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sapphicforsarahh · 2 months

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best hands i've ever seen

ship: loubbie x fem!reader

word count: 800+

warnings: dom!loubbie x sub!reader, no smut (yet), dom and sub themes, sexting

synopsis: debbie and lou are looking for a new crew mate for the newest heist plan, that's when you catch their eye.

A/N: let me know what you think of this and whether you'd like a second part!

"Deb, I'm telling you, this girl has some of the best hands I've seen," she whispers to her wife. Both of them watch as you perform magic tricks to people who are stupid enough to fall for them. "Look, watch this," Lou leans forwards from her chair and watches you attentively. Your hands cleverly moved to show the participants correct cards. As they looked at their friends in shock and awe, you confidently slip the gold engagement ring, decorated with a diamond, off this woman's finger and secretively slip it into your pocket, without a single one of them realising.

"Not too bad," Debbie agrees and Lou smirks in return. "A pretty girl too," Lou adds, Debbie hums in agreement. After the bystanders had walked off, it was just you left with Debbie and Lou in the distance. "What do you say Deb?", Lou tries to convince Debbie to consider you, knowing their could be other benefits of having you on the team. "Sure," Debbie says a bit more easily than Lou would've thought. Without another word, Debbie stands up, Lou quick to follow her and the couple begin to approach you.

You're sitting on your bucket, counting your previously 'earned' dollars when you hear an Australian voice grab your attention. "Hey, can I hel-", you look up to see the older couple. Jesus, were they beautiful. All the thoughts in your head disappeared and you somehow managed to mumble out, "is there anything I can do for you ladies?". Debbie chuckles out, "we've got a charmer here."

One of the women stood with a dark, grey trench coat that pretty much hid her entirely black outfit, but still managed for her stiletto heels to stick out. The other, a blonde, stood taller with a sophisticated yet sexy leopard print coat. The dark, green lapels of her blazer were peeking through and you noticed her chest and hands were complimented by stacks of jewellery, most likely 24 carat gold.

"Me and my wife here noticed how skillful you are with your hands," Debbie started, taking off her shades and looking down at you with alluring deep, brown eyes. "We were wondering, if you could help us with something?" Lou added, also taking off her sunglasses, her eyes juxtaposed with her wife, as she met your gaze with light, blue ones.

You clear your throat with anxiousness, wondering what these women had proposed to you. "Uh, what is it?", you finally plucked up the courage to ask. "Come with us sweetheart, we'll explain everything," Lou said, placing her fingertips on your chin, making the power dynamic even greater.

You nod obediently, not wanting to upset these clearly powerful women. Debbie and Lou stand to the side whilst they watch you collect your things. "She's obedient isn't she," Lou chuckled, grabbing onto the lower of her wife's back. "Always a good thing, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Debbie looks at her wife with a raised brow, knowing her full intentions with this girl. As Lou was going to answer, you walked over with your bag on your back and ready to follow these women to wherever they were taking you.

"Let's get going, I bet you're eager to find out what we want, aren't you sweet girl?", Lou teases, walking forward and placing her hand on your back. "Yeah," you managed to squeak out, before the the two women pushed you into the taxi. Debbie sat in the front, whilst Lou got in the back with you. You tried to distract yourself by looking outside the window but you just couldn't concentrate on anything else apart from the insanely good-looking blonde next to you. Finally, you decide to stare at your feet and choose that as the safest option. The sound of Lou's ruffling coat caught your attention but you didn't look up. She took her phone from her pocket and looked at the notification from Debbie.

| Debbie: finish what you were going to say earlier love x.

You silently watch Lou smirk and quickly text back:

| Lou: i was going to say she’d be a good toy x.

she listened to every word we said without questioning it, we could break her in no time x.

Your eyes widened in shock at how these two women were talking about you. I mean would you really want that? Maybe you would!

| Debbie: good call baby, we'll discuss when we're back home x speaking of, i need you to take care of me once we're back i need you so badly honey x

You really try hard to hold back any reaction to the obvious sexting that's occurring in the back of this taxi, and it must've worked because all you hear is a small groan from Lou before she put her phone away.

