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mayyoualways · 3 years ago

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Eternals Character Analysis Part II

Spoilers after the break about Kingo, Phastos, Gilgamesh, Thena, Makkari, and Druig.

Kingo – Something that felt off to me on first watch was Kingo’s reaction after he was told that Ajak was dead, the deviants are targeting Eternals, something’s happening to earth, and they need to find the others. He was shocked and sad about the Ajak part. Yet despite being told the rest, he hesitated to go and had to be given a lil pep talk, because he was concerned about the movie. And then he’s making a documentary throughout the whole thing. After the second watch, it clicked for me. Kingo cares, but not about this shit. First of all, I already talked about him disregarding Sersi as a leader, so his reaction may have been influenced by the fact that Sersi delivered the news to him and was the one leading the conversation. I don’t think it’s sexism or anything. I just think leader is just not how he’s known Sersei for thousands of years, whereas that is how he’s known and interacted with Ikaris. Second, the stuff about something happening to the earth and the Deviants evolving wasn’t coming from Arishem. Again, it was Sersi.

Third but most important, like Arishem, Kingo cares about the bigger picture. His reaction in the studio is a teaser to the stance that he will later voice. Earth has had billions of years to thrive. Billions of years of life in one form or another, and humans have had millions of years. Why shouldn’t another planet get the same opportunity? What gives Earth the right to be the main character? When Sersi told everyone the truth, including the part where they’re there to ensure earth’s demise, the first words out of Kingo’s mouth is, “So we’re fancy robots?”

I want to specify that I do not believe that that’s Ikaris’ stance. I talked about his motivation in Part I. I don’t think he’s invested in the philosophical, moral, the-few-for-the-many aspect of it. Ikaris is about the mission, the mandate, the existential purpose.

Despite, believing in Arishem’s grand design, though, Kingo won’t fight for it. He prioritizes his family above it all. You don’t raise your hand against your family, so he’s not going to fight Sersi’s side. He’s not going to fight Ikaris’ side. One side will win. If it’s Ikaris, he’ll see them all on the other side. If it’s Sersi, that’s still the majority of his family who won.

Let him know how it turns out. He’ll be chilling in the cut.

Phastos – Look, I was disgusted with humanity when White people and racist law enforcement were killing Black people and vilifying their supporters in the middle of a pandemic. Like, a pandemic was happening, and racists and their sympathizers were refusing to take a break. The talking points from the pandemic deniers also made me disgusted with humanity. So I felt Phastos on a deep level when he decided that humans weren’t worth saving.

Imagine watching them take long as hell to advance. They’re so slow. It’s taking so long. You have to help them but not, like, a lot, cause you don’t want to break their brains by giving too much too soon. THEN BOOM! They drop two fucking atomic bombs on other human beings, hoping it would work like it did. From taking an hour to reload their musket to that? He was probably hanging by a thread by then, and that one did it.

His love story with Ben must be so sweet. Phastos regaining faith in humanity through is interactions with Ben? Where's the fic?

It would’ve been so easy to shaft Phastos on the fighting front. He’s the genius inventor. What good could he possibly be in a fight? But he showed out!

Sidebar: I love how so many members of the family low key and high key had beef with Ikaris. Ikaris is that family member who acts so perfect that you just want to punch them in the face. I bet he was always the first to back up Ajak. “Yes, Ajak. Right, Ajak. Okay, this is the mission, guys. This is what you did wrong guys, so let’s work on it for next time, huh?” Phastos wanted to clip his wings; Thena wanted to fight his ass for real, for real, not practice, not a drill, a real fight. Druig was ready to take it outside in Tenochtitlàn; and Gilgamesh thought he was overrated. I love it!!!

Gilgamesh – Bae. Female gaze approved. The family cook, probably. A Caretaker King. He developed a coping tool with Thena for Thena. He held her down. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to learn much about him outside of his caretaker role for Thena, so I hope we’ll get more of him in flashbacks. I noticed on second watch that this movie never found an excuse for a shirtless scene of any of the male characters (male gaze).

Thena (drop the A) – We also didn’t get to learn much about what makes her tick and what makes her churn. She loves a good fight, of course, but I’m excited to learn more about her. The visuals for her power were beautiful. Although I said that I think all the Eternals were surprised by Sersi being chosen, I think Thena may have been the only one a little not surprised. Like, she may have thought Ajak would get it wrong, but nope Ajak came through. Loved her pep talk to Sersi. Ajak chose you, girl. Stand up, straighten your spine, and lead. Also, this movie did not have any gratuitous ass shots (male gaze). Like the Dora Milaje, Thena’s tight pants were covered by a skirt. The female warriors were dressed similar to the male warriors, and none of the women were shot with the camera looking up at her ass. Way to grow, MCU. Way to go, Chloe Zhao!

Beautiful, beautiful Makkari – BAE! My GOD, she had something for that ass. The entire fight sequence against Ikaris on the beach was the most satisfying thing I’ve watched in a long time, but Makkari handing Ikaris his ass was ESPECIALLY fulfilling. Just the way they used and shot her powers was beautiful. She’s our book/tablet-reading queen. I do think the movie copped out by insinuating that she spent most of her time in the ship. Especially as the deaf member of the team, and the first deaf superhero in the MCU, it’s lame that they didn’t portray her as having found a community after going her own way. Please explore her more in the future. And you know I’m gonna say it: her thing with Druig IS SEXY AS FUCK!

Makkari’s a bit like Kingo, Ikaris, and Sprite. She wasn’t broken up about earth dying. Homegirl didn’t want to be bored, and going against a Celestial was the more exciting option. Considering she’s tight with Druig, she probably didn’t really see it for Ikaris either.

Druig – Benevolent overlord. I guess. He was on his Wanda Maximoff shit. I feel for him, having to watch humans destroy each other in all forms of horrific ways when he could put a stop to it. But then they wouldn’t be human. They’d be puppets.

This movie didn’t shy away from answering two very important questions: why didn’t they interfere with Thanos, and why didn’t they save humanity from themselves? And I think they provided answers that made sense. Above all, the Celestials are fancy robot soldiers. For a long time they all did as they were told and only as they were told. They were on a mission from Arishem that was bigger than whatever the humans were doing to each other, and they stuck with it. They answered a high power. And when you have so much power and have lived for so long, I understand developing a level of apathy. It would be sooo great for humanity to be saved from itself by an outside force. It would take accountability away from humans. But the Eternals would literally have to either conquer the world by force, or do it Druig’s way and just take over every one’s mind. Neither option is cute, and it’s also putting a lot of power in the hands of a few people that you aren’t sure will always be….the good guys.

Which finally brings me to Arishem. I love the way he was written. I’ve come to love this depiction of a Creator being. Again, apathy. The grand design is to have life. The quality doesn’t matter. How life interacts with itself doesn’t matter (harming, hurting, loving, subjugating). The fact that it exists, persists, and perpetuates more life is all that matters.

#Kingo #phastos #gilgamesh #thena #makkari #druig #eternals #the eternals #eternals movie

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ladyblogger-margie · 3 years ago

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Ohhh hi honey! Can you write me a little something with Benny Miller having a very obvious crush on his physical therapist? Sounds cute! Thank you! ❤️

Here you go! I love an enthusiastic Benny and I remember the days of crushing on my physiotherapist so I tried to write a bit of what I know! So here's something fluffy Benny Miller x F!Reader

You smirked to yourself when you saw your schedule for the day and realized Benny Miller was your last client of the day. The former military man turned boxer had been coming to see you for a few weeks now for a minor knee injury. He was a huge flirt and his presence was always a bright spot in your day thanks to a combination of his sunshine personality and stunning good looks.

Ever the professional you never gossiped about him, even when the receptionist at the physiotherapy clinic you worked at was practically salivating when she asked you if he smelled as good as he looked. He did but she didn’t have to know that.

Later in the day between appointments you sat around with another physiotherapist snacking on veggies and chit chatting. Your friend had a client earlier who, despite needing help recovering from an ankle injury, refused to properly clean their feet or clip their toenails before their appointment.

“I hear Benny Miller is coming in again tonight,” your friend said, forcing the casualty into their voice.

“You heard correctly,” you said.

“Do you find it distracting?” they asked.

You were a little offended. It was one thing for people to comment on the obvious attractiveness of your client, but it was something altogether unacceptable for them to accuse you of being unprofessional.

Your friend saw your reaction and backtracked, “Sorry, I just meant because he obviously has a crush on you.”

Your brain buffered for a moment, “A what?”

Your friend rolled their eyes, “A crush, obviously he has a crush on you. I’ve never seen a grown man literally lean so heavily on a trainer for a mild knee sprain.”

You grabbed a carrot and chewed loudly, trying to drown out the thought. It hadn’t occurred to you that he had a crush on you, you just assumed he was that way with everyone. Kind, thoughtful, funny, vulnerable, charming, the inherently Benny qualities running through your head.

“Well, it might be distracting now!” you said, suddenly nervous.

“Oops,” your friend said, making a face.

Suddenly their eyes went wide and they gestured over your shoulder. You whipped your head around to see Benny saunter into the clinic.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Benny cooed softly in your direction, his voice dripping in honey and you felt your knees weaken.

“Shit,” you whispered under your breath.

You led Benny to your physio table along the back wall and he dropped his bag casually on the chair.

Your friend gave you a wink and a nod as they left for the day, leaving you and Benny alone in the studio. You tried not to overthink the situation.

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Miller?” you asked, keeping your voice neutral.

“My knee is really bad today,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

You scrunched your face, “Really? Your scans came back from the hospital and everything looks great. Frankly I’m shocked you're here today.”

Benny’s face flushed pink slightly, “Uh, it’s, um, important that I take preventative care.”

“Hmm,” you said, “So no pain?”

“Um,” Benny paused, a bashful smile on his face, “Yes? No? Um, you better check it out.”

He sprawled out on your table and you tried not to look as the bottom of his t-shirt rode up, exposing the flesh above his waistline.

You watched his face, his eyes wide, a grin splashed across his face and it hit you, he hasn’t been injured in a while. Something else has been bringing him back every week to see you. You flushed at the thought and turned your eyes to his knee.

As long as he was going to pretend to be hurt, you were going to indulge him.

“I should probably book in for the next month worth of sessions too before I go,” Benny said, his voice a little higher than usual, his attempt to play it casual completely unsuccessful.

“Or,” you said, not able to make eye contact, “You could save some money and just take me out to dinner instead.”

He sprung up, nearly knocking your heads together, fully of wild enthusiasm.

“My knee is fine, let’s go right now,” he said. He leapt off the table and led you out the door frantically, both of you laughing and giggling all the way.

#request #benny miller x f!reader #benny miller x reader #benny miller #triple frontier #garrett hedlund

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velvetcloxds · 3 years ago

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LEAVE ME BREATHLESS| D.H.

Pairing: Derek x fem! Reader

Word count: 2135 words

Warnings: none, just fluff

Summary: Reader attends her senior prom with her friends, however she can't really enjoy it as her boyfriend Derek is in Mexico searching for Kate, luckily though, Derek is full of surprises.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Stiles asks in a rush as he comes into my room. His eyes scan the bed quickly as he sees my dress and shoes scattered onto the duvet. “We had to leave half an hour ago.” He informs me and he ignores the obvious frown on my face as he walks over to the bed to pick up the dress. I groan loudly as I wipe the rest of my makeup off, ignoring his dramatic gestures behind me.

“I’m not going, Stiles.” I tell him and he makes no trouble to hide his shock, his mouth opening to protests as he steps towards me, throwing the dress over his shoulder as he touches the back of my chair.

“I don’t understand that sentence,” He announces and spins my chair in the same breath. “I refuse to understand that sentence, considering the fact that you’re the one forcing us to go,” He pauses to drape the dress over my knees and smiles encouragingly. “Now, enough of the dramatics, get dressed.” I sigh.

“Stiles.” I groan and he ignores this, pulling me from the chair and softly pushing me into the bathroom with a stumble.

“Dress and shoes, I’ll wait out here.” He tells me and I contemplate objecting for a sweet second, but cave instead.

He’s right for pushing me to get dressed, because I did in fact force everyone to go tonight. Prom in the middle of a crises seems out of order, but it’s the last time we’ll all be here together and it’s important to make memories, even if only for one night. Besides, it's Beacon Hills, there is never not a crises at hand. Although I hadn’t realized until now that I’d be going stag among all of my couple friends. And I certainly didn’t realize that the one person I want to be here isn’t.

“There she is!” Stiles exclaims with a large smile as I emerge from the bathroom. “Shoes,” He says as he holds them out for me. I take them, lifting the layers of my dress high enough to slip the heels on and out of the corner of my eyes I can see him stuffing multiple makeup products into his blazer pocket. He smiles when he sees me. “Lydia will help you in the car.” He informs me and I have just enough time to grab my clutch and some perfume before he starts pushing me out of the room and towards the jeep.

“You look amazing.” Lydia tells me as we reach the jeep. I smile, pushing a curl behind my ear as Stiles opens the back door for us to get in.

“Yeah, you’re both gorgeous. Now get in,” He rushes and Lydia rolls her eyes before jumping in, with me following suit. “Makeup.” Stiles says as he hands us his blazer over the seat, starting the car in the same movement. I smile over at Lydia as she removes everything from the pockets, looking over at Stiles through the mirror every few seconds where his eyes already wait for hers.

It doesn’t take long for her to get going. Applying everything in the correct steps, stopping briefly when Stiles gives her the bump warning. I sit still through the process, my mind slipping away from reality as I let her do her job.

“Glossy or Nude?” Lydia asks and I realize we’ve stilled in front of the school. She holds up two lip-gloss tubes for me to choose from and I reach forward to take the glossy one, knowing it’ll be much less of a hassle to reapply. “Good choice, we’ll wait outside.” She tells me, squeezing my hand before getting out of the open door that Stiles holds on to.

“Hey man!” A new voice yells from across the parking lot and I peak out of the window to see Scott and Malia walking hand in hand towards the jeep. I smile to myself and then use my phone as a mirror to quickly put of the gloss.

“Where’s Y/n?” Malia asks just as I get out of the jeep and her face lights up when she sees we’re both wearing black.

“You look very pretty.” Scott tells me as he leans in for a quick hug and I smile before following the four of them into the school.

I swing my clutch over my shoulder and allow my fingers to tangle into the little charm on my necklace, my heart swooning over to the hands that clipped it on for me a few months ago.

The gym hums with excitement as everyone moves in somewhat of a rhythm to the song that the band is playing. The decorative balloons begging to be released from their strings to the ceiling. A large collection of different coloured lights flickering on beat against the walls.

“We’re going to dance!” Malia yells over the noise, harshly grabbing onto Scott’s hand and pulling him towards the dancefloor. Scott just smiles as he allows her to lead him away.

“Do you girls want something to drink?” Stiles asks already backing up towards the snack table and Lydia just smiles as she shakes her head to tell him no. He looks at me and I mimic Lydia’s gesture which causes him to nod quickly before walking off.

