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flowerwrites06 · 3 years

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break my mind’s eye I — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings: drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution

Authors Note: finally i was able to conclude that bmme can be reposted!! please welcome back this precious gem of mine

The first time she saw was before one of her fashion shows. Small event compared to the likes of Gucci or Louis Vuitton but for her the biggest night of her life was about to happen. Unfortunately minutes before the show started, Belle got a call from her uncle to pick Taehyung up from their place and his tone sounded utterly bleak.

Walking away from a highly angered manager she rushed off to pick him up only to find him sitting outside on the porch in the cold wind, laughing a little to himself before swearing at no one. It was the first day Belle found out the things he had been taking.

Weed, ecstasy…she even found a small bag of cocaine hidden in his hoodie after getting him cleaned up.

“Where the hell did you get money for cocaine?” Belle tried to search his expression but Taehyung was too busy stumbling as he finally fell onto her bed.

“I know a guy. I promised to pay him back soon.” Taehyung mumbled turning to rest on his back, his limbs refused to stay still to a point where Belle started to get annoyed.

“Tae, how much do you owe this guy?” She asked, heart thumping a little knowing cocaine especially was not inexpensive and that mixed with other drugs…

His body being ruined was one heart-wrenching thing but she dreaded the amount of money this all cost.

Her brother stayed silent closing his eyes to let out a few breaths which caused her blood to boil even more.

Belle understood why Taehyung turned to something so putrid to relieve him of their recent troubles. There was a moment in time where she even thought to do so, maybe to ease some of the pain of they both went through. But it was getting out of hand.

The next morning Belle fixed him up a proper breakfast to distract him from taking another dose of the things he bought. Or was loaned anyway since he didn’t have a job or savings to pay for any of the products she found.

Taehyung didn’t even come to the table.

Instead as she walked towards the bedroom, she found him shirtless snorting something up his nose as he quickly threw his head back. Just hearing his sigh of relief made Belles’ stomach churn to near sickness.

Fuming, Belle grabbed whatever pieces of his stash she could find on the table and threw it in the bin pushing it away when he tried to savor anything that could be fished out. She saw his eyes widen so much that it almost seemed his eyeballs were going to fall on his hand.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Taehyung yelled, voice growly while his nose still had remnants of white powder dripping and his eyes bloodshot more than ever. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get shit like that?!”

“I don’t care, you’re done with this!” Belle stood her ground but kept her voice calm, her own glossy eyes fixated on his.

“You don’t fucking get it!” Taehyung winced, face contorting it looked like he was about to cry. “I need it, okay? And I got that shit from a guy that works in the Jeon Cartel!” He gestured over to the entrance of the apartment. “I can’t ask for anymore, I haven’t paid for anything.” He yanked at his hair whining under his breath like a spoiled child not getting the toy he wanted.

Belle shook her head slightly, tears forming at the brim of her eyes. “Tae…” Her voice grew shakier now. “How much do you owe them?” Her bottom lip quivered watching his chest rise and fall heavily.

He stayed silent averting his gaze.

“Taehyung.” Her tone quickly turned firm though her heart pounded painfully. “How much do you owe them?” Belle truly hated acting like the oldest between the two.

Taehyung used to take care of her every single day almost more than her own parents since they mostly focused on their oldest son because he had ‘a lot more potential’. Her stomach ached looking at all the potential slowly going down the drain right in front of her eyes.

“A few hundred…six…maybe seven…” Taehyung muttered trying not to look directly at her when he spoke. He probably knew exactly the kind of shock gripped her face and he was damn right.

Belles’ entire body turned cold, her fingers almost wanting to fish out the substances herself just knowing how much money it cost to get it. But she curled them up into fists wanting to look strong. “I don’t…know how it feels…I do know it hurts and I know why you’re doing this but…I can’t lose you too.” She whispered, vision getting blurry as a lump grew in her throat. “You’re my big brother, you’ve always looked after me.”

Taehyung bit down his bottom lip lowering his head in slight shame.

“Please let me look after you.” She pleaded in a whisper trying to search his expression, to see any sense of softness or thought.

Her brother sobbed a little, running his shaky fingers through his matted hair before nodding but still trying not to meet her gaze. “Okay.”

Belle let out a trembling sigh of relief, a tear escaping slowly down her cheek when she finally relaxed. “I have savings you can use to pay for the drugs you asked for.” She stated in a gentle tone this time as Taehyung stared at her, shaking his head.

“That’s your boutique money, you can’t—”

“Yes I can.” She forced a smile across her face to reassure him. “My boutique can wait. I want you to get better.”

Taehyung gulped down carefully padding over his sister before leaning his head on her shoulder at an attempt of a lazy hug. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered against the fabric of her sweater, a light whimper under his breath. “Thank you.”

The chill that spread through her body now warmed up as she wrapped her arms around her brother, feeling like the younger sister if only for a second. “Who do we have to pay?” Belle asked sniffling a little.

“My debts’ too high…” Taehyungs’ grip tightened around the girl. “…the guy who gave me the drugs tells me I need to go straight to the boss for questioning if I come back again.”

Oh god, Taehyung…what did you get yourself into?

Much to Taehyungs’ discontent, Belle insisted on coming with him with the envelope of the payment in her hand. She figured cash would be more believable instead of bank transferring especially since there was so much money piled up for just debt. Her older brother looked at her a little surprised at how well she knew how to maneuver these things. “Being in the fashion industry doesn’t just mean I draw and sew clothes, you know.” She replied simply as she drove the both of them to the address Taehyungs’ guy told him to go.

During the trip she wanted to mention how sneaky it was to just give them the address and not come along. But then again…this wasn’t exactly an ethical business to begin with.

Of course it wasn’t difficult in the slightest to find the Jeon household considering it was on the outskirts of the city. A large sandstone colored mansion with vines growing off of the sides and golden detail on the windows and pillars. They drove in front of the closed entrance where Taehyung told them his name and that he was being expected which thankfully caused the large gate to slide open with a painful screech sound.

Heart pounded so hard it could have ripped out of her ribcages, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her palms a little sweaty. The guards lined up in front of the door with their suits and shades making her homemade white floral dress look like peasants work. Even from here she could recognize that those uniforms were not made from some random ordinary designer. Even though the design itself was quite ordinary.

Taehyung walked out of the car first before Belle followed suit.

As soon as she walked out, one of the guards held his hand out.

“Ma’am, the boss requests that you give away your car in the duration of the meeting.” He spoke in a robotic tone.

Belle wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her directly since the shades were so dark but she gave him her car keys anyway. The feeling of emptiness eerily seeping through her already nerve-wracked body. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Taehyung must be feeling around all of this.

They were led into the mansion by three guards. The entrance was really just a big hall that stretched across the whole expanse of the building. When they passed a large open archway then Belle could see the furnished details; a few couches circled around in the middle of the large space with the fireplace behind the sitting, a bar on the far right with some maids tending to the dust while there were stairs on the left leading to the upper level.

Why would they want meet them personally for a few hundred dollars? It looked like a small loss looking at the quality of this whole building down to the outfits their guards were wearing.

Maybe it was more greed than the amount of the money.

“Please be seated. Master Jeon will speak to you shortly.” The same guard declared before moving back to his post and standing there like a statue.

Taehyung and Belle sat at the couch that faced the fireplace. Thankfully the maids were kind enough to turn it on since she hadn’t realized how cool it was going to be in the house. They offered them tea which they both turned down. An empty stomach meant less likely for her to throw up from the anxiousness. Taehyung, on the other hand, lost interest for food altogether barely eating anything but crumbs.

She noticed the hollowness of his cheeks and the darkness under his eyes. How long had it been since she saw a smile stretching across his lips? Taehyung used to be filled with light and passion beyond anything Belle had ever seen. He was the reason she pushed herself to pursue her own dreams despite the side-eyes from their parents. He defended her passion. He protected from unfair treatment always giving her shine he thought she deserved.

Now Belle had to repay the favor. She needed to encourage her brother to restart his path back to one that made him happy instead of one that slowly destroyed him to the core.

Footsteps brought her back out from her thoughts, eyes trailing over to the stairs. A tall built figure dressed in an all-white suit with a button-up shirt to match, loosely done up so his gold necklace could glimmer in the light. Belle noticed the gold cufflinks shimmering from his wrists. Hair styled somewhat neatly with a side part and strands hovering his eye when he moved, lips a rosy hue and his face looked for younger than she expected.

When people said ‘drug lord’ she imagined a stumpy old creep with similar attire except traditionally unkempt with facial hair and untrimmed chest hair that hung over their shirts.

Despite his pleasant appearance, Belle was not going to be blinded to the fact that this man thrived off of her brothers’ suffering.

The man finally met her gaze after only glancing a little at Taehyung before sitting down on the couch in front of them. Legs spread apart ever so slightly, he leaned back with one of his arms extended out. “Mr. Kim.” He spoke in a soft tone, eyes going back to her older brother now. “Do you recognize who I am?” He searched his expression.

Taehyung kept his head lowered but nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Who am I?” He pressed on like a father calmly scolding his child.

“M-Master Jeon Jungkook…” He muttered helplessly almost glancing up to meet his gaze but quickly looking down once again.

“So you do know…” Jungkook nodded, pressing his lips together. “Here I was thinking you consider me a joke. Taking bags and bags of my products while assuming I won’t try to track you down. Is that you what you thought of me?” His tone grew firmer.

Unlike Taehyung, Belle kept her head up, maintaining her gaze on the stranger. It seemed like Jungkook had a good eye for noticing when he flickered over to look at her instead.

“No, sir.” Taehyung shook his head frantically. “I-I just n-needed to get my money together.” He explained in a shaky voice not noticing that his precious ‘sir’ was staring at Belle a lot longer than she was comfortable.

Maybe he was waiting for her to duck her head down like her older brother.

The urge to do so was stronger than ever but Belle persisted. Until Jungkook glanced over at Taehyung again.

Her brothers’ fingers trembled violently at this point. Belle itched to comfort him somehow but she wanted him to try and face on his own to some extent. Coming here and sitting next to him was already being far too lenient but she couldn’t let him do this completely alone. Not when the healing process was so fresh and people like Jungkook would do anything to make sure he stayed addicted.

“Where’s the money?” Jungkook gestured towards him.

Belle took a small breath, placing the envelope on her lap onto the glass coffee table. “One of your men said he owed seven hundred.” She spoke up now trying to keep her voice as steady as possible even though her heart was beating out of control. “The envelope has eight just in case he wasn’t accurate.” A chilly feeling brushed over her body when her savings just sat there on the coffee table. Nothing but petty money for Jungkook but to her, it was the only way she could afford the vacant building in the city for her boutique.

“And you are?”

“His sister.” She muttered, glancing over at Taehyung who let out a deep sigh.

Jungkook stared down at the thick envelope for a few minutes with a raised brow. “Jongho…” He curled his fingers in towards a guard who quickly rushed over to stand beside him. “Please escort Mr. Kim to the second living room for a moment. I’d like to have a word with Ms…”

“Belle.”

“Belle…” The corner of his lip curled up before he gestured again towards the man called Jongho and he immediately led Taehyung away from them.

Belles’ heart raced seeing his helpless face looking back at her not sure if he was trying to apologize or if he was terrified of why they were being separated. “Why’re you taking him away?” She asked, being as polite as possible but her tightening fists told a different story.

“I’m not going to hurt him.” Jungkook murmured. He leaned in to rest his elbows on his knees, eyes searching her expression closely. “I thought it’d be better if I had a private conversation with a more steady minded person rather than your brother.” He nodded behind her.

Her brows furrowed glancing down at the closed envelope before staring up at him. “We got you the money, why do we need to have a conversation?” Belle’s voice was low just enough for only Jungkook to hear and no one else. Not that she could raise her voice even if she tried from how closed up her throat was.

“Because I’m honorable to an extent but I also hate people taking advantage of my kindness.” Jungkook shrugged lightly. “Your brother had been freely given all the products he consumed and he waited three months to give me my payment.” He let his sentence linger in the air to add more effect. “Three months of losing product and receiving no profit in return is not a risk I like making, Belle. Nor do I want to make it again.”

“So…what’re you saying?” Belle thought of the worst possible scenarios. Would they take Taehyung away and punish him? Or kill him? Was he being punished right now and Jungkook was just lying to prevent a scene? She watched his soft eyes trail up and down her form trying to be subtle but Belle caught it immediately feeling the urge to hide away into the couch.

“I’m saying the deal’s changed.” Jungkook declared in the most casual way like you would cancel a simple outing to the mall. “Look I can get money anytime I want to…you know that, don’t you?” He tilted his head a little searching her features. “I asked for this personal meeting on the basis of principle. Taehyung and many people like him need to understand that we stand by codes just as much as anyone. I’m not a money pig that just drools and accepts cash when it’s given to me.” He raised a brow.

Belle winced lightly, shaking her head. “Then why are we here? What do you want?”

Jungkook did nothing for a minute and gave her a soft smile. “Something he can take a little more seriously than cash…well—someone.”

Blood drained from her body from her aching head to her toes. Belle pierced into his smug gaze hoping…praying that he didn’t meant what she thought. The last thing she ever looked to be afraid of but now became the ultimate bane of her visit.

A visit thought to be quick and sweet with cash exchanged. How could she be surprised? These people wanted so much but still asked for more. What more could she expect from the man that took just to have the power to take some more? “Taehyung’s a good man.” She whispered. “He won’t do this again.”

“That’s what a lot of people tell me for years about their relatives or friends, Belle.” Jungkook murmured under his breath keeping the conversation to themselves despite the maids and guards standing around. “My grandfather heard it…my father heard it…every single time those people come back begging for more and then we get blamed for the dead bodies.” He sighed in slight defeat but she didn’t buy it in the slightest.

There was nothing noble about this request. If he were any other man gaining the audacity to say something like this, he would expect a hard punch on his nose. Except now it wasn’t just her own safety in question. Nor was Jungkook any ordinary man who could be taken by police or a punch looking at his build. “What am I supposed to do?” Belle murmured, heat flushing in her body making her more exasperated than grateful at the running fireplace.

Once again, a smile stretched across Jungkooks’ rosy lips. If it were taken out of context you’d think he was some sweet boy admiring something. But the reality was far from that lie. “You’re not going to be my prisoner, if that’s what you’re asking.” He smiled a little wider, eyes glimmering. “I’m not that evil.”

Debatable.

“You’re a lot more intelligent than you let on.”

“You just met me.”

“But I meet a lot of people…a little too many. So I tend to rely on first impressions and hope I’m right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“And if you’re wrong?”

He chuckled under his breath gesturing over to his guards. “They’re not there for decoration…and I don’t always negotiate like this. I’m just having a good day.” She saw his expression grow dark but the smile still remained making him look utterly sinister.

Visions of Taehyung tied to a chair, sobbing flashed across her mind making her mentally slap herself back to reality. She couldn’t look weak in front of him of all people. That’s what he wanted…for people to cower in front of him as he spewed his threats around to get everything he asked for. But denying him completely and storming out wouldn’t exactly be the smartest decision either considering she didn’t actually know where her brother was. The mansion was still mystery to her and Jungkook could easily hurt any of them as he so subtly stated with that stupid, fucking smile.

“So…what do you say, Belle? Do we have an accord?”

Taehyung was led back into the main living room, slightly yanking off of Jongho’ grasp and giving him a glare when he walked away. He looked over at Belle, her back facing him standing in front of Jungkook. “Belle?”

Belle looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile as she walked closer. She let out a sigh of relief seeing no sign of injury on the older male.

“Did he do something to you?” After the longest time, Taehyung sounded like an older brother again looking after Belle whenever she looked the slightest bit distressed. “What did he say?” He whispered.

She stayed silent, gaze lowered to look at his T-shirt before flickering up to force a smile at him. “It’s going to be okay.” Belle murmured. “He even offered to pay for your rehabilitation and get you back on your feet.”

Brows furrowed now gaining the urge to glance over at Jungkook but he couldn’t seem to stop searching his sisters’ expression. “Why would he want to pay for—”

“I told him to.” Belle gulped, smile fading away into a small frown.

“Belle, we can’t pay him back for all of that.” Taehyung held onto her bare arms feeling the cold skin underneath his.

She nodded. “Yes we can. He’s only asking for one thing.”

“…What?” He whispered.

Belle bit down her bottom lip, chin quivering a little before she smiled again even though her eyes grew glossy. “He wants me.”

Taehyungs’ heart plummeted making his whole body feel heavy. “No…” He shook his head, grip tightening around her arms as if she was going to disappear if he let go. “He can’t do that.”

“I agreed.”

“Belle!” It was more a loud whisper than anything but it managed to turn a few heads. “He’s going t—”

“I know what he’s going to do.” Belle rubbed his chest soothingly. “But this is the only way I can help you.”

“You have the money, why won’t he take it?” He gestured towards the envelope on the coffee table which now looked long forgotten.

Belle lowered her gaze. “Because he thinks you’ll just do it all again. He doesn’t trust you.”

“And you trust him?” Taehyung retorted causing heat to bubble up inside Belle.

“I trust you to do your part in this promise.” She tightened her jaw, wincing as the lump in her throat grew painful. “Unless you have a better idea to escape a pissed off drug lord then you will do this.” Tears flooded at her eyes threatening to escape but her gaze persisted on him. “Please promise me you’ll try to get better from now on.” Her lips quivered. “I didn’t know how else to help you. But now you need to help me. You need to heal and get back on your feet.”

Taehyung brushed against his fingers through the hair rested on her shoulder. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Belle shook her head as an attempt to reassure him but he didn’t look at all convinced. “I’ll be fine.” She smiled faintly, a few tears escaping down her cheeks which he wiped off gently.

“I’m so sorry…” He whimpered, fingers curling around her hair. “This is all my fault, I should’ve just come here on my own.”

“He would’ve killed you.”

“But you’d be happy.”

Belle chuckled sadly. “You really think I’d be happy if I lost you?”

“But you wouldn’t be here.” Taehyung side glanced over at the guards who looked completely unfazed by the whole ordeal while Jungkook had his back turned to them, gazing out into the garden outside.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” Belle wasn’t sure if that was directed at her brother or herself. Was this meant to be her big fork in the road? The path she was supposed to determine her whole life. Maybe her parents were right. Maybe she was amount to only one thing… but she’d be caught dead before she cowered begging before people like Jungkook. If he wanted her then he could have her. But he’d be an idiot to think she wasn’t going to use that to her own advantage one day. “We’re allowed to see each other so you’re not losing me, okay? I’ll be there whenever you need me.”

Taehyung sighed in frustration averting his gaze, boring holes in the back of Jungkooks’ head with his glare. “I want to kill him.”

“Then we’ll never get out of here.” Belle replied simply.

Finally Taehyung succumbed to his sisters’ wishes, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead before letting go, physically deflating as he was led out of the mansion by one of the guards.

One of them, same Jongho walked over to her. “I’ll drive him back safely, Ms. Kim.” He gave her a reassuring smile before following Taehyung out of the mansion.

The double doors closed blocking out whatever light that came from it leaving her empty.

“Taehyung will call you when he gets home. So you know he’s safe.” Jungkook spoke up now in a gentle tone but Belle kept her back to him. “And your personal belongings will be moved here in a few days.”

She licked her lips before lowering her gaze, letting a few silent sobs before wiping the tears away. “Where can I freshen up?” Belle looked down at her fingers seeing the light mascara smudges, trying to wipe at the corners of his eyes to wipe any traces away.

Jungkook seemed like he gestured towards one of the maids because a kind looking woman padded over and touched her on the shoulder.

Her grey hair wrapped up in a bun and the smile lines around her face showed when she gave her a sweet grin, making her look like the only person that seemed somewhat trustworthy in this building. “Let’s go upstairs, dear.” She held onto her arms and led her towards the stairs. “I’ll get some new clothes sent up as well.”

Belle didn’t glance at Jungkook but she could feel his gaze on her when she was led up the stairs to the now shared master bedroom.

Similar to what a hotel suite would look like, the master bedroom adorned a modern design with an opaque black curtains drawn to keep the room cool and ambient with the warm lights. A king-sized bed with classic white sheets with some gold detail matching the aesthetic of the whole mansion itself. There was a marble partition that had a small gap on the bottom with a modern looking fireplace on to keep the room warm, situated on the immediate left when they walked in.

On the other side of the partition was a desk with a closed laptop and some files. Another open archway on the right that led to a walk-in-wardrobe with lit up shelves that accentuated all the different shoes and shirts.

Upon walking through the archway into the wardrobe, on the right, there was the private bathroom just as big as every other small area in the monster of a bedroom.

Belle was led into the bathroom by the kind maid where she saw a shower that could have been the size of her laundry room, a sink just in front of it with a bathtub on the far end. The white bathtub contrasted against the grey marble floor with a large window that showed a forest-like view.

“It’s an illusion.” The maid explained as if to reassure her that her baths were not going to be displayed out into the world. “The Master asked for a glass case that held shrubs but the foggy forest is an intricate painting by one of the familys’ personal artists. He likes the feeling of being disconnected from the modern world when he’s relaxing.”

Normally the design would impress her greatly. The idea of having the illusion of a calm forest without the hassle of actually moving to one was genius and the greyish light gave the bathroom a relaxing morning feel. Right now however it made her feel more trapped than ever. Even the view outside was just an illusion in her new cage. Nothing felt solid and real at this point like Belle was a ghost floating around in a dream that never seemed to end.

“Your towels are over on the stand there, dear. I’ll have robes and a change of clothes brought to you outside soon.” The maid smiled patting her lightly on her arm. “Don’t fret too much, darling. I don’t think the master has any intention of hurting you.”

“It’s not him hurting me that’s making me nervous.” Belle smiled sadly, grateful that the woman even cared to reassure her somehow.

“Ah…” The maid smiled and nodded knowingly. “I’ll get you some of my special tea…it calmed me down on my wedding night.”

Belle’s heart sank seeing the woman smile at her a little sadly too. “Is the secret ingredient whiskey?” She tried to lighten the mood which successfully made the woman chuckle. Somehow seeing the way the woman helped her in her own way reminded her of why she was in this glass case in the first place. She remembered Taehyung smiling again, throwing away all the things that tarnished all the peace in his heart and being free. She needed to be strong.

“Not really but…I’ll see what I can do.” She whispered the last bit with a cheeky smile before turning on her heel to leave Belle in a few moments of solitary freedom at the very least.

It may have been dark by now.

At least when Belle peeked the slightest outside the curtained window, the sun had been dipping into the hills to give the sky a pinkish hue. Her heart pounded at the lack of notifications from her brother. Her body felt fresher now that she had a comfortable long white nightie with a thin robe to keep her arms somewhat cozy. But skin still heated up significantly with her anxiety.

Then minutes passed before her phone buzzed and her heart released a thousand sighs of relief seeing Taehyung’s name.

“Belle?”

“Yes it’s me.” Belle whispered with a biggest grin on her face from the sheer relief. “You went home okay? They didn’t hurt you?”

“No, no they were just… fine.” Confusion trailed in Taehyung’s voice. “That guy has way too much fucking power, they just dropped me off and left saying they’ll come back to drop me off at the rehab center. Normally his men tried to rough me up whenever they saw me.”

“That’s because they knew you’re the guy that doesn’t pay.” Belle cringed mentally hearing herself defend their actions but…she was a little too good at considering perspectives, she guessed.

“I guess…also I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking you if you’re okay.” Taehyung corrected but Belle let his words linger in the air for a moment.

Sitting in the luxury bedroom wearing a clearly quality robe with people working at her beck and call, in a first glance people would call her lucky. Digging deeper into the surface and seeing that Belle was manipulated into being in his position then people would call Jungkook a monster.

Was it only one of them? Was it both? Was it neither? Was this just a game that Belle had no choice but to play for a time until her brother got better? How far did Jungkook even think this through? Why was he so interested in manipulating Taehyung the most? Did he do this to every sister, brother or parent that came around? Did they even come this far?

“Belle, you still there?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay. I’m just sitting.” She quickly explained.

The thoughts crowded in her head making it ache but thankfully the maid—her name she found out was Nana—gave her a piping hot cup of tea apparently laced with some herbs that helped calm anxiety and nerves. It was an ancient herb given to young girls so they could go through their wedding night without having an anxiety attack or breaking down. Blowing away some of the steam, Belle took a few sips ignoring the bitter taste on her tongue.

“I don’t know what he wants yet but I think I have an idea.” Belle spoke solemnly.

“You really don’t have to do this, Belle.” Taehyung whispered desperately.

“We don’t have any other choice.”

“You could just come back home and I’ll just handle it.”

“You had three months to handle it.” Her voice grew firm quicker than she even expected but she kept her head cool. Silence ran on the other end of the line making Belle sigh to calm herself down. “We just need to keep our heads. We’ll be fine.” She didn’t mean to make her tone sound so dreary but this wasn’t exactly the cheeriest of moments in her life. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the fabric of her soft nightie trying to empty her mind for a little while. “I need to go, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay…Belle…”

“Yeah?”

“…I love you. Be safe.”

The lump in her throat grew again suffocating her when she forcefully swallowed it down. “I love you too.” Belle whispered before hanging up. Taking longer sips from her tea now, it took a few seconds for her feel her limbs loosen like ice melting near a fireplace. Her body cooled down from her heated anxiety to a comfortable warmth she could melt into without the worries of the troubles around her.

For a moment, she could close her eyes and relish in the new found relief wanting to silently thank Nana for providing her this cup of momentary tranquility.