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Taglist: @mllkw33ds @isle-of-earle @chillinftladygaga @cordeliaswife @angelick1sses @gmtsu @thenazwife @ladysc @midnightlove30 @blanchettlovebot

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

#fanfic #lgbt #gay #cateblanchett #cate blanchett #oceans8 #lou miller #lesbian #oceans 8 #lou miller x reader #debbie ocean #debbieocean #loubbie #loubbiexreader #loubbie x reader

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xanadamn · 3 years

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microdosing on talking about my feelings by writing fanfiction

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rainguk · 3 years

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perfect pitch | ksj

⁕ summary; your stand partner this year is, to put it simply, insufferable. with a rare sense of perfect pitch and a stunning face to boot, this boy's ego is absolutely off the charts... but you'd be lying if you said you didn't care about him anyway.

⁕ pairing; seokjin x reader

⁕ rating; pg-13

⁕ words; 3.9k

⁕ genre; crack, fluff - stand partners idiots to lovers (with a lil bit of enemies in there), high school au, orchestra au

⁕ warnings; swearing, threats but like nothing violent happens LOL, seokjin's sense of humor: there's like one mildly inappropriate joke (i'm sorry bach), super cliche rain scene i apologize

⁕ notes; this is based off of infuriatingly true events in my life because people with perfect pitch just LOVE flexing it like i'll drop my fork on the table and my friend's just like "oh wow that was a B flat" aaaaggghjsdjsdf anyways... i had a lot of fun writing this and i'm nearing the end of another longer fic i'm writing so please look forward to that :D hope you enjoy!!! + if you ever want me to tag you in my fics just let me know and i will <3 plus this is unedited and disgustingly cringy as it nears the end so read at your own risk

⁕ tags; @imdamconfused @sunghoonight-x @iminchaosnow

⁕ song; butter (bts)

masterlist

You’re teetering dangerously on the edge, a mere few seconds away from stabbing your stand partner in the eye with whatever you can use as a weapon.

“Hey, are you okay?” Seokjin cuts into your murderous thoughts, alarmed. “You look… truth be told, Y/N, you look like you want to kill someone.”

“If you don’t shut up about how flat my A is, that someone might just end up being you.”

“How romantic.”

Your bow slides off your violin with a cadence of squeaky notes. “Can you at least stop flirting with me while I’m trying to tune this thing?!”

He smiles, a bright, brilliant thing that shows off all his perfect teeth. You swallow, heart suddenly racing a thousand times faster; it’s no secret that Kim Seokjin is probably the biggest pain in the neck you’ve ever met, but it’s also true that he is insanely good-looking. And you’re not about to deny it.

“You like it, though.”

Well, shit.

“Not everyone’s head over heels in love with you,” you retort, trying desperately to throw him off your trail. You know what happens with popular kids like him; once it’s known that you have a soft spot for them, everyone pounces on you, bombarding you with questions and snide remarks and rumors.

Of course, it’s complicated — because how on earth could you want to rip off someone’s head and kiss them at the same time?

But you tell yourself that it’s only because he looks like that; not because he easily gets you to laugh like it’s nobody’s business, and certainly not because he looks out for you in the littlest ways; leaving his rosin out on the stand for you to use and lending you a pencil when you need one.

Kim Seokjin is an insufferable little shit, yes. But he’s a friendly insufferable little shit. And you would honestly be so down to hang out with him and get to know him better, save for one little thing that’s been getting in your way.

His perfect fucking pitch.

Being stand partners with someone naturally gifted with such a sense is both a blessing and a curse. Countless times, Seokjin has saved your ass from being questioned by Mrs. Choi by letting you know silently that you’re a little too sharp, or playing in the wrong key entirely. (That last one has happened before.) Sometimes you can’t hear Namjoon, the principal violinist, too well from where you’re seated, so you’ve relied on Seokjin on many occasions to tune your strings correctly.

However, it irks you equally as much when he uses it against you, stopping you mid-piece to let you know that your C# sounds more like a D to him. No one’s perfect, and certainly not you — but you try, and to be shot down every single time by someone who thinks it’s absolutely funny to watch you repeatedly attempt to fix your pitch issues is purely exhausting.

“Hey, Y/N—”

“What?” you demand, sighing as you turn to him.

“Wanna hear a joke?”

“No—”

“Why did Bach have twenty children?”

Your eyes widen in horror. “Oh my god—”

He continues anyway, ignoring your plea with that mischievous grin, “Because he had no organ stops!”