I look over at Malia and Scott who are both waving us over to join them. Lydia smiles. “You coming?” She asks leaning in. I look from her to the dancefloor and I really don’t feel like jumping around and shuffling against other people right now.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room really quick and then I’ll join you.” I tell her, leaning into her as well so she can hear me. She looks me over for a second, probably checking to see if I’m okay and then nods before walking away. I wait for her to reach them before turning around and walking to the door we just came in through. I just got here and already I feel like I need some air. I bend down to take of my heels and hold them in my hand as I walk over to the school sign, pushing myself up and placing my purse and heels next to me.

Senior prom. It’s one of those milestone nights, one to remember forever. Physically I’m ready, but my mind is far away from the glitter and the punch. My mind is with Derek Hale and so is my heart.

I reach into my purse and pull out my phone, unlocking it quickly to dial the number of the motel he’s staying at in Mexico. It rings a few times before a loud beep tells me that he’s not in his room. I sigh before adjusting myself on the wall and bringing the phone closer to my ear.

“Hi,” I say almost too softly, I pull my knees to my chest, the dress draping around me. “I missed you again. We can’t seem to get this scheduling thing right. I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess,” I smile as I look up at the stars. “I’m at our spot right now, thinking of you in a suit and a tie. You look handsome by the way,” I close my eyes to picture it, but shake my head when the image starts to drift. “Anyway. Call me back when you can. I miss you.” I put the phone down next to me as I continue to look at the starts, swallowing down the tears in my throat.

“Now, you know damn well that I don’t wear ties.”

“Derek?” I question softly, my voice shaking with excitement at the very idea of that voice in fact belonging to my goofball. He laughs lightly and now I don’t even have to think about it to know that it’s him.

I turn myself around quickly, meeting his gaze for a brief second before losing my balance and slipping from the little wall. His laughter continues as he moves to catch me, getting hold of my hand just in time to stop my untimely collide with the concrete. He pulls me against him to steady me and despite the countless times we’ve done this, I still need to catch my breath. My cheeks burn as I feel his eyes moving over my body taking his bloody time to look at every single feature.

“Beautiful.” Is all he says as our eyes meet and my lips tilt upwards as a natural reaction to his presence. I move my hands from his and carefully reach upwards to touch his face, hovering for barely a second before softly cupping his cheeks. My smile grows.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, his hands folding around my waist to keep me close.

“I missed you,,” He informs me, like it’s just that simple. “Stiles called.” He continues and I can’t decide where to rest my eyes as he speaks. “He said you weren’t acting like yourself this week and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why,” His thumbs trace the stitching of my dress. “And I wasn’t exactly doing any better on my end, so here I am.”

“I was losing my mind without you here,,” I tell him, my heart beating in my throat as he smiles down at me. He tilts his head to look at me even closer and I almost instantly look down. “When do you have to go back?” I ask after a moment of silence and I feel his body tense against mine, letting me know that it’s a lot sooner than I’d want. He sighs, his hands tugging me closer.

“Let’s not think about that,” I look up to see him grinning brightly, his eyes almost sparkling as he stares at me. “We have tonight. I can hold you in my arms and hear your voice,,” He kisses my nose, the suddenness of the gesture making me giggle. “I get to hear that intoxicating little sound,” He exhales slowly. “We have tonight.” He tells me softly and his voice drifts as he leans in, I jump away from him quickly, mischief on my mind as I back away from him.

“Would you like to dance?” I ask him and he groans loudly, eyes telling me exactly what he was about to do. I laugh softly.

“Not exactly.” He pulls a hand through his hair and a glimmer of frustration rests in his raised brow.

“Come now, it’s my prom night after all,” I take hold of both his hands. “Are they playing a slow song or a fast song?” I ask him and he shakes his head at me before closing his eyes to listen.

“Slow…” He says and I smile, part of me being glad that I don’t have to stop being so close to him after all.

“Is that so?” I muse, the tone of my voice prompting him to open his eyes and without missing a beat he pulls on my hands until I’m once again held firmly in his embrace. I giggle again, something I realize only happens so naturally when I’m with him. Our hands shift into place and I tangle my fingers together behind his neck. His arms dangling loosely as his fingers fold around my sides.

“I might just enjoy this after all,” He informs me with a silly little smirk as he guides us to a rhythm only he can hear. We sway in silence for a while, my face against his chest and his chin on my head. “I don’t know how I went on so long without you,” He says suddenly, lifting his head so I can look at him. “It’ll be downright impossible to do it now.” He tells me, bringing out bodies to a halt as he lifts a hand to my face, his fingers stroking over my cheeks slowly. I close my eyes as the sensation captivates my senses.

“I know what you mean.” I say softly, sliding my hands down his blazer where I rest my fingers against his chest.

“I love you,” He tells me and I open my eyes. He uses his thumb to lift my face, a smile filling his lips when he looks at me. “Say it back , won’t you?” He asks playfully and I smile as well, my heart swelling with pride.

“I love you, too.” I tell him and he laughs.

“Again.” He tells me, looking over me as he waits for me to say it.

“I love you too.” He laughs again, softer this time. Happier.

“Yeah…” He kisses me quickly, not nearly long enough to make up for the time we’ve been apart, but the way he looks at me leaves me breathless. He rests his forehead against mine. “I’ll never be able to leave you again.”

Hi there, more of my imagines can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubertt. Mxx.

#derekhale x reader #derek hale imagines #derek x reader #derek hale one shot #derek hale #teenwolf x reader #teen wolf

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stormblessed95 · 3 years ago

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Hello! I can't remember where but someone was saying that KM's relationship has changed, which I don't believe. We are not getting enough content for us to decide anything really so I don't know how people draw these conclusions. Anyways, they further stated that MMA 2018 was the only "big" interaction that happened between KM. I was slightly confused by this because I do remember other moments between KM on award shows (It also made me realize this person may not be a KM shipper, but a troll. Do they only focus on big moments between KM or just ships, in general? I don't know. But the way they put their opinion up with utmost certainty made me doubt them from the beginning. Oh well).

Moving on, can you please put a list up of pretty "big" moments between KM during award shows? Your favorite moments?

I just get tired of people comparing how they are now to how they were a year ago, two years ago, etc. It is like no one knows that relationship grow and change with time.

Have a nice day and I love your fanservice posts! Stay healthy 💜

Hey, thank you for the sweet words. And I don't think it matters where, someone... somewhere is saying their bond has changed every single day. Lmao sure we can do my favorite award show moments! Shall we start with 2020 and work our way back in time?

(PS, can't wait to see what award show season brings us this year!)

2020

youtube

Do I even really need to explain why this is a big moment OR one of my favorites? Man, I will never ever be over this dance.

Jikook being literally as close as possible during the 2020 Golden Disc Awards. Seriously, what was the reason? Just kiss already...

(Corona stole so many good award show moment opportunities from us... most of their award show acceptances and more took place with video send ins and we got no sitting in the crowd interactions either... sad but these 2 were my favorite from 2020)

2019

JK throwing an I love you sign to Jimin at the Fact Music Awards, we've talked about this before and how much of a moment it was. You know what else took place at the Fact Music Awards in 2019?

Yup there almost on stage kiss and no reaction to it as well as JK just putting his check on Jimins check instead of actually Whispering anything like we all thought he was doing

Golden Disc Awards. "Jimin, can I say this to you? Its okay if you aren't the first, you'll always be number 1 to me" (paraphrased) you know, along with dropping honorifics on National TV

MMA and MAMA that year. JK getting emotional and hugging/hiding in Jimins shoulder and unable to let him go. And then filming with a selfie stick and JK spending almost the entire film chasing Jimin around to keep him in the camera.

SBS Gayo performances. Can we all die over Jikook with that little girl together. And then harmonizing in the confetti and staring into each others eyes... sigh...

2018

We can't mention 2018 and not mention MMA 2018.... because damn, what was going on with them this award show?? Seriously could not keep eyes or hands off each other

The AAA 2018 awards (i have a whole post about this already) and I'm pretty sure the clip of Jimin sitting and then bouncing in JKs lap came from this award show too

Caught on camera snuggled up unexpectedly at MAMA. Jimin tried to put some distance between them after that and JK refused, scooted right back up against his side.

I'll make a post 2 for 2017 and earlier. Lol ugh, picking my favorites for these years was so hard!

#jikook #kookmin #jikook at award shows #jikook 2018 - 2020 #anon #ask

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago

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he’ll never see this ~ noen eubanks

word count: 1994

request?: yes!

“Hi can you do one imagine of Noen Eubanks, like, the reader is a tik toker or influencer something like that and they have a crush on each other,and they Fans are Shipping them.

Thanksss💖🖤💖🖤💖”

description: in which she admits her feelings for a fellow creator during a stream thinking he’ll never see it

pairing: noen eubanks x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

The sound of a new donation message coming in pulled you away from your game for a split second. The automated voice read the message out to you: “are there any influencers that you are totally crushing on right now?”

You chuckle to yourself as you turn back to your game. “You guys really wanna start something, huh? You realize this will be trending within an hour if I say anything.”

You glanced over at your chat to see they were begging you to tell them who your influencer crush was. You had mentioned a few times that there was a fellow influencer that you had a crush on, but you refused to admit who it was (for obvious reasons). Your viewers, however, were determined to find out who this mystery man you liked was.

“We promise we’ll keep it a secret,” you read, managing to catch one message before it disappeared into the void of never ending messages. “I don’t believe you guys at all.”

You laughed as you watched the chat blow up again. You finally paused your game and made your face cam bigger for the audience. “Okay, you know what? Fuck it, there’s no way he’ll ever see this and I’m not big enough of a content creator to have articles written about me. My influencer crush is Noen Eubanks. If you don’t know who he is, look him up on TikTok and you’ll totally understand why I have such a crush on him.”

Your chat went absolutely wild at this. You went back to playing your game, smiling to yourself as you did so. It felt nice to get that off of your chest, and you knew you were about to get a kick out of your fan’s reactions to this.

Like you said, you had no fear of Noen actually finding out what you said. You had a bit of a following, but it was nothing too big. Just enough that you could be classified as “Internet famous”, but not enough that admitting you had a crush on someone else who had a much bigger following than you would be a big deal.

Or so you thought.

After your stream, you decided to go right to bed. You were feeling tired and had to get up early to edit the video you were planning on uploading. You weren’t awake to witness the internet absolutely explode over your comment, but lucky for you it was still happening when you woke up the next morning.

When you checked your phone for the first time that day, you noticed that your notifications had blown up over night. You figured it was just your fans teasing you over your crush on Noen, which it partly was, but you noticed that it was also YouTube news Twitter accounts and internet tabloid accounts tagging you in their articles about your crush on Noen.

“Oh no,” you said, your eyes widening as you read through article after article, tweet after tweet.

Before you knew it, you had spent nearly two hours sat on the floor, reading through everything that mentioned both you and Noen. All the articles were the same: an brief introduction to you and your small Twitch/YouTube following, talking about you admitting to having a crush on Noen the night before, and asking whether the reading audience believed that you and Noen would make a good couple or not.

The reactions from fans were as entertaining as you figured - with many of your fans trying to come up with ship names for you and Noen and tagging him in clips from your stream - but then there were the less than entertaining reactions. Many people, whether they were Noen’s fans or just people who wanted to hate on you you weren’t sure, were saying you had mentioned Noen’s name just for clout, or that your “crush” was nothing more than an infatuation over his looks.

It wasn’t until your phone rang that you were finally pulled out of your trance and back to the real world. Your friend’s name lit up on your screen, and it took you a moment to collect yourself before you answered.

“(Y/N), have you been online yet today?” she asked.

You sighed and nodded, then remembered she couldn’t actually see you. “Yeah, I’ve been scrolling for the past two hours on Twitter.”

“You haven’t checked your Twitch page, or YouTube account yet?”

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “No? Should I?”

“You definitely should.”

You put her on speaker and switched to your Twitch app. You were shocked to see that you had skyrocketed in subs overnight, same with your YouTube page. You had gained a solid ten thousand subscribers on both platforms, and it was still rising by the second.

“So this situation has gained me more subscribers, who cares? That’s not why I talked about Noen on stream,” you said.

“Oh no, honey. It isn’t just the situation that has given you new subscribers. Go check Noen’s Twitter.”

You knew what she was implying, but you had to see it for your own eyes. You immediately opened the Twitter app again and typed in Noen’s name. You were brought to his Twitter page, where his most recent tweet was a link to the clip from your stream along with a caption that read, “When your internet crush calls you *their* internet crush”.

You covered your mouth in shock. You were sure you were about to start screaming, but you were so speechless that you couldn’t force any sounds from your mouth.

“I’m assuming by the silence that you’ve seen it,” your friend said after a prolonged moment of silence.

“D-Did he just c-call me his...?” you trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.

“He did,” your friend confirmed. “And both of your fans are going wild. They’ve already come up with a ship name for you, which isn’t the most clever name but I admire their spirit.”

You could barley hear what your friend was saying. You were still staring at the tweet in disbelief. Your mind could barley comprehend anything else besides the fact that your online crush thought the same as you. You were trying to tell yourself not to get too worked up, as it was most likely that nothing was going to come from this besides some gossip for a week or more, but your heart was still racing with excitement.

You gasped as a notification popped up on the top of your screen: “@/eubanks_noen is requesting to message you”.

“He’s trying to DM me,” you whisper, so silently that you could barley hear yourself.”

“What?”

“He’s trying to DM me! On Twitter!”

“What are you doing talking to me?! Go answer his DM!”

You were too focused to laugh as you hung up the phone and went into your DMs. The familiar profile picture that you saw almost every day on your timeline was the first thing you saw in your message requests. Your whole body was shaking so much that you could barley see the screen as you pressed to open it.

“hi :)”

It was a very simple message, but it was enough to make your heart race even more.

You were debating on messaging back, wondering if maybe this was a fake account or something. But you knew there was only one way to find out for sure, so you took a deep breath and responded.

“hi! :)”

His response came near seconds later: “so...we’re the internet’s hottest power couple, huh?”

You chuckled to yourself. “i guess we are. sorry if i ruined your mentions last night. i didn’t think it would blow up the way it has. i’m not all that famous online.”

“are you kidding me? you’re like one of the best twitch streamers. i’ve watched every single one of your streams, including last night’s”

You felt your face heating up, but a slight groan of embarrassment came from your lips. You were thinking of all the embarrassing things you had said and done on stream, and now wished you could just melt into the floor or erase the entire internet.

“oh that’s embarrassing. i’d say i’m not that awkward and dumb in real life, but i’m actually more so”

“i wouldn’t say you’re awkward or dumb at all. i think you’re adorable”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed to no one in particular. If your face got any hotter, it would be on fire.

