#i live for making her unsettling.. had this concept in my head for a few years now im so happy w how it came out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jackrrabbit · 4 years

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Spoiled Rotten /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Request: What if Overhaul fucks spoiled rich reader because her dad owes the yakuza money and in exchange Kai takes the daughter as a form of payment using her as his personal stress doll whenever and wherever he wants making her into his perfect little doll

A/N: While I was writing this my roommate asked if I was okay bc cause I kept stopping to fan myself and blush lmaooooo god I’m such a brat. I did change the concept up a bit, hope that’s fine!

This is dedicated not only to the OG requester but also to everyone who read the excerpt I posted a while back and told me they couldn’t wait to see the finished product!! Love you guys ❤️

Tags/warnings: threats, dubcon/coercion, dom/sub, brat taming, degradation, exhibitionism, restraints, mentions of forced prostitution, verbal & physical harassment, kidnapping, kinda breath play?, long

The first thing you notice when you come to are voices. Multiple people talking to each other, speech overlapping in patterns you can’t make out. They’re quiet—not whispering for your sake, but quiet because you’re still half knocked-out and you can barely hear.

The second thing you notice is the pounding in your head and the lingering smell of something sweet spread over your nose and mouth.

The third thing you notice is the fact that when you try to blink your eyes open, your lashes brush against something soft and dark. You’re blindfolded…and gagged, and your hands feel like they’re cuffed behind your back. From what you can sense around you, it seems like you’re hunched in a kneeling position with your cheek flattened against the floor and your bare feet tucked under your backside.

At least you’re still in your nightgown. You can feel the frilly silk of it, a useless barrier between your skin and the cool air, and it reminds you of how you got here in the first place.

A loud noise in the night. Your father’s voice pleading. A heavy thump. The door to your bedroom banging open and a strange man holding you down to your bed…lifting a sweet-smelling rag to your mouth…telling you to “take a deeeeep breath, princess.”

“Hey, I think she’s waking up.”

An invisible hand fists itself in your hair and you whine in pain as your upper body is lifted off the floor. Once you’re properly upright, you hear squeaking, shoes against concrete, and the heat and breath and presence of someone behind you. Something rustles at the back of your head—you’re too scared to move so you stay still—and then the blindfold is being lifted off your face.

Once it’s gone, you have to blink for a moment even despite the low light of the dingy room where you’ve…apparently…been kidnapped. By the freaking yakuza. And for some reason, they’re all wearing bird-beak masks.

You close your eyes, almost wishing they hadn’t taken the blindfold off. You’d prefer to live in blissful ignorance of how decidedly unclean the floor is. How dare they let your face touch it? What happened to honor among thieves?

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Against your will, your eyes flick up to the speaker. He’s the only one sitting, and somehow that gives him a position of power among the others. The leader?

Unsettling golden eyes rest on yours, and you realize he’s waiting for your answer, so you slowly move your head from side to side.

“Didn’t know about daddy’s bad habits, huh?” This time the person speaking is behind you, the one who untied your blindfold, a thin man with lank, greasy blond hair. He’s the one who drugged me, you remember in a surge of panic, and you try to stand up away from him only for him to step on the chain that connects your handcuffs, jerking you back and pinning you—painfully—to the floor.

“Careful, Setsuno. I told you not to leave marks. Let her talk.”

“Got it, boss.” The blond—Setsuno—fumbles at the back of your head and then he’s pulling the gag out of your mouth.

You open and close your mouth a few times to stretch out the stiff muscles. “Oh. My. God. Was that polyester you just took out of my mouth? Do you have any idea how bad synthetics are for sensitive skin? I’m totally going to break out.”

A hush falls over the little room. You could hear a pin drop.

“…Are you complaining about the quality of the fabric we gagged you with?” the leader asks after a second.

“You may be yakuza, but you don’t have to act like savages,” you reply primly, aligning your knees together and sending a proud look off to the side.

“Ohh…little princess deserves better, does she?” Setsuno coos. He edges closer to rub his cheek against yours and laughs when you cringe away from him. “Boss, you shoulda seen her bedroom. All pink and frilly, looked like royalty lived there. Bet they treat you like a real princess at home, huh? No wonder your daddy’s in debt.”

“Daddy isn’t—“

“Your father…took out loans from my gang. My men came last night to collect,” the leader says, drumming his fingers over the armrest of his chair impatiently.

He’s wearing plastic gloves. Why is he wearing plastic gloves? Immediately your mind is spinning, imagining all the different gruesome possibilities of what they’re going to do to you. “That’s ridiculous. My daddy doesn’t need to borrow money—“

“Clearly he does, because it looks like he pissed it all away on his daughter.” The leader’s eyes are cold enough to make you shiver—although maybe that’s just the icy temperature of the floor soaking through your nightgown.

“He had a couple payments overdue, so we stopped by to ask nicely for him to pay up,” Setsuno says, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Didn’t find too many valuables in your house, but then we got our hands on a real treasure.”

“Don’t touch me—“

“You don’t seem to understand the position you’re in,” the leader says. “When I made my contract with your father, he understood that obligations like these are inherited. Since he can’t pay his debt, you’re going to be working it off in his place.”

Working it off? You swallow. Somehow you don’t think he’s talking about your little part-time job as a receptionist at your daddy’s company. “You can’t make me do that.”

“I’m not sure you’re getting the gist, princess,” Setsuno hums. “What we’re gonna do is we’re gonna put you in a room, and then men are gonna give us money, and then we’ll let those men fuck you. All that money’s gonna go toward paying what your daddy borrowed. Sound good?”

For the first time since you can remember, you’re shocked speechless. They’re going to…what? But you’re a quick thinker, and instead of letting these filthy, awful gangters boss you around, you raise your chin haughtily to look directly into the leader’s eyes. “I don’t think so. If Daddy’s the one who got himself in debt, you can make him whore himself out to pay it back. You can’t hold me responsible for something he’s done.”

Another brief silence, and then you hear a whistle echo out from the corner of the room (and you try not to look toward it, reminding yourself that this can only get worse if they know how scared you are). “She’s got a mouth on her, Overhaul,” someone says.

Overhaul. So the leader’s name is Overhaul. How ridiculous; it sounds like a villain’s name.

“Aww, princess,” Setsuno says, and once again his voice is too close for your comfort. “Little spoiled princess doesn’t know how to shut her mouth and suck it up when things don’t go her way? Well…you’ll learn.”

You don’t want to know what he’s talking about, although if you thought about it for more than a second it’d be obvious. You suck in a harsh breath and the cool, damp air stings against your dry throat. “You can’t just make me—“

“Ohh, I think we can. See, if your daddy’s been spending all of the Shie Hassaikai’s money on his precious daughter, don’t you think you owe a little too? Like, this dress—“ you jump as Setsuno’s hand tugs on the thin, floaty silk— “was bought with Overhaul’s money, so it belongs to him, right?”

You keep quiet, not wanting to prompt him to go further, but when his hands stroke up over your waist to grope your breasts in full view of everyone else in the room, you don’t really have to guess.

“And, y’know, your daddy’s been keeping you nice and healthy with Overhaul’s cash, making sure you grow up into such a pretty girl…” Setsuno’s voice is a purr in your ear as his hands squeeze your tits almost lovingly, then pinch your nipples through the fabric. “So hey—if you think about it, this tight little body…belongs to Overhaul too. Isn’t that right, sir?”