The door opened with the familiar white-suited man walking in giving her a glance as he shrugged his blazer off. “Nana got you some clothes…good.” Jungkook muttered, walking into the walk-in wardrobe and placing his blazer back before taking off his cufflinks when he walked back in the bedroom. “Is it comfortable?”

“Yes.” Belle replied, brushing her palms across the smooth sleeves of the robe. She never worked with satin a lot but whenever she felt it under her skin it gave her the tingle of pure luxury. “I just spoke to Taehyung…he came home safe.”

“I told you he would.” Jungkook murmured, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulder before placing into a hamper for the maids to take care of.

Belle noticed the stencil like silhouette of a phoenix etched into the right side of his chest as he walked over to his side of the bed. “You kept to your word. Thank you.” Not that you deserve it but…common courtesy.

She caught a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while he unbuckled his belt and threw it on the floor.

“Do I sense a little bitterness, Ms. Kim?” Jungkook mused.

“Why? You don’t like a little bitter taste on your tongue?” Snakes must get used to it by now, she thought.

“I know you’re not a fan of me.” He stated the fucking obvious. “But you could say no anytime. I’ll just deal with your brother without bothering you again.”

Belle tightened her jaw, gripping onto the fabric of her nightie averting her gaze forcing a long silence to plunge into the room.

Jungkook finally sighed. “I didn’t mean that.” He muttered but Belle was mostly trying to focus back on the relaxation the tea gave her again. “Our accord is as solid any other contract so I’m not allowed to touch your brother…while you’re still with me anyway.”

“Is this how you get all your girls?”

He chuckled walking over and standing in front of Belle, forcing her to look up at him. “Would you be pleased if I said no?” Jungkook placed an index finger under her chin while his thumb hovered for a moment over her lips.

“Only if it’s the truth.” Belle replied simply, her knees melting into the surface of the bed.

Jungkook smirked moving his hands into her hair. “I don’t invite just anyone in my bed, no. But you’re not just anyone.”

“Why do you think that?” She asked as he slowly leaned in closer, fingers sliding down the crook of her neck letting the sleeves of her robe and nightie slip down with a mere touch.

“Because you were the only one brave enough to come this far.” He whispered pushing down the other side of her sleeves to leave her shoulders exposed. “Girls love the bad boys but never seem to understand what they’re asking for.” Cold fingers brushed against her collarbones, across her chest up her neck until he finally caressed her bottom lip with his index finger.

They want a fairytale. Beauty and the Beast. But eventually they find out that the Beast was never a prince in the first place. They realize that a mere kiss won’t break the curse.

“You know exactly what you’re asking for… don’t you?” Jungkook asked in a tone of a warm coo.

I’m not asking for this, Belle bit her tongue. But I do know what I’m getting myself into. What you gave me no choice but to get into. She stared at him determined to keep his gaze no matter how much she wanted to close her eyes. He wasn’t going to overpower her, not in that way. I received a beast instead of a prince…but you’re not getting any vulnerable fucking princess either. Keeping her eyes on his, she parted her lips and took his finger into her mouth barely waiting for Jungkook to make any move before she began suckling on it.

“Of course you do.” The mere action was enough of an answer for the male as his smirk grew darker. Jungkook took his finger away pushing down her nightie and robe further down until her breasts were displayed to him.

Belle was grateful for the warmth from the fireplace spreading through the room at his point. But in mere seconds Jungkook used his glistening finger to brush across her nipple causing it to stand erect almost instantly. A light gasp caught in her throat as she pressed her palms on the surface of the bed making her chest push out a little. When she threw her head back a little, he quickly took the opportunity to devour her lips, tongue pushing against her teeth which she kept clamp shut.

Long enough for him to get impatient and bite down her bottom lip a little. Then she allowed him to push through and explore her mouth. Jungkook knelt down but kept their lips locked as he sneaked his hands under her nightie, pushing the soft fabric, nails grazing against her skin causing a tingle down her spine.

Belle lifted a little to let him push the dress further up until he completely pulled both pieces of clothing off over her head. Before she could even comprehend her exposure, he picked her up a little and shifted so she could rest her head on the silk pillows. Her heart raced against her ribcages but she stopped being sure of why at this point, instead she thought about the herbs Nana gave her. Maybe thinking about how it can help would psychologically increase its effects? Stupid but maybe.

When she looked down at the male out of curiosity, she saw him discard his pants and boxers before climbing back onto the bed.

Belle kept her legs closed loosely before he pushed them apart, hands gliding down her inner thighs to her panties. His thumb pressed against the clothing right against her hiding nub making her jerk her hips a little at the suddenly awakened nerves.

He didn’t waste any time to hook the hem of her panties and strip it off her before dipping down in between her legs. His mouth feasted on her clit, tongue licking around her slit before sliding in teasingly slow and moving back to suckling on her bundle of nerves.

Her chest rose and fell as her eyes focused more on the ceiling, biting onto her bottom lip, light whimpers emitting from under her breath.

Jungkook released her clit with a pop sound before settling his hips between her legs. His already hardened shaft teased her slit a little more, wet sounds tickling her ears before she felt him stretch her out.

A moan finally erupted from her throat, clenching around him making him groan.

“It’s okay…” He whispered in her ear when she turned her head to the side. “Does it hurt a lot?”

Belle’s head felt like it was trying to find a straight line in a completely scribbled piece of paper. Her core ached for a moment. She felt Jungkooks’ thumb rub at her clit making her walls relax a little as she focused on the light wash of pleasure rushing across her lower body. Slowly she shook her head moving back to face him again. “No…it’s okay.” She whispered, meeting his gaze when he still wasn’t moving. Leaning up she pressed a shy kiss on his lips.

It took mere seconds before Jungkook began moving in and out of her, still slowly rubbing circles on her erect clit.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, their foreheads pressed against each other as he grinded into her slightly nudging the spot that sent sparks through her body.

His pace quickened, both hands pressed down on the surface of the bed as he thrusted into her in a steady pattern letting the sounds of skin slapping linger in the air.

Belles’ skull felt numb, her mind locked up all her thoughts and allowed her body to succumb to his consistent pounding. Head threw back against the pillow as he chased his own orgasm, her own juices spluttering onto his lower belly. She hummed lightly under her breath which seemed to encourage Jungkook to go faster until the bed started to shift.

Jungkook lowered down a bit more, pressing wet kisses on her neck, trying to muffle his moans against her skin as his thrusts grew sloppy.

Belle felt a gentle wave of pleasure before Jungkook quickly pulled out with his release splattering all over her belly. She let out a small sigh, rubbing circles on her clit again to prolong her small climax before her bundle felt too sensitive to touch making her legs close up again. She watched the other male catch his breath still kneeling in front of her before crashing on the space beside her.

Whatever piece of physical satisfaction swirled around her body melted quickly into her chest clenching painfully. It didn’t take too long for her to notice all too clearly what spilt on her skin but Jungkook had already pulled out a wash cloth and wiped her clean. The traces still burrowed in her mind now.

Jungkook threw the wash cloth away before resting back on the bed again, shutting his eyes for a moment. Both of them catching their breaths and finally dwindling back to their fucked up reality.

“I can’t break this deal.” He murmured looking up at ceiling similar to her. “If I do, I’ll have to kill your brother.”

Belle swallowed the lump in her throat, a small tear spilling from the corner of her eye. “Am I supposed to be your sex toy until you’re done with me?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not allowed to have…sex toys.” Jungkook sighed. “There’s another reason why I changed the deal.”

She finally turned her head to face him, brows furrowing. “What did you not tell me?”

The male took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. “My uncle and aunt have been forcing me to get married to someone of their choice. It’s gotten so pressing to a point where they’ve paid them to seduce me so it doesn’t look arranged.” Jungkook explained, running his fingers through his hair before resting on his head on his arm. “My rejections have stopped working. So I thought I should get a courtship with someone I choose before I’ll have to succumb to my uncle and aunts’ wishes.”

Belle could practically hear her own heart slamming out of her ears, more tears burning in her eyes. “So… you just…saw me and decided that you were going to make me your wife?”

“Did you want me to ask for your parents’ blessing or something?”

She averted her gaze back to the ceiling. “My parents are dead.”

“…I didn’t—”

“Of course you didn’t fucking know, we don’t know each other.” Belle inhaled a shaky breath before closing her eyes to calm herself down.

You are a fucking beast.

“Darling I gave you a chance to turn back.”

“So you wouldn’t hurt my brother.”

“Your brother was already dead if he kept going the way he did.” Jungkook winced a little before sighing in frustration. “I told you I’m not trying to be evil. A lot of people look at me when they want to see power. The world I live in chews up people who are too merciful.”

“My brother is innocent.” Belle sobbed lightly, forcefully biting down her bottom lip.

“He’s vulnerable to what I offer. Did you really think he was going to stop taking drugs just because he paid the money?” Jungkooks’ question lingered in the air for a while. “Correction: just because you paid the money.”

“So you want me to be your wife…” She swallowed thickly. “…or you’ll kill my brother.”

“When you say it that way, I do sound evil.” Jungkook pondered. “But yes. Everything else in the deal still stays the same. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“Except leave you.” Belle corrected.

“Except leave me.” Jungkook confirmed in the most casual fucking tone ever.

Belle did nothing but stay silent and turn to her side, back facing him making the male sigh in slight defeat. She felt his hand on her shoulder squeezing slightly as if it was going to give her any kind of comfort.

“A lot of marriages can be worse than this, you know.” He squeezed it again. “You’re going to have to work with me for this to run a lot smoother, yeah? You did so well today.” Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “I promise it won’t feel so bad after a while.”

She knew now. Kissing the beast didn’t break the curse.

It made one.

NEXT CHAPTER >>

#jungkook #thebtswritersclub #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #tw: smut #tw: dubious consent #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

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words-writ-in-starlight · 3 years

Text

day 4: "do you trust me?"

(part one)

There are logistics to consider, when it comes to publicly executing a wizard. It’s a show of assurance from the Dynasty, to have him killed under the eyes of all Rosohna, to prove their strength, but also a risk. It looks unprofessional for a captured traitor to make a last stand within feet of the axe, even if all he achieves is going out in a blaze of glory rather than a quick drop of steel.

Steps have been taken to avoid this eventuality. Essek’s hands are shackled behind his back, forced into gloves with steel wires running through the fingers and palms to prevent even the smallest gesture. Between the cloth between his teeth and the metal muzzle holding his jaw tightly closed, he’s no closer to speaking a spell than he is to walking on the sun. Every fiber of his plain prisoner’s shirt and pants has been searched, twice, to ensure that he has nothing on him that might conceivably be used for casting.

Essek has seen this before, although rarely. It was not a surprise, when the appointed day arrived and his guards brought the restraints. Yet it feels unreal, as everything since his trial has felt unreal. As everything since Jester’s message has felt unreal. A dream, unspooling before him, outside his control.

There is a kind of ease to it, that Essek has never experienced before. There is nothing left for him to do. He made his attempt to run, and he failed. He said his words of defense at his trial, and they were not enough. And now, they will use the same techniques that he helped to perfect to drag him to the block and kill him for his treason, his callous disregard for all the lives lost in the war. All neat and tidy, and all he has to do is let the current carry him forward to the inevitable end.

He tells himself, as the gloves are locked onto his hands, that this is one of the better possible outcomes, and he even believes it. His friends, his family—they are not here. Jester has done as she agreed, giving him time to resolve the situation, and hasn’t messaged him since his trial. The Nein are well outside the possible radius of destruction that Essek has caused, in his arrogance and carelessness. He knows his actions will reflect poorly on Den Thelyss, but he hopes that Verin might escape with a mere demotion, as unscathed as anyone could hope to be, protected by Essek’s full, willing confession.

It’s worth it, to pay for their lives with his own.

Essek believes this. He believes it with his whole heart.

The gloves keep his hands from shaking.

Two guards, a goliath with her arms tattooed so densely she looks scaled and a burly half-orc with skin nearly as grey as the stone walls, haul him to his feet in his cell and push him forward. They hold him up by main force when he stumbles and he would otherwise take a head-first fall into the stone. Nonetheless, his pride prickles and burns when the half-orc yanks him upright after his latest near-fall, grip hard on the collar of Essek’s shirt, and snorts a laugh.

“Can’t believe he’s the fucking traitor,” the half-orc says over Essek’s head, drawling the words in a tone full of vindictive amusement that Essek has become regrettably familiar with, lately. “Fucker can’t even walk in a straight line. Can you, Shadowhand?” He gives Essek a sharp cuff on the shoulder to punctuate the insult, and it’s only because Essek has a sense of how this goes by now that he manages to anticipate the blow and stay on his feet.

The goliath laughs, a rolling rumble of thunder as she checks Essek hard with her hip, sending Essek into the corner of the next corridor hard enough that he’d have a bruise, if he lived long enough for it to show up.

“You’re telling me,” the goliath says. “Goddamn, wizards are useless once you get ‘em quiet, huh? Up this way next, what is this, your first time down here?”

“You’ve got to do a pretty good job, but yeah, pretty much just decorative once you shut ‘em up.” The half-orc grabs the cuff holding Essek’s hands together and tugs to indicate the next corridor, ignoring the way it forces Essek up onto his toes against the pain in his shoulders. “I just got in from Jigow,” he continues, as if Essek isn’t even there. “Y’know how it is, they were looking to cover y’all’s staffing problems since this bastard’s confession did a real number on things. Anywhere good to get a drink around here?”

“Thought you looked new,” the goliath said. “You trying to get lucky, new guy?”

“Hey, miss every shot you don’t take,” the half-orc said, sly, angling a glance up at her. “How’s my progress?”

“Depends on how much you spend on those drinks. Hold him, I’ll get the gate.”

The half-orc’s hands close firmly around the tops of Essek’s arms, holding him in place as the goliath strides ahead. In front of her—in front of Essek—is the great gate to the courtyard, and beyond it he can hear the roar of a crowd, bloodthirsty and victorious.

He can picture it. He’s put people here himself, attended executions for treason. The flagstones, smooth and dark beneath the crowd of witnesses. The stone dias with the Bright Queen’s throne, the chairs beside her for close advisors and other nobility. His mother might have been there, if he hadn’t so recently destroyed the reputation of Den Thelyss. And at the center, where all could see, the stairs, and the platform, and the block, and the axe.

The goliath is at the door, and the lock clatters, metal-on-metal.

Under cover of the noise, the half-orc lowers his head and speaks into Essek’s ear, no longer the careless drawl, but quick, clipped words in a familiar accent.

“I don’t have time to explain,” the half-orc murmurs in Fjord’s voice, so quiet that Essek would think it was a hallucination if he couldn’t feel the air move against his skin. “We have a plan. Do you trust me?”

Essek’s first response isn’t relief. It’s not even shock. It is pure, undiluted, blazing rage, that, after all this, these fucking morons are here. It hits him so hard that his skin burns with it, his vision spotting black at the edges, lips twisting against his gag. All at once, for the first time in a week, Essek is awake, jarred back to the present by the fury pounding through his veins. He can feel the air rushing into his throat, the hammering of his heart against his ribs, every fiber of his coarse prisoner’s clothing and every imperfection of the stone under his bare feet.

Fortunately, Essek has been a traitor in the heart of the Dynasty for too long to let it slow him down, and he nods, once, minutely.

“Okay,” Fjord breathes. “She’s going to open that door. When I yell, make a run for it.”

Once upon a time, Essek would have spent valuable time thinking about how astronomically terrible that plan is, but prolonged exposure to the Mighty Nein teaches a person to accept the reality of a plan being terrible right away and move on to thinking about managing the terrible plan quickly. And—

Even if it was the worst conceivable plan, even if it was—well, make a run for it, when there’s a sword-wielding goliath between him and the outside, which is entirely populated by guards, magic users, and a crowd that wants him dead—even then, Essek can’t imagine turning down the offer. It’s not exactly a port in a storm, but it’s something.

Essek is twenty paces from his own death, and even if this plan just ends with him having a friend at his side while he dies, it’s already better than dying alone. He never claimed to have entirely cured himself of selfishness.

And besides, Essek reassures himself as the goliath shoulders open the door. If this gets Fjord killed too, Essek will just have to find a way to drag himself back from death and throttle the entire Nein on principle. Stranger things have happened.

The door creaks open, and Fjord’s hands loosen, just slightly, and Essek runs.

“Fucker!” Fjord roars behind him, sounding breathless—pained? It buys Essek a bare moment to close the distance to the gate, and then dart around the goliath’s side as she starts to turn. “He’s using magic! Stop him!”

The goliath snarls, and Essek puts on a reckless burst of speed. Her hand shoots out and grabs his shirt, but Essek is moving too quickly. The fabric cuts into him as it rips, and then he’s stumbling into the courtyard.

He doesn’t get any further. His luck doesn’t hold up to a second blow from the goliath, and she slams a fist into his chest so hard he hears ribs crack. He’s shoved backward, toward the door, with a helpless, strangled shout of pain that draws every eye.

He’s caught from behind, a fist in his tangled white hair, and he hears a whisper of “Trust me.”

And then Fjord’s hand, unremarkable guard’s sword in his grip, comes down, and cuts Essek’s throat.

#whumptober 2021 #no.4 #do you trust me?#critical role #mighty nein #fic #essek thelyss #major character death #SPEAKING OF WHICH #THERE'S A THIRD SECTION COMING UP #PLEASE DO NOT TAKE UP YOUR PITCHFORKS FOR AT LEAST A COUPLE MORE DAYS #THANK YOU FOR NOT MURDERING THIS HUMBLE AUTHOR #this takes place broadly post-canon but otherwise i have done exactly zero Thinking about it

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binxyu · 3 years

Text

Jungkook was meant to be just a guilty pleasure. Not your guilty pleasure, but a guilty pleasure. You knew never to fall in love with a man that thought loyalty was showing up on time. He was everything you never needed, but here you were. Your fingers pressed on the trigger that would start the flame of pain.

>>Pairing: Jeon Jungkook (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | fuckboy!jk x witch!reader

>>Word Count: 7.5k

>>Genre: Mini Series / Smut & Angst

>>Warnings/Kinks: Arguments, breast play, creampie, cum play, disloyalty, degrading, exhibitionism, fingering, hair pulling, marking, oral (receiving), praise, unprotected sex, and witchcraft

Jungkook was too beautiful for his own good.

From his pouty lips and sharp jaw line to his starry eyes. The man was perfection.

Even you had fallen for him, a woman that stopped believing in love.

But, all you could do now was remember the times you had together as the fire slowly burns in front of you.

As your love for Jeon Jungkook disappeared into nothingness.

Your fingers typed away at the keyboard, writing the second of three essays you had due. It was nearing the end of the semester and, while you were ecstatic at the mere thought of summer vacation, the stress of exams was looming over you.

“Can you look over this paragraph for me?”, you peeked up over your laptop and nodded, moving your own device out of the way to make room for Namjoon’s. Kim Namjoon was a journalist in the making, a man that knew exactly how to put events into words. He was quite different from you, but study sessions together were always eventful. You were the perfect person to correct his grammar mistakes or to help add detail to his work and he was the perfect person to help explain a certain historical detail you may have missed.

Studying religions was what you had decided was your interest considering your unique practice. You enjoyed learning about the beliefs of people centuries ago but the facts could get scrambled in your brain and that’s where Namjoon came in. He almost seemed to have a never ending timeline in his brain.

“I’d add more emphasize on Jungkook. He did beat the record after all”, you quickly realized when you read the paragraph that he was writing for the school paper again. Despite your attempts to persuade the man that he could do much better with his time, he continued to write for it.

“That’s true. Wait, how did you know about that?”, you let out an amicable chuckle. Of course Namjoon would assume you did not know. Just because you despised sports did not mean you were deaf. The whole school had been talking about the student since the track meet. While you couldn’t remember the exact record he beat, it was still a record.

“People talk”, you shrugged and Namjoon nodded. It was peaceful for a moment as you went back to typing, managing to push aside your emerging migraine. Your body was begging for a good nap, but you had to get this done. You were, among less appealing qualities, a hard worker. Perhaps it was due to the pressure put on you as a child or maybe it was because that diploma was just out of reach. Either way, nothing was going to get in the way of your future.

And, like the biggest fuck you from the universe, Jeon Jungkook walks in.

Yet, you hadn’t realized and kept typing until Namjoon cursed loudly, drawing you out of your world.

“Are you okay?”, your voice was soft before your eyes met the issue. Oh, poor clumsy Namjoon.

He had spilt his coffee all over his shirt, staining the freshly new white blouse he had worn. You couldn’t help but laugh as you dug in your bag for a napkin.

“Don’t bother, it’s too much for a napkin. I’ll go to the restroom. Be right back”, you gave him a brief nod and a thumbs up. Still, you got up with your little pack of napkins and tried to clean up the remaining coffee staining into the table. The librarian is sure to kill you both if it does end up staining the wood. Standing back to examine your work, you almost screamed.

Standing by your laptop was a tall figure with the most sinister smirk you’ve ever seen.

Jeon fucking Jungkook spilt your coffee all over your notes and laptop.

Your mouth hung open for a moment before fury overtook the shock. You stomped up to the broadly built man and yes you didn’t believe in violence as a solution but all you wanted to do was slap the smirk right off his gorgeous face.

“Why did you do that?”, you also wanted to yell but the librarian was already eyeing the table and you couldn’t draw attention to the mess.

“Because I like to watch you suffer, sourpuss”, how have you not killed the man in front of you? You had no idea. Because that name infuriated you.

You knew it was the student’s way of messing with you, wanting to strike that minuscule nerve inside of you. No one else believed you could get angry but Jungkook knew you could. Mostly because he had caused that anger.

“And why is that? Because Jimin told you another lie about me?”, Jeon Jungkook was so impossibly similar to Park Jimin that it was uncanny who he had learned his traits from. Truth be told, you had the smallest crush on the man in front of you during freshmen year. He was so affectionate, caring, and friendly back then.

But, instead of ending up with the sweet heartthrob, you had ended up with Jimin for that year and the next.

Starting out, he was simply a popular boy and loved you with his whole heart. But, time went by and his true colors shun through like the sunlight through your irritatingly useless blinds. He was a playboy. An awfully good one at that for you to have never noticed the extra pairs of undergarments that laid on his floor when you slept over at his dorm.

He cheated, but he blamed it all on you and even Jeon Jungkook hates your guts because you were sure Jimin had told him exactly what he had told most of your friends. That you had broken his heart with your “horrifying” witchcraft and that you were dangerous. It explained why so many students asked to see your devil shrine the next day or tried to barge into your dorm to look at what Jimin talked about.

The most ironic thing was that you had never used magick around the man and you barely used it to begin with. You supposed it was for good reason considering that happened the first time you told someone about it.

“Jimin doesn’t lie. He’s never lied to me and I’m sure you’re well aware of what you did”, his finger jabbed harshly above your breast, just slightly lower than your collarbone. Among many things, Jungkook was dense and forgetful. You noticed that quickly when you started spotted reminders written on his fingers or palm. Just like the little note saying “library 7pm” was written on the finger jabbing you.

Unless the track star had another reason to be in the library he never visited, he wrote that down just to catch you in time.

“Tell me, Jeon. What did I do?”, you tilted your head and moved away from him, realizing the coffee was now leaking onto the floor. You desperately wished Namjoon would hurry up and get back to help you.

“You broke his heart. Using magick or something”, you bit your lips in annoyance and turned around to face him.

“Or something? Jungkook, I never did anything to Jimin. I know you won’t believe it because you look up to him like some god, but he cheated on me. He broke my heart”, you jabbed back, hitting the same spot he hit you, “and, if you haven’t noticed, Jimin doesn’t seem heartbroken, does he?”. If he dared to say yes you may have to use that horrifying magick Jimin lied about because your ex was anything but heartbroken. He was with a new woman almost every night and, even with this knowledge, they lined up to be with him. Who could deny the charming Park Jimin?

Finally, Jungkook shook his head, his curly black hair bouncing as he did the movement. If he wasn’t such a nuisance, you might’ve wished you could run your fingers through it. It looked so fluffy.

“Then, leave me alone. It’s been years of your torment and I’m tired of it”, you sighed and slung your bag over your shoulder after shoving your slightly wet laptop into it, walking out of the library after sending a text to Namjoon that you had felt bad because no one really knew about your fights with Jungkook and Namjoon would surely try to beat his ass if he found out about it.

Leaving the coffee on the table was a bold move but a part of you hoped that the asshole would clean it up. It was his mess after all. Not your’s.

“You’re coming to the track meet, right?”, the voice startled you and you sat up on your bed, making direct eye contact with Kim Taehyung. The only guy with a key to your dorm.

“Tae, I love you but you know I do not do sports”, you grumbled and flopped back onto your bed. Your classes had you beat and the need for a nap was too great to give up. Even if it was for your best friend.

“I know but it would mean so much if you were there”, don’t do it. Don’t do it.

You did it.

You made direct eye contact with those big puppy eyes Taehyung always used to get his way. You had fallen victim once again.

Which was why you had ended up in the cold, shivering as you watched the team run around the track for what felt like an eternity.

Taehyung had done great considering he barely moved before the season but who really stood out was Jungkook. His back muscles were only moments away from ripping through the flimsy shirt he was wearing and sweat was coating his hair. He was aware of how good he looked. He always was. He even was ballsy enough to wink at one of the girls screaming his name in the crowd.

Thankfully, the pleasant bliss that was drinking kept your mind off how irritated you were. You had snuck in a beer to drink (not that everyone else didn’t) and the alcohol loosened you up a bit.

