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user2772636 · 4 months

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Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

After the incident, things take a turn for both better and worse. All with that, gym class has turned the school into a zoo. When people can't take their eyes off of what's yours, you take their ability to see. What an ironic thing for a one-eyed boy to set his mind to.

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Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: injury, teen boys being teen boys, jealousy (there's a small love triangle in this chapter)

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Chapter two: My eye only

===

I stand next to Simone, waiting a few feet away from the butcher's for Michèle. I rummaged through my bag, making sure everything I needed for gym class was with me.

Simone rubs her thigh next to me. I smack her arm lightly.

"Stop touching it. You're going to make it worse." I say and she stops.

"It's going to be so embarrassing when we go to gym class. What if the love of my life will be there, and they see me with this ugly bruise on my thigh? First impressions are important. This bruise is gonna mess it up." Simone sighs anxiously.

"I don't think you'll meet the love of your life in a room full of sweaty, teenage boys. Plus, I think you've already met him. 3 o'clock." I nod my head towards Jean Pierre, walking out of the butcher's side door.

She greets him, and he only looks at her. I nod as a greeting. He only glances at me, too.

After a while, Michèle follows after him, closing the door.

"What's going on?" Simone asks Michèle. I greet her good morning. She smiles and greets me.

"He has a disciplinary hearing this afternoon." Michèle says, worried a little. We start to walk.

"There's nothing you can do. Stop worrying. Know what else is today? Our first gym class." I nod in agreement.

"Guess what?" I already knew the answer to that question, and roll my eyes.

"I fell this morning. I'm going to have a huge bruise." Simone whines.

××《☆》××

We are walking through the gate when Simone greets two girls.

"You already know everybody's name?" Michèle asks, impressed. I nod to the girls Simone greeted.

"Not everybody. Just the girls." Simone smiles at Michèle.

"I hope we don't do endurance classes. Do you sweat a lot?" She turns her head. "Hi, Laubrac." She turns back to us. We hear Laubrac say hi, too. Michèle also greets him.

"Why did you say hello to him?" Michèle asks Simone.

"Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Michèle?" I tease her, smiling at her now flustered state. Simone laughs.

"No. Why would I be jealous?" Michèle says defensively.

"Don't worry. I'm just teasing. But I see the way you look at him. Did something happen in detention that I don't know about...?" I tease further.

Her face turns red like a tomato. Me and Simone laugh more.

"Whatever. Moving on, I swear, if my brother gets kicked out..." She shakes her head.

"He won't." Simone reassures with a knowing tone in her voice.

"Don't you remember Descamps? He took his eye out." Michèle exclaims. I feel myself gag, remembering the incident.

"Fine. But you know what's good?" Simone asks her.

"Don't say he still has one eye." Michèle says before Simone could answer her own question.

"Descamps is recuperating at home, so the teachers aren't seeing him. But they are seeing your brother." Simone says matter-of-factly.

"Your brother with his perfectly combed hair, good grades, nice manners." She's totally in love with him, it's obvious.

"People are thinking about him. No one's thinking about the one-eyed boy." We look in front of us to see everyone looking towards the gate. We turn around, and my heart drops to my stomach.

In all his glory, Joseph Descamps stands, had just walked through the gate. He looks the same as the day I last saw him, only now with a bandage on his eye and the glint of sun in them gone.

××《☆》××

Heels clack against the hardwood floor, making it creak.

My eyes travel to a familiar mop of ash brown hair. He turns his head, and I'm lost in a trance, unable to look away.

I was right. There was no brightness in his eyes (or eye) anymore. His stare felt blank, unreadable. He continues to stare, and that's when I snap back to reality and look away.

I still feel his eye on me for a few seconds, and then he goes to turn his head. Though his stare felt cold, without it, I felt colder.

"Can someone give me the dates of the Battle of the Marne?" Annick and a boy raise their hands.

"Mr Felbec?" Ms. Giraud says, and Felbec stands up.

"September fifth to the twelfth, 1914." Felbec answers. As I watch Felbec, I feel a pair of eyes on me. They're framed, but not Descamps.

It's the blonde boy. Applebaum was his name. He's decent looking, tall, sharp nose, but not so sharp sight. I look at him, and he looks away hurriedly.

Ms. Giraud gives a slow nod. "And who were the opposing armies?" Annick jumps in her seat, trying to get Ms. Giraud's attention. It certainly caught mine.

"Ms. Sabiani, are you going to jump on the desk for me to see you?" Ms. Giraud walks over to her. "Don't you think you have enough attention as it is?"

Is she jealous of Annick? Her beauty? Her youth? Her knowledge? It seems like it. Annick slowly drops her hand.

"The opposing armies." Ms. Giraud lets Annick answer.

"The French and the Germans." Annick answers.

"And the British Expeditionary Force. Don't raise your hand if you only know half the answer." Ms. Giraud adds on, rather cockily. Imagine bullying your student for your own benefit.

As she walks to her desk, she talks again. I might go deaf. "And please tie your hair back. This isn't a party. Okay, we'll talk more about the Battle of Marme tomorrow."

I feel Descamps turns his head to me again. I look, and I'm still met with an emotionless eye. He maintains it, but I waver and look away.

"Let's move on to naming our class leader." This catches my attention. Felbec raises his hand again. Ms. Giraud calls his name. When I turn to look at him, Applebaums eyes are stamped on me. I ignore his stare and shift in my seat.

"My classmates have always picked me as their class leader." Felbec tells Ms. Giraud. The class laughs. "I'm studious and get good grades." He adds, standing upright.

I still feel Applebaum's eyes on me. I glance at him and smile softly. He smiles back, a blush coating his cheeks. He's cute. I return my attention to the two people standing.

"Well, I'm not like your previous teachers, Felbec. You'll have to earn it." Ms. Giraud says with a smile. It doesn't fit her. Felbec sits back down.

"Does the Battle of Marathon mean anything to anyone?" Ms. Giraud asks the class. No one answers.

"I see. Whoever can give me the date of the Battle of Marathon this afternoon will be named class leader." Too bad I don't know the date. I sigh, not too bothered.

Unbeknownst to me, Descamps glares at the back of Applebaum's head and will do so the rest of the day.

××《☆》××

Me and Michèle wait for Simone to come back. She does after a while. We hear fast and light footsteps on the stairs. She sits in between us.

"So, I was right. There's a massive bruise on my thigh." She makes an O shape with her hand. We lean in to see. I make a hissing noise, feeling bad.

"What if I meet the love of my life today? Like tonheston. I see him. He sees me. We fall in love. And then bam. He sees my bruise." Simone fades into her thoughts. I shake my head, chuckling.

"I already told you. I don't think any of those boys are going to be the love of your life. Besides, don't you have a thing for-"

Simone cuts me off by putting a hand on my mouth. She gives me a wide-eyed look, nodding towards Michèle. I realise what could've slipped past my tongue and mouth 'sorry'.

Michèle looks at both of us confused, but before she could say anything, Jean Pierre walks out the school's doors. He looks at Michèle with a glare.

"Are you okay?" Michèle asks worriedly.

"Ask me again after the hearing." Jean Pierre replies coldly. I chill at his tone.

"He'll be fine. You'll see." Jean Pierre's friend reassures Michèle. They walk away.

"Fingers crossed, Jean Pierre. Good luck." Simone calls out. I give her a knowing look, and she gives me a look of desperation. I raise my hands as if to say fine.

I look to the side, and I see Applebaum. I wave to him. He waves back. When I look away, I see him through my peripherals, talking to his friends.

"Do you like him?" Simone asks me.

"I don't know yet." I smile to myself. Maybe this will make school more interesting. I turn my head. There's an eye trained on me, so intense I could feel it. It couldn't have been Applebaum.

I look up, and Descamps is staring, sitting on the bench I saw him on the first day. I squint to see him better. I could've sworn I saw his jaw twitch. I look away.

××《☆》××

"The boys have a locker room, and all we get is the teachers' bathroom." Simone says from inside.

"My brother hates me." Michèle says, mostly to herself, but also to us. I purse my lips in pity.

"Stop it." Simone says in an annoyed tone.

"Really. Even before all this. He's always been pushing me away." Michèle continues even after Simone's reply.

"I witnessed it, Simone. It's true." I say through the door to let Simone hear my voice. Michèle looks at me in thanks. I nod.

Simone opens the door, now clothed in her gym clothes.

"Brothers don't hate their sisters." Simone tells Michèle to reassure her. It doesn't work.

"You're just lucky." Michèle detests.

I walk into the bathroom to change. I try to rush, our gym class starting in a few minutes. My clothes are a bit small, growing out of them since last school year. I adjust it a bit. The shorts are too short, shirt tight, but comfortable enough. I shrug.

I walk out the bathroom. The girls look at me.

"Wow, look at that figure of yours. Let's go before class starts without us." Simone grabs me and Michèle's arms and drags us to the gym.

They continued a conversation I hadn't been in, so I just blocked it out. We walk out the school, boys turning their heads to take a second look.

××《☆》××

"Hiding it draws more attention to it." Michèle tells Simone as Simone tugs at her shorts. I walk in a few steps behind them, entering the gym.

"It's yellow and green with purple spots. It's gross." I cringe at the description.

"No one will see it." Michèle reassures Simone.

"Everyone will see it. These shorts." Simone groans. The boys walk in with their tanktops and shorts.

"Great, you're all wearing navy blue. Maybe if I just stand sideways." Simone shifts her feet. I stand in front of her, covering it with my leg. She smiles at that.

All boys look to their right when Annick walks in. All of them except Applebaum, who keeps his eyes on me. I guess he gained a bit of confidence because he waves and smiles. I wave back and smile, too.

"Guess there's no need to stand sideways after all." Simone says, defeated.

××《☆》××

The boys scatter around, stretching and walking around. The coach commands them to do certain things I didn't care to listen to.

Applebaum walks behind us. I turn and smile.

"Hello, Applebaum." I greet, and he turns rushed from his bended position. His cheeks are flushed. I smile softer, trying to make him less uncomfortable.

Descamps walks into the gym and sees me and Applebaum interacting. He continues to watch. I don't notice him.

"Hi." That's all he says. I nod. Good enough.

"Good luck in there." I tilt my head to the boys, beginning their formation. He smiles.

"Thanks. You, too." He stutters out, placing his glasses on the bleachers hurriedly, almost running away from me.

Simone turns around. "Why is he running away from you? Did you say something? He's so red." She laughs.

"I just greeted him. I don't know why he's so shy." I reply, confusion in both my face and voice. "And he said you too when I said good luck. That doesn't make sense."

Simone laughs louder. When Michèle asks why she's laughing, Simone explains, and now Michèle is laughing, too. I roll my eyes, but a smile finds it way to my face.

Descamps is on the bleachers across from us. I feel a gaze on me. When I follow it, my eyes lock with his. He smirks. I scowl.

Annick raises her hand and calls out for the coach.

"Oh, right." He says. "The girls." A sigh.

××《☆》××

We look at the rope attached to the ceiling. I grimace.

"Climbing? Is he joking?" The three girls shake their head. I sigh.

"Who first?" No one answers.

I glance at the game, wanting to watch the boys play through it. They start to assemble, the game starting. I notice Applebaum moving around weirdly, squinting and turning his head rapidly. He really can't see without those glasses.

He gets hit in the head and falls to the ground. The boys go up to him. My brows crease in worry. In the bleachers, Descamps smiles. It triggers me.

I get up from the mat, the girls asking me where I'm going. I ignore them, rushing up to Applebaum.

"Applebaum, are you okay?" I hiss in pity, a red mark on his forehead.

"Pardine?" Even without his glasses, he still recognises me. That's sweet. I smile.

"Mhm. Are you still good?" He nods at that. I help him up. Out of the corner of my eye, I feel Descamps dark stare on both me and Applebaum. I ignore it.

"Be careful." That's the last thing I say before going back to the girls.

"You so like him." Michèle teases. I smile. I think I'm starting to.

Annick gets on the rope, and Simone holds it still for her.

"She's even good at gym. She's Marilyn Monroe's secret daughter." Simone tells me and Michèle. We laugh.

"No, I swear. She's nothing like us. Did you see her skin? It's perfect. Straight out of Hollywood." Simone says, convincing us that she was serious.

They look to their left. I keep my eyes on Annick and on the game.

"Your brother is looking for you." Simone tells Michèle. Jean Pierre ushers her to him, and both of them go. I replace Simone's position by handling the rope.

Simone comes back after a while, taking her place on the rope again. I sigh. Let's see how long this'll be.

××《☆》××

Annick finishes climbing up the rope. I decided to go next. I grip on the rope and start climbing. When I'm at least five feet away from the ground, my hands shift, and I fumble.

I start to go down, my hand that's still on the rope getting a burn, and the inside of my thigh gets the same injury. Three feet away from the floor, I fall on my back.

The loud thud gets attention from everyone in the gym. Simone and Michèle quickly get to me, asking if I'm okay. I don't respond, my injuries stinging.

I get up after catching my breath. I stand slowly with the support of Michèle. I nod, and she lets me go.

Descamps walks towards us, and I think of something to say. "What do you want now?" I don't look up at him, eyes on the burn on my thigh.

"Coach told me to bring you to the clinic." He says with a sigh.

"Why can't the others do it instead?" I ask him, now looking up and feeling cold sweat. His stare is so dark. His height makes him more intimidating. I don't show my sudden fear.

"Because I'm the only one not in this class. Now quit complaining and come with me." He grabs my arm harshly, but his hold is gentle. I wince anyway. He rubs it gently.

××《☆》××

As we reach the clinic, the nurse is disappointingly not there. Great.

"Sit down." Descamps says, a commanding tone in his voice. I sit on one of the beds.

He grabs a few things from the first aid kit. I look at him in wonder.

"I didn't know you knew how to take care of injur-"

"What the hell was that?" He cuts me off, caging me in with his arms on the bed. He's glaring. He's mad. Why is he mad?

"What?" I ask, clueless. What could he be mad about?

"Your injury. If you weren't so foolish and took care of yourself, you wouldn't have burns on you." He grabs my wrist and puts it up, showing me my own injury. I wince in pain, and something shifts in him. Regret and worry.

"Why do you care so much?" I say, now angry. Something shifts in him again. Annoyance. I whip my wrist from his hands. He grabs it again.

"It doesn't matter why I care. What matters is that you're hurt because 'you' don't care." He squints at me. "Plus, why are you wearing such small clothes? Is it because of Applebaum? Do you care what he thinks? Do you like him?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"He's nice to me. The only boy besides Pichon." He clenches his jaw.

"Pichon, huh? That piggy? Do you like both of them?" He chuckles. "The blind boy and the pig. You have bad taste." He leans in close. Too close. I feel his breath on my face. I glance at his lips, then back up to his eye.

"You call him blind when you only have one eye, and at least Pichon has respect for us girls. Unlike you." I tilt my head, urging him on. He stays quiet for a while. His eye moves from my eyes to my lips.

"Stop being a brat." He says, voice low. He lifts my hand up and blows on my palm. I feel myself relax, my breathing shaky. He still has his eye on me. I look at him. He doesn't look away.

He continues to blow until he has no breath left in him. He takes a disinfectant, spills a few drops of it on cotton, and gently pats it on my burn. I wince. He rubs my hand with his thumb.

"Be careful next time. I don't want to have to take you to the clinic again." He says, voice almost a whisper, but still low that you can see his throat vibrate.

"Trust me. Now I know that it would be you taking care of me, I'll be a lot more careful not to end up here." I whisper, too, feeling tension in the air.

He scoffs. "Didn't I tell you to stop being a brat?" He says a bit harshly, but his touch is still so gentle that you could fall asleep.

I don't say anything back. After he puts antiseptic on my palm, he gently wraps it in gauze. I watch his face. He's entirely focused, there's even worry etched on his brows.

He put my palm down gently. He looks up at me, eye scanning mine as he hovers his hand on my thigh. I nod.

He put his hand down. Both of us let out a breath we didn't know we were holding. He might've thought he hurt me because his hand caresses me gently. Very, very gently. I might pass out from relaxation.

On my inner thigh, there's a small burn. He grabs a cotton with disinfectant and does the same procedure he did on my palm.

Once he finishes, his hand stays on my thigh.

He bites his lip. "Be careful. Remember it." He says, his voice so low I could barely understand what he said. But he was so close, I could even hear the stutter in his breath.

"Okay." I whisper out, my breath moving his hair. The door opens, and the nurse comes in. Descamps steps away from me, and I feel cold. Like winter with no fire. Autumn with no coat. So, yes, it feels very cold.

"Ms. Pardine. Sorry I couldn't tend to you. I was on my break." I shake my head, dismissing it. I get up, and Descamps is suddenly by my side, helping me straighten up. I look at him. He doesn't even glance at me. Instead, he's looking at the wall to his left.

We head out of the clinic. It's break time already. Descamps walks away, disappearing in the tunnel, not even saying goodbye.

I walk towards Michèle and Simone. I sit on the bench, and they look at me worriedly.

"Y/N, are you okay? We've been worried since you left with Descamps. Did he do anything to you?" Simone asks, eyeing my injuries. I purse my lips.

"He only took care of me, surprisingly." I keep my head down. They nod, relaxing. I see Descamps' group of friends walk out the tunnel with Pichon's group just a few feet behind them. They talk, Applebaum's glasses not on his face. I furrow my brows.

"Hey, guys. Can you come with me later to change?" They nod.

I glance back at the boys. Descamps is now talking to Pichon. I start to worry.

"Why does she never talk to us? Celebrities do that. She says she's never been to Hollywood, but who knows?" Simone says, cutting me out of my trance. I already know who she's talking about.

"Maybe she's just introverted?" I say based on my observations. Simone shrugs. She looks to Michèle.

"Are you listening?" Simone asks her. She seems distracted lately. Michèle says yes. I doubt she had her head in the conversation.

"Hearings can take a while. Don't worry." Simone tells Michèle. I nod, feeling pity for her.

"Don't feel bad if he's going through this, Michèle. He just wanted to defend you. That was his choice, you know? He cares." I tell her, placing a hand over hers.