You squirm in place as best you can but with the metal cuffs digging into your wrists, there’s nothing you can do to get away from his touch. You’re desperate enough to shoot a terrified glance up at the leader—surely there are rules about treating an innocent girl like this, even for the yakuza—but he looks as unmoved as before. “Get her out of my sight. We’ll give her a rest for the next few days, and then…”

“No!” you yelp, too panicked to keep up the pretense of confidence. “I won’t, I can’t do that, please don’t make me—“

“Shhh. You’ll get used to it, princess. And if you don’t…” Setsuno’s hand combs though your hair and then trails down your neck, tracing the path of your spine between your shoulder blades. “…well, you won’t really have much of a choice, will you?”

And then he’s tugging on your cuffed hands, pulling you to a standing position, but you wriggle away from him and do everything you can to stay planted on the ground so they can’t take you away from here, away from the only man who is capable of stopping this. Overhaul. “Please! I’m— I can work it off another way! I’ll be useful— I’ll—“

Overhaul leans forward a fraction in his chair, and you wonder if you’ve caught his interest. “What, exactly? How do you think you can be useful to me?”

You bite your lip and wrack your brains, not knowing whether the question is rhetorical. What skills do you have that would be valuable to them? Suddenly all the knowledge you’ve gained in your short life seems so meaningless. You’re a decent receptionist (well, decent is a stretch), but if Overhaul wanted someone to answer calls for him you’re pretty sure he would’ve asked.

Why did you spend your life learning such impractical skills? The four-year weekend course you took on horseback riding jumps to mind and you want to hit your head against the wall. Why didn’t you ask your father to sponsor a class in something that would actually matter in the long run? And what would even be useful to these people? Accounting? Bookkeeping? Extortion?

There’s nothing valuable you can offer. You’ve wasted your life, and now you’re going to pay for it. Seriously, the only thing you’re actually good at is keeping your boyfriends (or, rather, the men you cycle through once a month) happy until the novelty wears off and you get bored and move on to the next lovesick target—

—wait. Keeping your boyfriends happy. That’s a skill, isn’t it?

Once, a little bit after you turned eighteen, you’d had a rather illicit conversation with one of your more sexually adventurous friends about being a sugar baby. Your friend had just secured a very generous benefactor, and you’d been so intrigued by all the designer purses and vacations to Cabo that you’d almost considered trying it for yourself. She’d even helped you set up a profile on Seeking Arrangements that listed your physical features and interests, but you’d blanched when it came time to post photos.

“But why do men even like this?” you'd asked your friend after your picture-less profile received its dozenth unsolicited offer. “Rich, successful guys shouldn’t have so much trouble finding girlfriends that they have to resort to paying for sex.”

“It’s a power trip,” she’d replied. “Most men never get the chance to have a woman who’s willing to do and be whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. You’re his ideal girlfriend, his therapist, his wife, and his stress relief all in one.”

At the time, you’d decided against it, deleting your profile and telling your friend you’d rather just keep taking advantage of your real father doting on you than have to fake orgasms for rich men in their 50’s. But back then, you’d had a choice; now that you’ve been kidnapped by a gang who wants you to get fucked by a bevy of strangers to pay off a debt you’ve never even heard of, you no longer have the privilege of a way out. Or, at least, the options are a lot less appealing than before.

You tilt your head back to Overhaul, eyeing him for the first time with real scrutiny instead of prideful disgust. Judging from what you can see of his face under the ornate bird mask (and again, what is with the freaking bird masks?), he’s fairly young, mid-twenties at the oldest. Short, sort of wavy dark hair (you’ve always had a thing for dark hair), a trim suit and tie, and those eyes. Like he can read your mind just looking at you.

He’s…handsome enough, you have to admit to yourself. But it’s not just that. There’s something pristine about him, something untouchable that commands discipline. He’s clean. You and him are probably the only clean things in this hovel of a room.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Overhaul says.

And now that you’ve got the idea in your head, it’s almost too embarrassing to meet his gaze. But you can do this; you have to do this. At least it’ll be your choice, and—you’re hoping—it’ll be better than the alternative.

“I could be yours,” you tell him, taking pride in the fact that your voice isn’t breaking.

His eyes narrow and you think god, his eyelashes are long. It’s not fair. Men never appreciate having long eyelashes. What is he thinking? Is he going to kill you for even suggesting it? But it’s too late now…you have to dig yourself a little deeper if you don’t want to go through with their original plan for debt fulfillment.

You force your muscles to relax, knowing this’ll be impossible to pull off if you’re tense and biting down on the words like they’re going to choke you. If you’re going to make him believe it, you have to make yourself believe it too. “You… This job must be hard. Even for a—a powerful man like you, it has to be stressful, right? Always looking out for the interests of the gang instead of your own…needs.”

Overhaul doesn’t move, but you’re so focused on him it would be impossible for you to miss the way a single muscle in his neck flexes. You’ve hit a nerve.

You take a cautious step toward him, trying to channel the sexually-liberated vixen you consider yourself when you’re not in your nightgown surrounded by men who could murder you with their bare hands and not miss a minute of sleep. “You’re always giving, aren’t you? Looking toward the future of the gang? Doesn’t it get frustrating when—when a pretty thing is in front of you and you don’t even get…a little taste of her?”

Oh god, you can feel the humiliated heat rushing to your cheeks. How can you be saying this? You’ve played the role of seductress plenty of times before, but never in such a risky situation. You just have to keep moving toward him and hope it feels authentic enough to convince him.

“You’ve worked hard. And…like he said, my—my body belongs to you.” Now you’re close enough to Overhaul and he hasn’t stopped you, so you lower yourself onto the floor, knees bumping softly into the cold surface. Kneeling between his legs.

Overhaul stares down at you, gaze as sharp and cold as before—and you’re sick with anxiety, so scared you can feel your hairs raising up on end—but if he wanted you to stop, he would have said something, right? So you shuffle a little closer and nuzzle your cheek over the inside of his clothed thigh like a kitten, then raise your head up to him to give him your best bedroom look, the one that says, I want you. I need you. No one but you. The look no man has ever been able to resist.

“…You deserve something to yourself, sir,” you murmur.

There’s a collective intake of breath as every person in the room simultaneously realizes what you’re offering. Overhaul’s expression doesn’t change, but once again, a tendon jumps out white under the skin of his throat and there’s a creak of latex on leather as his grip on the arm of the chair tightens.

“Damn,” Setsuno says under his breath from behind you. Someone whistles. You’re pretty sure you hear the word ‘slut’ being tossed around, but there’s reverence behind it.

“And what makes you think you’re so valuable?” Overhaul asks.

You close your eyes to ground yourself for a second. He’s interested, you know that much. You’ve never really had to convince someone to want you, but there’s a first time for everything. Besides, you only have to look at him for a second to know he does want you, which isn’t a surprise. Who wouldn’t?

“I’ll do anything you want, be anything you want,” you tell him, echoing your conversation with your friend back then. “Take out your anger on me if that’s what you’re into. When you’re tired of me, you can consider my debt paid and let me go.”

“And?” he prompts.

‘And’? And what? You’re offering yourself to him, your body and your mind—what more can he possibly ask from you? You cast your thoughts around, wondering what else you have to give him. “And…and I’ll do it willingly. You, um—you look like a man who appreciates obedience.”

And that’s it. Your last shred of pride is gone. Not only are you offering yourself up to a man to use as his personal stress doll, you’re saying you’ll be compliant every step of the way. Knowing yourself, you’re pretty sure that’s impossible, but you just need to make him believe it long enough for you to find a way out of here. You can pretend to enjoy getting fucked by a gangster a few times. You’ll live.

