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binniebakery · 2 months

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🇲🇪🇱🇹🇮🇳🇬 🇵🇴🇮🇳🇹 ☔

Non Idol AU Best Friend!Soobin x Gn!Reader Friends to lovers, Fluff! Summary♡: Today was the day Soobin was going to confess to you, but what happens when the plan he had meticulously planned out falls apart (literally) right in front of him? Warnings♡: Soobin describes reader as pretty, mutual pinning, tooth rotting fluff! lmk if I missed anything ♡ A/N♡: I put my heart n soul into this fic.. this was kinda based off of two songs I've been listening to teehee. I really was in a soft mood so please enjoy! ♡ (also new fic layout..ish? do we likeee?~ heh)

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Melting Point" By Zerobaseone

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Amusement Park" By Baekhyun

0:09 ━●────────── 2:47 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

-------˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹ 𐦍 ˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹------- You rubbed your hands together against the harsh cold. Smiling as you watched your breath swirled around the air in front of your face. He should be here in about..

Your phone read 6:05 pm.

Two minutes. You thought to yourself as you rocked back and forth on your heels. Soobin always arrived two minutes after his ‘almost there!’ text. You knew him like the back of your hand. You watched as the crowd around you began to pick up in speed to beat the oncoming weather, hearing the cars whirring by and the sound of thunder in the distance. You sigh sticking your hand out to feel for any incoming droplets.

Hopefully, Soobin brought an umbrella because you were for sure about to get soaked by the looks of those heavy clouds rolling in. Meanwhile, just around the block, a six-foot large male is huffing as his footsteps slam against the ground. Anyone walking by could easily tell that this boy was on a mission, running as if his life depended on it. Said boy receiving multiple stares as he frantically ran through the busy sidewalk, struggling to open the large umbrella in his hand.

Today was the day he was going to confess to you. Everything that Soobin had kept to himself for the entirety of your friendship was now going to pour out of him and he prays will finally reach you.

You were smart! He knows that for a fact, but you somehow always managed to completely misunderstand Soobin’s indirect confessions and (quite awkward) methods of hinting that he was utterly in love with you.

Soobin tried to look his best for the occasion, he really did! But alas, in an attempt to pick the perfect outfit, time slipped by and he was running late to pick you up from work. This was your usual daily routine. Soobin leaves his job at the comic book store at 4 and heads home to change so he can pick you up from your shift at the local bakery.

A straight thirty minutes from his house to your job but of course he never minded. He was never late to pick you up so you two could head to your favorite arcade to unwind after work. No matter how many times you would protest about the long journey, Soobin always made it his job as your best friend to ensure you were safe. Soobin wanted to spend every second he could with you, therefore he was never late.

That is until today.

Soobin sees your figure from afar, shifting side to side, humming to yourself as you happily daydream about whatever first comes to your mind. After all, you could be a needle in a haystack and he’d always manage to find you. Your aura was just that strong, it always pulled him in like a magnet.

As he watches your pretty head deep in thought, Soobin approaches you wondering what you could be pondering about. Probably thinking about dinner, he chuckles to himself and he rapidly makes his way over to you.

“Y/n! I– I’m here! Sorry if I– if I made you w– wait!” Soobin panted as his large body bent over to catch his breath after sprinting like a madman from the train station to the bakery. He was never that athletic really, but best believe he would run across the whole city if it was for you.

“Binnie! Are you okay?” You chuckled as you pat his back, offering to hold his umbrella for him while he recovered from his marathon.

“Y- yeah! Jesus, I think I just burst a l- lung” Soobin coughs and grins shyly, adorable dimples on show.

You smile endearingly at the tall boy, those dimples were always your weak point. Soobin knew that too and would always use it against you. Anytime he wanted to convince you to do anything, all he had to do was pull that innocent smile and you were immediately whipped.

“You look nice today ‘bin!” You giggle as you ruffle the top of his head. Soobin and his now red ears immediately stand up fully and quickly attempt to fix his hair. He tried so hard this morning to fix it just the way you liked it! Bangs, pushed aside to show just the right amount of his forehead.

‘It makes you look like a drama actor!’ You’d exclaim, cheeks flushed because he really did look good, almost too good. Soobin wore his hair like that more often, but you always made sure he knew that his long bangs almost covering his gentle eyes were your favorite look from him. There was something soft and tender when his hair was messily fluffed around his handsome face.

Like when he just finished 3 rounds of your arcade’s intense dancing game, or when you were in your room lying on the floor laughing about everything and anything, or even now, hair slightly disheveled from the marathon he had just run.

He was always a sight to see.

“You um.. ready to go?” Soobin clears his throat, looking away in an attempt to hide his reddening ears from the way your gaze just eats through his self-control. It took everything in his power to not just pull you in and kiss you right then and there.

“Yeah! Let’s go~” You chirp, and before you march out of the safety of your bakery’s foyer, Soobin grabs your wrist and gently pulls you back to him.

“Hey, did you forget that it’s starting to rain? Let me cover us first silly,” Soobin takes the umbrella from your hand and holds it above you both, but not before he gifts you a flick to your forehead.

“Ow- okay sorry!” You look up and realize that it has in fact started drizzling. You laugh at your silliness (this totally wasn’t because you realize Soobin has your brain turning to mush and you can’t focus on what's going on around you) and to Soobin, it’s like the gates of heaven have opened. He thinks, no he knows, that he could spend the rest of his life hearing you laugh like that.

Your walk to the arcade continues, and Soobin relishes every second he gets to feel your warm body close to his. Just not close enough.

But today is different, Soobin had a plan.

As the rain got heavier Soobin began to feel more antsy, although he hadn’t planned for the rain he was not going to let it stop him from giving you the ultimately perfect confession you deserved.

Part one of his plan: Pick you up from work. Was a success.

Part two: Stop by the flower shop on your way to the arcade.

Soobin had called a week prior, begging the owner to preserve your favorite color and favorite flowers to make the perfect arrangement for this day exactly. Everything was paid for and all he had to do was show up with the qr code on his phone, then boom! The next part of his plan would be set in motion.

Part three: Confess in front of the arcade. The place where you first hung out together, and you and Soobin’s favorite spot to hang.

As you approach the flower shop, Soobin’s heart races quicker and he begins to question if he’s able to do this confession after all. You just looked too perfect next to him, and things were already perfect the way they were. He didn’t want to ruin the friendship and close bond you both had if you didn’t feel the same.

“One sec y/n, I gotta stop here and grab an order for my mom,” Soobin hands you the umbrella as he hops inside the shop. The perfect plan to surprise you in front of the arcade.

Soobin quickly exits with the bouquet and you remain completely oblivious to his plan. Perfect.

“Oh..! Your mom has such lovely taste!” You coo and Soobin holds the flowers away from you, he was not going to let you sneak in a peek at the card he had written for you.

“Mhm, doesn’t she? Sorry for keeping you waiting, let's go” Soobin smiles and takes the umbrella from you once again. You feel your cheeks warm up as you continue your walk at how he always managed to be the biggest gentleman.

Luck was not on Soobin’s side today. The universe may as well have just struck him with lightning and he’d be happier with the outcome.

For the split second Soobin decides to adjust his coat, having his arm hold the bouquet just out of the umbrella’s cover, rain began to pour

The flowers were completely drenched.

“No–!” He exclaims and you gasp. “Oh no! Are they ruined?” You hold your breath as Soobin inspects the flowers.

“Yeah.. they’re ruined..” He sighed. Of course this happens, first his hair doesn’t want to cooperate this morning, he runs late because he couldn’t decide on an outfit, it rains, and now the flowers he got you are completely destroyed. Including the card!

You two had just arrived at the arcade. Soobin wants nothing more than to just curl up in a drain and let himself rot.

“I’m sorry Soobin.. Should we go back? I can pay for new flowers for her!” You tilt your head and Soobin just wants to hold you by the cheeks and kiss your forehead at how sweet and caring you were. You were an angel sent from heaven just for him.

No. Soobin wasn’t going to just let this dumb weather ruin his perfect confession. He was going to persevere. He was going to confess to you today no matter what happens.

“Y/n, look I need to tell you– wait look out!”

Soobin grabs you by the arm, pulling you in as quickly as he could. A car zooms by, driving slightly too close to the sidewalk and almost completely drenching you.

Soobin was never athletic– Soobin was never lucky– Soobin was always a stuttery, clumsy mess around you, but maybe this moment wasn’t about that.

Soobin pulls you in, umbrella perfectly positioned to save you from being drenched.

He doesn’t realize how hard he’s pulling and you fall perfectly into his chest, your hand reaching over his grabbing the umbrella for leverage. You look up at Soobin, eyes wide and face a perfect pink.

Ah serendipity, maybe luck was on Soobin’s side today after all.

Soobin was on a rollercoaster. Heart ready to escape from his chest and climb into you, squeezing itself through to be one with yours.

His heart was like an amusement park for you to enjoy anytime you wanted. He’d wait for you patiently, arm open for you to hang on to. He’d take you over to the Ferris wheel made just for you, show you the intricate threads that made up the thoughts and dreams that connected his heart to hopefully one day, yours. You’d have all the sweets you wanted, churros, cotton candy, and ice cream mixed with all your favorite flavors. He just needed you to turn in the ticket for free admission.

Why was he so in love with you?

Just the warmth of your fingertips was enough for the angels to sing their finest hymns. Your touch sent electricity jolting up his arm and down his chest right into his poor beating heart.

Could you feel it? The way his heart pounded by just feeling your mere touch. How long had he wished for something like this?

“Y/n.. Look, the flowers– They were for you! And today’s just been the worst..” Soobin is stumbling over his words but he’s more than desperate for you to finally hear him, to finally know what he’s felt for you. “ I- I like you! As more than a friend..! No– I love you!”

You feel your heart burst into fireworks as you stare into Soobin’s eyes. You stare at each other for a few seconds but it feels like years.

“I..” Your words get caught on the way out. You had loved him for so long, and although you and Soobin weren’t together your whole lives it had always felt that way.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down, connecting your lips together.

Soobin is utterly shocked and drops the umbrella to the ground and places his hands gently on your waist. The effort you both made to stay dry now in vain as you two were now drenched but it didn’t matter.

It was as if every clover he had found, every dandelion he blew, every star he wished on, every prayer he mumbled had been redeemed the moment you pulled away and looked up at him with a gaze that just poured out unconditional love and affection. He just felt that lucky to have you in his life.

He knew your answer without you even opening your mouth. After all, who else could read your mind better than him?

You let out a soft and cheery laugh as you gently caress one of Soobin’s blushing ears.

This was his melting point. It was all like a scene out of one of the sappy romance animes you watched together. The moment was ethereal compared to anything either of you had ever dreamed of. His soul felt as if it dripping into yours under the cold rainy sky. Your warmth enveloped him and Soobin completely believes he could have stayed like this with you forever.

And with the way he pulls you in for another kiss, you could have just remained that way.

#BakeryTreat♡#txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt fluff #soobin x y/n #soobin x reader #soobin fluff #soobin #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #soobin soft hours #soobin soft thoughts

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1800-fight-me · 2 years

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Freaks & Geeks

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (No Y/N)

Rating: T (although as a general rule my blog is 18+)

Warnings: fluff, cursing, making out

Word count: 3.7k

Author’s note: I’m back bitches and I’ve got a new hyperfixation bc whattup I’m Jared I'm 19 and I never fucking learned how to be normal about fictional characters (lol)

SO! The reader is described as a senior in high school with Eddie and is also 18! The only physical description of the reader is that she’s shorter than Eddie. (I think- lmk if that’s not the case) Also there will definitely be at least one more part to this story!

P.S. Here’s a link to my masterlist if you’d like to check out my other writing! Also! My taglist is always open- leave me a comment or an ask if you’d like to be added!

Part Two Series Masterlist

“Here goes the freak again,” your friend Victoria muttered to you.

You looked up from your book to see Eddie Munson across the lunchroom standing on one of the tables ranting about god knows what.

You snorted a laugh, not at her comment, but at his theatrics.

You admired him honestly. He was himself, unlike most of the phoneys in this godforsaken school. It also helped that he was pretty.

“Honestly what is this guy’s deal?”

“Probably that the popular crowd are annoying as fuck,” you said and she laughed.

“He’s right about that,” she conceded.

“Did you hear that Chrissy and Jason-“

“Don’t really care,” you said, still staring at Eddie.

“Careful, the hearts are starting to show in your eyes,” she said with a giggle and an elbow to your side.

“What?! Are not!” you hissed at her and finally ripped your eyes from Eddie to look at her.

She continued her laughter and you elbowed her back which caused her to laugh even louder.

“It's not funny,” you muttered and returned your attention to your book.

“Sure, like anyone could possibly have a crush on Eddie “the freak” Munson.”

“Yeah, can you imagine?” you replied with an unconvincing laugh and grimace.

But every time Victoria was distracted you glanced over at Eddie, you couldn’t help yourself. It was a habit you were frankly addicted to.

He grinned at his friend next to him and you sighed wishing he was smiling at you.

You wondered if his fluffy curly hair was as soft as it looked. You wanted to run your hands through it.

And his hands, adorned with gaudy rings, were large. You knew they were, you handed him a pencil in class last week and it looked tiny in his hand. You couldn’t stop your mind from drifting and thinking about what it would feel like to have those hands on you.

And his eyes, anytime he spoke to you in class you felt like you were drowning in the soft warmth of his brown eyes. How could anyone accuse him of being the devil when he has such soft innocent puppy eyes?

“Hello?” Victoria snapped her fingers near your face in an attempt to get your attention.

“Huh?”

“Dear lord, you actually are checking him out aren’t you?”

Everyone around you was packing up and heading to the next class.

You snatched your book and the partially eaten sandwich in front of you and mumbled, “I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I'm heading to class.”

“Wait!” She grabbed your arm as she caught up with you and walked towards your respective classes together

“Sorry, I won't tease you anymore. Even if you have terrible taste in guys.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t you have a crush on one of Jason’s lackeys?”

“Shhh!”

“He’s a douche just like the rest of them,” you muttered.

“Eddie is a drug dealer!”

“Yeah but he’s nice,” you said with a shrug.

“Everyone demonizes him for being a dealer like they’re not all buying from him. It’s hypocritical,” you said firmly.

“Damn that’s a good point. You sure you're not being influenced by how, and I quote, pretty he is?”

You whipped your head around and glared at her as you reached the door to your next class.

“You said that entirely too loud,” you hissed and she laughed and waved as she walked away.

You walked into the classroom and slumped into your seat and rested your head on your desk. You tried your hardest to banish the conversation from your mind, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the metalhead that was late to class, to no one’s surprise.

Class started and you struggled to pay attention.

Eddie slipped in a few minutes late with a half assed excuse and a wink towards you as you giggled at the teacher’s exasperation.

The teacher handed out worksheets, busywork yet again.

God, senior year was such a drag. You sighed as you pulled a pencil out of your backpack.

“Pssst.”

You looked back to see Eddie smirking at you.

“Any chance I could borrow a pencil?”

You raised your eyebrows at him as your lips turned up into a smile.

You nodded and turned to grab another pencil from your bag.

“Maybe you should come to class more prepared,” you teased as you handed it to him.

“Now why would I do that when I have you?” He said with an award winning smile and a wink.

You looked away, visibly flustered and grinning.

You heard him chuckle and you just about melted into your seat.

You managed to finish your worksheet, but couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back at Eddie a few times.

His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he, wait a minute, he wasn’t even working on the worksheet. He was doodling on the back of it.

You snorted a laugh and he glanced up at you. He smiled at you, again, and you tried not to swoon. Honestly, the crush you have on him is ridiculous at this point.

“You know the answer to number one?”

“Yeah, it’s 4.7,” you whispered back.

“Awesome, and what about number two?”

“Eddie!” you whisper-yelled.

He had the decency to look sheepish at your admonition.

You rolled your eyes and checked to make sure your teacher wasn’t watching. She wasn’t, thank goodness, as she was talking to someone in the front row.

You discretely handed him your worksheet and with a smile he quickly copied all of your answers before slipping it back to you.

You put the paper back neatly on your desk and breathed a sigh of relief and stopped watching your teacher like a hawk.

“Thanks. You’re the best,” Eddie said as he reached over and squeezed your hand.

You were really worried about the power he had over you. All he had to do was bat his pretty brown eyes and you were putty in his hands.

You were not the type of person to cheat or let others cheat off you, honestly Eddie is the only person you’d ever even let copy your homework.

And you hated it but breaking the rules with him thrilled you. You wanted to let him corrupt you even more.

You’d always been so uptight, you never broke rules, you were the perfect student and daughter, had good grades, and never partied. You were so bored with your life.

You admired Eddie because he didn’t give a fuck what others thought about him. You wished you could be so bold.

The teacher called out both your names in a reprimanding tone which caused you both to whip your heads around towards her and Eddie dropped his hand from its place on top of yours.

“Mr. Munson, have you completed your worksheet?”

“Oh absolutely,” he replied with a shit eating grin and you stifled your giggle. “Good, everyone pass them to the front of the class. If you’re done you may leave.”

You and Eddie both rush to pass your papers forward and leave the classroom.

He threw his arm around your shoulder as you reached the door and walked along with you in the nearly empty hallway towards your locker.

“I’m in your debt, what ever can I do to repay you?” he asked in a dramatic tone.

You smiled and rolled your eyes, “I don’t know, maybe bring your own pencil to class?”

“Ah but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to talk to you.”

“You don’t need an excuse to talk to me,” you mumbled as you looked down at the floor.

“Really?” he asked with a smirk and you smiled bashfully as you looked up at him. You were hyper aware of his arm around your shoulder and the warmth of his side against yours.

“Have you ever played D&D?”

You raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled.

“Right, right, sorry, you’re too pretty to play such a nerdy game.”

“I did not say tha-”

“I’m saying it. You’re really pretty,” he said as you both stopped walking and stood in front of your locker. He removed his arm from your shoulder and placed his hand on the locker next to you as you leaned back on it.

“Y-you’re really pretty too,” you said as you bit your lip and looked up at him.

“Do you want to hang out later?” he asked, his voice softer.

“To play D&D?” you ask skeptically.

He laughed, “No, we can do whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You smiled then said, “Wait, this isn’t just because I let you cheat off me, right?”

He placed his hand on his heart and staggered back a few steps like you stabbed him. He gasped and widened his eyes dramatically, which caused you to huff out a laugh.

“Of course not. How could you think that?” He said, lips turned into a grin as he came close to you again. He placed his hands on the locker behind you, one on each side of your head and your laughter caught in your throat.

“I’ve been working up the courage to ask you out for a while. What do you say? Tomorrow night around seven? I can pick you up.”

“Y-yeah that sounds really nice.”

The bell rang and the hallway was suddenly flooded with other students.

“Bitchin’. I’ll see you then,” he placed his hand on the side of your face and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

You looked up at him, wide eyed and flustered as your heart raced.

He smiled at you one more time before he walked away.

You heaved a breath as you watched him disappear into the crowd and leaned your head back onto the locker and closed your eyes.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” you muttered to yourself as you turned around and opened your locker.

—--------------------

The rest of your day passed uneventfully, though maybe that was because you were so distracted with thoughts of Eddie you couldn’t focus on much else.

“Victoria!” you yelled and grabbed her by the arm as she walked past you without seeing you.

She laughed, “Hey, I was looking for you!”

She linked her arm in yours and started walking with you out of the school and towards the parking lot.

“So I heard…”

“Hold up. Me first. I have news.”

She smirked and her eyes sparkled like she knew what you were going to say.

“Eddie asked me out!”

She squealed and you couldn’t help but squeal with her.

“I was hoping that’s what happened! The whole school was talking about you and him!”

You laughed and couldn’t stop smiling.

“Yeah he asked me out after class. I’m freaking out, we have to go to the mall. I have nothing to wear,” you said as you tugged her towards your car.

“Yay! This is the best day ever. I knew you had a massive crush on him.”

“Yeah, great detective skills, Sherlock,” you snorted as you let go of her arm and unlocked your car.

As soon as you both were settled in the car you tore off towards the mall, intent on finding the perfect outfit.

______

“I’m so nervous I think I’m gonna throw up,” you said, phone cradled between your shoulder and head as you finished painting your nails.

“Take some deep breaths. It’s going to be okay,” Victoria soothes.

She heard you take the deep breath she ordered and she laughed.

“You have the perfect outfit. You’re going to look-”

“Bitchin’?”

She snorted, “Yeah hun, you’re going to look bitchin’.”

“What if…”

“He’s gonna love you. I promise.”

“It’s not that…”

The silence lingered for a few moments.

“What?”

“I might have exaggerated my history with guys the last time we played truth or dare,” you said as you bit your lip.

She gasped, “Truth or dare is sacred! How could you?”

“I was embarrassed!”

“So? How far have you gone?”

“Um… well it was like a year ago and-”

“Seth, right?”

“Yeah, we uh we only ever made out a little bit,” you said, nerves coloring your tone.