“you really know how to talk to a girl”

“i really don’t, but i’m glad you’re enjoying my attempts to flirt”

“so you’re flirting? never would’ve known”

“i know, it’s hard to tell. i’m trying to be subtle”

You continued to message Noen for a while. It felt so natural, as if you weren’t talking to someone you had been crushing on for about a year now. You were extremely glad you weren’t coming off as awkward as you normally felt.

Finally, after having been sat on the floor for a good three hours, your back began to ache and your stomach was growling so loudly in attempts to get your attention. You realized then that you had put getting breakfast on hold in order to fall deep into the hole of internet gossip that had surrounded you overnight.

“love talking to you and all, but i’m gonna have to go for a little bit. i’ve been sat on the floor basically since i woke up and i haven’t eaten yet today so my stomach is very upset with me”

“why are you on the floor? 😂”

“when i’m stressed i tend to sit down no matter where i am, and i was very stressed to see my name plastered all over social media this morning”

“why were you stressed over that?”

“it’s not something i’m exactly used to. like i said, i’m not overly famous online. i just have a small following. i’m not someone who has an article written about every little thing she says. also like i said, i didn’t expect you to see me admit that i have a crush on you last night, so i was so worried about what your reaction was going to be”

“i guess i can understand that. i haven’t had a lot written about me. i’m not a big tiktoker like some of my friends are, but i guess that’s a blessing”

You started to type another message, but paused when you saw the three dots from Noen indicating that he was typing something else.

“for what it’s worth, i’ve had a internet crush on you since you first started streaming”

Your jaw dropped at this. You had started streaming months before you even knew about Noen, which meant he had known about you before you knew about him. Just when you thought this day couldn’t get any better.

“wow! that’s quite a while. you must be one of my first subscribers then”

“i’m up there i think. i’ll wear that badge with pride”

The three dots again. You waited anxiously to see what he was about to say.

“i liked getting to talk to you today, though. maybe we could talk offline sometime, like through text or phone call. maybe meet in person eventually”

Your smile was so wide that it hurt your cheeks. “yeah, i’d really like that”

You exchanged phone numbers and added his to your contacts. You finally pulled yourself off the floor and started making a super late breakfast while also starting to edit your next video since you had also gotten such a late start on that.

You were putting your food on a plate when your phone chimed, indicating a new text message.

“btw, it’s nice to finally get to meet you internet crush :)”

“it’s nice to get to meet you, too, internet crush”

You sat at the table, your heart feeling warm. And to think, it all came true thanks to one nosy donation.

Not sure how much I like this imagine, but I hope you enjoyed anyways!

#noen eubanks #noen eubanks imagine #noen eubanks x reader #imagine #one shot #request #tiktok #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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itsadamcole · 4 years ago

Text

talk to me

fem!reader x kyle o’reilly

Kyle is upset after he loses his Takeover 31 match against Finn Balor. He refuses to talk to anyone, including the reader ... “please kyle, talk to me”

word count: 1.5k+

warnings: sad!kyle, fluff, implied sex, kind of NSWF (little touches here and there)

— kyle looked so sad in the promo the ue did the wednesday after takeover 31 and it made me sad. i wanted to write something with sad!kyle since he lost at takeover 31. i was gonna write something if he won too —

masterlist

***

You, Bobby, and Roddy all stand backstage watching the monitor while Kyle is in the ring with Finn Balor. Adam went off to the bathroom.

Kyle is in the most important match of his career, and he looks like he’s struggling.

He’s been struggling since Finn kicked his liver earlier in the match. He knees Finn in the jaw and Finn grabs at his mouth. Both him and Kyle are now bleeding from the mouth.

Finn hits his finisher, the Coup de Grace. He goes in for the pin and Kyle doesn’t move. His eyes are closed and he’s not moving. Your eyes widen a bit.

As soon as the ref gets the three count and Finn retains his title, you take off to the ring. Bobby and Roddy right behind you. You have no idea where Adam is but you assume he’ll be running out behind you three soon.

Kyle lays in the ring as Finn’s music blares. His eyes are open now but he looks really out of it. You kneel beside him and your hand is on his arm. “Kyle,” you say. “Kyle, are you okay?”

He doesn’t talk to you. He barely even looks at you.

“Adam!” Roderick shouts. You look over to see Ridge Holland holding Adam over his shoulder. Kyle sits up as Ridge throws Adam over the barricade. Roddy and Bobby run over to Adam.

Bobby asks Finn if he saw anything and he shakes his head. Roddy and Bobby help Adam to the back and you help Kyle. Bobby and Roderick ask Adam what happened but he still seems kind of out of it. He’s holding his ribs.

Kyle looks so upset that he lost. He looks like he’s about to start crying. It breaks your heart. You use part of your shirt to wipe away some blood that’s rolling down his chin.

Adam and Kyle are both assessed by the medical team. Adam has broken ribs and Kyle’s lip is all cut up, plus a bruised liver. Besides that, they’re both okay. No major injuries that will keep them out of the ring for an extended period of time.

Bobby, Adam, and Bobby are all talking about what happened after the match since he’s come to a little bit. You walk beside Kyle. He’s not talking, or looking at anyone.

The boys walk into their shared locker room. Kyle gets changed quickly and quietly.

“Kyle, you good bro?” Roderick asks.

He nods, not talking. You look at Roddy, concerned. Kyle’s not talking, not to you and not to the boys. He’s always so chatty, even after a loss.

This one must be hitting him kind of hard. Of course it is, he lost one of the most important matches in his career. He’s probably devestated.

Once Kyle’s changed, you say, “I think I’m going to get him home so he can rest.”

Bobby says, “Alright, sounds good.”

You hug all the boys. When you hug Adam goodbye, he says in your ear, “Make sure he’s okay and take good care of him. He’s hurting, physically and mentally. I know he’s probably being extremely critical of himself right now.”

You nod and say quietly, “I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Adam nods his head in response, letting you go.

You walk over to Kyle, who looks deep in thought. “Hey,” you say, grabbing his attention. “Let’s head home.” He looks down at you and nods. You lace your fingers with his and head out to your car.

Kyle is quiet the entire ride home. You occasionally glance over at him to see his face lit up by his phone light.

At a red light, you finally see what he’s looking at. He’s looking at clips from his match, he reading reactions.

“It was a very good match,” you say, trying to make him feel better. “Finn killed it, you killed it. I’m especially proud of you for winning the gauntlet match to make it to Takeover.”

Kyle just sighs softly and you pull up to your house that you live in with Kyle. Both of you get out. Kyle walks inside. You peddle right behind him, closing the front door. You hear footsteps up the stairs and a door shut upstairs as you kick off your sneakers by the front door.

You pout. You hate seeing Kyle like this. It breaks your heart seeing him upset about a loss. You almost wish you could go back in time and maybe even help Kyle get the win.

An idea pops into your head and you go into the kitchen. You grab a tub of Kyle’s favorite ice cream, which is vanilla and chocolate swirl, and two spoons. You walk up the stairs and down the little hallway to yours and Kyle’s shared room.

You walk in, opening the door quietly. Kyle is laying on the bed on his side, facing away from you. You notice that he’s breathing a little heavily and your heart falls into your stomach as you realize he’s crying.

After you put the tub of ice cream on your bedside table, you crawl into bed behind Kyle.

Soft sobs come from Kyle and you wrap your arm around his waist.

“Please Kyle, talk to me,” you say. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Kyle cries, “I feel like I failed you and that I failed the guys. I injured Finn on accident in the process. Tonight was supposed to be my night, Y/N.”

Your heart breaks even more as Kyle cries to you. You hold Kyle in your arms.

You say, “You didn’t fail anyone, Kyle. If anything, you made me and the boys proud tonight. You main evented Takeover for the first time in your career. That’s such an incredible achievement. As for injuring Finn, he’ll be okay. He’ll recover and be back in no time. Injuries in this line of work happen all the time.”

Kyle turns in your arms and looks at you. Tears run down his face and you wipe them away.

He says, “I’m sorry I couldn’t win the title. That was supposed to be for you.”

You hug Kyle as the two of you lay in bed as you say, “Title or no title, you’re my champion.” You smile at Kyle. “You’re NXT Champion Kyle O’Reilly to me.”

He gives you a breathy laugh and hold him in your arms.

You keep talking as you say, “I love you, Kyle. I’ll forever love you. No matter if you hold a title or not. That’s not why I fell in love with you. I didn’t fall in love with you because of the gold around your waist. I fell in love with you because you’re the funniest, coolest, and overall most amazing person I know.”

Kyle sniffs and smiles at you as you talk to him, trying to make him smile and feel better.

When you’re done talking, Kyle says, “I’m sorry I acted like this after the match. I was just upset that I lost. It was my first opportunity at a singles title in NXT and everything that went wrong did.”

You rest your hands on Kyle’s face when you see the tears falling down his cheeks again. You wipe the tears away as you say, “You did so well for your first singles title opportunity in NXT. I’m so proud of you, and I know the guys are proud of you too. Especially Adam. You’re allowed to be bummed after losing an important match. You’re allowed to act like this, but know that I’m right here to make you feel better.”

Kyle puts a hand on your waist and pulls you close to him, kissing you softly. His hand dips down to your butt, squeezing it softly. That’s when you know exactly what he wants.

“You can make me feel better by distracting me,” he mumbles against your lips. You were waiting for that statement before you did anything.

You giggle against his lips and move so you’re straddling his waist so he’s laying on his back on the bed.

You sit up and say, “You lay back and relax. I was told to take very good care of you so that is exactly what I’m going to do.” Your hands run gently up and down his chest, eventually slipping up the button of his shirt, pushing the black fabric up.

As soon as you’re done speaking, you and Kyle spend all night in bed. Once the clothes come off, which they do almost immediately after the conversation, you and Kyle are always either tangled up in each other or making love to each other.

You haven’t seen this side of Kyle since the two of you got married. He hasn’t made love to you in a while. He also wants to make sure that he doesn’t move too rough because of his liver injury.

Kyle made sure to take little breaks, especially for ice cream to keep his blood sugar at a level where he can keep going and to make sure that you’re okay.

The morning brings nothing but smiles and little kisses. You make Kyle breakfast in bed so he can rest. Of course, he’s interested in eating something else for breakfast. So you let it happen, leading to spending all day in bed.

#kyle o’reilly #kyle o’reilly imagine #kyle o’reilly fluff #wwe imagine #wwe fluff #wwe superstars #wrestling imagine #imagines #imagine #wrestling fluff #fluff imagine #fluffy #fluffy imagine

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angelkurenai · 5 years ago

Text

His Princess - Chris Evans x Reader

Title: His Princess

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Hello!! I’m so happy your requests are open again! Can you write Chris Evans going on set to his gf’s music video of "Beauty and the Beast" (w/ John Legend) and he’s so happy to date a «princess» please?

“Alright, one more for the net. Just stay like that, you look wonderful!”

You couldn't help but giggle at the enthusiasm of the young assistant. What with your manager being unable to show up any of the days of the filming the way she normally would and her always wanting you to have someone with you all the time besides bodyguards, make up artists and stylists that would be there more as a friend than anything else. And so her assistant was yours for the week as well, and you would be lying if you said you weren't already having great fun just by being around her. Not to mention the excitement of being on the set itself and living the dream quiet literally already had you grinning the whole day long as you skipped around the place.

“Alright, is this good?” you asked, resting your chin on your palm, nearly kneeling down on the floor so that the dress looked more like a flower that had enveloped you whole. The maroon color only a great contrast against the white walls of the small room and the lights shining over your diamonds jewellery.

“That's perfect, yes!” she nearly squealed, snapping another photo that made you laugh “Alright, I'm pretty sure we've got more than plenty of photos and videos now. I'm gonna get out of your hair now and see what little I can post to tease the fans. Oh and Eric left the gloves on the chair in the corner. He said it would be best if you wore them because they wanted to run a few tests with cameras and see if they will keep them or not in the end.”

“Alright, Coco, don't worry. I've got this.” you nodded your head, already picking up the fabric and slipping it through your fingers “See you in a couple minutes!”

It wasn't long before you were left in your own devices by the assistant and a calm silence fell in the room. You looked at your reflection, fixing your gloves and dress you hummed the tune of the song.

Taking your phone you scrolled through your feed, one last time before you went to work, only to soon take notice of the photos that had already been uploaded by Coco and grinned widely when you saw that some of your friends had already commented, earning a soft laugh from you as you went through them. Most of them already knew about the filming you were doing for the song of the new Beauty and The Beast movie. You had been overly excited both about the opportunity to sing the song itself – alongside none other than John Legend at that – and even more film the music video. You were so thrilled even before you got started, there was no stopping you from telling your friends everything about it even before you got started.

After so many years in the music industry, so many worldwide tours and music videos and albums later, and more than just a few in the movie industry as well you had seen and experienced so many things and yet you still got so excited over the most simple projects. Much like this one, there was not a single thing you didn't look forward to. At first you were sure it was going to be in a unique location but it was a totally different thing getting to actually see it, especially when you realized that most of it was real and not just a green screen. So with a beautiful set, dressed quiet literally like a princess it was impossible for it all to not feel like a fairytale and have you enticed even before you got started.

“Disney princess or the new Queen of Asgard? Easily both!” Chris Hemsworth had commented.

“Could have not said it better, Chris! What would a King be without her Queen after all?” Tessa comments made you grin.

“Safe to say, running Marvel and Disney has never looked more classy!” it was one from RDJ.

“And then they said not to believe in fairytales. Looking stunning as ever! If you wanna switch up a Captain, I'm always available!” your friend's comment made you laugh and you made a mental note to reply to Brie the second you got the chance to.

“Alright, so what petition do I need to sign to have them make this a live-action Disney movie now?” Liz Olsen with a great variety of emojis.

You couldn't help your smile all the while you scrolled down the comments, seeing many more not just from costars, friends or other celebrities and plenty from fans; but it was all the while a bit too tight. It didn't reach your eyes, certainly not the more you looked and found no comment from your boyfriend. You knew you shouldn't hold it against him but part of you couldn't help but feel the first waves of sadness wash over your soul. Mainly because he was the one that knew most about this song and video clip, how nervous and excited you had been from the first moment; it felt like he had been with you the whole way through all of it and therefore you wanted him to see this too, even if it was only part of what was to come.

On one hand the fact that he was such a big Disney fan was no secret either and it had always made your eagerness to see his reaction to this grow even more. And on the other, loving the man so much meant that his compliments always held a different, much more big, significance to you. Maybe, you realised slowly as you dwelled on it more, it also had a lot to do with the way he said everything. There was always so much emotion in them, such great love and admiration and adoration and every other beautiful feeling he felt for you, showing through not only his words but also his eyes, expression and touches that after all these years you had learned to picture even when he was not close to you.

You decided not to think any more of it, realising that he surely had work to do and it would be better if you focused on it. The fact that you missed said man because you had not seen him in over week due to said work completely put aside.