But you’re naive. And with the stream of thoughts pushing through your head, you never really consider one thing, one essential thing: how you look pleading up at him in that pale pink nightdress—soft, pure, immaculate against the filth of the underworld, the only clean body that Overhaul’s seen in a long time.

And you’re right. He is a man who appreciates obedience.

“Willingly…so you’d be willing to prove it.”

Your head jerks up and down in response. Yes! He’s taking the bait, now I just have to get him alone and—

“Then demonstrate.”

When a moment passes and you don’t move, Overhaul tips his head to the side, gaze still locked on you, and gestures vaguely at his lap. You blink and then shy back, shrinking under the hungry gazes of the onlookers. “You can’t mean—in front of them?”

“And here I thought you were going to be obedient.” There’s no mercy, no amusement in his voice. No hint of humanity.

So he’s serious. He wants you to give him a blowjob in front of—how many? one, two three, four—four other men!? Your first instinct is to jump back away from him and your next is to slap him for even suggesting it; you can actually hear the jingle of your cuffs as you attempt to raise your hand. You’ve gotten a little kinky before—blindfolds, vibrators, maybe a hand tied to the bedpost with a Hermès scarf once or twice, but this is a whole different level. And the way they’re all looking at you…like they’re itching to see you brought down. How absolutely disgusting.

But Overhaul’s waiting for your answer, and you know full well that you’re not going to deny him.

“O-Of course.” You lean forward over the seat of the chair so your face is just inches from his lap. “Um. My hands...?”

They’re still cuffed behind you, but it seems like they’re going to stay that way when Overhaul gives a curt shake of his head. “Use your mouth.”

Once again, you’re stunned into silence. How are you supposed to—? Without your hands? It doesn’t even seem like he’s going to undo his pants for you. It’s like he wants to humiliate you…oh, wait. As soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s clear that’s exactly what he’s trying to do.

You give him another doe-eyed glance, bidding him to at least undo his belt, but he remains unmoved. Bastard.

After aiming another glare at him (because as obedient as you’re attempting to be, you’ve never been good at concealing your emotions) you lean deeper in and take the stiff leather of his belt between your teeth, gently easing it out of the buckle and trying to ignore the mixture of earthy and metallic tastes it leaves on your tongue. It takes a few tries, but eventually you’ve got the tail of the belt out of the buckle and you pull your head back to guide the metal down until the belt is hanging open from its loops.

A rush of accomplishment surges through you when you get it open, and then you want to slap yourself. Accomplishment? From doing this with your mouth like an animal—like a dog? You can hear laughter and mocking encouragement from the men watching, but you steel yourself and dip back in to get Overhaul’s pants undone. The button is tricky, especially with your face nudging into the hard muscle of his abdomen through his shirt, but somehow you manage to tug the fabric slit over the button and then—delicately, delicately—clamp the zipper between your teeth and peel it downward.

“Oh, she’s good,” someone says from the background. Setsuno. You look up warily, but Overhaul’s eyes haven’t moved from you.

Now that you’ve got his pants open, you’re face to face (literally) with what you’re going to have to deal with. The outline of his cock is bulging the fabric of his boxers outward, and he’s not even half erect. You snatch a look back up at him—and damn it, you have to stop doing that, because every time you look into those golden eyes and that stupid bird mask you feel like a lamb looking at a bird of prey right before it snatches you from your safe little lamb-house in the meadow and—fuck, you just have to get on with it.

So you dip down and mouth over him through the fabric, spreading the flat of your tongue over the length of his thick cock. Your mouth feels like you’ve been eating cotton (probably because they drugged you earlier) but you force yourself to salivate, letting drool spill over your tongue and dampen his boxers. When you duck and spread your lips down on the place you can feel the tip stretching out, you know the friction must feel good, because despite the lack of even so much of a deep breath from the man above you, his cock is getting harder.

You nudge your mouth over the tent between Overhaul’s legs again, letting the heat of your breath wash over him—but when he doesn’t do anything, you pull back and blink up at his face. Does he expect you to get him off through his underwear? You could, but most of your moves depend on skin-to-skin contact. There’s no way you can get his cock out with your mouth like you undid his pants, so…what? “Are—are you going to take it out?”

Overhaul brings a gloved hand to his face to rub absently at one of the straps on his mask. “…Beg,” he tells you.

Your mouth drops open and you reel back from his lap like he asked you to lick the dirt off the floor. What!? He can’t seriously expect you to—to beg him to put his dick in your mouth when you’re clearly disgusted at the whole situation. When he doesn’t give any indication of retracting the statement, you can’t help the mocking sneer that forms over your face. “Please, sir,” you spit, and a deaf man could hear the spite in your voice.

Now, that gets a reaction. Overhaul’s eyes flash and you take a certain degree of pride back at the anger you’ve clearly inspired in him. But it’s extinguished as soon as you see it, and then he’s reaching down to cup your chin, tilting your head back and rubbing his thumb over your lower lip.

“I think you can do better than that, princess,” he says, and you can hear your own mocking tone reflected back in his voice. “Unless you’d like me to give my men a turn?”

This, more than anything, scares you. He must be able to feel the way your spine goes stiff, adrenaline rushing, your fight-or-flight instinct kicking in at the prospect of what he’s threatening.

“Each of them, one by one. Between the four of them, I think they could cure that smart mouth…although they might just break you in the process,” he continues, and then his thumb is pressing into your lip, into your mouth, and you loosen your jaw to let him in. You can taste the rubbery latex of his gloves and the other men mutter agreement, encouraging their leader to turn you over to them, and you want to cry.

But you hold the tears back. “Please, sir! Please, please may I s-suck your cock sir? Please!” Your voice is more terrified than obedient, but that’s probably what he’s into anyway. When he doesn’t say anything, you babble on, unwilling to let yourself get gangbanged by a group of men who could probably wreck your pussy in a single round. “Please, please, Mr.—Mr. Overhaul, um, boss? M-Master?”

“Sir will do just fine,” Overhaul says, apparently satisfied, and he pulls his hand away from your face to free his cock from his boxers.

You let out a hot sigh of relief and angle yourself back toward his lap so you can zero in on his cock (and, hopefully, do a little to block out how sickeningly degrading all of this is: how easy it is for him to threaten you; how he has all the power and you have none; how the men around you are goading you, taunting you and calling you things that should get their mouths washed out with soap). You can focus on this, and this, at least, you’re good at. You’ve always been good with your mouth.

It’s a nice dick, too, you have to admit to yourself as you stare at it. Perfect length, girth, and a thick, cut head that you know just by looking that you’re going to have to stretch your jaw to get around. All his hair is neatly trimmed and groomed, and he even smells good, clean and fresh like soap. You’ve never been in front of a dick that didn’t smell like day-old ball sweat, so this is a first. It’s got a nice upward curve, too, and there’s a bead of pearly precum oozing out of the tip. The kind of cock that’s made for penetrative orgasms—

No. Fuck. You cannot be thinking this. You cannot allow yourself to lust after a gang leader who thinks of you as little more than an interactive sex doll. A tingle of blood rushes to your cheeks as you feel wetness pool in your panties and you adjust your stance, shuffling your thighs apart under the pretense of getting closer and hoping Overhaul doesn’t notice.

