#like yeah i know the song and dance 'you can draw and create whatever you want' but i tend to overthink on what other people think/feel
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Do you still sketch your OCs from your stories? It feels kinda sad we haven't seen your original stuff for so long. 😢
Ahhh I occasionally do sketches that I leave in a sketchbook yeah-
I appreciate the folks who do like my original stuff ye ye ye ye there's no doubt about it- unfortunately I feel a certain level of disconnect with the majority of the OCs I've spent time on, Kirkewood characters a result of burnout, and other OCs I used to frequently draw but not much any more I won't get into other than the fact they don't bring me much joy-
Also somewhat frustratingly for me personally is that the motivation for creating new characters/stories is very short-lived, I think part of that is feeling a certain level of guilt for having essentially abandoned older OCs/projects given that there was/were other people involved- like "oh you'll spend time on these new things but won't on older things you've already spent countless hours developing on?" sort of thing and then I won't work on anything and just stick to fan art
#thinking about it now it is kind of depressing and lame pffffffffft#like yeah i know the song and dance 'you can draw and create whatever you want' but i tend to overthink on what other people think/feel#and end up tying myself down a bit#not to say drawing fanart is limiting but i do feel a great deal of admiration for artists who have made a name for themselves creating#almost strictly their own ideas#not to mention the ever looming 'nobody will care unless its related to popular media' internet artist fear#which isn't true of course but#the thought is still there pffffffffffffffff
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Doodle time, in class 👍
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(so to clarify in my school, we have a strict rule not to bring any electronics, from home so we’re not allowed to bring our phones )
octopus, DJ by @ntls-24722
he just popped in my head doing those cool poses supposed
I think that sentence rhymes 😝 I know I didn’t make them really chubby, even though I really do I just need to practice more
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oh yeah and here or there is some thing I got really inspired off by an animation called,the worm
It’s actually pretty cool and it gives you the chills not that much but the ones (want to have another episode ) kind of chills
and it had a detective that somehow give me vibes that what if Fritz before he got reincarnated what, if -what if Fritz wasn’t or didn’t go through what he did in his childhood and in fact, he lived a normal life and become a detective. He looks like a very suitable person, but of course our Fritz, insane personality makes him much suitable to be fritz ✨
edit : here he is 👇✨
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NTLS!! You have to go see him tell me what do you think??? doesn’t look like friends without reincarnation (or if it didn’t happen at all) ???
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Here is my fellow boy oh, by the way, I think that is inspired by Ntls as well I remembered to draw something similar to it but this guy I think he’s a lizard. I don’t know where he is yet. I just know that the colors are completely different. And his food is different. But I don’t know I named him bubbles by the way bubbles DJ what do you guys think? I don’t know yet. They already covered up that he only walks on four legs, and he rarely walks on his two back legs
Oh yeah yeah yeah yeah!!!!!
where is this? Funny thing happened as well with him every single time I try to draw him fully I don’t draw the tail full in
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There is one of them
oh yeah and on top is actually the diabetes celebration day for men. My friend told me about it and it was supposed to be I think right now to other people two days ago
look at him very cute with a stormy out 😚
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Here is him sleeping he like to sleep with his mouth open all the time I mean with the song out just creating a puddle of saliva And here it is this fat hundred XL ass boy dancing he was in my head, the whole entire lesson, and I said “I had to draw it!”
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I have never in my life draw big shoes. I am really proud of the big shoes that I did here. Oh yeah, and this guy is name is puppet I know it’s very taking, but I thought of killing him that because I can do whatever the hell I want with him, I could create them to be a cat like in the picture down belooooow
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I have been sleeping for two hours for two days now and my head is throbbing so this is one of them him checking on me
because I couldn’t handle it. I literally fall asleep. While I am writing notes.
And yeah, I was drawing this underneath the table because the teacher was right beside me and if they saw me, they might actually go through it and tell me why aren’t you writing I guess that’s all
good night everybody or good morning or good afternoon or whatever time you have right now bye I need to go to sleep. I have a lot tomorrow.(thanking about DJ will go to sleep.🤭)
guys is it normal that my body shaking it’s really shaking violently while I’m writing this I think it’s fine I don’t know. Is it ??
#dj music man#bubbles DJ#Ntls#fnaf djmm#fnaf#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa#(almost) daily music man#ntls-24722#I need to sleep
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My Boss: Chapter 2
Chapter Summary: After a slow day at work, Joel returns to help you drag the kayaks out of the rain at the day's end. Despite feeling guilt you devise a plan with a white lie to draw him to your cabin after hours.
Reader x Joel Miller
Joel eventually made his way up to the arts and crafts tent, making his rounds more heavily to the indoor stations on, what turned into, a rainy afternoon. You felt his absence when he had gone, though you knew he was throwing you a bone in giving you the lake station on a rainy day.
You toyed on your phone a bit, browsing Instagram and Tumblr. You put your phone into private mode and cyber stalked Joel, smirking to yourself when his professional photo popped up. He was as cute as ever with a neat, navy blue polo on in his head shot. Facial hair was trim and hair combed perfectly above a beaming smile.
The rain picked up again, creating a steady rhythm on the metal roof of the shed. You tucked your feet in farther, careful not to get your white Nikes soaked in the downpour that made every attempt to get into your dry space.
Next to you, the empty chair made you sigh. It was selfish. You knew it. Joel wasn't yours to keep to yourself all day, though you wished one day maybe there was some snowball's chance in hell he could be.
You rested your chin in your palm and stared out at the water. It was calming amidst your fiery thoughts. Plus, every day in recent memory had been sunny. A rainy day was inevitable.
One o'clock passed, then two, and then three. Somewhere in there you took your lunch break, though the whole day felt like one giant break. Still, you didn't feel too guilty because you had been working around the clock since early June. It was fun work, but by late July you didn't mind a light day at "the office".
When five o'clock rolled around and the rain remained, you threw up the hood on the light zip up sweatshirt you wore over jean shorts and hurried toward the little beach.
Rain seemed to come at you from all sides. Up, down sideways. You yanked the first canoe away from the lake's edge and dragged it back into the shed. And then you did the same with the second before beginning on the first kayak.
"Hey!" Joel's voice cut through the rain's elegant putter-patter and you whipped your head in his direction as he appeared out of nowhere from the path. A strand of wet hair stuck to your cheek with the sudden turn of your head.
"Hey!" You waved with a smile, suddenly not caring how wet you were.
"I'm sorry," he shouted, joining you immediately to help with the last two. "You could've waited for me. I would've helped."
You shrugged and began carrying the kayak with him. "I didn't do all that much today. I can handle it."
"Now all you need is a pina colada."
"What?" You asked with a laugh.
"The song, you know? If you like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain." Joel grinned wide and then shook his head as you both entered the little shack. "Sorry, bad dad joke I guess."
You laughed out loud. He was so cute. You loved his dad joke, and now that he explained, it was funny. "No, that was funny." You continued to grin at him and then the two of you sighed at the same time, eying the remaining kayak.
You made a move to run out to retrieve it but he stopped you. "I got it." Joel hurried out before you could protest and it didn't take long for him to return, dragging it in to the lone dry area.
And there he was again with his saturated t-shirt and baseball hat. Your eyes drank him in and you could tell he sensed it that time.
"Arts and crafts crowded?" You asked looking down toward the purple kayak by your feet.
"Yeah." He nodded. "We're going to postpone tonight's outdoor movie until tomorrow. Frank volunteered to deejay a dance party in the dining hall instead."
"That sounds fun." You smirked. "Do you need anyone to work it? Because-"
"Take the night off," Joel cut you off. "You've earned it. You've done a lot of extra hours here when you should've been doing.. whatever."
"Are you working it?" You but your lip when your eyes met and looked away from him just after.
Joel tapped the walkie-talkie that was attached to the waist of his cargo shorts. "On call. If something goes wrong I'll head over but otherwise, no. I'm just going to check in a few times."
"Well hopefully you can enjoy a quiet night in for a change, too."
"Yeah." Joel held your gaze and nodded.
"Yeah." You smirked again at him, wanting him so badly to invite you to his cabin. You knew he wouldn't, but you hoped he would anyway. A part of you wondered if he was thinking about it. Was it even remotely possible that Joel had even in the slightest interest in you?
Don't give yourself false hope, you warned your heart. On the same note, your mind searched for a reason to get him to your cabin.
A stray drop of water fell onto your forehead from the ceiling and you both glanced up. Right there, an idea was born. Was it a sign?
You made a little noise of disapproval. "I bet that one spot in my ceiling is leaking again." A lie. You felt bad but maybe, just maybe, it would draw him over.
"What spot in your ceiling?" His eyebrows pressed together with concern and you thought about coming clean. Lying wasn't something you liked to do, nor were you good at it. Still, what was the harm in a little white lie?
"The first week, I just got a little drip like this." You motioned to the ceiling as another drop bombarded you from above. "Nothing major. Just annoying." You used your fingertips to wipe the stay bead of rain away.
"I can take a look at it. It's only a quick fix but I have some of that spray that seals leaks, from that old infomercial. It works surprisingly well for a temporary fix."
"Are you sure?" Fuck, you felt bad but you were equally excited. Now you had to stage a leak.
Joel nodded. He seemed to be studying your expression. "Why don't you head back, get yourself dry and I'll be over in an hour. I just have to make sure Frank's all set for the dance and the chaperones are there on time. Set up some limbo games and whatever else."
Your heart was pounding. An hour. It would be the most anticipated hour of your life.
"Okay. Thank you. I appreciate it."
"You're welcome." Joel held your gaze and you finally looked away when you couldn't take it anymore.
"Go home," he echoed. "I'll lock up and I'll see ya in a bit."
"Okay. Are you sure?"
Joel nodded and shooed you with his hand, making you grin. You grabbed the drawstring bag you'd brought down and hurried through the rain back to your cabin.
When you got inside you could've shrieked with excitement but you held it together and told yourself to act like an adult. Twenty-two was a funny age. You weren't a kid but you also hadn't been around the block as much as someone like Joel had. That you were sure of, in every way imaginable.
Luck was on your side again. There actually was a small leak by the back door. You couldn't help but think the stars were aligning to some degree. Seeing that the leak had taken care of itself, you placed a small spaghetti pot beneath it on the floor and focused on getting yourself looking as cute as possible after a nice, warm shower.
#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal#the last of us#tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#joel x y/n#joel tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x f!reader#pedro pascal x you#pedrohub#pedro x reader#pedro x you#joel miller x oc#pedro fanfiction#reader x joel Miller#reader x Pedro pascal
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please gush about your passions and pastimes!!! I would love to hear about them
ack- im happy you want to hear about them!
Passions:
obvs as y'all know recently and just in gen., i guess, writing- i love crafting worlds and stories where anything can happen and just creating scenes above all else, like getting lost in the details of everything. I love getting lost in my own world and making myself happy as most self-indulgent writers do (and showing off my legitimate skill in a proper form of writing after doing shitpost-y things for so long is pretty rejuvenating, XD). And upon going back to some of my older, posted works and wips, I still laugh at the dumb shit I thought was the best stuff ever and now find myself giving those ideas a refresher like my last writing update, because it's still a legitimately enjoyable read.
i love sketching for similar reasons, but more so to visualize a fuzzy, almost-there idea, usually about fashion. Like recently I re-drafted some outfits for a fic idea I had, in order to make the world and designs make sense in my head. And I redesigned an existing outfit, running with certain themes and embellishments in design. I'm so happy I can churn out simple sketches like that when i really put my mind to it and feel content with the finished product nowadays. I feel accomplished as a hobby artist now and it's all thanks to heavy online research, a few how-to books, and putting effort into one art class. It's the second hobby of mine that I want to be good at, almost as much as my writing. Speaking of, I sometimes draw what I write or dream about because it's that prominent in my head.
Wow i love music guys- ha, but you already knew that *lenny face*
Past times:
I really like playing the simpler games in life- not as much in the vein of it being less difficult or busy, but more so with fewer controls, interesting mechanics, and a captivating style that I can easily fuck around in or beat some levels for a few hours. Bring on the (spider) solitare (only 4 suit sucks ass why do i do this to myself), jewel quest (FUCK YOU CROWS), barbie's fashion show (SINGLE DREAM-), zoo tycoon (fuck guest happiness), and sonic adventure or x-men of course.
MMD vids are v neat, like I know a handful of choreos that are fun as past midnight exercises to get my blood pumping and i get to discover new songs and learn more about other languages at the same time! Also the aph as mmd crack vids are the best whether its them making 'i hate this' or 'yeah im hot shit' faces or being completely into it as they're forced to dance or simply copying a vine. Like, they give me brainrot and serotonin at the same time its so fun. I love seeing all the different outfits for mmd vids in general, too, on top of new covers i never would've known about.
I really love analyzing things in general, actually. It's how I learn most of the things I do and know now, even though it technically causes me to lose large chunks of time because all i'm doing is staring at the damn thing, XD. Sometimes (all the time) I'll look at a gif or vid of a character changing their facial expression as they do/say something and I'll be completely enthralled by it. Something similar happens when I stare at REALLY GOOD artwork. I think it's the technical part of my brain trying to figure out the individual elements which make up whatever that thing is, like what facial muscles are being used to convey that emotion or mix of them, what the character is feeling, how the lighting or shading of the environment or extra details in editing affects said expression, etc. And for art, I'm thinking of the lines, posture, composition, object placement, color palette, negative space, tone, and all that jazz you learn from studying art.
Scrapbooking is a fun pastime for me that's extended from celebratory cards to actual gifts to my personal sketchbooks. It's part of the "creating something out of nothing/seeing what you can create with some basic templates and decorations" kind of mindset. And it makes me happy because I get to be creative and my family members and friends (even my employer) love them as part of their gifts every time and come to expect it from me each holiday, so I'm constantly encouraged to do it in the best way. I've recently kinda gone overboard on using ribbons and charms for the spiral and stickers and washi tape for the actual book itself on my sketchbooks, but I find myself wanting to draw in it more because I did that, lol.
I love rewatching the things I love. I usually have the same commentary about it, but its nonetheless enjoyable. And I never know what new thing I'll discover about it next, even if i've seen it over 50 times and only have it on as background noise and don't actually watch it. And yes, I will easily let something play on repeat at least that many times in my lifespan as well (like, a full day of it, at least).
wow i love staring at characters im attracted to for hours on end can i get a HUYEA-
#ask for moi#im glad your interested- truly. made my day! *happy tears*#people who like this word vomit have my upmost respect
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study session, sex songs
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❥ armin x reader | nsfw | 2.3k words
❥ content: semi public sex, vaginal fingering, a sex tape
❥ a/n; an ask i got that i took an ss of and then tumblr deleted my asks, but i HAD to do this🙄!!!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2ef62425e6606e24fb7404a124d817d5/bd8b72ac04660a47-01/s540x810/4ab9d97bbf82ae391d16fe7dbece5c61f955deea.jpg)
you were bored.
you were so bored that the sound of the rain drops hitting the window next to you was almost a form of entertainment, or maybe the shuffling of people trading books on the shelf.
at this point anything was better than the piece of paper and book in front of you. you had been staring at the words so long that they were all the same. you were rereading the same sentence over and over again, and aimlessly sketching small drawings on the paper in front of you.
studying wasn't your strong pursuit, especially with your boyfriend next to you, who seemed to love it. at the thought of him, your eyes glanced over— a sight for sore eyes when you had been staring at chemistry notes for the past half hour.
a pencil was dancing on paper in between his slender fingers, jumping with every lift of his hand and coming back down to the white sheet like a figure skater on ice. he wore glasses to study, large frames sitting on the bridge of his nose, his hair so close to touching them. those same blonde locks almost hid the earphones that were snug in both ears, and you wondered if whatever he was listening to is what helped him study so diligently. his tongue stuck out just a little bit in concentration, while his eyes flit back and forth between the paper in front of him and the book above it.
he must've been watching you watch him, his attention turning towards you and the mechanical pencil coming to a quick halt mid sentence. he set it down to the table gently, and you lifted yourself off of the surface to balance your head on the palm of your hand. "armin." a whine of his name, clear discontent laced in your voice.
"yeah?" his reply was so simple, so innocent. as if he didn't drag you to the library with him, practically pleading for you to just sit down and study with you knowing you hated studying, especially in the atmosphere of a library. there were too many distractions and you weren't comfortable. not to mention the fact that you were clad in a skirt.
"i can't study, can we just go?" his expression didn't change at the sound of your complaints, eyes still calm and lips still together in a line. you didn't want to come in the first place, he should at least give you the liberty of leaving when you asked— especially considering how long you had been in the quiet library.
"do you think listening to something will help?" armin's eyebrows came together as his hand came to point at the earphones in his ear. you really didn't want to stay, but when you thought about the focus your boyfriend was in that you broke you did feel a little bad.
your legs shifted from under the table and you sat back in your seat, crossing your arms in your lap and letting out a sigh, eyes traveling around the vast library. when they landed back on armin the earbud was already sitting pretty between his fingertips. it was glaring at you and you were glaring at it, but nevertheless you leaned forward and plucked it from armin's fingers, his lips upturning when you did.
he slipped his hands in his pockets to fumble with his phone and you picked up the pencil in front of you to try and get back to studying, checking to see what page armin was on while you waited for the music to play in your ears. what music was armin into anyways? the last thing you could remember him listening to being a spotify playlist full of lo-fi beats.
only... it wasn't lo-fi beats that began to play.
or music.
your body went rigid, pencil in your hand beginning to feel heavy, leaving you to wonder how it hasn't clattered to the table yet. a chill ran down your spine because what you were listening to was all too familiar— from the wet sounds that happily made its way into your ear, to a moan of armin's name that sounded much too like your own voice.
it was your voice, because when you heard another moan it was armin's cry of your name.
it took you a minute to turn your head towards armin, his eyebrows raising over his eyes in question of what you could possibly want now. he hummed a small "hm?" to figure it out, as if it wasn't obvious. that look of innocence was played by him again, blue eyes twirling with curiosity as if there was anything to be curious about. as if your sex tape wasn't a reason for you to look at him funny— eyes blown and mouth agape.
when you didn't respond— only still staring at him dumbfounded, he shrugged his shoulders and continued to scribble on his stupidly neat paper.
were you hearing things right?
your eyes flashed, brows knit as you shoved armin's shoulder, his pencil flying off the paper and messing up the "e" he was in the midst of writing. "you messed up my paper." he grumbled, and oh, was he a little too good at this game he was playing with you.
