist, because the squeeze is so damn good.

Will Peter mind if Elias sniffs his shirt? Fuck it. Elias balls up some fabric and pulls it to his nose. The action doesn’t escape Peter; in fact, he seems entertained by it.

Elias notices his husband’s amusement only through half-lidded eyes, because every single part of his body feels like molasses right now.

“Look at you, ’s like you’re drunk in it.” Peter licks a finger and presses it up Elias’s perineum.

The pressure sends a thick dollop of pre-cum leaking down Elias’s cock. Elias’s eyes roll back into their sockets. Peter taunts him further.

“Want me to put my mouth on you or do you want something better to sniff on?”

“Fuck you and your dirty mouth.”

Peter laughs. “You can, baby. Always loved the way you shiver when you come down my throat.”

Elias points a weak finger towards the door. “Close that first.”

Peter goes and Elias hears the unmistakable sound of a lock falling into place. Peter sheds his shirt and trousers on the way back. Elias can see the outline of his cock against his underwear and makes grabby hands at it.

Peter chuckles and stands next to the headboard. “Can’t decide?”

Elias forgoes the shirt in favour of leaning over the edge and burying a face into Peter’s groin. He takes a deep inhale and mouths at it, dragging his tongue all the way up.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I’ve missed this.”

Peter moans above him and cradles his nape, pulling at the fine hairs there to make Elias shiver. Elias gives his own cock a few lazy pumps while his mouth is busy getting Peter’s underwear all damp.

Elias steals a glance at the digital clock again and whines. Peter asks him what’s wrong.

“I want to fuck you so bad right now, but look at the time.”

“I am looking. It’s working fine.”

Elias swats at him. “I’m serious!”

Peter lets go of Elias’s nape to cradle his face, guiding him upwards. Elias follows it, standing on his knees.

“I’ve bought Red Bull,” Peter confides, and that’s the most beautiful thing to ever come out of his mouth. Elias melts a little just then.

Peter grabs his arse and pulls him to himself. The feel of his underwear is rough against Elias’s cock, but Elias ruts into it. The hand on Elias’s face has now slid to wrap loosely around his neck. Elias pulls Peter’s underwear down and Peter wiggles out of them.

Peter’s cock hangs heavy where it’s nestled amid the thick silver hair on his groin. Elias’s mouth waters at the sight of it, but he eagerly presses them together. The hairs on Peter’s chest and lower abdomen feel coarse against his skin, but Elias loves every second of it. It will leave him tender and pink tomorrow, but he doesn’t care.

Peter pulls him into a kiss that is everything Elias has been craving all day — it doesn’t stop at his mouth, but drags down his jaw and neck, making him pliant. Peter moves his face from one side to the other to nip under his ear and suck bruises onto his collarbones.

“Got rubber?” Elias asks. Peter growls affirmatively.

It’s been a while, but they know how the other likes it. Elias is dripping wet with lube while Peter preps him. Elias would usually prefer his own fingers (much slimmer than Peter’s) at first, but right now he’s turned on enough that the slight burn of the stretch feels perfect. Elias lies on the pillows and lets Peter work his magic.

Peter kneels between his legs and fingers him as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, curling up his fingers to milk Elias’s cock. Elias arches his back and watches dollop after dollop of pre-cum leak from his tip.

“Peter, I swear- to God… If you make me come like this-”

Whatever Elias had thought of saying is completely wiped from his mind when Peter leans down and gives his cockhead a gentle suck, as easy as someone scooping some ice-cream with their tongue.

Elias swears at Peter, but he can’t do much else besides clench his hands and teeth and try to keep from coming. He was so close just now; only a brief touch of Peter’s tongue and his cock is now throbbing, legs shaking so hard he has to suck in his stomach to not orgasm right then and there.

“It would be a sight to behold. You are a sight to behold.”

“Cut the crap, please cut the crap and just fuck me. Fuck, I’m so hard it hurts, you bastard.”

“Then come, love.”

“I don’t wanna come without you inside me.”

Elias should be embarrassed to find that his eyes are glistening with moisture. These can’t be tears. He refuses to believe that he’s crying during sex.

Peter wipes the corner of his eye, boops Elias’s nose with his own and gives him a gentle peck.

“Okay,” Peter whispers.

Peter rolls condoms on himself and Elias, then arranges a pillow under Elias to prop him up and slides home. The size of him fills Elias up so good, so perfect — all the way down to those wiry silver curls. Sure, topping Peter also felt brilliant — but if he’s true to himself, Elias rather likes it up the arse.

They fall into a nice rhythm — whispering disconnected praises and curses. Elias keeps a hand on the headboard for leverage, rolling his hips to meet Peter’s own, re-learning where it feels good. He reminds himself that this is supposed to be quick, just a bit of rough friction before they can’t hold it anymore.

But feeling Peter’s hand clutching his waist, relishing in the delicious push and pull, seeing Peter’s fuzzy pecs flex with the easy effort of taking him — it all has Elias clenching around Peter’s cock and reaching out to trace the lines of his chest.

“Fuck, I should be telling you to go faster.”

“Do you want to go faster?”

“No… I want to keep taking your cock until sunrise.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to stop at some point for rest, but if you’re up to it, I’m all yours.”

Elias smiles, but his eyebrows twitch when Peter finds that spot and fucks into him, pressing right up against it.

“You see I want that, but when you do this… I want you to leave me all sore.”

“You’re a man of many wishes.”

Elias grins. “Think you can answer them?”

Peter pats his leg. “On your hands and knees, then.”

Arse up in the air, Elias stifles a laugh when Peter squirts more lube onto his hole and drags his cock over it.

Peter pushes back in with a smile. “What is it?”

“Just remembered something. When we first-” Elias hisses when Peter spreads his legs further and angles his thrusts just right. “Yeah, right there. Fuck… When we first had sex. I couldn’t believe you were just bringing people to your room and never doing this to them.”

Peter holds his hips like his hands belong there, finally giving it to him hard and fast. Elias has to clutch the sheets, but damn, that’s more like it. The t-shirt has balled up near his face and he keeps breathing in Peter’s scent.

“Uh- yeah. Hah, that was a long time ago. Is this OK, love?”

Elias nods. “Yeah. Bit rougher would be even nicer though.”

Peter grunts and his hands slide upwards. “Don’t want to hurt you, but if you say you can take it...”

Elias’s waist used to be so lean that Peter’s fingertips almost touched circling around it. Now that Elias is a bit better padded, they grab his flesh with a bit of loving violence while Peter ruts into him. Elias prays that this million pound house has thick enough walls that the noise of skin on skin won’t bleed out.

Elias wraps a loose hand around his cock, but that mere touch is enough to bring him closer to the edge. The fact that he feels so wonderfully used for Peter’s pleasure also does things to his head, because every grunt of Peter’s feels like a small victory.

Peter continues, fondly. “You used to be so fucking shameless. I’m still sad you had to remove the nip piercings.”

“It was easier- Oh, oh! Yes, just like that!” Elias presses his face into the bed, panting open-mouthed against the mattress. “It was easier- Easier,” he tries to continue, but Peter is fucking him so good that he can’t complete his line of thought.

“...that way?” Peter supplies.

Elias nods. He feels half out of it already. “I think- Gonna come. S-so good...”

Peter’s approving hum is followed by him dropping part of his weight onto Elias’s back, which forces Elias flat into the mattress. Elias gasps, loud and breathless and more in love with Peter than ever before. His husband knows that he’s a sucker for a bit of choking and is giving him exactly what he needs.

Peter thrusts harder, deeper, and it only takes a moment of Elias to come — the pressure and the friction too good to resist. Peter has to wrap a hand over his mouth to quieten his moaning. Elias shudders with the aftershocks, Peter’s still moving inside him almost too much to bear.

“God, you squeeze me so good every time,” Peter breathes into his nape. “I’ve missed this.”

Elias can’t breathe; tears gather freely on the corners of his eyes, but Peter doesn’t get off until he comes, too — it feels like orgasm drags on forever in an agonised bliss.

Elias shivers when Peter pulls out. It always gets a bit dry towards the end, but the burn and the stretch leave Elias tingly and sated — and now, completely boneless.

Peter eases him onto his side and removes the now damp t-shirt, chucking it aside; he then ties off both their condoms. The one that Elias has been wearing has almost slipped off; his flaccid cock now covered in spunk. Peter kneels between his legs and takes him into his mouth, causing Elias to seize with oversensitivity and nearly pull off chunks of Peter’s hair.

Peter pulls off of him with a wet pop, looking like the cat that got the cream. Elias sags and drapes an arm over his head, damp chest going up and down.

“Feeling better?” Peter asks. He caresses Elias’s thighs gently, barely even there. It makes pleasant goosebumps rise on Elias’s skin.

“God, you’ve ruined me…” Elias croaks. “You’ve fucked my brains out, Mr. Lukas.”

Peter chuckles. “Good.” He kisses Elias’s knee, his belly, his chest. Elias buries his fingers into his hair. “Gonna get something to clean you up.”

“Wait, just. Just stay like this for a bit.”

“Feeling like some post-coital cuddling, Mr. Bouchard?”

“Ugh,” Elias untangles his fingers from his perfect silver hair. “Now you’ve ruined it. Just go.”

Peter gives a rumbling chuckle that resounds through Elias’s chest. “No, thinking about it, I rather like it here. I get to see all your freckles.”

“Hm. Have you finally managed to count how many of them there are?”

“Nope,” Peter kisses his stomach, over the Eye tattoo. “But I’m still on it!”

Elias yawns. “Good- Good luck.”

“Gee, I really ought to get something to clean you up. At this rate you’ll end up sleeping.”

Elias snorts with his eyes closed. “Already am.”

Peter kisses his nose and leaves him be. When Elias wakes up the next day, he notices three things: one, Peter actually did give him a wipe down; two, he is very much aware of all the sleep he didn’t get last night; and three, he’s got an easy smile on for the rest of the day that he can’t deny.

#my fic #nanda's ramblings #lonelyeyes #lonelyeyes fic #lonelyeyes fanfiction #peter lukas #elias bouchard #martin blackwood #tim stoker #gertrude robinson #jurgen leitner #tma fic #tma fanfiction #do not archive #peterelias

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yeojaa · 4 years

Note

wait !!!! find her jk with that prompt the other anon sent!!! can u plssss that’s literally something find her jk would actually do🥺🥺🥺🥺

[ read finders keep hers ]

pairing. jjk x (named) f!reader. rating. general. tags. idiots in love. like, that’s all there is to say. angst central, my dude. wc. 2.4k. author note. i meant to make this short and end with some tender lovemaking but... i cannot be trusted near a keyboard so you get this word vomit instead. xoxo!

You love Jeon Jungkook. Have, you think, since before you knew what the word love meant.

(Maybe since you were children and you’d still stood a chance against him, bursting with pride from a job well done, young enough that your parents’ kind words felt better than anything in the world. Before he’d turned into the president of the Casanova Club and he’d just been your and your brother’s best friend. Little Jeon with the unbelievably big eyes, always so curious about everything.

Or maybe since your tenth grade White Day, when he’d bought you your favourite candies and pressed them unceremoniously into your hands, too many to hold so they fall to dirt and tumble around you. He’d stooped to snatch them all up, shoving them into the pockets of your coat. “Because we’re best friends or whatever,” he’d said with this toothy, silly smile.

More likely during university. That time you’d maybe (read: very) foolishly made out, liquor fueling the tangle of your limbs and how utterly good he felt within them, a nectarine dream in his brand new G Wagon. You’d thought he’d laugh in your face, mumble something about no, we can’t - which he had - but he’d also taken you home, tucked you in and climbed in beside your inebriated self.

Definitely once you’d started seeing each other, spending more time in his bed than anywhere else. It’d been nearly impossible to separate head from heart, falling deeper and deeper into the Jungkook-shaped black hole that seemed to eclipse everything else. You’d fallen head over stupid heels, leaving bits of yourself hidden among his things. Your lip balm in his trouser pocket, perfume on the collar of his favourite turtleneck, shape of your mouth alongside monogrammed initials.

You hadn’t meant to.

Love him, that is. It’d simply happened in between all the laughter, the eye rolls, the smiles. Threaded between each action and cemented by the thud of your heart, beat into the ground like a drum.)

Sometimes, though, you don’t like him. Oftentimes, in fact.

You and Jungkook are as different as can be.

You’re in business development at a tech firm; he’s the technically unemployed son of a real estate mogul. You invest most of your money; he spends his as if it’ll never run out (which it likely won’t). You grew up with an older brother; he’s got two younger sisters. You drink to celebrate, to wind down; he drinks to prove a point. You believe in love - have to, looking at your parents and feeling how you do about him; he knows it exists but up until recently, had zero interest in it.

You wonder still, seated at the table with your group of friends and their partners, whether that still rings true. (Deep down, you know it doesn’t. You know he loves you, wants you in a way he’s never wanted anyone else before, but your brain is a fickle thing, playing tricks when it shouldn’t.)

Would he be happier without you? Better off without you?

Your thoughts mock you - just as he does, roguish smile turning his entire expression into sunshine. Inescapable, all-encompassing, so blinding it’s almost hard to look at. Trained on the girl he’s chatting up at the bar.

This is what Jungkook does. What he’s always done. You should be used to it, really. The man’s charm is always turned up to eleven, always in full effect even when he doesn’t mean it to be. It’s simply part of who he is- young and rich and devastatingly, heartbreakingly handsome.

Still, you can’t help the emotion that swells somewhere deep in your stomach, jostles the meal you’ve just had and turns your insides into a sea of nausea. You know when he’s just being friendly and you know when he’s flirting. It’s a terribly thin line but one you recognise, intimately familiar with the two sides of his personality.

Right now, he’s flirting. Doing that thing he does, one arm folded on the counter top, unblemished hand resting somewhere along his hip, silver of his rings acting as a beacon beneath the dim restaurant lights. His other hand slots itself into the pocket of his coated jeans, tattoos thrown into stark contrast against his skin and the black of the denim. There’s that smile of his, more a smirk but sunny, radiant, beautiful. It lights up his entire face, steeping his expression in something warm. The dimple in his cheek winks with each laugh - you can only imagine the one on the other side does the same, cut deeply into his skin.