If he notices, he does the merciful thing and keeps quiet (which makes you think he has no idea you’re feeling the way you’re feeling, because he’s probably never chosen to do the merciful thing in his life). He does, however, shift one of his knees farther apart to accommodate you as you crawl close enough to him to get your head all the way between his legs.

So now you’re staring up at that unfairly pretty cock and wondering how the fuck this is supposed to start, but—best just get on with it. Pretend it’s not him, pretend it’s…no, wait, pretend it is him, it is Overhaul, the same bastard who’s looking down at you like you’re trash, except pretend you’re in control. Because no matter how many orders he gives, once you’ve got his cock in his mouth he’ll have to be the weak one. Right?

Lightly, slowly, you trace the tip of your tongue in a wet path up the underside of his cock, sliding up from the hilt to caress every bulging vein with all the delicacy and accuracy of a surgeon. When you reach the tip, you flatten your tongue to curve it around that bulbous head and then slip it off, the suction providing a wet smacking sound as your skin leaves his.

The breath of his barely-heavier exhale ruffles your hair and you relish the knowledge that he’s getting impatient. Yes. The bastard can wait.

You kiss the tip of his cock, barely moving your lips around the slit, only enough to let your tongue flick out against the precum and gather the bitter liquid up in your mouth. And then—right when he’s getting annoyed, when you can tell by the tension in his body that he’s five seconds away from shoving your head down to fuck your face—you duck closer, relax your throat, and swallow.

Like a fucking python. Or so you’ve been told.

The exhale that escapes him isn’t light this time. You can almost hear the barest hint of a groan under his breath, but you’re more focused on holding down your gag reflex as you let that heavy cock hit the back of your throat. Once he’s all the way down (or at least as far as you can get him), you rock yourself back an inch and then take him deeper, forcing yourself to hold still so he can feel the walls of your throat convulse around him, sucking him in, dry-gagging on the mass that’s filling you up.

“Fuuuuck,” you hear someone whine, and it’s not even Overhaul. It’s one of the men watching, and you feel a perverse mixture of hatred and arrogance rise up in you.

Overhaul’s cock is too big for you to properly moan around it, but you give it a go anyway so he can feel the vibration of your voice through his skin. You’re rewarded with a tangible twitch with it sitting on your tongue, and—oh—your mouth is watering out of where you’re clenching down on him at the back of your throat.

Spittle slips out over your lower lip and onto your chin, but you ignore it in favor of jerking your head up and down in fractional strokes, trying your absolute best to get yourself down to his base but knowing that he probably doesn’t give a shit anyway, not with how good your throat feels around what you’re capable of stuffing in.

What were you saying about ‘valuable’, sir? you think, and then you pull your head off his cock, so slow it’s almost cruel, sucking your cheeks in and hollowing out so those wet walls are rubbing up on every millimeter of his skin. When you reach the tip, you savor it, letting your tongue do the dirty work and looking up at him through your lash extensions before you release him with a nasty wet pop.

“Holy fuck, can I have her next?” one of the other men says, but you and Overhaul are too focused on each other to even look and see who’s talking.

His gaze is trained firmly down at you, and—no way, damn it—he looks bored, like he could be waiting in line at the DMV instead of getting sucked off by you, a girl who’s been complimented by every man she’s ever been with (including her first) on her bj technique. You know he’s feeling it—he can fake calm, but he can’t fake the way his cock’s throbbing under your tongue as you lick up the shaft. Still, now that you’ve got it in your head that Overhaul’s not going to make a sound, all you can think about is forcing him to moan. Let him look weak in front of all his little lackeys.

With renewed vigor, you lap up the length of Overhaul’s cock in sloppy dabs, leaving strings of saliva dripping off your mouth and his cock only to slurp them up, audibly, wiggling your tongue over the tip when you reach it. And that, that gets him, because you feel more than see the buck of his hips into your face as he hisses out a curse.

And—oh dear, maybe you shouldn’t have done that—because the next thing you feel is Overhaul looming forward over you, hand gripping the back of your head, and is he going to force you down? You hate that—so you take the initiative, tilting forward to take him into your mouth again, head bobbing up and down so quickly that your hair is falling all over your face, but it’s okay, because he’s got you, he’s got you, got his hands combed through your hair holding it out of your face, pulling so lightly it barely even hurts, but it does hurt, and he’s guiding you up and down on his cock and it’s hitting the back of your throat every time, and—and it hurts.

You really shouldn’t have done that.

“Take it deeper,” Overhaul instructs, almost encouraging, although you’re not given the option to pull off because he’s holding you down, pushing you firmly toward the base of his cock. You sputter around it, gagging, and you’re almost fucking choking, and he won’t let you up.

God, you’re not—not breathing, you can feel your throat choking down on him—“breathe through your nose,” he says, and this man, this villain has no idea what he’s fucking talking about, because you’re trying, eyes stinging and then you can feel tears down your cheeks. You try to squirm back on your knees, but somehow the combined force of every muscle in your body is outmatched by his single hand on the back of your head—and—and—you squeeze your eyes shut, relax, open your throat as much as you can and—

Overhaul forces your mouth down to the hilt.

Fuck, is he going to keep you there? You can’t, you can’t—if you could move, you’d be shaking your head and begging him to let you stop and as it is you’re whimpering around his cock. Your throat is making gagging noises and you’re crying, actually crying, actually fucking crying on a man’s dick. So this is what it feels like to be used?

“Good.” There’s something lower and darker in Overhaul’s voice, a husky undertone from the growl he’s trying to suppress. “Hold still…remember, you asked for this.”

You did. You asked for it. Begged for it. Pleaded.

“Want me to forgive your father’s debt…? You’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls out an inch just to ram himself back in. You make a weak attempt to move your tongue around his shaft and you can feel the shudder all the way through him, his cock twitching where it’s locked in your throat. “Mm…good girl. Just a little—little longer—“

His fingers are tightening in your hair, curling around the strands and tugging instead of just applying pressure to your head. He’s close, you think, and then you struggle back, not wanting him to cum down your throat, what if you choke on it? Like, really choke? You don’t want it, don’t want his cum in your stomach, but then he sighs and tells you again that you’re a good girl, and ohfuckohfuck you must be so scared you’re desperate for praise because you feel heat rush into your cheeks and your cunt when he says it and you try to move your tongue like you did earlier and his hips jerk forward and—he cums. In your mouth.

It’s salty, you think. The next thing you think is that you want to gag, because you’ve never had cum in your mouth before. For all your sexual experimentation, you’ve never let a man cum down your throat like this, always telling them it shoot it on your tits or whatever because you are not a person who should have semen in her mouth, much less ingest it.

But right now, with Overhaul lazily dragging your head up and down for a last couple pumps on his softening dick, your choice isn’t spit or swallow. It’s swallow or choke.

Hot. Thick. The texture is slimy, so viscous you can feel it going down your throat in strings. Part of you wants to throw up. It’s repulsive. Filthy. You hate this.

Part of you has to shift your position again so you don’t have to feel your own wetness slicking up the insides of your thighs.

How. Is. This. Possible. You may have just had to swallow your pride (and not just that), but what about your dignity? You’re a good person…okay, well, even if you’re not a ‘good person’ per se, you don’t hurt anyone with your selfishness. You don’t deserve to be kept as a pet by a sadistic bastard who gets off on watching you almost pass out on his cock, and you certainly don’t deserve the humiliation of finding that you’re turned on by it.