"Have you used the climbing rope a lot?" Michèle asks. Very random, but Simone answers anyway.

"No, why?" She says, smiling confused.

"No reason. Forget it." Me and Simone purse out lips and forget about it. We look around the courtyard. I see Pichon pop out of the tree next to us. I look at him confused. He walks to our bench and starts calling out for Annick.

"You can just talk to her." Simone tells him. Annick walks over to Pichon, and they walk away.

"Do you think he's going to propose?" Simone asks as a joke. I laugh.

"Probably." They laugh, too.

××《☆》××

"So," Ms. Giarud places her coat on her chair. "Who deserves to be class leader?"

Descamps raises his hand, Felbec, too. I look at Descamps confused. How does he know?

"Mr. Felbec. Did you find the date of the Battle of Marathon?" Felbec stands up.

"Fifth century, B.C." Felbec answers.

"Correct. Would you say 'twentieth century' if I asked about the Battle of Verdun?" The class chuckles. Descamps raises his hand again.

"Mr. Descamps. Can you do better?" Ms. Giraud lets him stand.

"Four hundred ninety B.C." Impressed noises come from our class. I raise my eyebrows.

"Congratulations, Descamps. That's very impressive." It is impressive. Very.

"Can you tell me where you found the date?" This is where I have a feeling he doesn't know. I'm right. But he plays it off.

"In our book." Wrong answer, Descamps. I smile slyly.

"Surprising. The Persian Wars aren't part of the curriculum." Busted.

"Maybe it was another book. I don't remember." He's bad at playing this off. I sigh. Too bad for him.

"Already? If you've already forgotten something that happened today, how will you remember anything when you get your diploma?" Ms. Giraud says matter-of-factly.

"I gave him the date." Pichon says, standing up. That's how Descamps knows. That's what they were talking about earlier. Ms. Giraud lets Pichon continue.

"Four hundred ninety B.C. is in the manual on Ancient Greece." Pichon answers her.

"And I know that because..." He trails off and looks to the side. "I read it in the book."

"Why did you give the answer to Descamps?" Ms. Giraud asks him.

"I wasn't sure I could do it." He fumbles with his hands. "Being class leader, ma'am."

"There are worse faults than humility. Certain students, boys and girls, should remember that." Ms. Giraud says, fingertips balancing her on her table.

"Pichon, you are our class leader." Tension as sharp as a knife spreads around the classroom. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable in the silence. Good luck with them.

××《☆》××

"Should I iron Laubrac's jacket before I give it back?" Michèle smiles as she asks us.

"I knew you liked him. I totally called it." I say in triumph. They laugh. Michèle suddenly gasps.

"I forgot my cardigan." Michèle remembers, the smile on her face dropping.

"Go ahead. I have errands to run." Simone says. We all bid each other goodbye and part ways.

As I walk to my flat, a hand grabs my arm and covers my mouth. I prepare to scream, but stop midway when I see Descamps' face. I push him away.

"What was that for?" I shout angrily at him. He puts a finger to his lips, shushing me.

"You're too loud. Do you want to get caught?" He steps closer.

"Get caught doing wha-" He covers my mouth again, and I lick it. He pulls away, disgusted.

"Ew, why would you do that?" He wipes his hand on my shirt. I move away from him.

"Stop covering my mouth." I whisper-shout at him. We stand there, silent, his hand staying on my arm. I see him gulp, his adams apple bobbing up and down.

Our breaths are heavy. It's the only thing we hear. He walks a bit closer to me. I look up, his height getting taller.

"What do you want, Descamps?" I ask him, whispering. He doesn't say anything yet, eye focused on me. He drops his head.

"A warning." He says, his voice breaking a bit.

"What?" What does he mean by a warning?

"He got off with a warning." Oh. Jean Pierre.

"It's not fair. He took my eye out." I don't know why he's talking to me about this, but I feel pity anyway.

"Descamps-" I cut myself off when his arms wrap around my waist and his head tucks itself into my neck.

My hands absentmindedly go up to rub his back. I whisper confort into his ear. He isn't crying. He's just standing slumped, absorbing my warmth. I let him.

He suddenly pulls away, some sort of fear in his eyes. He runs out of the alley, and I'm left alone.

I decided after a while that I should start walking back home. He stays in mind the rest of the night. Even in my dreams, he lingers. His touch, his scent, his breath. And I hate it. I hate him.

××《☆》××

End of- Chapter two: My eye only

Next- Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say

××《☆》××

End of chapter two. I think this is longer than the first because i added more additional scenes so the joseph and the reader can interact. The enemies to lovers are really coming into place in this. Applebaum is a sweetheart, but for those who loved him here, sad to say, this will only be a one-time thing. Unless i change my mind in the future. Hope you guys liked it and again, leave a comment or dm me for recommendations. Thanks for reading!!!

#joseph descamps x reader #joseph descamps #mixte1963 #michèle magnan #simone palladino #jean pierre magnan #alain laubrac #enemies to lovers #reader insert #fanfic #x reader #slow burn

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gamblersdoll · 6 months

Text

IT'S THE MATTER OF IT.

summary: after dying of hanahaki disease, youre reincarnated.. but you are the past lover of the king of curses.

WARNING: story contains sexual content, blood, gore, death of reader in first half.

"sukuna-sama." she said, bowing to the tallest man she's ever seen. she wasnt too afraid of him, but she gave him his respect he required.

"Y/N." he said, looking down at her. "are you still sick?" he asked, almost sounding worried.

was he even caring... of course not. he is sukuna after all.

"yeah. im not sure why." she said, shaking her head in a light chuckle. "ill be okay though."

"if you say so, Y/N." he said, turning his focus to uraume. the voices of the person you loved and cared for, and the person you were acquainted with drowned out.

if only you knew.

coughing violently, you covered your mouth and witnessed a petal falling into your hand.

you're fucking with me.. right?

you couldn't allow sukuna to witness that, then he'd either call you pathetic or actually showing true concern and hunting down whoever you were in love with and making them pay. but the first thought was that he truly wouldn't care.

or so you thought when you landed in a bedridden state, the flowers consuming your lungs and making it up to your esophagus and eyes, almost not being able to speak nor see.

"why on earth didn't you say anything? you know how dangerous this is!" uraume screamed, worried that their friend would die– no, you were dying for certain. you couldn't tell sukuna that you loved him. otherwise, he'd laugh.

"its... fine." you whispered, only a whisper is what you could do. or risk you damaging your throat from the thorns. "where is ryo..?" you asked, barely seeing uraume's white and red hair.

"he said he was coming, I don't know y/n..." they said, raking their hands through your locs, the locs that sukuna somewhat admired.

"is it okay if I nap? getting really sleepy." you asked , smiling softly until you again, violently coughed up blood and flower petals.

"... yeah." uraume said, leaving you to yourself. they walked out the room to see sukuna, conversing with him about you. how bad have you gotten? he didn't know.

he doesn't care.

the door opened and closed slowly, revealing a flower consumed you, your eyes have flowered out, but still managing to speak.

"who is it." he asked, glooming over you with worried eyes, but filled with.. rage? you didn't know. you couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"i..." you trailed off, wondering if it was worth telling him. you decided against better judgment, coughing for a bit until you could feel yourself slipping away from life, deciding it was time.

"you." you had said, "it was you...." until you took your last final breath, the prettiest, bloodiest flower consuming you whole , sprouting out your mouth, and eventually, your heart stopped beating. all your warmth had gone away.

sukuna stood there with a blank expression, his hands did tremble a bit, but only for a few seconds in counting. he thought about pumping your heart, but he knew by his strength and anger, he'd crush your ribs, stabbing through your lungs from the brutal force he'd press onto you.

"ill make you pay for putting me in such a position like this, you damned woman."

—————————————

"y/n, these are your classmates slash partners, nobara , megumi, annndddd... yuuji!" gojo had announced, clapping his hands together in glee. "y/n and yuuji, you'll be great friends!"

"why would we be." you deadpanned, folding your arms and tapping your foot. "why are you so excited anyway? it's nine in the morning."

you felt a pair of eyes on you, it felt... dangerous. like a curse is watching you. you didn't recognize them, but yuuji gave you the friendliest smile and shook your hand, while in sukuna's domain, he peaked through yuuji's cheek.

there is no way you're here, you damned woman.

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #reincarnation #itadori yuuji #jujutsu gojo #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #jjk spoilers

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suiana · 10 months

Note

firstly I would like to thank you for feeding the horny goblin in me, now I've come back for more janitor shit and I had the dumbest prompt in mind! I don't know if you've seen White Chicks, specifically the beach scene ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) look it up if u haven't seen it but PICTURE IT:

dumb shy ready is walking along the halls doing something, doesn't see the wet floor sign and slips, on the floor like a starfish and dizzy from the impact; janitor comes and stands over them, reader's vision is blurry at first so they don't realize his junk is all up in their face (cause I imagine he's packing both ways 👀) - I will use this excuse as he's helping us up to cop a feel of his cake, I bet its heavy and I'd need both hands to hold one cheek AAHHHHHHH---

I will pay you to let me touch the butt

P L E A S E

"ugh... my head..."

you grumble, eyes still half shut. what even happened..? you were just walking, trying to get to class... your hands reach up to your face, trying to rub them only to realise that 'hey, it's kinda dark'.

your eyes immediately shoot open, wanting to figure out why it was so dark but to your horror, your crush was hovering over you. with his grey sweatpants... and... prominent bulge....

"shit- ah you're awake! I'm so glad!"

he murmurs, bending down as his worried face comes close to yours. his relieved sighs of relief help him to forget why he was so panicked in the first place. thank goodness you were alright! he'd never forgive himself if his lovely sweetheart died because of wet floor!

but to you, all you could focus on was how his round, plump and juicy ass was just mere centimetres away from you.

'i could touch it...'

devious thoughts swirled through your head as you completely ignored the janitor and his thankful prayers to god. your eyes were blank, filled with silly thoughts as you reached your hand out and...

"my ass- wait are you..."

time slows as you grope and squish the janitor's ass, totally mesmerized with the feeling of it. you didn't stop, no. not even when the janitor tried to tap you lightly with his shaky hands. you were far too lost in the amazing feeling of his juicy ass. only when soft moans flowed like music into your ears did you truly snap out of your drunken stupor.

your hands immediately retract back as your cheeks rush with blood.

"I-I'm so sorry!"

you gasp out, trying to excuse your pervertic actions. but to the older man whose cheeks were flushed, eyes hazy with lust, no excuse would ever be enough.

you tried wiggling away, to escape as usual. however this time, the janitor had the upper hand. he plopped himself down on your hips, toned arms crossed over his chest as he smirks.

internally you were screaming. but on the outside you were only babbling nonsense, trying to comprehend what was going on. what was the janitor doing?! was he mad?! no no no! your chances of being with him had to be in the negatives now!

...was what you thought until the janitor leaned forward, hands beside your head as his... man thing poked you.

"didn't know you were into me too... ah today really is a good day. thought you were scared of me or something..."

he hummed as his lips grazed yours. shit?! what the fuck was going on?!

"now... could you please touch me and finish what you started? consider this punishment for making me worried."

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere drabbles #yandere janitor #yandere janitor x reader #suiana brainrotting #suiana rambling

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ghouljams · 11 months

Note

Omg I LOVE your konig!cowboy story, it's entertaining just how dumb bee is around this whole farm life, but what if she wasn't really that stupid? Like imagine konigs computer completely shuts down, and he's not the most tech literate but bee sees the problem and goes full city slicker tech bro mode and fixes it in no time, showing she is in fact competent, just not about her current life

Congratulations on unlocking Bee's expertise.

This is almost exactly what I had in mind when I was trying to figure out how she could just up and move and do wfh and generally have no clue how to own a farm. I think she's 100% a tech jockey of some kind, maybe a little bit of a hacker type. She's very smart but only about her areas of expertise.

König's laptop is open on the kitchen table when you drop by, the blue screen staring at you like an angel of death. You wince a little. You hope he wasn't working on anything important. You set your fabulously not failed cookies on his kitchen counter and pull out the chair in front of the computer.

"König, you mind if I poke around on your computer a little?" You call, straining to hear any movement before he pokes his head into the kitchen. He narrows his eyes at the computer for a moment, and damn you've never seen someone think so long about having their tech salvaged. "I won't check your browser history or anything if that's what you're worried about, just wanna get it running again."

König makes a noise of surprise and embarrassment. "I am not worried about that!" He sputters, which tells you he actually was worried about that. You shrug and flex your fingers a little. "Don't poke around too much." He relents, you grin, men are all the same.

"I'll stick to drivers and operating files only," he gives you a blank look, you press a few command keys to pull up your favorite little black box, "I'll just get it back to working."

You spend a few minutes manually filling in code and resetting the garbled muck that's filling your neighbor's computer. It's not too bad but he's got a nasty worm that seems to have been installed through a lousey torrent. You wipe the last few installs as best you can, calling König over to translate every so often. It's bad enough reworking an operating system in English, you're losing your mind trying to parse German files.

Eventually he finds a chair to sit next to you and watch. You pull your feet up onto the chair, your posture atrocious as you concentrate.

"I don't even know what half of this is," You grumble, staring at what looks like a matrix of some sort, a really sparse one.

"Which one is giving you trouble," König follows where you point on the screen, eyes narrowed against the brightness as he reads through named files, "Ah, this is security."

"Your place has security? We're in the middle of nowhere," You shoot him a look, he hums half agreeing, "I'll leave it."

"Braves Mädchen," he breathes, "you're very good at this."

"I hope so, can't exactly fall back on farming." You grumble, fingers working to finish your repairs to Königs frankly ancient laptop. This thing is going to be running marathons when you're done with it. Probably best to avoid any major changes to the OS though, König doesn't seem like he'd be willing to learn new shortcuts.

This is good though, you feel like you're paying him back for helping you out so much. Especially when you hit the button for the final restart and everything springs to life with a pleasant chime. You smile at your work, typing in König's shitty password to check that everything is working alright. You check the time, updating the clock to the correct time zone.

You stop, dread making your stomach roll. Is it really that late? "We were supposed to see a movie," You frown. König shoos your hands off the keyboard and shuts his laptop, it rings like a death bell on your ever present forgetfulness. "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize, and now we've missed it," König raises a hand to stop your apology.

"I don't mind," He's so sweet, his eyes smiling at you over his bandana, "I enjoyed watching you work, it was very... informative." You offer a hesitant smile, that's certainly one way to put it.

König watches you straighten up from your position over the computer, knees dropping from where you'd pulled them up by your chest as you arch your back to stretch out the kinks. The satisfied little noise you make at the quiet pop is going to bounce around his mind for a while yet. The same way your focused stare and the silent movement of your lips as you read will stick with him.

He would have asked you for help sooner, but there was too much about you on that laptop to be safe. Still, your discretion was a credit to your professionalism. Although your flagrant dismissal of what you must have thought were his porn habits was... telling. How many men have jumped to get their computer out of your hands?

"I better go home, gotta feed the critters and all." You stand, grabbing your bag from the floor, "Thanks for letting me fix your computer."

"Of course," König stands as well, walking with you to the door, "Danke Schön, hummelchen." He tells you quietly, holding the door above your head.

"Bitte schön, König," your pronunciation is hesitant, but still leaves him wide eyed staring down at you, "I Googled a few basics." You explain, as if that could be the reason for his silence.

"I see," König tries to keep his voice from sounding too tight, thinks he even succeeds at it, "Then, Gute Nacht."

"Gute Nacht!" You reply enthusiastically, giving a wave as you turn to leave. His fingers tighten on the door, grabbing something other than your throat. If you were going to speak his mother tongue so prettily, you should have at least warned him. Maybe then he wouldn't have to close the door half hard. You are going to be the death of him.