Don’t be mad, you tell yourself. He’s your Jungkook, bad habits and all.

You love him. You love him. You love him.

If he notices your stoicism, he doesn’t comment on it. Doesn’t ask what’s wrong or if you’re okay or what’s up. Barely even speaks to you, save to toss his arm around your shoulder and tug you close, practically tug you into his lap while his friends share stories of their week.

It’s your usual Friday night dinner. Something you’ve done with this ragtag group for as long as you’ve known them. An excuse to go out and drink and eat some damn good (and often free) food.

You wish you could enjoy it like you normally do. Instead, you’re preoccupied by the way a perfume that isn’t yours lingers on his collar - seeps beneath the fabric and marks him up like a possession. It’s too sweet - cloying sugar apples and coconut - nothing like your usual earthy wisteria and dewy rose. It stings your nose when you inhale too deeply, nestled into the familiar shape of Jungkook’s frame, settled between the vertebrae you know best.

You hardly notice when he does speak to you, rousing you from thought you can’t quite place any longer.

“Ready to head home?”

The rest of your friends are going about their business, slipping their coats on and exchanging ideas for plans the following morning. (Saturday brunch is a very popular thing, though it tends to lean late lunch versus true breakfast-brunch.)

You nod and slip from beneath your lover’s arm, plucking your purse up as you rise. You’re ready to get out of here, ready to scrub away the melancholy that lingers like a thin film across your skin.

He must have realised sometime between your silence in the car and your lacklustre kisses in the elevator. You think he must, as he nearly slams the front door of his penthouse shut, kicks off his Chelsea boots and lets them tumble together just off the welcome mat. (Not the reaction you’d expected, but you’ve learnt to never expect anything from him. As much as he might be your best friend, Jeon Jungkook plays by his own set of rules.)

He doesn’t wait for you to undo your own shoes, carefully undoing the straps of your Jimmy Choos and setting them where they belong before you follow the sound of his footsteps.

When you find him, he’s stripping off his jacket and tossing it haphazardly across the back of his desk chair, keys and wallet and phone dropped none-too-gently upon wood. He says nothing even as he crosses to his closet, steps inside and slips off each piece of jewellery: assorted rings and his Rolex - everything but the bracelet you’d gotten him for graduation.

His belt goes next, set back within the confines of its velvet lined drawer. Through the hole goes the button of his jeans, down goes the zipper, and then he’s in nothing but his vaguely sheer dress shirt, boxer-briefs, and silly printed socks (yellow bananas on black fabric, for reasons), looking every inch the adonis he is.

You still haven’t said a word, carefully hanging your dress in the small space you’ve carved out for yourself. You don’t really know what to say - how to approach his apparent frustration when you don’t know where it comes from.

Is he upset with you? Had you, somewhere along the line of your own sadness, done something to upset him?

You’re running through all the scenarios, lost in thought, when his voice breaks the quiet. Snaps forth and hits its mark - a perfect shot. “Seriously?” There’s a fickle quality to his tone, a pettiness that you recognise when he hasn’t gotten his way, when he’s not quite sure what to say but knows he wants to have something. (It doesn’t come out often with you, but you’re intimately familiar with it still. His I-want-to-fight voice.)

“Pardon?” You’re not expecting him so close, close enough to reach you but far enough that you can tell he’s purposely put this distance between you. It feels strange - further apart than it is.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. When you speak, it’s full of confusion, paired with your brows gathering in a little knot of bewilderment. “Anything about what?”

“What happened at dinner.”

He sounds so utterly deadpan, you can’t help but laugh, a sound of disbelief rather than amusement.

“You mean you flirting with that girl?” Even saying the words feels awful, makes you want to crawl into bed and forget about it all.

Jungkook, on the other hand, looks like you’ve just handed him the answers to all of life’s questions. His entire face rearranges, all the pieces matching back up to form a proper puzzle. There’s a certain smugness to it now, caught in the round of his cheek and how it ticks higher with his grin. “So you did notice! I fucking knew it.”

“Of course I did.” You want to be appalled. Know you should be. (But it’s Jungkook and you love him.) “Kind of hard not to.”

He’s the devil in disguise, snapping you to him with a flex of his arms, hands curled around your waist. It’s clear he’s pleased, absolutely tickled pink that you’d fallen for his silly little trick. “Gotta keep you on your toes,” he croons, eyes twinkling, mouth wobbling with the strain of keeping his laughter hidden.

He expects you to agree - maybe roll your eyes and pat his cheek, laughs along with him and give him some sort of shit about how he’s an idiot - and visibly starts when you push yourself away, two palms flat against his chest.

“Sure.”

One word. Nothing like he’d imagined.

“Baby?” You’ve made it two steps - two whole steps, which is two too many to Jungkook - when he’s pulling you back, trapping you against his chest with his arms looped around your shoulders. “Where you going?” He’s kissing along your shoulder, trailing warmth everywhere he touches.

He still smells like that girl’s perfume.

“Can you get off me, please?” You’re more polite than you normally are, working hard to keep calm when he only tightens his grip. Of course he thinks you’re kidding, thinks you’re pouting and playing just like he had when you’d returned home.

When you repeat yourself - a little harder, a little quieter - he seems to realise how wrong he’s read the situation.

“Angel—” You’re swept around, left to stare into the neat white of his shirt as he peers down at you, waits for you to meet his eyes. You don’t, staunchly focused on the buttons of his Oxford, how they strain over his broad chest. “Baby.” Now he’s the one full of reprimand, disapproval colouring the single word that’s normally so sweet.

“What?” It’s just as bratty as he was earlier but somehow worse, touched blue.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook seems genuinely perplexed, concerned and maybe, just a tiny bit frustrated. He’s not used to you lashing out like this, soft and yet unyielding, hidden behind a door he’s fumbling with the keys to.

“You.”

“—me?”

You’re not one to throw out things you don’t mean, carefully picking and choosing your words. It’s something you’ve always done - far more responsible than your idiot best friend who’s never had to worry about a thing in his life.

The line of his mouth dips, pulls into a frown as he studies you and tries to crack open the windows to gain some insight. It doesn’t work well; he’s faced with a stone wall.

“Why’re you mad?”

You want to laugh. Do, actually, so short and abrupt it’s more of a scoff. “What’s wrong with me?” You’d pull away if you could. (Realistically, you could, but you’ve always been too soft for him.) “You spent almost all of dinner flirting with someone else.”

“Yeah— to make you jealous.” As if that makes it better. As if that doesn’t tear a giant hole right in the centre of your chest, launches your poor heart out of the airlock to fend for itself in the emptiness of his expression.

You don’t know why it feels worse to hear it out loud. You’d figured as much.

(Jungkook had done this in the past, though always jokingly. He’d rarely been invested enough in a girl to go to such lengths but you’d seen it once or twice. Always the age old adage of wanting what you can’t have.)

You wish you could separate the then from the now. Remind yourself that he does care, that this is his twisted, stupid way of showing his affection - of keeping you around. (You know he’s just as vulnerable as you - maybe more, sometimes - but he shows it poorly. Pushes you away when he tries to pull you in.)

Tears are welling, spilling across your lashes faster than you can yank them back. Something about being an angry crier.

“Good job,” you mean to snap, to make him feel how you do. (Small - so very, very small.) Instead, it’s terribly quiet. A whisper that gets lost to the cotton poplin. “Now I’m jealous.” And miserable and insecure. All things you usually aren’t, that only Jeon Jungkook manages to bring out in you.

“Baby,” he tries again, crushing you to his chest, jut of his chin resting atop your head. His hugs had always been your favourite - swallowing you whole, making you feel safe - but it’s too much now, a prison cell rather than your familiar bed. “I’m sorry.” He’s kissing again, stamping his affection into the dark of your hair, brushing over and over with the soft of his lips, his rounded adorable nose, “I thought—”

You know what he thought. Know where he’d been coming from (a place of immaturity, a gilded golden room with Jeon Jungkook stamped across the door) but it doesn’t make it any better.

Doesn’t make it hurt any less.

#anon.eml #bts #bts au #bts imagine #bts drabble #bts angst #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #incoming.eml #work.zip #drabble.zip #finders.doc #jungkook.doc

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pinkja · 4 years

Text

Shy (Ellie Williams x Female Reader)

Request:

elliexreader fic where reader has had a crush on ellie for the longest time and is rlly shy around her but eventually they become friends and its just a lot of pining HEHE u can decide where this will go but 💔 i just want shy and in love with ellie reader maybe also a little envious of dina reader thank you mwah

Tw cursing

—

Oh god, why did Ellie have to be so damn cute? Those green eyes practically put you in a trance every time you made eye contact. Her red hair looked so soft and god you wanted to run your hand through it. The scar on her eyebrow made her look like such a badass and oh! Her tattoo, her fucking tattoo made you swoon.

To say you had a crush on the girl was kind of an understatement. It started ever since she had came to Jackson and it showed no sign of going away any time soon. It wasn’t like the crush was any type of problem to you, except for when it came to looking at Ellie and talking to Ellie, hell even standing near her.

You don’t think that anyone thought you had a crush on Ellie, just chalking your behavior up to you being your usual shy self. And while you thought that was the case at first, at least you could actually talk to other people, but when it came to Ellie you could barely squeak out a hi, before your nerves took over. It had gotten to the point where you had just started to avoid her. And now that you’re thinking about it, you felt that you were being quite rude.

You groaned, rubbing at the sides of your head.

Oh no, did Ellie think you hated her?

“No! Get yourself together, (y/n)! You have patrol in,” you looked at your alarm clock, “thirty minutes. You can do this!”

Maybe this patrol would be good for you. You could get out of Jackson and smell some fresh, summer air, and you could get your mind off of El–

No! You won’t even think her name. You would not let she-who-shall-not-be-named distract you from doing your job!

“Ok! You gotta get up, brush your teeth, and get ready for patrol dumb dumb!” You coaxed yourself. You rolled out of bed, a bad idea since you ended up hitting your shoulder on the dresser, but it’s fine! It gave you another distraction so you wouldn’t think of she-who-shall-not-be-named.

With a huff and a complaint of your not-so-bruised shoulder, you got up off the floor and walked to the bathroom to get ready. Once you had brushed your teeth and changed out of your nightclothes, you grabbed your bag and rifle from the door and left to the gates.

“Sucks that I don’t have much time to eat.” You started as the gates appeared in view. “Hopefully I don’t end up dragging my partner down with me, whoever they are.” You kept forgetting to ask Maria who your new partner was, but hopefully they weren’t too awful. I mean it couldn’t be that bad as long as it wasn’t–

You stopped in your tracks. Eyes wide, mouth agape. That voice, holy shit that voice sounded so familiar. But it can’t be who you thought it was, right?

“Please don’t be her, please don’t be her. Please, please, please.” You slowly started walking again, almost dragging your feet to avoid confirming your suspicion. When you had gotten close enough to see whoever was at the gate, you let out a small curse. It was Ellie and oh my goodness she looked so pretty today and FUCK you are doing it again.

Ok maybe if you turned around right now you can escape. Maybe you can fake an injury. Would that make you a horrible person? Were you really ready to go so far as hitting yourself in the knee to get out of seeing El–, I mean she-who-shall-not-be-named?

Oh god what were you thinking? You can’t just leave her alone. Who knows what she’ll run into out there and you’d feel so awful if she got hurt.

Ellie stood there looking relaxed for once. She was in a tank top and jeans and oh god was she laughing. It sounded so beautiful to you. She was leaning against the gate and her backpack was swinging in her hand. Next to her was Dina, who had her head cocked to the side, telling something to Ellie while making wild hand gestures.

You got along with Dina well. You thought she was pretty and she pushed you a lot to get out of your bubble. You don’t know why, but seeing her talk to your crush and make her laugh was…what was this feeling? Were you…jealous?

No, couldn’t be. All you wanted was to make Ellie smile like Dina did. And laugh like Dina did and you wished you could talk to her like Dina did.

Ok yeah, you may be jealous.

As you walked a bit closer, you could pick up on a bit of their conversation.

“Are you ever going to tell me who my new partner is? I’m kinda getting impatient.” Ellie started, looking up at the sky.

“Hmm. Nope.” Dina said cheekily.

“Then can you at least tell me why you requested a partner change? It was kind of sudden.”

Dina turned towards your direction and her eyes widened.

“Oh god, does she see me? Please don’t tell me she sees me!” You whispered to yourself.

“(Y/n), hi!” Oh fuck.

You waved shyly and held your head down a bit. When you finally got to them you gave Dina a hug and waved at she-who-still-shall-not-be-named.

“Hi, Dina. H-Hi, El…Ellie.” Fuck, you couldn’t even say her name right. “Are you guys going on patrol?” God dammit that was a stupid question. You heard that Ellie was getting a new partner so why in the hell would you ask that?

Well, maybe there was a chance that Ellie’s partner just didn’t come yet.

“Actually…” Dina moved behind you and placed her hands on your shoulders. “You and Ellie are going to be partners for today.” Wait what?

“D-Dina, huh?” You started to panic.

“Yeah, you see. I’ve actually comes down with something.” She started to fake cough as she pushed you towards Ellie. “And besides, it’ll help with your little problem.” She whispered in your ear. Your face turned red as a result. Dina stopped pushing you and quickly sped away. “Buh-bye you two! Have fun!”

Please don’t leave me here, Dina.

“What happened to your cold?” Ellie yelled back at her. Dina started to fake cough again. Once she was out of sight, you two stood in silence. Ellie tapped you on your shoulder. You jumped up with a squeak. You turned to her, your body stiff and face red hot. “Should we go?” Ellie offered, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Her hair was down and it was flowing in the wind. You could do nothing but nod as the gate opened. You kept silent as you started to walk foward. You walked a ways ahead before Ellis spoke again. “I think all we have to do is check for Infected and grab some supplies. Sound good?” You could only hum and nod.

Goddamit were you being rude again?

You peeked at Ellie, who was staring ahead, hopefully, oblivious to your turmoil. You wondered if she was angry at you. Could she be?