“What? He told the whole school that-”

“Yeah well he’s a liar,” you grumbled. “He wanted to go further but I was scared and he was being a dick about it so I dumped him.”

“Oh hun,” she said sympathetically.

“Yeah, so uh, yeah. There’s that,” you mumbled.

“Okay, don’t stress. This is only a first date, okay? And besides, Eddie is nice. He’s only had two girlfriends since middle school and neither of them have ever said a bad word about him. I’m sure he wouldn’t pressure you. He might be a total freak, but clearly you’re into that. It’ll be fine,” she reassured and you nodded along with her words.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you said as you took another deep breath.

“And if he’s anything but a perfect gentleman I’ll beat his ass,” she threatened and you laughed.

“You’re the best, thank you,” you said.

“Of course, hun! How long until he picks you up?”

You craned your neck to look at the clock in your kitchen.

“Shit. Fifteen minutes. I gotta go get dressed. Thank god my nail polish is already dry.”

“Okay have fun! Call me tomorrow to tell me how it went!”

“Will do! Bye!”

You slammed the phone into the receiver and raced to your room to change into the outfit you had picked out.

_______________

“You see that one there?,” he pointed up and to the left, ”That’s ursa major.”

You laid beside Eddie on a blanket next to lover’s lake and stared up at the stars.All the get to know you topics had already been covered and he made you laugh so much your cheeks hurt from smiling. His side was pressed against yours and you reveled in his warmth. The food he brought for the picnic was already consumed and the first date jitters were long gone. The moment was peaceful and the warmth of his presence warded off the chill of the night air.

“Oh really?”

He snorted, “No idea.”

You giggled and shoved his arm.

“Hey! It could be!”

“It could also be literally anything else,” you teased and he laughed with you.

“Those ones together look like a dragon,” you said as you pointed up.

His gaze followed your finger.

“Totally,” he agreed with you.

He placed his hand on your arm and slid it up so his hand was cupping yours and moved your finger to point it at a different constellation.

“Those ones look like a wizard,” he said as he smoothly brought your hand down and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Oh, it even has a hat!” you exclaimed and he chuckled with you.

“So, I haven’t asked yet, but, what alternate dimension did I fall into that you wanted to go out with me?” he asked and his tone was joking but there was a current of vulnerability you could feel.

“What?”

You looked over at him and studied his profile in the dark.

“I mean, you’re pretty much perfect-”

You cringed and he looked over at you.

“Don’t call me that, please,” you whispered.

“I- I’m so tired of being perfect. I feel like I don’t even know who I am because I’ve been so tied up in trying to be perfect for everyone else. And you, you’re amazing! You are completely yourself and do whatever you want to do and I admire you for that,” you said passionately.

“Wow. Well I can definitely show you the ropes on how to be imperfect and land far below everyone’s expectations.”

“Eddie-”

“No, listen, seriously, you are amazing and I just don’t understand-”

“Eddie! Stop- stop putting yourself down. I have had a crush on you for years, okay? And-and not to be creepy but my life is so boring and the most exciting part of my day is watching you be so-”

“Batshit insane?” he supplied when you couldn’t find the words.

You snorted, “Sure, if that’s how you want to phrase it. I just feel like I’ve wasted all of high school. Like, it’s supposed to suck but it’s also supposed to be fun, right?”

“I can show you how to have fun, sweetheart,” he murmured and you felt your face flush with heat as you flustered.

It was so dark you could barely see him, but throughout the conversation the two of you had edged closer to one another and with every breath you took, your chest brushed against his.

He placed a large hand on the side of your face before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

His plush lips were soft and gentle yet insistent on yours. He pulled back to give you a chance to breathe but only a beat later you surged forward to kiss him again.

His hand slipped from your cheek to the side of your neck and you gripped his shirt as he deepened the kiss.

You kissed him, desperately as a fire ignited inside you that you’d never felt before.

You slipped your hand into his hair and tangled it between your fingers and he groaned into your mouth as his tongue slipped against yours.

You rolled from your side to your back and yanked him with you so he was on top of you. Your chest heaved against his and his thigh slipped between yours.

The hand that wasn’t on the side of your neck was gripping your waist and you made a high pitched whimpering sound you’d never made before.

“Fuck, sweetheart you’re going to kill me,” he groaned as he pulled back.

You cut off your sound of disappointment from his abrupt end of the kiss as his lips moved to your jaw then down your neck.

Your hands moved everywhere they could reach, you gripped the muscles in his arms, his shoulders, down his back, before you slipped your hands under his shirt to feel his skin.

He sucked on your pulse point and you gasped and your hands on his back attempted to pull him impossibly closer.

And then, oh god, his teeth, his teeth were on your neck and you moaned, loud enough to probably echo across lover’s lake.

“Eddie,” you whined as he chuckled and repeated the action on the other side of your neck.

You tugged his face back up and eagerly pressed your lips against his once again.

He moaned your name into your mouth as his tongue tangled with yours.

He kissed you for what honestly could have been hours, you lost track of time as you drowned in him.

“Hey! You kids down there better get out of here!” a man shouted as a flashlight shined on the two of you.

You squealed as Eddie laughed boisterously and scrambled up onto his feet. He yanked you up with him, grabbed the blanket you had been laying on, and with his hand holding onto yours he raced towards his van.

You stumbled as you struggled to keep up with him and he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you upright as you both kept running.

You were giggling now with him as he led you to the passenger side door and helped you into your seat. He raced in front of the van, and jumped and clicked his heels together with a wink towards you, before he yanked the door open on the driver’s side and jumped in.

You were still giggling as he said, “You ready, sweetheart?”

He leaned in to kiss you again and you pushed his face away, “Eddie! Drive!”

He chuckled as he drove like a bat out of hell away from the lake and back towards town.

You turned the volume up as AC/DC played through the speakers and Eddie gaped at you as you headbanged along to the music.

“You’re my goddamn dream girl, I swear!” he yelled over the music and you laughed.

You sunk into your seat as he pulled into your driveway.

You looked over at him, hand over the bottom of your face as you suddenly felt bashful again.

He grinned at you as he turned the music down to a volume more conducive to talking.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you said.

“Even though we almost got busted by the cops?”

You shoved at his bicep as you laughed.

“That wasn’t really a cop, was it?”

“Nah it was probably just old Mr. Wilkerson, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

You rolled your eyes as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

“So my band has a gig tomorrow night, you wanna come?” he asked, voice hopeful.

“Um, at The Hideout, right?”

“Yeah! Normally we play on Tuesday nights but the band that plays tomorrow night canceled so they asked us to fill in. Isn’t that great?”

You smiled as his grin reached practically from ear to ear.

“Yeah, that’s awesome! I just- uh- I don’t have a fake ID,” you mumbled, embarrassed as you bit your lip.

“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. They won’t card you unless you try to order alcohol.”

You smiled bashfully at the term of endearment coming from his lips.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

He reached over and pulled you to him as he planted a firm kiss on your lips.

“Goodnight,” you said as you pulled back.

“Mmmhmm,” he hummed as he pulled you in again, and again, and again until you were giggling against his lips.

“Eddie, I have to go,” you whined.

“Just one more,” he said as he grinned and kissed you deeply.

He pulled back and you pulled him back in with a whispered, “Just one more.”

It was barely a kiss as you both couldn’t stop smiling, you kissed his cheek then quickly opened the door of the van and hopped out before you were tempted to stay with him forever.

“See you tomorrow, Eds,” you said with a grin.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart,” he called out as you shut the door.

He rolled his window down and wolf whistled at you as he watched you run up to your front door.

You turned and stuck your tongue out at him which caused him to chuckle deeply as he turned the music back up and drove away.

Everything taglist:

@spideysimpossiblegirl @dinandgone @ohpedromypedro @littlemisspascal @tombraider42017 @kirsteng42 @just-here-for-the-moment

Eddie taglist:

@bunnywritesmarvel @crazycookiecrumbles @kindnonny23-2

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female! reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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simp4konig · 23 days

Note

hello, I read your latest könig fic where reader own a bed and breakfast, it was an interesting concept and your writing is very good. However I did notice that you have the fic labeled as gender neutral at the top, but you seem to have subconsciously given the reader some fem characteristics. You had König call reader a "maid turned housewife" and then described how their customers slip extra money into their *purse*. You also generally kept implying them to be very petite, physically weak, and very small in build, which is usually how female reader inserts are described.

I'm not pointing this out to be rude, I just want to help make sure everyone tags and labels things correctly. It's pretty common for a fic to be labeled as "gender neutral" but then keeps describing the reader with feminine language/fem characteristics, which is sometimes a little disappointing that it doesn't *really* seem to be gender neutral. It can make some people a little uncomfortable if they weren't expecting it (mainly nonbinaries and male readers). I'm not discouraging you, your writing was actually good! I'm just saying it would be nice if you could be careful to avoid using feminine traits to describe gender neutral readers, or if not then just label the whole thing as Fem reader if you don't want to change it. that way readers that are not women will know to just scroll past if it wasn't written for them. (:

Hi !! Thabks for pointing it out 🙌 these are all very valid 😇

I appreciate your feedback! Really got me thinking ahaha 💞☺️

I have attempted to write comprehensively ! Hope i have articulated my points the way I intended, but lmk if you want more clarification ✌️

These, as a matter of fact, were intentional ^^"" :

It is widely assumed that König is 6'10, and he is evidently very muscular; therefore, any average person would be dwarfed by not just his height ans his weight, but also his build. That is the reason for the reader being depicted as "petite" — regardless of one's height and weight (the typical consensus).

The inspiration for this was Four In A Bed (A British competition show, of B&B hosts showcasing their accommodation and being rated by other hosts, all broadcast on TV — trust, it's really good! 😇🙏) , and from the episodes that *I* have watched, I am yet to see a muscular person, and/or a person whose height could be compared to König's.

People tended to have average height, some slightly taller, some slightly smaller, so I attempted to keep the height neither too tall (6'6ft+) nor too short (>5ft).

People tended not to be muscular nor overtly strong, given that most ordered produce and had only cooking, washing up, cleaning, and dusting to do. These are not activities where you exert yourself, so for reader to carry the rucksack upstairs — to König, likely weighing nothing, 50kgs+ at least — would have been a tasking endeavour.

Am I saying a B&B owner can be neither tall nor strong? No. But in order to cater to everyone while adding some humour into the fanfiction, I have made their body type ambiguous.

I doubted (at the time of writing) that König would know the male ver. of "housewife" and "maid", and in particular, gender-neutral terms of said nouns, as German is stressed not to have gender-neutral terms. I acknowledged at the time of writing that this was leaning towards a female reader, but it seemed to me that this is what König would say in this situation as a creepy joke. I mean, I guess this isn't really a good point, but if fandoms can call males "babygirl" and "housewife", even as a joke, is it not possible that said males would actually enjoy such positions as it brings them pride to contribute in domesticities?

Purses are not strictly for females. Despite these being widely attributed to females, men (and anyone who identifies as non binary/non conforming/etc) can carry them. I used "purse" in this context not due to me leaning to a female reader, but because I tend to associated these with carrying coins as opposed to stacks of bills, which personally painted a funny image in my mind :'); like, these twentys and fiftys protruding out of a purse designed to carry ~£400 at most. "Wallet" (to me) is where one keeps their credit/debit card[s], bills, coins, photographs, etc. A wallet (in my eyes) had too big of a capacity to contain bills in comparison to a purse, especially when taking into consideration that the B&B is in the "semi-countryside", implying that, while busy, it won't be packed with guests everyday (at least, that is the assumption I made when including this).

It is not customers, but the four soldiers that I hinted at (intended to be TF141, but it is a matter of motivation as to whether I ever decide to write their ver. ... 🥲). To state that it is customers could insinuate various things (especially about the female reader you claim) — they "slip money in their purse" as a token of gratitude for such homely service (regardless of their gender). A person can offer a traditional domestic experience without necessarily conforming to those attributes, and doing so in order to solely accommodate for their target demographic.

However, you will also notice that my post[s] is/are tagged with not only a gender-neutral reader, but a female and male. These do not influence my writing — I include these various tags in order to cater to everyone (and to have, in theory, more peope read it lolol 😝) While you could argue I have bias towards including female characteristics, I still proofread my work carefully and consider whether that word or that statement is gender-neutral? and if not, is there a reason?

However, as I type this now I realise it is impossible to cater to everybody. Yet, I will continue doing so, as some my mutuals are not all strictly female/male, but rather non conforming to gender norms, and it is important for me that they feel included too. But, with the that said, my fanfictions are not just written for non binary/non conforming individuals; they are written for EVERYONE! ✨🙌

Still, I cannot be expected to understand all of the nuances, eventhough I do my due diligence to try. If you, as a reader, feel uncomfortable reading any of my fanfictions, because they are not gender ambiguous enough, then you can always stop reading, and look for a more suitable one!! :'))

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flimsy-roost · 9 months

Text

the Barbie movie has a lot of people sharing barbie doll stories from their childhoods, and honestly they're all hilarious, please keep them coming forever.

I had a couple of barbies as a kid because they were gifted to me by relatives that didn't know me well, and I think I made a few attempts to play with them because that's what was expected of little girls™ at the time, but my heart wasn't really in it. the funniest memory I have was at one point giving them all gnarly haircuts to see if I would like them more (I didn't). I had a little kid's set of drawers with the days of the week on them that sat on the bathroom counter, and I believe to this day "Sunday" is full of doll hair.

instead, I went down a mini rabbit hole of tracking down the source of my barbie equivalents, with whom I would reenact sordid high school/family dramas.

in several smaller toy stores in the San Francisco Bay Area, there used to be multi-shelved white racks standing alone at aisle caps, filled with little plastic figurines of animals, dinosaurs, fantasy/fiction tropes and creatures, and what I later (ie today) learned were historical figures. getting one or two of these figures was my childhood bribe for being a Very Good Kid whenever I ran a full afternoon of errands with either of my parents. I believe that there were multiple companies that stocked their figurines in this display, but I could only track down two that I recognized: Plastoy, a French toy company which has since been acquired and is now barely operational as a separate entity, and Papo, also French, who appear to still be shipping to resellers.

no locations in California show up on their distribution list, so I assume they have either stopped supplying there (boo of true), or they had always been (and may continue to be) be supplied by middlemen importers. let's take a trip down memory lane to revisit some of my old "barbie" equivalents:

Caesar+horse: often the dad character in any scenario because he kind of looked like my own dad

Templar Knight: secondary boyfriend character, paired off with secondary girl/bff character, who I can't find but can best describe as a bikini barbarian

Two headed dragon: two-headed dragon!!!!!! sometimes wise mentor, sometimes cool big Dogge, but most often literal threat of Big Ol Two-Headed Dragon!!!!!! (I also was into dnd as a kid so I valued the ttrpg roles of a lot of the fantasy creatures)

Red Catapult: this ruled!!! bad boys and girls get shot down the stairs as punishment!!!

Princess Sophie: popular girl trope. sometimes "mained" by a friend who came over to play sometimes because she was also blonde.

Red dragon with flame: big dangerous doggy, somewhat akin to Dino in the Flinstones

Merlin the Magician: Merlin the magician, I knew who Merlin was thank you very much, I had Sword in the Stone on VHS!

Red Barbarossa: I forget, possibly a teacher?

I had a fuckton of these (and probably still do somewhere in my childhood bedroom/my parents' garage), but without being right in front of them, there were a few more significant ones that don't appear to be papo-produced and that I can't track down:

girl with a sword in battle stance, dark green pants (and possibly top, making it a medieval jumpsuit??), and a long flowing white wimple. she may have been marketed as Maid Marian. she was the one that I "mained"

aforementioned bikini barbarian, in wide-leg battle stance, brown hair, bikini-like leather-looking top, either leather or chainmail booty shorts, calf-length leather-looking boots, may have been holding a spear, sword, or flail. she was my best friend character.

hunched-over ogre, looked more annoyed/disappointed than angry/coming to Get You, may have had a long staff/walking stick. alternate dad/teacher character.

please lmk if you might know where the three mystery figures above came from, or if you also used to play with these and have tales to tell. also if anyone has an explanation for why there were at least two French toy manufacturers that made kids fantasy figurines that absolutely slapped.

#toy time #barbie #papo #plastoy #samble rambles #idk why I did this possibly just for my own records

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taechaos · 3 years

Text

My Time

pairing: yandere!fan!Jungkook x fem!actress!Reader

genre: retro, drama, thriller, oneshot

summary: Aspiring to be one of the top actresses of the 20th, you crave recognition for the blood, sweat and tears you put into your work that only your fan who's hopelessly devoted to you provides: Jeon Jungkook. You're always a supporting role and despite never leaving the shadows, he brings light to your presence through his letters.

It's only when you have the opportunity to be seen by all as the lead that he becomes the looming darkness that casts a shadow over you.

warnings: murder, stalking, violence

word count: 7.9k

a/n: this was inspired by the fan :') look out for the parallels between phantom of the opera and their wuv story 😎 ps if theres a mistake pls lmk

—————

Dear Sorelli,

Before I attempt to describe the beauty of your work, which is a very hard task to do considering I could write a whole novel about your breathtaking performance in the Phantom of the Opera, I must mention how cheated you must feel for not taking the role of Christine. It’s understandable of course, for you are the most talented actress anyone has ever come across, but I’m ashamed to admit I was relieved when I first heard of the casting.

It is one of my favorite plays, and you portrayed La Sorelli perfectly; your dance, your expressions and tonality… you were the main character in my eyes. You deserve to be in the spotlight always, and the theatre director didn’t do you justice by the very few scenes that you starred in, but is it wrong to say I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way?

Christine has too many kissing scenes, and I can’t imagine how I would feel if you were to play her; I predict I’d be shattered, and for that I’m grateful that you didn’t get the lead. And the outfits you wore… I tried to be respectful by looking away every time you bent or crouched in that tight ballerina costume, but I didn’t want to miss out on your performance. If that comes off too straightforward, pardon me, I did my very best to keep a clean mind.

I said Phantom of the Opera is one of my favorite plays, and it is, but it was a bore to watch when you weren’t on stage. The only reason I stayed until the very end was to see you again, bowing to the audience with the crew, and I made sure to make you feel appreciated by applauding the loudest. You were the star, just like every other play you’ve been in. I say this in every one of my letters, but I will always remind you that you’ve become the sole reason I love theatre despite being a fanatic for years. It is no coincidence that I saw you in the darkest times of my life, for now you are my light.

Love always,

Jeon Jungkook

“Your admirer’s punctual once more,” your secretary announces from her seat in the hallway, reading your second fan mail of the day by the landline to take care of any business relations strictly directed to you. “I’d guess other artists alike don’t have fans as loyal as this one.”

You pause in reading the daily news and look to the side, suppressing the quirk of the corners of your mouth to hide the secret of your anticipation and the satisfaction that comes with. The one person who openly gives you the recognition you deserve without delay and strengthens your ambition to be known.

One day, you’ll be receiving similar attention from all people around. You strive to be the actress that doesn’t audition and instead offered to be the lead for every single act to come.

“Do you want to read it?”

You merely shrug and lean into the headrest of the couch to appear uninterested, raking your eyes over the bold headline you’ve already read. “Is it worth a read?”

Jennie hums in contemplation, sounding almost uncomfortable. “It does stand out from other letters, but I can’t say if it’s for the better or worse.”

“Hand it to me.”

Heat creeps up to your cheeks by the end of the page, a physical reaction you can’t hide due to your embarrassing flattery. He is shameless in his approach, and you are not one to indulge in these activities so as to not waste the time you could spend searching for your next audition, but he diminishes your incompetence. Though his relief does make you scoff.

You know you deserved the role of Christine Daee, and you suspect Jungkook agrees by sympathizing with you in that aspect, but it irritates you that he was pleased with the results because of his one-sided attachment. A fan is expected to be more supportive than that, but you can excuse him in this one instance for sticking with you since the beginning of your career four years ago.

The growth of your fame has been a slow process, and you still maintain the privilege of being rarely recognized in public. You’ve been in countless plays, from being an understudy to a supporting role, with very few features in movies that your loyal fan still managed to comment on. It won’t be long before you land lead roles, and you’re absolutely certain of it.

You would never say it out loud, but you won’t let Jungkook’s support go to waste. He will be happy on your behalf at every milestone.

After a minute of utter silence, Jennie snickers from above you. “Hear that? He couldn’t keep his mind clean.”

You flinch at her interruption of your thoughts and defensively respond to her teasing, "It's a man, what were you expecting? Their brains aren't located in their heads." Lying comes with being a good actress, and you convincingly pretend that none of the words in ink affect you. It shouldn't. You don't have the time to bond with fans, although there aren't many to pick from, so you jab the letter at Jennie's chest. She'll write up a response for you.

"Get on with your replies and quit sneaking up on me like that!"

—————

Being a career-driven woman, you steer away from social interactions unless it benefits you in one way or another. You would do anything to reach the top of the chain, and that comes with its drawbacks, such as the reason why you've been lying down on your couch all day. No job means having nothing to do, and even your secretary is bored of solving crossword puzzles.