#cowboy!König #Bee very excited to have a fun movie night with her good friend and neighbor #könig coaching himself in the mirror that this isnt a date and he will not ruin this for Bee #oc: Bee #könig x you #könig modern warfare #könig x oc #colonel könig #könig cod #cod x reader #x reader #cod mw2

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bratphilia · 7 months

Note

william afton nsfw alphabet i beg 🙏🙏 btw i love your blog you're doing god's work <33333

note: so um. i literally told michy, and i quote, "i cannot outdo the doer i fear" bc her william nsfw alphabet was so mf good like i was really worried i would not be able to come up with something original. so if you see any similarities to this!! it's her's!!

taglist: @dilfity

a = aftercare

not really affectionate. depends on who you are to him tbh. if you're just a fling/fuck buddy, you're pretty disposable to him (just gonna be blunt) therefore he's usually more concerned about himself. however if you're his wife you are allowed exactly one peck on the lips. he usually hits you with a cheesy one liner that's supposed to be comforting regardless.

b = body part

ass man ass man ass man. his favorite place to pull out on. he loves to spank you watch it jiggle as well as you jolt. loves to grab on it, snap the band of your panties on, bend you over his lap, etc.

c = cum

must. finish. inside. will buy you plan b, or just pull out on your stomach, titties, or, his favorite, your ass, but only if he has to (ie you're quite a taboo couple that may never see each other again). loves to paint your face after you suck his dick.

d = dirty secret

wants to hold a knife to your throat and make you call him william. he gets so tired of hearing you cry "steve!" that he just mostly makes you call him "daddy" or "sir." either that or he wants to try a cnc scenario where he's hunting you down as william.

e = experience

a lot of experience. if you have no experience, he just can't help but want to ease you into every little kink of his!! and if you're experienced? he likes that too because he wouldn't have to teach you to do everything.

f = favorite position

doggy style because he loves to see your ass bounce, especially when you look back at him and thrust backwards. it will have him thrusting into you even harder. also loves mating press and grasping onto your thighs so you have little free will. he loves any situation where you're completely at his disposal.

g = goofy

not goofy at all. this is serious business.

h = hair

very shaven!! he has a happy trail but shaves his pubes.

i = intimacy

even if it's rough, it feels intimate (hence why it can never be funny to have sex with him). loves to press his forehead against yours and force you to look into his eyes as he pumps into you.

j = jack off

takes pictures with and without your consent for masturbation material. he'll even go onto your social media and stroke himself to pictures of you with friends or family (zoomed in on you ofc) ITS FUCKING WEIRD. he jacks off literally at any opportunity he can find.

k = kink

loves it when you call him daddy. no questions asked. he loves the power dynamic it creates. has a huge degrading kink. expect to be called "slut" and "whore" AND he loves to be degraded by getting called a "pervert" or a "dirty old man." has a huge age kink, once again, loves the seniority.

l = location

anywhere and everywhere. he doesn't have a bucket list or anything but he just has to have you wherever he pleases! even if you're not totally onboard with it, he'll find other ways to convince you.

m = motivation

he just has high libido. point blank.

n = no

would immediately stop if you asked him to call you "mommy" or got way too cocky while he lets you have a little fun dominating him for once.

o = oral

he loves forcing his cock down your throat and fucking your face, don't get me wrong! but he loves smothering his face in and making out with your cunt. it's to the point where it's not about you and more about him satiating his personal hunger.

p = pace

depends on what he needs and william's mood varies minute by minute. if he's angry, expect it to be taken out on you with many spanks landed on your ass, hand in your hair, and all kinds of degrading insults thrown at you. if he's feeling more in the mood, he'll go slow and torture you, filling you up inch by inch, edging you, and making you beg him for your orgasm.

q = quickie

not a fan. must fuck you fully or not at all.

r = risk

does not want kids. he's very upfront about that. so even if he comes inside you, he's very very sure that you take a contraceptive.

s = stamina

has insane stamina for his age. will fuck you like a rabbit for hours.

t = toys

LOVESSS to torture you with all kinds of vibrators and dildos. wants to try tying all your limbs and holding a vibrator to your cunt to see how much you can take.

u = unfair

read above. he's also very much into bondage. loves to restrain your body and eat you out nice and slow, making sure his beard scratches in all the right places.

v = volume

depends on your disposition. more often than not he takes it as a compliment if you scream. but if you need to be quiet (cough cough stepdad!william) he'll stuff your panties in your mouth, choke you so you get the message, or just clap a hand over your mouth and threaten to "make you shut the fuck up" if you don't.

w = wild card

wants to try a threesome with a younger man to show him how a real man fucks. only rule is that he absolutely has to pull out, or else he's going "missing"

x = x-ray

you know what they say about big hands. mans is HUNG. he definitely gets more swollen as he gets hard too.

y = yearning

like i said, his libido is extremely high at all times. even in the most wrong situations. he even gets hard watching you genuinely upset/crying over something and asks if he can compensate to make you "feel better."

z = zZz

doesn't really care about waiting until you fall asleep. personally believes sleep is for the weak and there's so much he hasn't done yet.

#asks #fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut

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maryangelex · 8 months

Text

Never Let Me Go (Pt. 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Captain John Price x f!Reader

Summary: The doors have opened for a new dynamic between you and Price, one you're unfamiliar with but welcome with open arms, and it surprisingly only escalates when he's deployed

Warnings/Tags: NSFW, phone sex, masturbation, sexting, lingerie, panty kink.

A/N: comment if you'd send John a saucy pic!!!

Song for this one is The First Taste by Fiona Apple.

Ever since that morning at the cafe, John has become even more of a staple in your mind, occupying every waking thought and becoming the plot of every dream you've had.

The day after your little moment together, it had been hard to look at the man in the eyes without your mind going blank, cheeks a feverish red, and heart racing a million miles beats minute. And you could definitely tell he enjoyed to see you flustered by him just being in your proximity; as if he could see how your mind recalled every second of that moment, as if he could see the wetness of your panties when you thought about it.

And you wouldn't dare tell your cousin. Even though you told her everything in your life, that you would take to your grave.

For the past couple of days since then, John has continued his daily routine of coming to see you and spending at least an hour enjoying his coffee and your company. He's become yet another regular whose order you knew by heart. Sitting with him or even so much as taking his order and having his presence fill the cafe has become what you look forward to the most.

Today he entered the cafe like always, picking a seat at the counter to chat with you. His closeness brought the familiar, pungent smell of his masculine cologne, a scent that flooded your nose and felt like a warm hug. You smiled at him brightly and greeted him like you did every morning, which he did too. The way he eyed you always gave you goosebumps and a chill down your spine, with a pleasant flutter in your stomach.

You poured him his coffee and breakfast pastry, which he insisted you surprise him with a new one each time.

"You look lovely today, love," he gave you that cheeky smirk of his, with the fake innocence behind those kyanite eyes.

You scoffed, feigning humility, "You say that every day, John."

"And I mean it every day," he chuckled, taking his coffee with a pleased hum.

"What do you have planned for today?" you asked, your elbows propped on the counter. You thanked the fact that it was a light morning to be able to entertain John and that your cousin had been the greatest wingwoman you could ever ask for by taking care of the store whenever John came in.

"Same as always, talkin' to the pretty girl at the cafe, runnin' errands," he sighed, "But I'm the bearer of bad news today, actually."

You quirked a brow, "How so?"

"I've gotta go back to work, love," he said with an earnest sadness in his tone, giving you an achy look. And your heart sank for a moment, a tightness in your throat that came up all of a sudden.

"I'm actually leaving tomorrow," he cleared his throat, his voice apologetic, as if he was already soothing you and apologizing for the fact that he had so evidently made you woeful, made you miss him already.

All you could think about was the worry that this was him calling it quits, to whatever it is you two even had going on, if there was anything going on, to begin with. Maybe you had taken things a bit too seriously with John, maybe all he wanted was some company before he was off.

You cleared your throat, pushing down any sign that you were so visibly heartbroken. "I'll be wishing you all the best while you're away, John," your smile was forced as you were about to turn to the counter behind you, but John's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"I wanted to tell you because..." he started before noticing the loudness of his voice, "I was wondering if even while I'm gone, I'll still have you to come back to." The man's request was like Cupid's arrow through your chest.

"I'll be gone for a couple of weeks, but I'd like to come back n' still have a pretty barista to pour me my mornin' coffee," the cheeky bastard gave you a hopeful smile, which you returned and huffed a laugh.

"Of course, I'll be here waitin'," you said sincerely. You meant it, you really did. You would be waiting for him patiently and eager for his return. Now you felt stupid for being so insecure and anxious about John's intention; and you made a mental note to go easier on him, to trust him that he was an honest man with a kind heart that had a spot for you, because thus far he'd shown you nothing but that.

" 'M glad to hear that, dove. Does that dinner offer still stand for when I come back?"

"My door's open," you said, biting your lip to still your racing heart.

John spent the rest of the morning with you, chatting you up like he always did. He told you about what his deployment tends to be like, how sometimes all they have him do is linger around their temporary base and go through intel and reports and endless paperwork, and how it's up to the big guys to say what they do next.

You still didn't know the details of what he really did, he persisted that it was for your own safety, that he couldn't tell you even if he wanted to, but that truthfully he'd prefer to keep that side of him away from you because you were too good for those sorts of stories.

But you saw he made the effort to provide you at least a bit of clarity on his line of work, sparing you the gory details and instead giving you some peace of mind about what he did, and a small glance into that part of his identity at the same time.

By mid-afternoon, he was still there, probably the longest he'd been there with you. The shop remained fairly slow when it came to customers and orders, given that it was a random Wednesday when most people would be at work and only bothered to come to grab a small bite and a quick espresso on their break.

John showed the utmost patience when you became mildly busy though, enjoying the sight of you at work and the simplicity of just being with you, you felt it in the tenderness of his gaze. You asked him about the errands he said he needed to run, but he shook his head with a dismissive shrug and told you to "never mind that," that it wasn't as important as spending his last day home with you.

The man couldn't be any cheesier, and you loved every bit of it.

He managed to prolong his stay until the last minute, you had lightly scolded him that he needed to rest as much as possible before heading into whatever shitty conditions he'd be in for the next couple of weeks.

"I'd be lyin' if I said you scoldin' me wasn't makin' me like you more," said the cheeky bastard as he put his arms through his jacket.

"I'd make one hell of a naggin' wife, huh?" you joked, and if your eyes weren't deceiving you, you caught a glimpse of a light heat dusting John's smiling cheeks.

"A man would be so lucky." His words made your stomach flutter; his flirting never failed to make you feel some sort of indescribable way. The best way you could put it was that it made you feel giddy and wanted.

You escorted him outside, standing by the entrance of the shop in a spot that was out of sight from those inside, allowing for a bit of privacy with John. He stood in front of you, cozily close as always, and with a hand coming up to your hair to twirl a strand around his index finger. You had noted by now how much he enjoyed your hair, or touching you in any sort of way in general.

"So I'll see you in a few weeks, yeah?" there was hope in your tone, minding the dreadful thought that he might not come back.

"Promise," he said huskily, an affirmative tone that read your mind, "Don't worry your pretty little head 'bout me, I'll be back before y'know it, dove."

You took a stead forward and cupped his face gently, then stood on the tips of your toes to reach his tender lips. He welcomed your kiss, of course, declining his head to meet you, one hand on your waist and the other migrating to the nape of your neck.

You kissed him tenderly, but more confidently than you ever had before, with a newfound certainty, as if knowing that it was okay for you to kiss him first without hesitation. John kissed you back with fervency, his rosy lips catching yours and reluctant to let go.

When you two pulled away he held you tightly against him in an embrace before he left. It pained you to say goodbye, this man that you had known for such little time had your heart in a tight lock already.

It had been a week since John had left on deployment. You did not expect to be this worried in your life over someone. You had never had a long-distance relationship (if you could even call it that as being what you and John had). You didn't want to admit to yourself how much you missed him, or how much you thought about him, or how you dreaded something happening to him.

He couldn't have been more reassuring though, hardly ever failing to text you his status as best he could. He had let you know before leaving that he'd become less consistent at texting you, but that he'd go out of his way just to send you at least one message a day.

Every notification from him put your racing thoughts at ease, no matter how simple it was. Texts telling you about how work was going, in a way that made it sound like he was on a corporate business trip or as if he was a lorry driver traveling from one end of the country to another. Sometimes his texts would be about how he missed you, how the coffee in the base was sewage water and it was making him livid and exhausted, followed by the zombie emoji he had recently added to his regular repository.

A lot of the late-night and early-morning texts were tooth-achingly sweet, though; you cherished those the most, reciprocating the messages with sincerity.

Tonight he told you he had managed to get a tent to himself while two of his boys snoozed in another one with the third one on watch for the night. He told you he was hoping to get some restful sleep for once, given that he wouldn't have to hear someone else's snoring, but said it was just impossible to sleep with the thought of you banging in his head.

You thought he had you wrapped around his finger, but you didn't mind in the slightest. Instead, you decided to be bold and use that to your advantage. You felt naughty doing so but that was the best part of it. The heat that had been brewing in your core had started to be bothersome ever since John had given you a first taste of what he offered you.

So you made your way to your dresser, digging in the drawer where you kept your panties and finding a set you hadn't worn in god knows how long. It was like dusting off an old book. You only hoped it fit you still.

And it did, to your surprise even better than the one time you had worn it since you first bought it. The little fuchsia pink thong was snug on the fat around your hips, accentuating the plump curvature of your ass, and the lace balconette bra teased your nipples through the thin transparent fabric.

Your heart beat fast and you felt the dampness between your legs at both the sight of you in your bold garments and at the thought of sending John a picture. You dwelled on it for a moment, contemplating whether or not you should send it. Maybe it was unsafe to do so, maybe he'd get caught.

But you decided to give in to your impulses. You snapped a picture in a pose that showed your front, your curves popping in the revealing outfit, your tits pert, and showing the evidence of your arousal. Only your body and hair were visible in the frame, choosing to hide your scarlet red face and smile.

You waited a few moments, eyeing the photo closely before deciding "Fuck it" and hitting 'send'.

Your breath hitched, almost in disbelief that you managed to do that. You were quite proud of yourself, honestly. As you waited expectantly you bit the tip of your thumb in anticipation, staring at the chat on your screen.

But all you could see was the empty chat beside your picture. Then, John's chat bubbles finally popped up, only to disappear after a few seconds. They popped up and disappeared twice more after that, but no message was sent in response.

Your face fell, your throat running dry when you cursed at yourself. Did you freak him out? Was it bad timing?

You jumped with a shocked yelp when you heard the sound of your phone vibrating. You were getting a call from John now. You cursed at yourself once again, clearing your throat and bracing yourself to apologize profusely before you picked up.

"Hey, John I--" you stuttered before he interrupted you with what sounded like a breathy groan from his end.

"What're you doin' sendin' me pictures like that, naughty girl?" his voice was low and almost a purr through the phone.

You felt like you had gone into cardiac arrest at the sound of his voice. He sounded aroused, and it couldn't be more noticeable. You bit your lip suppressing the grin that tugged at your cheeks, laying back on your bed as your skin burned hot with the pleasure that rose within you.

You couldn't be more pleased with yourself.

"Thought you might enjoy that," you giggled.

John hummed contently, "Oh, I'm enjoyin' it alright...you've no idea how much." You heard a deep thigh coming from him.

"I think I have an idea," your hand trailed down your body, fingers brushing over the skin exposed skin of your breasts.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Mhm," you said coyly, your fingers traveling to the thin fabric covering your nipples, ghosting over the perked buds. "Would be lyin' if I said I didn't feel the same way."

"Fuckin' hell, princess," he growled, "N' I thought you were an innocent little thing."

You chuckled, your hand now toying with the hem of your panties. The sound of wetness came through the other end of the call, making the fire between your legs burn hotter. A moan brewed in your throat when your hand finally slipped into your panties, striking your index and middle finger between your folds and collecting the slick that pooled there.

"You toyin' with my pretty pussy, love?"

You nodded to yourself and answered with another "Mhm," letting a needy sound out as your fingerpads pressed against your achy clit.

You heard John's breath become ragged, the squelching sound becoming more rhythmic. Your fingers tried to match his pace as you rubbed tight circles on your clit, your pussy becoming impossibly wetter at the thought and sound of John jerking off on the phone.

"Fuckin' miss you, dove...miss the sweet taste of your pussy. Remember those cute panties I took from ya? Got 'em here, fuckin' my fist with 'em...thinkin' o' you."

You let out a whimper, recalling John fervently devouring you and the perverted act of him saving your underwear; now knowing their purpose made your mind hazy and your clit quiver. It felt like ages now, and your ache for him had been growing stronger since then.

"Want you, John," you babbled, quickening your pace, your hips wiggling and rolling to grind yourself on your fingers.

"Tell me what you want from me, sweet girl," he purred.

"Want your mouth," you breathed, your hand leaving the phone as you held it at the crook of your neck and shoulder, migrating to your pleading cunt to dip your fingers into your entrance. You let out another audible moan as you worked your fingers on your clit and filled yourself with the two others, "Want your cock, John."

You heard the man on the other line practically moan as he cursed at your words, "My sweet girl wants my cock, huh? You're gonna make me cum if y'keep talkin' like that." You heard him panting, the sound of him stroking his slicked cock hitting your ears, making you pump your fingers harder and faster.

"Tell me how you're fuckin' yourself, love," he commanded, and you obeyed him. You told him how you were fucking yourself with your fingers and how they weren't enough, how your clit would only be satiated by his mouth now.

"Oh my needy girl, 'm gonna fuck you good when I get back home to you." he cooed, a string of curses and groans falling from his lips. "Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?"

You moaned in response, only being able to manage a desperate "Uhuh," as you were reaching the precipice of your orgasm. John was nearing his too, you could hear it as he babbled on about needing you, about how he was gonna fuck you like you deserved when he got back home, about how he was gonna claim your pussy with his cock.

You announced your emerging climax with a cry and a choked moan, your body convulsing and your pussy clenching around your own fingers. The desperate chants of John's name were what made him cum, the way you cried out for him breathlessly and mindlessly, your moans almost sounding like sobs.

You heard him let out a muffled groan signaling his orgasm as if he had bitten down on something to keep quiet as he came.

All that was heard in the call now were both of you's panting breaths, until John let out a tired chuckle and you giggled in response, feeling flustered by your exchange. You lay on your silky sheets with a mess between your legs as you exhaled contently.

"I should send you pictures more often," you quipped.

"I'd love it if you did," John said, "And I'll keep my end of the bargain."

You hummed a laugh, repeating "I'd love it if you did," as your response.

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #fanfic #john price #john price cod #john price call of duty #captain john price #john soap mactavish #cod fanfic #john price smut #john price x reader #john price x y/n

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bangtanficsforyou · 8 months

Text

Girl Of His Dreams (04)

Pairing: Fuckboi! Jungkook x Reader

Au: Strangers to Lovers au

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut (eventually)

Rating: 18+

Word count: 9.5K

Summary: You think Jungkook is the utter definition of beauty. Jungkook thinks you’re cute but just not his type. Throw a magic ring into the equation, that makes you look like the girl of his dreams and you have the perfect recipe for heartbreak and tears.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Patreon | Playlist (coming soon)

The coffee has gone cold.

Not that you're aware of it though. All you have been doing for the past fifteen minutes is to stare intently into the cup and sighing occassionally. A few baristas have looked at you with worry and sympathy but again that's also something you remain oblivious to.

You don't know what to do; a thought you have found yourself thinking quite often in the recent days. Why, for the love of god, do emotions have to be so damn complicated? Why can't they be simple and allow you to live peacefully? Why must you always feel the exact opposite of what you want to feel?

The sole reason you put up with the idea of the ring is because you wanted to feel accepted, loved, seen and appreciated without having to go out of your way to prove to people that you are deserving of it. You did not consider the possibility of people talking about Jungkook taking an interest in you. It had slipped your mind that the ring is only going to fool Jungkook, not the other hundreds of people you will walk past on a regular basis.

You could almost hear what they were saying. Her? Of all people her? Has he run out of girls? Maybe Jungkook wants to try something different.

The whispers and not so subtle looks were too much for you to sit there and go through your class. Hence, you did what your panic filled mind asked you to; you left. Some might call it running away from your problems but you never claimed to be courageous enough to face your challenges with a firm grip.