You two arrived at a tower and started climbing up the ladder. Ellie let you go first, and you could feel her eyes on you as you climbed.

Ellie let out a small whoo when she made it to the top, causing you to smile, but quickly turned away to hide it.

“You’re pretty good with a rifle, right?” The breaking of silence caused you to jump. You nodded meekly. How the hell did she know that about you? “Dina told me.” Ah that’s how. “You think you can handle this one? I haven’t been the best at shooting from afar.” Ellie rubbed the back of her neck.

You agreed, taking the rifle from behind your back. You aimed, looking through the scope to spot Infected. You found a few Runners and Clickers and shot them down in a few seconds. When you turned around, Ellie was leaning against the wall, staring at you. It caused you to blush and fidget under her stare. She then smiled at you. It startled you and you tried to smile back. You hoped it didn’t look weird.

“Good job!” Your heart fluttered at the compliment.

“Th-Thank you, El…” God you still couldn’t say her name right.

“El…I like that. It’s cute.” Oh god you are going to explode. You were snapped out of your thoughts as the loud growl of your stomach made your hunger known to the world.

Fuck, as if you couldn’t embarrass yourself more.

Ellie laughed. Oh my god, she laughed.

“Hungry?” Her voice held amusement.

“Mmhm. I didn’t get to eat this morning…” Was that just a full sentence? Did you just say a full sentence to Ellie Williams?

Ellie reached into her backpack and pulled out two burritos.

“I didn’t eat breakfast either. Guess great mind think alike, huh?” She handed you the burrito and kept her fingers over yours just a little bit longer.

“Th-Thanks.” You had managed to stutter out.

You sat next to her on the floor and ate together in silence.

Your eyes wandered towards Ellie’s right arm, where her tattoo was. You averted your eyes quickly.

I will not look. I will not look. I will not lo– You looked anyways.

Damn, you were memorized by it and boy oh boy did it only make you fall harder.

Ellie crumpled up the wrapper and tried to throw it in the bin in the corner. It bounced off the edge and Ellie cursed. “Boo.” She pouted like a child. “(Y/n), give me yours.” She ordered. You complied, chewing the last of your burrito to satisfy her needs. She tried again and made it this time. “Yes! I made it!” She turned back to you, a wide smile on her face. “Thanks! You’re my good luck charm!” She smirked at you and went to pick up her discarded wrapper to throw it away.

Good luck charm? Did she just call you her good luck charm? Your heart was soaring, oh god would you even have one after this? Dina must be enjoying this. Curse her and that stupid fake cough of hers.

“I, uh…” You struggled to form words.

“Let me write this down really quick.” She took out her journal. You were embarrassed to admit that you wanted to look in it sometime. “How many Infected were there?” She asked you.

“Three Runners and two Clickers.” You answered dutifully.

“Ok! That’s it for this tower. Let’s head to the next one.” Ellie walked over to the ladder. “After you.” You climbed down the ladder and waited for Ellie to come down with you. You two continued to walk in silence.

“(Y/n), can I ask you a question?” Ellie asked you. You said yes, hoping you can form a full sentence to answer her. “Do you hate me?” Oh my god she did think that you hated her. You felt like such a jerk.

“No! No, no I could never h-hate you, El…Ellie.” Quite the opposite, in fact.

Goddammit why didn’t you say that?

“Then why do you avoid me? You don’t even like to look at me.” Was Ellie…sad? No she must be angry at you. Oh that’s the last thing you would want.

“I-It’s because I…I um…fuck. I’m not really good with words…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I’m just…shy. I-I’m sorry if I made you feel that I hated you I…I just think that you’re so pretty and I didn’t know how to deal with that so I avoided you.” You were rambling. God you were rambling and Ellie probably thought you were a freak. “I-I should stop talking now…” You looked away from Ellie and looked down at your feet.

Ellie stopped walking and grabbed your hand to prevent you from moving without her.

“(Y/n), listen. You don’t have to be ashamed of your feelings. I…you could talk to me.” Her voice was soft and her thumb rubbed circles on your hand. You continued to look down. Ellie lifted your chin to look you in your eyes. “I swear, I only wanna be closer to you. I hope you understand that.” She brought you closer. “Do you?”

“Mmhm.” Was all you could say. Ellie liked your answer.

“We’ll figure things out, ok? I won’t push you.” You smiled at her, grateful for her patience. “Come on, we still have three more towers to go to.” Ellie led you foward with determination. She never let go of your hand.

You would have to thank Dina when you got back.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #dina the last of us #dina tlou #the last of us part ii #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part two #fluff #gay panic #the reader is the definition of gay panic #tw cursing

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olivia200312 · 3 years

Text

Teaser!~ Bay! Optimus x Human! Reader

Requested by the lovely @AngelRosePhoenix

Plot: I was thinking of Bayverse AOE that is Cade's 20 yr old cousin which is the same age as Shane. So while they're in the Old Church hiding, Tessa was checking on her phone on YouTube when suddenly she saw Y/N modeling on Victoria's Secret. It was all about her in Victoria's Secret every outfit and catwalk. The music is playing' Roses Imanbek by Saint Jhn". Y/N tries to stop Tessa when the bots were curious too. When she showed it, Bee used a bigger screen and everyone was whistling and making kinky talk to her. She is so flustered while Prime has a horny thing on his mind. So the Prime teased her in a kinky way which others were shocked. Then Cade said, "Yeah, I'd be happy for u that she'll be your girlfriend. She really needs it." Then Tessa complained about Y/N's allowed and not her. But Cade told his daughter that she isn't at Y/N's age. Then Y/N complained and yelled when she heard Optimus say, "Well, I don't mind at all being with her." And he smirked which made her blush furiously and then there goes to the lemon >:D.

This is a lemon! I literally sometimes don't understand some requests that I get that I have to fix it every time so that the readers can understand what's going on. I recommend you all to use Grammarly. It's free and it helps you when you're typing on your computer. I've been using it for months now and it helps a lot when I'm writing chapters or one-shots here. This takes place in the church of Tf4 AOE!

Head area:

Brain: Processor / Brain Module

Head: Helm

Face: Face plate

Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials

Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor

Eye brow: Optical Ridge

Eyes: Optics

Mouth: Intake

Lips: Dermas

Teeth: Denta/Dentas

Tongue: Glossa

Chest area:

Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity

Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula

Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour:

Chest plate

Back plate

Mid-section plating

Neck guard

Side plating

Arm area:

Arms: Arms / Restarlueus

Forearms: Bitarlueus

Hands: Servos

Fingers: Digits

Arm armour:

Gantlets

Shoulder pads

Arm guard

Lower area:

Pelvis: Pelvis

Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate

Thighs: Tibulen

Calves: Cadulen

Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour:

Skirt plates

Aft plate / Skid plate

Thigh guard

Ankle guard

General/Internal components:

Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question.

Veins: Fual lines

Stomach: Tanks

Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating.

Heart: Spark

Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark

T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

Note: the art goes to the owner!

--------------------------------

Oh man, the day is just crazy! Apparently, Cade brought an old truck to his place together with Lucas. Cade Yeager is a single father of Tessa Yeager. His wife sadly passed away when Tessa was young and since then Cade took care of his daughter. He became overprotective and even made a rule to not bring any boys to the house! He meant it to his daughter of course. There was a woman named Y/N L/N. She's 20 years old. She's a mechanic and helps her cousin, Cade, a lot. Yes, Y/N is 3 years older than Tessa. She loves the girl a lot but she also knows her secret: Tessa has a boyfriend named Shane. He's 20 years old as well. Now, Cade didn't know it at first until... random shit happened. The truck is a Transformer named Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots. He's being hunted by KSI and that's why he's hiding. He got separated from his team and Ratchet got sadly killed... Sam Witwicky, along with his girlfriend, mysteriously disappeared.

The old truck transformed inside Cade's barn and man, he's mad! He obviously had his reasons to be mad. Y/N and Cade manage to calm him down. While they both started to fix him, the Prime fell his optics on the 20-year-old mechanic girl. She's just so beautiful...

Anyway, the story continued and Lucas got killed sadly. Everyone was sad that they lost a friend. The adventure continued and yadda, yadda, yadda. Let's get to the point of view now. The church. (I couldn't find a video where the church part scene played).

Everyone is now at the church, hiding. It was safe at least! Optimus and Cade are chatting while others are doing their stuff. Tessa is on her phone, checking random stuff out. It made Y/N very nervous. She has a secret and she didn't want others to find out. She made a video once where she dressed in every Victoria's Secret outfit. She even catwalked in her video for Primus's sake! She thought that no one would ever find out... She's wrong.

Tessa scrolled through her phone until she came across a video on YouTube made by Y/N. She watched it quietly until she smirked. "Oh, Y/N!~"

Y/N looks at Tessa and she got nervous when she saw the look on Tessa's face. "W-What is it?"

"You never told me how well can you catwalk while being in Victoria's Secret outfits."~

That caught Cade's attention as he stopped talking to Optimus and looks shocked at Y/N. "Y/N, you did what?!"

"I-It's not what it looks like!" She waved her hands in defense.

Tessa then showed it to Bumblebee or just Bee, the youngest one of the group and a scout. He showed it to the big screen, causing Y/N to yell "No!" and hide her face in her hands. She just wanted to disappear...

Other bots whistled while Cade looks shocked. Tessa still smirked. Shane then entered the church. "Hey, what's going- Oh God..." He looks shocked. Optimus Prime, on the other hand, has dirty minds in his processor. It's just that... that Victoria's Secret's outfits and catwalks... He just wants to take her now.

Cade seems to notice it. He got told by Optimus that he has a crush on her. He smirked in secret.

Optimus then decided to shock others and make Y/N more flustered. He watched how Y/N slowly showed her face and then the Prime, literally... teased her in a kinky way! No kidding! He did it! Y/N looks more flustered while others looked shocked.

Cade then looks up at the leader. "You know, I'd be happy for u that she'll be your girlfriend. She really needs it."

Tessa then complained. "Really, daddy? Why is she allowed to have a boyfriend and not me?" She looks also annoyed.

"You're not just at her age, sweetie," Cade answered calmly.

"Cade!" Y/N shouted embarrassed.

What Optimus suddenly said made Y/N faint. "Well, I don't mind at all being with her." She then made eye contact with him and saw him smirking. She then fainted.

At night~

The night arrived and everyone went to sleep. Well, almost everyone. The Autobots made sure to watch over and that the humans are comfortable to sleep. Y/N stayed awake and just couldn't sleep. She's now watching the night sky. There's an abandoned train close by and that's where humans slept. More surprisingly, it had comfortable chairs.

"You need to get some recharge, Y/N," said a familiar deep voice.

Y/N gasps and turned around to see Optimus but around her height. Looks like he made himself small. He then stood right behind her, pressing his tank and chassis area against her back. Y/N shivered from the contact. Let's just say that she's was getting turned on. It's just that it was getting sexual. Optimus then placed his servos on her hips and kissing her neck. "Do you really love me, sweetspark?"

"Y-Yes." She then gasped because of the air when her extremely loose blouse was pulled down, exposing her with Victoria Secret's sexy lace bra and panties. She heard Optimus growl. "You're so sexy that I want to take you."

Then Y/N's eyes were full of lust. She felt so wet that her pussy was throbbing, begging to be taken. She panted as heat builds up, making the Prime smirk. He then turned her around and his optics were full of lust when he saw her front body. He fo course finds her beautiful. He then smashed his dermas against t her soft lips. His servos traveled down right on her ass, squeezing it. Y/N moaned as she jumps and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"My spike wants to be inside of you ever since I discovered your dirty secret," Optimus growled.

"Take me.~"

He walks inside the train, where no one else was there. At least, they'll be 'busy' this night ;). He found a comfortable seat and laid Y/N down, while still kissing her. His glossa was fighting against her tongue while servos were rubbing her entire body, squeezing her breasts and her ass. Y/N moaned loudly and Optimus pulled away, causing them to pant.

"I'm taking you tonight."

Then Y/N decided to TAKE HIM instead of him her. She pinned him down, causing the Prime to look surprised when Y/N made him sit up with her straddling on his lap. He then purred and growled lowly, causing Y/N to smirk and grind on his lap. He placed his servos on her ass and pulled her panties down until they're at the ankles so they're not fully off. He used his digit to rub her clit and pump her, causing the female human to let out moans and arch her back. Optimus smashed his dermas against her lips as his free servo traveled up to her breasts. He simply pulled it up a bit until the breasts are out and squeezed them.

"O-Optimus.~"

Optimus purred as he continued for like thirty seconds before stopping, causing to growl in annoyance but then she smirked as she saw his big hard in the air. She lifted herself up and 'accidentally' slammed right into his spike, causing both the bot and human to moan loudly. Y/N hurtled herself a tiny bit but pleasure quickly took over and started to very sexually grinding, riding and dancing at the same time on Optimus' lap. The Prime watched in awe and grunted. He couldn't help but place his servos o her hips, feeling her moving.

"S-Sweetspark.~"

"You like that, Bossbot?" She's teasing him while still smirking and moving.

Optimus growled but doesn't care right now. His optics were watching Y/N's EVERY move. He felt like in heaven. He just loves the sexy human femme that was sitting on him, doing sexual moves while having sex on his lap.

"A-Ahh! Optimus, y-you're so big, hard, and handsome," Y/N panted while having a lovely and sexy expression on her face.

Optimus felt his spark beating fast while showing exactly the same expression. "You t-take my spike so well, sweetspark. I'd like to have a family with y-you in the future." He also grunted a few times.

Y/N giggles and kisses him with so passion that she and Optimus were both lost in so much love that Y/N didn't notice that Optimus started to thrust up roughly, slamming into her many times like dominant Autobot.

"A-Ah! Oh my G-God!" She panted and moaned while Optimus lowly purred and smirked. "I-I'm cumming!"

"Then cume for me, sweetspark. I'll fill you up so well.~" He whispered lowly into her ear, causing Y/N to squeak and blush bright red.