After the meet was over, a sweaty Taehyung was clinging to you like a massive koala. He was high off adrenaline and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to cuddle or jump around.

“Tae, take this before you pass out on top of me”, you handed him a water and he gratefully took it, still leaning against you as he chugged down the drink.

Taehyung and you were polar opposites. He was an athlete, quite dorky, a great singer, and was overly optimistic. You, on the other hand, liked to keep to yourself, was not the best of singers, and always stuck to the reality of things. Even if you could manipulate that reality the tiniest bit.

“Let’s get you home”, you let the man lean his weight on you tiredly as you started to walk towards the exit of the field.

“Sourpuss, I need to talk to you”, that voice was definitely not the one you needed to hear when you were this tired and already agitated. What does a girl have to do to spend time in her bed?

“I’m a little busy if you haven’t realized”, you gestured to Taehyung, who was breathing directly on your neck and nuzzling his nose against the skin. It wasn’t an odd gesture considering your close friendship but his face was so cold it send goosebumps down your spine.

“I’ll help”, Jungkook offered, quickly coming to your rescue by crouching down and getting Tae on his back. The man grumbled but was happy to take the ride considering it was less soreness for his legs to endure the next day.

The Jeon Jungkook helping? What a trip.

“What do you want?”, you winced at how rude it sounded. Sure, Jungkook most definitely deserves said rudeness, but he was helping you.

“I’m sorry”, you legitimately thought you were hearing things and turned your head to look at him, stopping in your tracks.

“Can you say that again? I don’t think I heard you correctly”, the athlete groaned before turning to look at you, frustration evident on his face.

“I’m sorry. You were right about Jimin. He’s been talking shit behind my back for months and I had no idea”, if it wasn’t for your “told you so” attitude, you would’ve felt sorry for him. Jimin was one of his closest friends after all.

“Hate to say I told you so but”, he glared at you to shut up and you quickly did. His glare was so cold that a shiver went up your spine.

“Sorry, it was a joke. Jimin is really manipulative so don’t let him bring you down”, you reassured him, even bringing your hand up to pat his shoulder. By the way he flinched away, you would’ve assumed your hand was made of lava.

Noted. Jungkook hates being touched.

“I assumed so much about you and that was immature of me”, the man smiled softly at you. It felt like arrows pierced your heart. He had such a cute smile for an asshole. Like a bunny.

“It’s fine. Lots of people assume things about me”, you shrugged as you both started walking again, Taehyung looking down at you to make sure you’re okay. He was like your protective older brother and you couldn’t be more thankful to have him around.

“But they shouldn’t. So what if you follow a different religion? It doesn’t mean you’re evil”, that was probably the first time someone agreed with your practices besides Taehyung and Namjoon (mostly because he understood it better than others).

“Thank you for saying that. It means a lot”, you finally smiled back at him, sending his heart right into his chest as his heartbeat picked up. Needless to say, he adored your smile.

“I hate to ask this of you but could you tutor me on Epidemiology? I regret ever taking it and I’ll pay you”, you were wide-eyed with shock to say the least. You didn’t expect Jungkook to go out of his way to learn. Especially, not with you.

“Sure, you can join Namjoon and I in the morning”, you nodded before you saw the way Jungkook’s nose crinkled up in displeasure.

“What? What’s wrong with that?”, he sighed in response to the question as you both reached your dorm building. You’d just let Tae stay with you for the night.

“Namjoon hates my guts. We’re way too different. Besides, aren’t you two dating? I don’t want to be some third wheel”, Jungkook almost sounded disgusted at the idea, probably imagining you making out with Namjoon in front of him.

“I’m not dating him. He’s just the only other intelligent male I can tolerate”, he seemed to relax once you finished speaking but there was still tenseness evident in his shoulders which wasn’t due to the large man on his back.

“I still don’t get along with him despite the fact that he writes about me all the time. He once yelled at me for cheating and wrote an article about it”, that was a slap right to your face. Right, Jungkook was a player and he could throw your feelings aside like one of his cigarettes. Do not get attached.

“Well, don’t cheat”, you said because, let’s be real, it’s the truth. You unlocked the door and helped Taehyung off of his back.

“Bye Koo, thanks again”, your words were quick and you kicked the door closed with your shoe, your hands full thanks to the oversized man child clinging onto you.

Koo. He liked that.

Weeks had ticked by and, somehow, Jungkook had managed to get your number. Honestly, Namjoon probably slipped it out or Taehyung gave it to him. According to Tae, the man had been oddly friendly to him and they were (borderline) friends now. They played video games together, practiced together, and even barged into your place for snacks together.

Great. Now you had two man-children to take care of and feed. It was definitely taking a chunk out of your paycheck each week to get extra snacks for the two. They ate like starving animals whenever they came over. A small part of you even thought it was just to piss you off even more.

Jungkook finally managed to get you to agree for a tutoring session with him. Just one. If this one went well then maybe you would agree to more.

The only sad thing about the session was that it was scheduled to happen right after your last class on Friday in your previous dorm. The dorm you had just finished cleaning up since the last time the two adult toddlers had destroyed it.

Surprisingly, when you had woken up one morning, Jungkook was still there. You assumed he and Tae were too drunk to get back to their own dorms and had decided to just sleepover at your’s. It was quite annoying if you were to be honest, but the way Koo looked actually interested in your religion was enticing.

He didn’t look scared or disgusted when he looked at your little collection of crystals on your desk or the jar resting on your end table sealed with candle wax. If anything, he actually looked amused or even impressed.

“I’ll pick you up after class. I can’t believe you don’t drive and walk to your dorm every day”, Jungkook shook his head as he walked beside you. Coincidentally, your last classes were next to each other but you were shocked to hear him offer to give you a ride.

“Don’t judge me, Mr. Playboy. I just have a fear of hitting someone. Have you seen the lunatics at this campus? They will run out into traffic for fun”, the man chuckled wholeheartedly at the pout on your lips. Plus, your joke was actually pretty accurate. Even he had almost hit a drunk idiot when trying to get back to his dorm late one night.

“Okay, that’s fair. So, you okay with me driving you?”, you nodded cautiously. While Jungkook was guaranteed to know every path to your dorm by now, you were still guarded. Being in that tight of a space with him was going to be difficult.

No, you don’t get those so-called “butterflies” when you were with him. Honestly, those butterflies were typically a bad sign to you. Feeling sick because you loved someone sounded a bit odd and almost contradictory.

You actually found yourself with more powerful emotions than anything. If Jungkook made you angry, you were angry. If he made you happy, you were happy.

Everything just felt so much stronger when you were around him. Thankfully, he almost always made you happy. He made you laugh because, once he discovered that beautiful sound, he couldn’t get enough.

So, after your class, you met him out in the hall and he walked you to his car. Now you realized how such an undetermined man got into college.

He was filthy rich.

Sitting there in the parking spot was a brand new Mercedes Benz. Its black color almost matched the distinct leather jacket that he decided to wear today. It very much screamed Jeon Jungkook.

However, it did not scream you whatsoever. You were almost afraid to get near it.

“Hop in. My grade isn’t getting any lower”, he opened the door for you and you weren’t sure if it was because you were friends, or whatever the fuck you two were, or if it was because he wanted a discount.

That’s not fucking happening. He’s already stolen plenty of money through snacks from your cabinets.

Meekly, you got into the vehicle, immediately buckling your seatbelt as if it was going to hurl itself into motion at any moment. Jungkook shut the door and went around to get into the drivers’ seat. Apparently he trusted his own driving so much that he never wore a seatbelt (Namjoon would’ve had a stroke if he was told that) and he drove with one hand (scratch that- make it two strokes).

Despite those things, he was an actual good driver. You felt safe and he drove the speed limit. Maybe it was just because you were in the car with him?

Getting out of the luxurious leather seats proved to be a hassle considering you knew your seats in your dorm were no where near as comfortable. You could sleep in that passenger seat without a care in the world compared to your own bed. Still, you forced yourself to get out and you two went up to your dorm. Jungkook is way too familiar with the place now considering he barely talks to you. It’s your place and, yet, he comes here for Tae.

“Alright, what unit do you need help on?”, you asked softly as you took the needed supplies out of your bag. You actually already took Epidemiology. It had nothing to do with your major but it was interesting to you. Who wouldn’t want to learn about the science of the world’s biggest killer: disease?

Jungkook simply looked at you, blinking a few times and pressing his tongue into his cheek in that nervous habit you realized he had.

“Oh- for fucks sake, Koo”, you grumbled as you realized how long of a process this was going to be.

It had been months since you began tutoring the student and, finally, there was progress.

Standing proudly with his shoulders back was Jeon Jungkook holding a test with a big number ‘92’ on it in red ink. Your heart swelled with pride.

“I passed! This was the exam review test so I’ll pass the exam, right?”, you smiled brightly as you looked at his excited eyes. You never thought Jungkook would ever be excited over passing a class but you can’t judge people by their covers, right?

“Yeah! Just keep up with the studying and you got it”, you nodded quickly, looking away from his puppy eyes when you felt happiness engulf you like a fire.

Ironically, you were actually playing with fire. Your hand tugged on the trigger and a flame flickered from the end of your lighter. You brought it down and lit the candle in front of you. To be honest, you were a bit of a goodie two shoes but you did break one rule.

No fire in the dorms.

“Hey, I really wanted to thank you. I’m actually passing all my classes now and it fills like my life has purpose again”, woah, didn’t expect that.

“No problem, Koo. Your life always has purpose. What do you mean?”, you looked up from what you were doing, noticing he was leaning against the frame of your door.

“All I did was party and drink. Sure, I was a good athlete but that can only take you so far”, you nodded in understanding and stood up, walking towards him.

He followed your every move like prey waiting for the predator to attack them.

But, instead of an attack, he was met with a warm, genuine, and, all around, great hug.

“Do you think of me as everyone else does?”, you looked up at him, meeting his starry eyes.

Oh, you hated them because of how much you loved them. They held the galaxy within them and you could stare into them for hours if given the chance.

You were many things but, tragically for Jungkook, a liar wasn’t one of them.

“Honestly, I did before. I’ve seen you do some of the things the rumors talk about-“, smoking, cheating, fighting, “but now I know that’s not all you are. There’s more to you, Koo”.

All Jungkook had been able to think about was your words. Sure, he didn’t care about your opinion before but it truly did make him happy to know you thought better of him.

“Jk! Where have you been?”, oh no.

“Jimin? I’ve just been at the gym a lot”, lies. He had been with you a lot.

“Ah, I see. How’s the bet going?”, the shorter man asked, running his fingers through his precisely cut hair. What a born model.

The bet. The bet you had no clue about. The bet Jungkook was too dense to refuse.

“It’s going. She hugged me yesterday”, Jimin scoffed and then chuckled, vastly different sounds that almost made Jungkook double over in fear. Truth be told, he despised Jimin. He despised him because he scared him. The only other man more influential than him was Jimin and that meant Jimin could ruin his reputation in a matter of seconds.

“That’s all? Damn, she really is void of love”, the bet Jimin was referring to was the one he made with the younger at the beginning of the year.

“I bet you can’t make her fall in love with you. She didn’t even love me, Koo! Me! I’m telling you, if you make her fall in love with you then I’ll get you anything you want”.

Time was running out with exams coming up and Jungkook needed to hurry if he was going to win such a bet. But, was it worth it if it meant disappointing you? Jimin may be scary but you made him feel so happy and so proud.

The only time he had seen you disappointed was when Taehyung broke one of your jars, resulting in a mess of coins, herbs, and wax on the floor. That’s the day he decided he never wanted to be on the receiving end of one of those looks.

“Yeah, she’s guarded which is understandable-“, wait- did Jeon Jungkook just grow some balls? “I’d be void of love too if everyone judged me for something I believed in”. He did.

“Where is that coming from? She deserves it, doesn’t she? Come on, JK. Keep that head in the game!”, Jimin patted his head like he was a child with all A’s on his report card, which, for once, was actually true thanks to you.

What game? You? Were you truly just a game to him?

“Alright, I’ve got this”, damn. Maybe you were.

Most nights you found yourself at the library now. It was the only place that was filled with peace and quiet. Especially on a Friday. Not even the librarian was here.

“Guess who”, hands covered your eyes and you would’ve punched the man behind you if you didn’t immediately recognize his husky voice. It was soothing with just the perfect mix of roughness. You couldn’t help but wonder what it sounded like when he just woke up.

“An asshole who thinks it’s okay to sneak up on women in a deserted place”, you grumbled and Jungkook immediately removed his hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”, oh here we go. Argument number two thousand.

“I wasn’t scared. I was just saying that, one, you’re an ass and, two, don’t do that to women”, he nodded in agreement and you thought that was the stopping of an argument. Boy, oh boy, were you wrong.

“I won’t anymore but you’re so weak. I’ve scared you so many times now”, you glared at him. Thanks to months of being by Jungkook’s side, you had become a bit more out of control. The feelings you used to keep caged up were now more out in the open. You cussed more often, even tried drinking (and almost spit it out on him), and your frustration was no longer hidden from the world.

“Jungkook, you are a menace to society and I would like it if you leaved”, it was a pointless threat. You didn’t really mean it. You adored his company but you wouldn’t admit that with a gun to your head.

“Liar, you love me”, shit. Did you? No, don’t ask that. It was just a joke.

Damn you and your overthinking.

“No, I hate you. Shut up”, that was also a useless threat. Jungkook never shut up. He was quite the talker and shutting up was not in his vocabulary.

“No, you hate me. Shut up”, he sat on the table you were previously working on, knowing this would take a while. Your arguments always lasted between thirty minutes to two or three hours. You both hated to back down.

“No, I love you. Shut the fuck up”, wait a second-

“As you wish”, he smirked victoriously and leaned closer, his face so close to your’s that you could smell his musky cologne.

“That was wrong”, you glared at him and he shook his head, “don’t open your mouth aga-“ you were cut off as his lips connected with your’s. He kissed you so intensely that your mind was fogged up, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Finally, with your brain still hooked on adrenaline, your hands found their way to his cheeks, cupping his well defined face as you kissed back. You could feel him smile into the kiss before he pulled away, leaving a spark traveling down your body. Now, that’s a good feeling.

“Ah, I love when you shut the fuck up”, you were so close to beating him with your bag.

Everything was weird after the kiss. Life wasn’t some fairytale where you both lived happily ever after in some old palace somewhere.

No, you were both actually stuck in that “fuck, what are we?” mess.

Love wasn’t something you could control and that was why you never let it get that far, but, with Jungkook, it felt uncontrollable, spreading like wildfire.

So, you avoided him.

Of course, it wasn’t the most humane or easiest form of dealing with your feelings but it worked.

Well, for a little bit until Koo decided to block you off in the library, cornering you into the back section of the religious books. Oh, how ironic.

“What’s wrong?”, his voice made your knees want to give out. It was early and you assumed he woke up early just to catch you. His attire said that enough from his sweatpants to the tank top hugging his upper body. He obviously just threw something on before he left.

“What are you talking about?”, you tilted your head and tried to act innocent, but, once again, a liar you were not.

“Oh please, you’re obviously pissed off or scared of me or something”, bingo. You were horrified of what you were feeling and, in tune with it, Jungkook.

“I don’t know! Why do you even care? You’re obviously going to pass your exam so what am I needed for anymore?”, you winced at your own words, watching as the man’s usual bright expression turned into a sorrowful one.

“It’s much more than that, y/n”, that was probably one of the first times he had said your name. He usually called you nicknames like princess, sourpuss, or whatever else he came up with depending on his mood.

“Then what is it?”, the stare he gave you made you want to hide further into the corner. It was so predatory that your body was trying to fight its own instincts to run away and avoid the problem. You were always a flight over fight type of girl.

“You”, the one word made your eyebrows furrow, racking your brain for a response or understanding of what he meant. Jungkook shook his head as you watched your face twist in confusion.

“You’re so dense. Why would I kiss you if it wasn’t all for you?”, he leaned closer to you, hand resting on the shelf of the bookcase behind you. You silently thanked the universe that no one else was in there yet.

“Discount?”, it was the first thing you thought of and it caused a low chuckle to rumble out of Jungkook’s chest. He looked up into your eyes and it almost knocked the air out of you.

“Hmm, unless it’s a fuck buddy discount then I don’t think I want it”, he raised an eyebrow cockily and your eyes went wide. Little did Jungkook know that he just complicated your relationship even more.

“And what if I’m okay with making such a discount?”, the student practically groaned at the words, free hand finding its way on your hip, squeezing it. You don’t know where your new found confidence came from but you had gotten rather blunt since hanging out with Jungkook.

“Then I’d say you’re not the person I thought you were”, he hummed, leaning in to whisper in your ear. The way his breath tickled your ear sent sparks through your body.

“Is that what you want? For me to take you here against these books?”, yes you did. Looking around, you were met with many versions of Bible and other holy books of all religions. It was absolutely filthy and wrong to do it there which was why it was perfect.

“Yes, I want that”, your nails dug into the wood behind you, trying to ground your emotions down. It had always been an escape tactic to you.

“How naughty”, now you understood why he had chosen today of all days to corner you. He loved the skirt you were wearing and how easily it gave access to everything delicious underneath. Plus, your legs were perfect to him.

His fingers danced along your thighs before he pushed up your skirt, revealing the black lace panties underneath. Oh, you knew what was going to happen today and you definitely knew Jungkook liked his black.

“So pretty. Just for me?”, the question took you off guard, your own questions flooding your brain. Ultimately, after a few moments of silence, you decided he probably had a possession thing. Who didn’t like to feel powerful?

“Just for you, Koo. Fuck, touch me please”, so you decided to feed his little ego, edging him on until he pulled the panties to the side to reveal your glistening pussy.

The dim light of the library truly didn’t do it justice but he couldn’t help himself from finding it to be also perfect. He was in deep shit now.

His long fingers ran down your slit until they reached their destination: your pussy. He rubbed around it before he slowly plunged his middle finger into the wetness, curling against your walls.

Fuck, you always hated that finger but with it inside of you? Maybe you could make an exception.

Your body shook in response to the stimulation since you hadn’t been touched in so long, your hands gripping the wood tighter to keep yourself steady. Jungkook smirked when you clenched around his finger before he added another, stretching you out wonderfully as he scissored you open.

And that was when Jungkook found his favorite sound in the world.

“Jungkook! Oh god”, you moaning his name sounded like music to his ears and he couldn’t get enough. The only thing he hated was how quiet it was since you were still conscious of the library around you. He wanted you to scream it.

“You like that, princess? You want more?”, you obediently nodded, not in the mood to be denied an orgasm (which you were sure Jungkook would do if you didn’t obey). The man chuckled and leaned down, still pumping his fingers steadily as if it took no effort at all. If you had done this yourself then your fingers would have been cramping by now.

Your body jolted when Jungkook’s plump lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly on the nerve as if he was starving. To be fair, he had skipped breakfast.

You feared for the books behind you as your body spasmed, orgasming on the man’s fingers. You took deep breaths once you were finished and watched as Jungkook pulled away, pulling his cum covered fingers out of you.

With prolonged eye contact, he slipped the digits into his mouth and sucked the juices off of them. A new wave of arousal went through you when he tapped your lips with them, making you open your mouth. You gagged briefly when they hit the back of your throat but you sucked on it, licking your way up his middle finger.

“Good girl”, now that was going to haunt you forever. You whined when he pulled his fingers away and he smiled teasingly at you.

“I’m going to need to see these”, your eyes went wide when he gripped the collar of your shirt and ripped it clean down the middle, tossing it aside as if it didn’t cost you a fortune.

“Jeon Jungkook! That was expensive”, you huffed but he paid you no mind, just reaching behind you to remove your bra too so it can join the rest of your clothes.

“What if someone sees? I can’t cover these up quickly, Koo”, you crossed your arms over your chest, looking around cautiously. Jungkook just laughed and pulled your arms away, pinning your wrists above your head so he can press his body against your own.

“Take my shirt off and you can put that over you for the day. It’s fine, sourpuss”, oh you would’ve slapped him if you weren’t so turned on. He let go of your wrists and you quickly removed his shirt for him, revealing a muscular chest you could’ve never imagined.

And he never imagined how beautiful you’d look with your hard nipples pressed against the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. He grabbed them immediately and you failed to see the spark in his eyes as he squished them together.

“That was one of my favorite shirts. What a di-“, you yelped when he pulled your leg up over his shoulder, yanked his pants and boxers down, and pulled your panties aside to rub his angry tip against your folds. Your head rested back as he rubbed against your clit, covering his cock in your juices.

“What a dick indeed”, Jungkook chuckled deeply, arousal blurring his world into nothing but you. The only thing that mattered at that moment was feeling you.

His lips attached to your neck and you were so out of reality that you didn’t realize he was littering the skin with his marks, a silent claim on you as he pushed himself inside of you.

“Oh shit, it’s exactly as I imagined. So tight and warm”, and he was just as you imagined. So very big. You didn’t think anyone else could stretch you out as much as Jeon Jungkook and that thought made you groan.

“You’ve been imagining it?”, it was your turn to smirk and, for the first time ever, the man in front of you blushed.

“Oh please princess. I know you’ve been thinking about it too”, and you had been. Not that you’d ever admit that after he just basically friends with benefits zoned you.

“Just move you asshole”, Jungkook gripped your hair, tugging on the soft strands as he finally kept pushing, bottoming out inside of you perfectly.

His big hands moved to grip your hips, a little help to keep you up as he started to snap his own into your’s. He was mildly uncomfortable at first but, as you adjusted to his size, bliss filled your body.

Finally, you were doing something to make yourself happy and pleased. Maybe Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best man to do it but he was making you feel so so good.

The man snapped you out of your thoughts as he brought your hand down to your clit. You understood and started to rub it, happy knowing that Jungkook was also looking out for your own pleasure too. Not that you’d know he had been thinking about you creaming on his big cock for months now.

“Keep doing that”, he whispered despite the heavy groan that threatened to come out. He was referring to the uncontrollable clenching you were doing around his dick, sucking him into your walls with each muscle movement. You listened and (despite knowing you were going to keep doing it anyways) clenched once again.

“Can I cum inside?”, you whimpered at the idea of Jungkook’s cum filling you up and, knowing you’re on grade A birth control, you nodded. While Jungkook was effortlessly attractive, kids were not part of your plans by far.

“You close too, princess?”, you nodded, a small moan spilling past your lips despite your best efforts to be quiet. With that knowledge, the man orgasmed and you could feel his seed start to coat your insides. The feeling made you tumble over into your own orgasm, coating his softening cock with your release.

“I think that’s the best sex I’ll ever have”, you praised him as you tried to put your cramping leg down off his shoulder. Instead, he held it tighter and pulled himself out of you. He watched as his cum started the spill out of you, dripping down your thighs beautifully.

So, he’s a man who likes to admire his work.

You almost screamed when he pushed it back inside of you with his finger due to the sensitivity.

“See you later, sourpuss”, Jungkook smirked and put your panties back to their original position before he pulled his own boxers and pants back up. He walked off and you were left gobsmacked with his cum dripping out of you onto your panties.

As the weeks passed by, the world became more vibrant and cheerful but also more chilling and worrisome.

Exams were over and you were free to go wherever you pleased but, somehow, you always found yourself wanting to be with what was supposed to be your secret guilty pleasure. Now, he was your everything. He truly brought color into your world; sadly, color always comes with black and white.

“I won the bet, Jimin. I want what I asked for”, you listened intently from the other aisle of books. The library had become your go to spot to find Jungkook. Surprisingly, the once unmotivated student was more frequently in here because of the sheer relief he got when you stood before him with a proud smile. What a softy.

“Really? She fell for you? Damn, you still got it. I can’t believe you asked for this though”, the disgust in your ex’s voice was evident and you so desperately wanted to see what he was referring to. You truly thought Koo had stopped being friends with Jimin after he apologized but apparently you were wrong about a lot of things. Most of all, you were wrong to love again.

Feeling your tears start to spill down your cheeks for the first time in years, you forced yourself out of the library. You should’ve seen it coming. What would a playboy want with you? A woman looking for a serious relationship? You’re an idiot and you’ll fix it.

Said playboy must’ve spotted you because you could hear his heavy footsteps behind you as you rushed out of the library, hurrying into a run with the safety of your dorm in mind. It was time to end this.

So, here you were. Remembering everything from the past few months as the candles in front of you burned, getting so desperately close to the string connecting them. You had carved an evident ‘JK’ on one and your initials on the other, bonding them to the people who needed to be apart from one another.

Watching his candle, you noticed the wax dripping down the long wick and you knew they were tears. You knew because of the loud banging coming from your dorm door, the man on the other side screaming and sobbing for you to let him explain.

Your candle, however, burned strongly with vengeance. It stood so tall compared to Jungkook’s and, as the fire finally burned through the string tying you both together, you felt free. It was like Jeon Jungkook had never affected you before and his name slowly slipped from your mind.

Eventually, the banging stopped as the candles reached their ends and the fire flickered out under your gaze. You felt so blissfully numb as you walked towards the door, opening it to reveal a confused Jungkook looking up at you.

“What did you do? It’s like-“, you cut him off with your hand, pulling him up rather roughly.

“You never knew me. That’s how I want it, Jeon Jungkook. You never knew me and I never knew you. Now, get your prize and leave me alone”, you slammed the door in his face. You felt pure relief but Jungkook could still feel a pang of want in his body.

You had failed to notice the little wax left of his candle that stood strong as you dumped it in the trash and he failed to notice that he had left his “prize” outside your door as he rushed off.