Setting your phone aside you started making some final checks on your dress and looks, getting the feel of it as you signed softly to yourself “Tale as old as time. True as it can be. Barely even friends, than somebody bends-”

“Unexpectedly.” the singing was soft in your ear, the breath fanning over your cheek and bare neck before a pair of arms sneaked around your waist and a pair of lips were pressed on your neck, making shivers run down your entire spine with such intensity you couldn't hold back a gasp. When a squeeze came next you didn't even have the time react because his one hand slid up to your arm and rested on your shoulders, drawing the familiar goosebumps you had so missed the past couple days.

You would have leaned back into the firm broad chest, the action as natural as blinking. Every curve and edge of your body always seemed to fit perfectly with his no matter the position and you would be a big liar if you said your body was already reacting to his touch. Your heart with its unruly heartbeat – one that easily matched his – and your lungs refusing to take in a deep breath as the pleasant warmth spread through hands around you were easily a sign of who it was, every cell in your recognizing the contact.

Your eyes widened and your vision nearly blurred as you turned around to face the man you had not even realized was there but could recognize even with your eyes completely closed. “Chris?”

“Your highness.” his smile got even bigger when you turned to lock eyes with his and oh wasn't that a sight to make your entire day worth it, if anything making all of your worries and fears disappear. His eyes were so soft, filled with so much adoration and almost sparkling in a way you had not seen before.

You stared at him for what felt like an eternity, unable to believe he was there, looking at you so lovingly. His hands were cupping your face and only when you heard him whisper “Hello, my love.” did reality dawn on you. Realizing it wasn't a dream you almost squealed before you jumped in his arms, wrapping yours around his shoulders. Earning a deep chuckle that made his chest ramble, you couldn't hold your own laughter when you felt it against your own chest.

“Oh my gosh.” you choked out, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to force yourself not to cry “Chris.” you pulled just slightly away to look into his eyes, cupping his face in both your hands. Your eyes roamed over his face, taking everything in as it felt nearly impossible to believe this was happening. You leaned in to press your lips to his in an urgent kiss that still earned a soft laugh from him. You let out a soft breath when you pulled away and as you rested your forehead against his you repeated “Chris.” and he smiled even more widely “You're here. How?”

“Do you really question that? I would travel from the other side of the world for you.” and his smile turned into a small smirk “Isn't that what a prince always does?”

“Why-” your smile turned more into a smirk as you slowly started pulling away, despite the small sound of protest that came from his lips “I didn't know you were officially my prince charming. That is a title that must be earned, is it not?”

“And it would be my greatest honor to...” he started with a small smirk of his own which eventually faded much like his words as he fully took in the sight of you in the beautiful gown, with the jewelry and gloves adorning the whole look, you realised he was completely at a loss for words.

“Well, seeing as you didn't see the photos posted on instagram yet, I'll ask now: How do I look?” you probably already looked confident enough but that didn't mean you didn't want to hear his opinion more than anybody else's.

“Dear” his eyes were wide as he took everything in “Marry me already.”

And as you expected it wasn't he words, or at least not only the words, which made your heart leap to your throat. It was the pure love and awe that filled his eyes, his smile brighter than you had ever seen it. It was the way his voice became low, almost hoarse as if his throat closed from the overwhelming emotion in his chest. It was the way he reached out for you again and slowly traced his fingers over yoru cheek, touch light as a feather, as if he feared to break you. In his eyes you saw you were more than just a fragile porcelain doll, way more important and precious to him than anything actually.

“I'm fairly sure I wouldn't mind the idea, however, should you not do something heroic to say the least to earn that right? To have the hand of a princess and even more her heart, that requires more effort, don't you think?” you said with a smirk and he chuckled before straightening his back.

“Why, your highness, had I known you'd be so open to the idea I'd have brought the ring with me. It has been tucked in the back of my drawer for too long, I fear.” he said it so casually and truthfully, without a hint of pretend for the sake of the small momentary fairytale you were living through, that it made you pause for a second to hold your breath and blink at him.

Too caught up with your own thoughts you didn't even have the chance to question anything when he spoke again. A soft laugh escaped his lips as he slowly took both your hands in his, the act slipping for the moment, as he whispered again “My gosh, you look stunning. How did I ever get so lucky in my life?”

“It's no big deal.” you felt bashful all of a sudden and you were well aware it was because of the way your heart had sped up at the thought of said ring which he had joked about a long time ago but not in this way, not with such underlacedhonesty and seriousness.

“No big deal?” his eyebrows raised “I'm standing in front of the most beautiful disney princess to ever exist, both on the inside and on the outside. And on top of it all she is my girl and only mine. I'd say I don't deserve this kind of love but who am I to judge? My ideal fairytale I coming to life, this is too good to be true and yet it is. I'll take whatever you have to give me and offer everything I can in return. Who knows-” he pulled away, you not having realized when his forehead had come to rest against yours “Maybe I'll do a job good enough or the ring will be impressive enough to make at least a bit something like a prince charming.”

The wink he sent your way earned a laugh from your own lips, easing some of the tense feeling in your chest. You realised there was no reason to dwell on it or overstress it, not at the moment, so you let your smile become more easy if not more teasing “I'm sure you'd have plenty to offer, my kind sir. But first, if only in order for a proper courtship, you must have to catch me, don't you?”

“I must wha-” he started but all words died on his lips. You were sure he had already caught up somehow, the glint in his eyes telling you as much, but didn't give him the chance to fully question it before you were already pulling away from him and with a wink, opening the door and sprinting down the long hallway.

You heard the deep laugh, filling the entire hallway and with only the smallest glance over your shoulder you saw the man start to follow you fast enough. Grinning you picked up your dress and with that, picked up your pace so that you were running. As if the feeling of the dress bouncing around like a soft cloud, the air warm inside the building but present nonetheless - not only because of the running but also because of the studio you were fast approaching and that you remembered had more than a few doors and windows – wasn't enough to make you laugh, hearing your boyfriend's laughter as he tried to catch you get louder made you feel as if you were flying more than running.

“(Y/n)? What are you-”

You recognised the voice immediately but didn't have the time to reply let alone stop for even a second when you heard Chris get closer “Can't talk now Chrissy, I gotta go! Ah!” you actually yelped – or perhaps it was her, though the laughter that came next were surely hers when your boyfriend nearly bumped into John's wife and his apologies were the proof because you didn't turn to see – before you quickly run around a corner and down some stairs.

It wasn't even a couple seconds later that you found yourself running inside the studio itself, the cameras all around as the crew was setting everything up for the filming. You almost got so carried away by the entire place, many things having been added since the morning when you first showed up, and in the middle of admiring the realistic set of a castle they had managed to build. You were sure if you had not been in any hurry, you could have easily spent hours wanderingaround the place and admiring the detailed work, getting lost in a daydream much like a fairytale. But, again, you were in a hurry and as you felt the first fingers slip over your waist, aside from earning a small yelp from you they managed to get you moving again, or more specifically running.

“You have to be faster than that, darling.” you grinned, rounding the piano so that you were on the one side and he on the other.

“Who says I am being nearly half as fast as I can really be? Who says that if I really wanted to I wouldn't already have my hands on you?” he smirked, raising an eyebrow at you that made you giggle “I am merely being your perfect prince charming.”

“Alright, first; I like the sound of that but it's not going to make me give in just yet. And second; we both know that you're just being a sore loser here. You haven't caught me yet not because you can't. You're also a sore looser, not a prince charming, dear.”

He groaned, placing a hand over his chest “Another wound, all within the span of only a couple minutes. How do I survive this? Oh yes, in fairytales, a kiss always always does wonders, doesn't I? If only my princess would be kind enough to not run away from me anymore and instead save my life?”

You had to admit that although he was being both dramatic and cheeky, and you had to keep serious, you couldn't hold back your wide smile as you spoke “For starters, you will have to earn it. And-” you paused, jumping away as he made a move to run around the piano but you were fast to get away so that you had now swapped places “If I may ask, what's the first one?”

“Wouldn't you know? As if you can't see my bleeding heart which has been struck worse today at seeing you like this. But-” another jump that got him dangerously close “I suppose if I can't get a kiss, I will make it my last wish that you wear a similar dress soon.” his words made you frown until he added “Only in total white. And really, the soonest possible so we should probably start making a guests list.”

“Chris” you caught yourself pausing, longer than expected and than should be right in this case but you felt like you had no control of your body at the moment “This is not a funny joke anymore.”

“Who said it was one in the first place?” he asked, and you could swear you heard Chrissy and John gasp softly in the background. At some point you had even seen them but now your entire mind was blank. You focused on Chris, his voice much softer than before, his posture having relaxed as if to let you know he wasn't playing any game of sorts “And maybe-” he took a slow tentative step towards you, eyes on you to judge your reaction all the time. When he saw you didn't move away from him, he took more steps closer to you “If you'd let me, I could show you real soon that I was serious from the first moment.”

“Wha-” but you stopped yourself because you knew that wasn't the answer you wanted so bad to ask, it wasn't the one your heart longed for to be answered so instead you whispered “How?”

Chris leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead, extending a hand which you took before he said another hing “First, I believe it's best if you get to job as fast as possible. And for that to happen, it would be right of me to stop playing around. So, what do you say we start things the way only in fairytales they do: a dance?”

“It doesn't necessarily happen in this order but-” you smiled, glancing over his shoulder to see John and his wife do the same, the music having only second now starting to play “I think we've already found the perfect song, so why not?”

“Think of it... as practice.”

#chris #chris evans #chris imagine #chris evans imagine #chris x reader #chris evans x reader #chris fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #chris one shot #chris evans one shot #beauty and the beast

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bang-and-a-blintz · 4 years ago

Text

Caught in the Web

This one is for our wonderful @hiphop-gir! I sort of got a little carried away with this lol I’m sorry, it’s just that when I think of this delicious blonde serial killer version of Claes - my mind can’t help but to automatically lean towards more...twisted things. 😇

An interrogation goes...wrong in all the right ways?

Cheers!

Fandom: The Girl in the Spider’s Web

Relationship: Jan Holster//Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warning: Um very smutty and sort of dark. Some kidnapping, a bit of choking, and light threatening.

Word Count: 2,651

~Caught in the Web~

A loud bang made you jump as the door burst open, bouncing off of the wall behind it. You couldn't see anything through the darkness of the sack covering your head, but you knew you were no longer alone in the musty room that your captors had placed you in.

Your wrists burned from the zip ties wrapped tightly around them and your shoulders were beginning to ache due to the awkward angle of having your hands tied behind your back.

"Well, what do we have here?" A cold, deep voice cut across the room like a knife. You could hear the thumping of footfalls coming closer. "Relieve our…guest of those restraints."

Someone dashed over and you were temporarily blinded from the sudden brightness as the hood was ripped from your face. While you blinked, trying to quickly focus on your surroundings, the same person made work of the ties around your wrists and cut them free.

When your eyes finally adjusted and you rubbed the circulation back into your limbs, the first thing you saw made your throat go dry.

It was him.

The spider who takes those unfortunate enough to fall into his trap and then makes them disappear.

Jan Holster.

You had only heard stories about the terrifying assassin that stood in front of you. Whispers in the wind of a man turned death machine for the Soviet's special ops before going rogue. Not many lived to tell the tales...but you had certainly heard stories, so it wasn't an entirely impossible feat.

Only no one spoke of how damnably attractive he was and you weren't sure how you felt about that.

"Leave us."

The man who cut you loose quickly scurried away.

What remained was a nearly unbearable silence. You cautiously looked up to see the infamous killer staring at you with furious intent.

Jan was statuesque. His towering form seemed to take up the entirety of the cramped, dilapidated room. He was shrouded in a pitch-black long leather coat and endless dark layers of clothing. Protection from the bitter sting of the arctic temperatures. The shock of blond hair and icy blue eyes were stark in contrast.

What really caught your attention was how his face was littered with several scrapes and bruises, as though he had just gotten out of a fight. You had the sneaking suspicion that he had won.

He looked scary as hell, intimidating, rugged, and downright feral. By all accounts, you should be very afraid, but the blasphemous heat pooling in the pit of your stomach spoke otherwise.

The severity of his stare pinned you in your seat. He placed his gloved hands flat on the table and leaned down, slowly and deliberately licking his lips.

The predator eyeing his prey.

"Tell me," His voice was guttural, "Why were you running, kroshka?"

You swallowed thickly and shook your head, "I wasn't running, I swear I don't kno-"

"Shh," He cut you off, holding a finger up in warning, "No, no, no, ptichka. Do not lie to me. You saw their faces and you know where they are."

His words were clipped, barely concealing his frustration. The use of those sweet little pet names was like poison dripping from his mouth.

"I told you, I - I don't know."

"TELL ME THE FUCKING TRUTH!" Jan roared, his hands grasping the withering chair before him and threw it with all his might against the opposite wall. You flinched as it broke upon impact, scattering pieces of splintered wood across the floor.

"Please, I swear! I don't know anything!" Holding your hands up, you tried to plea with him to see reason, that you really were innocent in this whole ordeal. You were just someone who was at the wrong place and at the very wrong time. "Look, when that apartment exploded, those people disappeared before I knew what was even happening. There was so much smoke and the fire was taking over the entire building, it was all I could do to run before it took me too! Then your asshole goon squad threw me into the back of their van and brought me here. I don't know what the hell happened!"

He walked around the table slowly, coming to a stop directly behind you.

"Forgive me,” He sighed, “My temper sometimes gets carried away."

Finger by finger, he pulled off his leather gloves with precision and dropped them on the table in front of you. Then his cold hands were resting on your shoulders, though they were surprisingly gentle as he held you still.

His breath was suddenly against your ear and you fought to control your racing heart. It felt like it was going to jump right out of your chest and it nearly stopped when those large hands gave you a sharp squeeze.

A warning.

"I do not enjoy being lied to." He tutted as you tried to speak, "It makes me feel as if I am being treated like a fool. Do you think that I am a fool, kroshka?"

"N-no."

"I could not hear you."

Those freezing hands gripped you tightly now, the contrast of his cold fingers against your burning skin was regretfully delicious. You chided yourself for being so affected by this man.

"No!" You ground out with a hiss, squirming in the seat and pressing your thighs together. A weak attempt to alleviate the sudden ache you felt.

"Good." He hummed, tapping his digits slightly against your collarbone.

Before you knew what was happening, Jan pulled you out of the chair and slammed you against the wall. The moment your back connected with the plaster, one of his hands wrapped around your throat to hold you still while his handsome face loomed over you with a dark expression.

You had never been so turned on in your life.

The taste of danger made you insatiable; your morality and finite self-concern were now long gone.

"Let's try this again, hm?"

"Please, I -" You weakly tried to bite back a moan as he tightened his hold on your neck. To your embarrassment, Jan heard it.

He froze, blue eyes widening for a moment before sliding down to observe this new position. Almost as if he wasn't aware that he was the one who put the two of you there in the first place.

Your bodies were flush, his broad chest was completely encompassing as he pinned you to the wall. You couldn’t help but to arch towards him, thrumming with anticipation.