Neither of you converse.

The landline rings, stealing Jennie's attention while you continue watching movies with a stone cold face. You're bored too, so you perk up to listen in on the call.

"Hello? Yes, this is her secretary… Yes. Mhm… The Royal Hall?!" You jump at the sudden change in pitch. She quickly faces you with round eyes and parted lips without diverting her attention from the telephone. The mention of the Royal Hall makes you sit up and wear a similar expression to Jennie's. "Yes, she's available. She'll be there. Thank you, have a wonderful day."

"What is it?"

Jennie stands up, excitement written all over her. "The Royal Hall wants you to audition for the Phantom of the Opera! They contacted the actors from the previous play because they're speeding up the process, but most of them have already picked up another gig and you hit the jackpot!"

You pick up the remote to turn off the TV. "Am I hearing this correctly? They went out of their way to offer me to act in the Royal Hall?"

"Yes!" she gushes and bounces on her feet. "They want you in the biggest venue in the city! This is your time to shine."

The day you've been waiting for all your life, presented before your very eyes. You've had a passion for acting since your early childhood, watching plays, movies and shows with your family for as long as you can remember. Even as a young girl, you knew the Royal Hall was a special place—everything magical occurred there.

Now, you're going to be on that stage, and you don't know how to react.

"Jesus Christ," you breathe, feeling numb all over except for the pounding of your heart against your chest. You have your own set of standards, and you're certainly competitive, but performing in the Royal Hall was only something you could dream of. Was.

"I'm going to audition for Christine Daee."

—————

Jungkook observes his bedroom to spot any flaws in the scene he set. Scraps of you in costumes from flyers decorate the four walls, along with knick-knacks on his desks that he turned into your merchandise. The candles illuminate his surroundings, a romantic ambience taking over the environment and has him adjusting his collar sticking out from his knitted sweater. He's almost nervous, but has to remind himself he has nothing to be anxious about.

It's just you after all.

He sits down on his chair, formerly tucked into his work desk, and is quick to pour himself a glass of white wine. He doesn't touch his food at first, his dinner consisting of a plain triangular sandwich with chocolate on the side. He wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks and awkwardly chuckles before gulping.

"Cheers," he stammers before holding up his glass at a polaroid of you that he took himself plastered right across from him. You look so dazzling that even without your physical presence, you have him tongue tied.

He sips from his drink and his cheeks flush immediately. His alcohol tolerance is to be scoffed at, but he recovers from the initial effects quickly by eating on the side.

Without being able to control his patience, he finishes his food quickly before shoving the dishes to the side and pulling the typewriter in front of him. There's so much to tell you. The keyboard clicks as he pushes the buttons.

Dear Sorelli,

Have you heard? The Royal Hall is going to organize a play that you and I know all too well. Sure it's strange that it's happening back to back, so soon after the recent performance of the Phantom of the Opera, but apparently a famous theatre director was in the audience and he just loved the play so much that he's spreading it to a wider audience!

I'm hoping you'll be auditioning for La Sorelli, I'm desperate to see you play her again. You were so captivating, as always, and I'm impatient to see you. Tell me you'll think about it? Or maybe your secretary will pass on your thoughts to me…

I wish you would write to me so I could feel closer to you. Oh, when will I have the honor? Excuse me, I must sound so greedy. Knowing you read these letters should be enough for me. Even so, Miss Secretary, is it too much to ask for a picture of my dearest Sorelli? I'll take anything I can get…

How I want to talk to you, see you, and touch you, you'll never understand. I can't stop thinking about you, and I want to be in your thoughts also.

Love always,

Jeon Jungkook

While he’s neatly folding the letter, a knock resounds in his apartment. He doesn’t react to it at first, as if he can’t hear it at all, but the knocks turn into pounds which frustrates him. He grunts with pursed lips before stomping to the door, opening it wide enough to stick his head out.

“What do you want?”

His brother stands, dumbfounded, with his fist still in the air. “Hey.”

When Jungkook aims to shut the door, Taehyung holds out his palm to stop him. “Are you okay? Why are you acting like this again? We were getting along fine yesterday, and I thought-”

“I’m busy,” he growls. “I’m on a date. What were you thinking, showing up unannounced? You did me one favor and now you think we’re close?”

“You’re welcome?” he scoffs at his baby brother’s crudeness. “I guess you’re with that girl. Hope you have an amazing fucking date.”

Jungkook ignores the sarcastic farewell and slams the door shut before scuttering back to you, afraid he made you wait too long.

—————

Jennie, no matter how hard she thinks, can’t figure out how Jungkook would know of such a thing. She’s always known him as a fan for you, but perhaps he’s more than that. There is no way he would know of the upcoming event if he wasn’t a part of the organization, and if he is, how does he have the time to watch every single one of your plays? It’s baffling to say the least, and she interrupts your line-reading to bring her confusion to light.

“Jungkook knows about the Royal Hall.”

You clench your teeth at her intervention. “I don’t care,” you hiss and return to your practice. You hear her huff in offence at your rude response, but pay no mind to it.

Your secretary frowns at the sheet in her hand, not even bothering to ask if you want to reply to him instead as per his request out of fear. She ignores the twist in her gut at his final words and prepares a letter with a print of one of your headshots to send the fan without a response. There’s nothing she can say to him if not questions.

—————

The best aspect of having the opportunity to star in a familiar play in the Royal Hall is that it attracts more opportunities, opens more doors for you to further your career. The worst is the stress that comes with not being able to afford to lose this opportunity; I can not mess this up, you remind yourself.

Walking to the venue is magical on its own, knowing you’re going to be on that stage in a matter of minutes. You stand before the entrance of the building and take deep breaths, too deep into your thoughts to notice you’re the focal point beyond a pair of binoculars.

Nothing else matters at this moment, and you enter.

The first thing that you see is the stage, one you’ve seen many times before in all its glory under the lights. You’re only a silhouette in the path between the seats, and you look all around you where chairs occupy more than one floor. Per your estimation, five hundred people would only take up half of the stadium.

There are only a few people in the audience though; the staff, the judges, the critics - the ones who decide your fate and the other man on the spacious platform who you tune out the singing of. This is about your experience, and you run a hand over all the headrests while walking down the pathway. No one is worth your attention right now, only the feeling of the fabric and plastic is.

La Sorelli was your beginning, and Christine Daee is your ending for this mediocre life you live. You trust Jeon Jungkook will be with you every step of the way.

—————

Dear Christine,

I’ve always enjoyed your characters, but it feels so wrong to call you Christine out of all names you’ve owned. I hate it. Why can’t you stay as my Sorelli? Rosaline suits you too… Anything but Christine. I know how badly you want to be her, especially with how convenient it would be for you, but I can’t accept it. I don’t want you to kiss Raoul three times, not unless I’m him. And then there’d be Erik kissing your hands… Please don’t do this, I beg you.

You know I love you, why do you wish to hurt me like this? I understand you’re only doing this to pave the way for your success, but it being at my expense hurts me deeply. I’m the only one you need, I hope you realize that. I’ve always been there for you, to support you, to cherish you, to give you everything you want. If fame and fortune is what you desire, I will provide it for you.

This is so frustrating… Of course you’d want to be independent. My hands are tied, love. I can’t always be so understanding. I don’t blame you for any of my internal conflicts, but this warzone leaves no room for peace and for that I am sorry to you. I am so sorry.

To think the Phantom of the Opera used to be one of my favorites… I’ve always seen myself in Erik. Ironically enough, we both hide ourselves under a guise and yet would do anything for love. I’d do anything for you, my love. Anything for our love. I’ll always be here for you.

Yours truly,

Jeon Jungkook

Gripping his hair with his fists, Jungkook releases a deep breath of anguish. He’s realistic in his imagination where you are displeased with his writing. You deserve all the love and praise he can give, but there’s a line that you teasingly tiptoe on.

He watched your audition in a mix of admiral and betrayal. You were perfect and graceful in your portrayal, expressing every emotion with the passion that pumps through your veins. But he couldn’t stop himself from rushing out of the venue before you finished. You would get the role and another man would take advantage of the script and taint your lips.

“I can’t allow it,” he cries to you in a whisper with unshed tears, silently begging for your forgiveness through the print he received in the mail. He caresses your frown before pecking it over and over again. No other man would be this gentle with you. “You weren’t supposed to be Christine… It’s all my fault.”

—————

When you walked to the Royal Hall, your optimism was reasonable. Jungkook didn’t see any smiles, but he could see it in your eyes that you were hopeful. Today, he saw the same optimism all over your face. He didn’t account for a bad outcome when you slipped out of the doors.

His heart hurts upon seeing you put a hand over your mouth to suppress your sobs and close your eyes to stop your tears. He knows how prideful you are, and whatever you discovered must have left an immense impact on you if you’re crying in public. He expected to be the one to cry, but this is a much better scenario—you didn’t get the role, and he sighs in relief once the penny drops.

Much, much better.

—————

“A fucking understudy! Can you believe it?!”

You pace the living room with angry tears collecting at your lash line, and Jennie who sits dumbfounded on her work chair wouldn't know what to do if you start crying. She's an empath, but you've never been forthcoming enough for her to form an emotional bond with you and now she’s stuck in a position where she doesn’t know if she should comfort you or let you rant. Her hands meet on her lap as she nibbles on her nether lip.

“Christine’s understudy?”

“Who else?” you exasperate and fling your arms. Teardrops adorn your temples where you harshly wiped them. “I would’ve been okay with any other role, at least be seen, but now… I’m nothing! Not even a ballerina. All of my efforts, my potential...”

Jennie tunes you out as a thought comes to mind. She remembers Jungkook’s letter, disregarding the discomfort she felt while reading, and how much the man was against your aspiration. “Guess your fan got what he wanted,” she murmurs in the midst of your monologue.

This makes you pause with your clenched teeth on display. “That jealous fucker… It’s all his fault!”

“Well, he did know about the Royal-”

“Move,” you demand and motion for her to stand from the chair so you can access the typewriter. It screeches against the wooden table when you pull on it before sliding the margin. You search for a blank sheet until you notice the open letter.

You growl upon reading the thoughts of a supposed fan whose name you’ve grown so accustomed to seeing, and fume as you load the paper behind the cylinder. A response from you is what he’s always wanted, and you’ll finally provide. You ignore his sentences that confused you and stick to spilling your feelings.

Your secretary tries to remind you to be nice and recommends you to get some fresh air, but you don’t listen to her as the keyboard clicks under your punches.

—————

Jeon Jungkook,

Luckily for you, you won’t have to call me the name you despise so much. Unfortunately for me, I have landed in the worst place possible due to your manifestation. Currently, I have no name to go by other than my own. I choose to call myself a nobody, because that is the harsh truth.

In order to make my dreams come true, I have to do things other people don’t want me to do, things I don’t want myself to do. It’s business and I have to be professional; if it bothers you that I go against your wishes to do my job, you need a reality check. Since you’ve been motivating me to do well for as long as my career, I trust to tell you this for your comfort that I’m merely an understudy for Christine Daee and basically have no place in the play. You will not see me.

You’ve told me that you forced yourself to sit through the Phantom of the Opera just to see me, and you would’ve seen me longer had I not been a supporting role. This time, I don’t even have a role and I don’t know when I will. If you mean it when you say you’re here for me, I will react accordingly and vent to you.

I’m hurt and frustrated. I lost your support because of fictional affection. I'm wasting my time and energy on one of the biggest productions I’ve been a part of because by the end, I will have contributed nothing. Your lack of encouragement upsets me, but I know you will be pleased by the news.

Look forward to Park Jihyo’s performance.

—————

Jungkook was quick to rip apart the letter the moment he picked it up from the mailbox and entered his apartment. He doesn’t take his eyes off the letter as he unties his shoelaces before pausing in shock. The salutation is unfamiliar and doesn’t sound as formal as your secretary usually does. His gaze trails to the signature before he gasps and almost trips over himself.

You wrote to him for the first time.

“Oh God, oh God,” he slides down the entrance door and leans against it to take a moment and catch his breath. It’s your first interaction with him, and he can’t read the words his fingers graze in adoration. You touched this paper, the paper he’s now touching. He takes off his overcoat at the sudden heat creeping up his body.

With his mind in a haze, he begins reading it very slowly to digest every word you’ve written with your beautiful hands.

At first, he refused to simply understand that the letter didn’t have a second page. He needs to hear more from you; four paragraphs aren’t enough! Then he tried comforting your self-deprecating words by speaking to himself in his empty apartment. A ‘nobody’? Delusional!

And finally, he understood.

Your writing clearly entails that you’ve read his previous letters, which warms his heart every time he thinks about it before souring when he remembers that you also accused him of not supporting you. It took him a few hours to understand why you would say such a thing when you know how much he worships you.

He understood the significance of your last sentence; the name you left for him to read between the lines.

It’s 9 PM when he goes outside to fulfill your wishes after planning it thoroughly. He won’t write to you until he’s taken care of everything.

—————

Envy consumes your features the longer you scrutinize Jihyo from afar during rehearsals. You should be practising, but you’re currently dealing with the bitter realization of why she was chosen instead of you. The decision wasn’t only based on skills, but also appearance; she looks perfect for the role and you can’t literally embody that innocence that comes so naturally to her.

Her round face; large, doe eyes with her brows in a permanent soft curve; pink petal lips that are uneven when stretched into a smile; a small button nose to finish off the expression. Brown, shiny hair cascades down her shoulders, medium in length and yet so crucial to the element of innocence. The movement in her steps scream elegance and graciousness, unlike your fingers that dig into your palms hard enough to draw blood any second now.

What kind of injustice is this? Do you have to suffer for aspects you can’t change? You can’t blame yourself for the dark glint in your eyes that represents your inner disturbing thoughts, therefore unfair in your position of being a useless understudy. If only you could leave a permanent mark on her face so she understands what you’re forced to live with…

You remind yourself that it isn’t her fault. She didn’t mean to be so perfect. It doesn’t diminish the bloodlust you feel, but it comes with a sense of sympathy. She doesn’t deserve to be punished for her success; it is my failure after all. You’re not upset she got the role, you’re upset that you didn’t.

So when lunch break comes around, you approach her to come to terms with your feelings. “You were amazing out there, Jihyo. You’re one of the best actresses I’ve had the honor of watching! Keep up the good work.”

The blush on her cheeks boils your blood. Now she’s shy?

With that clarity, you begin your own rehearsal.

—————

Park Jihyo was a sweet, charitable woman and no one could dispute her sincerity. She wasn’t so much an extrovert, but she was constantly surrounded by co-workers deemed as friends because of her likeable personality. She would donate to homeless shelters, charities, participate in protests, and never drop that soft tone of hers unless she was forced to. She owed her fame, success and money to not only her talent, but to the people who supported her throughout her journey—she never forgot that, and instead made her gratitude known with her actions.

No one was capable of hating her with good reason, and therefore she was loved.

And she was never alone. Hell, even you went out to get a drink with her. Sure, you were bitter about your situation still, but there was nothing you could do about it. You had to watch her sign autographs and smile like it didn’t sting your pride and ego. But she apologized, you accepted, and she was an acquaintance. Nothing was wrong with her.

But one night, four days before the huge event, she was caught off guard. There was no one with her for once, and someone took the opportunity to approach her with purpose. There was a call of her name, an excited voice trying to get her attention, and like the considerate woman she was, she turned. She was flustered, found the man before her well groomed and attractive, but she smiled at him nonetheless and he brightly smiled back. She never found a fan so dashingly handsome.

But no one’s perfect—not even Jihyo with multiple, brutal slashes on her face from the wrath of the man’s polished blade. Precise cuts had adorned her face when she cried, lying down on the cement where a metro would arrive in minutes, and he wasn’t able to enjoy her unscripted reaction. He had to cut it short, much like her lifespan, by one last stab in her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she heard in her final seconds, the sound a mere buzz in her ears, “I wish I didn’t have to do this, but may you rest in peace with the knowledge that your death had great meaning as did your life. Good night.” And he dimmed her eyes, ending her struggle to keep them open, only to be blinded forever.

He wiped her face with his handkerchief as an act of courtesy and for his own benefit. People would find her soon enough, once the metro station would be filled.

These are the details you would have to keep a secret, because three days before the performance, you’re no longer the understudy. You’re told with melancholy that you have taken the lead, the rushed organization will not be delayed despite the upsetting news of Park Jihyo’s death. It was painful and savage, but for some reason, as you walk back to your apartment… It isn’t so bad.

Not one soul would you tell your wicked joy to, but it is difficult to fight against the tug of your lips. You shouldn’t be happy… but it isn’t as if you’re happy about the heartbreaking fate of your friend. No, you’re happy that you finally got the role you’ve always deserved.

You let your smile show.

—————

The public reaction is much more like Jennie’s: shaken and upset. You expected this when you walked inside, but not the terror written all over her face the moment she sees you. “You have to see this,” are her first words to you before everything takes a turn.

Dear Christine,

I am sure you’ve heard the news by now. I’ve been so impatient and eager to write to you, but I kept my promise of waiting until I’ve redeemed myself. The withdrawal symptoms have been anything but easy on me, but I can confidently say it was worth it because I’ve finally made you happy. You forgive me now, don’t you? I’m sure you are thrilled to have the spotlight on yourself. Alas, Jihyo has stolen it again for now… If no one��s congratulated you yet, let me do the honors, I’m so proud of how far you’ve come and congratulations!

If you’re worried about me, don’t be. It was so easy, though it took a while to get to this point, and it felt so satisfying to see someone so untouchable gone in the snap of a finger—my finger. I hope you don’t feel guilty… I’ll taint my innocence for you again and again just to see your smile. Have I mentioned I’d do anything for you? Everything I do, I do for you.

Will you let me know if you’re still upset with me? I want to speak with you again. I’ve reread your letter more times than I can count, I start my day and end my night with it. You don’t understand how over the moon I was when I saw your signature, because I can’t explain it with words. Maybe I can show you? Tell me, tell me, tell me.

Love you always,

Jeon Jungkook

The average person would react much like Jennie, and you know how she’s expecting you to react similarly, but you don’t care what she thinks when you say in monotone, “I’ll take care of it.”

“We need to take this to the police-”

“I said I’ll take care of it.”

This professional relationship between you is dented; Jennie is staring at you in bewilderment, and she looks like she’s about to scoff with rage. You do it for her, because she doesn’t understand how this could affect you. You don’t have the time for an investigation; isn’t she aware of how soon the play is, the one you’re the lead in? The attention is meant to be on you.

The show must go on. Afterwards, you can have a little chat with your fanboy.

You do your line-reading with your secretary. When it’s night and she’s asleep, you use the shredder to get rid of any evidence of Jungkook’s confession. That could damage your career if revealed to the world.

—————

After weeks of waiting, he’s had enough of it. He’s run out of patience, and another day of this torture pains him. Where is his response? Just a token of gratitude? You’re so silent. His hands clasped at his nape in bed don’t stop fidgeting. It’s unnerving, your lack of response, for once. Maybe he got used to it too early; you only sent your first letter after three years! I’m just too needy, he thinks, she’ll surely have something to say about the sacrifice. A single line would suffice: thank you. You must not have the time to even write that now…

Don’t you appreciate it? His internal turmoil is eating at his brain, translating to his shaking limbs. He’ll have to ask again. You just need a push; he can write to you again without seeming clingy, right? And if you don’t… Well, he can push in different ways. He already bought a ticket with his brother’s money: first row, right beneath you. He can congratulate you in person this time; that would mean a lot more to you.

His fingers itch to type, monologues swirling through his mind and he can no longer keep to himself. He committed the worst crime for you, and he at least deserves to be acknowledged. Leaving his warm bed, he settles on his chair and turns on the desk lamp. It’s approaching morning, but no rays of sun light up his room.

Dear Christine,

I’m sure you’re busy with practice, promotions and public statements right now. I hope you’re not overworking yourself, and find time to rest. I don’t want to be a bother with my constant rambling, you already have so much on your plate, but you must understand my quest for any sort of interaction. I am aware that my actions mustn’t go unpunished, but I did it for you, and I wasn’t expecting the punishment from you. I can rot confined, but not in solitude. Don’t isolate me from yourself.

You were wrong about me not seeing you on stage. That is the only thing that brings me joy, much like the smile you had after receiving the news of your current position. I looked like a lunatic with how euphoric I appeared, skipping around with the biggest grin. Just remember to put a thumb over Seokjin’s lips. Do not forget, Christine. I’m your Raoul. It is only I you can kiss. I can’t wait to do so… You have the prettiest lips I’ve ever seen.

Kiss me when you see me.

Love you forever,

Jeon Jungkook

—————

Christine,

I’m livid. It’s the evening before I see you, and I wish you the luck that I know you don’t need. Your hard work will pay off. Will mine? I’m suffering in this state because I feel so ignored. But I know you’re not doing it on purpose, and so I’m looking forward to tomorrow. I really can’t wait.