A gorgeous rose quartz necklace.

What a way to declare your love to a witch who just cut it all off.

#binxyu #btsghostie #lsn.works #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook smuts #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshots #jungkook oneshot #bts jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagines #bts oneshots #bts scenarios

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devilscreekballad · 3 years

Text

Know what, actually have the scene in which Matt takes over:

There's a part of you that's grateful you brought Burke and Lynwood. Burke for his way of entry onto the hayloft which has given you the higher ground and keeps [MC] and the animals below out of the line of fire, and Lynwood as he is proving to be a frighteningly good marksman, having already taken out three of your opponents, which brings their number down to six with the two you and Burke took care of.

But as usually everything has its downsides. Due to Lynwood the element of surprise is out the window (though you can't blame him by any means), and being up here means you can't see where exactly [MC] is or how they are doing. And you begin worrying what might happen when your remaining opponents figure why you are here.

The possible scenarios are making your head swim, clouding your mind, and you try to swallow the dry lump in your throat, when you, without warning, throw yourself into the hay.

Oh...

“Matt?”

"Ya nearly got two bullets through your head, Charles, I had to".

Nodding a short, slightly embarrassed thank you and reorient yourself, trying to shake off the dark thoughts and the itch getting possessed always leaves you with.

"What the devil was that?" Lynwood calls, staring at you bewildered.

"Possession," you answer, cocking your gun and taking out another opponent.

Lynwood just nods, though judging by the look on his face there will be questions about this later. And you pray there's a 'later'.

There might not be. Your opponents have done the wise thing and made their way below the hayloft, and you can only guess they are waiting for one of you to give away your position. All three of you seem aware of this, you all holding perfectly still. The noises from the animals getting agitated below is a boon, though not a comfortable one to have. "Want me to take over for this?" Matt asks bluntly, causing you to draw a sharp breath. Possession is no child's play, taking a lot of energy. But in return you gain a few advantages. It's something reserved for very dire moments.

Like now.

With a little wave you signal Burke to give you his gun, and he stares at you bewildered, but nevertheless shoves his six shooter over.

With a small nod you signal Matt to proceed.

The next few seconds are a bit like a dream.

Jumping down from the hayloft you spin both guns in your hand, cocking them while grinning wickedly at the men before you, staring at you in bafflement. One, two, three, four, five shots, four men going down for good, the last one ripping the gun from the hand of one of the remaining mercenaries.

That one's clever enough to surrender. Good, as you are out of bullets, but they don't have to know that.

Staggering a little as you gain control of your body again you scan the area for the final guy.

"Where's yer friend?" you bark, albeit the small cough you give negates the effect a little. And then what you hoped would not happen, happens. The last guy comes out of one of the boxes, with [MC] in a chokehold.

#the ballad of devil's creek #baodc spoilers #baodc charlie

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

The Hybrid (I)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: Thank you for being patient with me as I slowly write this series. I had this idea a long time ago and I’m not finding motivation to write it but the inspiration comes and go. I smile with every comment that is left on my fics and I’m so grateful for this community. Thank you for letting me pursue my creative writing without judgement. Love you guys! (Also, yes. If you didn’t see my last note, I based YN’s family off of the Gilmore Girls characters. That’s who I picture as them.)

Word Count: 8k

Masterlist Prologue

You wake up to someone falling on your bed next to you with a dramatic sigh. Knowing exactly who it is, you choose to ignore her and try getting back to the dreamless sleep you were peacefully having before you woke up.

That is, until she sighs again.

You flip onto your back and stare up at your ceiling fan that’s quickly spinning above you. “What, Rory?”

“How did it go with Andre and that boy?”

You look at her with one brow raised. “You woke me up to hear about Andre’s love life? That hardly sounds like you. You don’t care about high school drama or hookups.”

“You’re right,” Rory says. “But I thought I would ease you into what I actually need to tell you.”

You turn on right side and look at your sister confused. “What?”

She sighs. “The cafe’s basement flooded last night. Mom needs us there to help her clean up and take inventory on what’s salvageable.”

You turn back on you backside and close your eyes, exhaling a deep sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately not,” Rory says and pats you twice on your covered thigh as she sits up. “Come on. I made you pre-cafe coffee. It’s sitting in the kitchen.”

You throw your sheets off of you and trudge to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face. It’s about 8 a.m. At least you were able to get about six hours of sleep.

Last night, it was hard to let your brain rest to fall asleep. You kept tossing and turning, thinking about the blonde Pogue who walked you home. You missed how easy it was to talk to someone who you felt truly knew you. Your banter rolled off your tongue easily and you never had to worry about offending him because you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew what he could take and what he couldn't.

Talking to him brought back childhood memories you had hidden deep in your mind. How JJ would constantly poke you until you ripped into a smile on days that were grey. How you used to steal John B’s bandanas until he was chasing you around his house to get them back. How you would draw a mustache and a unibrow on Pope’s face when he fell asleep by the water.

Those days felt like they were decades ago. So far away, you didn’t know if you’d be able to reach for them again. If it was even possible to get back.

You thought about texting him. Thanks for walking me back. We should all get together soon! You had written out. But then you deleted the whole message, telling yourself it was because you didn’t know if he even had the same number. But deep down, you were just afraid of the rejection.

Its been about three years since the four of you had been together in one place. You don’t know what they’ve been through or if they’ve changed. They for sure as hell don’t know what you’ve been through. You don’t know if they're dynamic has changed. Clearly you and JJ can still joke with each other but what about John B and Pope? You heard about John B’s father disappearing at sea, most people believing he’s dead, but John B holding onto hope that’s he’s alive. You always thought about calling him to reach out and offer your condolences. But for the same reason you didn’t text JJ, you never called. It didn’t feel like your place. They had Kie for that now. A little part of you felt jealous of her, like she had replaced you and any memory of you. She seemed nice, but she wasn’t you.

“Ready?” Rory pops her head in to your room as you slip on a cropped plain white zip up jacket over your cropped black tank.

“As I’ll ever be,” You say and snag the car keys out of her hands. “Don’t even think about it. I’m driving.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “I want to get there safely.”

“And I want to get there quickly.”

“Fine. But we’re taking my car. It actually has doors.”

For your sixteenth birthday, your grandparents gifted both you and Rory your own individual cars and even let you pick them out. Rory chose a black 2020 Honda Civic for it’s safety features and reputation for longevity as if she was planning on handing it down to her future kids. And you picked out a white 2020 Jeep Wrangler with a hard top that pops off along with the doors for a very open and thrilling ride. Everyone but you called it a death trap, but you found it to be the perfect summer car.

You park Rory’s boring Honda Civic in the back of the cafe in a lot used specifically for employees. The cafe is already booming with teens and families, waiting for their morning coffees and fresh pastries. Kids your age are running around behind the counter with sweat dripping down their brow bone to get everyone’s orders out in a timely manner.

In the back of the store, your mom walks up the steps from the basement with two large trash bags and immediately notices the two of you. “Oh good. You’re here. Rory, help the girls behind the counter. The dishwasher’s broken and poor Hailey is hand washing everything. Y/N, come with me downstairs.”

“Why does Rory get the fun job?” You grumble and follow your mom back downstairs after she tosses the two trash bags.

“Because she’s actually nice to the customers.”

“Treat others how you would like to be treated. Isn’t that what everyone always says?” You smirk. You never agreed with the phrase ‘the customer is always right.’ It’s complete bullshit and being the employee shouldn’t mean letting yourself getting verbally abused by a ‘Karen’ on the other side of the counter.

The basement is used for the cafe’s storage, lined with wooden shelves Steve put together that hold to go cups, back up espresso machines, boxes of coffee and food and ingredients, etc. Now all the boxes are dark and sopping, creating puddles on the concrete floor.

“Oh my god. Mom. How did this happen?”

“Jenky water pipe busted in the middle of the night,” Steve walks down the stairs and passes your mom a knowing look. It didn’t surprise you that he was here. He’s the jack of all trades. Owns his own automotive shop, builds a lot of his own furniture, actually cooks a decent meal, and has the same outlook on customer service as you do. He was probably your mom’s first call. “Talked to the plumber. They can’t get here until at least noon.”

“Noon? We’ll be underwater by noon. I might as well turn all my employees into a swim team,” Your mom says.

Steve shakes his head. “I was able to hold the leak until he gets here. You should be fine.”

Steve was the first person that actually helped your mother out when's she moved to the Cut. Six months pregnant, she pushed her car into his automotive shop after it broke down on the side of the road. Their banter was similar to the one you and JJ have. He helped save your mom money by building yours and Rory’s cribs, changing table, and dressers. And ever since, the two of them had been connected by the hip, although they both refuse to admit it. You think the pair are just trying to deny the love they clearly share for each other. And you think the main reason for that is because of the incident four years ago with your mom’s ex boyfriend. No thanks to you.

“Look at you constantly building your resume,” You smirk at him.

Steve scoffs. “It’s more than what you’re doing.”

You roll your eyes. Steve is the closest thing you have to a father. He practically helped raise you with your mom. He’s the one you turn to whenever a fight with your mom goes too far, which isn't too often but it happens. He usually lets you stay at his house for the night to let you cool off. But he’ll never sugar coat his advice when it comes time for him to give it. Even if you don’t ask for it. He knows growing up with Rory has been challenging. She was clearly your mom’s favorite, or at least that’s what you thought. She has a 4.0 GPA with a realistic dream to get into Brown University and study journalism. She played by every rule, never got into trouble, and spent most of her free nights getting ahead of her school work or staying late at the cafe with an open book from the library across the street. She was an absolute angel to everyone else, making you look like her evil twin.

You glare at him before turning to your mom with crossed arms. “What do you want me to do, Mom?”

“Actually honey. Can you go to Heywards and grab more coffee filters and napkins. The water soaked right through the plastic wrapping on our last box.”

You nod, leaving your mom and Steve to clean up the basement themselves. Before heading out, you sneak behind the counter and make yourself a quick coffee to go.

“Where you going?” Rory asks as she reaches behind you to grab a banana for her customer at the register.

“Heywards to grab a couple things for Mom.”

“Oh. Make sure to grab toilet paper while you’re out. I think we’re almost out of it.”

“Got it.”

Heywards is only a short drive from your mom’s cafe. It’s the closest convenient store that isn’t crazy pricey. It’s where your mom gets all her supplies whenever she runs out of things before shipment gets there.

You use to always come here when you were younger with the boys, each of you, even Pope, stealing a small bag of chips or a candy bar here and there. Little did any of you know, Mr. Heyward caught your thieving hands every time but never said anything.

The bell above the door chimes when you walk into the store. You know this place as well as you know the cafe, finding the toilet paper and coffee filter immediately.

When Mr. Heyward looks up from the counter, his smile grows. He can pick you out of a crowd anywhere, but he hasn’t seen you in a long time. Last time he saw you, you had braces and overgrown bushy brows. Now you had bushed hair and shaved legs.

“Hi. Mr. Heyward,” You grin shyly at him. You don’t know how he’s going to react to see you, unsure of what Pope might have told him about you.

“Little Miss Y/L/N? Is that you?” Heyward smiles widely, pulling your own lips into a wider smile. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with school and my mom’s cafe...” Both of those things were a lie. You just avoid the Cut to avoid the Pogues.

“How’s the fam?”

“They’re good,” You say as Heyward hands you your bags. “Mom says hello by the way. I’m actually taking these to her store now.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger. We miss your smiling face around her. Anette, too.” Heyward says, mentioning his wife.

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Of course, darling.”

Heyward and Anette always had a special place in their heart for you and Rory. They’re not one for gossip, but they knew a little bit about what your mom’s been through and have heard plenty of stories about your grandparents. They always thought, despite your mom’s background, that you and your sister were raised impressively. Anette always hoped that one day Pope and Rory would get together. Everyone always wanted their child to be with Rory.

As your about to leave the store, the bell chimes again with another customer. Only it’s not another customer. It’s Pope and John B. They don’t see you at first, and you wonder if maybe you can sneak out without them seeing you. But something about that felt wrong. Especially because Heyward would more than likely mention to them that you were here.

Pope sees you first and stops in his tracks. “Y/N?”

“Hey, guys. Long time no see,” You smile at both of them. You bite down on your lip awkwardly when you meet John B’s stare. You don’t know if you should mention anything about his dad’s disappearance. But what would you say? Sorry? What good would that do?

“How’ve you been?” Pope gives you a small side hug, then John B.

You shrug. “You know, living the dream.”

“How’s life as a Hybrid?” John B smirks.

You roll your eyes playfully and groan. “Oh god. Never call me that again.”

You may be considered a Hybrid by everyone else, but you would never put yourself into that category. You grew up a Pogue, the same way everyone else did around you. The only thing tying you to the Kooks are your grandparents.

“Why?” John B smirks. “I wish I was a Hybrid.”

You smirk back. “Maybe you will be one day. I hear you have a Kook of your own for arm candy.”

You saw a faint hint of blush on John B’s cheek at the mention of his girlfriend but you don’t mention it. “Sarah, yeah. She’s not like the other Kooks.”

“I would hope not. Her brother’s a dick.”

“Yeah,” They laugh.

“We miss you, you know.” John B says. Pope looks at you, trying to read your expression. John B’s not wrong. They do all miss you, especially Pope. He felt like you were the only one who really understood him. Of course his other friends are great, but you actually took the time to try and understand his passions. Like forensic science.

“I miss you guys too. It’s been a while.”

“Well, hey. We’re actually all getting together tonight at my place. Nothing big. Just a bonfire and a couple beers. You should stop by,” John B says.

“Yeah,” Pope says, immediately getting hopeful that you’ll show up.

Your smile falters. The invite makes your heart swell and your lungs contract. It’s an invite you’ve been wanting for three years. And now that you have it, you don’t know what to say. It’d be different if it was just the four of you like old times. But now there’s Kie and Sarah and although you have nothing against them, you’re afraid they won’t accept you. The thought of your boys picking them over you terrifies you.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll try to swing by later.”

Pope smiles wide and looks at his friend to see his reaction. John B grins and nods, almost impressed that you had agreed. But he saw the twitch in your lips when the question was asked.

“Great. I guess we’ll see you later then.”

You nod. “Okay. Bye guys.”

You suck in a deep breath when the fresh air outside of Heyward’s store brushes over you. Your heart thumps wildly with both excitement and nerves when you’re finally able to collect your thoughts. You don’t know what you’ll do tonight, but the possibilities can change your entire summer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You spent the rest of the day mopping up the cafe’s basement and rearranging the shelves. You smelled of sweat and coffee grounds by the time you were done and dreamt of the shower you would be taking when you got home.

Rory drove you home after the two of you closed up the cafe for the day. Neither of you said much. Rory was exhausted from running around behind the counter and you were too busy thinking about whether you’d go back to the place you used to call your second home.

You took a longer shower than usual, still pondering what your night would be like. Your head was telling you to stay home but your heart pulled you in the direction of the Cut. You yearned to hear about what the future held for Pope, and listen to John B retell stories of when you were kids, and be able to stare into JJ’s bright blue eyes without him noticing.

You changed into a pair of jean shorts and a plain red cropped tank. Rory walks into your room as your brushing out your hair and looks at you as if you lost your mind.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t wear that,” She says.

You brows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about? I wear shit like this all the time.”

“Not to the Country Club, you don’t.” That’s when it hits you. Today’s been so hectic, you forgot what day it was. “It’s Sunday.”

Sunday dinner at the Country Club is now a weekly commitment forced upon you by your grandparents. Each week, your mom, sister, and you are forced to spend one dinner with your grandma and grandpa. This is basically your mom’s payment back for sending you and Rory to Kook Academy. Only they actually pay for the dinner. It’s usually the longest two hours of your entire week. It’s hard to listen to your grandfather rant about Real Estate and your grandma slyly critique your mother in almost every aspect of her life.

“Shit. I completely forgot,” You say.

“Well, you better change. We’re leaving in about five minutes,” Rory says then plucks a gold necklace from your dresser. “Oh and can I wear this tonight?”

You sigh. “Sure.”

You change into a baby blue wrap around dress and pin your wet hair into a half up half down due. It’s gonna have to work for the limited time you have to get ready. After applying a thin layer of makeup to look the least bit presentable, you meet your mom and sister by the front door.

“Finally,” Your mom says when she sees you.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize it was Sunday.”

“It’s okay, honey. I just don’t think I can handle another late remark from Mom today.” She looks you up and down and grins. “You look great.”

Despite the many fiery fights you and your mom can have, she is also your best friend. It’s kind of like a love hate relationship. Steve says it’s because you’re exactly like your mom - almost like a sixteen year old version of her.

You really hope that isn’t true. You’re not ready to have a kid in two years.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Your grandparents are already sitting at a round table in the corner of the country club by the two tall windows that reach up to the ceiling with a view looking out into the golf course. The best seat in the house for the richest a holes on the island.

“Lorelai,” Your grandmother grins, but you can instantly tell it’s sarcastic. “Did you have to walk here?”

You speak up before your mom could. “Sorry Grandma. It’s my fault we’re late.”

Your grandparents are hard on your mom but easier on you and Rory, especially Rory.

“Well, you’re here now,” Your grandpa says. He’s usually the mediator between your mom and grandma. Although he’s usually sucks at it. “Sit. Sit.”

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, JJ shuffles through his many coworkers with his apron in one hand and a piece of fried calamari from Miss Carol’s appetizer in the other.

“JJ -” She scolds and slaps his hand away from going in for a second piece.

“Good evening Miss Carol,” JJ smirks and makes his way to the area between the kitchen and dining room where most of the servers and bust boys hang out. Some of the boys slap him on the back or shove him by the shoulder, chuckling to themselves. “What’s going on boys? Busy crowd?”

“What are you doing here? You never work Sundays,” His friend, Mitch, says.

Luke Maybank was behind on several bills - worse than it’s ever been. They already shut off their electricity and JJ wanted to make sure the water wouldn’t be next.

But JJ shrugs nonchalantly. “Little extra dough can't hurt.”

“Well, you picked a good day,” Raymond walks up to the blonde, rolling his sleeves. “You got Kook Royalty and their Hybrid offsprings in your section.”

“What?” JJ looks through the small square Plexiglas on the swinging door. He knows exactly where to look and immediately sees you sitting with King and Queen Kook, looking absolutely miserable, pushing around your food with your fork.

“Damn, Maybank. Almost broke your neck - you turned so fast.”

“Shut up, Easterling. I was just seeing how crowded we were,” JJ lied. He really just wanted to see if you were here. And now that he sees you are, he’s a little nervous to do his own damn job.

Raymond Easterling chuckles. “Yeah, I know what you were looking at. But don’t get your hopes up. There’s a reason Kooks call that girl the Heart Sucker. Not even the high and powerful JJ Maybank could get a piece of that.”

The guys around JJ and Raymond chuckle and nod in agreement, hearing the stories of how you’d reject every single guy that’s ever asked you out. Sometimes you’d go on a few dates, trying to push yourself out of your comfort zone, but then things would quickly become too much, and you’d get overwhelmed.

JJ didn’t like the way Raymond talked about you or how the others laughed at your expense. His hands clenched into fists, tempted to throw a punch in Ray’s cocky face. The guy’s just being a jerk because he’s one of the guys that got rejected by you, he thought.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ shakes his head and ties his apron around his waist to distract his hands.

“No?” Raymond challenges him. “You think I’m wrong? You think you could pull the infamous Hybrid over there?”

JJ glances back through the window. You’re looking at your grandma with a clearly forced grin. You’re twirling your hair between your fingers, a habit you picked up when you were little to do when you’re bored. JJ would find you doing that in school all the time.

You’re gorgeous, he thought. It’s no wonder that almost every guy on this island has tried to make a pass on you, including JJ himself, but his remarks always come off as playful, afraid of actually telling you how he feels about you. His fantasies about you went further than just getting you between the sheets. He could picture getting married, having children, and growing old together. Years ago, the two of you would talk about your future. Neither one of you cared about money or fancy jobs. All you wanted was to be free - of this island, of each other’s families, of responsibilities placed on you from birth. You hold the same values as JJ, and he’s never met another person like you.

But JJ has a hard exterior. No one other than his best friends know his true heart, and he wasn’t going to let someone like Raymond Easterling find out about his soft spot for you. He would never hear the end of it.

JJ looks at you one last time. You’re talking to Rory, your face in his direction. This time you’re smiling, probably discussing something other than your grandparent’s expectations of you. He’d kill to see that smile every single day.

What’s the worst that could happen? You reject him? Yeah, that might kill JJ inside, but maybe you’d still be his friend, or continue to be acquaintances like you are now. As long as he gets to see you, he’d be okay. There was always the future. But who knows? Maybe you’d say yes? He’ll never know unless he tries. Right?

JJ fakes the same cocky grin that Raymond wears. “I haven’t failed yet.”

The guys around him whistle and shake their heads with smiles.

“All right, Maybank. Let’s make a bet. I’ll give you one hundred dollars to get Y/N Y/L/N in the sack by the fourth of July.”

JJ scoffs. “You like giving away free money?” He ignored his racing heart at the thought of being that intimate with you.

Raymond nods. “Okay. Let’s put your money where your mouth is. Get her to say ‘I love you’ by the end of the season and I’ll raise you an extra hundred and cover all your dishwasher shifts in September.”

JJ raises his brows with surprise. No one offers to take the dishwashing shift. Sometimes the boys are pulled back there when the kitchen is short staffed and it’s easily one of the worst jobs at the Club.

This bet was almost too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Deal.” JJ says.

The boys shake hands on it and the other guys whisper to each other about how intrigued they are to see this play out.

JJ wipes his sweaty palms against his apron and pushes the door open to approach your table, hoping he can hear you over his thudding heart.

“Good evening folks. May I take those empty plates out of your way?”

You look up at the voice you know so well and a smile raises on your lips. JJ meets your eyes and he winks at you, splattering your heart in flutters.

“Please.” Your grandmother pushes her plate away from her, stuffed with filet and red wine.

“JJ,” Your mom grins up at him. Growing up, your mom always had a soft spot for the blonde Pogue. She’s heard the stories about his father, mostly from Steve, who actually grew up with Luke Maybank, his cousin. As a child, he was sent to live with Luke Maybank and his single father. Lets just say, he’s not surprised by the way Luke turned out. “Look at you. You’re all grown up now. Last time I saw you, Y/N was still pushing your head in the sand for stealing her popsicle.”

“Yeah. I quickly learned no one should mess with Y/N and her food,” JJ says.

“Never stopped you though,” You smirk at him.

“Lorelai. Who is this?” Your grandma asks, disregarding the boy himself.

“Mom,” Lorelai gives her mom a warning look. “This is JJ Maybank. He went to school with Y/N and Rory.” Lorelai knew to play it safe with her wording. She didn’t know where you and JJ stood. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him and she knew better than to ask.

“Nice to meet you,” JJ says politely. “I’d shake your hand but mine are kinda full.” He motions to the plates in his hand.

“That’s quite all right.” Your grandma’s smile is so forced, it makes you uncomfortable.

“I won’t hold you up. Has your server been around with the dessert menu?” JJ looks at you. “We have chocolate cake tonight.”

Heat rushes up your neck. Not because of the cake itself but because JJ remembered your favorite dessert. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. It was safe to save you were a choco-holic. The boys use to make it for you every year for your birthday. It usually came out burnt, none of them ever remembering how to properly make it. But it was all you needed to feel like a very special girl.

“Your favorite,” Rory elbows you.

Your grandma cringes. “Sounds like diabetes on a plate.”

“Mom,” Lorelai scolds.

“What?” She asks, not understanding the concept of a filter.

Now heat rushes to your cheeks for an entire different reason. “He did. We’re not doing dessert tonight. Thank you, though.”

JJ nods but feels disappointed by the way your face flinched at your grandmother’s comment.

“My pleasure,” He says like he was taught to do and excuses himself to drop the plates off in the back before he can say anything else that would probably get him fired.

Your mom looks at your with raised brows. “He’s cute, honey.”

“Lorelai, please. He’s the busboy,” Your grandma says.

“He’s a good kid, Mom.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” You stand up. “I have to use the restroom.”

Rory gives you a knowing grin as you walk away from the table. When you walk into the hallway between the dining area and the front lobby, you immediately feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sometimes just the presence of your grandparents and their pompous judgements can be suffocating. You do your best to bite your tongue around them, excusing yourself when you feel yourself getting heated.

JJ catches a glimpse of your light blue dress out of the corner of his eye when he rounds the corner to collect the plates off a different table. He looks over his shoulder at Raymond, who’s staring at the blonde watching you, and winks.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ says, walking up to you.

You look up from your phone and immediately smile. “Hey. I was actually hoping I’d catch you out here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nervously tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry about my grandmother. She can be...”

JJ shakes his head. “Hey. It’s okay. I work for Kooks almost every single day. I’m use to it.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control,” JJ says. “Besides, that’s probably the nicest she’s ever been to me.”

You hide your face in your hands. “Stop. You’re making it worse.”

JJ laughs and takes your wrists in his hands, slowly pulling them away from your face. Your eyes shoot up to his, immediately feeling a tingling feeling run through your skin, straight to your heart.

“It’s okay. I promise,” He says softly. His voice is so sincere that you have no other option but to believe him. It almost makes your feel guiltier, wondering how much bullshit he’s been through with ungrateful Kooks that it’s so easy for him to forgive and forget.

“Okay,” Your voice is a whisper, taken off guard by how close he is to you and how he still hasn't let go of your hands.