Now he was curious.

Testing the uncertain waters, Jan tensed his fingers again and you knew he could feel your pulse beating erratically beneath his hand. You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes firmly, trying so very hard to fight the blush rising on your cheeks.

When you finally opened them again, you were almost frightened to see his reaction, but to your surprise, his brows just rose. A small, devious smirk quirked his lips.

"Ah, I see." His voice dropped an octave and you felt goosebumps rise along your flesh. With a quick movement, he slid his own leg between yours and pressed it hard against your center. "You like this?"

The delicious tease of friction made you bite down on your lip, but you refused to respond.

"Answer me." He bounced his leg and you felt shocks shoot up your spine. The hand around your neck gave another squeeze, forcing you to meet his gaze.

His pupils were blown wide with lust and you could do nothing but groan, breaking down and grinding your hips slowly along his thick thigh.

Desperate for anything he could give.

"Yes," You gasped, finding courage in the way his eyes fluttered shut when your knee lightly brushed against his crotch, "And it seems that you do too, Spider."

Growling, he snapped his eyes open and sent you a look of warning. He then pushed you harder into the wall, halting your movements entirely. "Where did they go?"

Was he still on about that? You fought an eye roll.

"I. Don't. Know." You hissed, snatching a fistful of his shirt and dragging him closer till you were just a breath apart. "And, to be honest, I don't fucking care."

His jaw ticked, but you stared at him defiantly, not backing down in the slightest. He didn't move. He didn't say a word. Jan just studied your face silently, searching.

Releasing his shirt, you brought your hand down, keeping your eyes locked on his, and gripped him through his pants. He was thick and big and undeniably hard.

"Is this really what you want?" Jan said, rather gruffly. His jaw clenched tightly as he fought control.

This time you actually did roll your eyes. "Are you done interrogating me?"

You gave his cock another squeeze and he bucked, lips suddenly crashing onto yours to steal a searing kiss. It was a rough, demanding, teeth-gnashing, biting mess and when he pulled back you were completely breathless and absolutely wrecked.

It took a moment to understand why he stopped, as you tried to chase his venomous lips but he kept pulling back, just out of your reach. When you looked up in irritation at the deadly man, you realized what he was truly waiting for. Your consent.

"You want this?" Jan asked lowly, his chest heaved with his ragged breath and his bright eyes were wild.

A man never looked more edible.

"Yes, I do. I want you to fuck me. Right now." You spoke, gazing up at him through hooded eyes, barely comprehending the unadulterated sultry tone of your own voice, "Now shut the fuck up and get to it, kozyol."

He needed no more convincing as he swung into action, latching onto your lips again and tugging you back over to the table. You jumped up to sit on it while he maneuvered himself in between your legs, not for a second breaking the consuming kiss.

The man was everywhere, his hands grabbing and pawing with a desperate vigor, his mouth was wet and sloppy and delectable; you took everything you could get. The tension that dominated his body gave you the hint that this sort of release was long overdue. You were happy to help with this investigation in any way you could.

With a rough tug, you ripped out his belt and made quick work of unbuttoning his pants. He was heavy, hot, and positively swollen underneath your palm. The pad of your thumb swiped the precum pooling from the tip and he groaned deeply, snapping his hips into nothing, desperate for some sort of friction.

The next thing you knew, one of his cold hands were down your pants, and without warning, two of his impossibly large fingers slipped inside you.

"Holy fuck!" You gasped, breaking away from his lips to suck in a deep breath. A third quickly followed, opening you up even further. You moaned loudly, body pliant to his attentions as he curled up against that spot that made you see stars.

Then they were gone just as quickly, but before you could whine in protest, he lifted you up further onto the table and ripped your pants off entirely. You could hardly take another shuddering breath as the cold air hit your bare cunt before he was back on you and teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, gently sliding back and forth along your slick folds.

He paused, looking you dead in the eyes while his free hand came up to stroke the line of where your neck met your shoulder. Shooting you a villainous smirk, Jan yanked down the collar of your shirt, bit down hard on the sensitive flesh of your neck, and sank into your warmth. Your body curved up into his embrace and you cried out, the shock of both primal pleasure and scorching pain sent your nerves into overdrive.

Immediately, Jan set a bruising pace, the brutal intrusion was exactly what you wanted, what you fucking craved. You matched his thrusts and gripped his jacket, just to hold on to something, anything to keep you upright.

It was viceral. It was vicious. It was deliciously punishing as you both fucked each other as if your very lives depended on it.

He replaced his teeth with his hand once more and squeezed down on your windpipe, his mouth edging over until he was panting into the shell of your ear, "This is what you needed, hm? You needed a good fuck."

Changing the angle, he delivered a sharp thrust that stole your voice.

"You wanted someone to take control, to use your body, to possess your very soul." He growled lowly, "Glaza boyatsya, a ruki, hm? You fear it and that drives you fucking wild."

You moaned loudly, too far gone to care about his biting words. With every pleasurable sting, you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to the precipice. The pit deep in your gut burned and boiled and was surely going to explode if he kept up with that filthy mouth of his.

“Yes, that’s it.” Jan grunted, a bead of perspiration trailed down his face from his efforts, “You desire someone who would wreck you from the inside out and make you beg for more."

"Fuck, yes, bistreye! Faster, please, I - oh, fuck!"

The man's hips were like pistons; relentlessly slamming into you, filling you to the brim before pulling back out just to bury himself inside again, deeper and deeper. You nails tore at his shirt as you shattered around him, coming almost violently and nearly choking yourself as you writhed against his hand.

He let go of your throat and stole what little breath you still had away with his lips, blocking your cries and moans from traveling too far outside the small room. Your body was wracked with trembles as you rode your high, letting wave after wave of sinful delight roll over you.

The Spider doubled his efforts, his hips stuttering in a punishing rhythm and his hands were gripping your flesh so hard, you were certain there would be an endless amount bruises waiting for you later.

With a roar, he came, chomping back down on the sensitive and abused spot of your neck, gripping you tightly against his shaking body. He pumped once, twice more before exhaling a deep breath and falling to his elbows around you.

The tension seeped from your bones as you collapsed back onto the table. Blissfully sated. Nothing but the sounds of your gasping breaths filled the room as the both of you struggled to maintain normal oxygen levels.

That might have been the best sex of your life.

It was worth it to come undone beneath the brutality of this devilish man, despite the lingering fear of your own impermanence. You supposed the thrill of temporality was a wonderful aphrodisiac.

Suddenly his lips were on yours. This time the kiss was soft, gentle, deep, and full of strangely unfamiliar feelings. Jan delicately plied your lips open, his velvet tongue circled yours, and he groaned as you lapped back cautiously. The hand that threatened to squeeze the life from you was now stroking a calming pattern against the swell of your cheek.

He pulled away after a moment, tucking himself back into his pants and slicking any errant blond hairs back in their place.

Once satisfied, he looked at you with a cunning little smirk. "This information will suffice. Thank you for your…assistance."

Before you could even blink, he was gone.

The door slammed shut behind him and you sat there, stunned. Rather than rushing to dress and flee back to your home, which would be the logical course of action; all you truly wanted now was more time caught up in the Spider's web.

Welp there it is! Inspired by that sexy scene where he’s all bloodied up and looks tasty. Someone stop me.

*my attempt at writing with the Russian language - if I got anything wrong, I apologize*

kroshka - little one

ptichka - little bird

kozyol - bastard

Glaza boyatsya, a ruki - The eyes are afraid, but the body still commands. (You feel the fear, but do it anyways)(Russian proverb)

bistreye - faster

Tagging:

@vissidarte213 @hyacinth-meadow @gabesprincess @festering-queen @thebeautyofdisorder @hoefordarkness @allis143 @torntaltos @guardianbelle @greenisms @cam-bang @feralstare @profiler-in-courage @enchantedfleur

(just in case anyone else was interested - feel free to message me if you’d like to be removed or added)

#request #claes bang x reader #jan holster x reader #the girl in the spider's web #jan holster #n/sfw #idk how to tag anymore honestly #they end up having a great time during an interrogation??#sure why tf not #claes bang thirst squad

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gothamslittlejester · 4 years ago

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Sweet Comfort

This was written for my dear friend @ajokeformur-ray who deserves the world and all the Joker comfort it can bring <333 Thank you for checking up on me even after I fell off the earth, and for reminding me just how much I missed writing. I hope that in return this brings a smile to your face and reminds you just how loved and adored you are :)) (also I know I went SLIGHLTY over word count but oop)

Angst to Comfort. Reader goes into a depression spiel and begins to self isolate and shut down, trying to push Joker away as a result. He’s not having any of that.

Word Count: 2566

TW: Language, depression/depressive thoughts, but quickly followed by clown cuddles!

You just knew, from the very moment you opened your eyes that morning, that today would be nothing short of the exhausting, dreaded imprisonment that was your own depression. It was bleak, and dark, and pulled you in with heavy hands, like a blackhole designed for your own suffering. And suffering you were.

You closed your eyes again and prayed for sleep. The mere thought of getting up to pour some coffee seemed too complicated and tiring, so you didn’t even bother entertaining the idea. What was yesterday’s anxiety was now today’s misery, and you mentally slapped yourself for ignoring the signs. You had dismissed the intrusive thoughts that had whispered to you all week- surely they would go away alone, right?- but they had taken their time to catch up with you, and now you were facing the consequences. Bitterly, you wondered if you deserved it.

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but give your destructive subconsciousness some credit; it waited patiently to attack, taking its time in the back corners of your mind to let stress and insecurities seep into your bloodstream before the real pain sunk in. It wasn’t even cruel voices at this point- something you could pinpoint and fight against, something you could stop- it was just a thick, dark sea of emotions, and it pulled you in with serrated teeth.

It was the perfect poison, and you didn’t even know you were drinking it.

You had gotten so lost in your misery that you barely noticed the rustling sound coming from your left, barely felt clothed arms wrapping around your waist. Your silent suffering was immediately interrupted as Joker sleepily pulled you close, and although your masochistic thoughts still gripped into your flesh, Joker’s presence was unintentionally offering a distraction. Smokey breaths caressed your cheek, and you almost felt it- fuck, you wanted to feel it- but the sickness in your mind was ruthless and refused to give in so easily. Stray pieces of green hair tickled your neck as your lover nuzzled deeper into the embrace, still blissfully oblivious to the inner turmoil inside you.

A small part of you wanted to scream, to cry out for him, to beg him to pull you even closer until all you felt and thought and knew was his body, so you could heal, but your lips stubbornly remained shut. Instead, you silently prayed he would go back to sleep, so you could continue to suffer alone without dragging him into your own personal hell.

And maybe he would have gone back to sleep, like your demons wanted, if you had actually curled back into him like you always did and responded to his morning loving. But you didn’t, you didn’t move a muscle, and even in his hazy grogginess he could feel something was wrong.

His eyebrows creased together in confusion and tried again, nuzzling into your neck and leaving warm kisses to your cold skin. Joker knew you were awake from how you were breathing, so why weren’t you responding? He softly bit and nibbled at your throat, his fingers dancing along your torso as he wordlessly pleaded for a reaction.

He expected his little game to work, he knew how much you craved his attentive touch, yet you didn’t even offer a twitch in response. By now you would have scooched closer, interlaced your fingers in his hair, turned your head towards him, perhaps even giggled at the attention… but you continued to face the wall as if he didn’t even exist, and this set off several red flags in his brain.

He began to stir again, this time fully awake, and turned your body so you were facing him. You let him twist you around until your forehead was mere inches from his, but continued to hide behind the bulky comforter so he wouldn’t see the sadness that contorted your features. You tensed up, waiting for him to pull the blanket away, for the interrogation to begin… but neither came. You knew he was looking at you, studying you, and he most definitely could feel the despairing energy radiating from your body, yet he remained silent. His fingers continued to caress your stomach lovingly, quietly telling you he loved you, to open your eyes and tell him what was wrong, dammit, but you continued your isolation regardless.

Moments passed, and Joker began to feel his instinctive protectiveness take over. He had always been eerily observant when it came to you, and somewhere deep in his chaotic mind he came to the exact conclusion on what was wrong, minus the little details. He easily gathered you wanted to be left to suffer alone just from your body language, but he dismissed that thought entirely. You wished.

His arms once again wrapped around your body, this time more forcefully, and pulled your head against his chest.

“Tell me what’s wrong and how I can make it go away.” Despite the soft plea in his tired voice, you knew this wasn’t an offer, but a demand. Joker rarely demanded things from you, regardless of his dominating nature, but this was one of the few times he did, and you knew there was absolutely no room to argue.

The blackhole that was your depression continued to pull, its hands growing desperate, but now your clown was here, and Joker refused to let go. It was a tug of war, and you weren’t sure who was going to win. He pulled you deeper into his chest, the red fabric of his coat covering your vision and protecting you from the outside world. You idly wondered why he was wearing the blazer in bed and why he hadn’t taken it off last night, but the familiar scent of cigarettes, detergent and innocent blood brought you a small piece of comfort, as macabre as it was.

“I’m fine.” you said in a clipped voice, swallowing down the tremble in your throat. All you wanted to do was sink into your lover’s arms, let his words sooth you in a slumber and gently pick apart the demons that resided in your mind, but your depression wouldn’t allow it. The soundless voices egged you to isolate from him… to hide under the covers of your blanket and mourn your lost peace of mind… and you nearly did- how tempting sadness could be- if it wasn’t for how quick Joker had grown accustomed to your behavior.

The painted ends of his lips began to pull into a frown, his demeanor slowly changing into something more alarmed, and much, much more protective. His expression completely clouded over, and instinctively his arms began to tighten around your body almost painfully, protecting you from whatever was hurting his beloved soulmate.

“You know, I may be a clown but I’m not a fool”.

You furrowed your brows in silence, unable to come up with a good answer. You knew how perceptive he could be, and in complete honesty the last thing you wanted was to push him away, but dragging him into your pain felt selfish and wrong. You silently begged him to leave, to let you wallow in your own misery and not bring him into the grief that was your mind, but Joker began gritting his teeth like he had heard exactly what you were thinking.

“Don’t hide from me. Never from me.” He began to cradle your head in his hands, his nose ghosting up and down your face as he breathed in your scent. It was comforting and dotting, an undeniable sign of love, yet simultaneously loud with the words “I’m not going anywhere, so start talking.”

“I don’t want to push you away,” You finally whispered, tears threatening to spill over. “I don’t want to hide from you, I want to tell you everything even though it hurts.”

“Then don’t hide. Tell me everything that’s bothering you, no matter how bad it is, please.”

He was growing more overprotective every second, feeling your pain and fear grip at his heart but unable to pinpoint the danger causing it. He just wanted to see you smile, to see you happy and strong, and he wasn’t relenting until he knew exactly what was preventing it. He knew the walls you had created to keep him out were seconds away from breaking so he urged you on, his fingers still clutching your head near his, desperate for you to let him in.