Optimus then grunted when he slammed one last time and released his transfluid. Y/N screamed so quietly that Optimus found it cute like from Japanese anime. Y/N panted and sighed in bliss. She was then gently lifted up so that Optimus' spike would come out. It was limp. Optimus then laid down with Y/N on top of him. He covered his mate up with a blanket and kissed her forehead. Both of them fell asleep.

youtube

#lemon #bayverse #optimus prime x reader #optimus prime #transformers #tf #transformers 4 #age of extinction #aoe #tf 4 aoe #human reader #reader

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bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

Text

Remember When / Hargreeves Imagine

Request: Love ur writing btw!! I have a Great idea for a Diego fic! Can u do his siblings somehow finding tapes/videos from the mental asylum Diego was in and seeing how badly he was tortured and abused. Then he has a panic attack or something at the end and they comfort him.

I-ugh anon omg - my heart <3

Warning, some strong language, and also some descriptions of abuse, so please don’t read if it will make you uncomfortable!

Comments and reblogs are so so so appreciated, as this took me honestly way to long XD! Thank you!!

‘Way to go. Real Team Zero back there.’

‘Diego, we’ve already been through this. Dad’s a stubborn prick, as he has been, all our sad lives, yada yada, we’re sorry, okay? We should have known he’d still be the same condescending asshole’, Klaus replies, waving his hands in the air as he climbs the stairs back up to Elliot’s apartment. Rubbing his left eye with his hello tattoo, he uses his right to try and fumble a blunt out of his pocket, clenching it between his teeth. As he feels Luther’s footsteps pound up the rest of the way and jog past him to the landing, he can’t quite seem to light it - his fingers are still trembling too hard from the pain of Ben stealing his body in the way he did.

Running up the stairs after him, Diego leaves behind the rest of his shell shocked siblings. Instead he focuses on tucking in the corners of his shirt back into his pants, trying to do anything to stop himself focusing on Reginald and the tears that still threaten to prick at the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t even notice when he walks head first into Klaus, until he has put a hand out and gripped onto his shoulder to stop them both from tumbling back down the stairs like bowling balls and straight into Allison.

‘You, brother, are an idiot. And a fat lot of help’, he smirks, sadly, gently slapping Klaus on his cheek.

‘Rude’, Klaus shrugs, winding his way towards the kitchen and kicking off his shoes in the process, looking for some Vodka to steal.

Allison hops quickly out of the way of the incoming shoes, used to his antics by now, and instead comes to settle next to where Vanya has plodded herself down on the sofa. Fiddling with her oversized jumper, a far away look on her face, Allison places a comforting hand on her bicep and gives her a sorrowful smile.

‘What do we do now?’, Vanya murmurs out as Luther squirms uncomfortably on one of Elliott’s wooden chairs. He ignores the beeping of the machines behind his head, instead swallowing thickly.

‘We, uh... wait for Five, I guess.’

‘No no no, right now, the most important thing we can do to try and change the world, is save JFK.’

‘Ughh we’ve been through this a million times! That’s not how it works Diego!’, Klaus calls from the kitchen, only a cloud of smoke trailing out from behind the wall and filling the room with both a stagnant smell of weed, and a light fog that seems to dampen the small amount of sunlight filtering through the askew blinds, which Elliott had been taking photos through earlier this morning.

‘Look, I get that you’re on some big crusade to prove something to dad, but this is not helpful right now.’

‘We all need to stick together and stop this thing’, Allison chimes in, desperation in her voice.

Luther’s interrupted from his continuing thoughts by a small squeak out of Vanya, following her eyes from where they are trained to a spot on the rug.

‘Oh my god... is that blood? Is someone bleeding?’

‘Holy shit.’

He gets up then, following the trail, beckoning his sisters to stay behind him with his hands until he reaches the dentistry chair at the edge of the landing, grimacing slightly as he turns to swivel it towards him with a squeak. He feels Klaus bump into one side of him, and Diego hit onto his other elbow, a rusty kitchen knife raised and ready, and a look of almost determination on his face, as if he had just been waiting for something awful to happen, just another chain of bad events so he knew his life was back onto its normal tracks.

‘Oh noooo’, Klaus groans, cupping his hands over his mouth as Elliott’s body turns to face them, a knife planted firmly in his eye.

Turning away from the tortured body of his friend, Diego swallows thickly, dropping his knife to the floor and placing an arm over his stomach. None of his siblings really notice, all of them looking over the dead body aghast, wondering, pained that they were the ones who caused something like this. None of them noticed the shake in his hand as he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the bile back down his throat again.

Klaus, however, did notice something. However, sadly for Diego, it was not the right thing - not the signs of shock, anxiety, or guilt that flashed over his brother’s face - the signs of PTSD he would have been the most adapt at noticing in the room. No, instead Klaus looked past poor Elliot’s head, towards a blinking static screen that kept flashing blue and black on a nearby desk, left abandoned underneath the shutter shots of the rest of them by Five.

‘Hello there, what might you be?’

Leaving the rest of them, he fumbled with the buttons on the old TV, trying to shake it out of his head how eerily familiar this seemed to dear old dad’s surveillance system. Hitting any button he can find in vain, he throws his blunt out of his mouth and flicks it across the room, slamming the control panel with the fist of his palm, until his pointer finger somehow managed to falter and hit play on the tape left inside.

Never before had Klaus noticed how much time is like water, that it can drip by in front of his eyes so slowly, or even freeze with each new frame. The past few minutes had passed by as if he had watched a thousand frames per second, too slow to be normal, so unusual. He turns to try and point to his siblings, but his jaw is still so slack and he finds he can’t move his fingers properly. Shock, that’s what they call it, shock, he thinks to himself, fighting to get his words out so they don’t trail out.

There is a sadness in his eyes, the glass green too glossy when he finally turns to his siblings and manages only to feebly point at the screen.

For the first time, since his mouth had been wired shut as a teenager, Klaus was at a loss of words.

This grabbed the attention of his siblings, who crowded over to join him and peer intently at the screen - all except foe Diego, who stayed hovering at the edge of the group.

The screen lights up again, showing an empty room, one without proper handles, only sheets of smooth metal as makeshift windows for staff to peer through. There’s no bed, no mattress on the cold floor, just emptiness, isolation, silence, for the man who sits in the centre of the floor in pure white. They recognise from the shaggy hair and the wild beard that it’s there brother almost immediately.

'You were in an Asylum? What for?’, Vanya asks.

‘For trying to save the President’, Diego manages to mutter, unable to look any of them in the eye. ‘For doing what needed to be done.’

He’s interrupted by himself, the small version of him on the tape muttering to himself, rocking back and forth. ‘I am not enough, I can’t do it, I’m not good enough. You’ll never be number one, never.’

The door swings open then. In his intense silence, Diego somehow screamed with his whole body. The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile as the doctor approached him with the needle.

‘Please! Not the needle!’, he begs and cries. ‘Please!’

Luther’s the first to turn round and look at his brother. The first to finally look, to finally see him, how defeated he looks, for the first time since they all landed in that alleyway. It's the look that he gives Diego. Those pale blue eyes, probing into his soul, desperately wanting to see what's going on in there. That look, it just tore Diego apart, piece by piece, and although it wasn’t his fault, he found himself deeply unsettled, deeply angry at him, at all of them, so suddenly.

‘W-w-what? What are you looking at a-a-ss-’

An invisible hand clasps over his mouth and stops his words from escaping, an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline piercing his heart, making it contort and expand until it feels just about ready to burst. His ribs heave uneasily, and Allison’s afraid he’s about to pass out, Klaus rushing forward, biting his lips. Diego only wants to run, but needs to freeze. All he can do, instead, is fall to his knees, and allow four pairs of hands to catch him before his face hits the floor.

A single tear slides down from his warm, butterscotch eyes, followed by another one, and another one, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed it's way down his cheek, releasing the sadness and sorrow that has been held inside of him for all this time but still he did not make a sound. His siblings made the noise for him, warm, comforting little nothings, telling him it was going to be okay, he didn’t have to go back, they were going to do it, save the world. Save themselves.

The hand appeared from nowhere and tightened on his wrist, white knuckled, strong, until Luther had pulled him against his chest, and the others had gently fallen to their knees too and placed their arms around his back as best as they could. Klaus was half leaning over Allison’s leg, and Vanya in turn was completely squished, face first, against his chest, but somehow they made it work.

There is the hug of gentle arms that still gives you the space to breathe, like the ones Grace used to give Diego after a mission. Shutting his eyes, he realises he isn’t used to this type, the kind of hug with strong arms that tells everything that your are - body, brain and soul - that they are with you.

They stay like that for a while, the five - well, the six of them, as Ben places his arms around his siblings as well, even if they can’t feel him. The six of them, battered, afraid, neglected, and yet, not alone. They huddle there together, embracing each other and crying and just allowing themselves to be open, to be vulnerable with each other, to realise their dad wasn’t there and they didn’t have to go through this alone anymore.

Tears were wiped and sobbing laughs were shared, and even Five, when he blipped back into the room, saw the set of his siblings hugging on the floor and felt a pang of loneliness and love for his crazy family ring out in his heart that he joined them, if only for a second.

From then they weren’t numbers anymore. They weren’t even siblings. They were more, Diego said with a smile. They were Team Zero.

#tua #tua season 2 #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua imagine #klaus hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves imagine #allison hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves imagine #luther hargreeves imagine #vanya hargreeves imagine

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mulletcal · 4 years

Text

memento mori - an ashton irwin one shot

a/n: hi friends!! i’m reposting this bc the first time i completely didn’t give the proper credit and i wanted to correct that! this whole thing was inspired by @sexgodashton‘s answer to this ask. and while i could have just edited the original post to include the credit, it wouldn’t have sat right with me personally to do that and just pretend like it was there the whole time. lau’s brain blows my mind every day w her creativity and she inspires me so much, thank you lau. thank you also to @myloverboyash for reading this over for me i appreciate u sm! word count: 2.5k

warnings: talks about needles, ashton being tattooed, smut, there’s riding, voyeurism (sort of? i don’t know rly but i wanna put the warning there just in case), ashton having a pain kink, light dom ash, spanking, i reused two things in these that i’ve used in the past but you know what??????? i kind of love it

****

Ashton’s felt the pain of a tattoo before; he kind of enjoyed the sting, the drag of the needle. Ashton also enjoyed pain, but he never noticed how erotic the pain of a tattoo could be, the intimacy of being so close to someone’s skin, until he began to date a tattoo artist.

You met Ashton when he came into your shop one day, on the hunt for his typical tattoo artist. He was nothing short of a gentleman, something you weren’t used to when men came into the shop that you owned; Men didn’t take kindly to women being the boss of men they saw as the epitome of masculine, let alone the owner, the ultimate boss if you will. You would never forget the way his eyebrows shot up when you said you were the owner, a small grin on his lips as he asked if he could get his tattoo from you instead.

That was for his snake tattoo, and he was so excited at how it turned out that you did his rose tattoo as well. Ashton kept coming back to you, insisting on the rest of the guys coming to get tattoos from you; it wasn’t until you finished touching up Michael’s finger tattoos did he ask you out.

“I appreciate the boost in clientele, but if you wanted to take me out you could’ve asked sooner,” You had replied, slipping him your card with the business phone number crossed out and your personal written above it.

After that, the two of you had talked nearly every day while he wasn’t on tour, and he often slept over, leaving you being taunted from your employees the next day due to marks on your skin.

It wasn’t until the lockdown did you truly see how wild Ashton could be; he had chosen to quarantine with you, the most responsible option you felt because you would have tried to find a loophole to see him anyways. Ashton encouraged you to try new things with him you never thought were possible, and you were surprised at how much you loved it.

You were shocked to realize that he enjoyed not just the pain of being tattooed, but he had a little bit of a pain kink in general. He tried to shy away from it at first, but when the two of you seemingly had run out of exciting news hobbies to learn, Ashton brought up the idea of watching porn together, to get a feel of what the other person liked. You wish you had felt safe enough to record his reaction when you put on a favourite video of yours, watching him take an invisible pencil from behind his ear and pretending to jot it down.

A few moments after that, with Ashton and you definitely quite in the middle of something, your phone went off, alerting you that you would be allowed to reopen with a set list of guidelines. You’d tried to get as many of your clients in before the shutdown as possible, so you didn’t have too many to reschedule when you got back.

You and the rest of your team had decided to operate on a weekly basis, your employees being allowed to have the shop for the week, with the rules of you setting up additional cameras so you could check in to ensure they were following sanitary guidelines, and all transactions were cashless unless absolutely necessary.

The reopen was going well so far, from what you could tell. Your week had finally rolled around, and you made sure that you left yourself a free day so that you could deep clean the shop; however, that didn’t exactly go according to plan as Ashton asked if you could tattoo him, stating how it had been so long since he’d gotten one and he missed it. Of course, you immediately agreed, pulling up the list of ideas you both had brainstormed throughout the course of the lockdown.

When he got there, you enthusiastically unlocked the door, greeting him with a kiss. You were excited to use him as your canvas, even though it would likely only be something small.

“You ready love?” You asked him, scrolling through the list before looking back up at him.

“Mhm, I’ve been thinking about the list and I’ve really wanted that coin of mortality piece you drew, would you do that one on me?” Ashton had placed his hands on your thighs, tracing his thumbs in small circles against them.

“Well that makes it a bit easier for me, since it’s already drawn, let me just pull it up. Where do you want it?”

You cocked your head, your eyes slowly scanning down his body, checking him out in a way, but also curious where he would say to put it.

“M’thinking on my ribs, yeah?” He pulled back, eagerly lifting his shirt to show his left side.

You nodded, reaching out to gently trace your finger over where you thought the tattoo should go, “Like here, maybe?”

Ashton shivered at your touch, simply nodding before letting his shirt fall back down. With that, you went to print the stencil, definitely not unaware to Ashton’s eyes burning a hole into your skin.

When you turned to him with the freshly printed stencil, you grinned, “You know the drill, Irwin, hop on the chair.”

Rolling his eyes, he made a big show of stripping off his shirt and sitting in the chair. You decided it was probably the best option to have him lay on his right side with his arm just out of the way. You prepped his skin, cleaning it and shaving it to make sure that no stray hairs would be in the way before you laid the stencil. Ashton shivered once again, this time at the cool touch of the cleaning solution.