In that same moment, JJ realizes he’s still holding you and gently removes his hands. He coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, where sweat begins to bubble. Why is he so nervous?

“So um...” You say, suddenly feeling nervous too. “You going to John B’s tonight?”

JJ’s eyes shoot up in surprise. How did you know that? “Yeah. I’m heading over there after work.”

“I saw him and Pope at Heywards earlier today and they invited me over. I wasn’t sure if I should come or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Because it’s different now, you wanted to say. But you didn’t because you feel like the elephant in the room would only grow. And you didn’t want to admit you were nervous to meet Kie and Sarah outside of school.

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You should definitely come. The boys miss you.”

You pretend like a little piece of your heart didn’t just break when JJ didn’t say ‘we.’

“What time do you get off of work?”

“Around 9ish.”

You nod. “I can pick you up if you’d like and we could go together?”

Your heart races after you suggest it. What if he says no? Why were you feeling this way? This is the same kid you use to make fun of for pouring milk into his bowl before his cereal.

“Yeah. That’d be perfect.”

“Great!” Your phone pings with a text from Rory, telling you that your grandparents are wondering where you are. “Shit. I have to get back. I’ll see you at nine?”

“See you then,” JJ nods and turns back to the kitchen. When his eyes meet Raymond’s, he’s reminded of what he agreed to. Almost surprised how quickly he forgot about it. You were able to take his mind off of anything without even trying. He clears his throat to get rid of the giddy grin he was wearing after talking to you, wanting to look tough and casual in front of his coworker. “Easy.” He says to him. But that felt anything but easy. He could vomit with nerves.

“There’s still plenty of time for you to screw up, Maybank.”

JJ huffs. He’s not wrong.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You drive up to the front of the country club and park in front of the main entrance. It’s 8:57. You’re early and will look eager. So you wait until 9:06 to text him that you’re here.

You changed into a pair of dark washed denim shorts, a yellow cropped tube top, a grey flannel, and navy converse. You changed your outfit about four times before deciding on your first one, not wanting to look too casual or too dressed up.

For the last three years, you wondered when the four of you would get back together as a group. You wondered if it would ever happen. And now that two Kooks are involved, you feel more nervous than excited.

You jump when the passenger seat door opens, lost in the depth of your own head. JJ smiles, not seeing your reaction.”Cool ride,” he says and looks around the interior.

“Thanks,” you say, pulling out into the road.

“I got you something,” JJ says.

You glance at him with furrowed brows. What could he have possibly gotten you since you saw him last? A book mark from the Country Club’s gift shop?

JJ reaches into his backpack and pulls out a plate with clear wrap around it. Your mouth drops when you see the chocolate cake on a plate in his hands, the smell immediately hitting your nose with pure delight.

“You saved me a piece?” You jump in your seat excitedly.

“Had to hide it good too or else Miss Carol would have had my ass handed to me,” JJ jokes and even pulls out two forks. He undoes the wrapping and cuts off a piece. He waits until you hit a stop sign and says, “Open up.”

You look at him and immediately open your mouth. He gently places the fork between your lips and you take the piece of cake off with your teeth. Like a baby.

Your eyes close with pure pleasure. “Oh my god. That’s amazing.”

“Miss Carol does know how to bake a mean cake,” JJ says and takes a bite of his own.

“Another one,” You say, glancing at the cake again. Like you said, choco-holic. “Please.” You say when JJ teases you by holding the fork away from you.

JJ laughs. “I like hearing you beg.”

You slap him in the arm with the back of your hand. “In your dreams, Maybank.”

“You got that right, Y/L/N.”

The two of you finish the cake with only a few bites each. Small but rich in chocolate that leaves you craving more. You were gonna have to meet this Miss Carol woman.

After he puts the plate back in his bag, JJ reaches for the aux cord, but you quickly slap his hand away. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re seriously gonna make me listen to this the entire way to John B’s?”

You scoff. “I’ll have you know Blink-182 is one of my favorite bands.”

“It’s also soccer moms’ favorite band,” JJ laughs at you.

You turn up the volume, blasting ‘All the Small Things’ and point to your ear. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

JJ rolls his eyes but laughs along with you, even bopping his head to the beat. You drive with the windows down, dancing and singing along to a bunch of throwback songs with JJ as if the two of you have been doing this forever.

You pull up to John B’s and park behind his dad’s old van, better known as The Twinkie. When you turn down the music, JJ looks at you with a shake in his head. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“What was wrong with my driving?”

“We’re in the Outer Banks, Sparky, not NASCAR.”

You scoff and follow behind JJ who’s leading the way up John B’s driveway. As you get closer, you smell the smoky scent of a bonfire nearby and eventually hear John B’s laugh mixed in with a female’s. Your smile falters as nerves gather in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks.

“Nothing,” You say, but JJ easily catches your lie and gives you a knowing look. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Who? Pope and John B? I’m pretty sure they like you more than me even after three years -”

“Not them, you idiot,” You shove him playfully by the shoulder as you two let yourselves inside. “Sarah and Kie.”

“Don’t you go to school with them?”

“Yeah, but we don’t talk,” You say quietly, not wanting them to hear you.

“Hm.”

“What?” JJ shrugs. “Nothing. I just didn’t think you cared about what other people thought.”

“I don’t,” You say quickly. “But they're your best friends. It’s different.”

“You don’t need their approval. You technically were here first.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been replaced,” You try to say it as a joke and even throw a smirk in there.

But JJ stops in his track and looks at you seriously. “No one can replace you. Not even if they tried.”

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s not a common occurrence that JJ gets all serious on you. Warmth covers you like a blanket and the longer he holds your stare, the weaker your knees become.

“JJ! Is that you?” John B calls out from the backyard.

“Yeah,” JJ yells back. He opens the fridge in John B’s kitchen. “Want a beer?” He offers to you.

You shake your head. “No thanks.”

For the first time, you take in John B’s home. It looks the same as it did three years ago, only a lot messier. The pull out couch looks like its been used recently with blankets and sheets tossed about on it. Empty beer cans and cigarette butts are thrown messily on the coffee tables and the air smells faintly of old marijuana.

JJ leads you out to the back where four people are gathered around a fire. Three out of the four immediately smile when the two of you approach them, but Kie’s eyes narrow and her head tilts with confusion.

Shit, you think.

“You came!” Pope laughs and hops up from his beach chair and embraces you in a hug.

You laugh, not expecting the embrace, but welcoming it all the same. John B’s next, giving you a quick hug and shaking his head.

“I gotta say, I didn’t think you were going to come,” John B says.

“You can thank me for that later,” JJ says jokingly.

“Actually when I heard JJ was coming, I almost changed my mind and stayed home,” You joke and smirk JJ’s way.

“Just like old times,” Pope says, looking between you and the blonde. The banter felt like the yall never separated in the first place.

“Hey, you know Sarah and Kie, right?” John B points to the girls. Sarah stands up to say hi, and eventually Kie follows her, not wanting to look rude, but stays off to the side, keeping her distance.

“Yeah,” You wave awkwardly.

“Hey!” Sarah says sweetly. “I didn’t realize you guys use to all hang out.”

“Y/N grew up down the street,” JJ explains and sips at his beer.

“You want a drink or something?” Pope asks you, not knowing JJ already did.

“No thank you,” You say again.

“You don’t drink?” Kie asks. It was the first thing she’s said to you.

“Not usually,” You say and hold her stare. You try to get a read on her, but she’s had to get a tell on. You can’t tell if she just doesn’t like you or just doesn’t know you. Either way, it makes you uneasy.

“Here, I’ll go grab you a chair,” Pope says and walks to the side of the house to grab another beat up beach chair.

As the night goes on, you feel the tension in your shoulders loosen and your body feel lighter. Most of the night was spent retelling childhood stories the four of you shared. Sarah would laugh at most of them, occasionally rolling her eyes at her boyfriend from the stupid shit he would do, although it sounds like he’s no different to you now.

You talked about the time you and JJ stole a golf cart for a joy ride on Figure Eight, or when you and John B pranked Pope by putting a dead fish in his locker, or how you and John B learned how to play guitar from youtube tutorials.

Midnight came around quickly and exhaustion was slowly taking over your body. It’s been a long day between the cafe flooding, dinner with your grandparents, and now this.

JJ was the first to notice you slowly fading.

“You okay?” He asks you quietly as everyone else is caught up in conversation.

“Yeah,” You say, lazily grinning at him.

“We can leave if you want,” He says.

“You’re not staying?” You ask. It sounded like everyone was planning to spend the night here. And as much as you wanted to, you just didn’t feel comfortable enough yet.

JJ shrugs. “My dad’s out of town tonight. It’ll be nice to have the house to myself.” Before you can say anything, he stands and brushes his hands against his pants. “All right, losers. We’re out of here.”

“Aw, you’re leaving?” Sarah pouts.

“Yeah, I’m beat and Y/N’s my ride home,” JJ says.

You were glad he didn’t call you out for being tired. You didn’t want to look lame in front of everybody, especially Kie.

“Thanks for having me,” You say to everyone. It might have been John B’s house, but it was everyone’s night you intruded on.

John B stands up to hug you. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You nod. “I won’t. I promise.”

Pope hugs you next. “Text me when you get back safe.”

“I will.”

“Bye!” Sarah waves and Kie exhales a ring of smoke from her blunt.

You wave at them before following JJ back to your car.

“Nuh-uh-uh,” JJ says. You didn’t realize you both walked to the driver’s side.

“What? No.”

JJ nods and holds his hands out for your keys. “I’m not dying tonight.”

“You’ve been drinking and smoking all night,” You say. You didn’t think JJ was drunk or even that high, but you were not going to let a teenager with an ounce of alcohol in his system get behind the wheel. “Next time. For now, hold on to the cupholder.”

JJ sighs dramatically and goes to the other side of the car and hops in the passenger seat.

This time you keep the music quiet, listening to the hum of the radio instead of your phone.

“Take a left,” JJ says.

“JJ, I know where you live. And it’s not left.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

You snicker. “Not in the slightest.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “Just take the left.”

You hold your hands up in surrender and take the left turn. He directs you for a couple more miles until he has you park in front of a 24 hour diner.

“What are we doing here?” You ask.

“I’m in the mood for a milkshake.”

“We just had cake!” You say.

“Come on, Sparky. Show me what that mouth can do,” JJ smirks.

You go to hit him again but he takes off running to the front entrance and pulls the door open. You chase after him, almost running into his back at the front host stand where JJ safely smirks at you in triumph.

“Two please,” He says to the hostess.

The old cranky woman leads you to a booth off to the side next to a window without a word.

A couple minutes later, a waitress walks by and asks if you’re ready to order.

“Yes. One chocolate milkshake and one black and white milkshake,” JJ orders for both of you, already knowing what flavor you’d want.

“And fries, please.” You say. The waitress nods, takes your menus, and walks off. JJ raises his brow at the extra order. “What?” You shrug. “Just showing you what my mouth can do.”

JJ scoffs. “What a tease.”

You playfully kick his shin under the table.

“Did you have fun tonight?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” You answer. “Felt like old times. The girls are nice too.”

You were about to only mention Sarah, but you didn’t want to cause any issues with Kie. Not yet at least. Maybe she just needed time to warm up to you.

“See? I told you they wouldn’t bite.”

A couple minutes later, the waitress comes back with your milkshakes and fries.

“How’s John B doing? You know, with the whole Big John thing?” You ask delicately, unsure of how JJ would react to you pestering about John B’s business. “I didn’t want to ask and bring the mood down,” You explain yourself although you don’t need to.

JJ shrugs. “He’s in denial I think. Won’t sign a death certificate until he sees a body. He could be worse, though.”

“Yeah,” You say softly. You don’t know what you would do if you were in that situation. In a way you felt lucky that you never knew your dad at all. It would be harder to lose him, knowing who he was.

You take a fry and dip it into your milkshake before taking a bite. This makes JJ freeze and look at you like you have two heads.

“What?” You say with your mouth full.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” You say and give him a look to do it.

JJ reluctantly picks up the fry and dunks it into his milkshake. He looks at the fry questioningly before popping it into his mouth. Somehow the sweetness of the milkshake and the saltiness of the french fry complement each other beautifully and his widen in pleasant surprise.

“Oh wow,” JJ says.

“Told you,” You smirk.

You spend the next hour catching up, trying to fit the last three years into an hour. JJ does most of the talking because you want to know more about what John B, Pope, and JJ have been up to. Your life was so boring and depressing, you didn’t want to bore JJ with the details.

You drive JJ home and talk for a few minutes more when you park. He seems to be procrastinating getting out of the car, but you don’t mind. You could talk to him all night, suddenly not feeling tired anymore.

“All right. I’ll let you get home before the sun rises,” He says and opens the door. He pauses when his feet hit the ground and he looks back at you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have to work at the shop, why?”

“Well, there’s a storm coming in. John B and I might go out to surf the surge before it hits. You still surf?”

You scoff. “Do I still surf?”

JJ holds his hands up in surrender. “Just checking. You think you can handle the surge?”

“Let’s not forget who the better surfer is, JJ.”

“I didn’t. It’s still me.”

“You wish.”

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Now you have a point to prove. You have to show JJ that you’re still the better surfer.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” You agree.

“Great, it’s a date.” He winks and shuts the door before you can tell him otherwise.

You giggle to yourself as JJ walks up the front yard and stay there until he you see he gets in safely.

You pull out of the driveway, wishing he had asked you out on a real date. One that didn’t involve John B.

Tag list: @super-funky-bisexual @sunsetswithjj @moniamaybank @throwawayfish @poguestyle17 @5am-cigarette @jjpouggues @fly-away-from-here @buckys2thicc

#JJ Imagine #jj fic #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj obx #jj fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks imagines #outer banks fic #jj maybank one shot

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legends-live-in-memories · 3 years

Text

Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century

AYO! Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle! Team Enemies-to-Lovers for the win. I bring you another oneshot. but this time i used 3 prompts like a dumbass.

Fics Masterlist

Daminette Oneshot 4.3K words (no warnings except slight cursing)

Summary:

“Marinette is invited to the Super-Rockin' Wedding of the Century and she needs a date. Alya is both her best and worst wingman.”

Day 2 of MGI Trope Tussle, I used 3 prompts to make this thing: 1. "You don't have to like me, you just need to pretend you do." 2. "I like your costume. You look very cute." "Are you making fun of me?" 3. 'Write about a very unusual wedding proposal.' this is the culmination of all my efforts.

without further ado:

It was the biggest news on the internet. Global sensation, international rockstar, Jagged Stone, was officially engaged to childhood friend turned manager, Penny Rolling. Memes and fan theories stormed every corner of the web. Trending topics including #rockstar_wedding and #RollingStone permeated every social media platform. Guest lists were speculated, dress designers were tagged in every post that even mentioned the words ‘wedding’ or ‘bride’. It was total mayhem but none felt it worse than up-and-coming Parisian designer, M. D. Cheng, privately known as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

The young adult was up to her neck in design templates, and was drowning in half-baked ideas and sketches. While the internet has only heard about the proposal for a solid two weeks at this point, Marinette was in the know for six months. Jagged Stone had contacted her in advance because he needed her help with the proposal itself.

And what a proposal it was.

Jagged had outlined his idea in simple terms but it was still so mind-boggling that Marinette needed him to draw some visual aids to completely convey his idea. Initially it sounded simple enough but the more the man spoke, the more Marinette felt her brain fry at the mental picture. It first involved recreating a scene from Penny’s favourite movie. Which sounded rather romantic, if you ignored the fact that her favourite movie was Bride of Chucky. Then it involved Jagged dressed as the Tinman from Wizard of Oz. Oh, and the proposal had to happen on Halloween because that was the anniversary of their first date apparently, and based on everything else this plan entailed it might as well have been. Marinette’s role in all of this was to simply re-make the white wedding dress Chucky’s bride, Tiffany, wore because Penny already had the leather jacket to match. Of course she did. She didn’t even want to know how Jagged acquired the Tinman suit. Not her barrel of monkeys.

While many thought Jagged was the eccentric one of the pair, due to his loud personality and being an actual rockstar, the more Marinette worked for the two of them over the years, the more she learned how absolutely wrong they all were. It turned out it was Penny’s idea for Jagged to dye his hair purple, and she was the one to ask him out on Halloween all those faithful years ago. Her calm and collected demeanor was an impressive cover for the absolute weirdo she actually was. And Jagged had planned a proposal that was undoubtedly perfect for her. Regardless of how abso-fucking-lutely bizarre it was.

To each their own and let’s move on.

The set-up for the proposal started with Jagged, dressed as the Tinman, playing the part of Chucky, who begins the body-switching chant from the movie. Everything from that point on was resting on Penny’s love for the movie. Without hesitating, Penny, dressed as Tiffany, and playing her part, knew the lines by heart and immediately began reenacting the scene with Jagged. Her lines involved telling ‘Chucky’ to kiss her while she reaches for a knife that’s supposed to be in his pocket. Instead, as Jagged was still dressed as the Tinman, Penny pulled out a slip of paper. On said paper, the words ‘All the Tinman wanted was a heart’ were written in Jagged’s almost illegible chicken scratch. When Penny was distracted with the piece of paper, Jagged had gotten down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring. The actual words of his proposal were never actually said because, upon seeing the ring, Penny flung herself into the man, clipping her chin into his metal-plated shoulder, but she wasn’t complaining.

So that was how the proposal went.

Wedding planning started almost immediately since the newly engaged had already picked a theme. And this is where Marinette began to regret every life choice she has made since she was thirteen; starting with opening the mysterious box she found on her desk and ending with agreeing to being the main designer for the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. One thing that wasn’t well-known but not a secret about Jagged was that he was a superhero fan. He grew up enjoying the fictional ones in his childhood comic books and he adored the real ones he witnessed in his adult life. His song that he dedicated to the teenage Ladybug was only one part of his… appreciation. His hero-worship went so far as to beieve that a hero-themed wedding was appropriate. Or he didn’t, but also didn’t care about adhering to societal propriety and went with that theme anyways. So the Rockin’ Wedding of the Century was now the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. And twenty-three year old Marinette was incharge of the entire wedding party’s outfits.

Perfect.

As a small mercy from some god, both the bride and groom to-be had a rather short list of people in their parties. Marinette was also able to design appropriate hero-themed outfits for all of them and scheduled them for fittings in the coming weeks. That, surprisingly, was the easy part as there were plenty of heroes to draw inspiration from. However, that wasn’t the cause of her current crisis right now.

No. Marinette was up to her neck in unnecessary designs and ideas because she’s been avoiding one particular contingency in her acceptance of the wedding invitation.

She needed a date.

She needed a date because she had promised Penny that she wasn’t overworking herself and to prove it, she would bring a date to the wedding. Rather than call any of the people who expressed interest in her at some point in time, she designated herself to wallow in her situation and distract herself with designs. In the midst of her one person pity party, her phone rang under the sea of ripped out pages. She scoured for the device and hastily answered before she could accidently send the caller to voicemail.

“Hello?” She didn’t check the caller ID and was delighted at the sound of her best friend answering her.

“Marinette! How’s it going over there?” Alya’s voice was mixed in with the busy street life of Metropolis. She had moved there immediately after high school, snatching an internship with the Daily Planet and attending the local community college. She and Marinette don’t call often due to time differences, but when they do it’s like they’ve never parted. She always looked forward to her calls.

“It’s going great, Als,” if she ignored her current dilemma, then yeah, everything was perfect. “But you wouldn’t happen to have an available bachelor willing to be my date to the ‘Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century’ in your back pocket, would you?”

Alya’s answering laugh was both comforting and teasing and Marinette felt herself missing her even more. What she said next, however, took Marinette by surprise.

“Actually I do.”

“Pardon?”

“Well,” she took a pause to build suspense. “I know a guy who knows a guy. But it’s nothing shady, I swear.”

“That’s not comforting.” Oh god. What has she unintentionally signed herself up for?

“You know my coworker, Jon? The guy who does the photography for all my field work?” Alya had met Jon as soon as she had started her internship. Both of his parents were top journalists at the Daily Planet so he volunteered to act as tour guide for all the new interns. He and Alya, from the exasperated stories Marinette has heard from Nino, got along like a house on fire. If he was involved, Marinette was starting to doubt even further that this was going to end well for her.

“Yes, I know Jon. How is he by the way?”

“He’s fine, but I remember him telling me how he tried to set up his best friend on several dates over the years and how they all ended poorly. He’s as approachable as a brick wall; not just a prick but the whole damn cactus. Or so Jon says.” How does that sound like someone Marinette wanted to bring along with her to the wedding? “But he’s totally your type so I could ask Jon to wrap him up in bubblewrap and send him your way whenever you want.”

“How,” and Marinette said this with a lot of feeling, “is he my type exactly?”

“Green eyes with daddy issues.”

“ALYA!” Marinette was absolutely floored at her bluntness. She wasn’t even sorry about shouting into the receiver.

“Am I wrong? You have a type and he fits that type. Jon mentioned how this guy and his dad hit several roadblocks when they first met. And I’ve seen pictures of him so ‘green eyes’ checks too.”

“That is not my type of guy.” She can’t believe this was how this conversation was going.

“Adrien.”

“I didn’t even know who his father was at the time, Alya.”

“Felix.”

“His dad is dead! That doesn’t count as ‘daddy issues.’” She can feel her cheeks flaming as the call went on. Any hotter and she was going to set her sketchbooks on fire. “Besides, I dated Luka so he doesn’t fit the criteria.”

“He’s an outlier and that’s only because his eyes are blue.” Okay, fine she had a type. “And besides, you don’t even have to date the guy. You only need him to accompany you to the wedding and you both go your separate ways after. No harm, no foul.”

Right. That was true. No strings attached. She could do that.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” she held her breath and let it out loudly, ignoring Alya’s chuckle at her dramatics.” Give Jon my number to give this guy. And send his number to me.”

“Wahoo! Look at you, girl,” Alya was hooting and hollering over the speaker and Marinette found herself going along with the theatrics. “Okay, I will. But I gotta go, my cab is here. Bye!”

“Bye! Stay safe. Oh before you go, what’s Jon’s friend’s name anyways?”

“Uh, Damian, I think.” The call ended before Marinette could respond, but it was okay she mused. Tossing her phone onto her couch, she flopped down onto her floor and stared at her ceiling contemplatively.

What could go wrong?

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

When Alya had described this Damian guy as ‘not just a prick but the whole damn cactus,’ she was right. Marinette had been texting back and forth with Damian for a month, and the guy was making this idea seem less and less worth it by the day. Whenever Marinette tried to learn more about the guy, he would ghost her for days on end before replying with a half-assed response at best. She knew nothing about him other than that his first name was Damian and that he was from Gotham. She had no idea how the ball of life that was Jon was even friends with someone like Damian. She asked as much to Alya in their most recent call.

“How did they even meet?” She was pacing the floor plan of her apartment, ready to tear her hair out. “Did Damian bully him in school or something?”

“Apparently their dads knew each other and introduced them,” Alya sounded half awake, stifling a yawn; probably because Marinette had called her at 1 am, Metropolis’s time. “Their brothers being friends also forced them to get along.”

“And that’s another thing!” Marinette had paused in her pacing and was now staring intently at a potted plant in the corner of her living room. Any more rage in her glare and the plant would have wilted and died. “He doesn’t tell me anything about him. I don’t need to know all his personal information, but if he’s going to be flying out to Paris on my behalf, I think I at least deserve to know his last name.”

“Hey, M,” another yawn echoed through the speaker, “I love you, truly, but maybe this could wait for holier day time hours?”

“I guess,” a vindictive part of Marinette felt like this was payback for all those inopportune calls when Marinette was busy with clients. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep.”

“It’s no big deal. But have you tried talking to him about it? If he’s ghosting your texts, try calling him. If he ignores you then too then maybe you should try finding another person to be your plus one.”

“The wedding is in two weeks, Alya!” Marinette partially regrets waiting so long to vent her frustration about the situation but she had tried to tough it out. “I would have much preferred if you were my plus one. You sure there’s no way to convince your parents to skip out on the family trip?”

“Sorry, M. Once the news about the proposal hit the internet, I tried everything. I even tried to use work, saying that I could cover the ceremony for the newspaper. My folks won’t budge though. My dad’s aunt is important to him and he wants us all at the funeral.”

“Right, right, I forgot about that.” Now she felt like an ass. “Send you dad my condolences when you see him again.”

“Will do. Good morning, Marinette. And don’t worry too much about the guy. Everything will turn up great. I can feel it.”

“Thanks, Alya. Good night, get some sleep.”

The line went dead and Marinette let out a rather weary exhale. She had no idea how this was going to work. She pulled up her contacts and searched for what she had Damian saved as.

‘Douche’ flashed on her screen and she hit the call button without remorse. She didn’t care that it was also currently 1 am in Gotham. He didn’t deserve that much consideration from her.

“What?” His voice was gravely and deep. And also really pissed if his clipped tone was anything to go by.

“Damian? Hi, this is Marinette, the girl you’re accompanying to the wedding in two weeks?” Her voice was pitched as if she was dealing with an irritating customer. Fake and polite.

“I know who you are. Why are you calling me at this unreasonable hour?” Fair, but Marinette was still aggravated at him so she wouldn’t concede.

“I’m calling because we need to talk.” She heard him scoff over the line and she felt her blood boil even hotter. She took several calming breaths to reign her temper in. “Don’t hang up.”