“Please,” he repeated once more, torment coating his voice, and he knew the second you started to tremble that he had succeeded.

“Arthur…” you whispered out in a heartbroken sob, finally letting the tears spill out and trickle onto his clothes. You began to shake as the sadness trapped in your soul finally escaped, too weak and tired to hold it in for any longer.

Immediately, Joker began to coo in your ear and pet your hair, wiping the tears away with chaste kisses and soft touches. His legs wrapped around yours and he pulled the blanket more snuggly around you, creating a cocoon just for the two of you. He rubbed slow circles on your temple in an attempt to prevent a headache that was certainly going to follow, nuzzling your head even closer- if possible- to his own.

“It hurts,” you sobbed, clutching at your chest as if it was somehow your heart’s fault for creating this misery in your head. “It hurts, Arthur, and I don’t know what to do…”

“I know,” He crooned, his red lips leaving wet smears with every kiss he placed on your cheeks. “Let it out, sweetheart, just let it out. Let your Joker take care of you today. Let me help you.”

And so you did. You cried and cried for what felt like hours, basking in Joker’s care and protective grip on your trembling body. Not once did he drop his hold on you or stop his possessive care, patiently letting you release all the depression and anxiety you had been hiding away, until there was nothing left but small sniffs and hiccups.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you this morning. I was so sad, and felt so alone… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t… I didn’t want to burden you with my stupid mental issues”. You admitted, tiredly listening to the beating of his heart.

He shushed you, shaking his head at the last part. There was nothing ‘stupid’ about you, especially not something that hurt you to this extent. You were never a burden to him, and it tormented him that your demons had placed that idea in your head for so long without him noticing.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered into your ear. Despite his reassuring words his voice quivered with anger, directed not at you but at the world and all the assholes that inhabited it. He knew you blamed yourself for your depressive states, but Joker didn’t believe you were the sole cause for a second. He speculated it was a lifetime of blaming yourself for family, fake friends, and other inconveniences, internalizing the blame instead of accusing those who were really responsible. It made his blood boil, and he bitterly wondered if he would start laughing uncontrollably at it all. How dare they show you so little mercy, leave you so empty and tortured and sad that you felt your only option was to close yourself off and suffer in silence? How dare these worthless, scummy, civilized people, break you like this? He had to physically bite his tongue to stop from voicing these thoughts aloud; you were still in a very vulnerable state and needed love and reassurance, not a furiously possessive bodyguard. He’d save that for another time. For now…

“Thank you for trusting me like this,” he muttered against your cheek after he had calmed himself down, and you nearly broke down a second time.

“Why are you thanking me?” You asked, because the thought of your clown loving you so much just didn’t make any sense to you right now. Not while the remnants of hatred and insecurity still lingered in your mind and body.

“Arthur, I should be thanking you, why-”

He shushed you promptly with a soft peck at your lips, letting his painted ones linger there for brief second so he could whisper a gentle “look at me”.

You shook your head stubbornly, ignoring his order, but Joker was having none of that. “Sweet thing,” he offered again, his voice absolutely heavy with concern but also intense with determination. “Look at me. Don’t make me ask you twice.”

He had a feeling the dominating nature of his tone might make you comply, and sure enough, your eyes shyly peeked up at him through wet lashes. His piercing eyes bore deep into your soul, captivating your entire existence so you couldn’t look away. It was the first time today that you had actually looked at him, and you were utterly devastated to find that his eyes were faintly puffy and unforgivably red, just like yours. Your eyes followed the trail of a single blue drop of paint that went down to his painted smile, but before you began crying all over again, he put a finger to your lips and shook his head. This isn’t about me.

“Thank you,” He praised, knowing you would finally listen to him and hear what he had to say. You were completely at his mercy, and mercy was exactly what you were getting.

“Your pain is my pain, and my pain is yours. If I… isolated myself away from you when I needed you the most, would you be ok with that?” It was a fair question. You shook your head no.

“Then how can you push me away for the same thing?”

You didn’t have an answer, but luckily for you, he had asked it rhetorically.

“All I want is for you to be happy… and safe… but also to… understand, that I would do absolutely everything for you. Your sadness is not a burden to me. Never think that.” His voice was hushed and serious, his eyes looking for any sign of disagreement. There was none.

“Do you understand?” He asked, desperately hoping you did. You nodded.

“Repeat it then.” He said, and although you felt it was childish, you didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Obediently, you complied to his request.

“You want me to be happy.” You mumbled shyly, and Joker gave you an encouraging kiss to your cheek, urging you to continue.

“You want me to be safe.” Another kiss, sloppier this time, and you felt a smile begin to tug at the corner of your lips.

“You would do anything for me, I am not a burden, and I should never think that.” Kiss, kiss, kiss.

“I understand.” You said finally, and Joker rewarded you by attacking your whole face with painted kisses, purposely avoiding your lips so he could hear the delightful sound of your surprised squeals and laughter. Finally after what seemed like forever, you felt all the sadness and stress of the morning melt away at last, and although a small part of you knew it would one day come back, for now it was nowhere to be found.

“I love you,” he cooed, and gave you a smile so sweet you couldn’t help but smile back.

#joker x reader #joker x y/n #arthur fleck x reader #joker imagine

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tarlosbuddie · 4 years ago

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CapSwap - Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Summary of the fic: Bobby and Owen exchange their station and team for show called CapSwap produced by Taylor Kelly.

Chapter summary: New captain, new rules. Owen Strand arrives at the Station and the 118 is ready to have get to know him and to have some fun.

Word Count: 2478

Chapter: 2/?

Hanging banners has been a tradition in the 118 since Chimney, Hen and their former teammates hanged one to congratulate Bobby on winning the bet his first month here. They have had so many captains quitting after a few weeks that they wanted to celebrate, mostly by pranking him. So, before he arrived, they used the biggest ladder they could find and hung a white banner that read “You’re still here!!” and threw him a bunch of confetti as he walked in. Buck got his first one a few months only after he arrived. He came for his shift the day after being fired and the red letters formed the words “You’re not fired! (yet)”. It was one of the first times that he felt like it was a real family. Chimney had a few ones too, the most recent one was from when Bobby came back from his suspension and it read “Your reign is over Interim Captain Han”. It was Eddie’s idea. He knew Buck was on sick leave but he filmed the whole thing to cheer him up. They bought enough cakes and banners to be known by the local stores at the point.

This time, Chimney comes to work early, with the biggest smirk on his face. He is not about to break the tradition, especially with everything being caught on camera. Taylor and her crew are getting ready and Chimney waves at them.

“You guys don’t wanna miss this.”

“Get the camera ready.” She orders her team. “I need a strong clip for the promo of the show.”

Buck and Hen are already next to the ladder, ready to hang what Chimney always described as their best one yet.

“You’re sure it’s a good idea to prank the new captain?” Eddie asks. Taylor directs the camerawoman to film his reaction as she starts taking notes in her little notebook. “Maybe he’s not as cool as Bobby is” the firefighter adds.

The second person directs her camera toward Chimney who’s grinning. Taylor circles his name in her notes, hoping that by the end of the month, she will get the juicy reason behind his nickname.

“Trust me, when you’ll see this, you’ll know he’s not really shy,” Chimney promises.

“Okay Eddie, now move your pretty ass on that ladder,” Hen says.

Both Eddie and Chimney climb the ladders on opposite sides of the banner. Buck is not allowed to do it anymore since he proved he’s not capable of hanging a banner straight. So he just stays behind Eddie, having his back from the bottom of the ladder where he thinks about Hen’s comment. She is right, he can’t deny that.

The banner is a lot heavier than the ones they usually buy. Chimney insisted that it must stay rolled up until Captain Strands arrived. They climb the stairs, eager to start their shift. They all wait on the balcony, the oldest holding on the strings of the banner.

A car finally arrives, and Taylor keeps one of the cameras on the crew when she directs the second one toward the car. She has seen pictures of him and she picked him for her reason, the man looks perfect. She knows the public will love him and she’s counting on him making a grand entrance.

Owen gets out of the car, with his Austin Fire Department jacket as she requested in the contract. She was not expecting him to wear such a fit white tee-shirt underneath but she appreciates it. It would look great on the promo. He doesn’t bother to take his sunglasses off, he only moves them down a little to wink at the camera she asked them not to look at. She can cut it off, but she is not sure she will want to when she will check the footage.

He makes his way toward the inside of the house. He is about to take up the stairs when he hears whistles coming from the balcony.

The banner unfolds as he walks under it. It’s a huge picture of him from a firefighter calendar, wearing his NYFD pants, with the suspenders touching his bare chest. The text on the banner reads “Welcome to the 118 Mister December 2003.”

Everyone is laughing, including the man staring at a shirtless picture of himself taken 17 years ago. He runs toward the stairs to introduce himself. One of the cameras follows him when the other is on the opposite stairs.

“Welcome Captain Strand,” Eddie says first. He stands straight and shakes the captain's hand. The other members do the same, and Owen memorizes everyone’s favorite nickname. Chimney is the last member of the team to introduce himself.

“I’m Chim-” he starts but Owen cuts him.

“Mister April 2019. I’m guessing you’re the one I owe that great surprise to?”

“Huh, yeah.” He answers.

“Can one of you show me my office and the nearest shower please? I just spent the best part of the weekend in my car and I would kill for a shower, and a coffee.”

“You drove here, Captain?” Eddie asks.

“I was not gonna miss an opportunity to take a road trip to our beautiful country.”

“I’ll give you a tour” Eddie offers.

- -

Owen is taking the longest shower, so the crew decides to rest. The cameras are off, or at least off their faces so they can take a break. They are all sitting on different couches and there is still a free one when Eddie arrives toward his friends with a bowl of popcorn. Taylor walks toward them with a gentle smile on her face and Eddie walks faster to arrive before she does. He hurries up and sits next to Buck on the couch. It’s just more convenient to share the popcorn with his team, he tells himself while he looks at Taylor who’s sitting down on the last couch.

They are eating in silence, not daring to speak while she is here. Buck offers her some popcorn but she politely refuses. She looks even more uncomfortable than they are. Hen notices and invites her to the kitchen.

“Do you want a coffee?” she offers. “It’s bad but it will keep you awake for a long shift.”

“Yes, please,” Taylor answers shyly. “I know you guys all hate me. But I’m just trying to do my job.”

“We don’t hate you, girl,” Hen replies. “We are not fans of having cameras around though.”

“I thought Buck would be the one hating me after what happened between us.” Taylor says. She looks down at her coffee mug, taking one sip and confirming what Hen told her, it really is a disgusting beverage.

“Buckaroo is a golden retriever. I don’t think that boy is capable of hating someone.”

“What’s the deal between him and Eddie?” she asks while turning to face the couches where the three boys are chatting. Eddie is throwing popcorn in the air for Buck to catch them with his mouth. “I feel like he’s gonna murder me.”

“He’s just having Buck’s back,” Hen says. “We should go back to the boys before Buck chokes on a popcorn or something.”

They walk back toward the couchs, grimacing as they drink their coffee. Taylor explains some ideas she has and then she tells them that they will turn the cameras back one while they talk about Owen. She sits somewhere off camera and directs her team to start filming.

“So, what do you guys think about the new captain?” Buck asks. It’s not his natural tone and he has to force himself not to look at the camera. But then Eddie starts speaking and Buck has something more interesting to look at.

“He seems nice.” Eddie simply says.

“It’s hard to judge a book by its cover” Hen answers.

“We all did it with Eddie on his first day” Chimney says. Buck takes a handful of popcorn and sends it on his eldest friend who’s happily catching half of it with his mouth while the rest ends up on the couch. “What? I was talking about Hen’s comment, not about your jealousy.”

“Okay, first of all, I wasn’t jealous,” Buck clears, shifting a little on the couch to look more at Eddie. He can feel his face turning red from remembering that day. “And second, we were talking about Captain Strand.”

Eddie chuckles and adds “The man seems okay, we should give him a chance.”

“You okay Buck?” Chimney asks. “You look like you’re praying for an emergency right now”.

“Huh. I.” He starts, but Owen is finally out of the shower, wearing another tee-shirt that compliments his body. Buck wonders if this man already took a DXA scan to measure the fat in his body. He stands up and walks toward Owen.

“I think this is for you, Captain” Buck says. He holds an LAFD blue shirt, with the Strand name written on the metal name tag on the pocket.

The captain puts his long sleeves shirt on with the help of his youngest team member. He read a detailed file about these people but he still doesn’t know them like he knows the 126. He chose his entire team, learned to work with them and even though the idea of the show seemed interesting, Owen misses his team.

“So” Owen starts, he claps his hand and takes an enthusiastic tone. “Let’s get to know each other a little.��

“What would you like to know?” Eddie asks first.

“Come on, guys, this is not a job interview. I just wanna get to know the people who I’m working with.” Owen says. They all look at each other, it’s like the first day of school and no one wants to be the first to introduce themself to the new teacher.

Buck lets himself fall back on the couch and sights dramatically. He wouldn’t know where to start. So much has happened to them lately. Every person in this room could use some serious therapy and there’s a lot you can’t tell a person you just met. So how can the 118 introduce themselves without talking about all of the trauma around them?

“Okay, I’ll start” Owen says when it becomes clear that no one else would. “I’m from New York. I’ve been a firefighter there for two decades.”

“So, you were there when…” Eddie starts asking.

“I was.” Owen answers briefly before continuing his introduction. “My son and I moved to Austin a few months ago. He’s a firefighter in my station too. He’s about your age, Buck. Does your captain have kids?”

“You mean besides Buckaroo, here?” Chimney jokes.

“Bobby’s not my dad.” Buck pouts. He looks at Eddie, hoping he would take his defense but his friend just holds his hand up and pretends to zip his mouth shut.

Hen laughs at the three boys and answers Owen’s question “His wife has 2 kids.”

“Oh she remarried too. I have something in common with his wife. Do you guys have kids?”

“My wife and I have a son and we are fostering a baby girl,” Hen says.

“I have an 8 years-old son.” Eddie answers.

“His name is Christopher,” Buck adds, holding his phone up to show Owen the picture of Eddie and Chris he has on his lockscreen. “He’s the smartest kid!”

“Hey!” Hen cuts, pretending to be offended.

“I'm sure Denny and Nia will grow up to be as smart as Superman.”

“Are you two…” Owen starts. He felt like he might have missed some information in his files.

“Oblivious” Chim whispers and Hen laughs.

“Buck is helping me a lot with my son. Christopher loves his Buck.”

“And you, Mister April? Do you have any kids?”

“He’s dating my sister” Buck answers for him “So if he ever knocks her up, I’d better be the first one to know.”

Chimney almost chokes on the food he’s eating. Hen gently pads his back. He tells her everything, even the things Maddie made him promise not to talk about. She is his best friend and he can’t keep big news to himself. So she knows Buck won’t be the first one to know about the Hans’ new secret.

“You are dating his sister? Family dinners must be interesting.”