Who am I kidding? I saw you today. You looked so happy. I didn’t want to watch the rehearsals because that would be unfair to you, but I just had to see what was keeping you so busy. You were practising but I know you get home at seven, and you didn’t look so exhausted. You could have made time for me. You’re ignoring me. Did your use of me perish? I don’t matter anymore? What will happen after tomorrow?

I just want you to reassure me. Can you do that for me?

I love you,

Jeon Jungkook

—————

Murmurs of the crowd in the Royal Hall's travel behind the curtains, all the way backstage and turn muffled in the dressing rooms where you do the final touch-ups of your makeup. Nerves are at an all time high within everyone who isn't sitting in the lined up rows of seats by the platform and beyond. Everyone has their own concerns regarding their performance, but all the pressure is on you. As a trained actress, you do well in keeping it to yourself.

You know what they’re all thinking: Can she live up to what could’ve been if Park Jihyo was still alive? The stage is all yours, and you thrive on it; her death did you more good than harm. This is quite literally your time to shine. You won’t disappoint; not after practising day and night without break, not even bothering to wash off the blood in your hands with the play looming over your head.

And the show begins when you’re ushered on stage, entering on cue after the foreword.

Your first scene begins wordlessly, crying on command in your dressing room, where you prepare to get the role of Marguerite in competition with Carlotta. Your actions are melancholic, even the way you kneel down to pray before the mirror, and you’re truly Christine Daee in this moment; you don’t radiate the confidence you feel so deeply in your core.

It only shows when you sing, despite the moisture in your cheeks where you had harshly wiped your tears according to the stage direction. Your lines are spoken beautifully, though you’re only speaking to yourself. It’s only when you go silent that your thoughts come to comfort you: they’re all blown away.

—————

You’ve seen Kim Namjoon with and without the mask of the phantom. You’ve heard his voice, spoken to him, rehearsed with him. Christine gets the lead role when the phantom sabotages a rehearsal, with help of who she—you believe to be “Angel of Music”. You meet your childhood friend, Raoul, and next thing you know, a jealous phantom kidnaps you. The phantom of the opera isn’t Kim Namjoon, and you don’t know who it is.

Someone stole Namjoon’s role. The crew must have noticed as well by now, right? But who is this?

Your confusion is merely internal, because the show is still going. Everything is going as it’s meant to be, you’re following the script and direction, but it shouldn’t disturb you so realistically when he says:

“I love you, Christine… I have brought you here a prisoner… for love!”

It’s too… genuine. The secret marriage Erik, the phantom, tries to force you into; his chilling obsession with you; the murder that follows in your honor. Jungkook sees Erik in himself, you remember with a shiver when you're backstage. You can’t make this about him, not when you’re going off on assumptions, not during your play. You have to leave the questions for later.

Right now… you can only appreciate his voice. He sings beautifully despite his crude actions, killing two men in front of you and still having the audacity to propose to you and make you choose between him and Raoul. You’re meant to be hypnotized by his music, but it’s genuine—you can’t pretend. That’s your mistake.

You’re not meant to be hypnotized when you rip off the mask on his face, admiring his beauty when you’re supposed to be terrified by his flaws. He should be ugly, not gorgeous. You messed up.

But so does he. He smiles at you, a lovesick glint in his eyes that twinkle under the stage lights, which is not in the script. This is a horrifying moment for Christine, but a romantic one for you. He can’t be Jeon Jungkook… but you almost want him to be. He’s Erik.

And you can’t love a murderer, so your face remembers to twist in horror.

It must be so fake that Jungkook’s smile doesn’t falter.

—————

Bidding farewell to the crew, cast, and audience doesn’t distract you from your thoughts. It’s your mistake during the play that you should be pondering on, but it is only the identity of Erik that you’re thinking of. No one’s around any longer, but you don’t notice the silence in the whole theatre while you stare at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room. Such a big production… but you’re not even worried about it. You sigh at yourself.

Tuning back to reality, your eyes trail to the reflection of a man behind you. You gasp in fright before turning around in your stool. How long has he been standing there?

He shudders when you lock eyes, still in his phantom costume without the mask as he stands before you in all his glory. “Christine…” he breathes in awe.

“Who— who are you?”

“I’m your Raoul,” he whispers affectionately. “But I couldn’t…”

You swallow hard, alarmed by the confirmation. “J-Jungkook?”

You don’t expect the reaction you receive: he releases a shaky breath with a broken moan, eyes screwing shut and head tilting back. It’s an orgasmic feeling for him to finally hear you say his name when he’s moaned yours countless nights throughout the years.

“You’re not allowed to be here,” you try to steady your voice. Your hand clutches the armrest until your knuckles turn white; you’re panicked but you can’t show it. He reacts by staring at you adoringly. You stand on your wobbling legs and try to aim for the exit. He blocks it by stepping in your direction with one stride. You attempt to dodge him, but he repeats the action. “Jungkook, I-I need to go home.”

“Don’t leave,” he pleads and hovers a hand over your shoulder. You stare at it wide-eyed. “You haven’t said anything to me in so long. Please talk to me.”

“Did you do something to Namjoon?”

He flinches as if you burned him with your fierce gaze, taken aback by your blunt accusation. “H-He has an injury.”

“From?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. The panic in his expression is short-lived until he sighs in relief. “No one saw me, my love, don’t worry. I locked him in the storage room-”

“What did you do?”

“His wrist— I-”

“Oh, Jungkook,” you gasp quietly and back away from him. “How— why…”

“It’s just a fracture! He’ll heal in just a couple of days,” he begs and approaches you with slow steps. You don’t stop backing away and shake your head in denial—disbelief, rather. The wall is your end, but he doesn’t close in on you.

As the phantom once said, “For he who worships you as I do, also respects.”

“Don’t be afraid, please…”

“I’m scared,” you admit in a whisper. Your eyes are downcast and your breaths are shallow. He is incredibly soft-spoken and appears angelic, yet so intimidating within context. The gloss in his fluffy hair hides the darkness of his mind. You can’t fall for it, and in a moment of vulnerability, you dash.

The only other exit leads backstage, and then the platform. You don’t care; your feet take the initiative and attempt to outrun the tall man who chases after you.

“Help!” you scream seconds before you’re lifted off your feet and silenced with a hand on your mouth. He’s gripping your waist as he carries you to the red seats.

Once he has you seated, he’s quick to question your motive, “What’s wrong?! I-I didn’t do anything to you, I would never, what are you so scared of?!”

“You’re a murderer!”

He stammers with round eyes. “I-I— you know I did it for you! I granted your wish, and this is how you repay me?”

“What wish?” you hiss angrily. “I never wished for such a thing! I only wished for your support, and what did you do? You killed an innocent woman!”

“N-No, I did not,” he weakly denies with a shake of his head, “you did.” You made me.

Your lips fall into a hard line as you gawk up at him. “How… how do you know?”

It’s his turn to pause. That wasn’t the answer he expected, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Y-You know about Jennie?”

His curious eyes don’t waver from your fearful ones. The fear dims when you defend yourself, and instead becomes dark, “I had to! She was constantly nagging about taking your letters to the police, and I couldn’t have her running her mouth-”

“You were protecting me?” he becomes awestruck in realization.

You scoff and rain on his parade, “I was protecting myself. They would think I was an accomplice.”

“I would’ve kept you out of it.”

“Well, I didn’t know that, did I?” you snap with a seethe.

“But you did,” he counters, still in utter amazement as he crouches to lean into you with his hands on your knees, “I always conveyed my love for you in my letters; you knew I’d put you before myself any day when I killed Park Jihyo.”

You watch him in astonishment. You’re known for having a clear mind where you always know what you want and what you need to do to achieve it; no one could tell you otherwise and steer you away from your purpose. When you did what you had to do for your own benefit, you had no thoughts of Jungkook at that moment.

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

You nod in a daze, “I was… subconsciously protecting you…” Is he so convincing that he made you believe you were looking out for him, or is it the truth you didn’t want to hear?

“You and I, we’ve sworn loyalty to each other,” he beams and grips your hands enthusiastically, “we share a secret that brings us together, if not our love.”

“You… really love me?” you hesitate.

He smiles warmly and loosens his tight grip without letting go. “Only with all of my being. You’ve seen me... now kiss me.”

—————

“I don’t know who did it,” Taehyung tells the detective in exasperation, “but it wasn’t Jungkook. He was with the audience when Namjoon was assaulted, and I asked him to play the phantom when I couldn’t find the damn actor.”

“Why specifically Jungkook?” the detective drawls suspiciously.

“Because he knows the play by heart, it’s literally his favorite. I only trusted him to take the part.”

Taehyung can only hope the man can’t tell he’s lying through his teeth. He wouldn’t give his brother the role when he begged for it; it’s a professional organization for God’s sake, not matchmaking! But he should’ve known Jungkook stopped at nothing, yet he can’t bring himself to give him in.

If he slams the door shut in my face again…

—————

The paper shredder clicks as you get rid of Jungkook’s recent letters while he watches you from his spot on the couch. “I almost want to ruin your life for this,” you pout and lean his palms on the desk after turning to him.

He chuckles, eyes turning into crescents at your whines ever since you woke up—not counting the previous days. “I’m sorry baby, you know I didn’t do it on purpose. I only got on that stage for you.”

“Yeah, and now everyone’s gushing about you,” you huff and cross your arms, “while they all criticize me for one slip-up— the one you also made!”

The only good thing to come out of that play was meeting Jungkook, because the rest is a complete disaster. No one’s playing nice with you, but at least you’re getting plenty of attention, albeit not so positive. You even got a business call for an upcoming series this morning! But Jungkook, the bastard, had to silence his phone from the amount of people trying to steal him for plays, movies, and even for a damn record label.

“So unfair,” you sigh just as he sits up to give you a light hug. He sways with his head laying on yours, and you lean against his chest without hugging him back.

“I’ll turn down everyone,” he reassures quietly with dimmed eyes, “I can’t have my baby being upset with me.”

A smile grows on your face. “Thank you.”

“But… I could also do the opposite and recommend you to every director, providing the fame and fortune I promised you,” he suggests with a lopsided grin that you can’t see.

“I think I love you.”

Jungkook has always been dedicated to you, doing things you didn’t know you wanted until he did it for you, landing you your role, getting rid of Jennie’s decaying corpse from your closet, and allowing you to depend on him without making you forfeit your independence. He’s just so perfect for you… It has you wondering if Christine made the wrong decision by choosing Raoul instead of Erik.

It doesn’t matter however, because now you get to keep Erik all to yourself.

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts fic #jk fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fic #thekpopnetwork #networkbangtan #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #yandere x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jjk smut

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autisticgayngel · 3 years

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Canonverse Castiel-centric/pining/loving Cas fics

some of these are Dean's POV and a lot are alternating POV, but all of them really delve into Cas's emotions and his love for Dean. All canonverse and all happy endings. Categorised by post-confession, pre-s15 curtain fic and other canon-era. Descending word count within each category. If anyone has any recs for things I should add lmk!

Post-Confession Fics

things happen (they do, they do, and they do) by sobsicles 28k rating E

Everyone has recced this, and for good reason, it's stunning. Cas gets back from the empty and Dean sort of lets him down gently and is very worried about breaking his heart. Despite this Cas is finally able to express to Dean how much he loves him and takes full advantage of this. He's earnest and sweet and so intense about it, but also incredibly hurt about the lack of reciprocation, though he tries to hide it. He does get the love he deserves in the end and it's so good!

closer (isn't close enough) by fleeceframe 18k rating E

Again, Dean's POV, but very much focused on how much Cas loves him. Has the gorgeous Cas line: “When you are hungry, you eat. When you are tired, you rest. When you are dirty, you bathe. But what are you supposed to do with love?”

My unintended by DeanaWinchester, Jeanne_de_Valois 10k rating E

Really good Cas POV, he’s obsessive and insecure but also deeply loving.

my heart a compass by lagaudiere 10k rating T

The empty torments Cas with visions of Dean and of the family he longs to have with Dean. Dean saves him.

I said show me something by ilovehowyouletmefall 7k rating E

Sparked by the debate about whether or not Dean thinks Cas can feel. Cas is hurt by Dean saying he thought he couldn't feel and vulcan mind melds to show him exactly how he feels about him. It's a really interesting exploration of both of their feelings and fears.

Gift by thisisapaige 2k rating G

Very sweet little fic of them trying to work things out once Cas returns from the empty.

Pre-s15 Curtain Fics

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden 95k rating E

Dean tries to retire with his family but finds himself alone as Sam and Jack take a road trip and Cas goes hunting in order to prove he's still useful as a human and to avoid thinking about his feelings for Dean. Really agonising and harrowing at the start as they both feel so rejected and miserable. Cas gets into situations where monsters use his feelings for Dean to attack him. Eventually, they're able to tentatively work out their feelings and settle down together and it's very sweet.

Morning Glory by edgarallanrose 26k rating E

Dean and Cas retire together. Cas becomes a beekeeper and Dean starts to use the honey he makes to bake goods, which they sell at the farmer's market. Cas is very much in love with Dean but it takes Dean a bit longer to work things out.

Other Canon-era

A Winter's Tale by NorthernSparrow 64k rating T

This one hurts a lot, so fair warning for that. Cas falls ill while human and homeless and is hospitalised. Dean finds the journal Cas kept as he struggled to survive in this time. Pre-Destiel but Cas does write a lot about his feelings for Dean. Sam and Dean shower Cas with love and kindess as he recovers. Also a destiel epilogue that is very sweet and fluffy.

In the Shadow of your Wings by Enochian Things (Salr323) 57k rating E

Cas confesses his love to Dean post s11 finale but the timing is terrible and Dean is very repressed about it all and breaks Cas's heart. Cas gets an Italian man of letters boyfriend in an attempt to get over it and Dean is insanely jealous (which Cas is oblivious to) but they all have to work together to try to save Sam from the BMOL. Dean eventually gets his shit together and treats Cas the way Cas has learnt to understand he deserves.

That Black Dog Ache by SaltyWords (agent4hire22) 28k rating E

This is very much Dean's POV but I'm putting it here anyway because it has a really intense love confession from Cas, which I'll include an excerpt of that drives me insane:

'“I listen to your music, and I close my eyes. I try to imagine I’m in the Impala, hunting with you. And, sometimes,” his throat jumped, “I lay on your bed. I think about what it would be like if I got to have a place on it beside you... If you ever let me get close enough.”'

Kelp!I Need Somebody by andimeantittosting (Saylee) 27k rating E

A really sweet fic in which Sam, Dean and Cas go to investigate a case on Jesse and Cesar's ranch. Switching POV with really good mutual pining as they tentatively begin to realise the other feels the same.

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous 26k rating E

Set early s4, Cas has to possess Dean temporarily. While doing this, he has to work to hide his feelings from Dean. Cas is already obsessed with Dean and in love with him but is embarrassed by it and struggles to keep Dean from seeing all of this, especially when Dean wants to have sex with someone while Cas is possessing him.

Après by imogenbynight 24k rating E

Set after the angels fall in s8. Cas falls to earth in Paris and realises he's in love with Dean. Dean comes to get him and they find love together in Paris.

desiderium, lost by atlasian 20k rating T

Castiel confesses his love for Dean and Dean tells him to move on. Cas tries, fairly unsuccessfully, before Dean gets it together.

No Other Worthy Quest by MajorEnglishEsquire 15k rating E

Cas just loves Dean very much.

'“For fuck's sake,” his skin is heating. Cas can feel it. “Stop saying lovey-dovey shit.”

“I know,” Cas rolls his eyes. “It’s so mortifying for you when I want to tell you I love you. I’m using all my self-restraint, I promise not to embarrass you.”'

The Arrow by jscribbles 12k rating T

Valentine's day and Cas has been hit by a Cupid's arrow and is literally sick with love for Dean.

and all this devotion by dothraki_shieldmaiden 10k rating M

Dean gets hurt on a hunt and Cas takes care of him in a cabin. Very sweet, delightful Cas POV of him being very much in love.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits 10k rating E

Cas struggles to work out why Dean deems some things meaningful and some things worthless, and where he fits into this apparent dichotomy. Really gorgeous and agonising Cas POV that deals with their constant issue of Dean just wanting Cas to stay and Cas wanting Dean to want him to stay but they're both too afraid to express it.

Breathe by turningthepages 9k rating G

Dean and Cas platonically sleep together to help with Dean's sleep. Cas both likes the situation and longs for it to mean more.

First Date by aeli_kindara 9k rating T

Dean asks Cas on a date and they're both trying very hard to make it all work. The sequel is stunning too.

'Dean says, “We should do that. Go on a date.”

Something in Castiel’s chest fuzzes, like static on a TV, and stops.'

weights on my ankles by dothraki_shieldmaiden 9k rating M

After 15x3 The Rupture, Cas goes back to Rexford. While there, he thinks about how Dean hurt him all those years ago and how he hurt him more recently. Partly a 9x6 Heaven Can Wait fanfic-gap fic.

Let it Linger by OmniscientOranges 8k rating M

Cas starts sleeping with men out of jealousy when watching Dean pick up women at bars. The way the fic describes how in love he is and how hopeless he feels about it is both agonising and very sweet.

He Thought He Was Reckless by MajorEnglishEsquire 8k rating M

Cas plays up injuries so that Dean will coddle him. Self-woobification from the Angel of the Lord and it's so sweet!

Something to Protect by Sass_Master 6k rating G

Cas tries to work out how to make Dean feel less unsafe so that he no longer has to jolt awake. Sweet, tentative intimacy and Cas enjoying it so much.

lonely hearts. by outpastthemoat 5k rating G

Deals with Cas accompanying Sam and Dean on hunts and feeling incredibly lonely and longing to be with Dean. He finds solace in romance novels.

Some People Would Call This Romantic by almaasi 5k rating G

Human Cas goes to the beach and finds it rather overwhelming. Taking a romantic walk with Dean along the beach is also overwhelming.

The Tea is Decaf by mnwood 4k rating T

Really sweet! Cas and Eileen talk and gossip about Sam and Dean in the bunker at night over tea.

A Place to Rest by Inessencedivided 3k rating G

Dean and Cas talk through things after the Stuck in the Middle with You love confession. Cas cries some more.

White Noise by domesticadventures 2k rating G

Cas struggles with feelings of worthlessness in the aftermath of Lucifer's possession.

Receipts by surlybobbies 1k rating G

Cas writes little notes about how much he loves Dean on receipts from meals they share together. Dean finds them.

#fic rec #destiel fic #fanfic #spn #destiel #pining cas #fic

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Under the Floorboards

(Technoblade x Reader) link to Pt. II :)

Picking up a bundle of wood you let out a soft breath, you watched as it escaped out your lips in front of you in a small cloud. Trudging through the snow you made your way back to your house, well it wasn’t really your house. A few months ago you ran into Technoblade while he was searching for a new home far away from this place called L’manburg; he told you he was in retirement and was surprised to find another person all the way out here. As a wandering adventurer, you eventually won him over with your charm, wit, and humor.

That was a joke of course.

You both started a mutual trade agreement, on your way back from the adventures you’d always take a pit stop at his place so he could see if you had anything worth trading. It started slow, he realized you would come back very late at night, and very weary. He offered you to stay the night once, then once turned into twice and before you knew it you began to stay at his place after every late-night adventure. As you spent more time together he helped you become a better fighter, and farmer and you helped him learn social skills and how to cook food that wasn’t steak.

He never told you about his time in the country of L’manburg or why he was in retirement in the first place but you didn’t mind. Everyone has their secrets and even if both of you were considered friends at this point you never pried. Not even when you’d catch him mumbling to himself about chat, or the bloodthirsty look in his eyes after he killed an animal. You kept your mouth shut out of respect, you could tell he appreciated the gesture.

You earned yourself a friendship emerald after he introduced you to his oldest friend Philza, the man treated you like you were his family. It made you feel wanted and welcome, Techno had a little smile on his face the entire interaction as the both of you bonded. In his mind he was ecstatic his two favorite people were getting along. Techno walked Philza out of the house and returned holding an emerald out to you, you knew how valuable these emerald were to him. You were in such shock and awe you almost started crying which caused him to panic.

“I’ll treasure it with my life.” You told him kissing said emerald gently, blush spread across his pale face to his pointed ears.

“I’m glad.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “Chat- chat stop I’m not simp.” You heard him whisper hiss softly but you ignored it, choosing to smile at him instead. He noticed and his blush only deepened. You took his hand, it was so small intertwined in his own, and squeezed it softly.

Eventually, the both of you grew closer than just friends which understandably scared the half pigman to death. You caught him mumbling to himself more frequently, especially when you both were out fighting monsters and gaining experience.

Things like: “I’m not a simp” and “Calm down I’m gonna protect her” as well as “I can’t just say that!” Were very frequent mumblings of his, your brow furrowed and after fighting a baby zombie you turned towards him,

“Hey Technoblade you doing okay?”

“Yes!” He sputtered out reassuring you that he was just fine by saving you from a Skeleton.