"what is this?" you questioned, disregarding the flimsy sheet of paper he was writing on because that was clearly the least of his issues.
armin used his pencil to point to your book, confusion taking over the once curious look he had just moments ago. "...a study session i would assume." he wasn't letting up, and your lip twitched at his response.
"no— i mean what am i listening to?"
"well, out of everybody you should know." your body stiffened again, a slow blink at his response that came out almost too smoothly, words sliding off his tongue like silk. you had to pull your gaze away from him as he only did just what he did earlier, going right back to studying like there wasn't anything off about the moment you were sharing.
if he wanted to play with you, you'd just have to join in his game.
so with a huff of breath, and the lewd noises that were still playing in your ear you turned your body back towards your notes in front of you and tried to read them over again. your name was the only thing comprehendible on the sheet, every word below it a jumbled mess.
"light wave... light waves, diffraction pattern..." you spoke slowly, reading as if you were back in the first grade.
your hands moved down from the textbook and to the paper in front of you, nimble fingers forming words on the paper that you could only hope would make sense when you'd read them back.
diffraction pattern - occurs only
"only who?"
"only you fuck me like this, armin, please!"
the tail of your y went a little too low, and your legs turned to jello, squeezing together when you heard your voice swim through your ears. blood was rushing to your cheeks, and you leaned closer to your book, burying your nose in it despite not actually reading what was on the pages— at least well. with a suck of breath you continued to write,
diffraction pattern - occurs only you fu
your eyes shot open mid sentence, and you scrambled to spin the pencil around until the eraser met the paper, erasing what you had written furiously, and you swore you heard a small chuckle leave armin's lips, you biting your own and scrunching your nose up at your pitiful mistake.
your hands came up to rub at your temple, the sound of a moan armin drawled from you a couple nights ago was what you heard next, and it might’ve sounded nice those nights ago, but now it was embarrassing.
you squeezed your eyes shut, much like your legs and as flustered as you were you couldn’t help but feel... aroused.
it was something about hearing armin fuck into you so nice. the way that even though there was no visual for you to look at, you could visualize the moment so clearly— so vividly, because the more you listened the more you could remember making the tape, remembering what happened during the tape.
armin’s hands had slid up your back, a handful of your hair being grasped by his hand, a sinful arch being created by your back, and you let out a choked whimper, that you didn’t even realize you reciprocated in real life.
armin’s head slowly turned to you and his lips were forming a sick grin, and you would’ve been mad if you didn’t want him so bad, if you didn’t want every moment you could hear to stop being the past and become the present, the very moment that was playing in your ear to play out in front of you.
a whine, a pleading look on your face; eyebrows turned upwards and your hips grinding down into the chair below you.
armin could’ve almost laughed if he wanted to, and he almost did when your hand slid into his lap to grab his and pull it to the hem of your skirt, the fabric brushing lightly against his fingertips, but he didn’t push forward.
“armin,” his name never sounded so nice on your tongue, never sounded so desperate. your grip on his wrist tightened and urged him forward, and so he let them slip under the soft fabric of your skirt, and even past the band of your underwear, and the closer he inched towards your aching cunt the wider your legs spread for him.
his finger felt cold against your clit when he touched it, rubbing small circles right away, and your face looked like it was melting at his touch, your body was melting at his touch.
and he was being kinder than expected— letting his fingers dip down further until your slick allowed for him to enter into you, your body shivering at his touch, at the stretch.
your head fell forward onto the table with a louder than expected bang, and it caused both you and armin to jolt, the people around you stirring a bit.
you didn’t care too much, but armin did, his fingers stilling and his eyes going back to his textbook, eyes darting back and forth between the words as if he was really reading them, and you wanted to give him a prize for best actor right then and there.
“shh.” he said without looking your way, but his fingers began to move again, and you tried your best to not let out a moan. “gotta be quiet if you want me to fuck you with my fingers... this is what you want right?”
the sound in your ears were practically drowned out by your thoughts, by the squelches of your juices being moved around by armin’s middle finger, by the sounds that only you could hear— and maybe armin if he listened enough.
“yeah... i want it.” the small pants that were leaving your parted lips, and they only increased when armin inserted a second finger, his hand making itself comfortable in your underwear, fabric harshly rubbing against his pale hand with every thrust of his digits into your pussy. “want it so bad.”
you looked like a dog, a puppy in its heat, pushing your hips forward to get him deeper into you, but it just wasn’t enough.
you were needy and needed more, so your own hand smoothed down to your clit and you began to rub circles, whimpering at the sensation, the pleasure flooding through your lower half, almost making you dizzy.
hell, you were dizzy— drunk even; drunk on the lust that was twirling in your pretty head, and drunk on armin’s fingers— it was like the way his hand moved when he wrote notes, moving precisely and ease.
his fingers fucked up into you, curling when they were deep enough, and making your body lurch forward. “again.” you needed to feel that again. the fingers on your clit went a little faster, because you knew you were close. “again.”
and he did it again, hitting that spot that made you clench around him, and he kept doing it, and your fingers kept moving, you were progressively getting louder, but it didn’t matter as you were getting closer to coming as well.
and you did, body tensing up and every nerve in your body pinching, mouth dropped open and eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hand came to hover just over your mouth just in case any sound left you.
you slumped over onto the table, pulsing around armin’s fingers but your own slipping out of your skirt and onto the space of the chair your legs made.
armin finally let out a stupid small laugh, his soaked fingers finally leaving your sloppy cunt and entering his mouth, tongue twirling around your release. it was a shame you weren’t looking.
you could hear it though, the obnoxiously loud slurping sounds he made and the hum of content he made before popping his fingers out his mouth. what you couldn’t hear was the tape. it must’ve stopped in the middle of armin fingering you.
and you also heard the slide of armin’s chair against the floor of the library, the sound of a book cover meeting it’s back, and the shoving of books into a bag.
armin looked over his shoulder with a bored expression, one that was eerily similar to the look you had given him just earlier when you were bored of studying.
your eyes met his; eyes still calm and lips in a line once more... “i can’t study anymore. let’s just go.”
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#armin arlert x reader#armin x reader smut#armin x reader#armin arlert x reader smut#armin aot#armin arlert#shingeki no kyoujin x reader#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#armin arlert x you#armin x you#armin arlert x y/n#armin x y/n
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You Say the Whole World’s Ending (Honey, It Already Did) [P.P]
Summary: Peter mourns his greatest loss.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Character death, angst, typos, throwing up
a/n: hi! i’m genuinely so sorry for how sad this is lol. i had to write this idea down before i forgot it. that one bo burnam song really got me :( here it is if you want to hear it! hope you enjoy and as always reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! ok. back to my hiatus :)
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“Today, the world mourns the loss of one of the most innovative teens in existence,” The news reported stated with tears in her eyes, “Last night, (Y/N) Stark was found dead after going missing for three months. The cause of death has not yet been disclosed and her family asks for privacy during this time of grieving. The world shares in this pain, and I believe I speak for all of us when I say, (Y/N), you will be missed.”
The clouds muddled over the compound, creating a darkness that sheathed over the building while the rain pittered over the roof and windows. As cliche as it was, Pepper and Tony provided black umbrella to all the guests at the graveyard. Together they huddled over the casket with their umbrellas, attempting to keep the rain off of the perfect mahogany the best they could.
Morgan clung to her mothers leg and scratched at her neck, uncomfortable in the pearls she was forced in, too young to understand what she had just lost. Tony kept his arm around Pepper, trying to hold on to what family he had left, begging whatever god was out there to give him respite from his pain.
Pepper gripped her umbrella with an iron fist, recalling when she first met you. Small and shy as you were, you quickly warmed up to her as she showed you to your room.
“Is this her?” Pepper asked as you cowered behind Tony’s leg, a small backpack hung loosely on your shoulders.
“Yeah,” Tony nodded with a proud smile, “this is (Y/N).” Tony bent down, motioning for Pepper to join him as she greeted you with a warm smile. “This is Pepper, (Y/N),” Tony placed a hand on your shoulders, “she’ll help watch you when I’m away.”
You nodded and held your hand out to her. Pepper grasped it in her perfectly manicured fingers and held it tightly, “I think we’ll be good friends,” she smiled, giving your fingers a sweet kiss.
Pepper not only lost her daughter; she lost her best friend as well.
Peter couldn’t even go. May begged him to go, trying to pull him out of the rut he’d been in for the last three months. She did the best she could, but deep down she knew. She knew all too well the pain of losing your soulmate, and as young and naive as Peter was, he still managed to find that in you.
Peter felt hopeless. He had held out hope for months, thinking that by some miracle you;d get to come home. That you’d walk through the door and run up to him, pulling him into your warmth and smashing your soft lips onto his. Every night he dreamed of you. Your laugh and your jokes. The way you scrunched your nose when he said something stupid, but then laughed along with him. The way you’d ruffle his hair as he laid in with his head nuzzled in your chest. The way you’d rush into school so fast, you nearly knocked him over when you found him. Those dreams, or more so, memories kept him going. And now he had nothing.
He was stuck in a world without you. And at a certain point, he wondered if it was even worth living in. He was wrong. He used to think that good things happened to good people, but he was wrong. You were as good as it got and you still ended up in the ground.
“Peter,” Sam said from the other side of the call, “you gotta come to the compound.” He hung up before Peter could even get a word in, but when he arrived at the building, he understood why.
Sam met him at the door, tears crusted around his dark eyes, and the look he gave Peter evoked immediate dread.
Peter could hear Pepper’s screaming sobs from inside. The cries of all the Avengers filtered through his ears into his head like nails on a chalkboard. And as unsettling as it was, he knew.
Sam guided him through to the medbay, and part of him secretly hoped he was wrong. It wasn’t until he held your cold hand in his overly warm ones that it hit him. And then the screaming started.
“No,” Peter murmured as the tears began dancing around in his vision, “no, no, no.” Peter shook his head, “I-It’s not her.” He said, but it was more of a terrible wish he put out into the universe, “please, it’s not—no. She’s strong—stronger than that, she wouldn’t—I-I don’t understand.”
Peter whipped his head around and the whole team could see the tears uncontrollably flowing out of his eyes as he heaved. The hyperventilating, mixed with the cries of everyone else in the room was making him nauseous. Before he could properly process what was going on he was running to the window, throwing it open and spewing brown goo out into the yard.
Happy ran over and rubbed his back and shoulder, “It’s okay, Pete. Come on now, breathe.”
Peter screamed and heaved out sobs as more brown chucks spilled from his lips. When he was done, he collapsed into Happy and the large man wrapped his arms around Peter’s shaking frame.
“I–It’s not true,” Peter begged, “Happy—” he pleaded, only to be shushed.
“I know,” Happy cried, “I know it’s hard, Peter. But you have to calm down.”
Tony, having just lost his daughter, saw Peter’s breakdown and left the room. Pepper by his side, drawing her cries out in his t-shirt.
“H-How can I?” Peter wailed, “I want her back, I want her back! (Y/N)!” Peter crawled out of Happy’s embrace, up the bed that held your limp frame. He tugged on the sheet that Bruce had put over your head, ripping it to expose your beautiful face.
“No,” Peter cried, sloppily running his hands over your face, “no, (Y/N).” Peter rubbed his thumbs under your eyes and held his cheek against yours, only feeling the icy prick of your skin on his, “come on, please get up, please. I-I had so many things to tell you. I had s-so much left to—I—I never got to marry you, (Y/N), please. Please d-don’t leave.”
Every watery plea was only met with a painful silence on your end. The only sounds to accompany the dreadful silence were the wails coming from the boy’s mouth.
And now he was here, sitting alone in his room, on the same bed you used to cuddle him in. If he tried really hard, if he focused enough he could still smell the lavender shampoo you used. It was such a little comfort, but it was all he had.
May accompanied Happy to the funeral, letting him rest his head on her as the tears flowed from his eyes.
“She was so special,” Happy recalled with a sniffle, “so special.”
“Yeah,” May whispered, swallowing her own sob, “in more ways than one.” She placed her yellow rose on the casket, blowing a little kiss to it with a small prayer, thank you. Thank you for being Peter’s love.
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✧tags & moots✧ @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug @waitimcomingtoo @rosyparkers @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx @celestialholland @hollandcrush @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @asonofpeter @westcoastcigar @arlo-sanders @love-peterparker @boiolay @letssee2468 @white-wolf1940 @fandom-life-12 @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @miseryholland @wierdteenagenerd @duskholland @hollandprkr @lauras-collection @arvinsescape @hollandsrecs @worldoftom
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker angst#tom holland#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland peter parker#spiderman x reader#tom holland spiderman#peter parker fic
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On the Run
Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part
On the Run Part 29
Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female!Reader
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut, Stalker ex, Scenes of abuse, Angst, Violence, Death
You stared Joseph down dead in the eyes, trying the best you could to avoid Bishop’s wounded gaze. You were in full bargaining mode now. You didn’t want to do this reveal here, not like this. You couldn’t go through the pain and confusion while you were trying to get everyone safely out from the mess you’d created.
“Sweetheart, what’s he talking about?”
The pet name stuck through your gut like a knife, twisting through you as Joseph laughed all the harder. This couldn’t be more entertainment for him if you’d tried. This was a full blown soap opera for him.
“Yeah, sweetheart. What am I talking about?” Joseph grinned.
“Joseph,” you croaked. “Please.”
“Oh not this again,” he mocked. “I thought we were past the ‘Joseph Please’ phase. I thought you’d grown a backbone.”
He sauntered out of the spot he was standing in and walked toward Bishop, looking down at him with what almost looked like pity. It made your heart leap as he got closer to your boyfriend, as his shadow loomed over Bishop’s face and his head tilted thoughtfully. He looked down on him like a cat might look at a struggling mouse that it had pinned under its paws.
“Joseph I’ll go back with you, I’ll cook and clean and fuck you and do every little thing you ask me. Just leave him alone,” you cried out.
“Jesus. I haven’t even touched him and you’re just throwing yourself at me,” Joseph spat. “You should be keeping your cards back, darlin’. You don’t have many to play. What do you think old man? Can you believe the mouth on this girl? You still want her?”
“She’s just saying whatever it takes to get you to leave me alone, fucker!” Bishop growled out.
You froze as you waited for an impending hit, but it never came. Instead your twisted ex boyfriend just continued to look down at him until he burst out in full on laughing fit. He shook his head and settled his hand on Bishop’s hair before twisting his fingers through Bishop’s curls and tanking his head up, drawing out a groan as the biker tried to adjust to sharp tugging.
“My thoughts exactly, my man. My thoughts exactly.”
He released Bishop, letting him flop back into the beefy guys arms before brusquely turning and stalking toward you. You flinched, waiting for him to come up and hit you, but instead he dropped to the sofa next to you and wrapped his arms around you. His crushing embrace didn’t help your body any, it just added to the overwhelming tension that was knotted deep in your muscles. It only crushed the air out of you further.
“Oh, just imagine Y/N. Imagine if you were still the sweet little girl I met in New York. We wouldn’t have to do this little song and dance. We could’ve just continued to live in domestic bliss. But you had to have things the hard way.”
“Y/N?” Bishop murmured, considering your name for the first time.
You looked over at him, taking in his big brown eyes as they filled with sorrow and confusion. Now he knew for sure that you weren’t who you said you were. You gulped as you tried to find some kind of explanation, you opened your lips trying to talk, but you could only let out a floundering choked sob. Tears were working their way down your cheeks once more, spilling onto Joseph's arms. You’d dreamed of the way Bishop would say your name if he really knew it. Dreamed of him saying it the way he said Sophia, but now everything had changed. You wish you could take it back, that he never knew at all.
“Mhmm. Your girl’s been lying to you Bishop. Her name’s not Sophia, In fact I think that’s the name of your mom’s friend isn’t it, Y/N? The one that came round with sooo many dishes when you disappeared, trying to get all the gossip straight from the source. You know I figured out your little pattern of taking names from your old life and I just didn’t even consider her. Doesn’t seem like your mom likes her all that much…Why don’t you tell Bishop your real name? Your proper name.”
You looked up at Joseph pathetically, shaking your head like a scared child. You didn’t want to have to admit it. The moment you said it out loud was the minute Bishop was in on everything. Your lip wobbled and soon Joseph was completely obscured as you let out full blown sobs.
Then he said it. Your full name.
You froze completely, gazing up at him wordlessly. You didn’t dare look over at the spot Bishop was, but you could tell by the wicked grin plastered all over Joseph's face that your name had hit him like a ton of bricks. For a moment longer you sat there locked up in your own thoughts until you heard a roar and were tossed to the other side of the couch.
You scrambled and watched as Bishop launched himself out of the grip of the man holding him and went to attack Joseph. He almost got a punch in until Joseph evaded his sloppy hit and landed a punch of his own. Bishop, although weakened, didn’t go down though. He stood resolute and hit back once more, landing a hit squarely on Joseph's chin, making him loudly cry out.
You could only watch on with horror as Bishop was taken down by one of the men behind him, his legs swept from underneath themselves. Joseph recovered from the punch and growled, determined to get his revenge. He gave Bishop a swift kick in the ribs, one so brutal you swore you could hear a crunch. He was screaming in agony, writhing on the floor like a wounded animal.