Seokjin is trying his best not to laugh at his own joke, shoulders shaking at the punch line. You can’t help it yourself, a giggle bursting out of your own chest as you cover your mouth.

“That was horrendous,” you tell him once you catch your breath again. “Absolutely terrible.”

“Oh, worry not,” he proclaims, smiling widely, “I can do far better.”

“Wait, no—”

“What tone does a piano falling down a mineshaft make?”

You furrow your brows, thinking. “I don’t know,” you shake your head after a few seconds. “What is it?”

“A flat minor.”

Your jaw drops open as you process it, and Seokjin just watches you in amusement. “You should be banned from making these kinds of jokes,” you tell him. “Seriously.”

“Admit it, I’m hilarious,” he counters. “I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

He did, you’ve got to acknowledge. He always does, in some way, now that you think about it. Whenever you end up coming to rehearsal in a bad mood, it’s always because of Seokjin that you leave the auditorium with a smile on your face.

The realization startles you like nothing else — you hadn’t known before that he played such a role in your daily life.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” he starts again, “We have a concert tonight.”

“Yeah…” You turn to him, eyebrow raised. “You forgot about the biggest performance of the year?”

Seokjin nods, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “Yeah. My bad. You’re coming, right?”

“Duh,” you reply, fishing a block of rosin out of your case. “It’s almost half of my grade; no way I can skip. Besides, I like performing.”

“You do?”

“What are you so surprised for?” you ask him playfully. “I do enjoy it. I might not be good — not as good as you — but I like it. I like playing together with everyone, being able to hear every other part fit in with mine perfectly.” You frown. “Now if you asked me to play solo, I wouldn’t do it for anything in the world. Ensemble performances are far better.”

“You’re good,” Seokjin says quietly, looking at you — it’s like he’s taking you in, letting his eyes linger on you for a little while longer. “Don’t think that you’re not. You sound nice, Y/N.”

You hold his gaze for several breathless seconds before scoffing, turning away. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not!”

“I don’t need empty compliments fr—”

Your bickering is cut short by Mrs. Choi walking onstage, a stack of sheet music in her hand which is promptly handed to Namjoon for him to distribute to the entire orchestra. You don’t offer your usual smile when he gives you two, and it’s with an impassive expression that you hand the extra to your stand partner.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Maybe you’ve made it more awkward between you two — but what else could have happened? Had you been hoping he’d magically fall in love with you and kiss you and you would have gone on dates?

No, of course not. This is Kim Seokjin you’re talking about; and besides, no matter how much you manage to soften up to him one moment, he’ll immediately make you want to murder him the next.

“Hey, Y/N… um — your D is just, you know, a little bit sharp—”

“Kim Seokjin, I’ll fucking kill you!”

“You, my dear, are just overcomplicating this for yourself,” Taehyung declares after listening to you rant about your problematic stand partner over lunch. “What’s the issue? You like him — don’t you shake your head at me, Y/N, you’re as obvious as an open book — and he clearly likes you. Why don’t you just date him?”

“It’s not that simple,” you grumble, brutally stabbing another piece of chicken. “I can’t just walk up to him and ask him out, Tae. Plus, he doesn’t like me, he just likes flirting with everyone he lays his eyes on.”

“From what you’re telling me, it sure does sound like it.”

“Taehyung…”

“Come on, you can’t possibly be that clueless, Y/N.”

“No,” you insist. “He’s a pain in the ass, and he enjoys getting a rise out of me, and he flexes that dumb pitch power of his whenever he can.”

“But you like him...”

“You’re not helping!”

This is where Jimin decides to intervene, tired of your back and forth arguing. “She has a point, Tae. But,” he says to you. “He’s also right. You need to take some kind of action.”

“Yeah, but what?”

Taehyung claps his hands, a telltale sign of a new idea. “Flirt back!”

“Okay, absolutely not—”

Jimin grabs you suddenly, shaking your shoulders. “Wait, think about it!” he exclaims, eyes wide. “It can work! That way you can see if he actually does like you, and you won’t publicly embarrass yourself by confessing to him, either!”

“On second thought, I’d have preferred to see the public embarrassment—”

“Shut up, Tae, you’re just making her feel worse!”

That makes you laugh; contrary to Jimin’s statement, your best friends certainly have succeeded in making you feel just a little bit better.