“She’s a 9-1-1 dispatchers. So you might get to talk to her while you’re in L.A.”

“Okay, bonding time is over for now.” Owen declares. “Probie, you start cooking while the others clean the rigs” he orders.

“Huh, probie?” Eddie asks when he sees his Captain looking at him. “My probation period ended last year.”

“According to your files, you’re the last one who arrived, which in my eyes, makes you a probie” Owen half jokes. He knows he misses his probie, and he’s probably trying to find a replacement for them. Judging by Chimney’s and Buck’s laughs, he knows the nickname is gonna stick for a while.

“Huh, the Cap was usually the one cooking.” Eddie says hesitantly.

“My house, my rules. Everyone takes turns in my house.”

“Then you’ll probably talk to my sister soon Captain, cause we are definitely going to call dispatch to report the entire house suffers from food poisoning.”

Everyone but Eddie takes down the stairs to clean up the trucks. Eddie looks at the kitchen, terrified. Even his kid that never complains about anything told him that he can’t cook. He doesn’t want to poison his captain on the first day. And the show is gonna be broadcast on national television, his whole family is gonna know what an awful cook he is.

The alarm goes off and puts him off his misery and he runs down the stairs. The team was already cleaning the truck so they climbed before he could even get to them. He’s the last one to arrive so Owen ends him the key.

“Heard you can’t cook” Owen says and everyone pretends they didn’t say a thing while they were cleaning the rig, “but I hope you can drive, Probie.”

Buck and Chimney’s phones buzzed from the back seat. Hen looks at the both of them, assuming it might have something to do with Maddie since they both got a text at the same time. She forgot her phone at the station, like she always does. Buck shows her the texts they received. It’s from a new whatsapp group they’ve all been added to.

Unknown Number: How’s the new cap treating you?

Unknown Number: Please, go easy on my dad.

Unknown Number: Yeah, we kinda like the old guy.

By this point, they’ve all guessed what this group chat is about but they get the final confirmation when they receive a picture of 5 firefighters doing funny faces while Bobby has his back turned.

Unknown Number: Thanks for lending us your Captain for a month. We'll try not to drive him crazy!

#Emilie writes #owen strand #evan buckley #eddie diaz #howard han #hen wilson #taylor kelly #prodigalleverage #captainstennerstar #userbeff #tell me if you want me to stop tagging you in this #CaptainSwap #(my english is not perfect I'm sorry!!)

32 notes · View notes

kingkatsuki · 5 years ago

Note

Bakusquad reaction to reader being obsessed with reality tv shows

I loved this request omg! I based this off a show called Love Island which is my absolute guilty pleasure I’m ngl.

I did these as x reader pairings I hope that’s okay! I wasn’t sure if you wanted platonic.

Sero

Doesn’t like a lot of the shows you watch, but reluctantly watches with you anyway because it gives him an excuse to spend time with you.

Really just watches them so he can cuddle you the entire time. Wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close as you watch TV.

He loves how excited and animated you get when you watch them, shouting your feelings at the TV.

Really he doesn’t care what’s going on in the reality show or who wins or whatever. He just enjoys spending the time with you and seeing how happy it makes you.

You’ll probably have to explain to him whats going on because he doesn’t always watch with you and misses half of whats going on.

He’s more interested in spending time with you when the show is over, but he’s happy to cuddle you while you watch.

Mina

The MVP when it comes to watching reality shows.

Organising both your dates and days together around when your favourite shows are on so you can try to watch them together.

Favourite place to watch is in her room so you can both cuddle together without any distractions so you don’t miss anything.

She’ll text updates for each episode if you’re not able to watch the latest episode cause you’re busy or working/studying.

Sending each other gifs for reactions in conversations because.

Constantly gossiping over your favourite person or couples.

Kirishima

Best guy to have whenever your reality shows are on because he doesn’t care what’s on he’ll quite happily watch them with you.

Especially when it means he gets to cuddle you.

Takes a real interest in your favourite characters or ships, even starts developing his own favourites too.

Often he’ll set it up so you can watch the show together in his room because it means you can cuddle together in private without any distractions.

Gets just as excited and emotional as you when you’re watching together and it’s honestly so cute to see him shouting at the screen. “HOW COULD YOU BREAK TOMMY’S HEART?”

Give this boy cuddles because he’ll need them after this emotional torture!

Rest of the Bakusquad tease him when they find out he’s been watching all the girliest/cheesiest reality shows with you but he doesn’t care. It’s manly to take an interest in things your s/o enjoys.

Bakugou

Don’t fucking talk to him about it

Please, just don’t.

Bakugou literally has no level of care and he won’t even pretend to.

Refuses to watch any of the shows with you and he’ll flip if you even try and change the channel to one while he’s in the room.

“You’ll lose brain cells watching this shit.”

Bakugou will genuinely wait until the show is over before he flops down on the couch beside you.

Literally, end credits will be rolling.

Sometimes he catches the “tomorrow night” headline which shows clips from the next episode and he’ll provide a commentary.

Usually “look at these fucking idiots.” “Dumbasses”

Taps your forehead with a finger after. “Katsuki, what are you doing!”“Just checking your brain is still alive.”

Only reality show he’ll ever watch is probably something involving Gordon Ramsey because he likes cooking and he likes that he’s an asshole to people- Bakugou finds it hilarious~

Kaminari

Loves that you love reality shows, because he loves them too!

More than happy to cuddle with you on the couch while the shows are on.

If it’s a boring episode during the breaks he ends up distracting you with kisses, but if it’s been a good episode you spend the entire ad-break gossiping.

After each show he’ll lay with you and search through the shows hashtag, reading out the funniest tweets to each other.

Constantly sending memes about the show to you, either ones he’s made or ones he’s found online that he thinks you’ll enjoy.

“It is what it is,” (if you know you know) 👀

1K notes · View notes

winetae · 7 years ago

Text

⇾ city of stars | 01

⇁ female reader x yoongi ; female reader x taehyung

⇁ drama, slight angst || hollywood!au, actor!bts, enemies to lovers

⇁ 5.1k

. . .

When your childhood sweetheart packs his bags to pursue his dreams in the big city, the two of you promise to meet again once you’ve both become successful. Years later, you find yourself running to and fro auditions, desperately trying to make ends meet, while his face is plastered on every giant sized billboard in town.

↳ or; no one ever said the road to success was easy

a/n; OR a new short series literally no one asked for

+ inspired by the movie la la land (2016) and the anime skip beat (2002) “mama didn’t raise no weak hoe, you gonna push it” – sassi’s words of wisdom and also the reason i finally finished this;; ily !!!! this is for u

A beginning and an end—these moments bookend all your shelved romances.

Although the denouement may often vary—tears, a broken picture frame, a kiss—the origin story remains, for the most part, the same. But contrary to any of your previous encounters, Min Yoongi disrupts the familiar formula of exchanged hellos and awkward pleasantries.

Maybe it starts like this:

an ugly brown stain on your new white blouse, one iced caramel macchiato wasted.

In the movies, the guy offers his number and a free lunch to make up for his clumsiness, or gives up his hoodie to cover his mistake. The lead finds his efforts to earn forgiveness endearing, and soon enough, one date becomes two, two eventually turns to six. Somewhere along the way—between date number nine and eleven—he musters the courage to profess his love with a kiss, under the sleek blanket of a starry sky.

But this is not the movies, you are reminded, as the cold beverage clings to your skin and shirt unpleasantly.

“Motherfucker!”

It is not the most eloquent start, either.

You hope the sheer force of your glare has the power to pull an apology from his lips, but he stays still—completely indifferent to your plight.

“You should pay attention to your surroundings,” he drawls, unmoved.

Your immediate reaction is to scowl, brow creasing with indignation. If this had been any other day, you would have attempted to laugh it off because you’re no stranger to accidents. But today is D-Day: the start of pilot season and also your chance at finally landing a substantial role, something with more visibility and depth than the cheerleader #3 background character you’ve always been relegated to in the past. Today is supposed to be your ticket to stardom—the prized opportunity for your talent to finally bloom on center stage.

But one glance down at your worn-in wristwatch and panic grips you, dousing you in a sheen of cold sweat, much more unbearable than the spray of caffeine that’s still dripping down your shirt.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out this blunder will affect the rest of your day. You have two casting calls to attend from noon to four and there is absolutely no way you have any time to grab a change of clothes, especially if you factor in the perpetual traffic that clogs up the city streets. Your stress level is already at an all time high, nerves taut; the stain does nothing but add on to the overwhelming queasy feeling that swells in your gut like a balloon ready to burst. How are you supposed to impress the casting directors when you look like a slob? You can already imagine the offended expressions judging you before you even have time to open your mouth and deliver your well prepared monologue. A sense of utter failure stabs you in the chest and the high hopes you had for the day come crashing down in an instant.

You’re well aware at how much your future depends on how well you do today and the thought that one stranger and a cup of coffee could compromise this opportunity is enough to frustrate you to the point of tears. Maybe if your life was a romantic comedy, the scene unfolding in front of you would take a turn for the better. In such a clichéd scenario, you would expect the heroine to experience the Love at First Sight story archetype and throw away her dreams to chase after her soulmate.

But Min Yoongi is not your knight in shining armor. On the contrary, he is the furthest thing from the Humphrey Bogarts and the Cary Grants that grace the silver screens with their imposing presence and charming smiles. Instead of igniting your insides with desire, the mere sight of him and his lazy smirk makes your blood boil in anger. If you weren’t so attached to your daily dose of caffeine, you would have made sure to drench him in your gluten free pumpkin spice latte.

“Aren’t you going to apologize?” you snap, gesturing at the stain bleeding through the thin fabric of your shirt like a physical wound.

“Aren’t you? The coffee around this part of town is more expensive than a pack of cigarettes, y’know.” His derisive tone infuriates you further; it takes a herculean effort to not shove his empty cup of coffee up his ass.

Neither of you budge.

He stares you down and, had you been a lesser woman, you would have caved under the intensity of his glare. Maybe even cried a little. Still, you hold your ground, refusing to let yourself be intimidated by his scowl.

“You realize you owe me a coffee, sweetheart.”

If anyone else had delivered the line, you would have thought it to be a poor attempt at flirting. However, he utters the phrase with so much contempt, you almost reel back, struck down by the look he pairs with it.

“What?!”

In retrospect, you should have been more mindful of your surroundings but your mind had been occupied, too focused on revising lines that you already knew by heart. You’re aware the blame can’t be entirely shifted onto you, not when he had been so brusque in his movements, and distantly it registers that you’re both getting heated over nothing. Be the bigger person and let it go, your conscious urges you.

Pursing your lips into a grimace, you adamantly refuse to compromise. The only way your day can go from bad to worse, is if you let a short man with a mean looking face push you around like his plaything. Your aversion is justified, you argue internally.

“I have an audition,” you insist, tone clipped, waving around your script, penned and colored in pink highlighter, as if to prove your point. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Well aren’t you special.” The man sneers, eyes narrowing into slits. “We all have places to be, princess.”

“An apology would be nice,” you grit out, still refusing to back down. The use of pet-names by this stranger only irritates your further, itching at your skin like a insect bite you’re unable to soothe over. “But you’re so uncouth, I won’t waste my breath asking for one.”

“Ouch.” His lips curl into a mocking smirk, “well, maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll give the princess what she wants…”

You want to deck him. But your already limited time is running short, and another peek at the clock makes your fingers twitch around the cup of your drink, contents sloshing around, threatening to spill.

First impressions easily make or break a career. First impressions can also ruin relationships before they have the chance to begin.

Any other day, at any other time, you might have admired the slight glow of his peachy skin, or taken the time to appreciate how the lilt in his speech reminds you of home.

Instead, you flip him the bird and slide your sunglasses up the bridge of your nose so as to signal the end of the conversation. You feel extremely childish, like the star of a young adult drama series, but that doesn’t stop satisfaction from settling onto your features, only partly hidden by your knock-off Gucci shades. But your pleasure is short-lived; his disgruntled expression stays imprinted in your mind long after your argument ends, to your biggest dismay.

It’s funny how a mere stranger is able to single-handedly ruin your day.

Something heavy and uncomfortable sits in your chest, like a ball of lead, and your script trembles in your hand.

You’ve barely made it to your first audition, copies of your resumé neatly tucked under your arm and script clenched tight in your fist, but the memory of the morning’s incident makes it impossible to concentrate on your forthcoming task. This, of course, only infuriates you further, because the last thing you need is for that asshole to distract you from the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. You inhale slowly, counting eight beats before exhaling, trying your best to clear your mind and focus on your day’s objective.

6… 7… 8

You repeat the process until your clenched muscles slowly relax and your breathing evens out.

The role you’re auditioning for is a secondary character in a new TV series, set to debut in the fall on one of the main public channels. The scriptwriter has won half a dozen Emmys in the span of their short career, and from what you’ve been able to read of the script so far, the ratings will probably do well. There’s a good balance between the drama and the romance and to top it off, the dialogue is witty and gives you enough material to work with. For weeks, you’ve been preparing your role, even going as far as to memorize the other characters’ lines just in case they ask you to read for someone else at the audition.

Up until yesterday you were still buzzing with excitement, confident that this job was the one that would finally jumpstart your career. But now, your thoughts are flooded with incessant “what if’s…” that are slowly poisoning your morale. You can already picture yourself announcing to your parents that once again, you didn’t get the part you were pining for…

You hold in a sigh, not looking forward to that phone call. It’s hard to snuff out the smidgen of shame that grows with a pang in your chest whenever you speak to your parents over the phone. You know they patiently await news of your success, so you can’t help but feel like you’ve let them down when their inquiries are met with silence on your end. “The road to success is paved with sacrifices and failure,” your father reminds you often, as if sensing the heaviness that weighs down on your shoulders.

When asked if you have adjusted to the bustling city life, you will always answer in the affirmative. Although the reply is mostly meant to reassure your concerned parents, separated from you by miles upon miles, you can’t help but believe the words you reiterate every weekend over the phone. After all, you’ve been here long enough for the sun to dust your skin gold, freckles blooming on your exposed shoulders. You’ve long since memorized the street names and adjusted your schedule to take into account the constant traffic jams caused by the heavy congestion.

But it’s during times like these, when you’re sandwiched in an elevator with seven other girls your age, all with highlighted hair, professionally blow-dried to glossy perfection, that you realize how out of place you really are. You hug your handbag to your chest in an poor attempt at concealing the obvious brown splatter down your front. From the corner of your eye, you see someone raising their eyebrows in disdain, their expression visible in the elevator wall’s reflection.

She coughs, the sound catching everyone else’s attention.

“You’re auditioning dressed like that?” her voice drips with faux sympathy and immediately embarrassment colors your cheeks.

Remarks like this are to be expected, you suppose, but that doesn’t mean you’re insensitive to the comment.

But before you have time to formulate a retort, a musical chime alerts you that you’ve arrived at the audition scene. Everyone files out and you shuffle after the rest, handbag still clutched to your chest like a physical shield.