You gasped as you watched on, fueled by fear as you finally acted. You made your way to the kitchen, rolling off of the couch arm that you’d been thrown against and backing away slowly. It felt like your steps were thundering and crackling in your ears, but you hadn't been noticed yet. All the men had their eyes trained solely on Bishop as you drew back against the soft plastic. Your back hit the doorframe all with a soft thud.
“Put the gun back on him,” Joseph shouted.
Bishop tried to sit up and attack again, absolutely howling with pain now, but was quickly brought back down again with the butt of the MP5. Only for the gun to be trained back on him afterward. It gave Joseph the assurance he needed, allowing him to turn his attention back to the spot you’d once been only to be met with shock when you weren’t there.
He searched around the room, clearly surprised that you’d moved. When his eyes finally landed on you they widened to twice their size. He’d been expecting a fight out of you that day, sure. Though he wasn’t prepared for you to be aiming an MP5 squarely at his chest. He almost looked impressed as he took you in. Someone particularly scrutinising might say turned on.
“Well shit, darlin’. Now ain't that a sight.”
“Let him go,” you demanded, voice shaking more than you’d have liked.
“Hm…No.”
You gawped, not expecting his answer. You had a gun pointing straight at him for crying out loud. You braced the gun against you for effect, preparing yourself for the kick back. Though still Joseph didn’t move, didn’t even blink as you pointed it at him. He acted like you were directing a microphone his way.
“You know…My ears might be a little fucked at this point in my career. I’ve been playing around with guns like that for years after all, so it's only natural. However, I’m fairly confident I didn’t hear you load a round into the that chamber. You’re more likely to hurt yourself with that thing than you are me, silly girl.”
You glared at him, feeling your heart clench as you took in the information. He was right you had no idea what you were doing. In fact you’d just assumed the gun would be ready to fire, you didn’t realise you had to actually do anything with it. You paused for a second considering your options and watching as Joseph cocked his head, willing you to do something.
Fuck it.
You put the gun down and started to walk toward him, eliciting a smile as you did so. In his mind you were being his good girl. You were going to give him the gun and continue to play along. You took a few measured steps, raising your arm as if you were about to hand it over, but in the last second you drew back and lugged it as hard as you could. Maybe you couldn’t shoot, but you could throw.
The gun acred through the air and hit the skinny man with the gun on bishop squarely on the head with a loud crack. Joseph whipped round, watching as his man crumpled to the ground below, dropping his gun in the process and giving Bishop the chance to wriggle over from his spot on the floor and grab a gun for himself, wheezing out. The movement clearly hurt but he worked through the pain, aiming the gun at the big man.
“Bishop shoot!” You screamed.
He was already firing as you cried out. He took out the big man with five shots, about to turn the gun on Joseph before he was stopped in his tracks. Joseph had produced a gun of his own from behind his back, shooting Bishop in the arm before he could fire again. Bishop roared out and was forced to drop the gun again, slamming back down on the floor groaning and sputtering in pain.
You ran to his side, ignoring everyone else in the room and sank to your knees, feeling the plastic crinkle under you as you dropped. Bishop’s skin was soaked with sweat and blood and as you saw him up close you could finally see all the bruises and cuts that littered his weathered face. You grasped at his shoulder, looking around you panicked for something to cover the wound with, too preoccupied to think of anything else.
Another shot rang out, whizzing just passed your ears, drawing out a sharp scream and making you jump out of your skin. You whipped your head up at Joseph as he scowled at you, eyes looking darker than they’d ever looked before. His arm was straining as he aimed the gun straight at Bishop’s head, his finger was shaking on the trigger. He looked ready to shoot.
“You never give up do you?” He screamed. “You claim you wanna do whatever I say and then you go and do shit like that. You were always such an ungrateful little bitch you know that? I was gonna rough your boyfriend up a little, well not a little, I was gonna make sure he never walked again. I was gonna leave him alive though. I figured I’d prove a point and let you come back with me, but you know what? There’s no domesticating a little bitch like you!”
You cried out and sobbed as he ranted, clutching at Bishop beneath you as you tried to cover his head. At least if you were going to die you would die first, you wouldn’t have to watch the light leave Bishop’s eyes. It was the last comfort you had left as you admitted defeat and waited for death to take you. Shutting your eyes tight and breathing shallow breaths as you listened to Bishop crying out below you. He kept trying to tell you to move but his breaths were too ragged to make out his words properly.
This was it, this was the end.
“Any last words you little cu-”
A loud thundering shot rang out. And then another. You froze, half expecting to be entering the pits of hell after everything you’d put everyone through. Though the heat of the fires never touched you. You waited a second longer before you gulped, looking down at Bishop only to see him with the same shocked expression as you, still breathing and still hanging on for life.
You frowned, looking over to the spot that Joseph had been standing only to see thin air. You gasped, lost for words. What happened? You were just about to get up and investigate before the front door crashed open and suddenly the room was filled with Mayans. You fell to the ground again and looked back at Bishop as he grimaced, attempting to smile as his men filled the room.
“Presidente!”
“I’m alright,” Bishop seethed, his words barely coming out through the din of the men.
“Like hell you are!” Hank growled.
Hank ran over to you both followed closely by EZ, both men sank down right next to you as they crowded Bishop. They attempted to figure out his injuries, wincing as they caught sight of the bullet wound in his arm. Ez ripped up his shirt, using the scraps to patch up the wound. You could only watch on wordlessly, still holding Bishop’s head in your lap.
“You don’t look good, Bish,” Hank said lowly, looking between his president and you with scrutinising stares.
“I’ll be ok…I just need- ugh. Watch it golden boy,” Bishop growled.
“Sorry! I just- I gotta make sure this is tight,” EZ apologised, holding his hands up as he finished his work.
“We gotta get you to a hospital, man.”
“No! I-” Bishop protested, interrupted by Hank’s hand on his shoulder.
“Shut up. Sophia, what happened to him?” Hank growled.
The use of your fake name only made Bishop grumble more. It drew you out of your shellshock slowly and made you gulp as you stared down at Bishop’s hard, glaring eyes. You took them in for a minute, lost in thought, until Hank grabbed your shoulder and held it tightly.
“Stay with us here, what happened.”
“J- J- Joe - he uh- he I think he… he kicked his ribs and I guess he- he hit him over the head with a gun,” you whimpered, sputtering out what little explanation you could.
Hank nodded at you, trying to give you a reassuring look. It was clear you were falling apart. That explanation was enough though. Gilly and Riz approached with a stretcher and all at once they took Bishop from underneath you and loaded him onto it, ignoring his protests as they carried him off.
You stayed there stuck in place for a moment until they disappeared from sight and out front, past the rest of the Mayans as they began to clean up. You stood up on shaking legs, feeling like a newborn foal as you got to your feet and looked over to where Joseph had been only moments before. When he was going to end your lives. It didn’t help to think about it as you tried to steady yourself, it only made you want to crumble down again.
He was there on the ground, just splayed out where he had been standing barely a few seconds ago, his head was pooling with crimson blood. There was a fleshy hole right through where his left eye should have been. It didn’t seem real. It looked cartoonishly fake. You tilted your head, staring at him a minute longer, expecting him to spring up, expecting him to laugh it off and restart his assault, but he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. He was dead now, the light had left his other eye and his body laid stiffly on the ground. It was the kind of thing you’d only seen on forensics shows.
Shot by a sniper.
You shrieked as you felt a hand on your back and whirled round with an enclosed fist, preparing to fend off your new attacker. Your wrist was grabbed before you could do anything and you were drawn into the arms of a familiar giant biker. You shook for a second, about to scream at Angel for scaring you like that, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to tell him off. Instead you just relaxed into his arms and cried as you breathed in as you curled your face into his shirt, picking up the tobacco laced earthy scents even through your sobs.
“Shh, Y/N,” he whispered, too low for anyone else to hear. “I got you, querida. You don’t have to look at that. You don’t have to look at him ever again.”
You didn’t really register his words properly. You just cried pathetically into his shoulder, standing there for what felt like an eternity before Angel convinced you to start moving. He kept his big arms fastened around you as he swivelled you and directed you forward, encouraging you to walk. It all felt too soon, it was too sudden. Though you didn’t have a choice.
“We gotta go before the cops get here,” he explained. “The others have to grab him- the body.”
You didn’t really pay attention to his words. You just followed along like a small child as he tugged you gently toward the door and out into the blazing sunlight. The stark light caught you off guard, seering your eyes as you were hustled into a car. Despite all the darkness of the day, the horrors you had seen, you were still bathed in brilliant sunshine. You could already feel the blood beginning to crust over your skin as the heat radiated off of you.
“Holy shit, are you ok?”
You snapped your eyes into the car, peering into the darkness and finding Olivia in the back seat furthest from you. Angel gently nudged you, encouraging you to sit next to her. You allowed him to help sit you down and buckle you in before he shut the door with a gentle click. You followed him with your eyes as he walked around the car and got into the drivers seat. He caught your eyes in the mirror before he moved off and tried to give you a reassuring half smile before he jammed the keys into the ignition and sped away, hoping to get you from any suspicious eyes.
“Please let me know you’re alright,” Olivia said worriedly, gently grasping your hand.
You closed your eyes. Sighing out tiredly.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, rubbing on your sore and puffy eyes.
Your cheeks were covered in the remnants of salty tears and splattered plasma, it irritated your skin and only upset you further as you tried to piece together a coherent thought. Images were flashing in your mind, your skin was burning, you smelt blood and rot and your stomach bubbled with acid that threatened to climb its way up your throat. Everything was too much. It was all too much.
You were still alive! How was this possible? Angel was driving you away and Olivia was there by your side attempting to comfort you. Your friends were here, they were ok. Everyone was still alive. How?
“How did you guys find me?” You asked breathlessly.
“I saw the address you typed in the bathroom mirror,” Olivia said smugly from your side. “I figured I’d let you think you were going off alone and then I told the guys. They gave you a little time to go so that Joseph’s guys would lower their guard and then they cleaned them all out and got the next address from them…They’re all dead, they can’t hurt you now.”
You took in what she said and smiled. Of course Olivia found a way to help you. With that last pleasant thought you felt yourself drift off. Your body had been through so much your brain shut down, making you pass out in the too hot back seat as you let one last thought permeate your mind. Please let Bishop be ok.
—
After being shuttled to Olivia’s place and sat on the couch you awoke to find yourself in almost darkness, bathed in the blue light of the TV as an old movie played quietly. The soft timbre of the voices tickled at your ears and lulled you into thinking that everything was alright until you finally came to your senses. Oh no.
You shot straight up and looked around completely confused. You had no idea where you were, who cleaned you up or who changed your clothes. All you knew was that you were lying in a sleep shirt with only your panties on and smelt like flowery body wash. That certainly wasn’t how you remembered leaving the house.
Your answers soon came when Olivia was bursting out of her room and charged toward you, pulling you into a tight squeeze. You didn’t realise it until she started shushing you, but you were wailing the place down like a banshee. Everything kept fading out for you, your senses dulled by overwhelming panic.
“Hey! Hey it’s alright. Shhh, its ok. I took you back to my place, its ok! You’re safe, you’re safe. Shhh,” she soothed, running a hand over your head as she attempted to comfort you.
Fresh tears made their way over your cheeks as your eyes searched around the room, sobs quieting down into panicked breaths. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but all you could think is that you couldn’t look Olivia in the eyes. You were too ashamed to do that. You’d hurt so many people, how could you possibly face her. You winced when you felt her draw her hands over your back, over where the glass had dug into you.
You could feel all of your injuries now. You swore you could still feel Joseph's hands all over you as well, his tongue as his mouth glided down your neck. It sickened you. You shivered and tore yourself from your friends arms, climbing to your feet all of a sudden. You jumped up like the couch was a live wire.
“Hey, where are you going?” she asked, watching you through concerned eyes.
You shook your head, you had no idea. You jumped again as you heard a sound behind you, wheeling round only to be greeted with Coco as he rubbed at his bleary eyes and ran a hand through his tangle of bed hair. He looked just as shocked to see you, coming out of Olivia’s room in nothing but boxers and a wife beater. He swore to himself and quickly dived over to a nearby chair, grabbing a blanket from it and wrapping it around himself.
On any other day you would’ve laughed at that. In fact you could feel a hesitant smile tugging at your lips even then. It distracted you for a moment at least, quietened your wails.
“My bad,” he mumbled.
“Don’t worry about it,” you breathed out, pausing for a second as you became lost in thought.
Suddenly it struck you that Coco was the only one missing from the house earlier that day. You were a little catatonic but you were aware enough to register that he wasn’t there, and finally the reason sprang to mind as you wiped at your tears with the back of your hand and tried to calm down. He had to be up on one of those hills you thought, laid low amongst the scrub. It made sense the more you thought about it, realising that he used to be a sniper.
“Was- Was that you?...That took the shot?”
“Yeah, it was me. I could see you guys through the window,” he said, training his eyes on you thoughtfully. “You know I’ve never seen anyone use a gun like that before.”
You felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment and looked away from him, cursing under your breath. He’d seen you tossing the gun at Joseph’s henchman.
“You saw all that?”
“Uh, huh. I had to wait till I had a clear shot at him before I could fire. I kinda thought you were gonna do the honours for me until you threw the gun away,” he smirked, clearly seeing more of the humour in the situation that you could.
“Ha. Ha. It’s not like I’ve ever had the need to fire a big gun like that, how was I supposed to know you need to- to- to…”
You strained as you tried to remember what Joseph had said.
“Slap the cocking lever back and load the bullet into the chamber,” Coco supplied, even doing a hand motion to show you what you should have done.
You stood there wordlessly, watching as he scrambled to pull the blanket back round himself after he’d let go of it.
“Right. That.”
“Thank god they don’t have the draft for women yet,” Coco mumbled under his breath.
“Hey!” Olivia called from behind him. “I think given the circumstances she did the best she could, Coco.”
“Uh-huh…at least Bishop was there,” he said, shaking his head.
You froze. Bishop. Coco tensed up, realising his mistake as he brought up a sensitive topic. You almost went into another crying fit again, but he shook his head, scrambling to appease you.
“No, no, it’s ok! He’s fine. He’s super pissed off, but he’s fine. They got him to a hospital a few miles out, Galindos on it. He’s not gonna be connected to any of the shit that happened today. It’s all being cleaned up as we speak,” Coco assured. “In fact, technically what happened today didn’t happen at all.”
You took in his words and nodded, trying not to hang on to the fact that Bishop was pissed off. This was good news. The club were gonna be ok, Bishop was gonna be ok. Everyone was ok. Sure, Bishop had worked out that you were your father’s child and had been lying to him about why you went to Santo Padre and the fact you knew about him. But that was ok right? Everyone was still alive.
“...He does have two broken ribs, a fractured leg and a concussion though.”
“Coco!” Olivia shouted again.
“A mild concussion.”
You crumbled down on the spot and wrapped your arms around your body. Everything was not fine. Even if everyone survived this was still a complete mess. Bishop was bound to be furious with you and you had no idea what to say to him. You loved him, you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go, but you knew Bishop wouldn’t feel the same. He was going to see you differently now.
As you lost yourself inside your head Olivia ran to your side and held you as Coco watched on awkwardly, receiving glares from Olivia in between her trying to care for you. You listened as Olivia continued to chant calming phrases at you and mutely watched as Coco stalked over to the fridge and fetched you a bottle of water, awkwardly holding it out as some kind of peace offering.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the water from him reluctantly.
You didn’t feel up to looking after yourself much, but Olivia and Coco weren’t going to give you a choice. They weren’t going to let you slip into insanity as you’d intended. Instead they encouraged you to drink and waited until your breaths calmed down until they said anything else.
“Look, why don't I get you a cold cloth and some tea and you can lay up on the sofa for a little bit. How does that sound?” Olivia asked.
You paused for a second before answering, realising it wasn’t actually a question.
“Ok. That sounds good.”
You let yourself be led back to the couch and sighed as Olivia bustled off to go look after you. You didn’t feel like you deserved it, but you didn’t have the strength to argue with her. Coco watched you through his intense gaze and eventually once he was sure Olivia was busy in another room and the roar of the kettle came to life he took a seat by you, rubbing your back.
“We talked to Adelita by the way. Pablo’s been dealt with,” he said lowly.
Your brain was so foggy you barely remembered who Pablo was. You looked at him through heavy lidded eyes until recognition dawned on you and your spine stiffened. You glared at the thought of the man that had sold you out, that had stopped you from ending Joseph before he brought all this hell down on Santo Padre.
“Good,” was all you could muster.
“You’re not gonna tell Bishop about any of that though, right?”
“Hell no…besides Bishop’s angry enough already,” you whispered. “He found out who I am. I don’t think I’m gonna get to stick around much longer, Coco.”
Coco’s brows raised and he thought for a second before letting out a sigh and looking away from you. He looked like he was ready to jump in the grave on your behalf.
“That’s uh- wow. Sorry to hear that. I wish I could tell you he wouldn’t try to send you away, but…even knowing Bish as well as I do I don’t actually know what he’s gonna say… but I can take you to see him tomorrow - when visiting hours are on.”
You nodded lamely and sighed, feeling all the pressure of the world washing over you.. Letting out a weary sigh, you tried not to think about the fact your body might collapse into a heap of shot nerves. Instead you tried to picture yourself and what you would say to Bishop, what could make things better.
Maybe you could pull a leaf out of Coco’s book. Maybe you could just say my bad and he’d move on from it…
Un-fucking-likely.
Next Part Here
——
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Okay so the other day I told this girl I had gone to art school for 5 years, and she went « oh that’s great, I’d love to know more about the theories of art! You see, I feel like I’m very uncultured and I can’t appreciate art properly because I’m not enough of an intellectual »
Now here comes my slightly angry rant, because I’ve heard this so many times. I used to be like this too, I used to think that ✨art✨ was this mysterious thing that was only accessible to the select few inTelLeCtUaLs who really *got it* because of their immense brain power. But after 5 years of bowing to their supposed intellectual prowess, you know what I learned?