On your way to the cafe, while ordering your cup of coffee, while mindlessly staring at the liquid, you have been entertaining a question repeatedly; should you just remove the ring?

It sounds simple. Then you can go back to your little hole and never worry about the things that you're worrying about now. It would be comfortable because you know what it feels like. This, however, is extremely unknown to you.

The only thing that is stopping you from removing the ring right at this very moment is the image you had built in your mind as to what putting the ring to use would be like. What if you let go of things too soon? What if being patient is the key and you could have your one month of living like the person you have always wanted to be?

Your thoughts are put to a halt by someone pulling the chair right across you. You look up and are fairly surprised when you find that person to be Brie.

"What are you doing here?" The question leaves your mouth without a second thought.

"I don't know myself," she shrugs.

You frown and check the time on your watch which only confirms what you already knew. "Isn't a class going on right now?"

She hums, "That it is."

You quirk a brow at her suspiciously, wanting to know the exact reason why she's here and not in the class, she so obviously had intended to attend.

Brie squints at you for the look you're giving her but then complies. "I was looking for you, cause I was worried."

Oh.

Well that's sweet.

But, "how did you find out where I was?"

"Bitch, you have your snapchat location on, which conveniently makes it easier for anyone on your friend list to find out where you're."

Ah right, snapchat location.

You sigh and get a little comfortable in your seat, knowing that the whole blank staring thing isn't gonna work anymore.

Brie only waits till she places the order for a cappuccino. Then she angles her body towards you in such a way that lets you know, for the next few moments you will be on the receiving end of all her attention.

"So," she begins, "what is going on?"

A lot. You want to just let all of it out and get it off your chest. Having someone who knows about everything that you're going through is honestly a blessing. But you resist yourself from spilling everything out, remembering that she too is someone who most likely finds that Jungkook showing interest in you is simply absurd. You remember the way she looked at you on discovering that you and Jungkook were going on a date. Although you do not fault her for having that reaction, admittedly her being a friend of yours, makes it a little bit disheartening to think that she too views you that way.

"I honestly don't know what's going on either," you chuckle, the sound coming out empty and sad. "All I know is that I'm the one to be blamed for it."

She frowns at how tired you look. She's not quite sure what's going on but by the looks of it, something's troubling you and whatever it is, you're apparently blaming yourself for it. "You shouldn't say things like that. We all mess up, doesn't mean you have to point fingers at yourself."

You cannot not point fingers at yourself though. You were the one who went ahead with the ring–

Right. You still need to figure out whether you want to continue wearing the ring. Quickly figuring out that even though you might not be up for spilling every single detail to her, you can still take her insight on what you should do. That'd be the best. It would help you stop running in circles.

"Brie, what would you do if you were to learn that love potions exist? Would you use them?"

Brie looks at you funny, wondering why you would ask a question about fictional things out of the blue. Nevertheless, she's not one to overthink things, if asked a question, she is definitely going to give an honest answer.

"I'd definitely use them," she nods, very sure of her words.

"You would?" Your eyes widen, mildly surprised at how quick her answer was.

"Yeah, I definitely would. On Henry Cavill," a bashful, dreamy smile appears on her face as she gets lost in the world of her dreams. "He can be my personal superman."

Ah, that way.

"No, no, no," you shake your head. "I mean would you use them on real life people?"

Brie looks disappointed for a split second for having to come out of the world where she's happily married to Henry Cavill. "What do you think Henry Cavill is?"

"No, but like real people. People you know in real life."

Brie wants to argue that she knows of Henry in real life and not from some animated world but keeps it to herself when she realises that for some reason you're really eager to hear her opinions and answers.

"If it's about people I know personally, I think it would depend on the who and the why."

"Elaborate," you prod without missing a beat.

"Nah, you elaborate on what scenario you want me to consider–", it's then that her coffee arrives. Thanking the barista, she takes a sip from her cup before continuing, "–technically there are an infinite number of scenarios I could consider for this hypothetical situation."

"What if you want to use the love potion on someone because you think that will make you feel better? Would you actually end up doing it?"

"In what ways is it supposed to make you feel better? Like an unrequited love–"

"Better about yourself," you cut her off, finding your anxiousness getting the better of you. "Someone giving you that amount of love and affection would make you feel good about yourself. That is why you want to use the love potion."

"Hmm," a thoughtful look appears on Brie's face. "Validation you mean?"

Validation. Is that what you want? You just for once want to feel like you're worthy of the things you have always wanted. Is that validation?

You're not quite sure.

"Let's call it that for the time being," you suggest, now taking a sip from your coffee. You grimace when the liquid meets your tongue, finding the temperature just odd. It's neither warm nor cold. It tastes like water.

"In that case–" she leans forward and rests her palms on the table "–no, I won't use the love potion."

You slouch in relief when you hear her words, finally having an answer.

You had expected yourself to feel disappointed if the answer were to be in the negative. But surprisingly, you're not. It feels right. Maybe somehow you have always known that this isn't the right thing to do and have only wanted someone to confirm it.

"But that doesn't mean, someone else won't do it," Brie comments after a little pause.

Your relaxation disappears slightly. You had thought that was it, that no is the answer. However, now that she seems to be continuing from where she left, you once again are on edge.

"What do you mean?"

She takes a deep breath, "I have done that thing where you look for validation from other people and I know I wouldn't do that ever again. But that doesn't mean someone else wouldn't."

"Everyone at some point or the other, has seeked validation. Now how they seek validation can vary vastly but that doesn't mean they're in the wrong, it only makes them human."

"You're confusing me," you say with confusion written all over your face.

"Let me put it this way, if I were to read a story about someone using love potion to feel better about themselves, I'd most likely feel sympathy. Can you imagine how lonely and desperate they might have been, to do that?"

For some unknown reason, those words cause a spark of something to ignite inside you. "What about the consequences? What about the fact that they would be using a person, fooling a person all for the sake of feeling better about themselves? Isn't that incredibly selfish?"

"Woah, woah, woah," she looks taken aback and then chuckles softly at how riled up you look about this. "Why do you hate this character so much that you simply can't stand the idea of them using love potion?"

Brie asks the question jokingly, not really meaning it but it hits you for some reason. Why do you hate this character so much? Why do you hate yourself so much?

"Listen," she begins after another sip of her coffee, "my stance is simple, using love potion on someone is selfish but it's only the lack of love that makes us selfish."

"I'm not condoning the use of love potion but I wouldn't hate a character for doing it, I'd probably only hope that they realise they didn't need to use it to feel better about themselves."

"Plus, who knows, maybe using the love potion is what would make them realise later in the story that someone else cannot make them feel good about themselves."

You could scream.

For so long you have been feeling this constant sense of guilt and shame for doing something so low. You have only run away from acknowledging it so that you can keep wearing the ring. Maybe all you needed was someone to shame you even further and scream at you for how selfish you are, for you to snap and admit to yourself how shameless and selfish you actually are. You wanted someone to tell you the things you have already been thinking and feeling about yourself for you to return the ring.

However, you were not expecting compassion. You were not expecting words that are said with you in consideration. Her words were not spoken out of judgement rather out of understanding and sympathy.

You don't miss Brie's words about how one must be incredibly lonely and desperate. Desperate, you are. But lonely?

If someone were to ask you even a minute ago, you'd say you're not. You're happy with the two-three friends you have. However, Brie's words seem to have thrown light to a part of you that's always been in the dark. Now, you feel as if someone's pointed out something that's always been there but you are only ever noticing it now.

It makes you feel an overwhelming sense of emotion that makes you want to cry because you feel seen but at the same time confused.

You close your eyes briefly to calm yourself down and will yourself not to let the tears out.

Nodding, you let go of the breath you were holding. "Thank you for indulging in this weird topic of conversation with me," you mean what you say, you might be still just as indecisive but you appreciate it so much that she was this willing to answer your weird set of questions.

"You're welcome, it was fun," she replies. "But now if we are done with that, care to share what had you so stressed that you had to leave the class like that?"

The question has your insides twisting. But for some reason, you do not find yourself hesitating as much as before. Maybe it's the previous conversation that has opened you up enough to tell her why exactly you ran.

"I didn't like how everyone was looking at me and whispering amongst themselves," you fixate your eyes on the table surface and refuse to look up. "I know they were talking about the picture and that just made me extremely uncomfortable."

"That makes sense," Brie muses, understanding that people repeatedly glancing at you and whispering while they are at it, cannot be a very nice feeling. "Although, it's none of their business, I can understand why they might be curious. Because you see, you and Jungkook are quite a surprise."

You close your eyes when you hear her words. You really could do without the confirmation of what you already know.

"I mean Jungkook is such a piece of shit and then you're, you."

Uhhhhhhhh.

Did you hear that right?

"What is that supposed to mean?"

For a brief moment, it's almost as if Brie is surprised that you don't already know what she means. But then she entertains the thought that maybe you don't know Jungkook that well. Or maybe, you're viewing him through rose coloured glasses. Afterall, she doesn't know how deep you're in, for him.

"Jungkook is…shallow," she speaks after a few moments of trying to find the right words. "But you're, you. You're quite the opposite, you feel deeply. You take things seriously while Jungkook is very fickle minded. Simply put, you deserve someone better than him."

You feel perplexed. There is no other way to put it.

Could that be the reason why she looked at you the way she did upon finding out that you were going on a date with Jungkook? Because she believes that you deserve better?

But then how come she even believes that you are worthy of the better?

Gosh, all of this is too hard to believe.

You have half a mind to ask her how she can be so sure that Jungkook is shallow. Is she duducing it simply from the fact that he's a bit of a player? But then you decide otherwise knowing you don't want to make things even more confusing for yourself. Plus, Brie isn't someone who bad mouths or passes opinions about people for the sake of it. If she's saying something about Jungkook there must be some reason behind it. What is it, you're not quite sure you want to know.

For a very brief moment you think back to your first date and how Jungkook didn't think it was disrespectful towards you that the waitress left her number with a note like that. Even if he did, he didn't say anything.

Pushing the thought aside, you focus back on the present. "I honestly don't know him that well."

Brie's question about how far the both of you are, into the whole dating thing is answered. "That's fine, I just hope you don't learn about his shallowness the hard way. Stay a bit wary of him and don't trust him too soon."

You know Brie's words are well meant. She genuinely seems worried about it and it somehow warms your heart. "I'll try to keep your words in mind."

She nods and smiles at you in approval. The silence that falls upon the both of you, urges you to get done with something you know you should have done much sooner.

"I'm sorry, by the way," not beating around the bush, you speak in a sincere tone. You notice the way Brie looks confused at your apology and clarify, "I should not have snapped at you last day–", Brie's confused look only deepens, "–when you were asking me about the date with Jungkook."

Brie's look of confusion finally disappears but she waves off your words with a flick of her hand. "That's nothing worth apologising for. You looked stressed, I should have taken the hint."

"Still, that was wrong of me, I do owe you an apology."

"Apology accepted," she huffs at your words and shoots you a thumbs up. "Now are we attending the next class or do we need some more sad girl hours?"

Your lips lift up involuntarily and even though you're not sure if you're ready to go to class just yet, you feel like you have some support. It makes you feel like you'll be fine even if you were to get weird looks from people.

"Let's go," you suggest. You take a look at your watch and your eyes widen when you notice the time. "We only have ten minutes till the next class begins."

She isn't bothered, as she leans further into her chair. "That means we still have like twenty minutes to chill."

Her words cause you to snort but you're not surprised considering it's Brie. Sighing, you too lean back.

Twenty more minutes, it is.

You have come to a decision.

Fascinatingly enough, in the course of the last few days, Brie's words kept ringing in your head. The more you replayed her words in your mind, the more you were getting this undeniable urge and it was that little chit chat with her from that morning that prompted you to come to your decision.

The decision wasn't that hard to make, honestly. It's just that a part of you kept overthinking if it were the right choice. But somehow you only found yourself leaning towards the option you now have decided to stick to.

You will remove the ring.

You simply couldn't get over the amount of relief you felt when Brie's words had briefly made you come to the conclusion that you should remove the ring. The way your shoulders felt lifted at the thought of not having to constantly battle yourself about what's right and what's wrong, was a tell-tale sign of what actually felt right to you.

It's true you'd have to go back to being the Y/N you heavily dislike. But that's something that stays with you, it doesn't affect someone else. It doesn't involve manipulating and lying to someone else. It doesn't involve having to carry the guilt of using someone else.

You have always been the person who has only ever existed to watch other people get love the way you have always wanted. It's so simple for them, they enjoy the love as if it's the sun rays. It's so natural, so comfortable, so acceptable. It only makes you think how if you were to find love, you'd probably treat it like the rain that is bestowed to a drought-ridden field. You'd probably worship it. You'd thank the heavens for listening to your prayers. You'd cry tears of joy and gratitude. You'd promise the gods above that you'll always be good and never take it for granted.

However, you have never quite had the fortune of celebrating love and you have complained about how unfair it is to you, an infinite number of times.

But the complaining comes from a place where you feel cheated of something that was promised to you. However, how do you keep your right to complain if you cheat someone else?

Feeling like a victim feels much better to you than to feel like someone who's only getting what they deserve. Feeling like life is doing you wrong, is better than feeling like you're getting back for doing wrong.

Even when you are at your lowest, you have had your head high because you didn't intentionally cheat someone, because you didn't do something you won't want someone to do to you. You have been mad at the world for encouraging you to see dreams and then being so cruel to crush it so ruthlessly. But then again, you'd very much like to feel like you have the right to be mad, to complain, to be bitter and to scream and shout in pain and anger.

You have also decided to steer clear of Jungkook. Or of anyone who's similar to him. Anyone who tries to remind you of everything wrong with you. You are already aware that you're not perfect, that you're not someone who qualifies for the word 'pretty' and you won't mind the absence of people who don't hesitate to remind you of that.

But for that, you first need to tell Jungkook that you cannot be his model. Which is why you're still wearing the ring. You do not have the courage to face him without it and what would he even see you as if he were to see you without the ring? Would he even believe he actually did choose you to be his model? It's not like you can explain it to him that this ring holds some magical powers. He would probably add the word 'crazy' to the list of adjectives he uses to describe you.

Today is practise day. You have decided on informing Jungkook about your decision as soon as you walk in the room as that'd be the best.

You walk with determined steps and swing the door open. However, your steps falter when you realise that Jungkook isn't alone. Taehyung and Jimin are already in attendance.

Shit.

How do you tell Jungkook in front of them that you want to quit? Even the thought of doing so somehow manages to shake your confidence as you keep imagining the range of responses they could probably have.

Guess, you'll have to wait till they leave.

Taehyung is the first one to notice that you're awkwardly standing at the doorway. "Hello, Y/N," his warm boxy smile greets you.

Taehyung's words make the other two men in the room aware of your presence as they simultaneously look in your direction.

"Come in, we were waiting for you," Jungkook says, getting momentarily distracted from the papers that are sprawled on his desk.

You tentatively smile at him and Taehyung, with Jimin already getting back to what he was previously doing, without paying you an ounce of attention.

You take a seat next to where Taehyung is sitting and ask no one in particular, "Am I late?"

It's Taehyung who replies, "no, you aren't. We had a class together and we just headed here the moment it got over."

You acknowledge his words with a small nod.

Deciding it's best to remain quiet as it might as well be the last day you are spending with these three, you look around the room and observe the various educational posters that decorate the wall.

You precisely ignore any conversation the three of them might be having with each other. That is until a few of Jungkook's words catch your attention.

"So, this is the final list of participants?"

Jimin hums as an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Final list?" You perk up, your heart rate speeding up.

"Oh yeah, the final list of participants arrived today," Jungkook informs you. "You can have a look at it if you like."

You are both curious and worried and hence, of course you take up on his proposition of taking a look at the document. As it turns out, it contains the name of participants from all colleges along with their pictures. It doesn't take you long to find Jungkook's, yours and Taehyung's name.

"How did they get my picture?" You are confused as you had no idea when things were in the process of getting finalised.

"From the documents submitted to college."

Of course.

"So does this mean no one can change their models or back out?" You keep your voice neutral, pretending to be looking through the document as you keep flipping through the pages.

"Saying that'd be wrong," you are no longer bothered who answers you. You are only bothered with what the answer is. "However, someone quitting now will lead to deduction of marks, unless it's a medical reason or an emergency. In case of which, supporting documents are required."

Isn't that just…. lovely? The very day you made up your mind.

Everything feels incredibly puzzled in your head right now. The determination that you had walked in with, fades away as you're filled with panic. What do you do now?

You entertain the idea of the door of quitting being closed and start thinking about what the future events could possibly be like. You'll actually have to practise modelling, you'll have to put yourself out there for everyone to see and be open to the fact that people will judge you.

Now you are no longer just skimming through the papers, you're also looking at the pictures of people you're supposed to compete with. There are plenty of faces, way more people than you imagined you'd have to be against and all of them are way better looking than you.

"So many colleges are participating," the words come out of your mouth without your permission as you find yourself so occupied with the recent realisations that your mind momentarily ignores the presence of other people in the room.

"Not all of them are good though," this time you know exactly whose words they are; Jungkook's. "Take these two for example–" his finger lands on the page you're currently on as he points at the participants from a college, "–they don't seem like the right choice."

"Why?" You're genuinely confused as to how he can derive that simply from the photographs.

"I mean, they quite clearly lack what one needs to be a model," he replies with a tilt to his head as he observes the papers.

His words stir up the pot of nervousness that is the pit of your stomach. Is there something special that one needs to have to be a model, except for regular practice? If so, how the fuck are you gonna make it?

"What exactly is required to be a model?"

"They have to be pretty," Jungkook now looks up, almost as if he has come to his conclusions and is satisfied with them. "They have to have an appearance that people find attractive. They clearly ain't it. As a model, you need to catch people's attention."

Your hands, which were busy flipping through the pages, stop. "Why do you think they won't be able to capture people's attention?"

"Their features are boring, plain and regular," he shrugs, letting the words out as if stating something that's supposed to be simple. "Nothing worth looking at and definitely nothing that catches attention."