And yet. Here you are. Still held securely in place until Overhaul slides you off him. As soon as your mouth is free you suck in a dizzyingly deep breath, but even that is too much for your battered throat and the breath turns into a cough; you instinctively fold down away from Overhaul so the mixed saliva and cum you’re hacking out spatters in cloudy white flecks across the floor instead of on his clothing.

“Stop that,” Overhaul scolds, hauling you back up by your hair and forcing your mouth closed with a hand on your jaw. “If you make a mess, you’ll be cleaning it up.”

Considering what he just made you do to him, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s implying you’ll have to lick it off the floor. You clench your jaw, holding back the convulsions of your throat as best you can, and hope he doesn’t press the issue.

Now that you’ve got your coughing under control, you can start to sense things that you had been tuning out before: the men hooting and wolf-whistling and applauding your performance, the traitorously persistent throb of your clit pulsing under your panties, and Overhaul’s hand releasing your chin to pet down your neck. “Now. What do you say when someone gives you a meal?”

Just you wait, bastard. I’m going to tie you to your bed and set fire to it. But you’ve got the sense that that answer won’t go over well, so you take a deep breath and look up at him again, meeting those piercing gold eyes with your own. “Thank you, sir,” you say in a soft whisper because it’s all your abused throat can manage.

“That’s right.” His hands feel colder than the concrete under your legs as he spreads his hand down your neck, only to toy with one of the lacy pink straps of your nightdress. “Stand up.”

You stand shakily, too cowed to even consider stepping back from him. Without warning (much less permission), Overhaul lifts the hem of your stupidly short dress up past your thighs, exposing your panties and lower belly to view.

“Hold this in your mouth,” he says, and after only a few seconds of hesitation you open up and bite down on the fabric so you’re effectively holding up the skirt for him. Overhaul skims gloved hands down the sides of your hips and comes to a rest when he reaches your panties—and why did you have to wear these today? Shiny red satin in the front; the back is just flowers worked in crimson lace. You know exactly how good you look in these panties, and judging by the things Overhaul’s men are saying, they’re more than appreciative of the view.

But Overhaul ignores them in favor of hooking his fingers under the elastic and pulling the panties down until they’re resting stretched between your upper thighs. You don’t have to see them to know there’s a string of slick connecting the lips of your cunt to the fabric, betraying in full technicolor detail how turned on you’ve gotten just from sucking him off. He gazes down at your pussy and then up to you as if waiting for you to admit it, but you stay silent.

“Well, well. What a nicely-trained slut I’ve found myself.” He gracelessly pulls the panties the rest of the way down your legs and lets them fall to the ground. “Do you always get this wet when you let your boyfriends fuck that smart mouth?”

It takes you a second to comprehend that he’s expecting an answer. “N-No, sir,” you reply, voice muffled by the fabric you’re still holding between your teeth.

“I suppose I can’t leave you like this, not after you took me so nicely.”

Does he mean he’s going to get you off? No freaking way. You drop the hem of your dress, let it flutter down over your thighs, try to scramble back, but his hand on your waist keeps you from moving. “I— It’s okay, I don’t need—“

“No, I think you do. I think I’m going to reward my pet for a job well done.” He leans back, eyeing you without sympathy. “I’d have you touch yourself, but—“

The mere possibility that he might remove the handcuffs has you straining against them again, and the sound of metal against metal rings out from behind you.

“—but, I think it’s best to keep the cuffs on for a few days…until you’ve settled down.”

Days? He can’t leave you in chains for days, helpless and powerless, so easy to take advantage of. “You can’t,” you whimper, and even though you mean for it to be a decisive statement, with your throat ravaged and hoarse it’s downright pathetic. Overhaul doesn’t even bother reprimanding you for talking back.

“My men have been patient,” he muses, and an enthusiastic wave of agreement wells up from the others. “Any of them would be happy to do it.”

You may have been through a lot in the past hour alone, but there is no way you’re going to let those rowdy criminals have their way with you. You send a nervous glance around the room and as predicted, not a single one of them looks like they have the slightest shred of control over themselves.

None of them…except Overhaul.

Still eased back in his chair, he looks just as relaxed and unaffected as he did when he was explaining your father’s debts to you. But there’s something flickering in his eyes, something he isn’t going to say to you, isn’t going to say out loud. A challenge.

Maybe, once again, he’s waiting for you to ask for it yourself. And if it’s a choice between him and one of the grimy ruffians who’ve been looking at you like dogs look at meat, you know what you’d prefer. Well—really, you’d prefer option C: none of the above (your current state might be uncomfortable, but you’re not so wanton that you’d rather cum in front of strangers than keep your legs together). Unfortunately, you’re starting to come to terms with the fact that ‘no’ is no longer an option.

Overhaul’s stare flicks from you to an unseen figure behind you, and you can tell he’s about to summon one of them over so you force yourself to move, lurching forward and climbing into his lap to straddle one of his thighs with all the grace you’re capable of. You feel the stir in the air when he inhales sharply, surprised, and his masked face is so close to your neck that you wonder if he can smell the lotion you put on before you went to bed last night.

It’s one of your favorite scents: vanilla, lilac, orange blossoms. You bought it because it smelled pure.

“Please, sir, I don’t want them,” you breathe next to his ear, injecting every ounce of sexual frustration you’re feeling into the needy tones of your voice. “I’m yours. I belong to you, just you. No one else—please, sir…Overhaul.”

He’s quiet for a long, tense moment, and you think he’s going to hit you, or maybe even kill you for your disobedience. Push you off his lap at least. But just when you’re teetering on the edge of jumping back from him and begging for forgiveness for talking out of turn, you feel it—a low rumble of laughter from deep in his chest.

Big, cold hands wrap around the sides of your ribcage under your breasts and his fingernails dig into you through the layers of latex and fabric. He tilts forward, forcing you to arch away and all you can think about is how horribly weak you are compared to him. Are you trembling? Will he be angry if you feels how afraid you are?

“You know, I guess I’ll keep you after all,” he hums, stroking his fingers through your hair and down your neck. “How does that sound, princess? I think you’d like that very much, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” The response comes all too easily, even if the words taste bitter in your mouth. You’ve never said the word ‘sir’ so much in your life…but as he repositions you on his lap and slides a single hand up the inside of your thigh under your dress, you bite your lip and decide to hold back your protest.

If you’re going to have to learn manners, you’d better do it sooner rather than later. Something tells you Overhaul’s not going to accept any less than your best behavior if you want to pay off your debt.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia imagines #mha x reader #mha imagines #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero fanfic #smut #tw dubcon

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celestialarchon · 3 years

Text

The Celestial Archon

Genshin Impact x f!Reader

Prologue: Dreamy Origins

Eight archons made it out of the war. One of which, had claimed no physical territory but insisted she would live among the stars and in the dreams of Teyvat’s people. Her eyes shined as she congratulated each archon on their new purpose. Each and every god thanked her for her kindness and hard work as well as reassured her she had a safe haven in their decided territories.

Morax and Barbatos sat with the starry eyed goddess, indulging in wine. Barbatos snickered at the spell she had put on the geo archon. His eyes never left her as she rambled on. Rex Lapis was infatuated, from the way her feet never seemed to touch the ground to the flutter of her eyelashes as she grew tipsy, he was fascinated. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one enchanted by her. The onlooking adepti also found themselves pulled in by her, most of all Xiao and Ganyu.

“Ah, Lady of the Stars,” Barbatos started, smirking “I wonder if you’ll settle down now. You’ve been wandering since before the war and even now you haven’t claimed any land. Do tell, has a certain archon caught your eye? Do you plan on staying in their land?”