It’s all bullshit. Whatever « conceptual art » tried to make everyone believe, art isn’t intellectual. And anyone who says so is a pretentious, talentless moron (believe me, I met quite a few of them). Art is emotion. Painting, drawing, sculpting, making movies, dancing, singing, writing poetry…. It’s all related to emotion. Expressing what you feel, what you wanna say but can’t put into words. Putting something out there because you *feel* like it. That’s what it’s all about. And if you wanna write a book about the theory of it, good for you. But no one should have to read it to appreciate art.
Please darlings, don’t feel intimidated and belittled by the pompous schmucks who pretend that they understand it better than you because they possess a ✨higher understanding✨ of art. They are *lying* to you and themselves. The concept isn’t prevalent to the feeling, and art cannot be explained rationally.
If you feel something while looking at a painting, then you appreciate it. Simple as that. ❤️
I get so excited every time I see an okay so ask come in askdfldj thank you for sending <3
so happy to see this attitude towards art!! I completely relate to the sentiment that art (and not just visual art - dance, music, writing, and on and on like you mentioned) is all about emotion and think it definitely works both ways - for creating art and consuming it
it reminds me a bit of learning to read and advancing on to longer and more difficult books; throughout elementary school I feel like there was a big emphasis on 'wow you read such a big book!' being somehow superior to 'you read a story you enjoyed!' which should be more the focus. they can totally overlap too, but yeah all the poems and stories and songs that I appreciate most are the ones that pull forward some emotion that's usually hidden or just at a resting baseline level. personally I forget to apply this to art sometimes so while I'm not super technical about why I might like a piece of art there are some where my reaction is 'nice I like this' and some where I'm strongly drawn in to some aspect or it makes me feel. and that's when I remember, when it elicits a strong reaction
"But no one should have to read [books on art theory] to appreciate art" - I wish I could highlight and underline this in your ask because this is so important. very much gives vibes of this part from parks and rec but on the side of 'a person should not have to have an advanced art degree to be able to engage with art in a meaningful way'
#excellent info dump / rant I love it! thanks for sharing <3#also even though you don't need an art degree to appreciate art it's so cool that you did go to art school!#i love learning tidbits like that#info dump hours#asks
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“who do you believe?”; l.h.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/56ba0436960aceed99be5789f61d6d0d/6168e33b532b0909-69/s540x810/0368da8b984a27ef93bce372f3f9f4951f81c0da.jpg)
Disclaimer: i didn’t want to write sierra as a bad person because i personally cannot see that, and i know there’s some discourse about her within in the fandom but i don’t want any of that here! so i named the girlfriend after a girl who bullied me in elementary school lol (but another disclaimer: i do not want to see any hate towards the boys’ s/o! pls don’t send any asks that talks bad about them, i will not answer them!)
thank you for requesting! :^)
a/n: while transfering this from microsoft word, the formatting kept screwing up for some reason so if there are some janky paragraphs, i apologize! not too comfortable with this one compared to my previous fic (this feels rushed) but it is long and i did not mean for that to happen lol. enjoy!
if there are any mistakes, please tell me!
pairing(s): not really a mention of luke hemmings x reader but it’s mostly luke hemmings x named gf (rachel/oc) (gender neutral but if i slipped up, please let me know!)
summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?
genre: angst, and mostly angst >:^)
warnings: swearing, luke’s gf being mean, bullying?
wc: 4,057 (she’s a long one)
my masterlist!
You don’t know when it happened, or frankly how it happened, but one thing is for sure: you don’t want to feel this way.
Was it when he bought you a stuffed animal version of a pet you had as a kid, one that you remember so fondly and still tear up about it to this day? Or was it when he would always bring back a certain candy you can only find in its country of origin, and bring as much as customs would allow? Maybe it was when he printed out every photo he could find from the beginning of your friendship to the present day (at that time) and made a scrapbook for your birthday since you cherish memories?
Whatever memory it was, you want to track it down and destroy it. It wasn’t fair that you developed such strong feelings for your best friend, knowing he doesn’t feel the same since he’s taken.
It’s not that he isn’t attractive – far from that because if anything, you wish you could draw just so you can draw him because there’s no way someone can look that good – but it’s more of the fact that he’s your best friend, someone you hold dear to you.
You two grew up together; saw each other’s worst phases, styles, and embarrassing moments (it was well documented towards the middle of the scrapbook). He was with you when you went through bad break-ups, and you with him. Throughout school, you two were inseparable, and when the band got big he made sure to keep you close and to never lose contact. It was hard in the beginning but you two managed.
Now finished with college, you’ve taken on the role of working with the team when they’re on tour and helping plan aesthetics for the next album. He offered the jobs after you struggled to find a job after graduation, and in the end, you enjoyed being with the guys and doing the tasks needed.
Tonight, the band was set to play their new album to an intimate crowd. It was to welcome back old fans and welcome new fans, introducing both sides to a new sound they worked hard on. You couldn’t be any more proud.
You sat on the couch as the guys walked around the room, pepping themselves up and hyping each other. You had finished doing your tasks with the crew and spent your free time watching the band prepare as the audience began to fill in the theater seats.
A nudge on your arm makes you direct your eyes from Michael styling his hair with a nervous expression to the person on your left.
“What’s up?” you asked, smiling at the curly-haired individual.
Luke shrugs, glancing around the room before his eyes land back on you. He has a small smile on his face as he leans back onto the couch, “Nothing.”
You scoff, shaking your head with a smile, “Yeah, sure, ‘nothing,’” you mimic, tilting your head to the side, “I doubt that.”
“What do you want me to say?”
You give him an incredulous look, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. You can tell he’s nervous, like the rest of the team and the band, but he won’t admit it. He’s always wanted others to view him as strong and unbothered, especially when those around him feel off.
He mirrors your position, a smirk on his lips because he knows you’re about to lecture him.
And he’s right.
“Your band has a new album out in a couple of days—an album you guys have worked hard on even when your management gave you shit, mind you—and you’re about to perform a majority of the songs in front of 500. Are you not nervous?”
He shakes his head, smugly smiling as he returns to his position leaning against the couch, watching Ashton dry the wet ends of his hair.
“Liar,” you mumble, uncrossing your arms and taking your phone out to check the time.
“Alright,” Luke sighs, giving in, “maybe I’m a little nervous, but I’m not a wreck.”
He’s still a liar. The success of their last album was astounding, so creating an album to reach that level and hopefully top it was hard enough. Playing it in front of an intimate crowd who may or may not like it was tough.
Luke isn’t cocky. He’s a humble man, but he likes to joke around in stressful situations. He’s used to concerts, so he doesn’t have any anxiety when it comes to performing. But when he is nervous for any reason, he won’t show it. He’ll act cool, completely collected with his head held high in confidence. If he needs to relieve the stress, he’ll either do it himself with a strong pep talk, or he’ll go to you.
“What are you nervous about?” You ask, wanting to make him feel better.
“Will they like it? Will it even chart? Is it too bold?” he continues listing out his insecurities about the album and the performance, finally lifting everything off his chest.
And you listen. The way his eyes stare into yours with slight confidence, covered by worry makes your heart sore. Luke’s kept everything inside and now that he’s listing his grievances, it makes you wonder just what else you can get out of him that he’s kept buried inside.
However, before you can give him your insight on this particular problem, “Luke!”
His head immediately turns to the door, the worry in his eyes fading out into sheer happiness and adoration. Something you’ve always wanted to see directed towards you.
Luke stands arms wide as he captures his girlfriend in his arms for a hug. Her arms wrap around his waist as his arms go around her shoulders, dipping his head down to kiss her on the head.
“I can’t believe you made it!” you hear him speak with excitement, expressing more words of happiness as he guides her to another part of the room.
You don’t miss the way her eyes glare in your direction, and you’re not afraid to give her a look back.
Rachel was nice when you met her. You actually liked her, despite your crush on Luke, and you were rooting for the two. But, a couple months ago during a stressful week, she turned on you. Her attitude towards you shifted, almost as if you had disrespected her and her bloodline. She would always act as if you weren’t in the room, and when plans were made with the boys, she would “accidentally” leave you out. It was embarrassing for you when you’d find out your friends went out, calling you to find out why you didn’t come. Due to the embarrassment, you would go along with it, making up some excuse as to why you were absent.
None of the boys, to your knowledge at least, have caught on to her antics, and you honestly hope they don’t. Whatever it is you did to her, you want to find out for yourself so you can fix it.
With a sigh, you stand from the couch, stretching your arms briefly before wandering to Calum, who stood in the shower room connected to the dressing room.
“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile.
He smiles back, finishing his drink before tossing the plastic cup in the trash. He grabs his bass, which was placed on the counter, and holds it out to you.
“You want me to see if it sounds out of tune?” you jokingly ask.
He nods, “Yeah, I feel like one of the chords might be flat.”
You chuckle as you pluck a random chord. His instruments are always tuned before it’s time to play. One of his pre-show nervous ticks was the constant doubt of his instruments being playable.
“It’s fine, Calum.”
The doubt shows on his face as he brings his guitar back to himself, putting it on and checking the chords himself, but it doesn’t last long as Ashton’s voice calls everyone to the center of the room.
Walking with Calum to where the rest of the crew was, you notice how attached Luke was to Rachel. Joint at the hip, arms wrapped around each other; it was annoying.
“Show starts in ten,” Ashton gains your attention, holding up a cup as Michael hands Calum a similar cup before doing the same to Luke. The three follow the drummer’s action as he continues, “let’s make this show fuckin’ awesome.”
The crew cheers, dying down quickly as Michael gives his thoughts, “We worked our asses off for this album, I don’t have any doubts about it. We got this, guys!”
The cheers resume as those with a drink take a celebratory sip before placing their empty cup on a surface near them.
Calum leaves your side to join Michael while Ashton heads to you.
“You excited?” he asks, putting his right arm around your shoulders with a large smile.
“Yeah!” you return the smile, “What about you? Nervous like the others?”
He shakes his head, crinkling his nose, “I’m not too nervous. I’m just happy to play again.”
You’re about to ask him what song he was the most excited to play, starting to get into the conversation but yet again you are interrupted by Rachel.
“Hey, Ash,” she greets him, Luke following close behind her as his arms make their way back around her shoulders again.
“Hi, Rachel,” Ashton nods his head at her – his eyes dance to Luke briefly before returning to Rachel’s, “didn’t think you’d make it.”
“Couldn’t miss your big show,” she smiles, looking up at her boyfriend as she pats his stomach.
Luke laughs, gently pushing her hand away from him, “I’m surprised, too—“ he grabs the guitar a crew member hands him, left arm lifting itself from Rachel’s shoulder as he slips the strap over his head, “—because her schedule did not look clear enough, but here she is.”
“Three minutes,” a different crew member rushes out, patting Luke and Ashton’s shoulders before rushing to tell the others.
“See you after,” Luke shifts his guitar away from Rachel before leaning down to kiss her on the lips – something you wish you didn’t see – and turning around to head out of the dressing room.
Ashton gives you a quick hug, “Excited for the lights,” he mumbles in your ear before turning to Rachel to give her a side hug.
It doesn’t go unnoticed how Rachel’s eyes glared at you by Ashton, but he doesn’t mention it as he heads out with the other guys towards the stage.
As a majority of the crew follow them out, you stay behind to clean up the empty cups and other trash, trying to occupy yourself as Rachel too stayed behind.
Her eyes followed you as you moved about the room, carrying the small plastic bag with you as it fills up with cups and wrappers. You could feel the glare burning into your side and back as you paid her no mind.
When it was just you two left, the bass from their opening song was heard and felt as you finished picking up the garbage.
“For how long have you liked Luke?”
You froze. Your head whipped towards Rachel, wide-eyed as you glanced around the room to make sure it was just the two of you.
“What…what are you talking about?” You can feel an extreme warmth rising up from the bottom of your back, all the way to your face, nervousness clouding your brain as she stares you down.
“Luke—,” she crosses her arms and moves to the couch, “how long have you liked Luke?”
“I don’t—I,” you stutter, your stomach dropping as you realize you’ve been caught.
His girlfriend knows you like him.
“Cut the bullshit,” she spits, “I can see it. You’ve been friends with him for years, you obviously caught feelings for him.”
You shake your head, standing up straight to give off the illusion of confidence. Turning your back to her and towards the door, “I don’t have to talk to you.”
You opted for walking out of the dressing room and go watch the band from the side of the stage, but you made a quick stop in the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.
You did what you could to avoid her during their performance. You knew she was watching you, seething at how you ended the conversation so fast.
Rachel wanted to break you down, find the reason why you like him and separate you two for as long as it takes to make him fall in love with her. She finds you a problem in their relationship because of how close you and Luke are, because of how long you’ve known each other. A threat to her and her relationship.
An hour and a half later, the show is finished and the whoops and cheers from the crowd indicate the album was very well received. That thought swept the interaction with Rachel from earlier under the rug as the boys’ adrenaline spread throughout the crew.
Ashton was first to greet you, sweaty and ready to envelop you in a hug but you’re quick to avoid it, ducking down just as his arms closed around the space where your head was. He laughs it off, heading for his next victim.
Next was Calum, who grabbed a drink from Andy and gulped it down. He had a smile on his face after, only growing wider when he saw you. “I think they liked it!”
“Bass in tune, huh?” you return, patting his back as he passes you to go to the next person.
Michael is the third, taking off his hat (which made you question why he was so worried about his hairstyle that he spent at least fifteen minutes playing with before the show). He stops in front of you, phone in hand as he takes a picture of the two of you: a tradition he started a few tours ago as a joke.
Finally, Luke makes his way towards you, ready to ramble about the show but is brisked away by Rachel. He doesn’t even glance over at you after he’s taken away towards the hall.
Entering the dressing room where the rest of the boys sat, you saw Michael talking animatedly on the phone, Calum laying across the couch with an arm over his eyes, and Ashton wiping off excess sweat with a towel. He was the first one to notice you.
“Ready for that hug?” he asks as you approach him.
“Why not.”
You hug each other, smiling as you pulled away. In the distance, over the cool-down music, you hear Luke’s laughter in the hall. Knowing he’s with Rachel makes you wonder if she’s told him about her suspicions, and that thought alone makes you clam up all over again.
Ashton immediately notices, tilting his head as he asks you what’s wrong.
“Nothing,” you quickly reply, eyes focusing on him.
He notices how jittery you seem, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he says nothing.
“Guys,” Andy comes in with his camera in hand, “we need to take a few photos.”
The three agree and follow the photographer out. You move to the snack table for a bottle of water, but before you can take a sip, someone clears their throat in the doorway.
You roll your eyes immediately because you know who it is. You don’t pay her any attention and instead take the sip of water you need.
“We need to finish that conversation you oh-so rudely ended,” Rachel moves into the room, keeping her voice down as she crosses her arms.
“We don’t need to finish anything.”
She scoffs, “I asked you a question, and you were so quick to avoid it. I think you’re proving a point.”
“What point?” you turn to look at her, “I know you don’t like me but I don’t know why, can we start with that?”
“Like I said before, I know you like Luke. He’s my boyfriend, and I don’t like how he’s close to you.”
“We grew up together,” you state, standing tall as you glare at her, “of course we’re going to be close.”
“Well I don’t like it,” she huffs.
You shake your head with a sigh, closing the lid to the bottle as you turn your back to her. You were getting angry at the fact that someone who didn’t know Luke as long as you did was hinting that you should stay away from him.
“Stop hanging out with him.”
A curt laugh escapes you before you can stop it, “Are you jealous of our friendship?”
“No,” she smirks, “but I know you’re jealous of our relationship.”
She’s right; you’re only a little jealous of their relationship, but it’s not something you want to risk your friendship with.
You open your mouth to defend yourself, but you’re caught off-guard when nothing comes out. The one opportunity to make her believe you don’t like her boyfriend and you can’t say anything.
Giving up with sinking shoulders, you glance at the door before looking back at her. Grimacing at her knowing smile, “How did you find out?”
She hums, “It was easy. I love him, so I know what it looks like to look at someone you love. You made it so obvious, I’m surprised no one else found out!”
You grit your teeth. You did your damn best to make sure no one, especially Luke or Rachel, know how you feel about him.
“I’m not intimidated by you,” she walks closer to you, arms uncrossing as her hands move to her hips, “but I won’t deny the fact that you and Luke have chemistry.”
“What will it take—” you place the bottle back on the table, “—for you to leave me alone?”
“Do the same to him.”
“What?”
“Leave him alone, unfriend him,” she shrugs, “simple as that.”
“That’s ridiculous,” you walk around her to the door, ready to end the conversation.
“Do that or I’ll tell him,” with a harsh tone she walks towards you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Okay,” another voice from the doorway makes the two of you jump, “that’s enough.”
Ashton walks into the room, grabbing Rachel’s hand and removing it from your arm.
“W—” she stutters out as she watches the tall man move to stand in front of you.
“I came back for my drumsticks—” his eyes shift to the object sticking out of his bag before dropping down to Rachel, “—but instead I find you, what, threatening a good friend of ours?”
Rachel is speechless while you’re frozen. It was embarrassing enough for one person to find out about your crush on Luke, but now Ashton might know and you want to go into hiding.
“Let it go,” you tug on Ashton’s shirt to get his attention but he doesn’t move.
“Telling someone who’s known your boyfriend longer than your relationship to just abandon him is low, Rachel. Don’t think the way you’ve been treating our friends has gone unnoticed.”
You hear more footsteps approaching the room, and now you wish the ground can swallow you up. You don’t want all this attention on you.
“What’s happening here?” Michael says as he peeks into the room, Luke behind him as Calum leans against the other side of the doorway.