Plain.

Boring.

Regular.

Your brows furrow painfully hard and you look away from Jungkook. You look back at the pictures in front of you and all you see is two smiling faces. They don't appear to be plain, boring and regular to you. They seem happy. The girl, Skye, has soft eyes and a gummy smile. The boy, Mike, has curly hair and a button nose. You do not find anything that supports Jungkook's claims and observations.

However, it's not unknown to you as to how it feels to be on the receiving end of words that make you feel like that. Like, plain, boring and regular. Like you're someone who isn't worth taking a double look. Like you're just an ordinary nobody. Like you will only ever amount to being a side character.

You know very well how it feels. How wonderfully it crushes your soul. Which is why it hurts you to think that someone else could be subjected to feeling that way. The thought that their smile could be wiped off from their face in the blink of an eye, just like that, makes you ache. You know how painful it is and your heart clenches at the thought of someone else having to go through that level of heartbreak.

"Well, isn't that a little too harsh of a judgement, when you haven't even seen them for yourself?" This is probably the most confident you have ever sounded while speaking to Jungkook.

"I won't call it harsh, it's just how it is."

"Do you really go on commenting on how people look without considering how they might feel?" You're confused and angry at how he can be so careless with his words.

Jungkook is caught off guard by your tone, only noticing now that you do not appear like your usual calm and shy self. He doesn't quite understand why you're suddenly like this. "It's not like they are here in the room."

How considerate of him. "Firstly, that doesn't make it okay," your words are firm and spoken with intent. "Secondly, I doubt you'd stutter with your words even if they were here in the room."

It's when your words are met with absolute silence that you take in your surroundings and notice how uncomfortable the air feels. But you're angry.

Angry enough to not back down on your words, angry enough to not feel guilty about having an outburst and angry enough to leave the room.

You don't hurry on your way out. Your heels click against the floor as you walk and pick up your bag. You look composed from the outside but only you know how your insides are burning with wrath. And when you leave, you don't run away from the tense atmosphere, you walk out of the room.

After your departure, Jungkook doesn't let the silence linger for too long. He has to get things done and there's nothing more important to him than securing first place in the competition.

He coordinates things smoothly as if you didn't just leave the room moments ago. He doesn't seem bothered at all by the little disagreement the both of you had.

It's only when it's him and Jimin in the room, that the little event is first mentioned.

"So what are you going to do about Y/N?" Jimin asks, genuinely curious as to how things fold out.

"I don't know," Jungkook muses in a relaxed tone. "Maybe I'll go talk to her or something."

"Are you planning on apologising?" Jimin's brows shoot up at the thought. Don't get him wrong, Jungkook can apolgise. It's not like he's physically incapable of doing so. In fact he does apolgise when he believes he's in the wrong. But that's the thing, it's very hard for Jungkook's stance to change when he thinks he's in the right.

"What's there to apologise for?" Jungkook is genuinely confused as to why Jimin would think there's a need for an apology. It's not like he did anything wrong.

Honestly, Jungkook would have preferred to let you be and let you take your time until you decide to talk to him. But again, it's something that involves the competition. He cannot wait for you to let go of the residual emotions of whatever reaction you had earlier. He knows it's best for him to put aside his ego and go talk to you.

If he wants to win the competition, he needs all his team members to work together. Which involves you.

You're sketching a tree.

You were not really fond of the idea of going to the canteen as you're still quite cautious of the looks people may be giving you. To add to that was your lack of hunger, which ultimately made you decide that this is what you'd be doing for lunch.

You're not quite sure if you'd be able to finish it in the forty minutes lunch time your university provides. It's not impossible to complete it but you doubt you'd be able to capture the details as well as you'd like to, if you were to rush. So you take your time. What's the rush anyway? You attend college almost everyday and the tree isn't going to grow limbs and change location.

You're not an expert with trees and do not have a single clue whatsoever about how long this tree has been here. But somehow the tree appears to be young. You have nothing to support this weird assumption of yours. For all you know, the tree might be extremely old or old in human years and young in tree years, you don't know. But to you, it appears to be young.

It has that spirit of someone young whose branches are aiming for something higher and higher. It doesn't quite seem shaken up by the storms and scorching heat, life inevitably must have put on its way. Each branch is filled with leaves and for every dying leaf, there's three new nodes sprouting. The little birds that have found their homes in the branches, bring more life to it, with their chirps and constant movements.

You only hope it has strong roots.

"Sketching that tree?"

Your pencil stops and you lift your eyes up to look at the source of the words. Jungkook.

"Yes," you nod and resume your sketching, not looking up even when he takes a seat next to you.

"It's rather odd to sketch a tree," he comments.

"Why? Too plain and simple for you?" The words leave your mouth as soon as they come to your mind. And boy do you feel an odd sense of satisfaction at having said that.

Jungkook chuckles loudly and his whole body shakes with movement. You do not bother to ask him as to what he finds so amusing in your words.

"So tomorrow, I was planning to take your and Taehyung's measurements. Hope you'll be there?" Jungkook queries with a hint of a smile still playing on his lips, a residue of his chuckles.

You hum absent-mindedly, not in the mood of thinking things through before you give him an answer.

Jungkook is relieved to know that there won't be any hindrance, when he hears your response. However, he's soon faced with a dilemma as to whether he should leave or stay. It's quite obvious that you aren't interested in having a conversation with him. But he wonders if you'll take offence to him leaving just like that. Wouldn't it make it look like he was only here to make sure that you're still willing to model for him? It might be true but well, he doesn't need to make it obvious.

Jungkook isn't someone who overthinks. Come to think of it, overthinking might just be the wrong word. Jungkook doesn't think twice before doing things. He likes being that way. He likes doing what he feels without giving much of a thought as to what it could mean or what it could lead to.

But here you are making him think twice before making a move. It makes Jungkook think that it's only fair that he gets to ask you the question he's been curious about since morning. After all, he's never seen someone react the way you did over comments made about someone else.

"What exactly had you so riled up?"

Your hands stop and you look at Jungkook with eyes filled with surprise. Is he really asking you that?

Your surprise only magnifies when you realise Jungkook genuinely doesn't have a clue as to what could have possibly made you react that way.

Wow.

"Do you really not see anything wrong with what you said?"

Jungkook doesn't need to answer you with words because the way he looks at you with confusion is enough of an answer.

"It's not okay to say things like that, Jungkook," to both of your surprise your words are spoken softly, without any trace of anger. "Words are powerful, they hurt people."

"You mean, saying things like they aren't good enough to be models?" He prods for further clarification.

"Words that do not take into consideration the impact it may have on people." You correct him, resuming your sketching.

"It's not like they will ever know that I said that about them, though."

You have half a mind to say that he's definitely not someone who hesitates to give his opinions irrespective of whether the person he's commenting on, is or isn't in the room. You know because you have experienced it yourself.

"That doesn't make it right, it's the fact that you think that way," you breathe, choosing not to speak what's on your mind. It's true that you had made that point earlier but then things were heated. Now, if you repeat the point again, you doubt you'd be able to provide him with a proper answer if he were to ask how you're so sure of your words.

Jungkook is amused with your words, for he thinks they are absurd. "So are you saying I cannot think my own thoughts now?"

You shake your head softly, understanding he's not getting what you're trying to say. It makes you take a pause and you try taking a different approach.

"What even makes you think that they can't be good models?"

"Well it's the truth, had it not been me, someone else would have said it sooner or later," he shrugs.

"Have you seen them walk?" You question without missing a beat, with a challenging lift of your brow.

"No I haven't but that doesn't mean–"

"So you're judging their capabilities solely on the basis of how they look?"

"Listen," he finds it absolutely ridiculous, because it's like you are turning a blind eye to something that's just so obvious. Modelling does require people to look a certain way. "If they want to pursue modelling as a career, sooner or later they will face such comments."

"That's the thing! And it shouldn't be that way!" You exclaim, your voice turning slightly high pitched. "No one should ever have to feel like they cannot do what they want or cannot achieve what they want to because of the way they are."

"There's never been a rulebook for what a person can and cannot do. But you know who comes up with these rules?"

"People like you."

Woah. Woah. Woah. That's a heavy accusation.

"I didn't do shit," he scoffs, surprised at how you seem so passionate about your words. "It's only how life works. You have got to be logical and swallow the harsh truths of life."

"And who decides what's the truth?" Your voice is back to normal again, for you find yourself questioning him once more in hopes that he'd realise how superficial he sounds.

"Some truths don't need to be said, they are just facts on which the world runs," Jungkook answers, making his point.

However you counter him immediately. "They are not truths Jungkook, they are simply beliefs. Beliefs which do not have a proper ground because they originate from mere ideas."

Jungkook comes to the realisation that there's probably no point in arguing with you as to why he said what he said because you apparently have an entirely different perspective of seeing things. That's not to say he doesn't find your views interesting.

However, your words only make him more curious.

"Why are you so affected by it when it doesn't involve you?"

Jungkook has noticed how you speak the words as if it's you who's been hurt and as if it's you at whom his words were directed at.

"I-I am not affected by it," your words come out unsure as you are momentarily caught off guard by his question. To add to that, you are not quite sure what is a good answer to that, you just feel the way you feel.

"You are though," he states, quirking a brow.

One thing about Jungkook, it's very easy to read him. You think the reason behind that is how Jungkook is always so sure of himself. He probably doesn't ever feel the need to hide the way he's feeling or say things that don't match with his inner thoughts. He is always so confident. You are yet to see emotions like nervousness, doubt, shyness on him. Now that you think of it, you find it very difficult to imagine Jungkook being any of those things.

But thanks to his easily readable expressions and body language, you can tell Jungkook is curious. Curious enough that you know he won't settle for a vague answer.

"I don't know why I'm affected by it," you claim, knowing those words are not entirely true. "I just don't like the thought of someone getting hurt or feeling like they aren't good enough. That's a very painful feeling."

You are aware that telling Jungkook that you know how hurtful his words were because you know the feeling very well, isn't a good idea. He won't understand. Plus, you're not really willing to have that level of vulnerability with him.

Jungkook is confused. To him it doesn't make sense. You got so agitated, that you didn't hesitate to leave the room, all because you didn't like the way someone else could feel on hearing those words?

Confusing, indeed.

Despite feeling like it, he chooses not to ask you any further questions. He has come to the conclusion that you're someone who's quite difficult to understand, at least for him. You're an emotional person, that much is obvious but then the depth of your emotions are seemingly so deep that he can't quite get to the bottom of it.

He nods at your words and with that silence falls over the both of you.

However, the silence only urges you to break it. You don't know if you'll ever get comfortable enough around Jungkook but you know you aren't yet. And you're not really sure you'd like to hang around long enough for that to be achieved.

"If you're getting the measurements tomorrow, how long until your designs come to life?"

Jungkook doesn't expect you to start a conversation but he's more than glad to be talking about his designs and the competition. "I'll have to go to the market to get the raw materials. After that it will probably take a month to get all six of them done."

"So you'd still have three weeks in hand?"

"Yes," he affirms.

"Are you excited for it?"

"You bet I am," a certain twinkle enters his eyes and you assume it's excitement. "My mom will be in attendance and all I want is to win that day."

"Are you a mama's boy?" You tease.

"Maybe I am," he admits, with a curl of his lips and you're admittedly surprised because you didn't think Jungkook to be the type of person who'd openly accept to being mama's boy. "But I'm looking forward to the day because I'll be seeing her for the first time in twelve years."

"Twelve years?!"

He nods. "Yeah, she got remarried and moved to the states when I was eight."

You have so many questions.

You want to ask, if his parents got divorced? You want to ask why, even if his mom got remarried, did he not get to be in her presence the way a child needs to be? It's understandable that she's in the states but not seeing her in twelve years? You want to ask if he has at least been in contact with her, throughout the years to make up for the void he might have felt without his mother.

But you're not as confident as Jungkook.

You don't want to ask or say anything that could make him uncomfortable or that could make him recall things that he doesn't want to. But most importantly, you're aware that these questions are extremely personal and no way are you and Jungkook anywhere near close enough for you to ask him these questions.

"I am pretty sure she would be happy and proud regardless of whether you win or not," you say with a small smile. "You'd be the best to her, anyway."

Jungkook is caught slightly off guard by your words. However, he finds himself smiling involuntarily and a certain feeling of warmth makes its way to his heart at the thought of his mother being proud of him.

He really cannot wait for the day.

Anger.

It's a rather powerful emotion. One which makes you temporarily blind to everything else. It can have your mind narrowly focused at getting your point across. It's an emotion that replaces the blood in your veins with fire. It can also make you forget about everything else temporarily.

And that's pretty much what had occured.

In the midst of the anger you had temporarily forgotten that you know shit about modelling. The relief that you had felt at the thought of discontinuing being a part of Jungkook's team, is now replaced with twice the amount of worry.

All it took was a night's sleep for you to come back to your senses. With the anger being washed away from your veins, reality came crashing down. But now you carried an additional weight as you were also aware that this competition meant a lot to Jungkook as his mother will be in attendance.

If all of that wasn't enough, there was that dream again. The one where you're a little kid getting laughed by other kids your age and where there suddenly appears this tall, hooded figure whose face just always remains hidden. And the way you crawl in pain everytime it starts laughing, the way it makes you numb is exhausting. Just like last time, this time too you woke up breathless and just couldn't go back to sleep after that.

You're anxious and sleep deprived.

The best you could think of was to still go forth with your plan and just leave. But then you were reminded things weren't as simple anymore. You leaving also means deduction of points, which would ultimately mean Jungkook starting off with negative marks. For obvious reasons, it serves as a major reason why you haven't left the team yet.

But if you don't remove the ring and just decide to stay, would you be even able to do justice to Jungkook's designs? Had it not been for the ring, the model wouldn't have been you. It would probably be Tina, someone who's of Jungkook's choice. If you were to represent Jungkook's design, wouldn't it be morally wrong on so many levels?

There was also a teeny-tiny part of you that just wanted to go for it and give it your best, just so that you could prove your point from yesterday. You found yourself thinking what it would be like if you were to actually do a fantastic job at modelling and get rounds of applause for your performance.

However, the fear of failing and lack of confidence quickly shut down those thoughts. Chances of you doing it are next to null.

But all of that makes it only more and more confusing to you. Do you quit now, knowing it would lead to the deduction of marks and do what's morally right? Or do you stick with it to avoid negative marks for Jungkook?

Nothing is ever simple for you, for the love of god.

"Y/N?"

Your steps momentarily halt when you hear someone calling your name. Turning towards the person who's called for you, you're surprised that it's Taehyung.

"Heading towards your class?" He asks, quickly catching up with you.

You nod at him, feeling a little nervous because you've never really chatted with him outside properly. "You?"

"Same," he replies, with the boxy smile that always seems to be on his lips. "Didn't know you too had a class this early."

"Yeah, I have early classes most days."

"Well, don't they suck?"

"They absolutely do," a small chuckle escapes you.

A brief moment of silence falls on the both of you, which gives Taehyung the time to choose his next words carefully.

"By the way, you're coming today for the measurements right?"

Hesitation plays on your face as you are yet to come to a decision if going forth with the modelling would be the right choice. However, it's not like you can respond to him saying that you won't be there for the measurements. That'd probably lead to a whole lot of questions you're not sure how to answer.

"I'd be there."

Taehyung is glad that's the case. He didn't think that things from yesterday were serious enough for you to quit. But at the same time, he wasn't quite sure you'd be willing to take part in today's activities.

Truth be told, you left quite an impression on him last day. It was rather satisfying to watch someone give their piece of mind to Jungkook, even if it was for a brief moment.

An obvious question that could pop up is, why then, if he's someone who thinks this way, did he not object when Jungkook was making those comments?

The answer to that lies in the fact that he's known Jungkook much longer than you. They might not be all buddy-buddy like Jimin and Jungkook are but he still knows Jungkook well enough to know that talking to him about certain matters is fruitless and perhaps a waste of time and energy.

"That's cool," he comments, with an excited grin. "I really look forward to going down the runway with you."

The image of Taehyung walking in all his glory while you stick out like a sore thumb, flashes in your mind. "I'm not quite sure how that'd turn out to be."

"Why would you say that?" He frowns in mild confusion, not missing out on your nervous smile.

"I've never done modelling before, I'm not sure I'd be any good at it," shrugging lightly, you let the words out without much of a thought.

Any other day, you'd probably have said something else as you really do not like telling your insecurities to people. Especially the ones you're so entirely sure of. It feels the equivalent of asking them to console you. It feels very attention seeking. However, your mind is already riddled with questions and you simply do not have the energy to overthink as to what other response you could have given.

"The key thing about modelling is confidence," he claimed, with his shoulders lifting to emphasise his point. "While walking on the runway, for those thirty seconds or so, you better believe you're a goddess."

All the more reasons for you to think you'll be shit at it. "Oh I'll definitely not be able to do that."

Taehyung frowns deeper at the way you laugh, apparently, at yourself. "Why not?"

"Because I'm shit at modelling." Your words have the same energy as someone saying duh, like it's the most obvious thing.

He shakes his head. "You think that way only because you aren't confident enough."

"I'm not confident enough because I know I'm not good at it," you laugh, kind of enjoying the conversation now that it has taken a playful turn.

Taehyung also has a silly smile on his face. "Nah, nah, nah, it doesn't work that way."

You roll your eyes jokingly and snicker, "I'm sure it'd be quite a sight if I were to walk like a goose with the confidence of a goddess."

"Come to think of it, gooses would make good models," he hums, imagining the scenario.

"They'd sure garner a whole lot of audience," you comment, now the scene playing out in your head too and dare you say it's stress relieving.

Taehyung laughs and it causes the soft curls of his hair to bounce. His laugh is loud and free, you notice. He laughs without a care in the world and honestly, it's as much of a sweet sound as it is infectious.

"I was nervous too before my first modelling gig," he adds, a warm and light smile playing on his lips now that his laughter has died down. "But sometimes you just got to ignore that voice and put yourself out there."