“Okay baby?” You asked gently, tattoo gun poised in your hand and ready to begin.

He hummed in acknowledgement, licking his lips though you couldn’t see. You started with one small line, not missing the way Ashton sucked in a breath at the drag of the needle. Pausing to wipe at the ink, you briefly glanced up at him to see if he was alright. Since you didn’t hear him oppose, you continued on with the outline.

Once the outline was completed, you wiped the area once more, sitting back to admire it so far, “Wanna see the outline or do you wanna wait till it’s done?”

Ashton’s breathing was slightly irregular, goosebumps raising on his skin as you cleaned off the area some more, looking for any spots in the outline that you may have missed, “I think I’ll wait til the end, thanks love.”

“Are you doing okay? We can pause you know, I know the ribs are a bit harder.”

“No, no. It’s not that,” He was quick to say, glancing over his shoulder at you. You could see something in his eyes, but it wasn’t pain or discomfort, instead his pupils were blown wide and he seemed aroused, maybe? “I’m just kinda enjoying the pain and I’m bracing myself for the shading.”

As you continued on, Ashton would occasionally, which would cause you to pause instantly to check on him. He would wave you off, saying instead to keep going, that it felt good. Had the two of you not been dating, Ashton may have felt a little embarrassed the way his cock was straining against his pants, but he knew that should you have free time afterwards, you could make complete use of the empty shop - or at least, he hoped you would.

With the shading completed, you wanted to finish off with some small white detailing. Glancing up at Ashton, you sucked in a breath, “It’s time to do the white. You gonna be alright or are you gonna cum in your pants if I do it?”

Ashton let out a laugh, swatting at your hand holding the paper towel, “Would rather cum in you, so hurry that ass up.”

You laughed, but the way he spoke made you press your thighs together as you changed the gun for the white detailing. It took you a moment to get everything switched over, your mind continuously wandering to the very man whose back was facing you, lingering on the night before. His bite marks on your breast and collarbone were still sore, but it made the anticipation of what was to come after you finished the tattoo even better.

Ashton let out quiet curses as you started the white detailing, the goosebumps returning to his skin. He couldn’t believe how on edge he was, just from the sensation of the tattoo alone. It was almost as if he understood now what Calum had meant when they discussed his chest tattoo, the vibrations sending chills up his spine.

He had to remember to keep breathing, that was the only way he was going to even be able to hold out long enough to make it through the tattoo, using your breaks in tattooing to take a deep breath, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. Once you were done, you smiled brightly at the piece you had just finished, enjoying the fine detailing you were able to fit within the tattoo.

“Alright baby it’s done, go look in the mirror,” You spoke, touching his shoulder lightly so he could come down out of the daydream like state he seemed to put himself in.

Ashton stood, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the very obvious bulging in his jeans, your eyes unable to look up from that as he headed to the mirror to check it out. “Shit, baby, it looks amazing. You did a really good job.”

“Don’t I always?”

Ashton chuckled, nodding his head and headed back over so that you could clean it one final time and put the protective bandage over it. As soon as that had been completed, you looked up at him.

“Alright, Irwin, sit in the chair laying flat,” you demanded, standing to your full height and looking him in the eyes.

“Oh she wants to be in control, does she?” Ashton asked with a quirk of his brow, but sitting in the chair and doing as he was told to anyways.

“I mean, sure, but it just makes the most sense to ride you while we’re here. Also it’s easier to clean this up than the floor.”

“How do you know all of this?” “You wanna ask dumb questions, or do you want to fuck me?” You asked, hands on your hips.

Ashton smirked, running his fingers through his black locks before he reached down to undo the button on his jeans, tugging them down. By the looks of it, he had gone commando, almost as if he was anticipating this.

You shimmied your leggings and panties down, checking behind you to make sure that you had the curtain fully closed. Though the door was locked, you didn’t want passersby on the street to see into the shop. Taking Ashton’s hand, you straddled his waist, placing your hands behind his head on either side of the chair once you got your balance.

“Finally can check something off our list, hm? Fucking in my shop.” You spoke next to his ear, removing one hand from behind his head so you could line his cock up with your entrance, sinking down slowly. Both of you moaned at the feeling, now all too familiar for you.

Ashton grabbed your hips, keeping you steady as you got adjusted. He had only been in you 12 hours before, but the size of him made you take a moment to adjust almost every time. It was something you weren’t sure you could handle the first time you and Ashton had slept together, but that was also one of the first times that you didn’t need to be afraid of sex if it was with the right person.

Rolling your hips as a test, you groaned at the pull of his length against your walls, clenching around him.

“Keep that up kitten I really am not gonna last long,” He purred, squeezing your hips as you began a slow and steady rhythm.

You pressed kisses to his lips, his neck, just below his ear, anywhere you could reach really; you also took to tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging gently at each delicious thrust. The pace of slow and steady didn’t last too long though, Ashton usually the type for hard and fast, which anyone could have guessed just by looking at the drummer.

While you were on top, Ashton decided he needed to take control, so his hands slipped to your ass, gripping tighter as he started to meet your hips at a brutal pace. Tossing your head back, you gasped, digging your nails into his scalp; this only seemed to drive Ashton more, an almost animalistic growl tearing from his throat.

His right hand left you for a split second, only to come crashing down against your cheek in a harsh slap that brought you forward so you could bury your face in his neck.

“So good for me kitten, you like being spanked, don’t you? You love the pain almost as much as I do.” Ashton’s words were low in your ear, causing you to shut your eyes and nod in response.

“Yes, fuck. Please more,” You begged, fingers clutching at any expanse of skin you could, dragging your nails across. You began to nip at his neck as he delivered more slaps to your ass, the sting bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Ash, so close…”

“Yeah, baby? You gonna cum for me?” He moved lower in the chair, giving him a different angle so that his cock was dragging against your g-spot each time, “You wanna fuckin’ scream for me? Come on, who’s gonna hear you?”

His words drove you over the edge with you calling out his name, loudly at first, but then softly whispered like a prayer as he fucked you through it. Ashton wasn’t far behind, his thrusts only growing more and more sloppy until he finally came with a low curse, your body shivering as he filled you.

When the two of you came down from your highs, you lifted off of him, whining at the loss of him, and also the warmth beginning to trail down your leg.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Ashton chuckled, still panting from the exertion.

“Please,” You laughed, bending down to pick up your pants when you had a thought. “Hey Ash?”

“Yeah love?”

“Ever wanted to make a sex tape?” You asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“Never really thought about it, why?” Ashton looked at you, confused before brought over a dry paper towel and a wet paper towel to clean up the mess.

“Because we’re on not so candid camera,” Motioning to the newer camera you installed, the two of you burst out in a fit of laughter at the idea that you almost didn’t need to watch porn together, as you could watch yourselves if you really wanted to.

tag list: @haikucal @talkfastromance4 @calmlftv @canyon-moan @wildflowerirwin @irwindoll @notinthesameguey @heavenisapeach @ridingcthood @loveroflrh @mantlereid @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga @g-l-pierce @thecurlsofgod @idontneedanyone @boomerash @clemmings @cthofficial @ashtonsos @yikesguys @blackbutterfliescal @mashlums @ohhoneyofmine @monimickell @petunias-pet @treatallwithkindness @castaway-cashton @tea4sykes @begluketostay @wheniminouterspace @another-lonely-heart @ghostofmashton @myfavfanficsever @xsongxbirdx @stardust-galaxies @karajaynetoday

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin blurb

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orangepeelers · 4 years

Text

pretty photographer

read part 1 here!

the biggest idiots on the surface of the planet go on a date

***

After Sirius had left, Remus sat down at his kitchen table and edited the pictures, waiting for Lily to get home. He could still barely process what had happened, with the unbuttoned shirts and tattoos and makeup... Safe to say, the editing was not going very quickly.

Lily finally got back at around 10, dragging an oversized canvas in with her bag of art supplies. Remus quickly slammed the laptop shut, where he had totally not been studying Sirius’ tattoos.

“Where’ve you been?”

Lily laughed. “Geez, mum. Had to stay late at school to work on this stupid project.” She shot a look at the canvas that was taller than she was. “Stopped by at James’ on the way home. His roommate was there.” She waggled her eyebrows teasingly.

Remus tried to sound casual. “Oh?”

“Yeah, sounds like the shoot went very well,” she said, walking to their small kitchen to brew a pot of tea. “Like maybe there will be a follow up meeting to, y’know, discuss how well it went.”

Remus got up from the table and swatted her arm. “Oh, shut up.”

“So what did you think of him?”

“Sirius?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, my great-uncle who you also met today. Yes, Sirius.”

He sighed. “Drop-dead gorgeous. Overwhelmingly confident. Tattoos and piercings and long hair... basically who I picture when I think of my soulmate. How could you not at least show me a picture beforehand?”

She smiled and shrugged. “Element of surprise. But you got his number, right?”

“More like he gave it to me while I was paralyzed with hot-guy syndrome. But yes.”

“And you’re going on a date with him?”

He sighed again. “Well, I don’t know... He’s way out of my league.”

Lily turned to face him. She studied his face thoughtfully for a moment, before slapping him across it.

Remus jumped about a mile. “Lily! What was that for?”

“You are seriously the biggest idiot I’ve ever met. You met your literal dream guy, he gave you his number, and you’re not going on a date with him?”

Remus thought for a moment while he rubbed his face. She was right, Sirius was his dream guy. And he had been flirting with him for the whole shoot... “Okay, fine. I’ll text him.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You better. You can’t go throw away James’ and my hard work just because you’re nervous.”

Remus couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course you and James are behind this.”

“Couples who plot together, stay together. Now go text him, before I drink all of this for myself.”

Remus poured himself a mug of tea before retiring to his room. He stared at the posters and photographs on his wall while he worked the nerve up to retrieve the slip of paper from his pocket.

remus: hey is this sirius?

sirius <3: pretty boy! you finally texted

Remus blushed at ‘pretty boy’. The words made him feel all giddy inside, like someone had taken his stomach and turned it into a butterfly sanctuary. He grinned as he typed.

remus: well, i couldn’t stay away from a drop-dead gorgeous model like you, could i?

sirius <3: my charms are pretty irresistible

remus: so i was thinking

remus: do you maybe wanna go out sometime?

remus: if not that’s totally fine

sirius <3: why wouldn’t i want to go out with someone as cute and thoughtful as u?

sirius <3: not to mention a very talented photographer

Remus felt so happy he could scream. Cute and thoughtful? This guy was definitely not the garden-variety Tinder hookup

remus: i can’t take all the credit for the pictures. i do have the privilege of working with some of the most attractive people on the face of the earth

remus: so how about i pick u up saturday at 7? it’ll be a surprise

sirius <3: i love surprises

remus: saturday it is :)

A smile so wide he felt like it would crack his face in half spread across Remus’ face. He couldn’t believe he’d just gotten a date with someone so... Sirius. “Lily!” He called, “Saturday at 7!”

He could hear the grin in her voice as she called back. “See? Told you!”

That night, he went to bed grinning like a fool. The next few days were torturous as he counted down to Saturday. When the day finally arrived, the hours crawled by like old slugs. His heart wouldn’t stop going 100 beats per second.

Remus mulled over what he should wear for what must’ve been at least 45 minutes. He finally settled on a thrifted green jumper and worn blue jeans, with his well-loved pair of brown converse. He quickly texted Sirius.

remus: btw i hope u like biking

sirius <3: i like anything as long as it’s with u ;)

He rolled his eyes but smiled like an idiot. Grabbing his red bag, he knocked softly on Lily’s door.

She opened it and nodded approvingly. “Here, let me take a picture so I can show it at your wedding.” Remus pretended to make a face at her but obliged, sticking up a peace sign. “Good luck with your dream boy!” She gave him an affectionate hand squeeze. “Not that you’ll need it.”

He laughed. “Thanks, Lil.” He squeezed her back before heading out the door and hopping on his bike. James didn’t live far, which was convenient for Lily, and he supposed, him as well. Before he knew it, he was knocking on their green door.

James opened the door and grinned his signature mischievous grin. “Oh Sirius, your prince is here to see you!”

“Bugger off!” Sirius quickly came to the door and gave James an unceremonious shove. He was dressed in black jeans and a Green Day t shirt, with a black denim jacket covered in patches, as well as yellow Docs. He snapped his fingers before Remus could open his mouth. “Damn! Hang on, I’ll be right back.” He rushed off quickly.

When he came back, he was holding sprigs of lavender tied with a green ribbon. Sirius smiled sincerely. “For you. Lily told me they were your favorite.”

Remus almost proposed to him right then and there. Before he could lose his nerve, he gave Sirius a quick peck on the cheek. “I love them. Thank you.”

The two stepped outside, Sirius dragging James’ bike. “Haven’t ridden one of these in years. My favorite mode of transportation is motorcycle.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t forget how to, because I have a spectacular night planned for us.”

First, Remus led them to his favorite secondhand bookshop. They locked their bikes outside and stepped in, reveling in the smell of old ink and paper.

Sirius took Remus’ hand. “This place is amazing.”

Remus looked over at him and couldn’t help but smile. Sirius was scanning the shelves hungrily, drinking the shop in with his eyes. “I’m glad you like it.” He squeezed his hand.

They wandered around the shelves, laughing at funny titles and pulling out the things that caught their eye. Sirius picked out an old book with photographs of couples in it for Remus “Because I’m dating a photographer!” and Remus picked out a book of plants, since he found out Sirius had been trying to start a garden. They paid for the books and left, Remus leading the way to their second destination.

They parked in front of a cheerful old Italian restaurant filled with warm light and people living. Remus instructed Sirius to wait outside. “I’ll only be a moment, promise!” He quickly walked in and came back out with three white boxes of Italian food.

Sirius raised his eyebrows inquisitively, but Remus only smiled. “Let’s go to the last place.”

They arrived at Remus’ apartment building. Sirius grinned. “Oh, that’s the direction we’re going in?” Remus swatted him but laughed.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. Come on.” Remus unlocked the door and they climbed what felt like eons worth of stairs, talking and laughing the whole way up. Just before they got up the last flight, Remus made Sirius promise to close his eyes. He took his hand and they walked up together.