“Look,” She didn’t give him a chance to refuse and kept talking, getting everything off her chest. “This wedding is important to me and I promised the bride I would bring a date. After that you can delete my number and we never have to speak to each other ever. You don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

“Whatever,” he sounded less annoyed from when he first answered the phone. “I will act as cordial as the situation requires, and nothing more. I also have my attire secured for the wedding and accommodations in Paris already prepared. I will see you at the wedding.”

“Than—” The sound of the call ending interrupted her and her frustration was back tenfold. With a cry in anguish she flung her phone onto her couch and stomped into her kitchen to channel her rage into baking.

Three loaves of bread and a dozen eclairs later, Marinette felt calm enough to finish the final touches on her outfit for the wedding.

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

It was the day of the Super-Rockin’ Wedding of the Century. The Rolling-Stone’s, as they were asking to be called, had kept the ceremony small. Relatively. Only two hundred invited guests, few of which were asked to bring a plus one. Marinette was over the moon at the array of outfits people were sporting. Some chose full-on cosplay while others, like herself, went for more subtle nods to the heroes. In honour of a previous Ladybug, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, Marinette based her outfit off of Wonder Woman’s uniform, Hippolyta’s daughter. A navy blue sequined halter top bodice that flows into a blood red A-line skirt. She paired it with a thick silver belt, silver gladiator heels rather than boots and broad silver arm cuffs. It was simple but effective. Besides, all attention should be on the bride and groom today.

A tap on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned only to come face first with red with black spots. Ladybug. Someone chose her as inspiration. How flattering. Looking up to see who was wearing the Ladybug-themed suit jacket, she stared at a pair of deep forest green eyes and a sneer to ruin that ridiculously handsome face. She recognized him from the photo Alya had sent some time ago. Damian.

“Hi, Damian,” at least one of them had to be civil and Marinette knew it was going to be her. But the idea that of all the heroes for him to choose from he chose her sent her into poorly stifled fits of giggling. Images of him going ‘Lucky Charm’ and ‘Miraculous Ladybug’ were almost too much to bear.

“I don’t know what’s so amusing about my choice of attire,” his face was starting to flush in similar shades to his jacket and that made Marinette laugh harder. “Ladybug is a well respected heroine and I thought it appropriate to pay homage while in her home city.”

“No. No no. There is nothing wrong with it. I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” His irritation was rather cathartic for the still giggling woman.

“No, I just didn’t think you would have put that much thought into your outfit for today. You always gave me the impression that you were ready to back out at any time.”

“I made a commitment and I had all intentions to see it through the end.”

“Could have fooled me.” And her snark was back. Now was not the time to pick a fight with the guy, he did fly all the way to Paris on her behalf after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” and Marinette wanted to know how he managed to sound so condescending with that statement. “How did you even get an invitation to this wedding anyways? You’re not a celebrity and you don’t look like family either.”

“Actually,” she said it with more force than what was probably necessary but his slightly accusatory tone was just so irritating. “I am the lead designer for the wedding party,” her chest was swimming with confidence at the chance to talk about her job. “I’ve worked with the bride and groom for years; M. D. Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette will deny to her grave the rush of satisfaction at the absolute gobsmacked look on Damian’s face. A real fish out of water. Mouth open wide ready to catch flies. She wished she could capture this moment forever.

The moment was over too soon because Damian was regaining his composure and slipping into his default stoic expression. He cleared his throat and fixed a look at Marinette. It was rather intense.

“I believe I owe you an apology then.” He looked put-out at admitting something so menial. “I believed you were nothing more than a socialite chain climber.”

“A what?”

“When Jon reached out to me saying that a friend of one of his coworkers needed a date for an event, and when that event turned out to be the wedding of someone of such popularity, I figured you were only trying to increase your own social status by showing up with me on your arm.”

“And you said ‘yes’ anyways?” Marinette was confused but pieces of the mystery that is Damian were starting to fit in place. But something else stuck out as odd to her. “Also, how would you being my date increase my social status anyhow?”

He scoffs before answering. Bitch.

“What? It wouldn’t be the first time one of Jon’s set-ups ended that way. Besides, we’ve had an agreement that I can’t turn down an offer until meeting the person face to face.” Weird deal but some friendships are just like, Marinette supposes. “And being seen with me is enough to make anyone more popular.”

“...And you are?”

“Damian… Wayne…” He spoke as if he was talking to a small child. As if it should be obvious who he was like he was some celeb— Oh shit.

A name had flashed into her mind. On the finalised guest list, Marinette had only seen it once in passing, there was a name that belonged to someone Jagged was rather excited to see. He said the friend was an old college buddy. She remembered that much. She had completely forgotten that ‘a billionaire playboy’ was also attached to the name. Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne. Suddenly everything in the past few months made perfect sense. The cold shoulder, the ghosting, and his prickly disposition. He was overly guarded because he had justified reasons to be. Now she felt like an ass.

“Oh.” Real intelligent, Marinette.

“Oh? What, you didn’t know?” He sounded incredulous at the notion and he had every right to be. Marinette could only shake her head. Words were failing her now, her brain trying to rewrite the memories of every interaction the two ever had.

She was saved from further mortification by a call for everyone to find their seats. The wedding was about to begin.

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

The ceremony was beautiful. Penny’s dress was a silver grey, tied back with a golden belt. Instead of a long train, Marinette had attached a black cape that shimmered in the right lighting. Penny wore a tiara with two peaks to imitate the ‘bat-ears.’ A Batman-themed wedding dress was not something she ever saw herself making, but she was proud at how beautiful and confident Penny looked in it. Jagged was adorn in a royal blue suit with bold red lapels. He also had a matching red cape. His hair was styled in the familiar sleek way Superman wears it. The two made quite the pair.

The reception was a lively affair. Jagged had dedicated several songs to his new wife and they dazzled the crowd on the dance floor. Marinette didn’t pay much attention to the speeches beyond a quick glance at Damian when his own father stepped up to the podium. He had buried his head in his hands, looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. A courtesy pat on the back was all Marinette gave to him.

The two hadn’t really spoken much since the revelation that they had completely misjudged each other. The awkward tension was almost palpable. As Marinette was gathering the courage to speak to him, to try and officially clear the air, she was being dragged by one of the bridesmaids onto the dancefloor. It was time for the bride to throw the bouquet. All the unmarried women were being corralled into a tight cluster and Marinette got swept up in the tide.

Marinette wasn’t focusing on the actual game, trying her hardest not to get trampled, when she saw something move in her periphery. Years of being Ladybug had left her with finely honed instincts so she could not be blamed when she immediately jumped and caught the incoming object. The bouquet. She had caught the bouquet. Oh that was just her luck. Deafening squeals of delight brought her out of her own head and she was suddenly being embraced in Penny’s arms. She returned the hug, sharing in her delight, before breaking away to sit down.

“Nice catch.” His voice had surprised her, she hadn’t expected him to speak to her for the rest of the night.

“Uh, thank you. Just lucky, I guess.” Damian didn’t get the chance to respond because he was being dragged by his own father to join all the bachelors in catching the garter. Marinette was equally uninterested in this spectacle and had let her mind wander to other things.

A loud uproar caught her attention again and her eyes zeroed in on Damian holding the tossed garter. He made his way back over to her, dropping himself into his seat gracelessly. The two sat in silence, contemplating the implications of them both catching the garter and bouquet. The games were done purely for tradition’s sake, with total disregard of what it was supposed to symbolise. Still. One’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Minutes ticked passed and Marinette was beginning to wonder if someone was going to talk about the elephant in the room.

“So,” Damian’s voice was slightly strained, like he wasn’t used to being this flustered. It was kind of endearing. Wait what?

“So.”

“While marriage seems far out of reach for right now,” Oh god. He was going to talk about it. “How does dinner sound, next Friday?”

“Wait,” he wanted to spend more time with her? After their disastrous first impressions? “Really?”

“Really. I believe we started off on the wrong foot,” he let out a soft chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Which isn’t really new for me, but it’s not everyday I meet someone who doesn’t recognise me at first glance. I think you’re someone who I would like to get to know better. If that is something you are also interested in.”

“Yeah,” Marinette knows all about wanting to get acquainted with someone who she’s had a bad first impression of. Just look at her past relationships. Wow, she really does have a type. Damning thoughts for later. “Friday works for me. Seven pm?”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details then.”

“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”

The rest of the evening was spent in companionable silence with small bouts of conversation in between. They shared a couple dances on the floor and parted ways at the end of the night with budding anticipation for Friday.

As Marinette was preparing for bed that night in the comfort of her apartment, she sent a text to Alya that her friend would see later in the day.

You were right, I do have a type :(

#maribat #daminette #maridami #mgi trope tussle #mgi- server event #enemies to lovers #speedrun #i #like a dumbass challenged myself to use three prompts and i delivered #i hope #i hope yall enjoy #tumblr do me a solid #dont hide my posts #please #im begging #ml x dc #mlb x dc #tumblr please stop hiding my posts #no beta this is tussle

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aerequets · 3 years

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can you give me some webtoon recommendations? name some of your favorites! :)

i am here to answer folks 😎

all of these webtoons can be found on webtoons.com! I'm not sure about the whole daily pass thing they've got going on (which sucks tbh) but like,,, you could probably find it online illegally. NOT THAT I CONDONE ILLEGAL ACTIVITY HAHAHAHA ᵖˢˢᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ

I'll split these up between completed and in progress :) most are still in progress though

COMPLETED

1) Gourmet Hound (166 chapters)

this is like, my all time favorite webtoon. it follows Lucy and her quest to find all the chefs that left her favorite restaurant, Dimanche! it’s a really heartfelt story and the food illustrations make you really hungry, so make sure you have a snack before you sit down to read it. each character’s name is also food-related, so that’s pretty cool too! and the diversity in this webtoon is AMAZING. it’s the only webtoon i’ve ever read that has a hijabi character in the main cast. the development is done really well and it explores themes of loving and letting go. all in all, it has a bit of everything. i personally love food-related things, and this centers around it, so i was set LOL

(also a bonus is that this webtoon has NOT succumbed to daily pass hell, so you can binge read the whole thing. legally.)

2) Hooky (200 chapters)

if you like stories of witches, this is the one! the summary and beginning chapters are deceptively lighthearted. DO NOT BE FOOLED! the story really develops further on and explores numerous conflicts, a big one being (if i remember correctly) witch vs. nonwitch. if you like to see struggles between two sides, not a good-and-evil but just people-who-want-the-best-for-themselves-and-their-loved-ones type of thing, this is good for that. also, sibling love! the two main characters are Dani and Dorian, and while there is someee romance, i like how this story centers around the siblings first and foremost. ALSO THE ART??? I LOVE HOW THE AUTHOR DRAWS SETTINGS SO MUCH and am unabashedly jealous because i am completely incapable of doing so just like,,,, even if the story doesn’t pull you in, you can at least stare at each panel for long stretches of time.

(unfortunately succumbed to daily pass, but you can read it on mangaowl or manganelo!)

3) Spirit Fingers (167 chapters)

aww, this one is cute. Amy is 18 and lacking in self confidence (her family definitely doesn’t help). but HEY she joins a wacky art club!! without her parents knowing!! HECK YEAH!! unfortunately it takes more than joining an art club for her to learn to love herself (it is a long journey after all!). i love this webtoon because it explores the problems of multiple people, not just amy: her high achieving brothers, her mother who had to give up her dream, the different members in the art club, Amy’s girl friends. the art is unique and has a cool watercolor-y texture! and the main couple is just adorable, too. if you’re an artist especially, i recommend this because that’s a big theme and you get to see these characters expand their art styles! which is very cool!

(you can read this one fully on 1stkissmanga)

now here’s where the majority of my recs are:

IN PROGRESS (all can be read on webtoon.com)

1) The Makeup Remover (currently 71 chapters)

i look forward to this every tuesday and friday because oh man!!!!!!!!! idk about you guys, but i am thinking about beauty standards A Large Amount of the time, especially when i consume media. and this webtoon is all about beauty standards (specifically in Korea, but still applicable like. everywhere). Main character Yeseul ends up having to partake in this beauty competition and, with her experiences through it, she begins seeing makeup and beauty standards for the huge role they play in society. i said it already but i LOVE LOVE LOVE this webtoon because it really challenges you as a reader to think about your own perspectives. why do we find the things/people beautiful that we do? what shapes our perception? how much of it is marketing, and how much of it shows in our daily lives? what assumptions do you make about people based on how they look? AGHH im sounding like an essay prompt instead of a reviewer but man. if you like webtoons that examine society through a critical lens (gosh i sound like an english teacher), this is the one.

2) Odd Girl out (currently 261 chapters; on season 2)

okay, first and foremost: if you’re NOT into long winded drama, this probably isn’t it for you. i will admit im not a fan of long problems that get dragged out, especially in a school setting, but i did keep reading this webtoon and i am glad that i did! the character development here is amazing and ONE CRUCIAL THING is that the whole first season (which is many, many chapters. at least over 100) focuses on the friendship between our main 4 girls. if you don’t wanna wait for a romance storyline (which comes in season 2), then you’ve gotta have the patience of a saint. i loved this though because lots of romance webtoons cast friendships aside or use them to further the romantic plot. platonic relationships are great to read about and this one does it masterfully! main character nari is resilient and emotionally strong, and it’s great to see her ruin her enemies

3) Cursed Princess Club (currently 110 chapters; on break before the final season)

this is another one about beauty and societal expectations, but in a fantasy setting! it’s really funny and the cast of characters is heartwarming. Gwen is a princess, but she doesn’t look like the typical princess. she accidentally stumbles upon the Cursed Princess Club, which is exactly what it sounds like: a club for princesses that have been cursed and are trying to find their self worth despite not being conventional princesses! now that i think about it, this is like a lighthearted mixture of Makeup Remover and Spirit Fingers. although while i do say “lighthearted”, this webtoon has its fair share of mysteries and exploration of deeper topics. but its funny throughout

4) Brass & Sass (currently 83 chapters)

ahh this one is really cute and the art is cute, too! i also like how this has a diverse cast. high schooler Camilla kinda sucks at band, but dangit if she’s not passionate. Victor is some type of musical prodigy but he’s a brass-hole (hahaha get it. no that’s not original i ripped it from the summary). now i KNOW I KNOW, the whole “perky girl and asshole guy” is so overplayed BUT DON’T FRET! this isn’t the type of story where the girl “fixes” the guy, or where the guy is an asshole to everyone except the girl. believe me, the character development and relationship development in this story is SPLENDID. there’s no real antagonist. it’s just a bunch of high schoolers trying their best to make themselves and everyone else happy, and that’s hard! the story is carried more by the characters than by the plot, but it works well in this case since the characters are strong and each one has a presence.

5) Surviving Romance (currently 10 chapters)

this one is relatively new compared to my other recs but it’s by the author of the Makeup Remover so yaknow i had to hop on it. BUT IT IS VERY DIFFERENT! first off, it’s a horror, so keep that in mind. the best way i can describe it is a mixture of the standard “girl falls into a story” genre, Groundhog Day, and zombies. Yeah. Bascially, Chaerin is our main girl and she’s in a romance story that’s she’s read a bajillion times, so she knows the day has come for her male lead to confess his love! except he doesn’t! because he becomes a zombie instead! hahaha well that sucks! it’s only got 10 chapters but i am very into it, and it seems to be taking an emphasis on platonic relationships, so i am very closely watching 👁👁

6) The Witch and the Bull (currently 60 chapters)

another witch story! and the art is GORGEOUS. more witch + nonwitch conflict, too! our main dude, Tan, is the royal advisor and he’s hella bigoted against witches. our main girl, Aro, happens to be a witch. and Tan needs her help to make him into a human again (because he got turned into a bull. that is worth mentioning). this is a very barebones summary and there’s a lot more that goes on, but that’s the general gist of the beginning!

ANYWAYS. this got very long, predictably, and i rambled for each title, predictably. i’ve got more that i’m reading, but i really like these 9! i also made comments on the art for a lot of them, which might not matter to some people, but i feel like my art was very impacted by each webtoon i read. if you’re an artist i recommend finding a webtoon you like and studying the art; try implementing parts you like into your own style!

anyways, i am FINALLY done talking. bye yall

#webtoons #my recs

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Bullets and Bubble Baths | Tony Stark

Hey lovelies here's the first drabble for my Dinner at Dizzy's event!! Thank you all so much for your requests!! Enjoy!

Appetizers (Tags): Fluff / Angst

Entres (Pairing): Tony x F!Reader (Third Person)

Sides (Prompts): 11: “Oh my god, that was really violent.”, 23: “I have to protect the one thing that I can’t live without. That’s you.”

Notes: Y/n is Tony’s assistant, Tony's hella protective because she’s not an Avenger

Word Count: 1.4k

Dinner at Dizzy's Master List

She’s in the bathroom.

No, scratch that, she’s in the bathroom, vanilla bubbles up to her chest, soaking in the warmest, lavender scented water— with her boss. He’s not in the tub with her or anything, god forbid, but he’s there, yelling, and waving his arms around like a madman. Oh, and there’s gunshots— don’t forget about the gunshots that’s the most important part here. Why did she take his offer of moving into the Avenger’s Tower again?

Oh right— convenience.

“Tony what the fuck is going on?” She shrieks, trying to pull more bubbles over her chest but only ends up splashing water all over the floor.

He spins from the door which he has just locked, eyes blown wide, and she almost screams again. “Hydra— I think. Some big guys with guns. Steve’s down there now with Banner—”

A loud crash echoes from several floors below as if on cue, followed by another round of shots, and her heart skyrockets. She sits up, arms crossing over her chest frantically, listening for any noises that may be closer— like in her apartment closer. So far there are none but with her luck that’ll probably change. She turns back to the man in front of her, shivering from the cold air and the fear coursing through her veins.

She doesn’t want to scream again but she can feel it bubbling in her throat so she does the only thing she can think to do— she rambles. “How’d they get in? What do they want? Do you think Steve and Banner are okay? What are you doing in—”

She only stops when he drops in front of her, hands shooting out and wrapping around the back of her head, fingers twisting harshly in the wet strands of her hair as he yanks her mouth to his. It isn’t a heated kiss— more of a shut up or we’re going to die kiss— but for a moment it makes the world still, her heartbeat spiking for a whole different reason now. Maybe it wasn’t just convenience, maybe there was another reason she moved.

Before she can move her lips against his, he's pulling away from her, brown eyes searching over her face, probably making sure she’s not about to combust into words again. Don’t worry Tony, she’s too busy combusting into literal flames.

“I don’t know, okay? Not yet. Wasn’t exactly the right time to ask.”

“Tony—” he raises a brow and she shuts her mouth— right, they’re supposed to be laying low.

She lowers her voice a few octaves, whispering, all too aware of the fact that his lips are still only inches away from hers and that she still can hear bullets dinging off something metallic. Steve’s shield. Bucky’s arm. She swallows, fingers digging into her cold, wet flesh.

“Shouldn’t you be helping them?” Please don’t leave though, she adds in her head.

She has no idea why she asks. Courtesy maybe. Nerves or anxiety or the fact that she’s naked in a gunfight and he kissed her and she doesn’t know what else she can possibly say in this situation to make it okay. Nothing. She can say nothing. She regrets it immediately.

“I—” the door explodes, splintering into a hundred tiny pieces before he can finish— or even start, to be honest— his thought.

Before the scream can even rip up her throat he’s on his feet, gold and scarlet armour curling around his body. She must have missed him hitting the button on his watch thingy. Who can blame her, what with the large man that barrels into the bathroom, gun in hand. Gun pointed at her. So it’s just a party in the bathroom now, that’s cool. He scowls at her and she freezes, too numb to feel either cold or hot at this point. What the fuck did she do? She’s just trying to take a bath!

Cue the scream.

“Oh my god Tony look out!”

The man charges at him just as his helmet clamps shut, a sharp clang sounding through the bathroom, presumably a bullet bouncing off his armor, and he wastes no time holding an arm out and hitting the man square in the chest with a blast of god only knows what. She’s an assistant, she doesn’t get paid to know how his suits run. Then again she didn’t think she was getting paid to sit in luxurious bathtubs and get shot at either so maybe she just has no true grasp on her job and what it entails.

She watches, unable to look away, as he blasts him a few more times. She can’t see the man— the fire beam thing blasted him way out of the room the first time. She doesn’t even want to know what state he must be in right now. Rest in pieces, she supposes. She doesn’t have that much sympathy for the man who tried to put a bullet in her skull and made her waste her expensive bubble bath. Asshole. Still, after the fifth blast or so she decides that maybe it’s time to step in.

“Tony?” It’s almost silent, her voice shakier than she’s expecting after all the screaming.

From outside of the bathroom she hears the sound of metal clinking together, no doubt his armor retreating back into wherever it is that it goes when he isn’t using it. Seconds later the man— her boss— is running back into the room, chucks slipping against the tile as his eyes draw over her body frantically. It’s what makes her realize she isn’t numb anymore, the heat creeping up and over her chest. She lifts her arms higher, not looking down because she knows the bubbles are long gone.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Shit, what’s going on—”

He’s on his knees again, arms reaching out towards her, and she can’t think straight, she can only feel the hot tears beginning to drip down her face. “I— I think so? I don’t think I got hit. Are you okay? You got hit by a bullet! I just— I— Oh my god, that was really violent!”

She’s malfunctioning. Like on the fritz, fingers twitching, voice absolutely gone. Is this how Vision feels all the time? God, she hopes not. That would be awful. She feels Tony’s arms wrapping around her and her head flopping onto his shoulder but none of it really registers. She could have died. What the hell is her job?

“You’re okay. I got you.” He whispers.

“I’m an assistant.” She mumbles weakly against his shirt. “This was not part of the job description.”

He goes to pull away and she tenses, terror spiking through her veins. No, do not let go. She can’t handle it, not right now. She tightens her fists around his shirt, trying to keep him from shuffling too far away.

He doesn’t let go— not completely at least. He only backs up enough to look into her eyes, wincing slightly when he does, brown eyes filling with guilt. “I know, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t blame you if you left right now.”

She sighs, her shoulders sinking. Her face feels sticky, her chest cold, but no part of her feels like leaving. She’s terrified, yes, and pissed off that her bath got ruined. Her heart feels like it’s trying to escape her chest and she kind of wants to throw up. It’s awful and she hates feeling this way. But this is her home and him—

“Tony why did you come find me?” She whispers, the thought suddenly hitting her square in the chest, knocking the air from her lungs— he came for her instead of fighting with the rest of the team.

He doesn’t hesitate in pulling her closer to him again, this time his head sinking against her neck. “I have to protect the one thing that I can’t live without. That’s you. I had to make sure you were safe.”

Well, maybe he’s her home too.

She wraps her wet arms around him, soaking his shirt and simultaneously squeezing her to him as hard as she can. “Thank you.”

He nods against her shoulder, lips pressing into her skin. She smiles— they’re definitely going to need to talk about this tomorrow.

For now, though, she sinks deeper into him, letting her eyes flutter closed. “You owe me a new bubble bath, boss.”

#Tony Stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark fic #tony stark fluff #tony stark angst #tony stark imagine #iron man #iron man x reader #iron man x y/n #iron man fic #iron man imagine #mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #Dinner at Dizzy's

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shatteredatthealtarofwinchester · 3 years

Text

Castiel’s death S12 vs S15: An Analysis

I’m not a fan of being talked into something, that’s why I always analyze everything on my own. I want to be neutral while analyzing, I want to understand situations and emotions by myself, I want to see it with my own eyes and draw my own conclusions. Let’s go through some moments together, shall we? Got your tissues? All right.

We start in Season 12 at the moment Cas pushes Dean and Sam aside and walks towards Lucifer, ready to attack him. Dean is screaming for Cas several times and Sam has to pull Dean back while Dean wants to follow Cas. In my opinion this is a massive parallel to Season 1 when Dean pulled Sam out of the burning room while Sam was screaming for Jess the whole time.

Cas is stabbed in front of Deans eyes. Dean isn't realizing anything, he's numb, paralyzed. He just stares at Cas and sinks down on his knees next to Cas’ dead body.

A little later Sam and Dean are sitting in the Impala. Sam is saying: "Can we just talk about what happened back there?" and Dean answers stone-cold: "Sure. Which part? Let’s see. Crowley’s dead, Kelly’s dead, Cas is —." He can't even say it. He interrupts in the middle of the sentence; he can't even admit it, because the pain kicks in so hard.

Now it’s getting interesting:

Dean changes massively. He drinks, he is highly depressive, suicidal. He lost his will to believe in anything, he gave up on everyone. But even more: He gave up on himself. I have never seen Dean like that ever before.

You can say here: “But Dean lost his mother, too” Yes, that’s true. When I look at Marys and Deans arc together, it isn’t a profound one. It doesn’t contain healthy bonds or deep love, not even trust. Mary is a part of Deans abusive childhood. She made the deal with Azazel which spurred John into becoming a hunter to kill Azazel in revenge and raising their sons as hunters as well. Furthermore she makes it worse in the very short time she’s back in Deans life. She came back and left again. She lied, she ignored the boys, she didn’t care. She teamed up with the BMoL behind Deans and Sams back while knowing the BMoL tortured her sons excruciatingly. Deans and Marys bond was not deep or loving, trusting or healthy, it was just sorrowful. One Episode before Cas dies, Dean confronts Mary. You know the speech. It ends with “I hate you.” Yes, Dean lost his mother, too. But if you compare Marys relationship and Cas relationship with Dean, it’s like comparing the desert to the sea. I’ll come to that point later, again.