“Don’t worry, the feeling’s mutual,” you tease. “Maybe I owe him a dose, actually, because I’ve seen firsthand a particularly painful confession back in n—”

“Y/N! Don’t you dare bring that up!”

Amidst the chaos of Taehyung screeching while trying to attack you with a spoon and Jimin holding him back, someone taps on your shoulder lightly; a momentary distraction from this madness, if you will.

“Oh. You,” you respond when greeted with the gently smiling face of Kim Seokjin. “Did you need anything?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, instead showing you his closed fist. “Wanted to give you something.”

“If it’s another one of my strings that you’ve borrowed and also broken, then you can keep it, thanks.”

Seokjin shakes his head, chuckling. “Not that, Y/N. I always throw out the strings I break; don’t worry. I just thought you should have this.”

With that, he places a small wooden box on your lunch bag — at a closer look, you realize it’s a block of rosin. Brand new, too, by the looks of it — when you take off the bright blue lid, there are no scratches on the surface, no sign of wear and tear.

“For me?” You look at him, surprised to be met with a rather fond gaze you’re not used to. “Why?”

“Noticed the one you had was basically falling apart,” he says nonchalantly, attempting to mask the slight tremble in his voice and the blush on his cheeks. “I mean, come on — how are you gonna keep your bow in good shape with those tiny chunks of this stuff?”

“Oh,” is all you can reply, staring at the gleaming black cube in your hand. “I — thanks, I guess.”

“No problem.” He’s back to his bright, grinning self again, all self-confidence and smug smiles. “See you tomorrow,” he tells you, before waving to your friends. “Have a nice lunch, guys.”

It takes Jimin and Taehyung precisely fourteen seconds after Seokjin leaves for his own table to lose their shit.

“Was he looking out for you?”

“Did he actually just give you a new block of rosin?!”

“And you still don’t wanna date this guy?”

“You guys are violinists! Gifting each other supplies is basically your love language!”

You fidget with the rosin, smoothing your thumb over the lid. “No, that’s just how he is,” you defend. “He always lends me rosin when I need it.”

“And you always lend him extra strings,” Taehyung says, a teasing smile on his face. They’re kind of right, you realize when you think about it. Never has Seokjin actually given you a block to keep, and though you might be overestimating the significance of the gesture, it makes your heart flutter nonetheless.

“Okay, anyways,” Jimin changes the topic, “How are we feeling about tonight’s concert?”

“I think we’re in good shape,” you tell him. “We’ve got everything under control — Mrs. Choi was afraid the cellos would screw up their solo section, but they managed to pull it together today and they sounded great.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same,” Taehyung sighs. “Not when the tenors keep screwing up their long note—”

“That wasn’t me! That was Jeon Jungkook!”

“Yeah, sure—”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Come on, we are not arguing about this right now. I’m sure you guys will sound fine, you always do. Plus, Jeon has a really sweet voice.”

“I guess so,” Taehyung shrugs. “But I think the highlight of tonight is going to be Y/N getting to see her guy all dressed up,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No!” You exclaim a little too quickly, cheeks red. “Why would you say something like that?!”

“Because you’re whipped for him—”

“I am most certainly not—”

Jimin laughs out loud, almost toppling off of his chair. “You know, Y/N, we might have believed you if you weren’t redder than a fucking tomato right now—”

“PARK JIMIN! NOT YOU TOO!”

As luck would have it, you’re a solid ten minutes late.

Call time was at six o’clock, and here you are; slamming the car door shut as you wave a hasty goodbye to your father and run to the main entrance, all the while trying not to get drenched in the rain.

(Your folder and the music inside it are probably already soaked, but that’s an issue for another time.)

You hurry down the stairs, pushing the double doors open with a quick apology to Mrs. Choi, who gives you a stern look but says nothing else. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you slide into your seat, already unlatching your case.

“You’re late.”

You twist your neck to give your stand partner a blank stare. “I’m aware.”

“You look really nice,” he blurts out next, blinking faster than usual.

“Thanks?” You try and laugh it off, fastening your shoulder rest to the back of your violin. You’re not wearing anything fancy, just a flowy black dress with your hair tied back, but his remark renders you speechless for a split second “So do you.”