“Nothing—,” Rachel tries to deflect but with four pairs of eyes on her, it becomes too much. Tears start pouring out, and you’re in disbelief.
How can she be the one crying after she was the one who was rude to you?
Luke immediately rushes in, creating a beeline right to her side to wrap her in his arms.
His eyes dart to yours, an emotion on his face of something you’ve never seen, but you know it’s not good.
“What did you do?”
You’re taken back by his tone and the way his angry eyes stare you down. It hurts because instead of staying neutral and finding out what exactly happened, he immediately chose a side: a side of someone he’s known for only for a short amount of time.
“Mate,” Ashton speaks up for you, “I think you’re asking the wrong person that.”
“No,” Luke’s voice raises, eyes moving from yours to stare into his band mate’s, “I’m asking the right person.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes welling with tears as the weight of everything happening within the last ten minutes starts to bring you down. Your eyes move away from the ones boring into yours, and with a tremble in your voice, “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one who started—.”
“Bullshit!” Luke’s roar cuts you off, “Absolute bullshit, because if she started it, then why is she the only one crying?!”
The two other guys move in to the room to mediate the situation.
“Luke, calm down,” Michael’s hands raise to the motion of ‘calm down’ as he tries to get Luke’s attention.
“There’s gotta be more to the story,” Calum moves to your side, checking on you briefly.
“Don’t,” Luke states as he watches Calum grab your shoulders to move you out of the room.
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Ashton questions. He watches Luke soothingly rub Rachel’s back, wiping her tears with his free hand.
“My girlfriend is crying and you two were the only ones in here,” Luke replies, gently grabbing Rachel’s arms so he can look directly into her eyes, “what happened, babe?”
“I asked them—,” Rachel sniffles, continuing her façade, “—if they needed any help cleaning the room earlier and they yelled at—at me and told me to go away. Then after the show when you guys went for your photos, I came here to apologize to her, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”
She was selling it; the tears, the sniffling, the stutters, and hiccups. A great actress who knows what she wants.
“That’s not true,” you inhale, your ears feeling warm and ringing, “she has had a problem with me lately and I don’t know why!”
Luke scoffs, shaking his head, wrapping Rachel in his arms again.
“C’mon,” Michael mumbles, wanting to leave the room.
Ashton turns around, watching your face go from pleading to blank as the tears fall from your eyes. He turns his head to face Luke, “You’re unbelievable,” he grabs your shoulders and starts to move you out of the room, “let’s go.”
Michael is already out of the room, the tension too much for him and ruining the after-show vibe. Calum is waiting by the door ready to help lead you out. Ashton has you turned around, pushing you towards the door.
“Wait, Luke,” you mumble, getting out of Ashton’s hold and turning back to face Luke.
He doesn’t look at you, sighing as he rubs Rachel’s head as it’s against his chest.
“Please,” you plead, begging him to look at you and when he does, you ask, “who do you believe?”
“What?”
“Who do you believe, Luke,” you gulp with a sniffle, “me or her?”
For a moment, you think you see hesitation. His jaw tenses as he stares you down, his best friend for years and someone he turned to when times got tough. He then looks down at the girl in his arms, someone he loves crying into his chest.
He sighs again, this time soft, before looking up to meet your eyes. He does notice the tears, the pain etched on your face as his other best friends watch them. “I believe Rachel.”
“This is fucking stupid,” Ashton mutters as he gently grabs your shoulders again to lead you out of the room.
You let the tears fall freely, not meeting any of the boys’ eyes as you kept your head face down.
You’ve lost your best friend. He chose someone else over you, a lie he chose to believe.
Whatever it was that made you catch feelings for your best friend, you wish you can find it and destroy it, along with any other memory you’ve made with him. After tonight, you want him erased from your cherished memories.
---
part two!
#5sos imagines#5sos blurbs#5sos drabbles#5sos one shots#5 seconds of summer imagines#5 seconds of summer blurbs#5 seconds of summer one shots#5 seconds of summer drabbles#luke hemmings imagines#luke hemmings blurbs#luke hemmings drabbles#req#5sos preferences#5 seconds of summer preferences#5sos imagine#5sos preference#5 seconds of summer imagine#5 seconds of summer preference
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finger paint | choi san
word count: 1.3k
genre: fluff
established relationship!
warnings: san just makes a sex joke but that’s it
request: hello hello could i request san with an artist!reader? like they're dating but he's also her muse and she paints him and hfjsjfjd pure fluff ig? also congrats on 100!! deserved
a/n: thank you!! <3 i hope you enjoy! ps. thank you for helping me with literally everything lol
“choi san!” you scolded your boyfriend as he kept moving wayyy too much for you to sketch his body.
“i’m sorry, i can’t help it. but you gave me something really boring to do.” san apologized as he motioned towards the english textbook you gave him.
you sighed in annoyance thinking of other ways to occupy your boyfriend enough for him to stay still since you current art project was to capture someone in the act of doing something. so of course, you choose to paint san since it was another excuse for you to marvel at your boyfriend plus you got to spend even more time with him and get your schoolwork done. it was a three birds one stone type thing you know?
at first, you asked him to dance for you. letting him freestyle to whatever song was playing. if i’m being honest, you spent the first five minutes just watching san dance. you were absolutely entranced by the way he moved his body so effortlessly and smoothly.
san had caught on to your staring and teased you for it. “are you gonna start drawing or are you just gonna keep your mouth open? because i’ll give you a reason to keep it open.”
your immediate reaction was to throw whatever was in your reach at him. your weapon of choice was an eraser that hit him square in the forehead.
“ouch.” he pouted as he rubbed the targeted spot.
“that’s on you.” you defended as you picked up the eraser he threw back at you, your cheeks a pretty pink. “can you get back to dancing now please?”
“you sure? because i-”
“san!” you shouted at him as you pointed your pencil at him threateningly.
“ok! ok!” he said immediately as he jogged back to his phone to hit play again.
as the music went on, the more you realized it was hard to capture a single dance move. you were getting frustrated each time you had to erase your page.
“baby, is it okay if you can do something else?” you shyly asked him, feeling bad that he has to switch activities for you.
“sure, of course. what do you have in mind?” he asked you as he lowered the music.
this is how you were left with a twitchy san, who wouldn’t sit still while you tried to sketch him. he always changed his position every few minutes or so claiming that he couldn’t get comfortable. finally, you got tired of san changing positions which led to you slightly snapping at him.
but then a bright idea popped into your head.
there was an art sale at your local target which resulted in you buying some mediocre art supplies for your art students that you had lessons with during the week. you rushed into your storage closet, digging around bins and bags looking for the five-color finger paint set that you never used.
“where did you go?” your boyfriend asked as you returned with a palette and the bottles of paint in your arms.
“i had to get something.” you answered as you sat back down on the floor, cracking open the paint, secretly praying that they weren’t dry and chunky. fortunately, your prayers were heard and the paint squeezed out the bottles with ease.
“what’s that for?” san asked pointing to the paint bottle in your hand as he crouched down, “i thought you weren’t done with the sketch?”
“i’m not.” you handed the palette to him, “this is for you.”
“but where am i supposed to paint?” he asked you as he dipped a finger into one of the blobs of paint.
“good question.” you replied back, motioning for him to sit. you didn’t have any spare canvases to use since you were already on a tight budget plus regular printer paper would just bleed through. you thought carefully about what other surfaces san could use to paint. a white board could work or maybe a-
“what the hell-” you shouted as you felt something touch your knee. you looked down to see san slowly removing his finger from your body, a glob of blue paint still stuck on his finger where a half drawn smiley face was left on your knee.
“i’m sorry.” san replied quickly as he removed his finger and went to go wipe it off.
“wait.” you pushed his hand away from your leg. if you didn’t have any surfaces for him to paint on, then why don’t you become one? the paint was washable since it was made to be on skin plus you aren’t wasting any more art supplies.
bingo
“you can keep painting-”
“on your legs?” san interrupted, giving you an odd look.
“yeah, they’re fingerpaints it’s okay.” you smiled at him before picking up your sketchbook again.
the pink haired boy shrugged his shoulders and picked up the palette of paint before returning your body. the first thing he did was finish his smiley face on your knee. then he started to dragging his finger around your calf after quietly asking you for to raise your legs, which created a long green line that wrapped around the bottom part of your leg. next, san used his middle finger to dip it into a pretty red color to make a flower right on top of the green line and then he dipped his pinky into some yellow to create the middle of the flower. after alternating between colors and fingers, san had managed to create a pretty vine that had a different colored flower every few inches. he also threw in a few small bees around the plant.
before continuing to paint the other leg, san had stolen a glance at you. he felt a smile form on his face as he watched your hands glide against the paper smoothly and skillfully with your bottom lip tucked underneath the top one. sunlight falling on you, making your skin glow. san could feel his heartbeat quicken, the longer he stared. he never imagined being able to date someone as lovely and amazing as you. someone who was able to love him but also be his best friend. someone who he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
you could feel your boyfriend’s gaze on you which slowly made you look up from your sketchbook, “what?” is there something on my face?”
“huh? oh no.” san answered as he watched you perked your head up, making eye contact with him. he could feel his heartbeat even faster when your face broke into smile. fuck. he really was in love.
“what is it?” you asked, a laugh escaping your mouth as you looked at your flustered boyfriend.
“nothing, i just love you.” he replied, gaining some composure.
now it was your turn to get flustered. you could feel heat rush to your cheeks for the twentieth time today. damn, the things this boy did to you. dating san was full of surprises, cute cuddly moments turning into heated ones. but the biggest one to you was the thought of spending your futures together. he was your only partner that your mind really brought up about spending the rest of your life with someone you love so much. now it was a clearer answer.
yes, you would spend the rest of you life with choi san. your best friend, boyfriend, and muse. the person who would have your back for life, no matter what.
“do i not get a ‘i love you’ back?” san pouted with his fingers still covered in paint.
“yeah.” you teased him, an annoying smile plastered on your face as you dipped a finger into the paint. it was quite obvious that you loved the pink haired boy back but you wanted to mess with him after he wouldn’t sit still.
“whyyy? that’s not-”
you cut him off by poking his cheek with the finger covered in a bright blue.
“hey!” he shouted at you before reaching to grab a leg but you got up so quickly and sprinted away from his touch. “come back here! i want my ‘i love you’ !”
#choi san#choi san oneshots#choi san imagines#choi san fluff#choi san fluff imagines#choi san fluff oneshots#ateez choi san#choi san oneshot#ateez oneshot#ateez#ateez fluff#ateez fluff imagine#ateez fluff oneshots#ateez fluff oneshot#ateez oneshots#ateez imagines#kpop oneshots#kpop scenarios#kpop imagine#kpop oneshot#kpop fluff#request
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Greta Van Fleet as Dad's
Haven't been able to un-see this idea since it showed up on my dash and uggggh. I couldn't get over how cute all of this was.
For this imagine, I'm sort of picturing them with younger children, anywhere from 3-5 years old as they are all still crazy young hehe. Also. All of these imagines work with any gender of child. It's all sorta just what I imagine them having and being like in general 🖤
Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart
JOSH
Josh is such an interesting guy. He is both so deeply smart... but also at the same time he is the equivalent of a conversation between my last two brain cells.
The sheer amount of energy this man has means he'll not only keep up with a kid but also tire them tf out.
There would always be so much screaming and laughing in the house.
Lots of games of tag and the floor is lava
No matter what he has, son or daughter --- there will be so much dancing. Josh would be the kind of dad who loves to hold his kid and just dance around the house with them.
Not to mention all of the goofy songs they would be singing together.
I can see Josh conversing with his kids like adults even when they are little. Meaning there will be some very serious conversations about very silly things. Potato chips can make you a fly? On it. The floor is both lava and also the arctic? Josh is ready to hear all about how that's possible. There aren't mermaids but there are human sharks? Josh needs to know where he can find them asap.
I can very easily imagine him dressed up and sitting at a table that is far too small for him with his legs crossed.
His daughter would have started by putting one necklace on him and it soon escalated to a crown, sunglasses that didn't fit, and a set of fairy wings. Surrounded by many stuffed animals and dolls.
"Mmm, this is great tea! What kind is it?"
"Grape."
He'd look at his tiny tea cup filled with apple juice. "Huh I could have sworn it was Apple. Did you change it on me?"
She would shake her head, "No daddy! We already drank the apple tea!" She'd laugh.
"What?? You drank all the apple tea without me?!" He'd exclaim, "why did you drink all the apple tea with out me?"
Josh would inch over and begin to tickle her, just loving to hear her laugh really.
"Daddy! Daddy no! You can't tickle me, I'm the princess!!"
Jake
Jake immediately strikes me as such a chill laid back dad. The kind of cool dad you'd definitely want during your teenage years.
He'd be the kind of dad to sit and watch cartoons religiously with his kid, there's no way he'd be missing them. Doesn't matter if it's cool or comedy gold, if his little one loves it they're gonna watch it together.
I think Jake would really want to teach his kid how to play guitar. It's something he's so passionate about that I think it would bring him a lot of joy if his kid had at least the knowledge of techniques and things, even if they weren't a huge fan of playing themselves.
Jake as well strikes me as someone who would be psyched about making dad jokes, of course with a straight face.
That is just a long winded way of saying that as a very young child this kid would know more about music than I do now after 20 years of living on this planet.
"What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school?"
"Bison!"
For a gender of a kid I'm split right in the middle when it comes to Jake. I think either would be equally as adorable but for this imagine I'm going with a girl to keep things even.
With a little girl I can imagine him sitting quietly as he watches her tiny hands try their best to paint his nails cleanly.
There is pink nail polish everywhere. Everything is a mess. Everything smells of chemicals. But it's fine.
"After I do your nails can I braid your hair too?" She'd eagerly ask, not looking at his hands anymore but she is still trying to paint.
"But your show is going to be on soon...! I thought we were gonna cuddle?"
"....can I braid your hair and watch my show?"
Jake would look at her seriously before smiling, moving quickly to give her a small kiss on the cheek, "of course you can, only if you give me lots of cuddles after."
"Okay daddy!"
*insert a child who is only half heartedly braiding hair while fully enthralled in their show. Head tilted on a 45° angle to see the TV with half of Jake's hair in a frizzy mangled braid.*
Sam
I really think Sam would want his kids to listen to really good music from a young age.
I mean don't get me wrong I think all of the boys would be like this... but I see him being the kind of parent that buys into the "smarter babies listened to music in important development periods"
The ultimate "my kid is so smart" kind of parent that then shows you 20 drawings that don't look like anything, but clearly they look like something to him.
All those drawings get tucked away somewhere safe so he can go back and look at them proudly as his little one grows up.
"Maybe they'll be an artist?!"
He also strikes me as a parent who wants to be really involved in teaching his kid things. ABC's? Sam's baby has them locked and loaded. Numbers 1-20? Still has trouble remembering anything with a nine but we are working on it.
Ultimate joy is achieved when Sam gets to teach his little one how to ride a bike. He feeling like its a right of passage for every kid to have with their dad.
I pictured Sam sitting with his little boy at the kitchen table, puzzle pieces sprawled all over.
"Dad, I have a joke for you." He'd say as he fiddled with a piece.
"Oh yeah? Go for it buddy." Sam would reply as he connects another edge piece.
"Knock knock!"
"Whose there?"
"Banana!"
"Banana who?"
"The Banana man!" Snickering coming from across the table, hands banging on the table and nearly knocking several pieces off the table.
Sam would laugh a long, "Y'know I've never heard that version of that joke---"
"Dad I'm not done"
"Oh I'm sorry, continue." He'd say beginning to look for a few more pieces to go together.
"Knock knock!"
"Whose there?"
"Banana!"
"Banana who...?" Sam would respond slowly, prepared for the same poorly created joke.
"TWO BANANA MEN!"
Sam would have to lay on the table. It was such a freaking terrible joke but so funny to see the amount of joy it brought the little boys features. "You have to tell that one to mom, okay?"
Danny
Danny is such a loving guy in general, I feel like parenting for him would just be so easy. Not saying that there wouldn't be troubled times--- just that he's just one of those people that were born to parent.
The very dependable parent. Always going to make time for any small thing his little one needs.
Danny is going to encourage his kid to do whatever they love with all of his being.
"You like rocks? We should get a rock polisher."
"You're right these cookies are pretty good, maybe we should get the stuff we need to bake them together."
He is going to have a series or specific book he reads to his little one until they fall asleep. Its something he would refuse to miss, they have to do their chapter! Even if he's on tour somewhere he's going to call home to make sure they can read together.
Danny is over the moon to have a little golfing buddy. As soon as this kid could walk he bought them their own set of clubs so they could play along with him. He just couldn't wait to start teaching them.
Golf time is bonding time. They'd get to walk together and talk about anything and everything.
I've been crazy torn about whether to write about him with a son or a daughter, both are equally as cute. For the sake of evenness though I decided on a boy.
"Okay so for your driver buddy you need to hold your arms waaay out." Danny would tell his son holding his arms out.
"Like this?"
"A little more."
Little eyes look to Danny curiously as his arms become fully extended from his body.
"Perfect! Make sure you stand straight, and keep your eyes on the ball." He says with his hand on the middle of the boys back, "And then you just---"
"SWING!"
Danny nearly getting clocked in the head with a golf club but leans back just in time. The satisfying ting of the little one's club hitting the ball sounds,
"DID YOU SEE HOW FAR IT WENT DAD?!"
*Insert the face Danny made when he pretended Sam's margarita's were good*
~ If anyone wants a full fic written for one of these please let me know because I will 100% write out fluffy family fics without hesitation!! ~
#jake gvf#danny gvf#josh gvf#sam kiszka#greta van fleet#jake kiszka#josh kiszka#sam gvf#danny wagner#greta van fic#greta van fleet fan fiction#greta van fleet imagine#greta van fleet roleplay#gvf fanfiction#gvf#gvf imagine
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"Youre so full of light, I'm afraid I'll be the one to quench it" with crosshair x reader? is that an option?