You’re told that the auditions will be one-on-one and that your name will be called up when the casting directors are ready. Sitting down in the waiting room only ramps up the angst that threatens to swallow you whole.

The clock ticks by slowly, every measure of time filled with mounting dread. What if you blank out and forget your lines? You run through every possible worst case scenario, despite trying to distract yourself by playing piano tiles on your phone. It obviously doesn’t work and you’re just about to turn off your phone in a fit of frustration, when it buzzes in your hand, alerting you of an incoming message.

A smile pulls at your lips when you realize your best friend, Tina, had sent you a text to cheer you on. You can almost hear her voice as you read out the text, her accent bleeding through the words that light up your screen.

tina [01:23 pm] Smile like fucking Julia Roberts even if they shit on you. If they see you sweat, it means they win, k?

tina [01:23 pm] You got this, bitch :)

Somehow the aggressive motivation encourages you more than any bouquet of expensive white lilies you could have received. She knows how much today means to you and how much you’re worked up over it. You tell each other everything, so she’s well aware that the desire for this job isn’t solely for monetary reasons.

Your dream of being an actress constantly surprises people when you tell them. The word actress evokes images of glamorous movie stars and fearless individuals who aren’t afraid to push their limits in order to create art. Your far from fearless. In fact, it’s taken years before you finally gathered your courage and left behind your family to pursue your dreams.

It’s not easy to lend your body over to your character, but it’s something you study relentlessly—pen stuck between your teeth to practice your elocution, spending your hard earned money to attend acting workshops on the weekends after your shifts end. You devote yourself to the craft, studying everything from Lee Strasberg’s method acting to the Chekhov acting technique. But all of it never seems like it’s enough. It feels like you’re stuck in a swamp, and no matter how much effort you put in, it’ll never be enough to move forward.

Suddenly, your name is called and you jump to your feet, adrenaline making your spine stand straight. You’re quickly ushered into the small room where the casting director and his assistant sit, hands clasped on the wooden table in front of them. Piles of papers are scattered in front of them, and you can spot headshots and crossed out names on a list.

At once, you can feel their serious gazes settle on the coffee stain that adorns the front of your shirt. You ignore the slight raise of their eyebrows and instead shoot them your best smile, the one you’ve long since perfected in front of the mirror in your room.

You present yourself, words tumbling out through your strained smile.

As you start to relax, muscles in your neck loosening, it’s easier to slip back into the role you had worked hard to perfect. Everything from your posture to the tone of your voice changes, and it’s as if you morph into an entirely new person.

At least, that’s what you let yourself think. You’re so into the part you don’t notice they’ve signaled for you to finish prematurely.

“Very well.” A hand comes up in the air à la Simon Cowell, effectively putting a stop to your dramatic speech. You resist the urge to check if he has protruding nipples to match.

You halt mid-sentence, mouth slightly parted, the rest of your prepared phrase stuck in your throat. Aware that you must look like a poor imitation of a goldfish, your jaw closes shut with an audible snap. You glance at his name place card, squinting at the small embossed lettering, before he commands your attention with a cough.

“So, tell me,” Neil continues, crossing his arms and leaning forward to stare you straight in the eyes. “What do you think love is?”

“What love is?” you parrot back, trying to mask your confusion. Is this a trick question of some kind? You fail to understand what answer he expects of you, so instead of answering verbally, you shift around on your feet. It’s hard to think properly when your entire career is on the line; one wrong answer and you can say goodbye to the role you prepared so much for.

“Yes. What is love to you?” He flips through your meager résumé, nodding in what could be either acknowledgement or dismal.

Sweat beads at your hairline while your entire body freezes up. What does he mean by “you”? You wonder if he expects you to answer in character or not… What would your character answer? According to the script, she’s a little airheaded, with no other purpose than comic relief.

“Love is…” you trail off, suddenly overcome with a memory you believed to be buried in the recesses of your mind. The words trigger something within you, and for a second you falter, the rest of the room becoming but a faint buzz of static in your ears.

“I have loved you.”

His words settle into your lungs like a cloud of smoke, making it difficult to breathe. You’re not sure what hurts the most—his apologetic expression or the way he delivers his confession with the utmost sincerity. The use of the past tense only finalizes the blow; the skin of your lips almost bleed from the force of your bite.

“Do you not anymore?” you croak, voice catching in your throat.

You hate crying in front of him. Years ago, whenever you scraped your knees after falling from your bike, you had always refused to shed any tears in his presence. It all flashes through your mind right then like a film stuck on loop— the packs of band-aids you carefully wrap around his blisters and the way his calloused fingers strum your exposed skin like his guitar in gratitude.

“Of course I do.” For the first time since your argument, he loses his composure, the harsh creases between his furrowed brows giving away how much the goodbye is affecting him.

A warm palm encloses your own and with a nudge at your chin, he forces you to meet his own gaze.

You wish he would release you from his hold—only because it would be easier to conceal the trembling in your jaw. He must feel the minute movements beneath the pads of his fingers; for a split second his mask falls, features stricken with grief.

“I’ll always love you,” he finally admits, the quiet confession ringing loudly in your ears.

The sentence echoes in the silence of the room, seemingly amplified by the memories of all the previous times he had whispered the same words, intertwined with soft kisses and familiar caresses. There’s nothing comforting about the admission now—not when it veils the finality of a goodbye.

“But?” you ask tentatively, readying yourself for another blow.

Your reaction, for some reason, seems to anger him, because his expression stiffens—muscles on his face crisping up, wall falling back into place. It’s always been difficult to read him when he closes himself off from you, but it never stops you from trying. You search his features, hoping to find some kind of sign that would clue you in.

“Please don’t make this harder than it is. I thought you, out of everyone in this godforsaken town, would understand me.” You blink, eyelashes damp with unshed tears.

“There’s nothing for me here,” he continues, softer now, glassy eyes not noticing the way you flinch at his words. “If I stay, I’ll never get anywhere. They say there’s more for me out there in the big city. And I know— I know it’s crazy and the competition is tough, but—”

There’s a pause as he gathers breath, your face still cradled in the warmth of his palm. From where you’re standing you can spot the beauty marks and scars that are sprinkled over his skin like tiny constellations. You think back to the time he was twelve and had nicked the skin right above his eyebrow during one of his baseball games. It all seems like a lifetime ago—before puberty had filled his gangling body with hard muscle—but you can still recall with vivid clarity the front he had tried to put up, his brow furrowed and jaw clenched. Much like now, you think.

“But I’ll never know if I don’t at least give it a try. I’ll regret it if I stay cooped up here, wondering every day why I didn’t swallow down my fear and pack my shit up. I know I’ll be miserable if I give up on my dream. You know that, right? It’s the only thing I have going for me. I’m not like you—I suck ass at math and science. I don’t have a future here so I’m going to where I actually have a chance.”

And maybe now is not the time, but it’s impossible to stop the envy from coursing through your veins. How lucky it must be to know what you’re good at and what you want, to be brave enough to leave everything you’ve known behind because you have something to chase after. Unlike him, you’re stuck at a standstill, with nowhere to run forward to and now the only thing grounding you home—gone.

“I have to leave, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you’re right.”

The last thing you want to hear from his lips is an apology. It’s a painful reminder that there’s a world outside the bubble you’ve built for yourself, that everything around you is changing and you’re the only one stuck in place, unmoving.

In the end, you opt for honesty.

“Love is a promise. It’s waiting for the right person, no matter how long it takes.” Your voice is resolute, even as you twiddle with a ring on your index finger nervously.

“Ah, I see… I don’t suppose you believe in love at first sight? Or soulmates?”

You run your tongue against the inside of your cheek, still unsure what sort of answer they’re looking for. It feels like a test but Neil’s voice and expression give nothing away. Either way, you must have taken too long to answer because he clears his throat and rearranges the papers on the table in front of him, his assistant writing something in red ink across your résumé.

“That’ll be enough, then. Thank you for your time.”

Maybe today just isn’t your day, you think grimly, gathering your things. The ring that sits on your finger catches the overhead light, shine momentarily blinding you. When will you be able to fulfill your end of the promise? Perhaps childhood promises are meant to stay in the past. You’re not sure why you stubbornly hold onto such words, anyway.

The fight that usually lights up within you deflates. Most days, you’re optimistic, but today for some reason, things just haven’t gone your way. Ever since the damned coffee cup this morning, things have only been going downhill. Of course, it’s not fair to blame everything on what was evidently an accident, but it’s easier that way.

“On a scale from one to ten, how bad did it go?” Tina asks, pouring you a generous shot of vodka. Since you don’t own any shot glasses, you have to pry the bottle out of her hand because any more and you would think she wants you dead. “One being they occasionally zoned out during your monologue…”

She scratches her chin, trying to recall the worst audition story. “Ten being told you’re too ugly to read for the part. Although I have heard some disturbing ass stories that are definitely a fifteen or higher. You know Drew Barrymore? Heard she was asked to give herself the finger during an audition.”

“What?” you splutter, frown marring your features.

“Dunno, it was supposed to be a sexy scene but there was no one to read with her, so she had to act it out herself. Pretty w-weird. So she sucked her own finger while she acted out the blowjob. Or maybe I’m not remembering this correctly?” Her words are slightly slurred together, shoulders raising up into a shrug.

“Um,” you choke out, after knocking back your drink in one gulp. “Okay, well, it didn’t get weird. I thought it was going well but he cut me off before I finished and then asked me questions. I guess I kind of blanked out? I didn’t know what to say, so he must have ended up thinking I’m too daft.”

“Isn’t your character supposed to be a little empty up there?” she points at her head, one manicured finger only slightly missing her eyeball.

You’re not sure she notices the look you shoot her way, but if she does, she promptly ignores it in favor of reaching for the vodka bottle.

“Slow down or you’ll puke all over the carpet. Do you really want to add to our stain collection?”

She huffs, pouting pathetically up at you.

“Spoilsport. Fine, let’s get drunk at a bar instead.” You’re convinced pretty easily because anything seems like a better alternative to spending the night cleaning up your friend’s vomit.

You almost regret your decision because grungy bars aren’t your thing. Empty plastic cups litter the ground and faded graffiti paints the walls in squiggly streaks, and, yeah—grungy bars are definitely not your type of scene.

It’s nearing the one o’clock mark and you repress the urge to (kindly) throttle Tina and her group of friends who have dragged you along with them. Instead of sitting on your couch re-watching one of your favorite movies, you find yourself squirming your way through a crowd of sweaty bodies, balancing four cups in your hands and doing your best to prevent the cheap beer from spilling.

An elbow juts out, bony angle jabbing your side, and some of the froth overflows in splatters, coating your fingers in its stickiness. You mutter out a curse that gets lost, drowned out by an off-key acappella rendition of a Britney anthem, while you’re left to salvage the damage. There is a pause for breath onstage, and someone yells “Take the mic away from him!” in the background. Suddenly, it is chaos. Everyone howls out their own two-cents and the performer onstage redoubles his efforts in his attempts to drown out the noise with his song.

For a reason you can’t quite understand, this place seems to be a hot spot for all the young, neighborhood artists; you spot a pair of guys in matching hoodies from the local film university at the bar, trying to pitch their idea to anyone drunk or interested enough to listen.

The cause of its unexpected success seems to be the open mic night event that is hosted once every week. Apparently, talent scouts are known to scour this area from time to time, and the promise of a success story attracts all the young and struggling artists, desperate to make it big. One of your friends has been raving about it for a little over a month, and even you’ve been curious as to see what it looks like. Your expectations fall short, but you won’t let that deter you from having fun.

Well, fun isn’t easily found.

Tonight happens to be open mic night, which means you’ve already had to sit through half an hour of drunken poetry. You’re all for the creation of art through self-expression, but, well…. The intoxicated ramblings are amusing at best (the highlight so far being a short skit involving a plastic hammer and a beach ball) but the night’s entertainment is as gripping as a B-rate movie.

You let out a plaintive sigh, swirling the ice cubes in your cup with your straw, zoning out yet again when the next participant shuffles onto the small makeshift stage. You ready yourself for another five minutes of nonsensical babble, but instead you do a double-take as your gaze falls upon the man adjusting the mic stand, his shaggy hair partly obscuring his face from view.

Instinctively, your blood runs hot—something ugly rears its head as soon as you recognize the same face you’ve been cursing since your failed audition.

You gnaw your straw, working your jaw until it becomes just another useless piece of plastic.

Although you’re not yet familiar with his name, you can’t forget the ugly lines of his face and the cold, dead look in his eyes. You don’t know why you thought he looked slightly attractive this morning because looking at him now only makes your lip curl in disgust. Why is his skin glowing? You’re convinced he must have dabbled glitter over his body to achieve such an effect. Who does he think he is, anyway? Kesha? Edward the vampire?

A nameless stranger—that is all he is to you at this point. And yet somehow he is also more than that.

Hate is a strong word. But as your attention focuses solely on his face, highlighted by the harsh glare of a spotlight, something within you boils to a tipping point.

A hush falls over the packed room as he clears his throat into the mic. Something about the sound bounces off the walls, makes several heads turn, snapping them out of their drunken stupor. As much as you want to tear your gaze from his figure, something about his presence on stage commands your attention. Unbeknownst to you, your breath is caught in your throat—anticipating his performance.

When he finally speaks, you can’t keep the astonished expression off your face. You’re not sure what you expect from him—maybe a dispassionate monologue on the benefits of caffeine or perhaps intoxicated words slurred together—but not this.

Impassioned dialogue falls from his lips, his face scrunched up. Words become bullets he fires into the crowd, his tongue twisting each of them with precision. You don’t know much about rap—only the try-hard images you see on television—but this is nowhere close to that. He quickly creates a story, raw emotion building with each stride he takes across the stage, and you’re unwillingly sucked into it.

“There!” Tina nudges, voice somehow catching your attention. You fight hard to detach your gaze from the stage. It takes a moment to orient yourself, still reeling from the performance that’s still going on, but your stare finally falls on the man your friend is pointing at, huddled in one of the corners of the room, nursing a half empty cup of amber liquid.

“That’s him! The guy from The Agency. He’s the one who comes here sometimes. I swear he was sleeping earlier but look! Whoa, this guy must be good to have gotten his atten—”

You tune her out, the anger that had simmered down now back in full force. Your day has officially gone to shit if the same guy from this morning is now being recruited by one of the best agencies in the world. Nope, this can’t be happening—you refuse to accept this as your reality. The many shots of alcohol blur your better judgement and you lick your lips in preparation for fucking war.

Slamming your cup down on the table with more fervor than needed, you rise to your feet, a single thought coursing through your mind.

Over my dead body, asshat.

#for my sunshine child #!!#bangtanwriters-net #kkreationsnet #kwriterskollection #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #taehyung scenarios #bts angst #kpop scenarios #yoongi #taehyung #also s/o to my sister who yelled at me to finish this :")

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