You two watched the sunset that same day from on top of a snowy mountain and he confessed to you. The confession was a bit rough around the edges but then again so was he, so to you, it was perfect. You took his hands to get him to stop rambling and kissed his knuckles. He made an embarrassed sound and looked away from you, you cooed teasingly at him and accepted. From then on you both were attached at the hip, well as attached as he’d let you be there was still that level of awkwardness that came with any new relationships but it was wonderful. You’d both spent hours by the fireside as he read to you, you’d help him care for Carl and get enchanted books all the while you were in awe of this magnificent and mysterious man before you.

Shaking your head smiling to yourself you trudged back to his house, the emerald around your neck bounced in tandem with your steps. Technoblade never liked leaving you alone, you reminded him constantly that you had a life before he was in it but he still seemed to be on edge. You figured it had something to do with his past so you did your best to reassure him that you’d be safe when he was away; Techo seemed to appreciate your efforts at least. Whenever he got back from what you assumed was visiting Phil (after all, Carl was gone), you were going to run him a bath and braid his hair the way he liked. Maybe you’d make him a nice dinner then you’d both fall asleep together while reading. It’d earn you some soft kisses and snuggles later, you giggled to yourself as you put away the wood. If you told anyone else this giant of a man, who you’ve seen wipe out hordes of monsters like it was nothing, loves to be cuddled at night they’d call you insane.

You wandered down into the basement to feed his cow but the sound of a blocks-breaking startled you out of your daydream. You whipped around pulling out your sword in the way Technoblade showed you and came face to face with a blonde child peeking out from the floorboards.

“What the FUCK?!” You both shrieked at one another, he moved to try and scramble back down the hole. You followed him down his ladder, you weren’t going to let this child get away with living under your boyfriends’ house so easily. You backed him into a corner and took note of his beat-up appearance and his attempts to look brave as he held up his hands. Sweat gathered on his brow but you didn’t let your guard down, before you could open your mouth to question him he began to talk so fast and loud you could barely keep up.

“OI, OI, OI, OI! LADY, LADY, LADY, CALM DOWNNNN CALM DOWN! SEE, SEE WE’RE BOTH IN TROUBLE CAUSE WE’RE BOTH STEALING- BORROWING FROM THE BLADE! THE BLADE KNOWS ME! I AM HIS LITTLE BROTHER, TOMMY, I AM SURE YOU’VE HEARD OF ME! THEREFOR I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING WRONG. YOU-YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, ARE A STRANGER! YOU KNOW HE’S A BLOOD GOD RIGHT? HE’LL ABSOLUTELY KILL YOU, BUT BUT! IF WE KEEP THIS BETWEEN US I WON’T HAVE TO TELL HIM ANYTHING AT ALL FAIR? SEEMS FAIR TO ME-”

You reached your hand out to cover his mouth, your eyes narrowed into slits, “Start again. Softer and slower. Techno never told me he had a brother.” You watched the eyes of the blonde widen in surprise, assumingly at the notion that you already knew Technoblade. Slowly you removed your hand from his mouth but didn’t lower your guard. He cleared his throat, swallowing tentatively.

“I’m Tommy. We’re not related by blood- who ARE you?” he pressed still completely baffled at the appearance of a GIRL who knew Technoblade. Before you could even respond to him he let out another baffled cry. “DOES HE SIMP FOR YOU!?” He shrieked pointing at you as he waved his finger around. “THERE’S NO WAY- HE DOES HOLY SHIT!” Tommy laughed as you blinked rapidly, how was he able to read all that without you even saying anything? You were trying to process who this kid was while also being stuck on the blood god thing. You felt Tommy’s arm around your shoulders suddenly as he pulled you close. “Well, Miss Blade now that we know who you are maybe we can strike a deal-“

“Absolutely Not.”

“HEY! Come on now.” Tommy whined loudly, “I need your help here! Look I’m sure you know why he’s in hiding and all...and well...I might’ve pissed the same people off and-”

“Actually no. I didn’t know that…” You spoke softly deflating a little, “He’s in hiding? From who exactly.”

A look of shock came across Tommy’s face, “You mean...you don’t know? Like about L’manburg and his betrayal.”

“Does it sound like I know? Look Tommy you seem like a nice kid really, but you need to leave-”

“Nonononnonononono. Look it’s fine, I’ve been living here for weeks now-”

“WEEKS?” You snarled a pink flush coming to your cheeks, you grabbed the boy’s arm and began to drag him up the ladders in Techno’s house. Hee was going to kill you like actually this time. You were about to throw open the door but it swung open in front of you. Techno was standing there completely bruised and bloody and you immediately dropped Tommy in favor of him.

“Oh my god Techno what happened?” You breathed out a worried breath he was about to respond before he noticed Tommy. He grabbed you by the arm and pushed you behind him guarding you with his body.

“Tommy.” He snarled as the boy once again shrieked and booked it back down the ladder Techno turned towards you, “Stay here.” Technoblade commanded you softly the look in his eyes could only be described as desperate. “Don’t leave. Please.”