The woman peered at the anemo archon curiously, “I’m sorry but I don’t quite understand what you mean?”

“He’s attempting to ask if you plan on taking a lover, dear.” The lord of geo sipped on his drink, averting the eyes of the woman before him.

The eighth archons laugh was light, “It is nothing like that. I simply haven’t found my home yet. I’m not sure if I ever will, sorry to disappoint you, dear anemo god. My heart just longs for something I can’t seem to find.”

She spoke directly to the two gods, but her eyes seemed to be elsewhere. Barbatos felt his chest tighten at the sight of her melancholy eyes. He wondered if the reason the otherworldly archon always smiled was to cover up that feeling. Morax noticed her expression as well, a heavy feeling of sadness and disappointment settled over him but he wasn’t sure why.

The wind archon and geo archon continued to talk, trying to fill the sudden silence. Xiao approached the three, quietly. Sensing his presence, the space case archon looked up at him. The yaksha simply held his hand out to her, without hesitation the formerly bubbly goddess took his hand.

Xiao led her a good distance from the two male gods. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable at all. He’d always appreciated that about her, how she could sit with him and not intrude on his peace.

“Do you remember before the war when you hated those two? You were always mocking them, mocking all the gods.” Xiao broke the silence, sitting on the edge of a cliff.

“Yeah,” She sank down next to him, “I really hated the gods. I thought they were all selfish and cruel. Sometimes I still feel that way I think.”

Xiao sighed, “It must be hard to hold all that self hatred and bitterness inside you. I thought you had moved passed it, although it seems you’ve just been feigning it this entire time.”

The goddess turned to him, her eyes darkening and narrowing at him, “Adeptus Xiao, know your place.”

“I do, and it’s not under you. I serve Morax, not you. It doesn’t make a difference if you hate me for it, I merely wish you to see yourself how I see you and how the other archons see you.”

The young woman was shocked by his sharp tongue, she turned to avoid his piercing gaze. Her heart felt heavy, knowing he spoke earnestly. She jumped as his hand grazed hers, taken back by the sudden affection. Relaxing, she allowed his fingers to intertwine with hers. It was quiet, all the two could hear was their own quick heartbeats.

From afar, the other Adepti observed. Ganyu felt a bit upset that she wasn’t comforting the grief stricken goddess as well. They stood, gossiping among themselves as the two stood and made their way back to the Archons. Xiao removed his hand from the last archon’s, a light blush dusted his cheeks under the moonlight.

Morax and Barbatos were still in deep discussion when they arrived. The archons immediately stopped seeing the two approaching them, Barbatos examined the geo archon’s scowl. Jealousy radiated off of him so heavily it was almost scary. The anemo archon stood abruptly and flung himself into the arms of the celestial archon, pretending to be far drunker than he was.

Both of the lovesick men had to refrain from yanking the anemo archon off of her and tearing him to shreds. The eighth archon was completely oblivious to the tension, consoling the drunken Barbatos. Cloud Retainer chuckled at the sight before her.

“We should be careful of that one, she might start another war,” Madam Ping huffed.

As the sun began to rise, the mysterious goddess excused herself. She insisted she had to go, promising she’d return for another drink soon. Liyue and Mondstat’s war heroes bid her goodbye. Only later would they wish they would’ve stopped her. After centuries without her mischievous smile and bright eyes, those who saw her last goodbye came to regret not pulling her back to them. Without leaving a single trace of herself, the Celestial Archon vanished.

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Mona was abnormally anxious, clearly unsettled. The stars were shifting and in a massive way. Something big was coming and it was giving her a headache. Anxiety and excitement coursed through her veins. Very few people knew of the existence of the eighth archon, as an astrologist she was incredibly invested in the history of the Archon of the Sky.

“When a storm of stars comes to pass,” Mona whispered to herself, “The Celestial Archon will make their return.”

She stood and quickly went to Jean. A meeting needed to be called between Mondstat and Liyue. Both archons were well acquainted with the spacial god, and only those in Liyue and Mondstat could be trusted.

At the mention of the celestial archon, both parties came to meet with grace and speed. It was tense as Mona escorted the beloved traveler to the wide room that sat between the two countries. The astrologist bowed in respect to the two Archons, seated above the others. She recounted her findings and sat back as those around her began to discuss the matter at hand. She began to space out, mind fuzzy and filled only with thoughts of the missing archon.

“We’ll protect the Celestial Archon!” Aether’s exclamation brought Mona back to reality.

“A storm of stars,” Zhongli mumbled, hands flying to his head as he tried to comprehend the information thrown at him.

“I wonder what it could mean,” Venti’s eyes twinkled.

The room was buzzing at the mere concept of an eighth archon. Lisa had taken notes and began to share them with Jean and the wise Ningguang. Theories and plans began to fly, preparations needed to be made. Celestial powers had been long forgotten but were about to make their return.

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Aether and Paimon had been busy. Preparing for the Celestial Archon was even more tedious than festival preparations and activities. Finally, after a month of laying groundwork, the outlander and his companion were free to rest. The blonde giggled at the chubby flying toddler stuffing her face. She was exhausted and cranky after making the trek from Liyue to Mondstat. Her chubby hands angrily snatched another snack from the boy, she scowled at him as she chewed.

Aether sighed and glanced up at the midnight sky. The cliffs no longer blocked the moonlight and clear stars. Paimon glanced up, letting out excited oohs and ahs. A gasp escaped the teenager’s mouth as a star shot across the sky, he clasped his hands together and made a wish. He closed his eyes briefly.

He willed it with all his heart to see Lumine once again. Paimon suddenly shrieked and Aether immediately opened his eyes and pulled his sword out. The fairy like girl was pointing at the sky. Aether’s eyes widened in shock and wonder as the stars fell in curtains. What started off as a shooting star, became a meteor shower.

“Wait a minute,” Paimon started but was cut off by a bright light.

Aether gulped, “That star is getting really close isn’t it?”

Paimon screamed as Aether grabbed her and shot himself backwards to avoid getting hit by a fragment of space. The light grew brighter than he could handle and his hand flew to his eyes. Roaring filled his ears as the path before him was illuminated and the crash that occurred must’ve been heard for miles.

The traveler opened his eyes as the brightness finally dimmed. He nearly shot back again seeing a strange young woman sprawled out on the ground. Paimon gasped as the beautiful woman’s eyes fluttered open.

“Is this the Celestial Archon?” Aether approached her cautiously, mumbling.

“Teyvat.” She whispered, ignoring his question.

With that one word, she fell unconscious. She slipped into a dreamy sleep.

#Celestial Archon Series #genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #master diluc #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #genshin liyue #genshin mondstadt #genshin mona #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #genshin lisa #genshin ningguang #ganyu

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ddaengtae · 4 years

Text

see you around || jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college, strangers (idiots) to lovers, fitness instructor! jungkook, fluff, smut

word count: 13.9k

summary: you know those beautiful strangers that you admire from afar and obsess over with your friends, but know there’s about a one percent chance they’ll ever talk to you or even know who you are? that’s precisely what jeon jungkook was to you; a piece of delicious eye candy that you could daydream about all you wanted, but had to accept that it was too unrealistic to ever happen. or so you thought. after an embarrassing accident at the gym that makes your worlds collide, maybe you had been wrong about your chances all along.

a/n: when i came up with this idea in my head, i guessed it would be around 5k words. guess my hands slipped. this is only my second bts fic, but after getting good feedback for my first one, i decided to give it another try and this is what happened. i tried to edit closely, but there may be a few types so i’m sorry! thanks for reading & pls lmk what you think. :)

Another week, another million reasons to be stressed. It really seemed like that was the never-ending pattern of the college lifestyle. The weekend was never long enough to truly allow yourself to unwind. Sure, those two days were great, but how was two days enough to destress from the agony of multiple all-nighters to keep up with the shitload of work that all of your professors always deemed it acceptable to assign? There was no way for you to prove it, but you believed in a conspiracy theory that all of the professors would meet up at the beginning of each semester and choose to make all of their huge assignments due on the same days just to fuck all of their students over. There could be no other explanation for the hell that was midterms season.