You manage to compliment him nonchalantly, but your heart is beating twice as fast, eyes admiring his parted, fluffy hair, the white dress shirt impeccable on his figure. And his lips…

Shit. You really are down bad, but you don’t have time to dwell on it — Mrs. Choi is starting the last piece already, and you’re scrambling to have your instrument ready by the time the first violins start with their little intro.

Seokjin laughs at you quietly, but inhales sharply when you start to rosin your bow hair. “You kept it,” he says softly, nodding at the block in your hands.

“Yeah,” you swallow, suddenly self-conscious. “I did.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

“I’m not that ungrateful,” you wrinkle your nose at him. “Of course I kept it, Seokjin.”

“Jin.”

“Huh?”

“Jin,” he repeats, flicking a strand of chestnut hair away from his eyes. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“Since when am I your friend?”

“Would you rather not be?”

“Would you rather be?”

Seokjin — Jin, rather — frowns down at you. “Stop asking questions to my questions!”

“You did it first!” you exclaim, laughing. “Hypocrite! Answer mine, then!”

He looks at you for a long moment, like he’s taking his sweet time choosing the right words to say to you. “Since now,” he decides finally, firmly. “You are now. I want you to be mine. My friend,” he clarifies, turning deep red as he says it.

“I thought you hated me,” you muse. “And I was pretty sure you thought I was the lamest kid ever because I couldn’t play a single thing right.”

“Of course not,” Jin shakes his head vehemently. “You’re cool, Y/N. A little tone deaf, but cool.”

“Take that back!”

“I’m sorry, it’s the truth,” he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners.

You send him your best glare, but contrary to your facial expression, it’s nice to laugh with him like this. You’ve been so caught up with telling yourself that you shouldn’t be feeling anything but annoyance when you’re around him that you ignored your blossoming feelings, and now they’ve fully bloomed, leaving no room for that initial irritation you so often experienced.

Friends. It’s not what you most want, but it’s something. You could get used to that.

The concert goes smoothly, and the choir performances were absolutely delightful to watch — but your father is late, again, which means you’re stuck waiting for him out in the rain that hasn’t let up for hours.

You’re about to call him for the fifth time in ten minutes when you hear a set of heavy footsteps behind you, running up the stairway. “Y/N!”

“Jin?” you ask, surprised by the boy making his way toward you, brown hair completely soaked. “What are you doing out here?”

“I lied,” he says breathlessly, like he’s in a rush, and if he doesn’t tell you now, he might never be able to. “I’m sorry, I — I lied, Y/N. I don’t want you to be my friend — God, I don’t think I could live with that. I want you to be more.”

“Jin—”

“I just,” he exhales forcefully, “I want to be able to take you out and hold your hand and hug you and kiss you—”

When your mind finally clears up, you don’t let him finish his sentence, instead grabbing his collar and yanking him down so you can press your lips to his in one swift motion. A quiet gasp leaves his mouth, but he quickly adjusts to the situation, hands dropping his violin so he can gently cradle your face, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. It’s all happening so fast that you barely even have time to think, to properly take it all in.

His lips are cold due to the nasty weather, and you’re both sopping wet — and this is most definitely the worst setting for this to have happened, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That,” Jin breathes when you finally let him go, pupils dilated, “that was—”

“My first,” you finish. Your prior courage all gone, you’re a bit nervous now, too embarrassed by your bold move to even meet his eyes. What were you thinking? “I-I’m sorry...”

“Sorry?” Jin asks, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“You know, because… of that.” You can barely speak up, cheeks burning. “I-I don’t know why I did that. Is this — is this a prank or something? Did you plan this? Was I just supposed to laugh it off and threaten to take your eye out with my bow instead?”

“No, no, no,” he shakes his head, laughing. “Can’t you tell, Y/N?” He lowers his voice to a gentle whisper. “I like you, you idiot. Ever since you waltzed into the auditorium sophomore year and nearly broke your violin falling down the stairs, I never stopped thinking about you.”

“You… you like me?” you ask incredulously, jabbing an accusatory finger at his chest. “Like, for real? You’re not just pulling my leg like you usually love to do?”

“I meant what I said, Y/N,” he tells you softly, fingers intertwined with yours. His voice is genuine, soothing. “I want to do all those things with you, if you’ll let me.”

It takes you a while to reply, but when you do, your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest that you can barely hear yourself. “A-And if I said yes?”