“I won’t…” You murmured watching him disappear after the British boy, you hoped he was going to explain everything to you after he dealt with the raccoon. You could hear them shouting from down below you, you couldn’t push it off any longer you needed to get answers from him.

~~~~~~

Part II maybe? Lmk if there’s an interest! Cause I love this man with my whole heart! Thanks so much for reading 🥺✨ link to Pt. II :)

#technoblade #technoblade x reader #mcyt #fanfic #fanfiction #minecraft fanfiction #dream smp #dreamsmp x reader #blood for the blood god #technoblade drabble #technoblade imagine #technoblade imagines #imagine #imagines #writing #fandom #techno #techno x reader #techno x you

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wagner-fell · 3 years

Text

Spiders Are Ugly And Other Lies Capitalism Has Told Us (part one)

“Dad,” Astrid called out, shutting the coral coloured front door behind her. “Are you home?”

She dumped her cream tote bag spray painted with the words ‘Washing Machine Heart’ in big, rainbow letters onto one of the stools facing the granite countertop. The rest of the Merry Hoes followed suit. It was weird seeing a person as chaotic as Astrid in such a calm environment.

They were all spending the summer in LA with Astrid and her Dad. It had taken a while for Kevin to convince his family it was a good idea. Especially because he and Blessica had finally put years of pinning behind them. Making out on Kit’s bed at Mina’s third birthday party certainly wasn’t the way they had envisioned it but as the longing was over with, they were happy.

The Chu’s didn’t love the idea of their son living in a different country for three months with his girlfriend but we’re on board once Kevin assured them there was no possible way Blessica could get pregnant.

Kit wasn’t officially sleeping at the Yang’s but at the Institute with his boyfriend. Julian wasn’t so thrilled about the situation but Emma was. She was positively ecstatic about having a training partner as skilled as Kit was, courtesy of Jem and Tessa. Though staying a thirty minute drive away (on the wrong side of the road, Mari noted) wouldn’t keep Kit away for long. Even now he was with them instead of having his own reunion make out session.

Speaking of making out…

Mari rested their chin on the top of Astrid’s head and wrapped their arms around her middle. “Why don’t you show us your room while we wait for your dad to get home.”

It was kinda perfect, Mari often remarked, that she realized her feelings for their best friend weren’t so platonic as she previously led herself to believe at the same time they and Kit realized they were better off as just platonic.

Astrid hit her hand playfully. “That’s not fair!” she whined! ”How dare you take advantage of my constant hornyness when my God-fearing Presbyterian father could be in the next room? Shame! Shame on you, shame on your family, shame on your cow.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘dishonor’”, said Kit, who didn’t even look up from his phone when he addressed her, “but go off I guess.”

Astrid looked like she was questioning all her life choices up to this point. “A white boy knows Mulan better than me.” She shook her head in disgust. Mari could feel the loose hairs of her girlfriend’s ponytail ticking her exposed collar bone. “Mulan.”

Mari laughed before softly brushing their lips against Astrid mop of bleached strands of pastel yellow, pink and blue mixed magnificently with her natural inky black.

“Is hornyness even a word?” Kevin wondered aloud as he observed the knickknacks placed at even intervals utop the kitchen cabinets. Blessica was with him. She was gazing at one of a crab steering a ship when she spotted a slim piece of paper taped below it.

“Ast,” she called. The both looked in her direction, despite Blessica needing the attention of one. “Your dad says he won’t be home till seven. Emergency at work.”

“Which leaves us more than enough time to pack and head over to meet Ty, Dru and Thaìs at the arcade,” said Kit. He finally turned his phone off and shoved it into the back pocket of his ripped jeans. “Marstrid can do the ol’ devil’s tango then catch up to us.”

‘Marstrid’ wrinkled their noses. “I thought we agreed on Astari, Christopher.”

“Astari sounds gayer,” confirmed Kevin, his eyes never leaving the miniature decorations.

“Not to be rude but why does Astari sound gayer?” asked a visibly confused Blessica.

“Because,” answered Mari, unraveling herself from Astrid to slide onto one of the bar stools and reaching into the Jolly Rancher jar, blindly searching for a green, “Astari has ‘star’ in it. Star equals astrology. An obsession with astrology is the price you pay for the gay agenda. Besides, Marstrid sounds like an old southern lady.” Then she furrowed her eyebrows and swiveled to face Astrid. “Southern is Texas, right?” Astrid nooded, a smile so big the Cheshire Cat would be jealous.

Without looking, she stuck her hand in the jar and pulled out a green apple flavoured hard candy on her first try. She held it out to Mari, who snatched it out of her hand with an angry huff.

“Hey, Ast, where do you guys keep the crisps?” asked Kevin when he finished inspecting all the knickknacks.

“Uh, under the barbecue sauce, I think.”

Kit’s eyes lit up. “So I’m sitting there”- Astrid understood what was happening in just enough time to quote- “barbecue sauce on my titties” in unison.

Mari put her head into their open palms, still sucking on the pity candy. “Why is this my type?”

“Are you sure this is the right place?” asked Blessica as Kit attempted to parallel park outside the location Ty had texted him to meet at. Key word, attempt. When Tessa had taught him to drive, he’d been such a disaster at parallel parking she had instructed him to ‘take the underground when tight spaces might be a possibility.’ Which he prided himself in doing. But this was America and the underground was called the subway, so, technically, no rules were being broken.

“Yes, Blessie, I’m certain.”

“Okay. Just checking cause a few turns back the GPS said-”

“Blessie!” He nearly crashed into the car in front of him.

“Right. Shutting up.”

When Kit managed to park with minimal damage and the three were about to exit, the voice of Nicki Minaj boomed from his pocket. Ty was calling him. He accepted the call, putting it on speaker.

“Hello Tiberius.” There was giggling from the other end of the line. A groan soon followed it.

“It’s been a year,” came the annoyed voice of Dru. “Get over your British kink already.” Kevin’s laughter echoed from the backseat.

“Hey Ty!

“Hi Kevin.”

”Hey Dru!”

“Fuck off.”

“Ouch. Why do you feel the need to hurt me so?” Blessica laughed.

“Hey…Thaìs?”

“Here,” replied Thaìs cheerfully.

“Are you here yet,” asked Ty.

“Uh, yeah! We were just getting out of the rental car when you called. You didn’t tell me it was going to be crowded. I had to parallel park!”

“What are you talking about?” interrupted Dru. ”There are only four cars in the parking lot.”

“But,” Ty countered, “there are lots of Billy’s Fun Zones’ around here. You guys must have got mixed up and taken a wrong turn. I could have sworn I sent you the correct location on GPS.” Maybe Ty said more on the subject but Kit could hear anything or see anything except the superior smirk Blessica was giving him.

He covered the speaker. “Not. A. Word.” And no word came out of her mouth the entire ride to the correct Billy’s Fun Zone but the ‘I told you so’ look on her face spoke loud enough.

Kit slid back into the booth next to Ty, handing him his pretzel. Ty kissed him on the check in gratitude.

Dru and Ty were right. About this one being empty. He told him he had heard about it from Alyssa. Her pack frequented it often. They were left alone because, well, there was no one else there to bother them.

“Where are Astrid and Mari?” he asked.

“Fucking. I think. Or maybe just making out. I’ll know which one when they finish.” When Ty gave him a puzzled look he continued, “Astrid describes it all to me in full detail. I honestly don’t know whether she doesn’t have a filter or she just needs someone to scream to about how amazing Mari is.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“True, true.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Ty picked up the conversation again. “When Thaìs first met Astrid, she had a huge crush on her. They got along great. I always thought they would end up together. Or hook up at the very least.”

“Huh, that’s funny,” observed Kit.

“What is?”

“When me and Mari split, I was planning on trying to set them up with Thaìs. But then I caught her ans Astrid making out in a storage closet at school. Which, in hindsight, was pretty stupid cause they were in there so I wouldn’t be sad Mari moved on when I opened the door in the first place avoiding her to call you.”

“Hmmmm.”

The gears in Ty’s head were visibly turning. Kit loved watching this process. An idea was forming in his boyfriend’s genius mind, he could sense it.

“What is their stance on monogamy?” he asked finally.

“Um, fuck, hold on. Mari sent me this whole speech about it.” Kit scrolled through his phone at a rapid rate before he saw what he was looking for. He cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:52 AM: monogamy is just another lie capitalism has fed us

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:55 AM: like, for example, the notion that house spiders are ugly and to be feared

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: it’s just to sell bug spray

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: same with monogamy

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: pointless!!!

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:58 AM: in conclusion, if I want to join a polyam cult, who tf is the government to stop me?

Kev-Kev, sent 2:01 AM: mari please go to sleep

Bless-ing_to_the_world, sent 2:04 AM: ^^^^^^^^^^^

Mitski_my_love, sent 2:05 AM: preach!

Mitski_my_love, sent 2:05 AM: go off queen

By the time Kit was finished with his dramatic reading, Ty’s plan was fully formed.

“That settles it! We are going to play matchmakers!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alyssa, Ty’s friend mentioned is @thechangeling OC, not mine.

@the-blackdale @the-wckd-powers @adoravel-fenomeno @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @illusions-give-reasons-to-live @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @sofiatheskeleton @cncnbr @its-taff @noah-herondale-lightwood @maxboythedog @arangiajoan @shelvesofgold @book-dragon-not-worm sorry if I missed anyone LMK if you want to be added or removed from The tag List!!

#mari machado sotomayor #mari machado #mari the werewolf #tiberius blackthorn #dru blackthorn #ty blackthorn #drusilla blackthorn #blessica reyes #the merry hoes #kevin chu #astrid yang #kit rook #kit herondale #thais pedroso #the secrets of blackthorn hall #the wicked powers

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lovenhlboys · 3 years

Text

From A Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 3

Masterlist

Get added to taglist

A/N: Hellooooo there!!! here is the next chapter, sorry it took me so long, I hope the others will not take nearly as long!! anyways, I really hope you like it and lmk what you think PLEASE!!! Also biggest thanks to Ash cause like, why not, she’s helped me with this and literally everything😂😂

ALSO this one is from both of their POVs, so the change in POV is signalized by:

Y/N= regular ELIAS= italics

(any other info is on the masterlist)

Warnings: lots of cursing, mentions of Pretty Little Liars, another attempt at Swedish (if its wrong pls lmk) I think thats it, if you think I missed a warning please inform me!!!

Summary: Brock has a plan... he executes it.

Word Count: 2.7k

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< ———————— >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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

PRESENT (thoughts) ---------------

For you, your hardcore crush on Elias was very secretive. Only you, Quinn, and Marky know about it and you are not about to tell anyone else. Elias, he’s so funny, his humor is the exact same as yours and he never fails to make you laugh, even though he barely talks to you. He makes fun of your brother, just like you, and is extremely quick-witted with his comebacks.

And as for Elias, he's the only one who knows about his feelings, because he has worked hard to suppressed them. She has the best laugh. Elias tries his hardest to make her laugh whenever he can because every time he hears it makes his chest fill with warmth.

He has the best style and it’s so fun to see what he wears. Every once in a while there are a few questionable items, but overall, he always looks great. You love to see that he’s willing to take those fashionable risks. It’s better than what every other hockey player wears. The go-to of shorts and a t-shirt with a beanie.

She looks amazing in everything that she wears without even trying. She could be in a dirty sweatshirt and sweatpants and he would still think she was the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Her hair, her shoulders, the curve of her hips and back, all of it was perfect. But his favorite thing had to be her legs, they went on for days and the contour of her muscles was so beautiful to him. Safe to say any day she wore shorts, Elias had to try extra hard not to stare.

He has the most beautiful face you've ever known. His jawline was immaculate, like nothing you'd ever seen. His light golden blonde hair was so unique and it reflected the light in the prettiest way, at every angle. His smile, while dorky, was also something you couldn't stop yourself from staring at, always making you smile too, at how adorable he looked when he was happy.

She is totally off-limits.

He doesn’t like you.

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

PRESENT

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

You loved your brother, but my god could he be stupid sometimes. He’d texted you TWENTY minutes ago to meet him in the break room and he still wasn’t there. You’d texted him 7 times and he hadn’t responded. You had started to text him an eighth time when the door opened.

“There you ar- Oh. Hi Elias, what’re you doing here?” instead of your brother, like you had thought, it was the gorgeous swede, wearing a pair of glasses that complemented all of his features, a light blue sweatshirt, a backwards snapback, and a nice pair of black sweatpants...needless to say he looked quite sexy. Especially compared to you, you were wearing one of Quinn’s Canucks sweatshirts (that you definitely didn't steal), leggings, you had your hair up, you didn't have any makeup on so you looked, well, not sexy (in your opinion).

“Uh, hi Y/N, um is Brock here?” he asked as he closed the door behind him and looked around the room.

“No, he told me to meet him here like 20 minutes ago and he still isn’t here,” you said.

“Weird, he told me to meet him here like 15 minutes ago,” Elias explained.

You shake your head and laugh, knowing exactly what’s happening.

“What?” he asked, reasonably confused as to what’s going on.

“Elias can you do something for me?” you asked, he nodded. “Go try and open that door, please,” you instructed him.

He walked up and just like you were thinking, the door didn’t move.

You laughed again then shouted, “OH, FUCK YOU BOESER!!”

“What’s happening right now?” Elias said tugging at the door still.

“Brock is a FUCKING CHILD is what’s happening, he locked us in.”

“What? Why?”

“Who knows?” you, that’s who. You knew precisely why Brock would want to lock the two of you in together. Because his best friend didn’t like you and he wanted the two of you to get along. You pulled this trick on Brock and his friend Julia, in high school when they had a big fight.

“Well, how long will he keep us in here?” Elias questioned.

“Why, do you have somewhere to be?” you asked him.

“No, I’m just wondering.”

“Don’t want to be alone with me that long?” You said with a laugh, even though you weren’t joking (he didn’t have to know that).

“What? No, why would you think that?” he seemed genuinely upset at your suggestion.

“I don’t. It’s just- never mind” you stopped yourself.

“Y/N, what is it?” he pushed.

“I don’t know,” you said, then you gave in to his request, “it’s just that you never want to be alone with me, and you never talk to me, I just assumed you didn’t like me”

Elias let out a loud laugh and sat down next to you on the couch, “Why wouldn’t I like you? You’re my best friend’s little sister.”

“Well let’s see the evidence shall we…”

You went on to describe the events of the summer party at Bo’s house in August of 2019. The night you felt confirmed your suspicions that the swede didn’t like you.

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

FLASHBACK

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

It was early August so you were wearing a white short-sleeved blouse with pink flowers, and a white denim mini skirt. You and Brock had arrived late because Brock was trying to get his hair all “floofy and perfect”

As you walked in, you said hi to everyone, made your rounds of greetings. Once you finished, you ended up right where you thought you would, talking with Thatcher and Troy. As you were talking, you made eye contact with Elias across the room and waved at him. But he didn’t wave back or smile or nod like you were expecting, he rolled his eyes and turned around.

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

PRESENT

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

Elias stopped you there

“Wait wait wait, that’s is not what happened” he dismissed your details of the story.

“Yes, it is! I waved and you looked so annoyed!” you insisted.

“Ok, this is what I remember...”

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

FLASHBACK

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

Elias was talking to Brock about God knows what. Brock was in the middle of talking when he glanced over and saw Y/N, Troy, and Thatcher all talking to each other. He was looking at Troy who was pointing at Y/N and Thatcher making kissy faces. Implying what he was afraid of: Thatcher and Y/N were together in some way. So yeah, he rolled his eyes and turned around, because he was a little hurt and a lot jealous. (though that's not exactly what he told you)

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

PRESENT

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

“I rolled my eyes and turned around because I thought It was so ridiculous to think that you would ever like Dems,” liar, “like I thought Stech was being stupid, that would make no sense YOU liking HIM,” he laughed, he’s a lying liar who lies. Though he did think that wasn’t even possible. Having seen how annoyed she gets around Thatcher now, the thought that she’d ever like him in a way that was anything more than ‘annoying friend that I have to deal with’ Seemed inconceivable. She is so far out of his league it’s not even funny.

You didn’t say anything, just looked down at your feet. The boy you have a very hardcore crush on right now is talking about his good friend that you had a minor crush on back then.

Elias could apparently tell you weren’t telling him something “...Y/N”

“Mhmm” you hummed, still no eye contact.

“What is it?”

“Uhh, so, here’s the thing,” you said sounding quite guilty, “I may or may not have, you know, hadacrushonthatcher… back then” you mumbled.

Elias was silent for about 5 seconds and it felt like you had died and come back to life within those seconds. “I’m sorry, did I hear that right?”

“I don’t know,” you turned to the door, “hey Brock, now that you’ve humiliated me, may we leave? I would like to go home and wallow in my self-pity.”

“No, wait Y/N. It’s fine, why does it matter? You don’t like him now?” he correctly assumed.

“God no, ew,” you scoffed.

“Ok, so why does it matter?” he genuinely wanted to know.

“It doesn’t, I guess. I just don’t want you to think I like him is all” God he’s going to figure it out.

“Yeah, no. I’ve seen how annoying he is'' Elias replied. Thinking the only reason she didn’t want him to know was that you liked a certain friend of his. The other Swede in the group. Since the incident at Brock and Y/N’s place, he has come to learn that they aren’t together, he’s familiar with the term “cuddle buddies” now which doesn’t make any sense. But he can’t deny how Y/N and Jacob act around each other. Sure, Quinn explained that they don’t think of each other as anything more than that. He even said that Marky goes on dates all the time. Even still, he knows he’ll never be the one Y/N has her eyes on, and even if she went crazy and did think of him that way, he could never act on it. Brock would kill him, and as he keeps having to remind himself: his friendship and on-ice chemistry is too important to risk.

“Yeah well, Marky’s great too,” he said, pulling your attention from the way he looked in those glasses, and that hat...damn.

“...Yeaaaah?” you said, suddenly quite confused as to where he was going with this. You nodded your head, wordlessly telling him to continue.

“And, uh, I think he’s great… really…. great'' he almost seemed annoyed by what he was saying. More importantly, you were extremely lost.

“Elias, stop being vague. You're confusing me,” you said plainly.

“What Y/N, do you not know what I'm getting at?” he said, assuming you knew what he meant, continuing to stay all vague and Swedish.

“Obviously not,” you rolled your eyes and looked back at his still annoyed face.

“You and Marky? I think he's great...you know…” he paused and took a deep breath, then mumbled, “for you”

You burst out laughing, “Elias Fredrik Pettersson”

“Fredrik?” he whispered to himself with a smirk at the way you said his full name.

“I’m not dating, nor do I want to date Jacob Markstrom.”

“Yeah right,” he said in his classic sarcastic tone.

“I don't! Our personalities clash so bad! Have you not noticed that?” you shouted trying to make it clear to him.

“I mean, I don't know” his face was turning red at his seemingly wrong and laughable accusation.

“Ok, Elias, look at me,” he did with his goddamn beautiful eyes, “Think about it,” you told him.

And he did as you said.

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

FLASHBACK

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

One night, in particular, stood out, it was about 4 weeks ago and the Canucks were on the road. Quinn and Elias were sitting on Quinn’s bed. The door burst open, Y/N ran in, Jacob following close behind.

Y/N sat next to Quinn and tucked her head into his neck.

“Woah, Y/N/N what’s wrong?” Quinn held her head and hit pause on the episode of Pretty Little Liars they were in the middle of watching. Elias turned and watched the events, knowing he’s most likely going to just be an observer for the rest of this interaction

She pulled her head out of Quinn’s neck. At this point all of them were sitting up, Jacob on his bed, the other three all on Quinn’s, “Marky is an ASS,” she said, looking directly at Marky.

“I am not, she’s being a drama queen,” he defended himself.

“I’m sorry have you met her?” Quinn laughed, “She’s literally the complete opposite of a drama queen”

“Fine, ask her what happened then” Jacob gestured at Y/N.

“Y/N/N” Quinn asked her to continue.

“Well” she started, “this dumbass Giraffe tried to get me to talk to the ever so beautiful Gabriel Landeskog.”

“How is that so horrible, he’s such a nice guy?” Jacob seemed genuinely confused.

“I’m not social Marky!! I don't do that, he so hot and I looked like an idiot.”

“No, you didn’t. oh my god,” Jacob said, rolling his eyes. “du är precis som Elias (you are just like Elias)”

“aj (ouch)”

“God, I hate it when you guys do that” Quinn whispered.

Y/N continued, “JACOB, I said, and I QUOTE, ‘Woah, damn’ and then stood there staring at him like an IDIOT”

“You did not?” Quinn said, laughing.

“Huggy, I swear to god, I will slap you” she turned and looked at Quinn with legit murder in her eyes.

“Ok, but yeah, Marky you don’t do that shit to Y/N. She’s just like me, we don’t socialize well.”

“I don’t get it, like I know you’d rather stay in when I want to go out, I just didn’t think it was this bad.”

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” she said, shoving her hands in her hair, “I looked so stupid. And did I mention HE’S HOT”

“Wow, you really have a thing for Swedes, huh?” Quinn quipped.

Her eyes widened. “Quinn Hughes, shut the actual fuck up” she shoved the giggling defenseman. Quinn just stayed laying down and continued to laugh, he then looked at Jacob with a knowing glance and a grin, and Marky giggled. Elias assumed it was because Jacob was aware of Y/N’s feelings.

Elias had been observing this interaction from afar, afar meaning about 2 feet away on the opposite side of the bed. He completely agreed with her, if he was shoved into an uncomfortable situation with someone he’s never met, he’d act just about as stupid as she did. And even he had to admit, Gabe Landeskog is hot as FUCK.

“Ok, Y/C/N/N, I’m sorry. But I didn’t know it was that bad. Side note, how come all of my close friends except for like 3 are super antisocial. I mean look in this room. You three are the exact same.”

“Wow… this right here, THIS is why you are only good for hugging” she gets up and walks over to the other bed where Marky is sitting.

“You’re so sweet to me, you know that?” sarcasm evident in his tone, he hugs her.

“Marky, you know I’m not sweet.”

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

PRESENT

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

Elias grinned to himself at that. She was right, she’s not sweet. She’s not mean but she surely isn’t sweet. Just like him. And she was the perfect amount of smartass, beautiful, loving, funny, antisocial, tough, and strong. She was literally everything he could’ve wanted.

Before he let himself get too lost in that thought of her again, he responded “ok, yeah I guess.”

“Didn’t Quinn tell you that I don't like Marky like 10 times?”

“Yeah, but I just- the way you guys act around each other. It just would make sense.”

“Well, now you know.”

Silence filled the room once more, you looked over at Elias. he was smiling and looking down at his hands. You continued to be mesmerized by just how beautiful the boy in front of you looked. With his backwards snap back and sweats, it seemed as though he had just thrown on a random outfit, and to anyone else that was probably what they would think. But that didn't matter to you, he was just so pretty and it filled your brain with too many thoughts. thoughts that you knew you shouldn't be having about him because he clearly wasn't your biggest fan. But that got you thinking even more (which is dangerous), he was acting different, it seemed as though he had let his guard down. He's never done that with you, in fact it felt like when you were around him, his guard was reinforced. He looked a little softer, sweeter, the guy you met at the Dice-and-Ice gala, you think. All you wanted was for that guard to stay down, giving you access to the guy you had a crush on, not just his hard outer shell.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< ———————— >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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#from a distance: series #give feedback 😁#elias pettersson #hockey #nhl #vancouver canucks #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #elias pettersson imagines #elias pettersson imagine #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson fic #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine

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onlyswan · 3 years

Text

cloudburst | jjk

→ pairing: jungkook x oc

→ genre: fluff, angst

→ warnings: mention of depression, profanities bc i curse a lot

→ word count: 1.2k

summary: cloudburst (n.) an extreme amount of precipitation in a short period of time, sometimes accompanied by hail and thunder, which is capable of creating flood conditions;

or the only word close enough to describe the peculiar episodes of rainstorm that befall the vicinity when jungkook and ivy’s skin touch.

note: so um i came up with this idea for like more than a year now lol it’s supposedly a story but my motivation always ends up short so i gave it a try today and ended up using jk and i badly need to post it somewhere so here you go i guess lmk what you think?

___

“the weather app said it would be sunny today. why the fuck is it raining cats and dogs?” the woman who just entered the café grumbled, her hair dripping across the floor with every stride she took on the way to a table.

her friend it seems like laughed at her appearance, “i warned you that it rains here a lot yet you still moved. invest in all things waterproof,”

ivy looked over at jungkook with a guilty look on her face, which he deliberately ignored. he continued sipping on his coffee, one hand scrolling through his laptop and the other with no plans on letting go of hers. they’ve been here before. they’ve fought countless of times because she can’t stop worrying about how their relationship affects other people, and well, the entire planet.

“jungkook, humans need sun. the plants and trees that give us oxygen need the fucking sun. it can’t rain every day! we will die!”

“but i need you every day. is that not an enough reason?”

and how could she possibly forget this one…

“the local government is panicking about the flood. it makes no absolute sense why it would rain this hard suddenly often. i think they’re executing a project to redo the roads,”

“good. that’s their damn job,”

the thing is… jungkook knows what he wants and he will not let anything stand in his way of getting it. this fact has been well established ever since he was a little kid. when his parents wouldn’t let him get the toy he was eyeing the moment they stepped into the mall, he made his own means and got it for himself, selling the drawings he worked all night on to his classmates and mooching off them for food during recess instead of spending his allowance on overpriced food at the cafeteria. they don’t support his career choice? that’s fine. he moved out and tried, is still trying, his very best to survive in the world outside their roof. to say his parents are still baffled by this action is an understatement. he might be stubborn, and well, bratty, but he never begs. he never asks twice. it is that simple. wait. correction. was.

jungkook is a hopeless romantic. he isn’t shy about it, but he isn’t very proud of it either. he likes classic romance movies and that’s how he imagines true love would be like. he loves the yearning, stolen glances, shy compliments, petty jealousy. but oh my fucking god, not like this. he is whipped. there is no denying. the fondness he has even for the most trivial things about ivy fascinates him. why do the smallest interactions put a stupid smile on my face? why does her voice gives me butterflies? why the fuck can’t i get enough of her? his friends are terrified of commitment. if they could only hear his thoughts, they would laugh at his face. one day they will understand and i will laugh at their faces then, he would always think to himself when they discuss about not wanting to get tied down and bossed around. because he would do anything and everything for ivy. that is why he pissed off all the damn time. sure, he enjoys the longing and slow burn. but not when one small touch and it rains so hard it looks like the sky is going to fucking fall upon the earth, not when ivy is sad and he can’t hold her in his arms without making her feel more down. rain makes her gloomy and depressed, that is one of the first things he learned about her. the irony makes him want to laugh and cry. she always assures him that it’s alright, that she has found comfort in it somehow, because she has him by her side. and she means it wholeheartedly. jungkook finds it hard to believe her, but he smiles and kisses her anyway, the ringing of the raindrops against the roof turning mute. her kisses make everything better.