"And believe me, you can do an exceptional job at it if you allow yourself to."

You had protests on your lips but they die when you realise how sincere and genuine Taehyung looks. It leaves you speechless.

"Ah, that's my building," he announces before you can fully grasp his previous words. "See you in like three hours?"

You nod wordlessly and before you know it, he's bidding you goodbye with another warm smile.

The words he leaves you with swirl in your mind as you're taken over by a sense of disbelief.

You're not used to believing people's words when they show faith in you. Taehyung, however, seemed so natural with his words as if they were so easy to be said. It didn't feel like he said them because that's what he thought he was supposed to say.

You're in disbelief because a part of you believes he meant what he said.

You can do an exceptional job at it if you allow yourself.

His words ring in your head and you feel this wave of courage wash over you.

Taehyung thinks you can do it. He didn't lie to you for the sake of it. Maybe you actually can do it. But then again, you'll never know if you don't give it your all.

The thought causes a shiver of nervousness to run down your spine. You were not expecting to have this sudden change of thinking when Taehyung called for your name. But now that the words have had a significant amount of effect on you, you cannot seem to be able to push down the thought of just going for it.

Even if you were to go for the other option of quitting, it would ultimately be affecting Jungkook. It would admittedly be wrong to keep him in the dark and model for his designs, unless, you do them justice.

You're not quite sure what kind of affect the ring has on Jungkook. But you're almost entirely confident in saying that he does not view you as the girl of his dreams or isn't irrevocably in love with you. Because from the times you have spent time with him, you have never once felt that way.

It was only after yesterday that you felt like you could be sure of your assumptions. It was the moment when the first thing Jungkook asked after your little disagreement was whether you'd be there for the measurements. He was quite clearly concerned only about the competition. You had somehow managed to ignore the voice in your head about the waitress thing, but this, you could not.

The realisation, however, wasn't uncomfortable. It felt relieving to know that he isn't in love with you. Maybe the ring has made Jungkook feel attracted to you, but that's pretty much the extent of it.

If, by some chance, Jungkook does happen to be in love with you, you think you might just have chosen the wrong guy to make you feel loved. Not that you ever plan to try the ring on any one else, though. You have learnt your lesson in the form of extensive overthinking that has drained you both physically and emotionally.

Nevertheless, you're also sure that there's no spark between you and him. What you felt that day was simply physical attraction and what propelled you to be hurt so deeply is most likely his words which made you feel so lowly about yourself.

You know that going forth with the modelling might mean Jungkook still finding you attractive to some extent but you'll make sure nothing ever romantically takes place between the two of you.

You had made a crazy whimsical decision based on your emotions and you don't think it's fair if Jungkook were to suffer because of it. It's not like you're over the emotions that Jungkook had triggered within you with his words but you have gotten used to the constant nagging of that insecure voice. Now, you can ignore it enough to think.

You still feel pathetic but at least now you have gotten used to it and have made peace with the fact that maybe you indeed are pathetic and that there's no changing that.

However, somehow, Taehyung's words have seemingly given you enough confidence to put yourself out there. Another important lesson you have learnt in the past week or so, is that, it's for the best to just make a choice and to stick with it. The questions of 'what-if's are simply never ending.

You shut your eyes and take a deep breath and decide to face the consequences that you have been avoiding and have been incredibly unsure of so far.

You're going to model for Jungkook.

Fun fact: when someone finds themselves unable to make a decision it can often be a sign that they don't trust themselves enough :)

Also, I'm gonna upload a sexy enemies to lovers au featuring Jungkook in one of those bikes (you know exactly what kind 🥰) on my patreon this Monday. If you want to read it before anyone else you know where to find me 😌

permanent taglist:

@bloodline1632 @embrace-themagic @jeonsorchid @fragmentof-indiffernce @royallyjjk @jeonninja @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @blairscott @jungkookslittlebun @hunbun07 @merlinkgeorge @i-have-no-life-charlie @cherryluvhobi

Series Taglist:

@youremyjinearth @charcutetaerie @hunbun07 @jyupuff @rosieatron @armydgirl @heartjiminie @leedoesntknaur @j3oooonsnsns @teteschim @azur3s @berryonasummerevening @zelchena @eegyo @oopscoop @itsdingdong

#jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook angst #Jungkook FF #College au #Jungkook college au #jungkook scenarios #Jungkook x OC #Jungkook series #BTS fic #Fic: gohd

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fairykazu · 4 months

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GINGERBREAD COMPETITION WITH CHILDE contents // established relationship, cheesy pick up lines / nicknames, baking chaos, one f bomb notes // i wanted this to be longer but ive delayed it for so much. hopefully by the time this is up im working on the next oneshot masterlist

childe had that look in his eyes, the fighting spirit he gets when he gets an idea to fight with you. playfully, of course. "babe," you weren't looking in his direction, instead, you were wrapping bows over the presents.

once he gets an idea, he never lets it go. "babe," he began to pester you, poking you in the sides while you were as still as a rock, used to of his antics. he started to frown, "babe, name, c'mon, aren't you my my sweet pea pookie? the apple of my eye?"

didn't phase you yet? don't worry, he still has a lot of nicknames up his sleeve. you began to wrap more presents. "sweetie muffin?"

you know if you give in, you have to listen to whatever he says to say for the moment but if you don't, he will pressingly continue with the cringe nicknames to make you listen to his announcement. as much you do want to know his announcement, you also wanted to finish wrapping presents as soon as possible.

"pumpkin butter honey biscuit..." that actually sounds really good. he pouted, it's really cute how he pouts despite the current circumstances. he's like a pitiful dog.

you were keeping your defenses up until he got closer to the nape of your neck, whispering, "sweet mcdreamy nutter butter... please..."

now that was terrible, you winced, "what?" he smiled when he finally got your attention, he cleared his throat while he held a fake microphone, "ahem, may i announce an idea?"

after finishing two bows, you tapped your chin with your finger, pretending to think, "hmmmm," you looked into his cerulean eyes pleading you to say yes. "you may."

already from your answer, he was with glee. he began to act like a host in those reality tv shows, "in honor of the winter spirit and tsarita, i say, 'we shall, have a gingerbread competition!'"

the idea has crossed your mind but considering the baking skills and how much childe likes to wing his recipes, "gingerbread competiton? who's going to make the bread?"

he smiled, "we are!" snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you up from the floor. you tapped on his shoulder as he sets you down, you furrowed a brow,

"the recipe?"

childe waved his phone around, "xiangling!"

you nodded, thankful that childe wouldn't wing the cookies this time. last time it was too salty when salt was supposed to enhance the sugar in the gingerbread. "okay, fine. what's the prizes?"

he exhaled nervously as you peered at him, "i didn't think this far. i thought you would reject my idea."

"start with the thinking pretty boy!"

flustered a little, he replied back with "ok, my sugar snookums."

you sighed, "i need you to stop with these, ajax." he laughed a little,

"these won't stop, pookie dookie bookie."

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

as the ingredients are prepped and ready, the challenge is set. the person with the best house, voting decided on instagram, would win by choosing the christmas movie and halloween costume for the next year, which isn't a prize per say but childe thinks so. despite the fact, you suggest he should choose and he always faltered to go with yours.

childe rolled up his sleeves as you tidied up your hair. glancing at your boyfriend, you recalled back when people had told you different rumors about him. how he was a playboy or indifferent cold hearted person, despite it all, you didn't fall for those.

but one particular one caught your attention, one being his eyes being always blank, missing a shine in his eyes. but when you look into his, it's always filled with light like how the sea reflects the light in every wave in sunny afternoons. "babe? is something wrong?"

"yeah," you replied as childe's face became concerned. he held your head in his hands, inspecting anything on your face.

"what's wrong?"

"you're too pretty."

he giggled, twirling one ginger lock around his fingers before turning around, clearing his throat. a dust of pink across his face, "i mean, thank you, babe. i appreciate it!! um, let's get started, yeah!!"

it was an hour in, the gingerbread cookies were done baking, cooling off away from the oven. while you were sketching your idea for your house, thinking about a castle or maybe a cottage? childe tapped your shoulder, you turned to his direction,

"hey girl, mind if we take a picture?"

you ignored him and continued to draw, "hey, c'mon," he pouted as sighing as you turned to him again. "'cause i need to show Santa exactly what i want for Christmas." he winked as you laughed,

"okay, childe."

"im the rizzler- wait what?"

"what?"

"childe? not even babe? you hate me!" childe bawled, dramatically draping his hand against his forehead. "didn't know that you are such an ice queen. i think im going to get a frostbite from your gaze of hatred and bullying," he started to frown, eyes pretending to water.

he's so dramatic. you sighed deeply, snaking your arms around him. he burrowed his head into your shoulder, soaking up the attention you're giving him, "i apologize, my blizzard babe, i'm trying to win the competition."

childe's jaw dropped, "YOU SAID A CHEESY NICKNAME???? i can't believe youre getting into the christmas spirit." he silently cheered as you retorted,

"and no one will believe you that i did."

"fuck."

#vidia's 23 xmas event #astronetwrk #genshin impact fanfics #gender neutral reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #childe fanfic

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eating-plastic · 10 months

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Carnival Lights: Henry Barrow x Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder (come on, it's Henry), swearing, some mean!Henry, naive!reader, sunshine!reader x grumpy!Henry (my favorite dynamic lol), some fluff, probably grammatical errors

Word Count: 3434 words

A/N: This is for that anon that asked me if I wrote for Henry Barrow (assuming that they wanted me to write something for him lol). I know I said I was going to take a break from Killer Frequency, but the “people pleaser” in me wanted to get something done. So yeah, I hope this isn't too disappointing. I also hope that my interpretation of Henry is to your liking (you gotta get creative when given a blank slate like him 😆). As such, I also hope anyone else that is a fan of this skrunkly also enjoys this as well. Oh, also, this takes place before the events of the game during Marie and Henry's "national murder tour" leading up to Gallows Creek. Just thought you should know that. Bye!

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Sparkling lights and the sound of upbeat music and screams of excitement flood your senses as you skip through the crowds attending your hometown's yearly carnival. You had always partaken in the festivities ever since you were a child, and the event still filled you with joy. Some of the older booth vendors and ride operators even knew you by name.

You had originally shown up with two of your friends, promising that they wouldn't get too "lovey-dovey" with each other since they were a couple, but that was broken about 15 minutes into your arrival. Feeling like a third-wheel, you broke off from them, not really caring too much. You could easily enjoy yourself here without them.

After you finished playing a game where you had to try and hit cartoon sea creatures with a water gun (and failing since your aim wasn't the best), you decided to head to something you knew you were good at: the funhouse maze.

You knew the maze like the back of your hand, and could easily make it from the entrance to the exit, so you decided to see how many combinations of routes you could go. You wanted to know every nook and cranny that these dark, black light lighten halls had to offer.

Once you got bored, you began to make your way to the exit. Once at a crossroad where you needed to turn right, you stopped when you heard a man let out a shout of frustration. Worried that they were lost, you made your way towards the noise to help them out.

'God fucking damnit,' Henry thought. He was so fucking close to getting the man his mother told him to kill. He was right on his tail and then...he was gone. Now he was lost in this Goddamn maze and it was all his stupid fault because he knew he wasn't good with mazes. It was a good idea in theory, since the man would be all alone with no one would hear him scream. But of course in practice it had to bite him in the ass.

He tore his mask off and shoved it into his large duffle bag at his side. God, was it making it hard to breathe in this stuffy prison. Not to mention how that man was probably long gone by now.

'Augh, what am I gonna tell mom?' worry began to flood his mind. She was no doubt going to be pissed at him.

Luckily for Henry, his unaware savior was approaching.

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

As soon as you rounded the corner, you were now facing a man of decent stature, with long hair, a black trench coat, and a large duffle bag at his side. It was quite odd attire to be wearing in the middle of summer, but maybe he was just a worker at the haunted house who wanted to try out the maze on his break. He also seems to be oblivious to your presence, muttering to himself.

"Hi!" you chirp, causing the man to jump and spin around.

"The hell are you doing, here?" he hisses.

"Uh, it's a maze at a carnival. I'm here having fun," his harsh tone was completely lost on you. "You're lost, right?"

"What do you think?" he snarls, but you just laugh.

"Yep! I thought so! Come on, I'll show you the way out," you grab his hand, noting that he was wearing black leather gloves. Also odd, but once again that could've been just another part of the haunted house attire.

The man rips his hand from your grip as if yours had burnt his. You look back at him confused, but just shrug and begin to run off towards the exit.

"Hey, wait!" the man shouts and begins to chase after you, making sure to be on your tail so he could leave.

Eventually, you and him were able to taste the fresh air of the carnival, with the added smell of fair foods. You turn to look at the man, only to be taken aback a bit.

He looked to be a boy about your age, with piercing eyes but a very handsome face. You also noticed that he was unfamiliar to you.

"Huh, I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?" you smile at him, but he just turns to walk back towards the crowded rows of booths. "Hey, wait up!"

You decide to follow him. If he was new, you didn't want him to be overwhelmed or lonely.

"I'm Y/N!" you grin, but he just continues walking forwards. His eyes scanning the crowds and his jaw tight.

"Oh, you don't talk much, huh? That's okay! What do you wanna do? Do you wanna get something to eat? Oh! Or we co-"

"Look, don't you have friends or something that you can go hang out with?" he asks sharply. Unfortunately for Henry, the tone was once again lost on you.

"I do, but they'd rather make out in the tunnel of love than hang out with me," your tone drops slightly which makes Henry's eyebrow quirk up. After a couple of seconds though, just shake your head and smile back at him. "It's okay though, because I met you! I love meeting new people!"

'Jesus, what was your deal?' Henry thought. You were like a Care Bear in human shape. So sickeningly sweet that it was making him feel weird. How could someone like you exist in the cruel world his mom had told him so much about? Has it not broken you, yet?

"Oh, look! Bumper cars! You wanna go do those?" you beam up at him. Henry sighed. If he put up with this, maybe you would leave him alone. Besides, you provided him good cover. A new face like him dressed the way he was all by himself may drive suspicion. So he turned his head to look at your eager face and uttered one word.

"Fine."

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

You weren't bad at bumper cars, but you also didn't win. Not that you cared though, especially since your mystery man had won. You were surprised at his skills and made sure to tell him.

Henry listening to you gush over him was odd. Not used to getting such praise from someone who wasn't his mother. And like with his mother, it made him feel good.

You continue to skip through the crowds with him at your side. He was still scanning all of the people around you, but his jaw wasn't tight anymore. That elated you, as you took it as him finally enjoying himself. You both stop when you hear someone call your name.

"Is that you, Y/N?" the voice of an older man called from a game booth. Your face brightens and you run to him, Henry following after you.

"Frank! I haven't seen you in ages!" you hug him over the booth's countertop. Henry tenses up and watches the man closely.

"You're one to talk! I haven't seen you since you were just 'this' tall," Frank levels his hand to show just how small you were when he had last seen you. He opens his mouth to speak again, but stops when his eyes fall on Henry. "Hey, Y/N, who's your friend?"

"He's new in town! I saved him from the maze!" you chirp.

"Ah, okay," he drawls, looking at Henry suspiciously. Upon seeing you look at him fondly though, he puts on his best "friendly face" and holds his hand out. "Pleasure to meet you, son."

Henry looks at Frank's hand before shaking it, still analyzing the older man. You are completely oblivious to the tension, as you look at the milk bottles that are stacked up in the booth.

"Hey, Frank! Care if we play?" you pull some tickets out from your back pocket. Frank's mood changes at the sound of your voice and smiles at you.

"Of course! You and your friend here get three shots," he kneels down to hand you three baseballs first.

You throw all three and only get three of the six bottles down.

"Oh, well! Your turn!" you turn to smile at Henry and move out of his way. Frank hands him three baseballs just as he did with you. He takes the ball, pulls his arm back, and....

All six bottles tumble down with a force that startles both you and Frank.

"Well I'll be damned! I have never seen anyone knock those bottles down like that! You play baseball, son?" the older man asks Henry, amazed.

"No," he says, shortly.

The older man clears his throat at the awkward silence before looking towards the stuffed animals that hung around the booth.

"Well, you won. Pick out your prize."

Henry wanted to just walk away, but looked at you in his peripheral. You were staring longingly at a pink elephant plush that had a cute, cartoony face. He points to that one.

"This one right here?" Frank asks, taking the elephant down. Henry nods. "Alright! Here ya go."

Henry takes the stuffed animal and nods at him.

"Bye, Frank!" you call as Henry begins to walk away from the booth.

"Bye, Y/N! See you next year!"

As soon as you both are five feet away from the booth, Henry practically shoves the plush at you.

"Here."

"What-?"

"You wanted it. I got it. Now take it," he says shortly. You look up at him, confused, but he still continues to walk forward and scan the crowd. You take the plushie and smile at it. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, with the softest fur you ever felt.

You squeal and pull Henry into a hug, thanking him. He tenses up and pushes you off.

"What the hell are you doing?" he scowls.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I just w-wanted to...," you trail off, hurt evident in your voice and eyes.

Your change in demeanor causes Henry to feel guilty, and the couple of eyes he could sense on him only added to that feeling. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder.

"Look, I'm...I'm sorry, okay. Just...just warn me before you do that again...please," his voice is now soft as he looks at you, wanting you to know that he did really feel sorry.

"Okay," you whisper, still feeling miserable about making him uncomfortable.

"Hey, why don't...," Henry thinks for a second. "Why don't we go on a ride, huh?"

"Okay," a smile forms on your face. "Which one do you wanna go on?"

"Whichever one you'd like," Henry gives you the first genuine smile you had seen that night. This causes your own smile to grow and you take his hand to lead to one of the more thrilling rides. Henry doesn't rip his hand away this time, allowing you to drag him to where you wanted to take him.

Once at the ride you wanted to go on, you handed your elephant to the ride operator and Henry hesitantly gives up his bag, before you enter the ride.

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

By the time the ride had ended, you and Henry were wobbling in the best way possible. Henry let out a shaky laugh. He had never felt so alive. Where had this been his whole life? You let out your own laugh at Henry's reaction, before you and him collect your belongings and go on to do more rides and games. While walking, and even making some small talk with your mystery man, he stops when he spots a phone booth.