While during your first two years of college you would barely be hanging on by a thread during the busiest weeks of the semester, you were now a junior and had at last adopted a regime that helped you burn off some steam when the tension became all too much. Somewhere along the way, you started to realize that inhaling mozzarella sticks and Red Bull at two in the morning the night before an exam did very little to make you feel better and that it would probably be a better idea to take up a healthy lifestyle and better time management skills sooner rather than later. In the process of getting your life together, one Tuesday evening in the spring of your sophomore year, one of your roommates had convinced you to accompany her to a group fitness class at the gym on campus. To your surprise, you fell in love with it and the feeling of adrenaline and accomplishment that came along with making it through the hour. From that day on, you vowed to yourself to make it to the gym most days of the week.

There was something about group fitness classes that made you feel much more comfortable than going to the gym and working out on your own. Perhaps most glaringly, the classes were dominated with like-minded girls who just wanted some peace of mind for an hour. Most of the instructors were girls too, except for a few guys who seemed to understand why a lot of women chose to avoid the rest of the gym. It was quite unsettling to work out by yourself on the main floor and be surrounded by conceited guys who always seemed to either be undressing you with their eyes or judging you because, god forbid, you couldn’t squat three-hundred pounds like they could. The whole place just always reeked of toxic masculinity, or so that was what you had thought until you found out about the group fitness classes that the facility also held. They seemed to be a sort of heavenly escape from the rest of the place that resembled a fraternity initiation ceremony.

That was precisely where you found yourself this Monday evening. In dire need of a break from studying, you found yourself sitting on the floor of the group classroom surrounded by your equipment and waiting for your favorite instructor to arrive. The concept of a high-intensity circuit training class had initially terrified you when you first decided to try it out last semester, but it had quickly become your favorite class and one that you attended every week without fail. It was incredibly satisfying to track your progress and watch your body evolve as you adapted to be able to lift heavier weights and make it through the cardio outbreaks without feeling like you were going to drop dead every second.

Taking a long sip of your water, your eyes remained down on your phone as you heard the door of the room open and close again. As it was still ten minutes before class, you didn’t think much of it and assumed it was probably just more people piling into the room and rushing to get their equipment ready.

“Uh, hi guys! The usual instructor for the class is unfortunately sick so I’m filling in for her tonight,” an unfamiliar-- but yet also eerily recognizable-- male voice echoed through the room. “I was just recently certified so this is actually the first class I’ll be teaching here. I promise I’ll try to live up to her hype.” The unknown source let out an awkward laugh, which was met with relative silence from the rest of the room.

The moment your eyes moved up to fall upon the new instructor, your breath hitched in your throat, causing the water you had been attempting to drink to flow down the wrong pipe. This wasn’t just any unmemorable college boy filling in to instruct the class. There at the front of the room stood none other than Jeon Jungkook. The breathtaking Jeon Jungkook was going to be leading the class and you were supposed to be able perform-- let alone breathe-- properly? Oh no.

You and Jungkook were not friends by any means. Hell, it was highly likely that the boy didn’t even know who you were. You know those beautiful strangers that you admire from afar, yet know there’s about a one percent chance that they will ever know who you are or ever speak to you? The ones you tell all of your friends about and you go out of your way to use your FBI-level stalking skills to find their social media in hopes of finding out more about them so you can daydream about your nonexistent, fantasy future together? The ones you’re always hoping you’ll cross paths with while walking to class because even a glance of them will make your day a little more exciting and give you something to talk about with your friends? That was what Jungkook was to you.

Jungkook had become known as ‘hot coffee shop boy’ amongst your friend group after you had noticed him studying in the same coffee shop as you one day in the fall of your sophomore year. As you always chose to study at the least favorite and therefore least populated coffee shop on campus, it was shocking the first time someone as beautiful as Jungkook sat down at one of the tables across from yours and settled in to do his homework as well. His presence offered you a paradox; while seeing him looking like a model wearing his oversized clothes and sighing at his laptop screen was certainly a distraction at times, it also served as a form of motivation to force you to focus because you didn’t want him thinking you were slacking off. He seemed to enjoy the quiet ambience of the specific shop because after that first day, he began to frequent it almost as often as you, always sitting at the same table by the third window. On some occasions, one of his friends who always seemed to be changing hair colors would accompany him. After some research completed by your enamored friend Jennie who sometimes accompanied you, she discovered his name was Park Jimin. He quickly became known as ‘iced chai’ after that seemed to be his regular coffee order.

It was an exciting day amongst your friends on the first day of classes in the spring of your sophomore year when Jungkook happened to enroll in the same Earth Science lecture as you to satisfy the science gen-ed requirement at your university. Rocks and rivers weren’t exactly interesting, but the back of Jungkook’s head from the row in front of you certainly was. The group chat really blew up the day he spun around in his chair and asked you if he could borrow a pen. They were right that it would’ve been easier for him to just ask one of the people next to him, but you were smart enough to not think into it too much. Maybe you just seemed like the type of person to carry around an abundance of stationery materials (you weren’t, and you ended up not taking any notes that day after giving him the only pen you had).

So here you were, practically choking on your water as Jungkook started to set up his own equipment at the front of the room. How dare he invade your safe space? You suddenly felt as if you barely remembered how to do a jumping jack, let alone have the facilities to pick up a weight.

After organizing his weights at the front of the room, Jungkook’s eyes began to scan the participants in the room, likely counting how many people had shown up. The moment his eyes met yours, your whole body froze in place. Oddly enough, his seemed to do the same. His doe eyes became wide and his mouth fell into an ‘o’ as he looked at you for a few seconds too long, and you swore there was an expression of recognition on his face. Before you could convince yourself that anything of the sort had truly happened, Jungkook was blinking rapidly and shaking his head at himself before his eyes darted away to scan and count the rest of the room.

“Alright everyone, we’re going to get started in a minute here,” Jungkook announced a minute later, looking down at his phone as he connected his music and began blasting it through the speakers. “Just remember to follow my lead and please don’t hesitate to wave me over if you have any questions or are struggling with form. I’ll try to keep an eye on all of you and come over to help you out anyway.” His eyes crinkled into crescent moons as he offered the class a big bunny smile. Oh god, you were going to pass out. “We’re going to be starting with a pretty intense cardio circuit here to bring those heart rates right up and set the tone for the rest of class.” Great. Your heart rate was already accelerating through the roof just at the sight of him. “Try to keep up, but if you need to grab some water or take a break at any point, please don’t hesitate to do so. We’re going to get started in 3… 2… 1… Go!”