Dean prays to Chuck. Yes, Dean Winchester prays to God. "We've lost everything. And now you're gonna bring 'em back. You're gonna bring back Cas, you're gonna bring back Mom, you're gonna bring 'em all back. 'Cause after everything that you've done, you owe us, you son of a bitch! So you get your ass down here, and you make this right! Right here, right now!" With every word he presses through his lips, he gets more aggressive and desperate. He mentioned Cas before his mother, so Cas' name popped into his head first. When he opens his eyes, they are teary. He looks around and sees that nothing’s happened. His head sinks down on his chest, he's hopeless. The pain kicks in and he snaps, he can't bear it. He wrecks the door of the building until he’s bleeding and tears up even more. The next thing I saw I couldn't believe: He starts begging. He looks up, tears in his eyes, and Dean fucking Winchester starts begging to Chuck. "Please... Please... Help us..."

Later Dean actually kills himself. When he dies (temporary) he meets Death. It was not planned, but the moment Dean sees Billie, he's okay. He immediately accepts his fate, it's like a weight is lifted from his shoulders. Billie says something very important here: "Maybe you're not that guy anymore, the guy who saves the world, the guy who always thinks he'll win no matter what. You have changed. And you tell people it's not a big deal. You tell people you'll work through it, but you know you won't, you can't, and that scares the hell out of you." And Death adds surprised: "You wanna die."

So Billie points out Dean isn't able to fight on. He isn't able to work through it like he always did before. Something has changed, something so immense that he isn't able to live on. Billie continues:

"Dean, every notebook on this particular shelf tells a version of how you die. You specifically -- heart attack, burned by a red-haired witch, stabbed by a ghoul in a graveyard, and on and on. But which one's right? That depends on you, on the choices you make."

And Dean simply answeres: “Well, I guess I made my choice.” Dean is accepting his death here. For the first time in 13 years, he’s not just having suicidal thoughts, he wants to accomplish them. He wants it to end. Here and now.

Coming back to Mary. You know what makes me sure Deans total collapse was about Cas in the first place? Look what happened the moment Cas returned. You may skip to 4:45.

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So I am asking myself while looking ONLY at Castiels death in Season 12 and Deans reaction and nothing else: Is it love?

And my conclusion is: Yes, it is. Does Dean realize it yet? Probably not.

Why am I thinking this? Well… I was like Dean. Or Dean was like me.

When my husband died after 8 years of our relationship, I was exactly like Dean. I was numb, cold. I was depressive at first, later suicidal. I gave up on everything, everyone. I had no hope, didn’t believed in anything. I wanted my life to end. That’s why it was extremely painful to see Dean like that, this kind of pain rips your heart out of your chest every single moment of every single day in a way you could never imagine if you haven’t felt it yourself. It leaves you wrecking your whole life, crying, screaming in pain, begging for it to stop, begging for mercy, no matter in what way.

This is exactly why 15x20 was a… joke? A prank? I haven’t figured out what happened yet, but 15x20 is not real. Let’s take a look at Deans reaction to Cas’ last death. Knowing that their bond got massively stronger and their feelings got even more intense, Deans reaction was:

“Sam. Hey, umm. Cas is dead. Can we get pie?”

#Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Cas #Dean #Destiel #Casdean #Deancas #spn #spnfamily #spnfandom #Supernatural #spn meta #supernatural meta #cockles #jenmish

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

That’s Why I Love You

Pairing: Pothead!Fuckboy!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: It’s fuck love till you’re fucking and in love

Warnings: Angst with one line of hope, a dash of smut

A/N: Honestly this is what I thought of when I heard the song below. This song is so addicting in all the worst ways. Also ty lxngbottom for tempting me to write this -mwah-

He couldn't stop, he was addicted. Every square inch, every kiss, every single thrust had him wanting more and more. Neville didn't know it was possible to be addicted to one person so much. He knew what it was like to be driven by lust considering most his bedroom endevors were. Neville was no rookie when it came to fucking, in fact, other than his herbology skill (and his weed) it was the thing he was most commonly known for.

Hookups were his thing because hookups were simple. They don’t require any emotions. A simple in and out, fuck her and leave. It was something he did with almost no thought. Why would he? It wasn’t his responsibility for the feelings that could occur or form, the people he screwed around with weren’t stupid and if they were once again, that wasn’t his problem. He made it abundantly clear to every girl he slept with that he was not in the market for anything more than a casual fuck, maybe even a string of fucks. And even though he saw no problem with it, quite a few people did causing him to have a notorious reputation. No one would’ve ever saw it coming during 1st year but now, Neville was a fuckboy in his prime (and a damn good one too).

But sometimes he found himself thinking of how he could change, how he could put it out on the line for one girl, one really addicting girl. Her name coursed through his skin at the same rate his blood did and fuck was it scary. Neville couldn’t quite place it at first. He thought she just had fire pussy, which she did, but he was smart enough to know it was more than that. The first time he had tried to figure it out was when he was hotboxing his dorm with Seamus and Ron.

“What’s on your mind, man?” Seamus asked, coughing and spluttering a bit as he gave Neville the blunt. Neville took it, taking a perfect hit as he looked up at his friend confused. “You’re looking unusually tense for someone who smokes as much as we do.”

“Nah mate, I’m just thinking. Y’know that chick I’ve been fucking?” he asked, leaning back as he ran a hand through his wavy tresses.

“Which one? That’d be like asking ‘you see that star in the sky?’.” he rolled his eyes at the boy, handing him back the joint roughly.

“You know, (Y/n). The one with the thighs?” Seamus’s eyes lit up, making a growling noise at the mention of the girl. She was attractive, intensely so. However, she ignored the advances of just about every man that had approached her. Every man but Neville that is. “Well like she’s been making me feel things. Like weird things. I don’t know if she’s used a-”

“Easy man. You’re in love. Simple as that.”

When Seaus had proposed that idea, he thought it was absurd! He didn’t do love, love was stupid. It made you blind and clueness, an absolute fool. Love requires you to take each and every part of yourself and expose it to someone, a stranger, and hope, pray that the accept you for who you are. How could he do that, when he didn’t know who he was himself? But the more and more he mulled over Seamus’s words, the more the idea creeped up to him. He tried to ignore it, running and running from it, but it was at every corner, down every corridor, and in every orgasm. He grew suspicious of him ownself when he started canceling his other shags, making excuses of why he couldn’t see them in order to fit her into his schedule. When he was fucking her, screwing her brains out, he didn’t have to acknowledge his feelings.

He knew it wasn’t fair to her but to hell with it. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her cause afterall they both wanted the same thing, to feel something other than love, something other than the pain that came with feelings.

Unbeknownst to him, she was in the same boat. She knew as soon as the feeling first came to be in her. It was crazy really, love really was the way they described it in books. One minute, you’re ignoring every man to ever approach you, then suddenly you’re banging your plug day in and day out. (Y/n) blamed the smoke sessions because that’s what it started out as. They were small, intimate, and cozy. Neville always had the best jams to smoke to but they were so sensual...so overwhelming. It seemed like she could feel his words embedding into her skin.

She had never wondered about what they were. They were aquaintances who smoked a bowl together from time to time. But something in her that night, whether it be the bud or her subconscious mind made her take that leap. (Y/n) knew she was responsible for it all in the first place. Neville had been nothing but kind, never touching her, never trying to make an advance on her- but maybe that was the problem. Maybe she was frustrated that the guy that got around most at Hogwarts had never made an advance on her. Maybe she was in love with the idea of the chase and not the idea of him.

Is what she’d say if she was truly in denial. She knew what she was feeling. She had been in love once before which is exactly why she didn’t want to fall in love again. Draco had left her a cold, empty, emotionless shell of what she once was. It took her ages to build back that confidence and she wasn’t in the market to lose it again.

But when he looked down at her, with those pretty hazel eyes, sometimes she couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like to fall in love with him. What it’d be like to stay in his bed after they were done, smoking a blunt together through a drowsy exchange of words. For him to look at her with love instead of lust, to make love together instead of the harsh fucking they’d usually do. Even though she had came to terms with it herself, it didn’t matter. She knew Neville and Neville knew her (or at least who she used to be).

“F-fuck! Oh my god, right there Nev! Y-ye-es!” she moaned out, arching her back into his grasp. He tightened his grip, adding a force he didn’t know he had into the already strenuous rhythm that he had been going. They had been going at it for hours, (Y/n) on her 5th orgasm and Neville barely just beginning to reach his first. Other than the sheer size of his dick, Neville’s stamina made him a serious threat.

“Y-yeah? Right here, baby?” he asked through staggered breaths, hitting her spot repeatedly for emphasis. He ripped his eyes from the ceiling, looking into hers. Her fucked out expression combined with the way she was clenching around him was enough to make him lose it. With his orgasm drawing near, he became feral, balls slapping against her with each harsh thrust as he choked her. He pressed her deeper into the bed, resting his forehead against hers as he felt himself about to release and with the way she was thrashing about and whimpering, he could tell she was close too. “Oh fuck, angel!”

“I love you!” they both screamed, eyes widening as they came down from their high, the weight of their words crashing down on them. He pulled out of her quickly, staring at her as she stared back.

“You...I...what?” he whispered. However, she didn’t respond, quickly putting her panties back on as she slid her dress over her head. Was she really leaving? After they had both confessed so feverishly? “You’re not actually about to leave are you? Really?! (Y/n) I heard you say it, I heard you say it loud and clear!” however the girl still wouldn’t look at him.

“Listen, Neville. We already have something good and I…” she trailed off as she opened the door. He gasped as she turned around, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t wanna mess it up.”

“You’re wrong, you’re wrong and you know it!” he seethed, watching as she froze, turning around the other way once again. “You can run away all you want, but I’m not giving up on you.” he said, sincerity laced through his words. Even though she didn’t respond, she had heard his words. Closing the door, she left without another sound.

‘That’s why I love you.’

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#neville longbottom x reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom x you #Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #Spotify

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damn-stark · 3 years

Text

A little surprise

Connie Springer x reader

(SPOILERS) Requested by anon “heyy!! can i request an imagine with connie springer where the reader tells him she’s pregnant? maybe after sasha’s death or you can decide when, thank youu 💞😌”

Warning- Fluff, some angst, talks of pregnancy

———-

It was an easy plan, just sneak downstairs, walk into the kitchen and get what you suddenly badly craved without getting caught. It shouldn’t be hard. Everyone was sleeping.

You’d just slip in and out….

“Connie?”

You stop and lower your candle as you catch him walking out of the kitchen with a bowl of pudding in his hand.

He lowers his own candle and spreads his lips into an innocent and sweet smile. “Hi, babe.”

You blink and slightly tilt your head to the side. “What are you doing up?”

Connies eyes drift to the bowl and then up to you. “I got this sudden craving for pudding and I couldn’t ignore it. I had to come down and get it. What are you doing up?”

You straighten your posture and nervously scratch the back of your head and shrug. “I…” you pause for a second before you finish your sentence in a soft voice. “I had the same craving.”

“Huh?”

“I had the same craving.” You repeat in a louder voice.

“Oh,” Connie looks down at his bowl and offers it to you. “Wanna share then?”

“Sure,” you nod.

Connie grins and walks back to the kitchen to get another spoon, returning and walking you to one of the tables and setting down your midnight snack there, basking in each other’s company as neither of you talked and just heard the scraping of spoons on the bowl.

“So we’re both here at the same time,” Connie jokes with a goofy smile. “What a coincidence.”

You scoff in a lighthearted manner and feel a smile of your own grow on your features, but once you remember what was the reason behind your midnight craving your smile slowly falls and you begin to feel nervous. It was a good thing the candlelight wasn’t that bright so Connie wouldn’t spot the sudden drop in your mood. You weren’t ready to tell him that you were expecting his baby. You’ve had a month to tell him since you found out, but you haven’t worked up the nerve to reveal such important news; there was just so much going on, with the new train, new people to meet, watching over Eren. There was just a lot going on, you haven’t found the right opportunity.

Plus you didn’t want to feel like a burden….

But he also had a right to know, you couldn’t keep it from him for too long and you didn’t want him to find out from someone else that wasn’t you.

“I’m surprised you’re up,” Connie comments with his mouth full, “you like to value your sleep.”

You take a spoonful of your own but swallow before speaking. “Couldn’t sleep and well I had this craving so I thought I’d fulfill it.”

Connie scoffs and sets his spoon down, “it’s weird, lately I’ve been feeling very nauseous and uh, at the middle of the night I get these intense cravings.” Connie slouch’s and scratches the back of his neck as he continues to explain his recent experience. “Like yesterday, I had this weird craving to eat a egg mashed potato sandwich. It was weird.”

You raise your eyebrows and laugh nervously, playing along with him instead of saying anything. “Very weird.”

“Right,” Connie exclaims in a loud whisper, “I of course didn’t have it but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“You’re not pregnant right Connie?” Sasha says from the depths of the shadows of the dining hall, causing you to jump and grab onto Connie as he let out a scared yelp.

“What the hell Sasha?” He hisses while he grips onto your arms wrapped around him.

“Yeah,” you gasp, “what the hell?”

Said girl walks up with snacks in hand and grins smugly. “Just came for snacks.”

“How come we didn’t hear you?”

Sasha scoffs, “that’s the point of sneaking around Connie, so you don’t hear me.”

You glare at her and point your finger at her. “Well don’t do that shit again, I almost had a heart attack.”

Sasha snickers and sits across from the both of you, narrowing her gaze and looking from Connie and you. “So what are you two doing down here so late, aye? A little after sex snack?” She smirks and grabs your spoon to eat the last spoonful of the pudding.

Connie snorts and even if a smug expression was painted on his face he told the truth and denied her comment. “No, just midnight cravings.”

Sasha swallows the food and glances between Connie and you, focusing on you for a longer and more lingering moment. She narrows her gaze and you look away because of the tension you suddenly felt under her gaze. Connie remains clueless and before Sasha could figure out your secret you stand up abruptly with the intention to leave.

“Okay, goodnight guys, it’s time I try to sleep.” You take your candle and offer them both a smile, avoiding looking at Sasha and not expecting Connie to follow suit.

“Need me to walk you?”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes and nod your head. “I'd love it if you walked me.”

Once you reach your room, you open the door and stand by the doorway to let him give you a couple of goodnight kisses on your face. “Goodnight.”

You smile sweetly and cup his cheeks to press a lingering kiss on his lips, parting away from him a couple minutes later to whisper the same thing. “Goodnight, my love.”

A goofy smile spreads on his lips and through his candlelight you see him blush. He lingers for a moment before stepping away and adding one last causal comment. “I love you.”

You grin softly and walk back into your room to close your door in front of you, wanting to be satisfied with the night and okay with him leaving once again without knowing the truth. But you aren’t. You needed to tell him already, before someone told him. You knew Sasha was beginning to suspect something, it won’t be long until she figures it out.

Hmph…

You bang your head on the wooden door and hesitate for a few seconds before you just rip the door open and peak your head out to see Connie reaching the end of the hall. “Connie. Connie.”

Said boy stops and spins around, raising his eyebrows and putting his hand behind his ear to wait for what you had to say. “What?”

You wave him over and he doesn’t question doing as you asked, stopping before you and keeping his eyebrows raised curiously. Meanwhile you proceed to walk back into your room to give space for him to walk in; which he does and snickers thinking that this was going somewhere else.

“Baby, you—”

“We have to talk.” You cut him off as you close the door, seeing him turn around to look at you with a serious expression this time. You sit down and he follows you without question. However you can’t find how to announce it to him, you stay silent and hear the silence of the night, you avert his gaze and focus on your fingers on the bed, making Connie speak up and break the silence.

“Spill it already, you’re making me anxious.”

You sigh and blink to look up at him, drawing in a deep shaky breath and slowly exhaling it to announce your news. “I’m pregnant.”

Connie leans his head forward and tilts it slightly to let out a serious, “huh?”

You swallow thickly and repeat it louder, “I’m pregnant.”

Connie parts his lip to retort with some joke, but once he notices that you’re serious he closes his mouth while his eyes widen and he freezes in place, out of disbelief.

It seemed like only his body was here and his mind was somewhere else, his eyes just stared at you blankly and made you feel nervous under his stare. “Connie?”

“A...baby?” He muttered out while his hand went up to grab the side of his head and he looked somewhere else. “Like a…real baby? Uh,” Connie suddenly stands up and begins to pace the room as he keeps his hand on his head. “You have a baby….I’m going to be...are you sure?” He asks while he skids to a stop and turns to look at you with a lost expression.

You begin to gnaw on your bottom lip and nod, “Yes, it’s been two been months since I’ve had my period and I’ve been having symptoms and I well I made sure already so,” you shrug, “yeah.”

“Okay,” Connie nods, finally blinking and looking at you with a more soft, yet surprised look. “Wow. I mean how are you feeling?”

“Scared,” you admit, “I mean all this is scary because of what we do and I don’t want to be a burden. And I don’t want you to feel forced to stay with me because of the baby.” You look away from him and just hear him sit on his previous spot.

Connie tilts his head to meet your gaze and assure you with his words. “What, no I’m not going to leave you. I mean it’s scary knowing that I’m going to be a dad now, but you’re not a burden.”

You look up and he follows your gaze. “You can be mad you know. It’s not that like you, but you can be angry.”

Connie reaches for your hand and gives it an assuring squeeze. “Angry at myself for not being more careful?”

“We both weren’t.”

“It doesn’t matter because I’m not mad,” he assures you. “I’m confused though, because I don’t know exactly what we’re going to do, but,”

“We’re going to figure it out,” you finish for him. “Together.”

“Exactly,” he smiles before leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You cup his cheek and rest your forehead on his to murmur the same words. “I love you too.”

Connie grins and squeezes your hand tighter to add another comment in a quiet and in disbelief whisper. “I’m going to be a dad.”

#attack on titan #connie springer #aot #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan imagines #connie springer x reader #connie aot #connie springer imagine #Connie springer imagines #Connie springer fanfiction #conny springer requests #conny springer imagine #conny springer imagines #conny springer #Sasha braus

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maxdark158 · 3 years

Text

Wooo! Writing shoes are back on and i’m actually really happy that i’m finally able to write again. This chapter is a bit shorter than normal but the next two are heavy hitters so it’s alright

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

Damian typically liked patrol.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop under the cover of the night was always exhilarating. Parkour just wasn’t the same without a belt of weapons and a costume, it was always a good way to burn of excess energy and get his mind focused.

Sure, it was his job to protect Gotham so he couldn’t be joking around, but he had to admit he liked the physical activity. He took his job seriously but taking it seriously didn’t mean it had to be unenjoyable.

Patrols were a time when he didn’t feel constrained, didn’t have to play a part or meet expectations. Nothing could ruin the cool gotham city nights on the rooftops.

Well, almost nothing.

After all, Damian’s father had the insane habit of adopting shitty ass kids for his crime fighting ring. Which meant Damian had this awful sickness called siblings. And the only thing that could ruin his nice patrols were the chortling of the other costumed idiots.

The worst nights were when all his brothers went.

Every. Single. Brother.

And what made it worse on top of that?

When they had something they felt they could tease him about. And when they were all teasing him about the same thing at the same time.

He was going to snap and stab one of them. His father might be anti murder but he didn’t have to know…

Damian shook his head. Bad thoughts.

“Thinking of your Angel?” Drake seemed to have a death wish and Damian was all about granting fucking wishes right now.

“Why do you all insist on being here?” he grumbled to himself. Because really they didn’t have to be. No bat signal, probably a few minor purse snatching crimes that one or two could handle easily. Why were they all in costume? Take the night off, stop fucking bothering him.

Annoying Fuck #1 snorted next to him when he said that, clearly not planning to be reasonable. “What, don’t like us teasing you about your Angel, demon spawn?” Todd snorted.

Damian ignored him. “Batman, shouldn’t he not be allowed to patrol with us?” His father could at least tell Todd to go home. Then when his back was turned he wouldn’t witness what happened to Dra-

“C’mon, I haven’t killed anyone and I want to hang out with my little bro! It’s not every day that Robin gets his first crush!”

Annoying Fuck #2, Drake, nearly slipped and fell from laughter.

Damian’s face warmed under his mask. “I do not have a crush you-“

“Focus on the job,” As always, father was on his side. “You can make fun of Robin later when we aren’t patrolling,” the traitorous bastard added.

Damian didn’t want to be the fucking blood son anymore.

He glared at Batman, scoffing to himself. “Then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my own route.”

“I’ll go with you little bird!”

Fucking fuck fuck.

Because of fucking course Grayson suggested that. And of fucking course Damian momentarily forgot that Grayson was back and patrolling too, leaving him unprepared for the suggestion. Grayson’s uncharacteristic quietness was the worst thing at times.

Fucking hell why’d they all have to be here tonight?

Proving himself to truly be a traitor, his father nodded to Grayson’s suggestion. So Damian, previously wanting to get away with his brothers and dream of murdering them alone, now had a tagalong stopping such a fun activity.

At this rate he’d have frown lines at 23.

Damian went off, not waiting for Grayson. He knew he’d easily keep pace though, so the halfhearted dream of being fully alone wouldn’t happen.

“Robin, wait here a second.” Oh fuck no. That’s Grayson’s I want to talk voice. Too bad for him because Damian did not want to talk. At all. Especially about anything Grayson might want to talk about. Because Grayson wanted to talk about French Angels and Riddlers and Spars and-

“Robin, are you listening?”

“No, Nightwing, I’m not.” Damian stared at him and raised a brow. “What is there to talk about?”

Grayson huffed, annoyed. Good. Fucker deserves it after what he and the others put him through these last few days. “I was asking if you actually had a crush or not. They’re teasing you but I’ve been,” at WE all day, Damian knew, “busy all day. I can’t tell if they’re making something out of nothing and I’d rather hear it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

There was a time when Damian would have said he wasn’t a horse. When he was younger, he didn’t know idioms and expressions that well. He considered saying it now, to try and change the subject, but he also knew Grayson didn’t let things go easily. Which wasn’t very good.

Because Damian wasn’t sure how to answer.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to answer it, even to himself. His weedkiller wouldn’t arrive for a few more fucking days, he wasn’t prepared for this.

Though maybe that in of itself showed the answer to Grayson’s question…

Fucking fuck fuck.

He shook himself from those thoughts. Grayson was waiting on an answer and he didn’t have time to get lost in thought about his Ang- Marinette. Marinette.

Damian settled for glaring at Grayson. “My private life is not any business of yours.”

Grayson snorted. “Suure little bird. She’s one of the French students, right?”

“Don’t say that right now,” he snapped. Not while they were in costume, not while they could be listened to. “Focus on the job, Nightwing.”

Grayson put his hands up in surrender. “Race you to Wayne Enterprises?”

Damian didn’t wait for an answer, jumping to the next roof and making his way as fast as he could. He was determined to beat his adopted brother’s sorry ass, not that he cared about winning. It wasn’t that he was competitive, he simply didn’t want to continue this discussion. That was all. That’s fucking it.

Grayson laughed behind him, and the race began.

-----

They were taking a break near the Batcave. No activity yet, but they stayed suited up incase that changed. The night was still young, after all.

Batman instructed them to meet there through the comms. Damian and Grayson, further from the cave, made it there last. Grayson luckily hadn’t brought up and other conversation during patrol, and Damian hoped that would hold ou-

The other two idiots were waiting like the fucking lunatics they are.

Fucking fuck fuck.

“Did the demon spawn tell you about his precious Angel?” Todd clearly decided that he would die in seven days by saying that, big dumb fucking grin on his face and hair messy from removing his dumbass helmet.

“What was her name again? Mary?” Drake knew her name and was just being a little bitch. Damian decided not to give him the fucking bait, going over to a place to sit-

“Marie something, French and I think with brown eyes?”

“They’re blue,” Damian bit out. Fuck, their stupidity had infected him, he spoke before thinking. Was there a cure? He doubted it as they were all still stupid and have been for years. Fucking fuck the last thing he needs is to be on their level of idiocy.

“Right, right,” Jason’s wolfish smug grin was showing exactly how much of a fucking bitch he planned to be. Damian wanted to kick his face in.

“Little bird was pretty tight lipped on patrol,” Grayson said lightly as if he didn’t just stab him in the back.

“It’d be rude to kiss and tell,” Damian was going to strangle Drake with his own two hands.

“I haven’t kissed her!” He snapped again. His face was very warm, did he get sunburned somehow?? “We’re friends you imbeciles!”

“Friends that hold hands,” Drake pointed out.

“And tour Gotham together, alone.” Todd shortened his life span even more.

“And invite each other over to their house, where they never invited anyone before, to eat lunch.”

“Look how red his face is!”

“Little bird probably even planned to buy her ice cream! That’s why they were there when the Riddler showed up!”

“I’ll bed demon spawn-“

Damian stormed out of the room. Blood was roaring in his ears and he needed to- he just. He fucking needed fucking out of here. Away from those fuckers. Or he’d actually follow through with his thinly veiled threats and he’d rather not get blood on his costume.

He hated siblings with a passion. If his father ever considered adopting again Damian would fill all of his shoes with centipedes and rip the third seam out of every pair of pants he owned.

I don’t have a crush on her. I don’t. She’s wonderful and amazing, an angel, but I don’t like Ang- Marinette like that. She’s a friend I made and that is all.

Damian grabbed some throwing knives for target practice. Not on his brothers this time. He wanted to clear his head without those fucks nearby.

He threw one. The aim was a bit off, and he frowned. His aim was impeccable, why was he off right now? Why is having a crush on Marinette a bad thing?