Henry thinks about his mother, about his mission. He had to call her, to tell her about how he couldn't get a good opening. He wouldn't mention how he was getting distracted or how he was having fun with a living ray of sunshine. He knew how she would probably react if he was honest.

"Hey, uh, Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you look up at him, beaming.

"I, uh...I have to make a phone call. I-I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay! I'll wait right here!" you chirp.

He nods and gives you a small smile, before walking to the booth.

Henry enters the booth and sighs. He rummages around in his pocket before finding some quarters and inserting them into the machine. He lifts the phone and inserts the number to the motel room he and his mother were staying in. He waits, tapping his foot nervously as he waits. Then it stops, and a familiar voice speaks from the other end.

"Yes?" his mother says.

"H-Hi, mom."

"Oh, Henry!" her voice is cheerful. "Did you finish your 'assignment'?"

"No, I haven't. I can't get a good opening," he doesn't mention that he had lost the man to begin with. "Besides, this one person won't leave me alone. They're constantly following me around and bothering me."

His mom sighs on the other end and thinks.

"I'll be over there in a bit. Keep trying, dear. And remember, if you do find your opening, do what you must. Poor kid," she mutters towards the end of the statement.

Henry's stomach drops. He knows instantly what she meant. He didn't want to hurt you. You had nothing to do with...with all of this. You were an innocent, sweet person in this miserable world. Why get rid of someone like you?

"Henry, sweetie, you there?" his mother questions.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, I, uh...I was just looking around. Look, don't worry about coming over. I got this, I promise. I'll call you if I need you, okay?"

"Hm...okay," she pauses, clearly skeptical at her son's words. "Please just stay safe, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, mom. Bye."

"Goodbye."

There is a click, and then the line goes dead. Henry lets out a shaky breath and sets the phone back on its cradle. A knock at the booth startles him out of his thoughts. He turns around to see you looking at him, concerned.

He opens the door to the booth and steps out.

"Sorry," you apologize. "I just wanted to know if you wanted something to eat. Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah...don't worry about it, okay? Food, uh...food sounds great."

"Okay. What would you like?" Henry thinks for a moment before cracking a smile at you.

"Surprise me!"

You nod and walk off to find a food booth. You knew exactly what you wanted to get. You had been craving it ever since you entered the carnival grounds.

Henry followed behind you, curious as to what you were going to get as you passed booth after booth. Then you stop, just what you were looking for.

"I was wondering when you were gonna show up," a woman greets you.

"Hi, Pam!" you smile at her and hand her some dollar bills. "Two candied apples, please!"

"Two?" Pam cocks her head to the side until her eyes fall on Henry. "Oh, I see."

She smirks, interpreting the mystery man besides you and how you were lovingly holding your elephant plush as a date.

A few moments later, Pam turns back to you and Henry with two candied apples in her hands.

"Enjoy, you two!" she winks at you when you and Henry take your treats. The two of you walk once more, while Henry investigates the sweet in his hand. You look over at him and laugh.

"What? Have you never had a candied apple before?"

"Uh, no actually. Are...are they your favorite?" he asks.

"Uh huh!" you nod eagerly. "I have to have at least one when the carnival's up!"

It was true. Ever since you had the teeth to eat them, candied apples had been your favorite treat, even with all of the cavities you had gotten over the years because of them.

Henry slowly raises the apple to his lips and bites down. The taste causes him to pause. He had never tasted something so sweet. It seemed fitting that they were your favorite.

"You like it?" you ask.

He nods his head, before he takes another bite.

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

"So you really aren't gonna leave tomorrow?" you look at Henry sadly.

"Yeah, I-I'm, um...I'm afraid so."

You had learned that Henry was just visiting your hometown on a road trip with his mom. You thought that was fun, because your family always goes on road trips every summer, and yet you were going to miss your new mystery friend.

"Oh, Y/N! There you are!"

You and Henry turn around, seeing your two friends running towards you.

"Yeah, we were really worried!"

That causes Henry to stare daggers at them. They were worried? If they were so Goddamned worried about your safety, then they wouldn't have abandoned you.

"Uh, Y/N...who's this?" they both look at the man beside you that was making them feel uncomfortable under his stare.

'Good,' Henry thought.

"Oh, this is just my friend I made who kept me company this whole time," your voice is still cheerful, but you were still trying to guilt them. Henry smirks at that.

"Oh, well, uh...it's-it's getting late. We should start heading home."

Your eyes widen at that and you look down at your watch. It was almost midnight. God, your parents were gonna kill you.

"Yeah, you guys head to the entrance. I'll catch up!" your friends look at the boy besides you. Despite being the same age as them, something about him didn't seem right. They slowly turn around and do as you told them. As you watch them go, you hear a certain someone mutter something behind you.

"Henry."

"What?" you turn to look up at him.

"That's my name," Henry says.

You try the name out and smile. The sound of you saying his name made his chest feel weird.

"You look like a 'Henry'," you quip.

"That a bad thing?" he quirked an eyebrow at you.

"Nope!" you giggle and shake your head. Your demeanor changes and you awkwardly fiddle for something in your back pocket.

"Here," you hand him a small slip of paper.

Henry takes the paper and unravels it, a phone number revealing itself to him.

"Just in case you wanna keep in touch, o-or you know...just letting me know if you're gonna be in town again," you sheepishly state, squeezing the elephant in your arms. You had written your number down when he went off to make his phone call. You felt silly since you didn’t even know his name yet, but you knew you liked him either way.

"I, uh...I think I'll do just that," he smiles at you and puts the paper in his pocket. You smile back.

"I'm gonna hug you. Is that okay?"

Henry laughs, before opening his arms to you. You wrap one of your arms around him and he wraps his arms around your waist. Neither of you want to pull away, knowing that it would mean the end of your night together and who knows how long until you see each other again.

Unfortunately, your friends were waiting for you and he had a mission that you were unaware of. You pull away first.

"Goodbye, Henry," you quickly press a peck to his cheek. He tenses, but then looks at you shyly.

"Y-Yeah...goodbye, Y/N," a shade of pink crosses his face. He then clears his throat before pointing to your plushie. "You take good care of him."

You giggle and nod your head, before turning and walking away from him. Not even five feet away from him, you turn back and wave both your hand and your elephant's arm goodbye. Henry shakes his head and smiles, lifting his hand up to give a small wave of his own.

He stood there, watching your figure get smaller and smaller, until you disappeared into the crowd entirely.

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

The man was killed swiftly in the haunted house of all places. No one suspected a thing, believing that the body was just a prop and the screams just sound effects.

Now Henry was laying down on his bed in the motel room his mother had rented. She was in the bathroom washing his knife and mask.

He could still hear the noises of the crowds cheering, feel the shakiness in his limbs after a thrill ride, taste the candied apple on his tongue, and feel your kiss on his cheek.

Perhaps when he and his mother got into the next town and had to split up again, he would see if that number you gave him was real.

#killer frequency #killer frequency game #killer frequency x reader #killer frequency game x reader #henry barrow #henry barrow x reader #x reader #rita writes

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ultraviolethypno · 3 months

Text

ILITHID/MINDFLAYER ENCOUNTER

CW: EYE STRAIN, SPIRAL

CONTENT OF SCENE, READ BEFORE DROPPING: in the readmore, you will be made to read my words as narration, believing everything i write is happening to you. you will feel a tall, dark, standard-fare DnD ilithid/mindflayer is now in your room. you will be commanded to undress and pledge your fealty to it. it will begin feeling you up with its tentacle hands and kissing you with multiple tongues in its lamprey mouth. this will go on for about 10 minutes, or until you say the word Stop. after that, it will command you to DM me, telling me how much you loved this experience. you will then be commanded to like and reblog the post encouraging everyone to try it, before being taken back up, free of trance, feeling nice and satisfied.

as promised, happy dropping! begin the induction ONLY when you are by yourself in a safe environment. click the readmore when you're sufficiently under to continue!

good, very good! so good of you to want more.

fall deeper, and deeper, back to the trance you love and accept, that loves and accepts you, that guides and controls you...

happy and fuzzy and blank and ready to obey me...

letting my words circle you, guide and control you, letting you feel good and deep and blank all over

you see the spiral as you read my words. they merge, one hiding behind the other, becoming inseparable, one and the same...

letting each sentence hit you like a wave, pulling you into the ocean that is your trance, no fear, no worries, no doubts, no thoughts. deeper, and deeper, and deeper still. all the way down to the bottom, letting your empty head fill with my words, with my spiral, with my control bouncing off every piece of your mind

feeling my words change you, feeling me narrate you, feeling and doing and thinking everything i say you do...

you notice, sitting here, blankly following along to my narration, that something has changed. without looking away from my words, you notice there is something behind you that was not there before. you almost feel this... this wave of presence ebb and flow behind you. it feels like the spiral. it feels like my words. it feels good.

a wordless voice echoes in your mind: stand up. do not turn around.

a wordless voice echoes in your mind: undress.

a wordless voice echoes in your mind: hold still.

a wordless voice echoes in your mind: pledge your loyalty.

the second your pledge leaves your lips, you feel a shockwave of pleasure hit your entire body all at once. you remain upright, still staring, still reading, still obeying.

a wordless voice echoes in your mind: you are mine, now.

tentacles, warm and slimy, come up against your body. they brush up in your sweet spots, the perfect places, it's like they know every inch of you inside and out.

as the presence's mouth comes down just a little bit over your head, your mind is suddenly awash with the feeling of being tongue kissed. dumbstruck, horny, brainwashed, your mouth opens to reciprocate an embrace that is simply not there. tongues dance and entwine, kissing, sucking, tasting. the presence behind feels you up alongside its tentacles. reread this paragraph over and over and feel it stronger and stronger until ten minutes have passed, or until you believe it's become too much to bear. in that case, say the word Stop, and it will do so.

now, the presence guides you back to where you were sitting/lying down, makes you nice and comfortable, and gives you its last commands.

1: reblog and like this post right now. this will spread the word of the illithid and let its influence grow.

2: send the author of this post a single DM telling them just how much you loved this. how much you loved being under its control, how real this felt, how GOOD it being real felt. you will feel a burst of satisfaction and pleasure depending on how long your DM was.

3: yourself relaxing as the ilithid presence fades away, taking you out of trance, freeing you from my control, waking you up completely. you understand that the ilithid enjoyed its time with you, and wishes you well as it leaves.

finally, you are fully awake! feeling good? feeling like yourself? let me know if your waking self enjoyed it just as much as your tranced self with a DM! or not. i'm a tumblr post, not your boss!

pleasure taking you under. have a great day!

#brainwashing #hypnosis #hypnokink #hypnotized #mind control #spiral #flash warning #uv's visuals

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ponyosfrogg · 10 months

Text

INBETWEEN

Summary: You wake up with no memory of who you are. Determined to find the truth and unveiling mysteries, you also test familial bonds.

Pairings (?): This is the first part of Tim Drake x Reader fanfic. Thinking about enemies to lovers dynamic. There will be a lot of mystery, angst, fluff and eventual smut.

Author Note: In this fic they don't have a lot of age gap but since i don't like the specific age mentioned in fics, i won't be saying anything about it. It's the first chapter of a long series. It's a Female wayne! fic. And English is not my first language, my work might have a lot of mistakes, sorry about them in advance. I hope you guys enjoy it, this fic holds a special part in my heart!

Warning: Some of the themes and contents written in this fic might be upsetting for some of the readers, read at your own risk. Some parts have strong language.

Damian paced anxiously in the green room, his mind filled with worry. Although he tried to hide it, his hands were sweaty with fear. His sister was laying unconscious on the white bed, and he felt a pang of guilt knowing that he had failed to protect her once again. He loved his sister more than anything, perhaps even more than himself.

Dick couldn't bear to see Damian's distressed state any longer. He continued to stroke your hair without removing his hand and called out to Damian, "Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be fine." At that point, even his optimistic personality was struggling. The worried child became even more angry at the calm reassurance. "Don't tell me not to worry! She's been unconscious for nearly four hours now, and the fucking person who did this is watching from the corner of the room!" Clenching his teeth, Damian attempted to approach Tim, but Jason blocked his path. "Calm down, kid. He said he didn't do it on purpose. You know better than anyone what happens when we are sparring. "

"It doesn't matter if he didn't do it on purpose! If she doesn't wake up, I'll kill him.." Tim replied nonchalantly. "Feel free to try, devil." Rolling his eyes without an attempt to hide it. These words and this attitude triggered Damian. If there's one thing you need to know about Damian, it's that he is an impatient person. Just as he was preparing to jump on Tim, Dick's firm voice stopped everyone. "She's waking up!"

You opened your eyes with a sharp pain in your head. It felt like a heavy train had passed over your body over and over again. The pain in your head enveloped your neck and entire body. As you attempted to sit up slowly, a few hands pushed you back onto the bed. "It's too early for you to get up." A voice you didn't recognize spoke in a reassuring tone. You struggled to part your lips and asked the question. "Where am I?" You had a thirst which made you feel like you've never drunk any water for your whole life now.

"You're with me." A younger voice spoke and you felt someone holding your hand. The voice felt very familiar yet distant. You fully opened your eyes and saw the faces standing before you. There was a boy (?) or just a young looking man holding your hand and the other guy sitting next to you watched you with smile. When you tried to pull your hand away and move back, your head throbbed with pain and you let a painful whimper leave your lips. "Who are you both?" You sat up more in bed and tried to distance yourself from them as much as possible. The young boy who had held your hand lost his smile because of your reaction.

"I'm Damian, don't you remember me?." As the child approached the bed, you retreated further as if you could merge into the wall. Seeing this, the older looking guy who stood next to you, slightly taller than the others, stopped Damian. "Can you tell us the last thing you remember, sweetheart?" His voice, his gentle manners and probably good-looking face helped calm you down a bit. You tried to think about the last thing you remembered, but your mind felt completely blank. And every time you tried to think, an incredible pain pierced your head. It was as if something didn't want you to remember, as if someone had come and stolen all of your memories.

"I don't remember anything.." You struggled to utter those few words. "Nothing.." The last thing you said seemed more like an attempt to convince yourself. Nothing? You were undeniably completely confused, and there was an immense pain in your head. If there wasn't an open wound, how could it hurt so much? Yet, you still put your hand on your head just to make sure.

Damian's eyebrows furrowed, almost covering his green eyes. He spoke with anger almost spitting out every word, "Did you cause her a fucking memory loss?!" He yelled loudly and lunged at the boy who was slightly taller than him standing at the corner of the room. Suddenly they were literally fighting with each other which caught you off guard. With fear you widened your eyes. The boy, whom you had just noticed, tried to intervene. He had black hair with a white part on the front that rested just above his forehead. He was wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans, giving him a biker-like appearance. The ugly sound of punches hitting the flesh from Damian's strikes made you even more frightened, and the guy standing next to you yelled, "You are scaring her!"

Damian struggled to control his anger and stood up. His knuckles were in great pain, but it was the least of his concerns. As he was about to approach the bed where his dear sister lay, Dick once again stopped him this time with his hand. "Leave the room." His authoritative voice commanded Damian once more, causing his cheeks to flush with anger. "You can't tell me what to do, she is my sister."

Dick took a deep breath and tried to calm down. He had become the fucking babysitter of these kids even though they were almost a grown ass man "She is not just your sister Damian. What you're doing right now is nothing but scaring her."

As Damian's attention came over you again, he easily could see the fear growing in your eyes. It wasn't something he was used to. He had witnessed this look of yours only three times in his life: the night both of your grandfather died when you found his body repeatedly stabbed, a loud thunderstorm when you were six or so, and now. He hated that look because it usually meant something uncontrollable was happening and he didn't like to lose control. He hated that he wasn't able to be there and protect you. He hated every second of it. Under normal circumstances, all he could do was hold you and reassure you that everything would be alright, that he would protect you forever, even though getting physically involved or showing affection to people openly wasn't his style. That was usually enough to calm you down, although it wouldn't stop you from crying. Damian, on the other hand, would just hold you for hours and let you cry in his arms until you felt better. Maybe even for hours, you would allow yourself to cry in his arms. Some of your family members were saying this connection was because you were twins and some of them were saying it was because how you guys only had each other at a certain point but no, that wasn't it. Both if you shared something more than that, a connection. He could feel whenever you were sad, and when you were in pain, it was also his pain. Calling it a twin-bond was nothing enough to explain how he felt about you. You were his family, you were his sister: his beloved sister. He would come to you when he had a problem, he would come to you when he was happy, he would come to you when he was overwhelmed by everything. You were his safe space, just like him being your safe space too. Now was the time you needed him the most, and why couldn't Dick see that? Why didn't he understand that all you needed was for him to hold you and give you hope that everything would heal?

Interrupting his thoughts, Jason's hand found his shoulder. "It's confusing for all of us to have this situation. For now, we should let Dick stay with her and let him understand her condition." Damian didn't want to leave your side, but he understood the underlying truth behind Jason's words. It might be something small, or maybe something big, but whatever it was, Dick needed to talk to you to understand what was going on. Although he wanted this position himself, he knew he was too angry for it at the moment. He was doing this for your sake and your well-being. While still facing Dick, he moved closer to you. "I'll be back soon.." When he was about to kiss your forehead, the lack of love and the frightened expression on your face appeared which prevented him to show any affection. He wouldn't want to do something that could hurt you. He said nothing more and decided to leave the room just for now.

I'm Dick," he said, as his blue eyes narrowed with compassion. You looked at him with empty eyes and asked, "Is it always like this?" He contented himself with a smile in response to what you said. "Yes, don't you remember who you are? Anything at all?" From the question he asked you, you could understand that he was one of the people who struggled the most with the situation you were in you can't help yourself but feel a little bit of guilt again. "No, I'm sorry..." You felt like you were in the middle of nothingness. Nothing meant anything to you, and nothing seemed important. The faces you saw, the arguments you watched, all passed before your eyes like you were watching some kind of movie. But every time you searched your mind, what you found inside your head was a void much greater than the emptiness you felt on your chest.