A wide grin breaks out onto Jin’s face as he pulls you into a hug, both your instruments forgotten on the pavement and your head resting on his chest as he holds you close. A few days ago, you would have thought yourself a fool for even thinking that a day like this would ever come; yet here you are, all those daydreams come true.

It’s all so new to you, and you’ll most likely screw up along the way — multiple times. But hand in hand with Jin and his vexing ability to pick out a B from a B flat, things aren’t looking so bad.

You’ll work it out.

Hanging out with your friends is always a chaotic (but fun) occurrence — but when you add your boyfriend’s buddies into the mix, it all goes down to shit.

Actually, it’s all his fault, if you really think about it. Why on earth did he think challenging Taehyung to a baking competition was even remotely close to being a good idea?

“That’s so not fucking fair!” the aforementioned best friend cries, angrily shaking a spatula at a playfully grinning Jung Hoseok. “You can’t just hide the bag of flour! I fucking forgot to put it in!”

“Nothing we can do about it now, Tae,” Jimin sighs, massaging his forehead as the three of you stare at the burnt, soupy mass your team has created. “We fucking lost, that’s it.”

“So,” Jin smirks mischievously, nudging your elbow. “I guess Hoseok and I win this one, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you shove him back, though you’re grinning; a plate with a slice of his impeccably made cake in your hands and a fork lifted to your lips. “You’re good at this and you know it. I knew from the start that you were just trying to fuck around with Tae.”

Taehyung scoffs. “Your evil, demonic, deceptive, satanic boyfriend—”

“Nice vocabulary,” Hoseok comments without looking up, and you’re sure he’s on your best friend’s hit list at this point.

“Well — anyways, he’s out to get me,” Taehyung continues, frowning. “I feel attacked.”

“Yeah, okay, keep saying that several years from now when you’re sitting in a church and Y/N’s walking down the aisle,” Jimin says nonchalantly, causing you to choke on your cake in complete shock.

“What the heck — we’re literally eighteen! You can’t — you can’t just say things like that!” you exclaim indignantly, fork clattering against your empty plate. Jin grins widely all of a sudden, tapping your shoulder all of a sudden.

“Jagi.”

“Hmm?” You turn to him, momentarily forgetting how flustered Jimin’s comment made you feel.

“That was a really nice C# just now…”

Your mouth drops open as you gape at your boyfriend; part of you wants to cry and part of you wants to laugh. You knew when you agreed to make it official that somewhere along the line, you’d have to deal with these kinds of things, but now that it’s actually happening…

You turn to Jimin, patience already running thin from Jin’s antics (actually, you secretly love it, though you’ll never admit it to his face.)

“And you have the audacity to suggest that I’ll actually get married to this man?”

“Y/N? Honey, wake up. I… I just realized something.”

“Oh — Jin? What is it? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s good. You know, I was thinking about it, and I realized that...” Your husband bites down on his lip hesitantly, glancing down at the baby sleeping peacefully in his arms.

“Yeah?” you press, curious.

“When Aera cries — you know, when she’s screaming at the top of her lungs,” he smiles fondly. “It’s always — she always cries in either F# or C#. It’s,” he looks like he’s nearing tears, “the D major key. Y/N, she literally cries in D major. I’m—”

You sigh, smiling amusedly to yourself as you snuggle up to him for extra warmth, holding your baby close. Leave it to none other than Kim Seokjin to analyze his daughter’s pitch — isn’t that part of the reason why you fell in love with him, anyway?

Life with Jin is many things — a chaotic mess that includes the constantly screaming light of your lives, three pandemoniac best friends, and far too many notes for you to keep track of. And though sometimes you want to chuck a blue-lidded block of rosin at his head to shut him up, you’re more than ready for it all.

— feedback/questions/just wanna chat?

thank you for reading perfect pitch! ♡

#applejinie #seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin one shot #jin x reader #jin fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts one shot #rainguk #jin high school au #bts high school au #bts orchestra au #violinist!jin

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bookloversreviewer · 5 years

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MARRIAGE FOR ONE by Ella Maise

Release Date: May 9, 2019

Cover Designer: Ella Maise

Photographer: Rafa Gallar

Model: Jason Morgan

AVAILABLE NOW!!