No. He shook his head. He didn’t want to think those fucking thoughts right now. He threw another, harder. It went deep into the target, still off by more than he was happy with. He growled lowly.

Ange- Marinette is pure and good and wonderful. I was raised by assassins and I can’t completely shake their ideals.

Another knife. Damian’s grip on them tightened. Why was he missing?

I’m a vigilante and Damian Wayne. I have blood on my hands and money to my name and she wants to make her fashion empire herself.

Damian got more knives. His frustration was growing with each thought. They kept coming back as he tried to dismiss them, kept distracting him from the target.

She’s a talented designer. She’s incredibly smart, knows how to fight. Beautiful, dark hair and freckles and blue eyes.

Another knife sailed through the air.

I’m not anything of note without my last name or costume. She’s amazing without needing either.

Damian walked over and began taking the knives off the targets. Maybe they were fucking with his aim. He should get rid of them. Focus on removing them. Stop thinking about her.

But no matter how many fucking times he tried to redirect his thoughts, they came back.

She doesn’t have to tolerate me.

She’s wonderful and innocent.

She doesn’t deserve to be dragged down.

I don’t want to hurt her.

Damian’s hands were on his face, pushing at his eyes and trying to stop the thoughts. His Ange- Marinette was wonderful he knew that, but he didn’t think the other things. Not constantly anyway, he helped people as Robin. He was his father’s blood son. He wasn’t unhappy with himself.

But that doesn’t mean I’m good enough for Marinette.

He grabbed a knife from the table he set them on and threw it blindly, as if throwing the thought itself out and away.

It hit the center perfectly.

Damian took a deep breath. Everything was fucking overwhelming right now, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

But it seemed he’d have to.

Fucking fuck fuck.

Okay, okay. He… He might have a crush on Marinette.

Admitting it, oddly, seemed to lift a weight off his shoulders. Damian took another deep breath.

He has a crush on Marinette. But he values her a friend very much. He isn’t going to do anything about his crush, because she deserves someone as amazing and angelic as her, and Damian isn’t that.

But that’s okay. Because he already loves being her friend. And his weedkiller isn’t too far away.

Damian calmed down. He threw some more knives. They were all on target.

She’ll always be my friend and Angel, if I have any say in it. I’ll make sure whoever she choses is worthy of her.

Damian had just thrown his third when his father spoke through their comms. “Poison Ivy sighting at Gotham Hotel.”

The six words turned Damian’s recently found peaceful mood onto its head. Ice water poured into his and filled his limbs with dread. His chest was tight, as if someone was grabbing at his lungs and they were closing. The weeds of worry were strangling him.

That’s my Angel’s hotel.

He had dropped her off there with Alfred just earlier that day. She was staying there with her class. They were supposed to be safe and protected, she was supposed to be safe and protected.

Damian’s knives hit the ground but his feet hit it faster as he ran through the cave to the exit. Ivy best not lay a finger on her or she would lose her entire arm.

His Angel wouldn’t get hurt, not if he could help it.

#daminette #maribat #Marinette #Damian Wayne #maridami #damimari #marinettexdamian #damian x marinette #miraculous ladybug #batman #batboys #batbrothers

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kuromantic · 4 years

Text

Tales of Zombish: Haikyuu Light Novel Translation

*This is my translation of the Zombie Knight Zombish snippets from the light novel. It’s split into 5 parts, and inserted between each chapter of the light novel. Don’t copy this to another site. The translation is under the cut!

Zombie Knight Zombish

1: Zombish is Born!!

Nightfall. A lone swordsman wakes up. A swordsman that does not know of true death, because of experiencing a false death.

“...Wait, it’s still evening, you stupid crow!”

The man yells at the small crow beside him, having just woken up by a thin bush. The man’s body was wrapped up in an old, tattered cloth—which must have been a cloak some time ago—which covered his entire body.

“I could have gotten burned by the setting sun…” The man blocks out the sunlight with the tattered cloth, and the crow caws apologetically.

“Well, it’s okay. I don’t even have a body that can be burned.”

The man laughs, and the crow flaps its black wings, flying ahead up into the sky. The man follows it with his gaze, squinting at the brightness. He stands up.

“Oh, well. Guess I’ll go.”

The man starts to walk. His frame was thin and delicate, which could be seen even when it was covered with the tattered cloth. And on his back, was a sword.

The sword, which is large enough to not be recognized as one at first glance, does not suit the lean man.

“Man, I wonder if a car will pass by… Eh, I guess no sane person would have gasoline now.”

There’s no road where the man looks ahead.

In the dead world where smokey, dried up wastelands stretch out for seemingly forever, the man continues to walk alone today.

“Yeah, isn’t this good? Isn’t this good? It sounds like the story’s just begun, right?”

The rookie mangaka, Udai Tenma, stands up with an excited face and gets another drink from the self-service fountains. He returns to his table with a glass of cola in his hand. He continues working on his storyboard.

The only equipment on the table is a notebook, a pencil and an eraser. On the open page, there are scribbles that nobody else could decipher. It’s the storyboard Udai made with all his effort.

I wanna try and make a manga. I like it. With that, Udai had drawn a manga during his college years. And it had won an honourable mention in the rookie awards. He had gotten an editor and debuted as a mangaka. But the reality was, he wasn’t quite reaching serialization.

But now, “Zombie Knight Zombish”, is being created in the restaurant. And there’s a confidence that hasn’t been there before.

“‘Everything but death is nothing but a scratch’? He needs to get over himself… No, maybe ‘Mortal bodies, they make me jealous.’...”

Udai mumbles dialogues to himself, changing his expressions to suit the main character’s. The other customers at the restaurant glance at him.

But he can’t afford to care about those gazes.

Zombish needs to help the heroine attacked by the enemy, in an extremely cool and overdramatic manner.

And the enemy has to be a fated opponent that Zombish has known before turning into a zombie. The heroine needs to be a key person, for Zombish to return from zombie to human. And of course, she needs to be cute, a little strong-willed, who tries to join in on the fighting sometimes. But also a girl who you just want to protect…

A flash.

The girl’s eyes can only capture the white hand, emerging from the tattered cloth and gripping the sword on his back.

She feels wind brush past her cheeks, and closes her eyes. She opens them again, and the bandits have already collapsed onto the dry ground.

“Huh? What…?”

As the girl struggles to comprehend what had happened, Zombish is already starting to walk away.

“Hey, don’t leave me behind!”

She grabs the knight. At that moment, the tattered cloth on him rips and falls to the ground.

What appears is not the handsome knight she expected. Nor a fighter that’s big and well-muscled. It’s a skeleton.

“...Wait, bone?! Why bone! Bone? Wait, do bones even talk?!”

“Yeah, I’m bone! So sorry I’m bone, sue me!”

The knight picks up the truly tattered piece of rag, and hides his body. It truly looks like a skeletal model. He turns his back to the girl.

“Anyway, I’m bone. So I can’t go with you. Protect yourself, you’re on your own.”

The “bone”, that had slain a crowd of bandits instantly, tries to walk away from one single girl, as if to escape from her.

Staring at Zombish’s lanky, weak-looking back and the huge sword on it, the girl shouts over at him.

“Hey, bone! Can you eat?”

Zombish turns around, lifts the tattered cloth, and points around his stomach with a laugh.

“You wanna see me eat? It’s hilarious.”

“If you don’t eat… That means I don’t have to share my food or water with you, right?”

“Huh?”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re bone or not, if you can defeat these guys. You’re pretty strong.” The girl points to the iron-clad, muscular bandit with a mohawk. “And I should sew that cloth I ripped back together…”

Zombish laughs, his hard skull distorting a little. “I’m not strong. Those guys are just small fries. But I guess I’ll have you fix this cloth for me.”

At those words, the girl runs up to him.

In the dried-up world of death, two footsteps mark their paths. Up above in the sky, a crow flies around in circles. As if to watch over them.

Zombish’s journey has just started!!

“I wonder what my editor will say…”

The man, once the “Little Giant”, leaves the restaurant and returns home. And without changing his clothes, collapses into his futon for the first time in a while.

2. VS Editor A!!

“Zombies aren’t usually skeletons, right?” Akaashi Keiji opens his heavy mouth, holding his coffee in one hand. It makes Akaashi heavy-hearted to meddle with a work an author brought to him.

Kanda, Chiyoda City, Tokyo.

In the editorial department of Weekly Shonen Vie, there’s an extreme lack of people in the afternoon.

The rookie mangaka, Udai Tenma, freezes momentarily in the meeting space. And he attempts to brush it off with a laugh.

“Yeah, I thought, ‘Is a skeleton okay?’ for a bit. But maybe a Japanese-style zombie would be new, and I thought I could pull it off. We all get cremated in Japan, too. Hahaha.”

“I see.”

Akaashi looks at the copy of “Zombie Knight Zombish” on the table, and Udai laughing in front of him. And he says one more time, with force behind his words. That this is the last time he’ll say this, and he won’t say the same thing again.

“Zombies aren’t usually skeletons, right.”

The question mark had disappeared.

It’s not a question, but a confirmation of fact.

“...Yeah.” Udai replies weakly. He drops his shoulders, and bites the straw of his cola.

It’s tough.

It had been his best work. He had a confidence in it, that he hadn’t before with his other works. But his concept had been fundamentally criticized.

The editor continues talking to the crestfallen Udai.

“And one more thing.”

“...What is it?”

Udai hunches his shoulders, looking up at Akaashi like a scolded child. Akaashi sips his coffee, adjusts his glasses and lets out a breath. He opens his mouth slowly.

“We’ve established that a skeleton is not a zombie. But I think this skeleton’s design is a little lacking, in the first place. It’s no different to any old skeleton. For the main character, I want a quirk that will tell you it’s Zombish with just one look.”

“Any old skeleton?” Udai says, and draws a normal-looking skeleton into his notebook.

“Yes. For example, he could be wearing glasses, or he could have a large scar. I want a unique design. Even if you draw him simply, you would know it’s him. If I were to ask for more, I’d even say make his silhouette recognizable. That’s how strong his design should be.”

Udai adds a scar to his skeleton, and mumbles, “I guess it can’t be a scar, if his silhouette has to be recognizable.”

“The scar is just one example.”

“I’m sorry…”

Udai slurps the cola at the bottom of the glass, which is pretty much melted ice. He laughs disappointedly.

“I thought the skeleton was fine, since he was cremated. Like a Japanese-style zombie. Well, there’s no zombie-ness, I guess…”

At those words, Akaashi’s glasses shine.

“Then… How about you make Zombish look more Japanese? It could link with his sword, too.”

“What?”

“Well, this is just one what-if scenario.”

“...No, I think it could work. I’ll think about it! Then maybe he can look different from any old zombie!” Udai grabs his pen, and draws a Japanese-style zombie in his notebook. “If it’s Japanese clothes and a sword, he’d just be a samurai… How do I give him the zombie knight feeling…”

Watching the pen move busily and create many versions of Zombish, Akaashi feels a weight lift from his heart.

It makes him heavy-hearted to meddle with other people’s works. But sometimes, his words make the author take a step in a good direction. That must be why he can continue with this job.

“So now, please brush up on the work. And, depending on the edited manuscript, I may bring it up during the serialization meeting.”

Udai’s pen stops moving. “Wait, why?! You’ve been talking about my work so harshly and tearing into it this whole time!”

“...I haven’t been tearing into it. It’s entertaining, so I just want to make the story even more entertaining.”

Udai’s face crumples, as he looks up at Akaashi. “Akaashi-san, you weren’t just an unpleasant person, after all!”

“I’m an unpleasant person…?”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean it that way! I meant it in an um, good way!”

Akaashi doesn’t ask what exactly he means by that, and organizes the manuscript. “Zombish is very entertaining, compared to the works you have brought me so far. I think you have a chance.”

“Thank you!”

“Oh, and lastly…”

“There’s… still more?” Udai tenses.

Akaashi chuckles, before talking. “I’ve been thinking for a while, but this bit on the edge of the page, saying ‘Zombish’s journey has only just begun!’. You don’t need to write that. It’s the editor’s job.”

“...!!”

4. Get Serialized!!

It’s just past noon. Noticing that the phone is ringing, Udai reaches out from under the futon. He checks, and realizes it’s Akaashi. He gets out of the futon in a hurry, and answers.

“You were asleep.” Akaashi says, in the same straightforward tone.

“...I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry too. I’m going to get into it. Your one-shot is well-received.”

At those words, Udai’s hand begins to sweat. He had been told to make a one-shot for the extra issue, and had made “Zombie Knight Zombish” with everything he’d got.

He had changed Zombish’s design into a young man with patchwork skin, after Akaashi’s critique. He likes the way the bandages show around his collar. It can’t have been a skeleton, he thinks. It’s hard to relate to a skeleton.

The “recognizable by silhouette” task had been cleared with the axe on his head. The zombie knight element was incorporated, by making him detach his left arm to wield his sword. Maybe they’ll make a movable figure out of the character.

Above all, it was a work he’d been confident in. If it had still been absolutely hopeless, Udai wouldn’t have been able to recover from it.

“Thank god…” Udai feels the tension drain out of him, and Akaashi continues.

“And now, I would like to brush up Zombish to prepare for serialization.”

“Of course! With pleasure!” Udai answers with gusto, almost like an izakaya employee.

“Firstly, your heroine.”

“Yes!”

I should probably fix up the heroine a bit more, Udai thinks. Make her cuter, better… But Akaashi doesn’t steer the conversation in that direction.

“In the one-shot, Zombish saves her, and they decide to go on a journey together, and it ends there.”

“Huh? Oh, yes.”

“If the one-shot will be chapter one, are they going to be travelling together in chapter two and beyond?”

It’s not anything fun, like about making the heroine have a good figure or about how revealing her clothes should be.

And really, Udai hadn’t been thinking what would happen once it got serialized. Well, he supposes it would be like what Akaashi just said.

“Wouldn’t the readers grow bored of that?” As if to read Udai’s mind, Akaashi says.

“What?”

“The main character and the heroine go on a journey together the whole time, an enemy appears, he saves her, he defeats the enemy, and then moves on. And they continue like that until the final boss.”

“Yeah…”

“Wouldn’t that bore people?”

Wait, am I getting given out to?

No, he’d only been thinking of the one-shot as a base, so he hadn’t set anything beyond that in stone. He had only thought that leaving the readers hoping for more would be enough.

“...Um, if it’s possible, I’d like to talk about this in person.” Udai says, wiping the sweat off his palms with his t-shirt.

“All right. When are you free?”

And so, in the editorial department the day after, the brainstorming session in the meeting space had continued for more than two hours.

“So then, instead of a heroine that just keeps getting saved…”

“She’d be like a buddy that also gives witty comebacks.”

Udai draws a bunch of expressions for the female character. Flustered, angry, glaring… He stops his pen, and looks at Akaashi.

“Then maybe Zombish will have a goofy side, instead of just being cool?”

“But please don’t make it into a gag manga. Looking at the survey results, there are a lot of people saying that the manga is interesting because Zombish is cool.” Akaashi answers, looking at the survey chart.

“I see… Balancing it out is hard.” Udai draws out a bunch of Zombish’s expressions in his notebook, and laughs. “But it’s fun. It feels like I’m making a manga.”

“It’s good to hear that.” Akaashi smiles for a moment, and continues. “And also, about the enemy. Instead of them being a group of bandits in the harsh world, making them an organization would add depth to the story.”

“Oh, maybe they’re the reason Zombish turned into a zombie?”

“Sounds good.”

Udai’s mood lifts from Akaashi’s acknowledgement, and opens up a page earlier on in his notebook.

“Look here! The final boss is a fated opponent from before Zombish turned into a zombie. And the heroine is a key person for Zombish to turn back into a human. So I thought right now, maybe the heroine is the daughter of the final boss.”

In contrast to the excited Udai, Akaashi lets out a low groan of uncertainty.

“...So what, exactly, is Zombish fighting for?”

“You always ask questions that can make the whole thing fall apart, Akaashi-san.”

“Well, isn’t that the most important part?”

Expanding ideas simple-mindedly is fun. The more he expands, picking up the pieces and making the story coherent will be hell, though. But knowing that, talking about final bosses and rivals is genuinely fun.

“Secret hideouts are great, aren’t they?”

“If they’ve taken over this world, isn’t there no need to keep it a secret? Something that would display their power…”

“A castle!”

7. Secret Technique: Bolster Up!

Just after serialization, the response had been very good. It had been. Udai had been in a good mood, asking “This will definitely be turned into an anime, right?”

But now, it had gotten to a point where they couldn’t let it get any lower on the survey rankings.

“........”

“Are you okay?” Akaashi’s senior sees him with his head in his hands, and speaks to him.

“...Oh, yes.”

“It’s about Zombish, right? You should bolster it up with something. Like, with a pretty girl or a handsome guy,” the senior says. “Well, I don’t know.” He returns to his seat, after saying his part.

“Bolster it up…”

Akaashi’s brows knit together.

Would that be enough? Could such a hasty, superficial solution entertain the readers? Well, the current results point to the fact that they’re not entertained. But even so, shouldn’t they be charming the audience with the protagonist’s appeal, or how interesting the story is?

“The protagonist’s appeal, huh…”

But what are the features of a protagonist that will be loved?

What kind of story makes the readers want to come back for more?

“.....”

It would be the anticipation the readers have for the main character. What will happen next week? What will he show us next? Expectations as such. There must have been a lack of absolute protagonist strength, if he thinks about it.

But that was the result of trying to create a dark fantasy, painting a delicate picture of emotions. Precisely because it was an absurd world with a zombie knight appearing in it. Was that what they had done wrong? Was it impossible for his literature department-aspiring self to make an entertaining manga, after all…?

After pondering for a long time, Akaashi lifts his head with a start.

“....!”

Wait a minute.

Am I making the same mistake again?

Am I thinking I could control the author and the readers?

“...No. Pour your spirit into each ball, pour your spirit into each ball…”

Yes. Focus on the next point, the next ball. Focus on this week’s story, the obstacle the protagonist must overcome.

His desk becomes messier each day, as if to reflect inside his heart. Akaashi closes his eyes, and focuses his mental state.

“Don’t think about what’s easy, think about what’s fun. What’s fun…”

The survey rankings going down, getting discontinued isn’t fun. Then what is he meant to do…?

“Give feedback… Connect it to the next step… The next…”

The seniors look at Akaashi worriedly, in front of the printer.

“Akaashi is muttering to himself again, is he okay? He won’t quit, will he?”

“He always comes back to life afterwards, you can leave him alone.”

“Yep.”

“I want an absolute, strong main character.” Akaashi says to Udai, during their meeting.

“Absolute?”

“Yes. Like a star that hits any ball with his utmost ability.”

“Am I going to get discontinued?!”

Udai stands up with a clatter, face growing pale. Akaashi shakes his head quietly.

“...Please calm down. It’s not getting discontinued, yet.”

“...Yet…” Udai shrinks, and sits back down.

“It’s a tough situation, but let’s turn things around.”

They’re burning their bridges behind them.

On the walls around the meeting space, there are many posters of works that had been turned into anime and movies. And the cardboard boxes blocking the corridor are packed with samples of goods.

They have to join the ranks of those popular works, at all cost…!

Akaashi brings his gaze back to Udai, and starts to summarize the things he had thought about for the past week.

“The main character… Zombish is a ‘star’. The readers have expectations for the star. What will he do next? What awesome moves will he show us? What kind of crazy risks will he take?

“We want the main character to amaze us with unexpected, yet charming actions. Whether Zombish sinks or swims will depend on how he overcomes next week’s desperate situation.”

Akaashi lifts the paper bag on the floor. “And there’s a favour I want to ask from you.”

“What’s this? I was wondering about it for a while.” The paper bag handed to him is unexpectedly heavy. Udai glances inside. “A blu-ray?”

“Yes. I picked out swashbuckler films of all types, that have useful scenes for composition and pose references. At this point, we should take in anything cool and flashy.”

“Thank you!”

“Also, it will be hard for you to watch it all, so I wrote the times for scenes I want you to watch.” Akaashi gives him a note.

“I’ll definitely watch it! I’ll use them as references!”

“I’ll do anything I can as well. Let’s both try our best.”

There’s no way Akaashi can control what story the author will bring to him, what the other works will be like, how the readers will react.

So, he should think about what he can do, what he should do.

Avoiding discontinuation— it’s hard, but it shouldn’t be impossible.

10. Our fight has only just begun!

“Zombish is getting discontinued… You have seven chapters left…”

After getting the phone call informing him of the discontinuation, Udai had gone outside. Staying in his room felt too painful. But why, and how he’d come to the editing department, he doesn’t remember.

Akaashi had been taken aback, after Udai had come without contacting him. But one look at his face, and he knew he couldn’t leave him by himself. And so he had taken him to a nearby coffee shop to talk to him. It was just his luck that he hadn’t gone outside the company.

“Please order anything you like.”

Akaashi gives the menu to Udai sitting opposite to him, but Udai drops it onto the table, not having enough energy to hold it.

Akaashi pulls the menu closer to himself, trying not to show his shock. “Is coffee all right, then?”

“........”

There’s no answer, but Akaashi asks for two cups of coffee from the waiter. He chooses his words carefully, and begins to speak.

“We had unfortunate results this time, but…” Akaashi continues, to the dejected Udai. “And as a suggestion from me…”

“........”

“I would like to get a fresh start with a new work. We should solidify the concept more for your next work, and compete with a work only you can make.”

“Next…?” Udai raises his head at last, only to slam it back into the table. “There’s nothing! There’s no such thing that only I can make!” He lifts his crumpled face, and yells.

“That’s not true. There must be something…”

“It is too! There’s nothing!”

Akaashi can only bite his lip, while his assigned author descends into total panic.

What should he do…

He can’t just say “Bye, then,” and leave him feeling downcast. He had wanted to part ways with him in a positive manner, connecting him to the next step. That might just be his own ego talking, though.

“...I’m sure there’s a good theme for you. Is there anything you liked as a child, or something you put your heart into?”

“I’m just a jack-of-all-trades, average guy. I’ve just gotten by in regards to study, sports, art and music…”

When Udai had been in good form, he had preened about it, saying “I can do pretty much anything!”, but now he’s totally dejected. Well, that can’t be helped. He’s getting discontinued, after all.

The only thing Akaashi can do, is to tell him his completely honest thoughts.

“I don’t think a serialized author is just a jack-of-all-trades, average person.”

“I’m not a serialized author anymore, I’m a discontinued author…”

At that moment, the waiter arrives. He shows a slightly intrigued face at Udai’s words, but immediately puts on his professional face and turns on his heels.

Akaashi takes the cup, and inhales the aroma of coffee to calm himself down. He thinks. Maybe he should make some small talk, and change the mood.

What should he talk about? Not about his work, or about what lays ahead. Then, about Udai himself? He wonders what he had talked about with him recently. What club had he joined in college? Where was he from?

And he remembers.

“Udai-san, you told me before that you’re from Tohoku. Were there any unusual traditions there? That you can write a manga about.”

“...Yeah, I’m from Miyagi. But I lived in a normal estate, it was all pretty normal.”

Udai says with a hoarse voice, and absentmindedly puts sugar cubes into his coffee. Many, many sugar cubes. Akaashi thinks he’s adding a bit too much, but there’s an atmosphere around them that makes him unable to say that.

“Well, maybe where I live is in the middle of nowhere in the countryside, to you. You’re from Tokyo, after all.”

“That’s not…”

Akaashi thinks that Udai is getting a little too dejected with him, but he can’t be blamed. “Zombie Knight Zombish” is Udai’s first serialization, and his first discontinuation.

Food, sleep… Udai had sacrificed such human necessities, and yet his work had not been well-received. Of course he would be dejected.

And as a new employee, “Zombie Knight Zombish” was Akaashi’s first work that he had launched from nothing. Due to being emotionally invested in it, Akaashi had felt deeply disappointed about the decision made for Zombish.

Which is exactly why he had wanted to end it on a positive note. Surely there’s something in common with them, that they can talk about…

Akaashi, feeling cornered, opens his mouth. And starts to talk about something unexpected, even to himself.

“...Actually, I have someone I know in Miyagi. It was in relation to the club I was in during high school.”

“I see.”

Udai stirs his coffee with lifeless eyes, not picking up the conversation at all. He doesn’t even drink the coffee that is surely too sweet.

“........”

Of course. Someone else’s high school years is the most irrelevant subject to Udai right now. But really, what should he do? Telling someone they’re being discontinued, and thinking of what happens afterwards, is a first for Akaashi. And it’s a big job. He isn’t sure what the correct thing to do is.

Akaashi falls silent, and Udai opens his mouth. “...What club were you in, during high school?” He asks, not sounding that interested. It feels more like he asked out of obligation, because there was a break in the conversation.

Akaashi feels regret, after realizing he’s made Udai read the room for him. But at the same time, he feels relieved that some of Udai’s energy has come back.

“Volleyball.”

“I see. I did volleyball, too.” Udai says. “During my years, we went to the Spring High nationals, too.”

At those words, Akaashi places the coffee he had lifted back onto the table.

“Oh, me… too.”

“Really?! That’s amazing, Akaashi-san!”

“No, you too.”

And with a light premonition, Akaashi asks. “...Which school did you attend in Miyagi?”

“It’s not a powerhouse, so I don’t know if you’d know…” Udai laughs, before answering. “It’s called Karasuno.”

Please look forward to Udai-sensei’s next work, “Meteo Attack”!

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu novel translation #akaashi keiji #udai tenma #zombie knight zombish

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