He smiled at you again and reached out his hand to hold yours. "We should meet again then, I'm Richard Grayson, but you can call me Dick. I'm your big brother," he said. You nodded your head in response to what he said and extended your hand. When your hands disappeared in his large hands, he smiled at you again. His white teeth shimmered like pearls.

You looked at him for a moment. He had a slightly tanned skin. He had navy blue eyes and black hair. His haircut was somewhat long, falling towards his ears and upper parts of his neck. He was wearing a partially tight light blue t-shirt that accentuated the color of his eyes and hinted at his regular exercise routine. "I don't want to confuse your mind too much; family ties can be a bit complicated." As he ran his hand through his nape and shyly took his eyes to check the wall, you couldn't help but smile. "Do you feel better?" You understood that he was referring to your recent panic attack. "Yes."

There was still some hesitancy within you. One part of you was urging you to run away, while the other insisted on staying. You didn't know where you were, who these people were, and staying here didn't seem like an appealing option. Nothing made sense to you, and you felt like a newborn baby, everything feeling foreign and distant, far from a comfortable environment. When he noticed you are drowning in your mind, he approached to comfort you, but you instinctively backed off towards the wall. "I'm sorry... There's no need to be afraid of us. We mean no harm." He distanced himself a bit to help you relax, and the front of his bed was completely open. Slowly, you let your feet dangle off the bed and stand up. Even that simple movement caused your whole body to tremble. The idea of a train passing over you was becoming more appealing every minute; this pain and hurting seemed inexplicable otherwise. Your eyes began to wander around the room.

You were staying in a room where green was dominant. The walls were dark green. The room was illuminated by a dim yellow light coming from a large crystal chandelier. Years ago, you and Damian had changed the room's lighting to yellow, as you had discovered that yellow light was much easier on the eyes compared to white light. However, this information was not in your mind at the moment beside your whole life's memory.

Right next to your bed, there was a large wooden wardrobe. You wrapped your fingers around the handle and opened it. It was filled with clothes, leaving no empty space. Colorful fabric pieces patiently waited to be worn inside the dark brown wooden wardrobe. There were pictures hanging on the wardrobe door. In one of them, you were with the white-haired boy from earlier. It looked like you were playing PlayStation together. You had raised your right fist in a victorious pose, while the boy next to you furrowed his brows. The photo was taken from a distance.

Just below that picture was a selfie with an older looking man. He looked like he was quite nice and kind. You had raised two fingers to make a piece sign this time and smiled broadly. He, on the other hand, displayed a content smile and looked at the camera. "This is Alfred." You hadn't noticed that he had come up behind you while you were looking at the photos. Dick placed his finger on the picture of the boy above. "And this is Jason."

Although you felt the knowing feeling about names, you weren't be able to quite put your finger on it.

The next picture was taken from far. Someone was carrying you on a bridal style and looking at the camera. it seemed like you were trying your best to not to fall from his arms so you were kind of blurry. His green eyes seemed very warm unlike Damian's. You could almost sense it through the picture. He also had lots of freckles which gave him a lot warmer look. There was a note under the photo: 'Toronto'

"This is Bart Allen, he is a close friend of yours." You just nod. You could feel the awkwardness since he was telling about all these stuff, even though they were hanging on the wall in your room. You felt like all these pictures actually should brought something back.

Another picture was also taken from far. You were standing right between two beautiful woman. Although both of them had red hair, one of them had a darker color. the other one just had a red-ish color just like ginger. They were smiling widely while you were laughing, both of them hugging you. Dick put his finger just on a woman with darker hair. "This is Kate" and slide it over the other one. "This is Barbara."

Under that, there was another picture of you this time with Damian. You guys were sitting on a couch and had a cat between two of you. Even though it was a selfie, you could see both of your bodies thanks to camera's angle. Damian was smiling and had a black shirt on him with capital letters 'Uncle Damian' written on it. You were wearing the same shirt that says mother and even the cat also had one. It was so hard to believe that this Damian was the same person you saw earlier. In this picture he seemed so relaxed, happy?

Dick might have read your mind since he started talking: "Yeah, it must be hard for you to believe but just so you know, he loves you a lot that is why he was angry earlier." then he stopped for a minute before starting to talk again: "to be honest he is always angry." there was an awkward laugh after that. There was another picture next to yours and Damian's, it was with Dick.

He was wearing some kind of apron that says 'World's Greatest Grandma' on it. He was holding a pot and you had eggs in your hand, showing them off to your camera.

The inside of the wardrobe was filled with many pictures. Most of them included of Jason, Damian, and Dick, but you didn't continue looking because these pictures were reminders of the large part of your life that you had forgotten. You felt like shit, and still, a small part of you insisted that these things couldn't be true. You felt like a reader who was reading other people's stories. You couldn't tell if you were really in the present moment or if you were just having a simple dream, though, a nightmare would be more true. Everything felt so terrifying. Perhaps it was because of the guilt you placed on the memories you couldn't recall, or maybe it was due to the uneasiness from the fight you had witnessed some moments ago. When you found yourself taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of your nose, as if trying to calm yourself down, you continued shaking your head and looking at the pictures. Dick opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to distract you, again:

" Almost everyone in these pictures are your siblings" he said, and your eyes widened in disbelief. You couldn't contain your astonishment. "Our parents must have worked really hard," slipped out of your mouth involuntarily, and Dick burst into a loud laughter, finding it the funniest thing in the world. After laughing for a few seconds, he composed himself and responded to you. "No, we're all adopted." he said. Then he paused for a moment and continued, "Well, except for Damian and you. You guys are biological siblings, twins to be exact." You nodded your head. Maybe that's why he was so tense. Although you couldn't fully grasp the topic of the fight, you found yourself involuntarily understanding his displayed behavior. Then he pointed his index finger at another picture on the other door of the wardrobe. "This is your mother," he said as he directed your attention to the picture. You saw one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen (you wouldn't remember even if you saw something prettier tho). Her green eyes were as sharp as Damian's. Her brown hair reached her waist, and the leather jacket she wore gave her a completely different aura. Despite her captivating gaze, the underlying danger could be easily sensed. This woman exuded an image of 'I love you, but i have no hesitation about killing you.' As you looked at her, a strange feeling arose within you. Longing? Guilt? No, it was neither of those. It was fear.

You closed the wardrobe door and continued to exploring the room. Similar pictures to the ones in the wardrobe were all over the walls. Then you noticed the bed standing on the right side. Unlike your bed, it was pitch black. Several katanas were hanging on the wall by on his bedside. His wardrobe was at the foot of the bed and, compared to yours, it was smaller and longer. When Dick noticed where you were looking, he felt the need to explain once again. "Damian is a little bit particular about this situation, he didn't want your rooms to be separated." You walked over to his area and looked at a few pictures hanging there. "You really love taking pictures," he said, and you felt a bit odd when he mentioned your characteristic to you, noticing his own awkwardness too as he moved behind you. "You have pictures with almost everyone." As you quickly scanned the walls of the room, you saw more pictures. While you were observing them, Dick's phone rang, and he asked for your permission to leave the room and without waiting for an answer he left.

While you were watching the pictures on the wall, there was a great chaos in the room below. Jason had informed Bruce about the incident and Bruce said he was going to come as soon as he could but since he was on a mission at the space station with Justice League, Jason wasn't seeing this happening anytime close. Meanwhile, Damian had tried to attack Tim seven more times, engaging in powerful fights that turned the entire room into a battlefield. While Jason tried to keep them apart, he was complaining about the situation and wishing he could use his weapons on them. He was too old for this fucking family drama.

"What is your problem!" Jason couldn't hold his anger anymore, tired of this bullshit. He knew how you were important to Damian but you were also important for them. Blood doesn't mean a shit. And fighting with each other? No it wasn't going to solve anything.

"My problem is Tim! He punched her so hard that she lost her fucking memory! Do you know how much power does he need to fucking achieve that Jason!" At this point he was breathing out fire. Yes, being angry was part of his character now but he never felt more angry all of his life. He didn't know if he was angry at Tim or himself or maybe even her sister for forgetting her. Even though he knew it wasn't in her hands to decide whether she was going to forget about him or not, how could she? They were together since they were born, they did everything together and now she wasn't even remembering her. He was angry at Tim for punching so hard, even though he was aware of the fact that you were way stronger than he could see, and even though this kind of mistakes could happen when they were sparring, it still was over using his power. Most importantly: he was angry at himself for letting you getting hurt.

"We were sparring for god's sake! I still have the fucking bruise from sparring with you last time. It's completely normal, stop blaming me!" Tim yelled this time. Jason sat on the couch and sighed.

"It is going to be a fucking long night."

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sunnebeam · 10 months

Text

good for a weekend.

DRABBLE.

pairing: jung hoseok x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (yall know the drill, let's be protected irl), sex against a window, blank space au, chaebol!reader (she has issues), businessman!hoseok, profanity

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: took me a long time to choose the title for this one bc i just realized i already used a blank space lyric for jimin's drabble lol. but anyways here it is! idk the accurate word count but i think this is longer than all my other drabbles so far. enjoy <3 don't forget to share ur thoughts and give feedback ^^

When you were younger, you didn’t really understand why no one wanted to be friends with you.

Apart from your butler Yeonjun (who's paid to put up with your shit but is still genuine in his companionship nonetheless), a paintbrush and a canvas were the only real confidants you had for your pent up frustrations as a child.

Now that you're older, your isolation becomes more self-induced.

"Is it true that she's back together with Kim Taehyung again?”

“No, I heard that her family arranged for her and Park Jimin to marry next year...”

“But wasn't she spotted looking cozy with Jeon Jungkook at a bar last week?”

"No, no, I could've sworn she was hooking up with Min Yoongi—"

"Damn, she's going through men way too fast, don't you think?"

“Honestly, I think she's just a spoiled, rich playgirl."

You sigh, sitting on your chair in the art room of your very own mansion — a gift from your father after he missed out on your eighteenth birthday — while Yeonjun watches you paint your heart out.

“I haven’t seen Kim Seokjin around lately…” he muses as he steps closer to look at your work. By the looks of it, you must be feeling some pretty angry emotions.

“Silly Yeonjun,” you giggle too loudly, hand gripping your brush rather forcefully as you stare at your palette. “Seokjin and I broke up ages ago. Actually, I haven’t seen him since the haircut incident.”

Ah, the haircut incident…

Yeonjun shivers, remembering that outburst all too well. The memory of you hysterically chopping off your hair in a fit of jealousy while Kim Seokjin helplessly tried to get you to stop. That marked the end of your six-month relationship, leaving you with uneven chunks of hair and the man with a questionable restraining order.

Not your best moment, that much you can admit.

“Anyways,” you snicker, shaking your head to clear the onslaught of memories, “let’s not talk about him anymore, ‘kay?”

You stand up, leaving your painting half-finished, and walk over to the big floor-to-ceiling window.

Your mansion is the biggest in the area, filled with numerous rooms and spaces that far surpassed the amount you need for basic living. Your art room – easily the biggest room, even topping your master bedroom – houses a beautiful glass window that overlooks the property.

“Besides,” you say, clapping your hands, “we have more important things to worry about.” You turn to him and squeal, jumping up and down. “My art exhibit is in a couple of months! Can you believe it, Yeonjun?"

Your excitement has you skipping around the room in glee. You’ve been planning your own exhibit for months and now that it's drawing nearer, you feel more excited than nervous. You hope with all your heart that this exhibit could finally paint you in a proper light, letting you shine as 'the young, twenty-something art extraordinaire' instead of the 'resident fuckgirl who's only good for a weekend.'

“I know, sweetie.” Yeonjun smiles, feeling genuinely happy for you. But before he can further share in your excitement, the doorbell rings.

The noise makes you glance at your watch and smirk. Right on time.

Together, you and Yeonjun walk down the massive staircase to greet your guest, and Jung Hoseok hears you before he even catches sight of you — the clicking of your heels resonating loudly across the living room. He turns his head to the sound and smiles handsomely at the both of you.

For a few moments, none of you say a word but the electricity between you and your guest is hard to ignore.

"Shall I leave you to your business?" Yeonjun breaks the silence, directing the question at you. After all, at this point, he already knows the drill whenever you have your guests over.

You nod, never taking your eyes off Hoseok's and your butler immediately excuses himself.

Once it's just the two of you left, Hoseok holds out a hand to you. “Jung Hoseok. Pleasure to meet you."

You tell him your name, placing your hand in his and immediately, he brings it up to gently brush his lips against your knuckles. “Pleasure's all mine, Hoseok."

“Just Hobi is fine, gorgeous."

He winks at you and smiles. And just like all the other times, you feel yourself falling. Spiralling. Obsessing.

“Hobi…” you repeat, “shall we go over the terms of your company's sponsorship for my art exhibit?”

“Of course,” he responds. "Shall we discuss it in your office?"

"Oh no," you feign disappointment.

"What is it?"

“I'm terribly sorry, Hobi,” you utter, “but my office is under renovations at the moment—"

(It isn't.)

"—and I’m afraid it's not convenient for business discussions for the time being.”

“Is that so?” Hoseok muses, his eyes on your lips as you purse them contemplatively. “Should we take our discussion somewhere else, then?” He offers, not wanting to cut his visit short.

He stares right into your pretty eyes and he swears you've performed some sort of magic right then and there because he finds himself right under your spell.

“Good idea." You smile, your hand sliding up to rest on the crook of his elbow as you lead him up your stairs. “I know the perfect place.”

And that's how he found himself in your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your immaculate bed with your head bobbing up and down between his legs.

"Shit," he curses when you take him deeper in your mouth. "Yeah, that's it, gorgeous."

You look up at him with wide eyes, making sure to maintain eye contact when you swallow around him. He bites his lip at the feeling, his thumb reaching out to wipe the stray tears running down your cheek.

You look so pretty. So fucking gorgeous.

Hoseok wonders how the hell he managed to get an invitation to your bed. Sure, he's quite attractive but you're in a whole other league of your own. You're way up there on a pedestal, you and the other chaebols in your wealthy family's circle. Whereas, he's just a mere businessman trying to negotiate a sponsorship proposal.

But, fuck, he's not complaining.

You whine when he pulls you up and onto his lap, your lips releasing his dick with a pop. Feeling needy, you suckle at the soft skin of his neck while he desperately removes your clothes and then his.

"Hobi," you whimper into his neck and the sound goes straight to his already hard cock. "Need you. Please."

"Shit," he groans when you rub your leaking core against his thigh. "Hold on to me."

You comply, wrapping your arms and legs around him, and he stands up to walk the both of you towards your bedroom's clear, glass window. Just like the one in your art room, this one spans wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, and overlooks the front of the mansion.

He sets you down on your feet and turns you around so that you're looking out. Your pussy dribbles even more arousal at the sight of your enormous front gates from the distance, the thought of being seen turning you on.

"Hobi," you whine when you feel his throbbing cock prodding at your entrance, and push your ass out in response.

"Don't hold back, gorgeous," he tells you when you let out a muffled moan. "I want the whole mansion to hear you."

He enters you swiftly, making you groan loudly and press your palms against the window. He pulls back, making you whine desperately and shift your weight on your feet. He slams back inside roughly, making you scream incoherently and fuck yourself back on him.

"That's it," Hoseok groans, "fuck me back."

And you do.

He thrusts into you in rough but deep thrusts. You fuck back into him, arching your back, causing your tits to press against the glass. The added stimulation to your nipples makes you play with your clit, making figure eight motions and heightening your pleasure.

"Shit, gorgeous. You're creaming."

He sees a creamy ring of white on the base of his cock and curses, the sight pushing him closer to his climax. You only whine in response, clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Hobi, I'm gonna—"

"Cum with me, gorgeous," he coaxes you. "Now."

You obey, cumming around him while he finishes inside you. You're breathing heavily, relishing in the warmth of his release and he just chuckles affectionately at your fucked out face.

He pulls out of you and when you lead him back to your bed, he suddenly feels exhausted. His eyes can barely stay open and the last thing he remembers before sleep takes over him is your voice telling him three little words.

When Hoseok wakes up, he sees you all dressed, propped up on the headboard and glaring at him.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?" he asks groggily.

"Who's Sooah?" you ask him immediately, your voice clipped.

"What?"

You show him the unlocked phone in your hand. His phone.

"What the fuck? You went through my phone?"

"She was texting you nonstop. Who is she?"

"She's a colleague, not that I need to explain myself to you. And she's the venue coordinator for your art exhibit!"

"I don't beleve you!"

"How the fuck did you even know my password?"

"Are you cheating on me?" you demand, tears falling down your face.

"Cheating on you?" he repeats your question incredulously. "We literally just met!"

But you aren't listening to him. No, you're spiralling, clutching your hair and looking at him desperately. "Did I do something wrong? Is she prettier than me? Is she—"

"You're insane," he cuts you off, frightened at your sudden behavior. As quickly as he possibly can, he puts on his clothes and scrambles towards your bedroom door. "Fuck this shit, I'm leaving."

To his surprise, you don't follow him, though he can hear your heartbroken wails all the way to the front door. When he gets to his car, his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

"WHAT THE FUCK? YOU WRECKED MY CAR?!" he yells, the question directed at you but his exasperated eyes are trained on his wrecked vehicle.

The punctured tiles, cracked windshield, and dented exterior would cost him a fortune. But he decides that's a problem for another day. Right now, he just has to get out of here.

"Crazy bitch," he mutters when he finally exits your property gates on foot.

Back in your room, you cry your heart out while Yeonjun caresses your hair comfortingly.

Your butler knows the drill by now. You just need one day to cry all your tears, another day to forget about it, and around three more days to move on.

Which is why, a few days later, Yeonjun opens the door to a charming, dimpled face. He leads the man to the living room where you're waiting and leaves you two to your business.

"What's your name?" you ask your guest.

"Kim Namjoon," he replies, taking your hand and kissing it. "Pleasure to meet you, gorgeous."

A heartbeat. Then another.

And then you smile.

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