NOW AVAILABLE! FREE in KU!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2LxkGQQ

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2J6SCSo

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2vQ7USR

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2HagzGb

Add to Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39673950-marriage-for-one

Blurb:

Jack and I, we did everything backward. The day he lured me into his office-which was also the first day we met-he proposed. You'd think a guy who looked like him-a bit cold maybe, but still striking and very unattainable-would only ask the love of his life to marry him, right? You'd think he must be madly in love.

Nope. It was me he asked. A complete stranger who had never even heard of him. A stranger who had been dumped by her fiancé only weeks before. You'd think I'd laugh in his face, call him insane-and a few other names-then walk away as quickly as possible. Well…I did all those things except the walking away part.

It took him only minutes to talk me into a business deal…erm, I mean marriage, and only days for us to officially tie the knot. Happiest day of my life. Magical. Pop the champagne… Not. It was the worst day. Jack Hawthorne was nothing like what I'd imagined for myself.

I blamed him for my lapse in judgment. I blamed his eyes, the ocean blue eyes that looked straight into mine unapologetically, and that frown on his face I had no idea I would become so fascinated with in time.

It wasn't long after he said I was the biggest mistake of his life that things started to change. No, he still didn't talk much, but anyone can string a few words together. His actions spoke the loudest to me. And day after day my heart started to get a mind of its own.

One second he was no one. The next he became everything.

One second he was unattainable. The next he seemed to be completely mine.

One second I thought we were in love. The next it was still nothing but a lie.

After all, I was Rose and he was Jack. We were doomed from the very beginning with those names. Did you expect anything else?

Excerpt:

“I need to leave,” I repeated. Then, thinking it would simply be a good distraction, a good show for her employee and even sort of a practice for the charity event we’d be attending, I slid my arm around her waist. Her eyes were slightly widened in alarm, her entire body stiff, but at least she wasn’t jumpy like she had been at our first outing. Slowly her body relaxed, and she arched her back so she could look up at me with those big eyes.

A simple and meaningless touch would have to be acted out more naturally at one point in our fake marriage, almost as if touching her or kissing her in front of other people would become second nature. Practice was good.

“Thank you for the coffee. It’s always the best,” I murmured, having trouble looking away. Then I leaned down and hesitated for a heartbeat before I pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead as she was still looking up at me in confusion. That spot felt like it was the most harmless one and I took my time, breathing in her sweet and fresh scent. When I pulled back, one of her hands was resting against my chest, the other one clutching my arm. Her chest rising and falling, she blinked up at me.

Taking her hand that had ended up on my chest, I opened her fingers, my fingertip catching on her wedding ring. Why did such a simple and, in our situation, meaningless thing give me so much pleasure to see? She wasn’t mine, but the idea of it…the possibility… I placed the money on her still red palm before gently closing her fingers around the bill. Surprisingly, she didn’t say a word, just kept staring up at me as if she was lost. Was she just as affected as Iwas by our pretending?

“Don’t take it off, okay? I like seeing it on your finger,” I whispered.

I had already forgotten about the people around us. This wasn’t so much for them but more for me, I thought, just so I could see that soft look on her face. I cupped her cheek and leaned down enough so I could whisper in her ear. “Was that the right amount of PDA for our fake marriage? A small intimate kiss, you said, right? Arm around the waist? Bodies close, but not touching?” I lifted my head up enough so I could meet her eyes and, in a louder voice, said, “Don’t stay on your feet for too long—you’re still limping.”

She didn’t look like she was going to say anything, so I pushed a little more.

“Can you at least say goodbye to your husband?”

“Uh…I should, shouldn’t I? Goodbye?”

After wishing a good day to everyone who didn’t have the decency to mind their own business, I left.

Yes, practice was good.

About the Author:

I love nothing more than to escape real life to find those very few magical moments in a book. I love how it has the power of stealing your worries away, putting a smile on your face even when smiling is the last thing on your mind. Crushing on fictional characters is also another bonus. Through my words, if I can manage to make even one person smile, it means I’ve done my job well.

Writing became my world and I can’t imagine myself doing anything other than creating new characters and telling their stories. You know how some things simply make your heart burst with happiness? A really good book, a puppy, hugging someone you’ve been missing like crazy? That’s what writing does to me. And all the hard work, all the sleepless nights, all the anxiety that comes with publishing…everything is worth it at the end.

Connect with Ella:

Website: https://ellamaise.com/

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