“You can open them now,” Remus said softly. Sirius opened his eyes and scanned the area. They were on the roof, where they could see all of London sprawled out beneath them like jewels on velvet. Lights glimmered white and gold, illuminating the people and cars bustling about like small insects in a field. It was perfect.

“D’you like it?”

Sirius turned to face him. “I- I love it. This is incredible, Rem.”

Remus smiled at the nickname. “Here, help me set up.” He pulled the food and a blanket out of his bag, along with some matches and candles. They set the boxes down on the blanket and lit the candles. The air was cool enough for them to see the steam coming off of the fresh pasta and garlic bread.

They dug in, and Remus was happier than he could remember in a long time. Sirius was an excellent conversationalist, not to mention the biggest flirt he’d ever met. They talked and talked until the last dregs of sauce had been wiped from the boxes, the last piece of garlic bread split in half. It was colder now, and Remus shivered against the wind.

“Come here.” Sirius held his arms open and Remus sat between his legs, leaning his back against Sirius. His heart was beating so fast now, nestled against Sirius’ warm chest. He felt safe and his heart felt full. He wanted to freeze this moment and live in it forever.

Sirius pulled Remus closer, rubbing his thumb against his shoulder. “Can we live here forever?”

Remus put his arms on either side of Sirius’ hips and turned around. “Yes, please.” They looked at each other for a very full moment before Remus closed the distance between their lips and kissed him. It was like no kiss he’d ever had before, sweet and full of warmth. Sirius’ lips moved gently against his, and he felt his cool lip ring against his warm mouth. Remus placed his hands at the nape of Sirius’ neck, pulling them chest to chest and curving his legs around his lower back. Sirius’ hands roamed the soft regions of Remus’ jumper. They pulled apart for a moment, breathless.

For once, Sirius was at a loss for words. “I- I’m... Um, I-”

Remus laughed and put their foreheads together. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

#wolfstar #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #wolfstar fic #sirus black #remus x sirius #remus lupin #mlm #mlm fic #the marauders #college au

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

the band with no name {Douglas Booth} 2

A/N: 1654 words. A bit shorter, but we’re getting into things now. idk how i feel about it, please give me feedback.

[PART 1]

Flop of The Month, your band, has an instagram account with exactly two posts on it, and Douglas feels like both and idiot, and a creepy stalker, for the amount of time he spends flicking through the two photos without actually liking them, for fear of you realising who he was.

Colson, however, seemed to have no such reservations.

“Look, I’m on their story,” Colson’s grinning from ear to ear as the cast and crew break for lunch the Monday after they’d seen your band play, showing Douglas his phone, and your band’s instagram story. It showed their notifications, highlighting how Colson had liked both photos and followed them, and had the caption ‘how’d the rap devil find us?’ and ‘not complaining tho’.

“Bloody hell,” is all Douglas can bring himself to say, wearing a half-smile as they made their way to the costume department to get changed before lunch. It had been a low effort day, just jeans and t-shirts, but it was always safer to not eat in costume. Hair and makeup could stay and be touched up however.

Your band’s page had begun the day with 217 followers, and ended it with over a thousand. There wasn’t a link to your personal page, and so all he can do is scroll through your Facebook while waiting for Colson to be ready to go.

Y/N: weird question Y/N: also, hi Y/N: but yeh, weird question Y/N: was your friend last night mgk?

Douglas takes a moment to compose his thoughts before typing out his response.

Douglas: hi back Douglas: and yes.

There’s a few minutes of silence, and Douglas can feel his scalp itching beneath his wig, just a little, but he tries to ignore it.

Y/N: cool. Y/N: well it was nice meeting you guys!! Y/N: looking forward to seeing if ur band is real btw Douglas: probably wont be for a while Y/N: im happy to wait Y/N: if u want me there that is Douglas: if we ever actually play a gig, you’ll be the first to know

You send a blushing smiling emoji back, and Douglas finds himself strangely pleased.

“Is that her?” Colson asks, eyes shining as he pulled on his leather jacket; with his wig and makeup, he still absolutely looked the part. Douglas quickly slipped his phone in his pocket, knowing that a faint blush dusted his cheeks despite his best efforts. As he waffled his way through an affirmation, Colson’s smile just grew wider.

“I still don’t understand why you were being so vague; she probably would have jumped you there and then if she knew you were part of the Motley Crue movie, man.”

“Yeah,” Douglas said, his discomfort mounting at the insinuation, “that’s the problem, dude; first of all, I don’t know if she like the band themselves, or just the music, and if she does like the band,” he paused, shrugging a little, quietly embarrassed, “what if she likes them better than me?”

“They’re all married,” Colson says, like it immediately solves everything.

“Man, you know that’s not the issue,” Douglas sighed, but it’s clear he wasn’t done, and Colson just waited, eyebrows raised, “you know, girls who are like... like... how did you say it the other week? When that girl from Instagram was in your DMs every other minute?”

“Clout chasing,” Colson nodded sagely, suddenly understanding all too clearly his co-star’s apparent fears, “well she doesn’t know who you are yet.”

“Exactly,” Douglas exclaimed, glad the craft services tent was finally in view, feeling himself grow hungrier by the moment, “and I think I wanna keep it that way, just for now.”

“Better pray she doesn’t watch Jupiter Ascending,” Colson snorts, just as Douglas punches him in the arm.

The next day, he messages you first, sends a photo of himself and the rest of the band out of costume, but holding their instruments, all wearing heels to help make it easier to wear them around set.

Douglas: the band says hi Y/N: shit, you guys have instruments and everything Y/N: getting less sketchy by the minute

You follow it up with a winking emoji, and a photo of yourself, out in the sunshine, dressed impeccably, makeup dark and sharp, holding a stack of posters beside your head, advertising your band’s next gig; this Saturday.

Douglas: are you inviting me? Y/N: only if you’re saying yes

Your confident coyness amuses him, despite the way the shoes are pinching his toes, and he tells you he’ll be there.

The next day, you send a link to a band name generator, but more interestingly, you send it right around the time he’s getting his makeup done, early in the morning.

Douglas: early start? Y/N: my shop won’t open itself Douglas: your shop? Y/N: mini mall tattoo parlor hahaha

“She owns a tattoo parlor?” Daniel asks, reading over Douglas’s shoulder between takes, “you’d better make your move or Colson’s gonna go for her.”

“Go for who?” Colson himself calls across set where his makeup’s being touched up.

“You weren’t meant to hear that!” Daniel shouts back, though he’s grinning, and adds, “Y/N. She owns a tattoo parlor.”

“Really, shit man, Doug she’s cool as hell,” Colson muses, before snorting, addressing Daniel, “gimme some credit, I’m letting the man shoot his shot; he’s my bro, not my competition.”

“Thanks man,” with the slightest smile, Douglas puts his phone away as the scene is reset around them, and Colson joins him in the middle of the living room set.

“I expect free tattoos, however,” he says with a faux seriousness, “because if you like her, like really like her, I’m gonna wingman the shit out of you.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, man,” he claps Douglas on the shoulder with a surprisingly sincere expression.

It’s Colson who suggests, the following day, sending a video of Douglas playing the bass, asking if you had any pointers. They’re at band rehearsals again, blasting through their repertoire, when they get to Take Me To The Top, and as the song dies down, Colson makes the suggestion.

“Why are you filming it?” Iwan asks, and Colson’s smile is all teeth where he’s holding Douglas’s phone, answering before Douglas has the opportunity.

“Tryna help impress that punk chick from the band last weekend.”

“You’re actually talking to her?” Iwan asks with a bright, almost incredulous smile, “after everything that happened? She must really like you.” He muses, and Douglas feels his soul leaving this mortal plane.

“Smart move; asking for advice from her, lets her know you think she’s talented, and, well, you know,” Daniel shrugs, wiggling his fingers with a casual air. Douglas frowns, but Colson’s nodding.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” he agrees, and finally Douglas clues in. Dexterous fingers.

“Don’t be gross, guys,” he sighs, already regretting letting Colson help at all, “just take the damn video.”

It only takes thirty seconds for you to respond in All Caps.

Y/N: ARE YOU IN A MOTLEY CRUE COVER BAND

“I’m fucked,” Douglas mutters under his breath, staring wide-eyed at the message.

Y/N: you play so well dude just relax your stance and shoulders Y/N: fkn love take me to the top Y/N: seriously a motley cover band??? Y/N: you just instantly got 100x cooler

“Okay, maybe I’m not fucked,” he concedes after a moment, quietly breathing a sigh of relief.

Y/N: now i have to see u guys play!! Y/N: if that’s alright of course

“Nah, you’re definitely a little bit fucked,” Daniel offers over his shoulder, and Douglas pushes his face away.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Douglas grumbles, and Daniel shrugs bemusedly.

“At least she thinks you play well,” but Douglas isn’t listening to him, he’s frantically tapping away on his phones, scowling, “what ‘re you doing?”

“Trying to come up with a name for our band -”

“Our fake band?” Iwan asks, arms crossed over his chest wearing an amused little smile, “do we have to play along with this too?”

“Not if you don’t want, just don’t... don’t tell her it’s fake is all.” Douglas offers, and the rest of the band nods.

“So how long are you going to play along with this bit?” Daniel ask, and Douglas heaves a sigh.

“Not sure; until I can trust that she’s not just in it to meet the actual band -”

“Which she doesn’t know you know,” Iwan interjected again, and Douglas nodded a little. After a beat, the rest of the band looked to each other, and seemed to share some sort of silent communication, before turning back to him.

“Okay,” Colson agrees easily, “if you’re serious about this chick you’ve known for five days,” he emphasizes, though Douglas doesn’t seem phased, “if we ever run into her, we’ll pretend we’re in a Motley Crue cover band.” He agrees, while Iwan and Daniel silently agree, though they look rather amused at the whole situation.

“There’s just something about her,” Douglas muses quietly.

“It’s the fact that she’s the coolest chick you’ve ever met,” Colson tells him with far too much authority, “and your little posh, school-boy brain wants to try something new.”

“Hey -” Douglas scoffed, though he was quickly talked over.

“She looks like she’d punch me in the face but I’d be okay with it,” Iwan adds, which, strangely enough, the rest of them agree to with various mischievous smiles. Douglas doesn’t exactly deny that he feels the same way.

“What’s our band name gonna be?” Daniel asks finally.

“The Fourskins,” Colson answers back immediately, grinning wide and proud of himself.

“Absolutely no-”

“That’s kind of genius,” Daniel snorts over Douglas’ protest, and so, on a three-to-one vote, their fake Motley Crue cover band is named The Fourskins, and Douglas kind of thinks he’d rather come clean there and then to you, rather than suffer through ever typing or saying that name to you. But he doesn’t.

He really hopes you’re worth it.

#Douglas Booth #douglas booth x reader #douglas booth imagine #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly #daniel webber #iwan rheon #The Dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the dirt imagine #the angry lizard writes

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cryoculus · 4 years

Note

More love for Semi please? Anything will do, your writing is exquisite in any form anyway :D

» Word Count: 1,857 wordsCross-posted on AO3

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE :(( I actually wrote three chapters’ worth of content for him already and you can read the whole thing on the ao3 link.(NOTE: This is based on the current events of the final arc of the Haikyuu manga. I tagged it as a spoiler but I won’t really go into the specifics of what’s going on. Semi is our main focus here ^__^)

—

“Please?”

“No,” was your flat reply.

Semi heaved a long sigh, mouth twitching into an irritated grimace. You returned his reaction with a sassy look of your own—one, finely penciled brow quirked as bright, red lips rivalled the adamance that Semi brought about. While you were in no position to tell him to just go back to his cubicle and get today’s work done (you, sadly, held the same position in office), you at least had the right to turn him down. Your department had a monthly financial report coming up. Why on Earth did he want your help writing a song?

“Come on,” he groaned. “You know I’d eat my fist first before asking for your help, but our manager really digs your old pieces from college.”

Your eye twitched.

“Way to beg for someone’s aid in a time of dire need,” you bit back sarcastically. “Go do it then.”

“What?”

“Eat your whole fist.” You gave him a pointed look, even making a show of paying attention by putting your pen down.

Your co-worker let out a frustrated groan, fingers carding through his messy, ashen hair. The gesture made the tattoos on his chest visible for a second, before disappearing again behind his barely done button-up. It was a mystery, how a man like him made it as a public servant—with his flamboyant piercings and tip-dyed hair—but you supposed you should learn to look past physical appearances. The agency allowed it, so why should you make a fuss?

Ah, right. Semi Eita was the most hot-headed man in your department, and he had a knack for picking fights with you.

“If you get the balance sheet done by five o'clock, I might reconsider,” you told him, not really meaning the words, as you directed your attention back at the paperwork on your desk. Balance sheets are the toughest to fill out, since the data needed had to be collated from different sectors of the city. You highly doubted that Semi, with his thinner-than-a-strand-of-hair patience, could finish it in one sitting.

“Deal.”

Your gaze hardened as you looked back up at him. “Come again?”

“Are you deaf?” he asked, folding lean arms across his chest. “I said it’s a deal.”

You couldn’t help the snort that made its way past your lips. Whatever his reasons may be, it was painfully obvious that he was desperate. But still. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry out the deed in your given deadline, but instead of talking him out of his own agreement, you merely shook your head in acceptance.

Semi eventually stalked off to his cubicle; the one just in front of yours. There was a divider that separated each employee’s workspace from the others, and it at least granted some semblance of privacy from outside gazes. You’ve been to Semi’s cubicle a couple of times—more to coordinate paperwork than engage in conversation, really—and he decorated his personal space exactly how a part-time rock band vocalist would. Though he didn’t exactly put up posters and painted the walls black, he added his own flair to his desk with guitar figurines, neon stickers on his desktop, and a photo of his bandmates enclosed in a sparkly picture frame.

The only reason you bothered looking so closely was the fact that you also went to the same university together (under the same degree, too!) You’ve always been keen around him, with his loud way of living, as opposed to you, who’s always chosen to live simply and without pretentiousness. Sure, the disparity between your lifestyles had caused you to be at each other’s throats since freshman year, but it was still a surprise that your synergy was top notch. You would, as Semi put it so delicately, eat your fist first before admitting to the fact, but it’s a given that you preferred to work with him instead of other, unfamiliar people.