her love language is physical touch, so when they both came to a realization as to why it rains every time they are together, she felt cursed. why? out of all people, why her? she had boyfriends before, but the connection she has with jungkook is different. he treats her right. she is generally shy but once she talks, she would go on and on. she rambles when she is happy, excited, frustrated, or angry. they all get tired of this eventually, but not jungkook. he finds it adorable, and he listens intently whether it’s about how fucked up her childhood was or how much she wants a black cat. he makes her feel happy and loved. but it seems like the universe is against her happiness. when things don’t go her way, she shuts everyone out and drowns herself in her own misery. she knows she’s pathetic, but at least she’s not letting this patheticness bother anyone else, right?

jungkook never begs. he does not ask twice. but for ivy, he would get on his knees. just like when he spent the entire night knocking on her door.

“just leave, jungkook. this is fucking stupid. we are stupid,” she made sure to speak clearly, to not wobble on her words. her voice betrayed her at the end. “we’re over,” it came out as a whisper and she was almost terrified that he heard it. he did.

“let me in, please. let’s talk properly. how are you just going to decide that we’re done? there are two of us in this relationship, ivy,” he tried to reason with her, pulling at his sleeves in an attempt to warm his freezing hands. he wants nothing but to cuddle in her soft and warm bed, he’s in pain. he hates this entire situation, but he loves her most in the world.

“you sound ridiculous. we haven’t been together that long. you will move on, and i will, too,” the truth is she feels ridiculous. yes, they haven’t been together for that long but she has grown attached. and this hurts worse than she expected. “…right?”

“that’s bullshit and you know it. i don’t care about the consequences. i don’t want to lose you,” it has never been this difficult to walk away, so you know what? fuck ego. fuck the goddamn planet. “we will make this work. we have to. so when you’re ready to open the door, i will be here.”

ivy smiled at the sight of her boyfriend focused on drawing on his tablet, legs crossed and the digital pencil gripped by his tattooed hand she usually loves holding, but she’ll let him work for now. he tsked when a strand of hair fell over his eyes, which she brushed back immediately.

“just put your hair in a bun so it wouldn’t bother you,”

he pouted, “you do it better than me,”

“liar, you just don’t want to move,” she rolled her eyes but stood up anyway.

“maybeee,” he chuckled, averting his attention back to the screen as she did his hair. she loves his hair, more so with that damn undercut, but she won’t tell him that and well, she doesn’t really have to, because he already knows. with the way she constantly plays with it and tells him to put it up? she’s not exactly slick.

“thanks, baby. i love you,” he hummed. she kissed his cheek as a return of appreciation and fought back a wince when the lady from the other table continued complaining because the drizzle outside intensified to a rain once again.

jungkook merely shrugged and turned the screen towards her. “what do you think?”

#jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook fanfic #bts #bts fluff #jungkook scenario #bts fanfic #bts angst

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sharkbait77 · 3 years

Text

The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Chapter Five

Warnings: Hoo boy okay this one is a little darker, please proceed with caution. I don't explicitly describe any domestic abuse, but it is mentioned & very heavily implied. Language, self deprecating/anxious thoughts, self doubt, feelings of worthlessness, sadness, those mean little voices in your head. I'm sorry if I missed any, pls lmk!

W/C: 4.1k

A/N: So this one is a sad one, the next chapter (5.5) I have written is completely optional because she does go further into detail about what she went through (nothing graphic) so I don't want anyone to read it if they're not comfortable. You won't miss much if you skip & since it's just under 2k I'll be posting it right after this chapter. I also did not put the tag list on 5.5 in case anyone on my list is not comfortable. Please be cautious, I may be over exaggerating but I'd rather play it safe. Also ionkno nothin about nothin when it comes to fbi stuff so just humor me lol

Songs mentioned:

(The version I imagined Reader singing for Iris is so great & beautiful, pls check out the karaoke version!)

Chapter 5.5 (ONLY IF YOU'RE COMFORTABLE)

Chapter Four | Chapter Six

The Singer Masterlist

Marcus walks into the bureau, a cup of coffee in one hand and his briefcase in the other, pressing the button with his elbow to call the elevator. He's humming the jingle to some toothpaste commercial he saw this morning, the little tune sticking in his brain. It's been so long since he's allowed that to happen so he doesn't mind the thirty second melody looping in his head. He stands there, patiently waiting for the elevator doors to open when Anthony comes up behind him.

"Hey Pike, you sound like you're in a good mood," he smiles.

"Well, I'm just excited that we're finally catching up to this guy," he replies. The doors open and they both enter, along with other workers for different departments.

"You haven't heard yet?" Anthony asks and Marcus glances over at him with a questioning look. Anthony leans his head to Marcus's ear to whisper.

"They know where he is, we have a last known location so we're leaving for Australia tonight."

"Tonight?!" Marcus asks loudly, the others in the elevator turning to glance at him. Anthony nudges his arm and shushes him.

"Dude," he shakes his head.

The doors open to the art department floor and Marcus and Anthony exit. They walk to Marcus's office and he closes the door roughly, throwing his briefcase on his desk and turning back to Anthony.

"No one thought to call me and let me know?" He asks, frustration with his team building. "When did all this happen?"

"Just this morning boss. I thought you knew man, I'm sorry," Anthony says while he rubs the back of his head. Marcus sighs deeply.

"Well, what matters is that we know where he is. See if we can get an earlier flight so we can get this over with."

Marcus dismisses Anthony and sits down in his chair, rubbing his temples to soothe the oncoming headache. He wants to talk to you, to call and hear your beautiful voice, but you've been avoiding him. He's even shown up at the bar to talk to you and you leave faster than you would if the building was on fire.

He feels awful; he knows he scared you when he opened up about Teresa. He gave you time and space, but it's been two weeks since that night at your apartment and he was starting to get worried you wouldn't want to see him again. He at least wanted a chance to talk about it with you.

Me: Dulce, please call me

Me: I need to talk to you

* * * *

A month passed by. A whole month of you dodging Marcus's calls and attempts to talk to you at the bar. He was there the two weeks that followed the date at your apartment, hoping to catch you, but you expertly disappeared as soon as you would finish singing, using the 'under the weather' excuse for not joining the crowd like usual. You felt so cowardly, so mean for what you were doing to Marcus. And when he didn't show up the two weeks after, you were heartbroken. Unrightfully so, seeing as he probably only caught on to your game and decided to do what was best for him. Why are you like this?

You sit on your couch as you wait for Celina to pick you up, the ghost of Marcus still lingering in the air. You were having such a great time with him. Why did I decide to cut him out again? You don't know the answer anymore, only your pitiful excuses. Your phone buzzes with a text from Celina, letting you know she's downstairs. You take a deep breath and grab your purse, heading out the door and locking it behind you.

You greet Celina as you slide in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt. A comfortable silence falls between you. You've never needed to keep up conversation with Celina just for it to not be awkward and you loved that about your relationship, especially in times like these where your brain is mush and you don't have any words.

"So how are you and Marcus getting along? You haven't updated me since your second date!" Celina asks when you hit a red light. And there it is. As much as you thought you could avoid it.

"Well..." You sigh.

You felt bad for not letting her in on what was going on and the war waging in your mind, but you'd rather suffer alone than take everyone down with you.

"Uh oh, what happened?" She could always see right through you. "Do I need to slash his tires?"

"No!" You chuckle at her tenacity. "No, Marcus is great; he's really sweet and the perfect gentleman. I never felt pressured to do anything with him."

"And that's...bad?" She squints her eyes at you.

"No, not at all. I mean he's...perfect..." You trail off, sadness traveling through your body now.

"So what's the problem?" She asks, paying attention to the road again when the light turns green.

"It's just..." You say softly, your voice barely a whisper. Celina gives you time to collect your thoughts, but once she realizes you won't continue your side of the conversation, she speaks.

"Is this about Aaron?" She glances over at you, your head now turned to face the window so she can't see the tears rolling down your face. Your silence did nothing but prove her assumption correct.

"Honey..." Her voice is thick with sympathy and she pauses while she thinks of what to say.

"I know what he did to you messed you up, and I hope he suffers the rest of his life and karma never stops kicking his ass, but you've come so far and you've healed so much since then. Don't you think it's time to give yourself a chance to love and let them love you? Especially if Marcus is the perfect guy you say he is?"

"I'm just scared Lina," you finally speak when you know your sobs won't take your voice away. "Aaron was nice in the beginning too."

"Yeah, but...you also married him straight out of high school; you were just a kid blinded by love. You don't have to rush with Marcus. Just give him a chance and give yourself a chance to see that there are good guys out there willing to treat you right." You go silent again as Celina pulls up to the bar and she parks into her usual spot and turns off the ignition.

"I think deep down you know that Marcus is one of the good ones, otherwise you wouldn't have gone out with him all those times."

"I do know he's a good guy, he's probably as best as they come, but..." You twiddle your thumbs in your lap, staring at them to avoid eye contact with your best friend.

"But...?" Celina coaxes.

"What if I'm not good enough for him?"

It's the first time you've said your insecurity out loud since it entered your mind and once the question fell from your lips, you covered your face with your hands to quietly cry into them. That was the true question nagging your brain; not whether Marcus was good enough for you, but the opposite. You took your time to heal from your ex husband's abuse and you made a lot of progress, but the one truth he made you believe that never fully left was you not being worthy of anyone else's love.

You tried dating following the years of your divorce, but there was never anyone that caught your attention or made you feel special. In the end, the couple of guys you dated were just flings, only hooking up with them to satisfy your own basic needs. But with Marcus, you feel as though he could be everything you're looking for, everything you need in your life, and yet you still can't let your heart open, fearful that one day he might look at you and confirm what you're already thinking. That you're just not good enough.

"What?" Celina asks incredulously. "Babe, where is this coming from?"

"His exes are super successful and powerful. What am I? I haven't done anything meaningful with my life." The cruel voices in your head take over and spill out of your mouth through tears.

"Hey, don't you dare say that shit ever again," Celina replies in a stern tone, making your heart race as if you were being yelled at by your mother and your tears halt.

"Don't you ever dare compare yourself to anyone else; you are a strong, confident woman, a bad ass bitch, and I doubt that Marcus cares about whether you're unemployed or a fucking NASA scientist. He knows what you do and he hasn't held it against you or tried to make you feel bad for it because he likes you, not what you do. You're being unfair to him."

You slink into your seat as you're scolded. Her harsh words of tough love wash through your mind, cancelling out the other voices. You know she's right; you even said so yourself one night you tried to snap yourself out of this spiral you were going down. Singing has always been your one passion and you love that you're able to do it for a living, even if it's only once a week for now. Singing is what helped you out of the pit your ex left you in. You love what you do and where you work and all the people that show up for you and support you.

You think about Marcus. He quickly became one of those people, coming to the bar every week right after work just to support you. Love is too strong a word for it right now, but it's definitely some sort of affection. You think about the success of his life. Becoming FBI is no easy feat and he definitely has a lot to be proud of himself for, so would he ever look down on you for your career or lack thereof?

"I'm just worried one day he'll think I'm not good enough and it'll prove Aaron right," you say as your tears pick back up into sobs.

"Sweetie," Celina sighs, letting her frustration dissolve and her tone goes soft again. She rubs your shoulder with her hand, comforting you until your crying quiets down.

"You holding on to that belief is what's keeping Aaron tied to your ankles. Anytime you pass the opportunity for love because of that, you're letting him win."

Your tears stop and you sniffle as you look up at her. Leave it to Celina to make you see it in a new light. You nod your understanding and she gives you a soft smile.

"Are you okay? You don't have to sing tonight, we can just do some instrumentals."

"It's already instrumental night; I can't leave you up there all by yourself," you both chuckle. "I want to sing. I don't want him to take that away from me again," you say, not wanting to say your ex's name.

"That's my girl," Celina says proudly, a softness lingering in her eyes. "Let's get you in there and you can wash your face in the restroom."

You both exit the car and she grabs her guitar case from the backseat and once you meet up in front of the bar, Celina pulls you into a hug and it deflates your lungs with how tight she squeezes you. You thank her and head inside the bar, making a beeline to the restroom while Celina takes your purse to the stage. You splash your face with cold water, the shocking sensation relaxing your nerves and you take a deep breath as you replay Celina's words in your head. She's right.

You look in the mirror at your bloodshot eyes and puffy face. Great. You're slightly ashamed of the self doubt you let take control. You wish Celina's pep talk was enough to snap you out of it, for the most part it did, but it only temporarily got filed away in the back of your mind. Eventually, it'll disappear completely, but for now you'll just try to keep your chin up and move on. You also know you need to apologize to Marcus. Your eyes water when the guilt of how you've treated him swirls in your brain, but you fight the tears off and you take another deep breath before leaving the bathroom.

You walk along the bar top, not many people are sitting there, but one man catches your eye. He looks familiar... As you step closer and he comes into view, your heart races when you realize it's Marcus, now with a fresh haircut and clean-shaven face. He turns his head in your direction when he hears your steps approaching and smiles brightly. Your breath is snatched right from your lungs, both at his handsome, bare face, the dimple in his cheek even more visible, and also from nervousness. He's here. He's right fucking here. What do I say?

"You shaved," you divulge and he laughs. God, how I missed that sound.

"I did."

You stand there awkwardly, knowing and not knowing what to say at the same time. You want to hug him, but he'll probably just push you away. You want to apologize, but he'll probably just laugh in your face. You want to say you were being stupid and he'll probably agree.

"Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a while." No shit, you tried to cut him out. You mentally curse yourself at how dumb you sound.

"We caught the guy that stole that Bauer painting. Turns out he was behind a lot of other thefts we were after. I was rushed to Australia and had to stay there the past couple of weeks. I tried to call to let you know, but I didn't get through to you and my phone plan doesn't cover international calls," he shakes his head and you smile slightly.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking into your red, puffy eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," you say as you smile. He knows you're not, but you obviously don't want to talk about it and this isn't the place for him to persuade you to try.

"Well... How are you feeling?"

"What do you mean?" You ask, befuddled by his question.

"The last couple of times I came to your show, you said you weren't feeling well. Plus we haven’t really talked in a while. You must have been pretty sick," he chuckles softly.

Oh my god. Is this a trick question? He's onto you.

"Oh..." You look down. "About that-"

Celina calls you from the stage and you check your watch; it's time to start the show.

"Shoot, I gotta go," you look at Marcus wistfully; you wish you had taken up Celina's offer to not sing tonight, if only to stay and talk to Marcus.

"I just wanted to come and say hi; I can't stay long. Maybe for a couple of songs, but I have to get back to work to finish filling out some papers," Marcus frowns.

You nod understandingly and say goodbye hurriedly, not wanting to break open the dam of tears again when they're still so fresh. You feel Marcus’s eyes burning on your back as you walk away. He had to have known that you were trying to cut him off and that possibility eats at your conscience. You rush to the stage and sit in the stool next to Celina, taking a deep breath and putting on a brave face for the crowd. Marcus notices the effortless switch in your mood, knowing something is bothering you, but you hide it well from everyone else.

"Good evening everyone," you smile into the microphone as you greet the crowd. "It's just me and Celina tonight and we've got some acoustic songs to play for you. Hope you enjoy."

Celina plucks the strings of her guitar, easing into the intro of "More Than Words" by Extreme. You look at Marcus periodically as you sing; he watches you just as intently as always, but you can tell by the look in his eyes that the gears are turning in his head, trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong.

You and Celina finish the song, waiting for the clapping to die down before she starts playing "Tears In Heaven" by Eric Clapton, followed by a slower version of "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls. Marcus feels the emotion you convey while you sing the lyrics, a little more than usual and he can sense these lyrics are coming from a place of grief.

Instead of watching you in amazement like usual, he lets the detective side of him read your tense body language and solemn face. He reads you like he would a criminal, trying to get some answers and crack the case. He feels sad as you sing these specific lyrics, voice thick with melancholy and on the verge of tears. Part of him is angry at the crowd; everyone is clearly oblivious to the pain you're revealing on stage, and he feels spiteful towards them for only caring about their own enjoyment.

He wonders if he should ask you about it, ask you if you need someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, but he doesn't want to overstep his boundaries. You hadn't been dating long and he knows you'll talk to him whenever you're ready, if you even wanted to talk to him at all anymore. He can see and feel the agony radiating off you as you sing and he just wants to take it all away, but he'll wait for you to tell him if that's what you need from him.

You look up when the song finishes and you see Marcus wave a sad goodbye to you from the bar top before walking out of the building. You feel your heart tug as he leaves, like you want to chase after him and just have him hold you. For his sake, you need to open up about everything and you need to let him go if that's what it takes for him to be happy.

You need to finish healing your heart and you know Marcus doesn't deserve to be held back because of your own hang ups. As much as you like him and wish he would wait for you, you can't expect him to, so you prepare yourself to let go, prepare to replace the bricks around your heart that Marcus tore down in the short time you were together.

The rest of the night goes smoothly until it's time to pack up and leave. You and Celina leave the bar, getting back in her car and she stays silent as she drives you home. It's like she knows the dilemma going on in your head and heart. You pull out your phone from your purse and compose a new text to Marcus.

Me: Can you come to my apartment when you're out of work?

Your body rushes with anxiety as you hit send. There's no going back now. The minutes feel like hours as you wait for a text back until, finally, your phone vibrates with a reply from him.

Marcus Pike: It might be a while, I don't want to keep you waiting late :/

Me: That's okay. I won't be able to sleep tonight until I talk to you

Marcus Pike: If you're sure then okay :) I'll be there as soon as I can

You put your phone back in your purse and mentally prepare yourself for either direction this conversation with Marcus could go. You haven't opened up to anyone besides Celina about your ex, so you're nervous to say the least. Maybe you'll feel a sense of relief after you let it all out, but either way, your relationship with Marcus will never be the same after tonight. The rational part of you says he won't judge you. Of course he wouldn't, he's a sweetheart. But the anxious part of you says he'll hate you forever. You really hope not.

Celina pulls up to your building and gives you a tight hug, slightly awkward from how you're both sitting in the car, but warm nonetheless. She smiles at you and tells you to call her if you need her and you exit the car, rushing up the stairs and entering your apartment. You decide to put your anxiety to good use and clean your apartment before Marcus shows up; what good would it do to just sit there chewing your nails?

You're not sure exactly how much time passes as you rush through cleaning the living room and dining room, just getting halfway through the kitchen when there's a light knock at your door. Your heart stops and your legs automatically propel you forward to the door, looking through the peephole and seeing Marcus standing there with his hands in his pockets. You take a deep breath and open the door.

"Hi Dulce," he says softly with a smile.

"Hi," you reply and step to the side, opening the door wider. "Uh, please come in."

"Thank you," he says as he steps inside and stands by your couch. You shut the door and take a couple of steps forward, standing across from him.

"Look, I need to apologize to you. I... I was never sick. I was avoiding you." Your heart drops when you see his eyes fall.

"I had a feeling," he replies in a low voice. He knew you were avoiding him, but to hear it out loud still hurt.

"But... Why?" He asks sadly.

"I thought I was doing you a favor by...cutting you out."

"What? How is that doing me a favor?" He's more curious than upset, but the frustration and pain are apparent in his voice just the same.

"I'm so sorry. I owe you an explanation," you say as you twiddle your thumbs, averting your eyes from his to keep your composure. Marcus stays quiet for a moment; all you can hear is his deep breathing, like he's trying to calm his own mind.

He thinks back on the last time you hung out at your apartment and the gravity of what he opened up to you about. I knew I freaked her out. He's angry with himself, thinking that he managed to chase another one away, only this one hurts more. He really thought there was something there between you two. But he can't be upset if this is how you feel. He'll just have to pick up the pieces and start again.

"You don't owe me anything," Marcus finally replies, furrowing his brows. He's still being so kind and stoic, even when you don't deserve it.

"I do though because... I really like you. And the times we went out were great." Your fingernail catches on a loose piece of skin on your cuticle and you direct your attention to it, picking the skin raw as you speak.

"The truth is I got intimidated. And insecure," you continue.

"About what?" He asks as he crosses his arms.

You recognize the defensive action and it makes you curl in on yourself. You try to push your anxiety out of your head; you know you need to be honest with him now, for his and your sake.

"Okay... I guess it just freaked me out knowing that your ex wife is a psychologist and your ex fiance is also an agent. It made me reflect badly on myself and I... I lost my confidence. I mean, I work at a library and I sing on the side. I don't even have a car." You shrug your shoulders and bite the skin off your lip as you hang your head. Marcus's eyes change from confused to sad again, for you this time.

"That's what you're worried about?" I was wrong, he thinks. He frowns and uncrosses his arms, letting them hang at his sides. "I don't care about any of that, I only care about you and the way you make me feel."

"That's the other thing too," you look up at him through your lashes. "I got freaked out about my feelings for you growing so fast and... Basically it all stems from my ex husband. He... He-"

"Dulce, we don't have to talk about it," Marcus says softly when he realizes where this conversation is heading.

You never said anything about your ex husband to him and he took that as a sign that it didn't end amicably, so he never asked. But seeing you in pain tonight, both while you sang and also while in front of him now, he knows whatever it is won't be pleasant. You exhale your breath through your mouth and look at him straight in his solemn eyes. It's time.

Chapter 5.5 (ONLY IF YOU'RE COMFORTABLE)

Chapter Four | Chapter Six

The Singer Masterlist

TAG LIST:

@hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @giselatropicana @sarahjkl82-blog @barbossa2319

#marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction

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stummysnort · 3 years

Text

The parallels between the real life Rudolf Nureyev and the fictional Peter Nureyev are really interesting! It’s pretty safe to assume this was at least partially intentional given STK’s dance background but either way his life is facinating and I would highly recommend researching him if you have the time. TLDR Rudolf Nureyev was Soviet-born, pretty gay, and one of the greatest male ballet dancers of all time. I tried my best to orchestrate this as well as possible but I’m not very good at explaining and I am no expert in any of these things, I would be flattered if anyone added on to/corrected/made this more concise so please feel free to!!!

ok so here are some Cool Things i’ve picked up on (major S1 spoilers and minor S3 spoilers)

Both Nureyevs grew up in extreme poverty. Rudolf was with his family during his youth (unlike Peter), however when he sought asylum in France at the age of 23 he was completely cut off from them. He was never allowed to see his family again*.

Rudolf’s asylum was a spontaneous reaction to the KGB attempting to imprison him, which to me is kindve reminiscent of Peter killing Mag. Peter killed his only family after realizing he was being used to further a plan he didn’t agree with. Likewise, Rudolf killed his ties to his home after the KGB tried to imprison him, because he wasn’t representing the Soviet Union how they wanted.

The Guardian Angel System seems like a pretty obvious metaphor for the KGB and its predecessors. The red lasers would make any criminal simply vanish, much like how the Soviets would purge anyone they suspected to be disloyal. The entire concept of “red lasers” also seems similar to the Red Army, which Rudolf’s dad was an officer in. Rudolf claimed he always hated his dad, a devout communist, and generally was very against the USSR. sidenote: the KGB had plans to literally break Rudolf’s legs to ruin his career and prevent him from spreading any anti-Soviet beliefs.

Rudolf died a premature death of HIV/AIDS despite his wealth and success and Peter suffers from chronic illness has crippling debt for completely unknown reasons. Rudolf was unlike many other dancers in that he became very wealthy, it isn’t uncommon for very talented dancers to be surprisingly poor.

The biggest difference they have is their personalities, but they both share intense motivation. Rudolf is noted to be short-tempered, inflamitory, and aggressive (although his close friends tended to describe him more tenderly as extremely passionate and driven). Peter is much more calculated and diplomatic, which on the surface appears to be the exact opposite of Rudolf, however Buddy notes that she is confident he can do anything he can put his mind to. Both Nureyevs are perfectionists and spend hours upon hours studying, preparing, and practicing.

*he managed to get a visa after 26 years of nagging the Soviet government to see his mother as she was on her deathbed in 1987, she wasn’t able to open her eyes or speak and he stayed less than ten minutes

again I am very sorry if this is incoherent, it is VERY late and i am stupid!!! i will probably clarify and add onto this later but for now lmk what u all think xoxoxo

#penumbra spoilers #tpp #the penumbra podcast #the penumbra spoilers #peter nureyev #junoverse #rudolf nureyev #this one is dedicated to my fellow nureyev kinnies #my post

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

ssw | juice ortiz ; when he can't go any deeper | m

Notes:

Okay so here's the thing.. This is a bit of a glimpse into the future / what if for a fic I'm about to start writing.. well, re-writing. Despite me knowing jack fuckall about strip clubs / exotic dancing / how to describe someone giving or getting a lapdance or pole work, I got the idea to have Hazel working two nights a week in a club, idk why.. Anyway.. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are, loves.

Also.. I'm no longer just dipping my toes in the filth pool anymore. I went all in with this, oops rip. If anyone wants me to actually write the fic I have in mind for this... Pls.. I beg.. LMK.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

kiss me up against the wall // moan my name as you come // when he can't go any deeper. - those were all the inspiration / prompts for this.

Fandom / Character:

Sons Of Anarchy / Juice Ortiz x Teller Morrow!OFC, Hazel

Fics Hazel can be found in:

None..Yet.

** the one I've used her in is being discontinued to do a rewrite.**

Warnings:

No minors, full stop. There is NSFW / adult content ahead. If you're underage, this was not meant for you -nor should you be reading this. If you choose to stick around after my warnings, this is strictly a you thing and it's not my problem or fault.

If you choose to go on and read this, these are the things present you need to be aware of: stripper!ofc - I admit.. I really am not too sure on how strip clubs operate, so.. if I'm wrong, sorry. lap dancing. thigh riding. body fluids tw. unprotected sex. That's pretty much it.

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@sassymox

@twistnet