Awww yesss, I’m happy to write anything for this grumpy toothpick! 🖤
Crosshair x reader | 2k words
“You’re so full of light... I’m afraid I’ll be the one to quench it” from this prompt list.
Crosshair was avoiding you. That much was obvious.
At first you'd thought he was having a bad day and let him have his space. But then it kept happening. Never looking at you. Leaving the room as soon as you entered. Pretending not to hear your questions. You were back to where you'd started with him, all those rotations ago when the Bad Batch had first arrived on your home world to help drive out some troublesome pirates. He'd been a tough cookie to crack, but slowly, day by day, you'd managed to draw him more and more out of his shell. And the more he did, the more you fell for him.
But now he'd retreated back behind his walls again and you had no clue why. Had you said or done something to scare him? You weren't sure, but you also weren't disheartened. You knew someone as special as Crosshair would take time and patience to bond with. You'd pull him back out eventually, you were confident.
An opportunity came when Hunter announced one day the need for the marksman to scout a nearby pirate camp, located in a clearing just beneath a forested ridge of land. You knew the area yourself and convinced the Sergeant you'd be a good assistant for Crosshair's recon mission. The sniper had had his helmet on when Hunter sent you off with him, so you could only imagine whatever salty expression he sported beneath it.
The two of you trudged along in silence for a while at first. Occasionally you'd suggest a path to take, or he'd caution you from stepping on the more unstable parts of the terrain hidden beneath the underbrush. Otherwise, you let him be, and instead focused most of your attention on taking in your surroundings. Even in the midst of trouble, you still made a point to appreciate the beauty of your planet. The curved and knotted trees, each as unique as a snowflake, with their wide leaves fluttering in the grasp of a stray breeze. The tiny beams of sunlight that sliced through the foliage and illuminated the otherwise dingy forest floor. The echoing songs of the winged creatures that danced above your heads, ignorant to the conflict of the more sentient beings they cohabited with.
Eventually you couldn't help yourself, and you started to hum a song of your own. It was a tune you made up as you went, each note created to express whatever new feeling sparked within you as you ventured further into the forest. You were hardly a composer, and you were certain that even when humming you were off-key, but it didn't matter. The song made you feel light and free, a feeling that was rare but welcomed wherever you could find it.
You realized you were being watched, and turned your head to see Crosshair's worn helmet trained in your direction. He quickly averted his gaze, but it was enough to show you he'd been staring for a while. You hid a smile, not wanting to seem like you were teasing.
"Am I annoying you?"
"No," he said, low and quick. You noticed his grip on his rifle tightened ever so slightly.
"Are there any songs you like? I can try to sing if I know them."
He did not respond, continuing to plod alongside you in silence. Well, at least you'd gotten one word out of him.
You soon arrived at a part of the ridge that gave you the perfect view of the pirate encampment below. You nestled in the crook of a large tree while Crosshair laid himself prone on the ground next to you. He used the scope of his rile to get a better look at the camp, muttering details he thought important while you logged them on a holopad for future strategizing.
"Kriff," he growled. You peered around the trunk of the tree, as if you could see whatever had caught his eye from such a distance. You could only make out little dots of tents and people scattered in the valley below, so you turned back to him for explanation. "Children."
You hummed knowingly, which seemed to fluster him.
"That doesn't concern you?" His scope was abandoned as his helmet lifted to face you.
You shrugged. "What, criminals can't fall in love and start families?"
You couldn't see his scowl but you could feel it. You weren't sure why his grumpiness made you want to laugh sometimes, but you hid your amusement with another shrug, not wanting to upset him further, not when he seemed to be more open to talking to you again.
"Well it's going to make this mission much more difficult," he grumbled, starting to pack up his rile.
"Yeah..." you agreed, but you didn't sound as defeated as he did. "We'll just have to get creative. We'll figure it out."
He was crawling over to your spot behind the tree but paused at your words, his helmet tilting as if in thought for a moment. You raised your eyebrows at him, wishing you could somehow read the marksman's mind. You were certain his thoughts were fascinating; they usually were with the quiet ones.
He settled into the space next to you and fumbled around in one of his pouches, eventually bringing out a couple of small ration packs. You smiled in gratitude as you took the one he offered you. You hadn't realized how famished you'd grown from this outing.
"It's not much," he mumbled as if apologizing. He worked on freeing himself from his helmet and you tried not to stare at the face that emerged from it.
"It's still something," you smiled through bites of... well, whatever it was you were eating. It tasted more like wood than food and you tried to believe it at least had some nutritional value as you forced it down.
Crosshair was shaking his head at your words.
"What?" you asked. He only shook his head again.
You tried to drop it, but your patience was starting to wear a little faster than usual. He was so close to you, and yet he felt further away than ever. You were both angled so that it'd be natural to look at each other, but you could see him purposefully looking anywhere else. You moved your knee experimentally, brushing against his and causing it to jerk away suddenly. Even beneath all his armor you could tell his muscles were tense. Something was clearly bothering him and you hated the thought that you were somehow the cause of it.
"Crosshair," you said, trying to keep your voice soft and non-threatening, but still speaking loud enough for him to know you were trying to get his attention. He reluctantly looked at you, his fingers curling around the rile that lay across his lap in clear display of unease. He almost looked sick. "What's wrong?"
His frown deepened, further than you ever thought possible.
"Cross," you said again, even softer now, scooting yourself just a little bit closer. You felt like you were approaching an injured animal. You needed to be careful if you wanted to help him, lest his suddenly snap and chase you away.
"Nothing's wrong," he huffed, still determined to keep his thoughts private. You didn't move closer, only looked him up and down, trying to figure him out.
"If I did something to upset you," you said slowly, "please let me know, so I can try to make amends. I don't want to be a burden to you."
He sighed, but it wasn't as frustrated or annoyed as it usually sounded. He brought his hands up to his face and dragged them down, slow and forlorn. When he spoke, it was so quiet you could barely understand. "You're not a burden."
You squinted at him, summoning back what patience you'd briefly lost before, waiting.
"I'm the burden," he said a little louder. "You, you're so..."
His eyes cast about the forest beside him, as if he might find the words he wanted painted on the trees. You held your breath, unsure what they could possibly be.
"So full of light," he finally said, allowing his gaze to finally meet yours. "And... I'm afraid I'll be the one to quench it."
You blinked as it became clear to you the cause of his turmoil.
"Your response to everything is positive," he continued rather quickly, as if to get his thoughts out before he could stop himself. "All I see is hardship and difficulty. You sing songs and act like everything is beautiful."
"Most things are," you couldn't help but say, which only caused him to glare at you, proving his point.
"This forest is not," he said. "There are a hundred places someone could've hid and got the jump on us. Those pirates are not... They can have as many children as they want, but they are fools for bringing them along to a raid. These rations are not..."
He threw the crumpled wrapper at you and probably would've continued his ranting had you not let out reached out for his hand and stopped him.
"Okay, okay, I get it," you said with a slight chuckle, only resting your hand atop his, not yet holding it fully. "I'm an optimist, you're a cynic. So what?"
"So..." his voice slipped back into a growl. But he trailed off, unable to explain why it mattered to him that you were so different from each other. You had a guess as to why now; it had become quite clear to you the sniper had feelings for you that were very similar to the ones you had for him.
"You want to know what I think?" you asked with a smile. You waited for his nod to continue. "I think we need each other. I think you need me to ease your worries, show you that not everything is as difficult as you make it. And I need you to keep me grounded. Keep me safe from all the threats I can't see. We make a good team, you and I. That's what I think."
Crosshair looked at you and it was if the walls he'd built up were slowly lowering down again, just as they had when you'd first gotten to know him. The lines on his face, usually so sharp and prominent, softened as your words began to settle within him. You much preferred seeing him like this, relaxed and at ease.
"You won't ever be a burden to me," you said, now letting yourself cross the gap that remained between you, saddling up alongside him so your sides were flushed together and your hands, now holding each other properly, rested on your thigh. "My entire planet is at war. Most of my friends have left or are dead. I don't even have a home anymore. It's going to take a lot more than your grumpy ass to quench my light."
You rested your head against the stiff plastoid on his shoulder. It wasn't comfortable, but it was more to show him the truth of your words. You trusted him. You enjoyed him. You wanted to be close to him.
He didn't say anything, but then again, he was better with actions anyway. After a beat, he let go of your hand and moved to wrap his arm around you instead, pulling you into the crook of his shoulder and placing a toothpick between his teeth with a contented sigh. You let out a happy sound of your own, humming your made-up song as the two of you rested against the tree.
You knew this probably wasn't the end of Crosshair's insecurities, that you had a lot of work ahead of you to continue convincing him that he was wanted and worthy, that you were strong and safe. But it was a good start, and you were more than willing to keep going, knowing the reward of Crosshair's love at the end would make it all worth it.
#star wars#star wars fanfiction#the clone wars#the bad batch#crosshair#crosshair x reader#ct-9904#my emotional support grumpy toothpick man#ask box open#prompt list#i'm feeling creative in this chilis tonight
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Impossible (Reggie Peters x Reader)
A/n: This was again another request! I definitely enjoyed writing it! If you guys have any requests please comment them or dm me! Also currently working on an Owen Joyner smut that goes a little more into detail than the last so be prepared! Also let me know if you guys think I should make a tag list!
Requested by: @universefangirl (Tumblr)
Warnings: Smut (18+)
————
I sat in my best friends garage listening to her rehearse with her band until it was time.
"Flynn's gonna love this" I said looking up from my sketch book.
"Thanks y/n/n. I honestly don't know what I would've done if you hadn't believed me"
"Well at first I didn't. But you proved your point Jules" I said remembering how I just thought they were normal boys at first. Cute normal boys.
"I just hope she forgives me" The girl sighed looking down. I looked back at the rest of her bandmates who like all guys stood there awkwardly. They all sent me a look begging me to comfort her. I rolled my eyes standing up.
"Julie we've all been best friends since kindergarten. We've been through everything together. This is just another one of those things we have to get through" I said going to pull her in for a hug from behind.
"Thanks. Again. It really means a lot"
"What are best friends for?" I smiled as she hugged back the room going silent.
“You never know how long your supposed to wait in this type of situation before you can talk again you know?" (If you know where that's from I love you) Luke said making my head whip towards him.
"Maybe a little longer" The brunette spoke making me facepalm.
I looked back at the group nervously to see them giving me a thumbs up. My gaze quickly finding the cute bass player who sent me an air kiss. I jokingly pretended to catch it earning disgusted looks from the rest of the band.
"Gross" Julie joked.
"Shut it Molina" I warned turning around to go bring our other friend in. I was startled at the sudden sound of knocking outside the doors. Hearing a few chuckles from behind me as I opened the door.
"Hey Flynny" I smiled using the nickname I gave her when we were kids.
"Y/n? What are you doing here? Where's Julie?"
"I'm right here" Said girl called from behind me.
"Thanks for coming we just wanted to rehearse the song so it was perfect which it's not but whatever"
"No if I'm gonna hear a song from your imaginary ghost band I want it to be perfect so get back in there" Flynn said waving us back.
"All of you. You too" She said pointing to absolutely nothing.
"She's not lying Flynn. They're real"
"Oh my god now you've got y/n/n in on your imaginary ghost band? Do you play air drums?" Flynn's asked placing a hand on my shoulder.
"No that's Alex. I'm not in the band per se but I watch them rehearse all the time. Plus my boyfriends in it"
"Oh so she really sucked you in. So where are they?"
"They're not out here"
"Oh I know" Flynn said patting Julie's shoulder before walking in. I looked at the girl beside me playfully rolling my eyes.
Flynn had always been the logical one out of the three of us. So no doubt this was gonna have to be good. I shut one of the doors behind us while Julie shut the other before making my way towards the boys who stood there looking excited.
"Good luck" I whispered. Placing a quick kiss to Reggies cheek.
"Oh so my best friends just kissing the air now. That's great. What's your moms number again?" She asked pulling out her phone. I playfully rolled my eyes taking a seat on the couch pulling up my sketch book once more.
I was currently working on a drawing for the guys. Something that screams were alive. As Luke put it.
"All right guys you ready? Uh actually can you go over there. Reggie needs some space to rock out and he feels kinda weird walking through you" Julie said. Flynn letting out a chuckle.
"Boy when you create a world you really live in it"
"Just sit" Julie said sitting her down in an empty chair.
"If you'll notice there's no equipment that will produce a hologram. Feel free to look around. The guys took a poem that I wrote about you and put it to music"
"Y/n helped" Reggie interrupted making me smile.
"I'm sorry. The guys and y/n"
“Aww! I wish I didn't have to talk to your parents after this"
“Come on Flynny it's a great song"
"If you say so y/n/n. So when did you go crazy?" She asked placing a hand on her knees.
"It's called Flying Solo. Hope you like it" I smiled upon hearing the opening notes of the song.
J- If I leave you on a bad note
Leave you on a sad note
I know all your secrets
You know all my deep-dish
Guess that means some things they never, they never
Change...
We both know what I, what I, what I
Mean...
When I look at you it's like I'm looking at me
I looked up from my book when Flynn let out a scream signalling she could finally see them.
All- My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo
My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you
Hey! yeah-e-yeah
Hey! yeah-e-yeah
My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you
I grinned at Flynn who gave me a horrified look.
"Are you seeing this?" She whispered. I only nodded giggling at her reaction.
J- Yeah, you know who I'm likin'
Way before I liked them, duh...
Cause you liked them first
And if somebody hurts you
I'm gonna get hurt too
That's just how we work, yeah, that's just how we work
It will never
Change...
We both know what I, what I, what I
I bit my lip watching my boyfriend sing at a close proximity with Luke. Something that I'll never get used to. But definitely enjoyed. When they finallly separated Reggie sent me a wink as he sang the chorus. Luke gradually making his was over to me sitting down on the armrest beside me.
My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo
My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you
I chuckled as Luke scared Flynn. Instinctively I smacked his arm. Earning a confused look coming from the girl as Julie pulled her away towards Alex and Reggie.
Hey! yeah-e-yeah
Hey! yeah-e-yeah
I watched closely as Flynn attempted to touch my boyfriend only to have her hand go right through him.
"Weird right?"
"They're ghost!" "Oh we prefer musician spirits"
"But y/n" Flynn said pointing at me.
"We don't understand it either. But she can see and touch them. It's not the same for both of us" Julie explained showing how her hand went through Reggie as well.
“Julie so does this mean you're joining the our band?"
"Umm actually I think you're joining her band"
"I'm gonna go with what she said" Julie said sticking a hand out for me. I grinned taking it.
My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo
My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you
Julie sang the three of us dancing along.
"You're crazy" Flynn mouthed to me making me smile wider. She tilted her head to the side pointed at the bassist who had his focus on me.
Hey! yeah-e-yeah
Hey! yeah-e-yeah
I moved away from the two girls to let them have a moment. Reggies bass playing coming to a halt. Instinctively I moved to his side. His arm finding my waist and pulling me close. A chuckle leaving his lips.
My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you
Julie harmonized coming forehead to forehead with Flynn.
"Still wanna talk to our parents?"
"No I'm good" Flynn said the two girls hugging.
"Bring it in y/n/n!" Julie said opening her arms wider. I smiled kissing Reggies cheek before rushing to engulf my best friends in a group hug.
"I'm really glad Flynn enjoyed the song today" I spoke after a long day. I was finally able to sit in at my desk and continue drawing in my sketchbook.
With Reggie present in the room as well. Like most nights.
"I did too. She seems like a cool girl"
"Oh she is Reg. She was literally my first ever friend and with Julie the three of us have been inseparable since" I explained to my boyfriend who moved his arms behind his head.
"Well then I guess I'll have to get to know her better. For your sake of course" He said the room falling into a comfortable silence with exception of my soft music playing in the background.
Ed Sheeran to be exact. He had easily become one of the boy's favorites new artist. So when they hung out in my room I played him a lot. Along with other artists of course.
It had been about 15 minutes of my pencil hitting the paper when I finally looked up to see Reggie gazing at me.
"Have you been staring at me this whole time?"
"Maybe"
"Why?" I asked.
"Because your adorable"
"Really Reg. Look at you. Your a hot teenage ghost rocker from the 90's and you think I'm adorable" I giggled.
"I love your laugh" He stated my cheeks immediately heating up.
"Thanks" I smiled shyly.
"I love you" He spoke again. My heart stopping.
That was the first time either of us had said that. Since the night I met them in Julie's garage to now. Those were the last words I never expected anyone to say that wasn't family or Julie or Flynn.
Upon not hearing a response the look on his face dropped as he pulled himself to the edge of the bed in front of me.
"I-I mean you don't have to say it b-back I was just thinking out loud but like I could have been t-talking about anything like pizza. I love pizza. P-pizzas good well except pineapple pizza kinda of sort of. Actually you know what's really good cheese pizza that's nice I really like it-" I quickly cut him off by placing a tender kiss to his lip. Feeling his hands cup my cheeks the warmth of them making me feel safe. Loved.
I wanted more of him. I wanted to feel all of him.
Finally breaking apart I smiled at the boy in front of me.
"What?" He asked as I gazed into his beautiful brown eyes.
"I love you too Reg" His small smile only getting bigger.
He quickly removed the sketchbook away from me. Placing me onto his lap.
"Are you sure?"
"I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything my whole life" I smiled as he pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Kiss me" I whispered. Reggie immediately taking action.
I giggled as he began to kiss down my neck my hands flying to remove his red flannel. He was quick to remove it himself among my request. His other hand gripping my waist. I took this as my opportunity to fix myself on his lap straddling him. Like I'd done so many times before.
Our lips met in the middle as we both kissed each other with such force. Such passion. I smirked into the kiss as I placed my hand under Reggies tank top. His reaction something I hadn't expected.
"W-what are you doing?" He asked pulling away to look me in the eyes. I bit my lip giving him a look.