You sighed, brandishing a bored look at the bleak document in front of you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help him out…

But when you recalled every time he’s talked over you during board meetings, sneered at you when he got a higher score during exams, and his distateful behavior in general, you steeled your resolve.

Either he’s going to get that balance sheet over with or he’ll keel over. If he wanted your help, he’s going to have to work for it.

—

You were in the middle of fixing your belongings when the sound of a stack of papers hitting your desk rang in your ears.

“There,” Semi said breathlessly, making you look up at him in surprise. He even tossed a flash drive on top of the papers he deposited, where you saw the city hall’s heading printed in full color. You reluctantly checked your phone for the time. 16:57, it said, in a mockingly bold typeface before shoving it in your pocket.

The damn guy really did get it done before five.

“The electronic document is saved in there, in case you lose the print.” He was panting at this point, and you had a vague idea as to why he looked like he just ran a marathon. The one printer in your department (this year’s budget was cut) broke down a few days ago, and the nearest functional one was at the Logistics office three floors down.

Still refusing to believe it, you peered at the documents he just brought in. You scanned each of the entries printed on each page. That’s when you realized that Sendai City’s expenses have skyrocketed since the new year because the list of expenses occupied a whole page alone. A worried sigh made its way past your lips, but at least the liabilities were cut down to a minimum. You heard that the governor of Miyagi was going to pledge a few hundred thousand yen for the city’s founding anniversary, too.

You paused. Blinking, you rearranged the papers neatly back into its pile—biting back the urge to clutch your wounded pride. Semi was looking at you expectantly, like he wanted you to praise his flawless bookkeeping.

In actuality, his determination was beginning to freak you out.

“Why do you want me to help you so badly?” you asked, voice almost trembling. “Seriously, dude. I thought we hated each other. Quit acting out of character.”

“I told you, our manager really liked the songs you composed back in senior year,” he drawled, tired of having to repeat himself.

Your face twisted in confusion. “Who even is this manager of yours?”

There was a half-second delay in his response, but before you could paint a reason for his hesitation, he immediately replied with, “Saito. Saito Makoto.”

You stiffened, gaze going rigid at the mention of that name. “Oh.”

“Yeah. If I manage to give him a piece by the end of the month, he’ll help us sign a contract with a big-shot record label,” Semi explained, oblivious to your discomfort.

“But haven’t you been writing songs since high school?” you wondered aloud. “That’s what you said during our Pol-Gov class ice breaker.”

He frowned. “You still remember that?”

Okay. You kept forgetting that your sharp memory wasn’t always a praiseworthy thing. You gulped, feeling the heat creep up your face. “Um, anyway, the point still stands. You’ve been writing songs for God-knows-how-long, and while I’m not one to dish out compliments especially to you, I’m pretty sure they’re okay if you managed to gather a decent fanbase.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the divider of your cubicle. “We’re a rock band. I write rock songs, but Saito wants me to write a goddamn love song.”

Typical Saito. Though he looked like a rugged high school delinquent, he was awfully sentimental when it came to music. He was the one who inspired you to write the songs Semi was pestering you about all day after all…

“Fine,” you relented. “I never go back on my word and since you did a…good job with this, I’ll help you out.”

His light brown eyes lit up for a moment, but Semi managed to mask his relief in a split second—containing his excitement in a single nod. “Are you free this Saturday? You can come by my place and we could start getting to work.”

Well, that was forward of him. You expected to work on the song in a coffee shop or something, but he went on ahead and invited you to his own humble abode anyway. You parsed through your weekend plans in your mind, and once you confirmed that you were free, you scribbled down your phone number on a sticky note. Almost five years of acquaintance and you’d never bothered giving it to him. Huh.

“Just text me the time and place,” you told him, pocketing the flash drive as you slipped the balance sheet in one of the empty folders in your organizer. “You better not pull anything funny and lead me to a secluded alley or something.”

Semi scoffed, folding the piece of paper and sticking it inside his trousers. “As if.”

You then slung your bag across your shoulders, grinning insincerely. “Glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

With that, Semi exited your cubicle, leaving you no room to wonder why he didn’t even spare a quick ‘thank you’.

Just as you were smoothing out the creases on your pencil skirt, your phone began buzzing in the pocket of your blazer. Brows raised, you fished it out and unlocked it.

From: Makohey, wanna grab some dinner? its on me :3

Speak of the devil. You swallowed the lump in your throat, fingers shakily managing to type a coherent reply.

To: MakoYeah sure. Where to tho

From: Makocan we get some italian? ik u love the udon place across the street but akane’s having dinner w her friends there

From: Makocant have her seeing us together now do we

The way he put that so casually made your chest constrict with a too-familiar sensation. You heaved a deep breath, pursing your lips into a thin line as you sent a quick “Ok” text to end your conversation. Saito replied with those iffy heart-eyed emojis that he only ever used when he wanted something from you, and you had to compose yourself so you wouldn’t burst into tears right there.

“Oi.”

You almost jumped at the sound of Semi’s voice as he peered inside your cubicle once more. He clutched his suitcase in one hand, eyeing you curiously.

“What do you want?”

“You’re headed uptown, too, right?” he asked, and you nodded reluctantly. “Thought you’d want a lift.”

“Semi, just because I’m helping you achieve your dreams, doesn’t mean you have to be nice to me.” You laughed softly, tension easing from his uncalled for kindness.

He, however, looked unconvinced. “Do you want a ride or not?”

You raised your hands in defeat, managing a genuine smile. “Alright, fine. It’ll be a hellish commute anyway.”

You liked to think that that’s how you started becoming friends with your odd, hot-headed co-worker.

#haikyuu!!#semi eita #semi eita x reader #shiratorizawa #hqscenario #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu spoilers #hq headcanons #hq!! headcanons

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revelaare · 4 years

Text

Shit said in the Crimson Discord & VC, taken out of context part 2, (the sequel)

Big NSFW warning, probably

his meat slid off and then slid right back on

[PRONOUN] can punch me in my uterus and make a hammock out of my ovaries

it’s one of the worst fucking things i’ve ever heard, and i’ve heard someone literally shit their pants

they tagged me and my ass clenched

this man just said “I want to eat ur ass and then kiss you” ok buddy

a man with a plan

my grandpa is texting his hoes from his flip phone

god my lawyer was a hit but idk if she will be the chosen one or not

hello give me your toenails

i'll touch you in a non-weird way

he was in that movie with the people, he was the human.

i want her to brush my hair

If we have dick glasses they have to be of the highest quality for the best experience

i don't wanna watch that white nonsense

i would throat him like a fine wine

these millenials can't live without ac? back in my day we lived on the sun

yall better put those goats on a wheel, tell them to start running

he looks like a bitch

yes or no, u wud punch the light bulb out of thomas edisons wrinkly pruned hand and asked him if he believed in god

still has skin and a working body

i needed to wait until my voice changes

you thought i was snacking on joe biden’s savory meat stick

barack guckin oglizzy, oguckma, barack osugma, Joe choden, OglchnnngggHHHYynnUUUnnghhma

why did i have a dream that i was taking the lid off my car

false gods require wine, real gods require coochiefice

fettucine wet ass pussy

that was all you sent me. the picture of a raccoon and then nothing

it isn’t hate, it is ‘continuously let down by’.

i never went to school who science

i’m gunna go peer pressure my mum into a shot

thank you for furthering my career at hot topic

i will suck the ingrown hair off of him

it has huge jackman in it

i chomped on this eggshell, got my calcium in for the day

i will take you to touch the mango

i want to see all the big things

[PRONOUN] has collar bones so deep you could hook a clothing hanger into it

no asscheeks in fucking family chat you animals

he will eat you alive and suck out your intestines like its a spaghetti noodle

[NAMES]’s Tiggle Biddie’s

dropped acid, cried the whole night.

my stomach is hooping and hollering, i’m about to eat some sleep

you want my throatsac ??

please dont know me as the toenail eater

you have to keep the skin on one side while you eat the other, thats basic mango physics

i mean he is some good sasuage

calm down dick Hannibal

respectfully, what the fuck is this

tbf i only eat my steaks where they need tampons

you committed acts of culinary terrorism

does your refrigerator whimper and cower in the corner when you approach it. that's your fridge trying to use echo location to locate a safe space

thundercuck

i almost met Jesus, I almost got an autograph. Almost got a greatest hits signed album.

respectfully, are you smoking fucking crack?

my left testicle could play better than you

i’ll eat him with ketchup

son of a biscuit eating bulldog!

now it’s back to me sucking, all is right in the world.

holy fuck weasels.

holy fuck, weasels!

why does the bad guy look like the Statue of Liberty?

this is a man that sometimes willingly dresses like a lumberjack

and me, being an emotional cripple, must make jokes about this.

hey my name is [NAME] i'm **definitely** who i say i am

[NAME OR PRONOUN] offered a back massage by calling it the “tickle thing”

i love a man who puts his parents in a nursing home.

my brain is going to take a hot shower

wait have u seen steve harvey's coochie

if it were me i would simply not be pregnant

look im not about to be out here saying i love [NAME OR PRONOUN] feet, but i am about to be out here saying that their feet are some of the nicest feet i've seen in a long time

i named my cloyster renesmee

[NAME] was texting me from the bathtub

you’re pregnant? That’s unfortunate.

do I say dumb shit? Perhaps. Do I take ownership? Perhaps.

i pay for things in blissful ignorance

i am an emotional vagrant

i am an emotional fragrance

to make a long motherfucking story short...

this enchilada tastes like asshole and sadness

you are not an ugly bitch, you’re just a bitch

that’s not a nut shot, buddy.

i’m sad because i sucked the meat off of this pumpkin spice latte

i want to make a blanket out of his eyebrows

what are you disgracing my Christian eyes for?

he be looking at that dick like why does it go so much to the left?

I want her to record an audio book for me so I can fall asleep listening to her voice.

Can I lick you like an ice cream cone? Asking for science.

like you're out to lunch with your bromie and you're eating some rubens or something and you wistfully look over the rim of your sunglasses and just: You ever buss 2 fast

my accent is flaccid

timotay chalamaymay’s sweet ass

on the bright side mcallister’s gave me 3 pickle spears. Almost enough to make a whole pickle.

you think they came from the same mommy pickle?

HIS DOODLE IS OUT

i thot that meant [NAME] wanted to...doodle his noodle

i don’t use commas, i don't respect u enough, fuck ur reading comprehension.

does australia have seasons

i want someone to embalm my body with mcdonalds sprite

his hermione grangina

purrrr my last email

its lore locked beneath 30 layers. u can only understand it if uve had a near death experience

LET'S GET FUCKY

i wanna have the heart of a stoner

his man titties look like little tattooed pillows

SWIGGITY SWOOTY COMIN FOR THAT BOOTY

there were no cheeks to shake. nothing to clap. no noise to be had from her literal slices of wonderbread

u ever just fuck around and ur tits fart

put a lil mint leaf on it for authenticity

alright brother god bless may u be fertile

i feel like im being advocated for something i shouldnt be advocating for

and i am adam with my fat pendulous balls lol

i’m making whuppie with whoopie godberg

theodore tits fart rex

yeah man do u also have the third toe on ur shoulder

the green spaghetti monster is coming for me and i can't blame him

today i learned starfish do not poop

that was nothing compared to some other things I saw

listen I'd willingly watch [NAME/PRONOUN] in a cell for 24 hours. Imagine that sounded less creepy

i'd lick a dirty flip flop off her abs

i’m tempted to show you all the gravity defining boobs, maybe tomorrow

my brain is on vacation

good morning! i ate breakfast and im ready to go to bed

tape the titty in

ive unironically had nightmares with [NAME] in them

the peanut in the auditory canal

so far this feel all comfortable, does this all make sense?

i know it's kind of a schlep to get through

nail polish or no nail polish for the shower?

and then he saw those big tt honkerz... and it all went down hill from there

can y’all stop chanting curses in the chat my furniture is stuck on the ceiling

EH?! CIAO? HELLO??

in Russia this is not ok

i can’t buy pants here on Sunday either

IT'S LIKE TWELVE THOUSAND DOLLARS TO EAT ON A SOGGY PANCAKE

imagine me going up to [NAME/PRONOUN] and being like i love the way ur flesh smells

in a supermarket. The sickly blue light where humans congregate. Animal human masses. Nameless faces. Whole lives boiled into generalized categories like "asshole who definitely does need 4 boxes of cheerios". Yout hink and realize while stabding in line u didnt grab the bag of frozen peas...but its 2 late

its truly the only picture that gives me pure joy

are weasels real

my work mum just messaged me the phrase "use your booty call wisely" with no context

"let's bring u to the mustache chair"

If you’re not doing coke under the coke sign what is the point?

#⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ meme day #HERE U GO U SINNERS.#THE SEQUEL.

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zanecosh · 4 years

Photo

’ ･ﾟ : 👽 : ･. INTRODUCTION — Zane Wancosh .･: 👽 :･ﾟ ’

⌠ CHANCE PERDOMO, TWENTY-ONE, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, ZANE WANCOSH! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in MEDICAL TRAINING; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (sunglasses in every imaginable color, serenading ‘ my heart will go on ‘ loudly at 4 am, finger guns to the pals and the gals). when it’s the (aries)’s birthday on 04/18/1999, they always request their FRENCH FRIES WITH GRAVY from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

tw; drugs, jail/prison ??, alcohol

PAST but not rlly since i always had to mention what it did to him

- Zane was raised in Ottawa, Canada .. something he is very proud of and will mention a billion times as soon as he gets to know someone -- he will also deliberately say ‘ eh ? ‘ to let people know b ut we all know he ain’t sleek !!

- His parents had always been a loving bunch so he grew up receiving so much affection and attention that he now is a little FULL of himself but only because he seeks love and won’t stop until someone provides it for him im srry i didn’t make the law

.- So given his upbringing he’s always been the completely affectionate type, having his hands everywhere all the time and achING for hugs and small things like hand holding or just a pat on the shoulder like he is seriously convinced that if he doesn’t get at least four hugs a day he will die a painful, lonely death

- So in addition to that, he had always been a very active, youthful and energetic kid which was pretty much something he got from his dad since he sort of kept things playful and always did the best that he could while his mom was on the stricter side but instead knew how to teach him things that were important !!