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. | FANDOMS I WRITE FOR]

I swear I wanted to melt into the floor when I happened to glance out in the crowd and see Juice Ortiz sitting in the back with his eyes glued to the stage. I froze where I stood behind the curtain peering out and for a good five seconds, I heavily contemplated just bolting out the back door of the club.

But if I did that, I’d be out of the killer tips I’ve been told I could get dancing at this place. I wouldn’t have an outlet to express myself freely, either.

,, I had to know this would happen sooner or later. Charming is a small town and the guys from Samcro do come to this club. Even taking the audition and showing up tonight was me, taking a huge risk… So I had to know this would’ve happened at some point if I actually get the gig.” the thought came and I took three deep breaths. The hope was that I’d center myself.

Spoiler alert… it did not happen.

But I did catch sight of a brunette wig. And I convinced myself that between the wig and the dim lighting and the fact that Juice was so far away from the front of the club where I’d be dancing on the stage, he wouldn’t figure it out.

I’d just finished putting on the wig when the club owner cleared his throat and nodded to the curtains in front of me. “You’re up, kid. Do this right and Tuesdays and Thursdays are yours. Fuck it up and you can forget ever getting a chance to try again.”

I scoffed at him for a second or two but he stared me down, humorless.

My favorite Motley Crue song began to play and I stepped through the curtain. Out onto the stage and just as I did, I happened to see that prick AJ Weston and the guy who bought one of the shops downtown making their way to the table right in front of me.

My stomach dropped.

Those cold and emotionless eyes locked on me and he smirked. Nodding to me and leaning in to the shop owner. His best buddy or whatever. I don’t try and keep up with whose pissed off my father day by day, so I didn’t exactly know names.

All I did know was that for whatever reason, my mother’s scared to death of AJ Weston. She thinks she hides it, but she doesn’t. And my mother is not a woman who scares easily.

Suddenly, my biggest worry wasn’t Juice sitting in the back of the club anymore. It was the prick sitting right in front of the stage. I strutted out on the stage, not bothering to make eye contact with AJ Weston, no matter how hard I could feel him staring at me, willing me to do so. I tore off the cropped leather jacket I wore over my favorite red lace bra and after twirling it in the air a time or two, I tossed it onto the stage, hitting the floor. Writhing. Arching my back and crawling around, whipping my hair around to the song playing. I kept away from the center of the stage because I did not want to lock eyes with AJ Weston. I literally had zero desire.

The crowd was starting to get into it. I started to feel that rush like I used to feel when I danced in Las Vegas. I completely forgot about AJ Weston, thankfully. And what started off as a bumpy dance got smoother. Even more so when I found myself searching the crowd. Finding Juice in the back and locking eyes with him. That seemed to cut out a lot of my nervousness.

My hands drifted down my body, and I caught myself pretending they weren’t my hands but Juice’s. Just the thought of him feeling me up, his hands pinning my hands over my head. Pressing into me. The way he’d feel strained against those baggy jeans when he bucked against me in the heat of the moment. I used my dirty mind to fuel the dance. Letting my hands wander down to the waistband of my leather pants, working them down.

The crowd was really getting vocal now. They usually do when the clothing starts to actually come off. My stomach fluttered nervously when I locked eyes with Juice in the back of the club and I actually saw the way what I was doing on stage was affecting him.

He sat up a little straighter in his seat. Spread his legs a little. Squirming around. He nursed a glass of whiskey and his eyes wandered up and down my body slowly. When I hit the floor and started to writhe around, my back arching and my ass up in the air, he bit his lip. Watching intently. Rubbing his chin in thought.

Out towards the front of the club, right in front of me, I heard AJ swearing. Laughing out loud. I wanted to strangle the asshole, especially when he really got started with all his stupid filthy commentary as if he were mocking me, as if he were somehow better than this place even though he was willingly sitting here, of his own volition… But I went back to blocking him out. Focusing all my attention on Juice all over again instead.

Imagining what I’d do if I truly had half the nerve. What I’d let him do to me if I weren’t so damn afraid of falling in love with a Samcro man.

Because if I were going to love one, I’d choose him. Hands down. If I were ever to settle, I’d want to settle with Juice Ortiz.

My song was nearing an end. My dance was slowing down. I made my way up the pole again, grinding it as I inched up it. Slowly. Seductively as I could... Eyes locked on Juice the entire time as I flipped myself upside down and started to wind around the pole, spinning slowly with my arm outstretched as the other arm gripped the pole to hold myself. And just before the official end of my song, I dropped to the ground, crawling away from the pole. Towards the front of the stage, bolder. Getting closer in the hopes I could at least get a little better look at Juice’s face because I was dying to see the expression on it right now.

I smirked in his direction and gave a teasing wink as I pulled myself off the floor and slunk towards the red velvet curtain separating the back of the club from the front.

“Stormy Knight, ladies and gentlemen. If anyone wants the VIP experience, find Vinnie.” the announcer called out over the rowdy crowd. I was just about to reach for the doorknob on the door that lead into the dressing room when a throat cleared behind me.

“Not bad, kid. If you can bring that every single Tuesday and Thursday, gigs yours.” the club owner was standing there, smirking. He almost looked like he felt bad for doubting me in the first place. He added casually, “Had three guys come to me about VIP dances. I usually leave all that to my girls to work out. That’s extra dough in your pocket, makes no difference to me. I know half of ya have extra mouths to feed.”

I eyed him, my mouth falling open.

“Three guys? Like.. altogether?”

“No, no.. Two were together. One was by himself. Belonged to one of the MCs. Just do me a favor and at least attempt to obey club rules, kid. Don’t go gettin knocked up on the clock.” the man laughed and I took a deep breath.

At best, I figured that the biker in question was probably one of the Mayans I’d seen sitting towards the middle of the club.

I was pretty damn sure I knew exactly who the two men were and after mulling it over because it seemed as if my new boss was awaiting a decision from me, I decided I wanted no part of the risk of having to give AJ Weston and his slimy friend a private show.

“I’ll take the biker tonight, man. I’m not feelin up to a three way.”

The owner nodded and mused thoughtfully, “Good idea, kid.. That one guy out of the two of ‘em looked like his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor. I’ll go get your biker and bring him back. You got room 3. That was Gina’s old room.” before walking away, disappearing out into the front of the club again.

“Please god… at least let it be the J.D Pardo look alike if it’s one of the Mayans.” I muttered to myself, not daring to get my hopes up that it’d be Juice.

A throat cleared from behind me. I nearly shit myself when I heard Tig Trager mumble with a laugh, “Okay Ortiz. Go get your girl.” before walking away. I did not dare turn around until I knew Tig was long gone.

“Stormy, huh? That’s one hell of a name, baby girl.” he mused aloud.

I turned around slowly. Found myself body to body with him. He was staring down at me intently, licking his lips. Chuckling as he shook his head and leaned in a little closer to whisper, “Does daddy know you dance, Hazelynn? Because if he’d been here… Seen all that…” he fanned himself and gave me a teasing smirk.

My mouth dropped open.

“How? How’d you know?” I stammered out.

“I saw your car parked outside… Life pro tip, princess.. If you wanna keep this a secret, I’d suggest parking around back. Or catching a ride. Because your car? Kind of hard to forget.” Juice’s hand settled on my hip and he pulled me just a little closer. His eyes dipped down, settling on my lips, a quiet groan coming when his intent stare made me lick my lips and fidget a little.. Melting against him a little before I could stop myself from doing it. Giving a sheepish laugh as I glanced up at him.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Relax.” he chuckled. He must have felt how tense my body was as I pressed against him. I let out a shaky breath. Parts of me wanted to ask the logical question, if he came here a lot, but also, at the same time parts of me definitely didn’t want to know. Those parts of me knew that if I did ask and he said he did, I’d get just a little jealous. Because it already happened whenever I’d see him at the bar and he’d have Croweaters flocking to him.

“Guess I owe you a VIP.” I teased gently, nodding towards the door with the gold star and the black number 3 painted on it. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand, starting to lead him in the direction of the room.

“If you don’t wanna do this…” Juice frowned slightly and acted like he was going to walk away, but I stopped him. Made him look at me.

“It’s fine. It’s part of the job.” I gave him a reassuring smile as I opened the door to the room, stepping inside. Letting him step inside.

He closed the door behind him and we found ourselves body to body all over again. He muttered quietly, “Confession… I saw that Weston asshole and his idiot friend talking to the owner about a VIP dance with you so I went over and offered more money.”

Between the goofy little shit eating grin he gave me as he said it and the fact that he did that because he knows the guy creeps me right the fuck out, I was blown away. Before I could stop myself, I rose to tiptoe, gently pressing my lips against the corner of his mouth. “You’re an actual angel come to Earth, sir. You have definitely earned that dance.” I muttered softly as I pulled back to look up at him.

He bit his lip and my eyes followed the movement helplessly.

If I thought I was making myself wet on stage with my own dirty imagination, it was nothing compared to how wet I got when I locked eyes with him and realized that he was fully aware that I’d been staring at his mouth like a proper idiot.

I stepped close to him again and placed my palm on the front of his cutte, gently shoving him so that he settled in the chair right behind him.

Right away, his hands went to my hips. I lowered my hands, pushing his hands back down as I shook my head. “No touching. Club rules, Juice.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” he gave an awkward laugh and I giggled softly. Sinking down into his lap slowly.

Maybe I was slightly exaggerating out in the hallway when I told him I could do this and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. The second I settled in his lap and started to grind against it, I could feel myself dripping just a little more. I rose up slightly and he sucked in a breath. His knuckles went white with the way he was gripping the arms of the chair. His eyes were absolutely glued to me and I smirked. Teasing a little. Acting as if I’d take off the cropped leather jacket over my bra only to pull it back up.

The third time I did this, he growled quietly. Bucked himself against me. When I whimpered and grinded myself down harder against his lap, he muttered in a heated whisper, “You feel what you’re doing to me right now, baby girl?”

Oh. I felt it alright. The way he strained at his jeans, cock still twitching and growing harder and harder. The little friction I was allowing myself wasn’t enough. My cunt was throbbing and I was getting so wet that I was pretty sure when I finished giving him his lapdance the poor guy was going to have a wet spot on his jeans.

“Mhm.” I answered in a daze, leaning in so that my lips brushed against the shell of his ear and my tits rubbed right against him. He whimpered and bucked into me all over again and when I slipped out of his lap, he frowned. I hit my knees, parting his legs. Staring up at him from where I kneeled on the floor and he shifted in his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tighter when I started to rise up. Swaying my hips side to side. Leaning in. Rubbing against him as much as I could get away with. Oh, I was definitely using this little VIP dance he paid for as an excuse to do as much touching and teasing as I thought I could get away with.

All those urges to touch him I normally kept at bay were finally being allowed free reign and it felt so good.

I settled on his lap again. He let out a long and shaky breath and we locked eyes. He was staring at me like he wanted to ask me something or he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“What’s up?” I asked quietly.

“Nothin, it’s nothin.” he said it quickly. Too quick. I gripped his cutte and pulled him in closer. My mouth inching dangerously close to his as I muttered against it, “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me. I can handle it.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” he muttered. After a second or two of staring at his lap, he looked up at me again and asked quietly, “Did you wanna dance for me?”

“I got the owner to come get you, didn’t I?” my heart was beating faster. I thought it’d jump right out of my chest. I did my best to play as cool and casual as I could but every single part of me wanted to tell him that dancing was not all I wanted to do for him.

“I know that… what I mean is.. Forget it.” he went quiet. Looked down again and I gripped his jaw, making him look up at my face. “Eyes up here, Ortiz.” I teased gently, my smile falling away when I saw the serious and somber look in his eyes. I scooted away a little, an attempt to give him some space. Settling myself over his thigh instead of fully positioned on his lap as I had been.

“Talk to me.” the words left my mouth in a whimper as I pressed myself right against his thigh, rocking my throbbing sex back and forth over it. Getting wetter and wetter with each second that passed. And the ache. Oh god, the ache. I was on the brink of frustrated tears. And I couldn’t break down, I couldn’t act anything less than totally professional, because this was my night job and I was on the clock but God.. did I ever want to.

He spread his legs wider and took a deep breath. Trying not to touch me, but I could tell with the way he kept raising his hands only to put them back down on the arm rests of the velvet covered chair he sat in that he wanted nothing more than to do that very thing.

And the thought of those hands on me had me flooded in a split second. If there was any doubt before that I’d leave a wet spot behind on his jeans at the end of this dance, there wasn’t going to be by the time it was over.

Anticipation and desire had my stomach coiled tightly. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to pick up with this back home… Behind closed doors. Just him and I.

But I knew that tonight was most likely just going to be an awkward little secret. Kept between two friends. And it bothered me, because I wanted so much more than that but I was afraid to cross lines and let myself have that… I doubted it was even an option anyway because I just didn’t think Juice even saw me like that.

Sure, we flirted now and then, but nothing ever came of it.

God, did I want it to.

This heavy tension seemed to settle in all around us and I picked up on it. Juice groaned quietly, and after he nearly broke the no touch rule again and very nearly reached out to grab hold of my ass and rock me against his thigh faster, I leaned in.. Pressed against him as I continued to grind against his leg and muttered against his ear, “Most guys put their arms behind their head… Til they’re used to not being allowed to touch.. They get verbal too…” my words hitching in my throat, rushing out over each other breathlessly.

He raised his hands, locking them behind his head. Sprawling back against the chair. It seemed to help ease the tension built in his body too, because I felt him sort of melting into the chair a little and I smiled.

“C’mon.. Tell me what you want me to do.” I coaxed, fixing my eyes on him and biting my lip when I immediately found myself getting sucked far too deep into his gaze.

“Touch yourself.” he muttered. Raising up a little. Leaning forward. “Touch yourself for me, baby girl… Like you were when you were dancin out front.”

I let my hands wander.

They were shaking slightly and I just hoped to God that it wasn’t noticed.

Juice took a few shaky breaths and bucked a little in the seat. “Come closer.. Get on my lap.”

I moved so that I was straddling his lap and the way his cock strained against his jeans and I tried to stop myself, but as I started to rock myself back and forth over it, I whimpered quietly. My breath caught in my throat a time or two and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to beat out of my chest.

“I normally don’t buy dances if I come here.” he muttered quietly, shattering through my own current internal struggle.

Knowing this relaxed me a little. It was obvious he didn’t just going off the way he acted, but.. I still wondered. Some guys like to pretend it’s their first lap dance because it gets them going.

I’m not here to judge anyone.

I mean.. I have a good paying day job as a legal assistant and here I am.. Dancing two nights a week whenever I can find a club to take me just so I have some form of release.. Just so I can feel intimacy that for whatever reason, I tend to deny myself in reality.

I almost asked him why, but I remembered what he told me out in the hallway about outbidding AJ because he knew the guy scared me. And I stopped myself, even though parts of me hoped there was more to it than that.

My hands moved over my chest and I rocked myself over him faster. My breath catching in my throat as I felt myself rushing straight into an orgasm I’d been trying like hell to hold back the whole time we’d been in the VIP room.

I could feel my body burning up under his gaze and he leaned in again. Muttered breathlessly against my ear, “If you’re nervous..”

“It’s fine.” I pretended to brush it off. I acted as chill about doing this for him as I possibly could.

“Turn away.. I wanna watch you movin from behind, baby girl.” he muttered. The request caught me by surprise a little, but I kind of realized that he was doing it more for me than for himself.

I did what he asked, turning in his lap so that I faced away. My eyes caught his in the reflection of the mirrored wall in front of us. As I started to rock my ass over his bulge, he growled quietly. Bucking himself up into me. Biting his lip as he did it three more times. Muttered in a lust filled daze “Fuck yeah, baby girl.. Work that ass.”

Just the way he said it had me dripping all over again.

“Faster.” he panted, bucking himself up into me all over again. Harder.

I tried not to, but I found myself imagining that he was taking me from behind. A fist full of my hair and my tits pressed right against the mirrored wall in front of us. And I rocked myself back and forth over his cock, pressing down even harder. Moving even faster. Almost close to a blinding orgasm.

“Fuck.” I swore quietly.

Juice sat up in the chair. Pressing his chest into my back. Muttering against my ear, “ Did you wanna dance for me like this?”

“Juice, I told you already.” my head fell back and my eyes fluttered open and shut. I squeezed my tits and rolled my hips faster. My breath came in short pants because I was so close to an orgasm that I was throbbing. He was leaning in again to whisper. “What I mean is if this wasn’t your job.. And it was just me and you… Would you wanna..” he rocked himself against me all over again. Harder. With more urgency as he swore under his breath and muttered that if I kept it up, he was going to come all over himself.

“ Turn around facin me.” he panted, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a shiver rushing through me. I turned back around in his lap to face him. Raising up a little. Teasing him by putting my tits at level with his mouth. Squeezing them together before lowering my hand. Toying with the waistband of my leather pants. Teasing him like I’d take them off.

“ Tease.” he pouted up at me.

“ That’s kind of what you’re paying me for right now, Juice.” I gave a soft laugh as I tucked a finger beneath his chin. Pulling his mouth dangerously close to mine. He licked his lips in anticipation and when he did, his tongue brushed right against my mouth. I whimpered helplessly.

And I just barely kept myself from exploding.

“You’re tensin up on me, Haze… Somethin wrong?” Juice asked quietly.

Looking at me as if he were bracing himself for something bad to be said.

By this point, I was so caught up in the moment, in the way it felt to grind myself against his cock and get out all these long denied urges to touch him to my hearts content.. It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Honestly? I’m a breath away from coming and this never.. Ever… happens to me when I’m givin a private dance.” my words came in a breathless rush and as soon as I realized what I’d just said, I lost my groove for a second or two. Slowing down. Trying to pull myself together.

Hoping to God that I didn’t just make things awkward for him and I in the future because I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.

His mouth opened and closed and his hands gripped the arm rests again. Tighter.

“Do you know how hard it is for me? Feelin you dancin on my cock like this? Knowin I.. Knowin that this is probably as close as I’m ever gonna get? Fuck… If I were ever lucky enough to have you all to myself, baby girl...”

His words caught me by surprise. My heart fluttered a little and I swallowed hard. Going still in his lap just to stare at him.

The lights getting brighter and the music in the room going quiet had both of us jumping apart. I realized that probably meant my time in the room was done and before I could give myself a chance to back out, I slipped off his lap and held out my hand to him.

“ C’mon.”

He eyed my hand and took hold of it, standing. I practically drug him out of the room and then down the hall. Out the door and into the back lot behind the club. Once the door was shut behind us, I started to pace in front of him. Just trying to put it all together.

Torn between continuing to fight what I felt for him and caving in.

When he stepped in front of me and placed his hands on my upper arms, staring down into my eyes intently, something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I had his back pressed against the door of the building. My hands caught his, holding them over his head as I rose up slightly and crashed my mouth against his mouth.

Devouring. Hungry.

At first, he didn’t really react. But when the shock cleared and he realized what I was doing, he came alive. I melted against him and he growled into my mouth, deepening the kiss. Teeth latching onto my bottom lip and tugging until I felt it starting to bruise. I let his hands go and they were all over me. Settling on my ass. Rocking me up against him and making me whimper and dig my fingers into his shoulders. I couldn’t melt into him any more if I tried. I was so exhausted from trying to hold back in more ways than one at this point that my filter was totally shot. I rocked myself against him clumsily, a begging and needy whine filling the space between our mouths as the kiss broke when I just couldn’t hold it back.

“Do you know why I almost got off giving you a lap dance? Do you know what you do to me, Juice? I.. I tried so hard not to fall for you and yet.. Here I am.”

He blinked in shock. For a few seconds we stared at each other, panting for our next breath. Neither of us saying a word.

Then he bent and scooped me up. Started to carry me towards the end of the alley where he’d parked his Dyna Glide.

I didn’t do or say anything to try to stop him. I didn’t want to.

I’m so tired of keeping him at arms length. I’m tired of fighting the way I feel.

He sat me on the back of his bike and I grabbed hold of the front of his vest, pulling him down. Pulling his mouth down against mine all over again because I just.. I was needy. I craved him on this level I couldn’t even begin to get my head around.

His bike came to a stop in front of his apartment building and he got off. Scooping me up all over again. Stopping just outside the doors leading into the building to grope and kiss me. Letting his lips stray down the side of my neck. Sucking a mark deep into my skin. I clung to him and begged breathlessly, “Juice, please..”

Neither of us was really stopping to think. I didn’t want to.

I wanted him.

More importantly, I wanted to be with him. And tonight just proved to me that I couldn’t fight it anymore.

The whole time he was trying to unlock his apartment door, he kept fumbling with the keys. Rutting right against me. Stopping to kiss or touch me. When he finally got it unlocked, he stepped through the door and stepped over to the couch. Tossing me down onto it gently. Following close behind. Pressing himself down into me and snapping his hips against mine, making me whimper. My whimper echoing off the walls of the quiet room. I reached down between us, tugging at the hem of his white t shirt and he rose up, pulling off his vest and tossing it at a chair nearby. Then pulling his shirt off and tossing it too. It settled on the floor in front of the chair. Then he was pulling me up. Tearing my bra away and tossing it out into the room. My hands lowered, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and he bit his lip. Gazing at me for a second or two with this look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Savoring the moment and what was about to happen.

Because it’s been building for a while, apparently. I just focused so damn hard on keeping myself from caving in and letting myself have what I wanted, with him, that somehow, I missed all the signs.

“Baby, c’mon.” I begged.

The term of endearment slipped out.

He gave me that little smirk. Rubbed his chin in thought as he let his eyes wander.

He worked his way down my body, using his body to part my legs. He worked my leather pants down my legs and I kicked them free at my ankles.

His fingers caught in the thin strap of my panties and they came away with a quiet tear. I tried to get him out of his pants again and he lowered my hands. Slipping off the sofa. I watched intently as he teased me, pouting about it. Begging.

I needed him buried inside me. Fucking me. Slow. Deep. All night long.

His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked off his boots and then kicked his pants free from his legs. When he dropped his boxers, I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on the way his cock stood at attention once it was free from fabric. He was pressing himself down into me all over again.

His mouth roaming over my tits. Tongue teasing my nipples as my back arched away from the sofa and I rocked myself against him. His free hand settled between us, circling his thick cock. Teasing it between my folds and making me shiver and cling to him. Try to rock myself against him urgently.

And then he buried his cock inside me. Shallow at first. Going still to let me adjust to him. I felt like I was being split in two and the feeling had me whining. Nipping at his chest, at any patch of skin I could get my mouth on just so I could muffle the way I wanted to scream his name at the top of my lungs.

I rocked into him clumsily and he growled quietly. His hands going down to my hips. Holding them still as he started to pound me harder. Deeper. So deep he couldn’t go any deeper. When he bottomed out, I dragged my nails down his back.

“Not yet, baby girl. C’mon, hold out just a little longer for me.” Juice coaxed breathlessly as his hips crashed against me with a bruising pace. I begged for release, on the verge of tears. The more I begged, the more he’d slow down. Stop to kiss me or leave marks on me. Torture.

Slow, steady and deep torture.

“You gonna moan my name when you cum?” he questioned, slamming his cock deep into my womb. Going still and capturing my mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. “ God. You’re so.” he panted, snapping his hips against mine, cock pistoning in and out of me with steady deep thrusts, “So fuckin wet I can barely stay in. Fuck. Shit. Shiiiit, baby girl. I wanna cum so bad.”

“Juice! Ah, -ah fuck. Right there.” my back arched away from the couch and my orgasm ripped through me, leaving me weak and dazed, clinging to him as I tried desperately to keep up with his pace, spent. Dripping. My walls vising his cock and clenched around it. Tears flooding my eyes because holy fuck, all I’ve wanted for the entire time was to finally be allowed to let go.

Juice stared down at me from above, a soft gaze. He caught a tear as it made a black trail down my cheek. Chuckling quietly. Going still to pepper kisses soft against my mouth and then trail them down the front of my throat. When he started to move again, he muttered against my lips softly, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m right here.” as he pistoned in and out, the wet sloshing sounds accompanying each thrust he made seeming to make him move just a little faster. His hands were all over me and all I could really do was lie there, pinned beneath him. Whimpering his name as I tried to come down from the high. Stare up at him softly as my mind spun, replaying every single thing that led us here, to this exact moment.

“Oh fuck. Fuck baby girl. You want it?” his hips stammered, smashing against mine in a bruising pace and his words were swallowed by another hungry kiss and I nodded. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he did. Striking against my throbbing g-spot a time or two and growling, biting. Locking his lips against my neck and sucking yet another big,deep mark into soft flesh. The warmth of his release flooded me, making me whimper. Overfilling me, because I could feel the excess slowly leak down. Puddle beneath me on the sofa.. I bucked my hips against him greedily trying to take it all because I wanted it. I needed it. I craved him so badly I couldn’t have put it to words if I tried. He leaned into me heavily, panting for his next breath. Spent. A fine sheen of sweat gathered on our bodies. I grabbed hold of his face and pulled his mouth against mine. Our foreheads pressed together and he muttered quietly, “Mine?”

“Yours.” it shocked me when the word bubbled out. It shocked me because a, I was saying it and b, I meant it. With everything in me. As soon as I said it, he gave me a soft and lazy grin. Pressing his lips to my forehead. He collapsed onto the couch settling behind me. Pulling me on top of him.

Quiet little soft kisses. Caressing my face as he stared up at me and caught sight of one of the bigger marks he left on my throat, grimacing as he chuckled about it quietly.

“Fuck me. Baby, that was amazing...” I groaned out in a daze, making him laugh and gaze up at me. “Give me an hour, babe.” he teased…

“Careful. I might take you up on that.” I teased back, melting against his body. Letting his arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

#juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz oneshot #juice ortiz imagines #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz one shot #juice ortiz sm*t #my writing ; juice ortiz #my fanfiction ; juice ortiz #my fanfics ; juice ortiz #// absolutely no one (0) under 18+ allowed. Minors DNI.#// ns*w content #// s*xual content #// body fluids tw #// unprotected s*x tw

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