"Oh" He said letting out a breath.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah"
"Have you ever....." He trailed off. I nodded watching his face drop.
"If it helps I didn't really like the guy. And it was a long time ago"
"Oh" He kind of perked up.
"So? Are we good here?" I asked placing a soft kiss on his neck. And another and another. Until finally settling on a spot. Earning a throaty groan from the ghost.
"Yup" He squeaked out making me smirk. I placed my hand where it had been previously hiking it up his shirt. He quickly removed it before pulling me back in for a rough kiss.
"Reggie" I moaned as I began to grind on him only earning a soft whimper from the boy. Thankful my parents were out of town. Not for Reggies sake but mine.
"Come on y/n/n don't tease me now"
"You asked for it Reg" I smirked standing up. I smiled noticing how intently he was watching my next moves. I quickly removed my shirt and bra watching him gulp down nervously.
"Like what you see?" I asked biting my lip nervously.
I watched as he nodded eagerly before continuing. I removed my jeans as well leaving me in my panties before slowly bending down in front of him.
"N-no" He spoke stopping me from reaching toward his jeans.
"W-why not?" I asked confused.
"It's just- I wanna be with you tonight. We have plenty of time for everything else but this. This is different. It's our first time. I mean like not our first times but like our first time together and I-" I quickly cut off his cute rambling again with a kiss.
"I get it Reg. It's about us tonight" I smiled pushing him back onto my bed. Straddling him once more.
“Your so beautiful" He whispered his hands flying to my waist.
"Why thank you Reginald" I spoke bending down to meet his lips. Our bare chest coming into contact for the very first time. I moaned as he toyed with the waistband of my panties.
"Reggie please do something" I mumbled against his lips. He immediately took action flipping us over.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked waiting for my consent.
I simply nodded watching as he removed his jeans and boxers letting his hard on spring free from the contained fabric.
"Reggie" I panted digging my teeth into my bottom lip to widthold from the unholy sounds threatening to escape my lips.
"What baby? What do you want?" He teased pushing his finger against the fabric of my panties.
"You" He quickly ripped apart the thin fabric around my waist letting it fall off my body. Throwing it off to the side.
"Are you ready?"
"Wait!" I shouted pulling open a nearby drawer. I pulled out a condom from a box that had been sitting there for a while.
"Protection? Why do you have that there?"
"Well I knew this day would come Reg. I was hoping it would be with you" I said a smile forming on his face.
"Do you think we'll need it? I mean I'm a ghost"
"Safety first baby"
"Well okay then" He said slipping it on.
"Okay now are you ready?" I nodded as he slowly entered me.
Our moans filled the room as he let me adjust to his size.
"Baby your so tight" "Yeah well it's been a while" I muttered pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Okay you can move" I said giving him the go.
"If you want me to stop just say so okay?"
"Okay" I confirmed as he lent down to place a kiss upon my lips. He slowly began to move until he found a good pace. His thrust moving faster as a spur of moans left our lips.
"God I love you so much" I mumbled against my lips.
"Mmm. Faster Reg!" I encouraged him really feeling the pleasure course through me now. Getting exactly what I wanted I began to moan louder feeling him hitting my G spot at the perfect angle.
"Right there" I spoke feeling a knot forming in my lower stomach.
"I'm so close baby"
"Me too" He panted. We both released our orgasms at the same time relief washing over me as he pulled out. I laid back on the bed watching him throw the condom in the trash can under my desk.
"That was amazing" He said coming back to hover over me.
"It was" I smiled up at him. Pulling him down from behind his neck for another kiss. "I love you baby. I love you so much"
"I love you more" I said as he laid down beside me pulling the covers over us.
"Impossible"
#reggie x reader#reggie jatp#alex jatp#charlie gillespie#flynn jatp#jeremy shada#julie and the phantoms#julie molina#luke jatp#madison reyes#owen patrick joyner#sacha carlson#sunset curve#luke x reader#luke patterson#alex x reader#owen joyner#jadah marie
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chapter seven.
⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader
⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst
⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity
⇥ word count: 3.6k
⇥ warnings: 18+, lots of cursing, general chaotic energy, poly relationship, a short confrontation, mentions of slut-shaming, switch!reader, dom!joon, switch!jin, sub!jimin, library shenanigans, an abundance of coffee, punishments, spanking, bad puns (jin is in this chapter, DUH), many nerd references uwu
© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.
characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine
Chapter Seven
Quinn Library – 3:54pm
The end of September passes in a blur of studying, partying, volunteering, and spending time with friends. The month’s conclusion also includes the increasing presence of seven boys in my everyday routine.
Since giving Taehyung the suck of his life in the bathroom of Hannigan’s, I have been basically fighting off the seven of them for a moment to breathe. But, sometimes breathing is overrated when being smothered by affection.
Going from being single to essentially dating seven people is quite the adjustment. I found myself growing attached to them – something that both excited and scared the shit out of me. We haven’t discussed labels or anything, but I figure it’s only a matter of time. The boys have apparently been planning an elaborate first date for this upcoming weekend, and I feel like they’ll probably ask to make it official then.
My stomach erupts in butterflies at the thought, and I take a calming breath. No need to overthink such things.
While it might be unconventional by some societal standards, polyamory is simply a way to love. Why should love come with confines? With binary expectations? The saying ‘love is love’ gets thrown around a lot, but I believe it bears repeating.
Jenni and Luna have been nothing but supportive to me over the past two weeks. They even came with me to volunteer this past weekend because they - and I quote - wanted to ‘check out our vibe’. But, I wholeheartedly expect that the real reason had actually been for them to feel out the boys’ intentions.
Why did I suspect this? Well, because Jungkook had come up to me within the first fifteen minutes at the worksite quivering in fear over how ‘scary my friends were’ and how ‘Jenni had cornered him to interrogate him while Luna hovered behind her, menacingly holding a nail-gun’.
I had never felt more loved and supported by my friends.
My phone dings, and I quickly hasten to put it on silent, shooting an embarrassed and apologetic look around the library. It seems like most people have headphones in, and I let out a sigh of relief. No one wants to be that one loud person in the library.
Checking my notifications, I smile when I see it’s a SnapChat from Hobi in the group chat the boys created a few weeks ago. My thumb swipes it open, and I barely contain myself from announcing to the whole library how vibrantly handsome one of my potential boyfriends is.
I quickly send a SnapChat back of me and my stack of books in the library with the caption ‘send help in the form of coffee’.
Immediately, Taehyung sends a flurry of heart eyes emojis in the chat, Jungkook sends a ‘noona is so cute’, and Yoongi sends back a picture of a black screen with the caption ‘come nap with me’.
God, I would love to nap with Yoongi right now… Alone time with the older boy is so elusively precious. One day last week at their house, I had mentioned wanting to learn piano. Yoongi had just grabbed my hand and tugged me to his room. We had spent a couple hours together in the small corner of his room playing on his keyboard.
Well, he had been playing; I had been fumbling around like a buffoon - half uncoordinated in general and half flustered by how good Yoongi looked playing. His hands had been so nimble as they flew over the keys, crafting melodies I could only assume he had composed. His focus had been so fucking hot as he nodded slightly along to the tempo in his head, his eyes shooting over to look at me every once in a while.
My hand kink? Activated.
My willpower to not kiss the shit out of Yoongi? Nonexistent.
When Yoongi had paused in between songs, I may or may not have grabbed him by his shirt collar and kissed him. His blushing attempt to dodge me had been so cute; and when I had stopped trying to kiss him, he had pouted and then kissed me instead.
What a cutie…
A giggle draws my attention from my reminiscing. At first, I pay it no mind, taking it as a directive to dive back into my studies. But then, the whispering starts.
“I heard she’s fucking her way through the whole house.”
“Isn’t there a term for that?”
“Yeah, a frat rat.”
I slam my 500-page textbook closed and stand, leveling the duo of gossiping girls with a glare that could make grown men cry. It had before when I had to properly eviscerate my uncle in defense of feminism at our last family gathering. What a time that had been.
“Is there a problem?” I force the question through gritted teeth, stalking over towards their nearby table. I relish in the way they gape at me, eyes wide and pupils quivering, “I’m sorry. I’m afraid my complaint jar is at capacity. Please don’t try again later.”
The girl on the right gulps, “No-nope, there’s no problem! We were just leaving. Right, Janika?”
“No,” The girl who had called me a ‘frat rat’ just moments before crosses her arms and stands, “I do, like, have a problem.”
“Janika,” The other girl tugs on the sleeve of the one standing, “Don’t.”
“Yeah, Janika,” I smile, “Don’t.”
I can see the moment she snaps.
“You’re, like, such a fucking bitch! I don’t know what they all see in you. Oh wait, yes I do. You’re fucking easy.”
I consider myself to be a patient person, but having to endure this type of rant against my character - and against women’s sexual freedom in general - has pushed me well past my limits.
“Now, listen here, Janika,” I take another step forward, “You can keep talking your shit. I really don’t give a flying fuck what you think about me. But I really advise you to google ‘how to stop slut-shaming for dummies’ because it seems like you need a crash course.”
Janika’s face darkens, “Whatever. They’ll get tired of you anyway.”
“Yeah,” I let out an amused laugh, “I’m sure they’ll get real tired of me choking on their dicks every night.”
Letting out a gasp, Janika whirls back around to face her silent friend, “Let’s go. I don’t want to, like, be around her any longer.”
“Buh-bye now,”I wiggle my fingers in their direction as they shuffle out of the library.
Smiling in satisfaction, I head back towards my table. Without hesitation, I gather my books and belongings and head upstairs to the quiet floor. Any more distractions or confrontations would probably make my blood pressure pop off the charts.
The quiet floor, as one of my safe havens, is home to several small private study rooms. Peering into each, I start to lose hope that any would be available. Finally, the very last room proves me wrong, and I swing open the door and almost in tears over the sweet, sweet solitude.
This particular study room is tucked away in the very far corner of the library’s second floor. Not many people are aware of its location, and it seems that paid off for me today. Plopping my things down across the table in the center of the tiny room, I follow suit and drop down into one of the two chairs adjoining the table.
What a clusterfuck of an afternoon… This sadly isn’t the first time I’ve heard some comments being made about my association with the BTS boys, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Yet, part of me knew all along that this would be the trade-off.
After all, what are a few irrelevant opinions to seven gorgeous and loyal partners? Inconsequential - in my opinion. That is the reason why I haven’t breathed a word of the backlash to anyone.
Sighing, I flip open my textbook to where I had been before being rudely interrupted.
The amygdala plays a key role in emotion and behavior…
“Noona?”
I jump a half-mile out of my chair, slapping a hand over my pounding heart. Jimin had somehow managed to enter the room without my knowledge. Had he fucking teleported?
Holding a giant iced coffee in one hand and a cinnamon bun in the other, Jimin beams at me and ignores the fact he just scared the living shit out of me. “Hi, noona! I saw your SnapChat while I was in class, and I came here as soon as I could.”
I stare dumbfounded at the angel before me. Jimin is slightly out of breath with reddened cheeks and a sweaty brow. His black track-pants are slung low on his hips, his long-sleeve white t-shirt clings to his torso, his black duffle bag thrown carelessly over one shoulder. He must have run over straight from dance class.
Standing abruptly, I stalk over to where Jimin is still posted up by the doorway to the study room. Toe to toe with him, I blurt out while still half in a daze, “You really brought me coffee and food?”
He eyes me warily like I might suddenly jump on him at any moment. Shifting his weight back and forth, Jimin hesitantly replies, “Um, yes?"
I take the coffee and cinnamon bun from his hands, place them on the table, and then tackle him with the biggest hug. "You absolute sweetheart!" I murmur into the crook of his neck, "This made my day. Thank you, Jimin-ie."
His hands tentatively wrap around me, pulling me closer. "You're welcome, noona. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”
“Well, I really appreciate it, baby,” My lips brush over the crevice of his collarbone and relish in his shudder. Bringing my head up to face his, I smile widely at him, “Can I kiss you, Jimin-ie?”
“Yes,” He sighs out, eyes already closing in anticipation. I press my lips to his, still smiling softly against his mouth. His lips are plush under mine, velvety soft. My tongue swipes across his bottom lip and— Is that coffee I taste?
I pull back, “Jimin, did you sip my coffee on your way here?”
The boy looks rightfully alarmed, “I– y-yes. But only a little, noona!”
Cute.
“Hmm,” I trail my fingers down his chest, “I guess I’ll make an exception for you this time since you were the one to bring it for me.”
Jimin relaxes slightly, but his expression is strangely disappointed. I stare at him quizzically, and he blushes.
“What is it?” I lean against the table, facing him.
He clears his throat, staring intensely at the ground, “You can still punish me if you want, (y/n)-noona.”
My eyebrows shoot upwards at his offer, and then I let out a slight chuckle, “Oh, Jimin… That would be a favor to you, wouldn’t it? My baby boy wants to be punished, hm? Did dance practice make you all hot and bothered? Jungkook tells me that has been happening to you lately.”
Jimin’s face explodes in color as he mutters, “That little bitch will pay for this.”
Suddenly, the door swings open with a resounding thud, nearly clipping Jimin in the shoulder.
“Your savior has arrived!” Kim Seokjin announces loudly in spite of the studiously silent atmosphere of the quiet floor. His hands hold two steaming hot travel mugs, which I can only guess are filled with the elixir of the gods (aka coffee).
Seokjin’s eyes glance around the room as he takes in the fact that I’m not alone as he obviously had expected. “Wait, Jimin-ie? What are you doing here?” Jin’s eyes flick down to the coffee and cinnamon roll that lay on the table. “Goddamn it!”
“You were too slow, hyung,” Jimin smirks happily as he takes a seat in the chair I had previously vacated. He slouches smugly as he stares up at the fuming older boy.
“Too slow?!” Jin roars.
“Jin,” I chastise, circumventing around him to shut the door.
“Sorry, babe,” Seokjin says while still glaring daggers at the all-too-pleased Jimin. Suddenly, his expression changes into a sneaky look that makes me both want to run and jump his bones. “Well,” He waves the two coffee mugs around in the air, “I made these myself - with love. I didn’t buy that generic shit; I brewed it, baby.”
It’s Jimin’s turn again to look disgruntled, and I can’t help but laugh at their antics.
“Any and all coffee is appreciated and loved by me – the more the merrier. So, thank you both,” You say, taking one of the travel mugs from Seokjin. Kissing his cheek, you turn back to sit opposite Jimin at the table.
“She kissed me on the lips!” Jimin bursts.
“Park Jimin!” I cry as Jin splutters some sort of incoherent rant about fairness and equality.
Jimin holds eye contact with me, still leaning back in his chair like he’s the king of the fucking universe. But, he’s not; I am.
My chair hits the wall behind me with a bang as I stand, planting my hands on the table to loom over Jimin. “Do you think it’s fun to push your hyung, Jimin? Does it amuse you to be a little shit?”
I can see the moment that Jimin decides to be a brat. His eyes heat up in a challenge, and he firmly answers, “Yes, noona.”
“Get up.” The change in my tone is apparent. Jimin gulps. Getting to his feet, he stares back at me expectantly.
“Jin,” I address the older boy while still maintaining eye contact with Jimin, “What kind of punishment do you think I should give our Jimin here?”
Seokjin rounds my other side, grinning, “Well, (y/n) darling, I believe he should get spanked.”
“Interesting choice,” I murmur, turning to face Jin, “That’s what you’re going to get then.”
“What?” Jin squawks, arms waving rapidly around in the air, “But I didn’t do anything!”
“Nothing is what you should have done, Jin,” I push him against the wall, “You know better than to let Jimin rile you up like this.”
Those plump lips of his pout dramatically as he whines, “But, (y/n)…”
“But nothing,” I say and then whirl around to face the other boy. He’s still standing where I left him with his eyes glued to the pair of us. “Jimin,” I hold his gaze, “You’re going to watch. You’re not going to touch yourself, your hyung isn’t going to touch you, and I’m not going to touch you.”
His eyes widen comically, “No! That’s not fair!”
“Do you want to be gagged, too, baby boy?” I ask, cocking my head slightly. Seeing his emphatic head shakes, I grin. “That’s what I thought. Now, stay.”
Turning back to Jin, I smirk slightly as I ask, “Punishment now or later?”
Seokjin’s eyes scrunch cutely in confusion, “What?”
“You see,” I move closer to him, my body brushes his, “I think you earned a punishment, but I think you also earned helping me punish Jimin.”
A wide grin crosses Jin’s face as he glances back at the corner Jimin is stewing in. “I would be honored to help you punish him, babe.”
“That’s what I figured,” I smile briefly at him before slowly sliding my hands up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck. Holding them there, I press the lightest of kisses to the corner of his lips.
Jin’s breath hitches in his throat.
I run my tongue against the seam of his mouth, taking my time and savoring the sweet taste of him. His lips part to let me in, my tongue sliding across his. I grind against him as we kiss, moving my hips in such a way that makes him groan and lean back harder against the wall.
“What the fuck is going on in here?”
Ripping my mouth from Jin’s, I turn to face the newcomer.
Namjoon stands in the doorway holding yet another cup of coffee, his face thunderous. "What do the three of you think you're doing? This is the goddamn library, you heathens!”
Seokjin jumps out of his skin in fright, pushing me away faster than I can anticipate. Stumbling back, I crash into Jimin – who apparently had ventured out of his assigned corner. Brat.
“The shades were open!” Namjoon continues to rant as he flicks the aforementioned item down to cover the door’s window, “Did you want people to see you?”
He reads the expression on my face correctly, “Oh, but you did, didn’t you, (y/n)?” Namjoon approaches where I’m still captured in Jimin’s embrace. Glaring down at me, he taunts, “So quick to stake your claim; but, make no mistake, they were mine first.”