- So growing up he always made friends very easily because of how open he was ( except that time when he brought this girl home at the age of 7 because he thought she’d make a cool pet ) and because he was always vERY friendly, even if he had a tendency to be too nice at times and just got upset when people didn’t like him ?? which is honestly still the case

- Of course he loved being popular which is kind of his aspiration in most things nowadays?? he seeks to be liked so much it’s sometimes a lil sad but he will legitamately try anything to make you his friend and he wont care if ur bothered because at least then he’ll get a reaction out of you !! but yeah it’s something he never really learned bc he’s used to getting validated from his parents so he genuinely doesn’t COMPREHEND meanness ://

- It was when he was around ten ( 10 ) years old when his dad randomly moved to New York ?? which was honestly super scary to him but his mother assured him that it was for a special job which was definitely weird for him because that was the only thing she ever said when he asked her about his father and ofc zane wasn’t dumb just a little idiotic !!

- They still visited his father often where Zane was able to get to know America and New York a little better, which he definitely enjoyed even though he sort of preferred Canada always because he likes snow a lot and the fact that it kind of melts when you pee on it but anyway he was getting a bit more suspicious as he grew older

- Then on his sixteenth birthday he was able to visit his dad once more to which he then was revealed that his dad was the ring leader of a spy business !! WOW to which Zane was baffled of course bc his dad ??? who tripped over his 7th birthday cake because Zane saw a squirrel and started to chase it ?? exactly !!

- So of course, Zane wanted to start working there !! Not only because of curiosity but school was kind of boring ( ngl ) and he missed his dad a lot so while his mother was not happy about his choice at all she always believed in people doing whatever they wanted so without much time passing the male moved to New York and started working for his father !!

- it was quickly noticiable that Zane wasn’t great at spy work, considering he was incredibly clumsy and was always distracted by everything and almost shot off his left toe ONCE okay it was only onCE !! Anyway his father got a little frustrated with his chaotic energy so he gave him the jobs were he was usually with someone else so they could babysit him which was honestly better for him too bc he could make friends !!

- So when he was around 19 that’s when he got to know his boy Landon, his main squeeze, one could even say the love of his life ( only he would say that ) but they immediately vibed with Landon being his driver even though they lowkey ended up doing stuff that completely wasn’t what his dad wanted but Zane was honestly just loving life and just doing a bit of shady stuff with his buddies was bonding ??

- HOWEVER NOT ALL THINGS CAN BE SUNSHINE AND CAKE; so they often kind of got into trouble ?? they were good at hiding and sort of running from the cops a couple of times but honestly not that much of a big deal as Zane would say but once upon a time, these assholes rlly got caught ahead of their time to which Landon then got away in time with someone from Gallagher helping while Zane honestly didn’t know what was happening n got caught ??

- To which he then ended up in jail for a year !! love carrying contraband while being high as fuck !! anyway, it was a very self reflecting time . even though he sort of learned nothing ?? anyway not even his dad could bail him out, only shorten the time if he in return joined Gallagher, a school where he would learn how to behave and use his spy knowledge to some good instead of just causing trouble !!

- Which he honestly didn’t vibe with so much because he was kind of scared of these spy kids ?? legit all of them could kill them w a look he wasn’t sure was his dad was thinking but that’s also why he chose medicial training, in order to not get hurt and if he did, he would be able to take care of himself which honestly wasn’t that much of a help when he was about to bonk this girl but ended up hitting his dick against the ground as they rolled around ?? he doesn’t wanna talk about it

- Anyway, he sort of grew into Gallagher for the most part, since he is a very adaptable person in general and was looking forward to making friends with people who were way cooler than him which was honestly a plus !! he just vibing y’all there ain’t no problem at all at all

PERSONALITY & LITTLE QUIRKS

- He’s super chaotic and all over the place, loves talking about anything and everything and sort of philophises over the most mundane things because its fun to talk about life y’all

- He has a super colorful taste in clothing and decoration and is pretty extraordinary in most things in life, whether its sunglasses or flowers on his backpack and shirts and stuff that’s way too big

- Is a slow talker and also doesn’t understand people who talk fast

- Has a habit of interrupting people mid-conversation and doesn’t realize that it could appear rude

- Loves everyone, is also super affectionate and always has an arm around his friends or will at least ask for conSENT bc that matters to him but he will most likely touch u some type of way im sorry

- Probably because he is super fidgety too, he legit has his hands everywhere all the time because he doesn’t like to stay still

- Somewhat of a class clown and certainly does not enjoy studying or any school related work so he’s kind probably always on the verge of failing ?? idk how he does it you guys

- will fist bump you but will also grab your ass

- Just wants to chill most of the time but somehow still always stressed

- Is a party ANIMAL like if there is a party, he’s there and probably drunk and high before the party even starts ?? in general i don’t think he’s been sober a day since he turned 18 who the fuck knows

- Will probably trip and fall everywhere as a drunk but he just laughs about it the second day, like he says if he doesn’t get hurt it won’t be a good party and i honestly worry about him and i’m not sure how he’s still alive

- does the peace sign way too often

- could be considered a sunny boy but since he’s from cold ass Canada he loves snow way much more and the cold for some reason

- has the biggest potty mouth like he doesn’t even realize he’s swearing

- is extremely honest like he will just stand there listening to someone complain and be like well that’s a bitch

- also huge flirt and also catches feelings fast and will mostly say it outright when he falls for someone like boy has seriously no shame ?? he will feel the heartbreak but he believes he can deal with it better than questioning it all the time and if they feel the same he will just loVE

- he also might be polyamerous he doesn’t know it yet bc he’s never had that many chances but he just likes to love whatever

- his head is everywhere and nowhere at the same time so it’s possible that he doesn’t make sense 80% of the time

- has tattoos that don’t make sense at all, i like to refer pewdiepie or uhhhh what’s his name uhhhh kURTIS CONNER ?? im too lazy to fact check i been writing this for an hour let me be

- knows how to juggle and thinks that’s that probably the coolest skill he’s ever learned

- has two earthworms that he got during a biology project back in high school who have been in his possession for six years now ?? ( i checked they live for four to eight ) he loves them to death ok their names are Niall and Liam ....... ( yes he was an 1D stan don’t confront him about them he’ll cry )

- is very superficial, loves the horoscope and believes in like bad luck and stuff like that, will scold u if u don’t listen to him rant about unlucky things !!

/ @gallagherintro

#gallagher:intro #not putting any wcs bc he legit fits everything ok #this got loooong #but i could meme for 4 hours w this dude

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imagineseclipse · 5 years

Note

Hey! Can u do another Hardin Scott imagine? Where you are Hardin's gf and Tessa tries to take him from u but Hardin tell her he has a gf? But she won't give up. Also plz make reader bff with molly

You felt fingers run through your hair as you lay your head down on the lunch table, lifting your heavy head as you peered to your right, your best friend Molly flicking her pink highlights out of her face as your hair fell messily over your face.

“I’m not going to any more college parties, I’m not going to be convinced by you again”you grumbled as she flashed you a smug grin.

“I’m not going to any more college parties”she mocked you jokingly, pulling you in for a tight hug. The two of you continued to chat amongst yourselves, making plans to have dinner together that evening.

Your attention was drawn somewhere else as your boyfriend Hardin Scott waltzed into the canteen. His eyes falling on yours immediately. He approached your table, offering Molly a Goodmorning hug. Thank goodness your best friend and your boyfriend didn’t hate eachother.

“Goodmorning sunshine”he smiled adoringly as he kissed the top of your forehead. You mumbled out a ‘Goodmorning baby’ reaching your hand up intertwining your fingers with his, Hardin’s arm slung over your shoulder.

Molly was just about to invite Hardin out for dinner with the two of you when she was interrupted by another body approaching the table.

Tessa bravely plopped herself down in the seat closest to Hardin, receiving a scowl from Molly. You grimaced as Tessa leaned towards Hardin completely ignoring yours and your best friends presence. Not rude at all.

“Goodmorning to you too Nessa”Molly rolled her eyes, your pupils flickered over to your bestfriend letting out a small chuckle that only she could hear.

“It’s Tessa, actually”the girl shot back, turning to Hardin once more. You listened closely, hearing Molly mumble out an ‘I don’t care’ before taking a very large bite out of her pancake knowing that if she didn’t she would say something very controversial, and Nessa wouldn’t like it.

“So Hardin there’s this thing tonight, down at the lake I was hoping I’d see you there”she smiled innocently batting her eyelids at your boyfriend who was currently tracing circles on your back.

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, Tessa had completely disregarded your existence, so confidently putting the moves on your boyfriend in front of your face. This had been going on for a while now, you would have said something if you didn’t have complete trust in Hardin.

Molly on the other hand, had a lot to say to Tessa but you’d made your friend promise to stay silent until something major happened. Avoiding the drama at all costs.

Hardin looked up at Tessa for a millisecond, a hopeful look on her face as he turned to you, kissing you on your cheek. Molly smirked as she watched Tessa’s mischievous grin fall straight off her face.

“Babe, do you wanna come to the lake tonight?”Hardin hummed quietly.

This wasn’t part of Tessa’s plan at all, in fact this was the last thing she wanted. You shook your head, gesturing over at Molly. You had dinner plans and you weren’t about to ditch your friend all because of a stupid crush this girl had on your boyfriend.

“Actually, Molly and I-

“We’ll be there”Molly cut you off, widening her eyes at you. As your best friend you understood her facial expressions and this was one that you loved. Molly had a plan. She sent Tessa a sickly sweet smile before taking a sip of her hot tea. Oh, Molly had always gotten the timing on point.

Hardin smiled at the two of you, giving your hand a little squeeze before telling Tessa that the three of you would maybe see her later. Adding a ‘maybe’ that really must’ve gotten Tessa’s blood boiling.

Tessa nodded slowly before pushing herself up from the table. Finally.

She said goodbye to only Hardin (surprise, surprise) before strutting off towards the exit throwing her bag over her shoulder nearly knocking out a poor boy who was trying to read in peace.

Molly let out one last snort, the three of you resuming the conversation you were having before Miss.Imtryingtostealyourmanbutimfailing had turned up. Hardin stayed next to you until the bell started to ring loudly. He had English class next whereas you and Molly had a free period.

He gathered his things together, never forgetting to give you a goodbye kiss and a ‘Jesus Christ I’m so in love with you’

“I’ll come and pick you and Molly up later and we’ll go to the lake together”he mumbled against your lips as you wrapped your arms around his torso.

“It’s so hard letting you go, I just want to take you to class with me”Hardin frowned down at you as he bid his farewell, leaving you and Molly to finish eating.

You and your best friend shared an awkward glance before you let out a sigh.

“Okay let’s hear it”you said, staring at Molly.

“Who does she think she is?! Seriously y/n, she thinks she can really come in here and try and take Hardin when you two have been together since literally the start of time”Molly started to ramble on, getting more flustered as every second passed.

“Moll it’s okay”you smiled at your bestfriend.

“It’s just that you and Hardin together, it’s all I’ve really ever known you’re like my parents”she laughed, shaking off her tantrum.

“We’re going to this gathering and if need be the earrings will come off”she warned, leaning back in her seat.

So much for not going to another college party.

The three of you had arrived just on time that evening, thankfully not seeing Tessa for at least an hour into the party leaving time for you and your two favourite people to have some drinks. A few of your other girlfriends had attended, Molly filling them in on that awkward conversation you’d had with Nessa at the lunch table.

They had all agreed to keep an eye on her, agreeing that she was doing the absolute most to break up you and Hardin.

And that’s how you, Molly and your friend Steph Jones had found yourselves kneeling behind a bush, watching as Tessa practically ran towards Hardin who was chilling out by the lake.

He’d taken a phonecall from Christian Vance, someone who you’d met a great handful of times, Tessa had obviously seen that he was alone, and this was her chance.

“That stupid bit-

Molly began to stand up, you pulling her back down to where she was positioned before.

“I wanna see where she’s going with this”you mumbled shakily before proceeding to watch her walk over to your boyfriend.

You couldn’t hear the conversation clearly, but it seemed as if she was laughing every five seconds. Hardin was funny, but he wasn’t that funny.

“I didn’t know Hardin was a stand up comedian”Steph hummed sarcastically as she shook her head.

“Neither did I”you sighed as your eyes intently fixed on the girl sat way too close to your soulmate.

Seconds later and she was leaning in, presumably to kiss him, this was the breaking point your heart rate had increased drastically as you launched yourself up from the ground.

It was Molly’s turn to pull you back down.

“Look”she whispered gesturing over to the two of them.

Hardin had gently swerved out of Tessa’s path, leaving her hanging. Wow that has to be embarrassing.

He stood up, backing away from her immediately.

“I don’t want to upset you Tessa, but I’m so in love with y/n you should respect that”he rejected her. Your heart almost burst.

This was the boy you were going to marry.

Molly had a proud smile on her face and Steph gushed over yours and Hardin’s relationship.

Tessa said a few words that you couldn’t quite catch, but Hardin continued to shake his head.

“I have a girl, she’s my girl. I’m not interested, I couldn’t even imagine being interested in any one else”he replied with a little more attitude this time.

She shook her head, storming off towards the fire pit. Molly smirked before turning to you, taking out her earrings. She placed them in your bag.

“I’ll be back”she informed the two of you as she departed in the same direction Tessa had gone. You shuddered, watching as Steph jumped up from her position.

“I gotta see this”she ran off after Molly. You slowly approached Hardin, surprising him by placing small sweet kisses over his tattoos.

“Y/n, I have to tell you what just happ-

“I know”you mumbled as he spun around so he was facing you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

“You’re not mad?”he questioned.

“I could never be mad at you, I trust you and you handled that so well I love you so much Hardin”you rested your head on his chest hearing his heart beat.

He looked down at you, taking in every one of your features.

“I love you too”he smiled, kissing you.

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