Shaking out of Jimin’s hold, I straighten, raising my chin to meet Namjoon’s gaze full-on, “That’s interesting. I didn’t realize you were so lenient with your partners.”
Jimin makes a choking noise behind me. Jin stands behind Namjoon, waving a hand in front of his throat to clearly tell me to stop talking. I keep going, “Perhaps I need to teach you how to discipline.”
Namjoon flips me around, shoves Jimin out of the way, and bends me facedown across the table.
“Jin,” He says, his voice growly, “Stand in the hall and let me know if you can hear us.”
The sound of the door opening and closing alerts me that Jin followed Namjoon’s instructions without a word.
“Jimin,” He continues, “Hold (y/n)’s hands out in front of her.” Jimin ascquieces, staring apologetically down at me as he tugs my hands towards him.
“This is cute,” I say, “I always love holding Jimin-ie’s hands.”
Thwack. The stinging imprint of Namjoon’s palm on my ass burns deliciously. I arch my back, looking over my shoulder at him with a half-smile. “Do it harder, daddy.”
A breath sucks in between his lips as I utter the word I know will get him feeling as hot as me. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby girl,” Namjoon grits out, his jaw clenched tightly.
“Oh, daddy,” I say, “Don’t you remember? I’m the fucking Queen.”
“Was that a chess pun? Nice.” A muffled voice followed by a squeaky laugh sounds through the door.
“Seokjin,” Namjoon seethes, flying over to open the door and drag the older boy back inside, “I thought I told you to let me know if you could hear us.”
I tug out of Jimin’s gentle hold, straighten back up, and then situate myself into a sitting position on the table.
I watch amusedly as Jin shimmies his way out of Joon’s grasp, “Yah! It’s not my fault I get intense FOMO. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. Besides, I only heard you because I had my ear pressed to the door.”
Jimin stifles a giggle. I let out a full-on laugh. Namjoon mumbles what sounds like a plea to some higher power under his breath.
“See what I have to deal with?” Namjoon turns to me, shaking his head. “Are you sure you want to sign up for this?”
“That depends,” I swing my legs back and forth as I stay perched on the table, “Are you going to keep spanking me?”
The boy who had just unhesitatingly bent me over to punish me now blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, probably? You have quite a mouth on you, baby.”
Hopping off the table, I laugh, “Good answer. Ten points to Gryffindor.”
“Woo!” Jin cheers, “Nice job on the House Points, Joon-ie!”
“I am in love with idiots,” Jimin sighs.
Grabbing my phone from my backpack, I let out a slight yell as I read the time. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I scramble to shove all of my textbooks back into my bag.
“What is it, noona?” Jimin worries, appearing next to me. “Are you late for class?”
“No,” I cry, “It’s so much worse. I’m late for my weekly Animal Crossing discord chat! Heath is gonna kill me…”
“Heath?” Jin scowls, “Who is this Heath you speak of?”
“Chill, fam,” I shrug my backpack onto my shoulders and stare contemplatively down at the three different coffees. “You can’t get jealous every time I mention a new person. What’s next? You’re gonna come for Tom Nook?”
Namjoon - who must play Animal Crossing - stifles a laugh as Jin pouts. “She has a point, Jin.”
“And so does a pencil. Big whoop,” Jin scowls with his arms folded.
“Aw, Seokjin-ie,” I coo, reaching over to pinch his cheek, “Don’t be mad. You’ll get to spend all day with me on Saturday after volunteering! What are we doing, anyways?” I level Joon with my best side-eye as I ask that question, knowing he is more likely than not the mastermind behind our planned date.
“It’s going to be great, noona!” Jimin pipes up, hugging me from the side, “You’re going to love it…You’re going to love us.” He murmurs the last part, probably not meaning for me to hear; but, I do.
God, I do.
“We’ll pick you up before volunteering,” Joon says, “Just bring yourself and a change of clothes.”
“What?” I decide - fuck it - and attempt to grab all three coffees, “No overnight bag?”
Jin, who had just taken a sip of his own coffee, spews it everywhere. “Pack one,” He gasps out in between coughs.
Laughing, I walk to the door, which Jimin kindly opens for me. “Okay, I’ll think about it. Ah, I’m so late. Jimin and Jin, I’ll punish you at a later time. Joon, you can try to punish me at a later time.” Living for their astonished expressions, I wave as best I can with three coffees in hand, “Bye, babes! Text me-e-e.”
As I make my way out of the library, it hits me that I only have one more day to prepare for this date. Fucking hell…
a/n: this is such a filler of a chap with a tinge of drama mixed in, hehe. the next one is gonna be that date tho uwu stay tuuuuuuned and thanks 4 reading
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Masquerade
Request: Can you write a Hotch x reader where the BAU team attends a ballroom party after helping a rich man from an unsub as thanks. Hotch meets the reader and they talk and dance all night. The reader is intrigued that Hotch is a profiler and at midnight she gives him her shoe and tells him to find her based only on that. Thanks!!!
here you go @lavenderblossom12 !!!! i hope you enjoy this !!! i actually had a ton of fun writing it and i usually have such a tough time writing for hotch. if it’s good maybe i’ll write a part 2 ;)
key:
(Y/H/C): your hair color
(Y/D/J): your dream job
(Y/E/C): your eye color
word count: 2.5k
“Hotchner,” Hotch answered with his usual monotone draw, narrowing his already narrow brow as he listened to whatever the caller was saying on the other end. “Well, I suppose that would be alright. Send me the location. Thanks.” He hung up and turned the phone over and over in his hands before looking to the ceiling.
“What is it, Hotch? Is everything okay?” JJ asked, concerned.
“The BAU team was invited to a masquerade party to celebrate our returning the Schaffer’s daughter,” He said, sounding unsure. He recognized the caller ID as soon as he saw the D.C area code, having spent extensive time with the family in pursuit of the most recent psychopath. They had gotten a location at the most crucial time, they had shown up right before the unsub slit the young woman’s throat. They apprehended him in a matter of minutes and were able to return the girl safely to her family. She had been the target in a war of spite between the unsub and her father, since he had personally fired him from his company 3 months later without any sort of rhyme or reason, beyond slow work ethic. He was furious and decided to get back at him by taking the most precious thing in his world; his 19 year old daughter.
“Well, that’s never happened before.” Reid said, looking confused. He hated parties, clubs, anything of the sort. The loud music made it hard for him to think and he had a tough time connecting with other people, his tangents tended to turn others off from him. Hotch remained unsure about agreeing so quickly, but decided not to press the issue. It was the right thing to do; it was, after all, partially in their honor. The team could deal with it for one night, not to mention they had been working especially hard and could use a single night to let loose and celebrate their work, especially since this case had been a win for the good guys.
It was set to take place that Saturday and although attendance was not required, it was recommended. This was to celebrate the return of a young girl and it was to thank them, so it was only right of them to go.
At least, that was the way Hotch was going to continue justifying it to himself, whether the team or anyone else understood or not. He was going to find a way to enjoy this party if it took everything in him, or even all the liquor at the open bar. Tonight was about relaxing. Every single person in his life never failed to remind him how uptight he could be, or how he could never relax. With all the things he’d seen since starting at the BAU, how could he?
He straightened his tie in the mirror of his small apartment and took a deep breath, before making his way to the ballroom where the party was being hosted. He had apparently been assigned to a table with the rest of the team, of which he was the first to arrive, and he eagerly awaited his fellow agents’ arrivals. Prentiss came shortly after Hotch, wearing a long red gown that accentuated her curves without trying to make a spectacle of herself, followed by Penelope, who was the complete opposite. Her dress was colorful and bright, just like her personality- and typical work attire. JJ wore a gown similar to Emily’s and Reid had gone with a classic all black suit. Derek was what he called “fashionably late”, sporting a suit that was similar to Reid’s, except navy blue as opposed to solid black.
It didn’t take a profiler to see what each agent’s outfit said about them; Reid didn’t want to be noticed, Morgan was impartial since he got attention no matter what he wore, and the girls’ dresses and makeup spoke more to their individual personalities. JJ was able to snag a babysitter for Henry and brought Will as a plus one, so she dressed more suited to being with someone. Classy and elegant, without attracting attention to herself. Emily was similar in the sense of class and elegance, but she didn’t bring anyone so attracting someone else was more of her goal with her dress and her overall demeanor. Hotch, on the other hand, didn’t have much of a motive for anything beyond looking nice and enjoying his time off from work and his typical worries, sporting a plain black suit with a classic red tie. Nevertheless, all the agents looked fantastic and it showed as they slowly eased deeper into the party.
Hotch excused himself from Reid as he went on about the periodic table, he wasn’t even sure how the prior conversation of the butterfly room on the second floor could possibly have any relation, but of course Reid found a way to bring something like that into a conversation. Hotch shook his head to himself as he approached, being only one of two who were at the bar, besides the bartender.
“I’ll take a Kettle One on the rocks, please.” Hotch took a long drag from the glass as soon as the bartender set it in front of him, earning him a small chuckle from the person beside him.
“Thirsty?” You asked, your eyes alight. The liquor went down his throat icy, forcing him to pause for a second before responding. He offered a small smile.
“Not quite.” He said quietly, looking down into the glass.
“Fair enough.” You took a sip from the wine in your hand as you looked across the room, throwing a lock of (Y/H/C) hair over your shoulder. Hotch took another sip himself before inching slightly closer to you.
“It’s a lovely venue.” Hotch said quietly.
“It really is. I came to a wedding that took place here about a month ago, for one of my best friends from college,” You paused to take another drag from your wine. “I gotta be honest though, I like what they did with the place now much better.” She set down the empty glass on the bar and the bartender filled you up without you saying a word. You took the glass in your hand once more, looking to Hotch.
“Is it safe to assume you’re one of the guests of honor this evening?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Yeah, how did you know?” Hotch asked.
“Well, you’re sitting at a table that is slightly apart from the other tables, and the other guests at your table who I saw you sitting with before are all glued to one another, seeming as if they’re the only ones they know here.” You said.
“Wow. I guess we do sort of stand out.” Hotch replied, taking another sip of his own drink, feeling the effect slowly loosen him up. He downed the last few swigs and offered you his hand.
“Care to dance?” Hotch was never the dancing sort, except when he went out with his ex-wife and/or coworkers. Haley enjoyed dancing enough, as did Hotch, but they never found the time to do so. However, tonight was about relaxing, and ignoring everything in him that told him not to at least try and enjoy himself. He was going to enjoy this party, he was determined to.
A blush crept up to your cheeks as you accepted his hand, entering the dance floor from the side. Hotch placed his hands on your waist, and you rested yours on his chest as you slowly swayed around the floor.
“So, tell me about yourself.” You said, smiling up at him. You had to hand it to him, he was extremely attractive, and his elusive smiles were something that clearly had to be earned, and you seemed to be doing a pretty good job so far.
“Well, uh, there really isn’t much to tell.” He said, looking around for something to trigger a memory as to what he could use to impress you.
“Come on, a handsome guy like you? I’m sure you’ve got some sort of exciting life.” Now it was Hotch’s turn to blush; he wasn’t used to hearing things like that.
“Well, I’m an FBI agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, so I guess that’s pretty exciting.” He shrugged as your eyes widened, fascinated.
“That’s pretty incredible, I gotta be honest.” You said, closing your dropped jaw. He smiled again, somehow making him even more attractive.
“Thanks. It’s hard work, but it pays off. What do you do?” He asked, readjusting his hands a little higher on your waist. You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed, but ignored it.
“I’m a (Y/D/J).” You grinned. Hotch brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, as blood rushed to your cheeks.
“Wow, that sounds exciting.” He whispered. The slower song had ended and led its way to a more upbeat song, and Hotch saw JJ dragging Will and Reid out onto the dance floor, followed by Morgan, Garcia, and Prentiss, who winked in Hotch’s direction.
You dropped your hands from his shoulders and grabbed his hand, leading him in the direction of your table where you had set down your wine glass previously. You took a long gulp, and turned your attention back to Hotch.
“What do you do for the FBI?” You asked, steadying yourself on a nearby chair.
“I’m a, uh, profiler. My team and I work together to create a profile of both a victim and/or the perpetrator, and use that to help solve the case.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“That’s fascinating.” You said, in awe. That sounded like the coolest job you’d ever heard, definitely something straight out of a movie.
“I’m going to grab another drink, did you need a refill?” Hotch asked, eyeing your emptying glass. You paused for a second to check yourself, and see if another could cause you to embarrass yourself. You decided that if you paced yourself, you would be fine.
“Sure, chardonnay.” You downed the rest of the contents and handed the glass to Hotch with a sweet smile. You watched as he made his way to the bar, confident. Another man approached him, and sent a small grin in your direction before turning his attention back to the man you’d spent almost half the evening with, but you didn’t even know his name. That was the funny thing about these sort of corporate parties; names were almost never necessary, you have the most incredible evening, but never ruin the memory with names and empty promises. You were interested in the fact that the man had never even mentioned anything about names, numbers, or anything of the sort. You almost always had to bring up the idea yourself, whether it was after one glass of wine or several. Most usually wanted to sleep with you, something that usually became apparent by this time of the night.
Not with this man, however. He was sweet and sure of himself, but not so sure that he thought he could sweet talk you back to his apartment. He genuinely seemed intrigued by you, and you by him.
“That’s a pretty girl you’ve been chatting up, Hotch.” Morgan appeared at Hotch’s side, ordering himself another beer.
“Isn’t she beautiful? She’s intelligent, too. And miraculously interested in our line of work,” Hotch replied with a small laugh, taking a sip from his glass.
“You think there’ll be a second date?” Morgan asked.
Hotch sorta shrugged and didn’t answer the question, just picked up your wine and his kettle and was off to find you. Luckily for him, you hadn’t wandered far, just to look at some of the paintings that were hanging up around the venue.
“Your wine, my lady.”
“Why thank you, kind sir.” You giggled as you took a short drag, sighing in content. “I hate to say it, but the evening is almost over..” You trailed off, looking toward the giant clock on the wall.
“Wow, I didn’t realize it had gotten that late.” It was nearing 12:15, and the party ended around 12:30.
“Yeah.” You took another sip of your wine as Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph” filled the room. “This is one of my favorites, shall we?” He set his glass down on the table beside yours, took your hand, and led you onto the dance floor once again. This time, he allowed his hands to sit directly on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“You look beautiful, by the way.” He said with a shy smile.
“Thank you, so do you.” You giggled. This made his entire face break out into a grin as he lifted your arm, indicating for you to do a small spin. You dressed fanned out around you as Hotch brought you close again. You’d lost your footing amid the spin, not used to spinning in such high heels and after about 3 glasses of wine. You giggled a little bit more.
Hotch licked his lips as he took in the color of your eyes, (Y/E/C), sparkling and bright. He smiled a little and looked down at your lips, which were a lovely shade of pink, slightly parted. You could instantly tell what he was thinking, and closed the gap quickly. He stiffened in surprise, and then melted into it. You pulled away breathlessly, grinning from ear to ear.
The song ended faster than you would have liked, when you got a wild idea. It was something you’d always wanted to do, something you’d only ever seen in movies. There’s a first time for everything, right?
You pulled him down a little so you could whisper in his ear while leaning on him, taking off your left shoe.
“Come find me, Mr. FBI agent.” You whispered, pressing the shoe into his hand and walking away, purse in hand, in the direction of the exit.
Hotch’s eyes widened when he finally processed what had just happened, Morgan and Prentiss quickly approaching.
“What was that?” Prentiss asked, somewhat coherently.
“I… I have to find her.” Hotch said, staring at where you had sauntered right out of the ballroom, and beyond his reach.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner x oc#aaron hotchner imagines#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x oc#dr spencer reid#spence#spencer reid x reader#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid imagines#derek morgan#derek morgan x reader#agent derek morgan#penelope x derek#penelope garcia x derek morgan#derek morgan imagines#derek morgan x oc#jason gideon#david rossi#agent rossi#agent reid#emily prentiss#emily x reader#emily prentiss x reader#jj#jennifer jareau
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Warning: Pretty dark words ahead ig
Ofc MC has a backstory. Her creation is an inspiration from a discontinued series I read a few years ago. Her backstory is similar to the reader in that fic.She's from the same world as Yuuken and she's lived in Europe :). I'm gonna tell you about her ability first.
Magic: She's herself has a magic that allows her to manipulate any beings(not limited to human) by using music. By singing certain songs she can manipulate people to do different things (Paralyze,Dance or even commit suicide,etc.....). Even using instruments can manipulate people as well for example if she plays this song (One of her favs), it's really make ppl feel tranquil, relaxed mentally and physically ofc if she can make ppl tranquil she can also drive them insane. She has a name for her magic now that she's in Twisted Wonderland it's called "Music Conductor".
P/s: Azul is trying to get her to work for him. With her magic,no way he's gonna pass it off
Oooh, that's a really cool unique magic!
Kinda like a siren, but instead of luring, she can do whatever she wants with them with the lyrics, that's nice!
I mean, Aepper's unique magic is like Neo's from RWBY (where it's called a semblance.)
I'll just ramble mine to you cuz :'))))) I'll just copy and paste-:
His unique magic allows him to create a 6 face black cuboid room to either work as an elevator to teleport him to a location he knows, or a shield, though he can’t really attack much in there.
He can also completely disguise himself as someone else, he just need to think of how he wants to look like, create illusions to confuse opponents, however he won’t be able to talk, so his muteness might bust his own disguise and the illusions will be broken over a period of time, or when the opponent breaks it themselves given how much the illusion can take.
The stronger the illusion, the more so called “aura” is used. Running out can mean he can’t make another illusion or teleport or create a shield until he recuperates.
Too frequent using his unique magic can cause him to tire him physically. Luckily, not overblot because I’m lazy to draw one and he’s not that angsty-.
Yeah, that's basically it-
But I really like the unique magic of your OC, MC! I think it's pretty neat! ^^
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