To your surprise, you were able to make it through the first couple of circuits without too much trouble. You made it your mission to zone in on each of the exercises you were doing, and that every time you were forced to face forward you would fixate your gaze on the back of the girl in front of you. It was shockingly easy to forget about the beautiful man in front of the room while you were gasping for breath after numerous rounds of burpees and mountain climbers. The goal was to look calm and fit without calling attention to yourself. Outside of your heavy breathing that was likely being drowned out by Jungkook’s loud music, you could say you were succeeding.

About twenty minutes into the class, Jungkook signaled a transition into an upper body circuit. While you were delighted to get a break from cardio and to allow your heart rate to calm down for a bit, following the exercises now required you to face forward and watch for his cues. This would be fine as long as you didn’t focus on his gorgeous face that was currently glistening with sweat in the most pleasing way possible, right?

“Alright, we’re going to start off here with some overhead shoulder presses for the first minute. I’d recommend something on the lighter side, but make sure you’re challenging yourself.” With a slight nod of his head, Jungkook picked up his own weights and counted down the class to begin the first exercise of the circuit.

Shoulder presses weren’t bad. You could do this. Inhaling a deep breath, you made an attempt to wipe your sweaty palms off on your leggings before picking up your dumbbells and getting in position to begin your shoulder presses. After the first few reps, you quickly fell into a rhythm that was both comfortable yet challenging, feeling that delicious burn in your shoulder muscles. At the halfway mark through the minute, your eyes had remained glued to the same girl in front of you. You finally felt a sense of peace. One look at Jungkook couldn’t hurt, right?

Wrong.

Against your better judgement, you decided to shift your eyes to the front of the room and take a good luck at a combination of both Jungkook’s back and the reflection of the front of his body through the mirror before him.

The string of events that occurred immediately after that moment was a blur. As Jungkook pressed his set of dumbbells above his head, his baggy shirt slid up his body, exposing his sweaty, toned abs that looked as though they were sculpted by the gods themselves. What was likely an audible gasp escaped from your lips as your eyes remained frozen on the sight in front of you. It was unclear if it was your mesmerized state, your sweaty hands, or a combination of both, but seconds later, the dumbbell in your right hand slipped out of your grasp and quickly went crashing downward.

“Oh my... Fuck!”

There was a moment of dissociation before you realized that the loud cry had, in fact, come out of your mouth, and that the dumbbell that had glided out of your hand had, in fact, come crashing down onto the big toe of your right foot. Your head was spinning as you began to process the throbbing feeling radiating throughout your entire foot, as well as the weight of what had just occurred. Within moments, the eyes of all of the participants were on you, as well as the eyes of the one person whose attention you really did not want in such an embarrassing moment. No, no, no.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Jungkook’s panicked voice echoed throughout the room as he spoke into his headset and he quickly dropped his weights on the ground. “Um, okay, the rest of you can keep going! I’m going to get someone else to come in within a few minutes so I can help her.” Within moments, he was shoving his way through the room until he was right in front of you and pulling the microphone away from his mouth so the rest of the class wouldn’t hear your interaction. “Are you alright? Oh my god, you shouldn’t be putting pressure on it. Let’s get you out of here and get some ice.”

You genuinely thought you were going to pass out. It had little to do with your toe, and a whole lot to do with Jungkook’s sudden closeness. His concerned face was just inches away from yours as his eyes scanned yours for any sort of explanation for what had just unfolded. His presence was intoxicating. You could smell the combination of his cologne and sweat, and you had yet to tear the image of his gleaming six-pack out of your mind. Oh my god. That had really just happened. The first impression you made on Jungkook, AKA hot coffee shop boy, was you making an absolute fool out of yourself and possibly breaking your toe while doing a simple exercise. You were never going to live this one down. You were going to throw up.

When you hadn’t responded to Jungkook within a few seconds, he took it upon himself to drape an arm over your shoulders and pull your body against his side. “Here, lean against me so you’re not putting weight on it. I’m going to bring you to the first-aid room and get you some ice… At the very least.”

It was quite possible that your brain had chosen it was better to black out the memory as Jungkook began to pull you out of the room, yelling to one of the workers at the front desk to quickly find someone else to take over the class. Your legs felt like jelly as they moved beside his, only functioning out of muscle memory rather than true volition. Here you were, body pressed against that of the guy you had admired from afar for over a year. In any other circumstance, this would have been like a dream come true. Instead, you wished the ground would swallow you up and put you out of your misery.

It wasn’t long until you were pulled into what was likely the first-aid room and instructed to sit on top of the counter by a very stressed Jungkook. The more you thought about it, the more horrible you felt. Not only was this the Jeon Jungkook of your fantasies, but it was also the Jeon Jungkook who had informed the class before it had started that this was the first class he had ever led. You had quite literally ruined his first class, and had set an appalling example of what he would expect going forward. If your toe hadn’t been throbbing, you would have seriously considered running right out the door.

“Okay, if you don’t mind, just take off your shoe and sock while I try to find an ice pack,” Jungkook commanded as he nervously raked a hand through his already-messy hair, frantically rifling through the cabinets. Your eyes watched his back as you followed his instructions, guilt filling your entire body. He seemed stressed. Nervous, even. It made sense, if you thought about it. Your foolish accident had just become his responsibility, and he was a new employee. You would be nervous too.

“Found one,” he breathed out, hitting it against the counter a couple of times to activate the coldness. As he turned around to face you, his eyes wandered down to your exposed toe. “Oh no, that looks pretty swollen. Does it hurt really badly? Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t feel great, but I’m okay.” No, no you were not okay, but you needed this to be over. Meeting his eyes, you realized those were the first words you had spoken to him since this whole debacle had unraveled. He probably thought you were crazy. Taking the ice pack from him, you chewed on your lower lip. “I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Jungkook furrowed his brow as he looked up from your foot to meet your gaze, tilting his head to the side. “Huh? You have no reason to be sorry. Accidents happen. I get it… I’m pretty clumsy too sometimes and have hurt myself much worse than this for much stupider reasons. Really, don’t worry.” He was rambling, and if you hadn’t been so distraught, you would have perhaps realized just how nervous he really seemed. Offering you a shy smile, his eyes averted away from yours as his cheeks flushed a shade of bright red. Redder than they should have been from just working out.

Looking down at your foot, you placed the ice pack on top of it and shook your head. It was difficult to form words with him so close, but you knew you had to if you wanted to redeem yourself at all. You already had created a mental plan to avoid him at all costs and hide from him whenever that wasn’t possible, but this was the least you could do. “No, I’m really sorry. You said at the beginning that this was your first class and I… I kind of ruined it for you. I’m sure you were really excited about it.”

Jungkook remained occupied with your toe as he moved the ice pack to the side, feeling around the bones and moving it gently in various directions to see how bad the pain was. “I don’t think it’s broken. Definitely pretty swollen, but not broken. However, I’m clearly not a doctor so you might want to get a second opinion.” Standing up straight, he offered you a warm smile. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. There’s always going to be more classes for me to teach and I wasn’t just going to let you suffer there. I’m happy to help.”

God, not only was he gorgeous, but he was also this friendly? It was possible that he was just being nice to keep you calm and keep his job, but regardless, he just seemed so perfect. So perfect that you feared being so close to him, for your endless flaws felt as if though they were being magnified. Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to return the smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.” You needed to escape. You needed to get out of there so you could cry to your friends about just how mortified you were and how you now really never stood a chance with hot coffee shop boy. “I should probably get going. Don’t want to hold you up any longer.”

“You’re not holding me up at all, I promise,” Jungkook responded a bit too quickly, but yet again, you were too focused on your own embarrassment to notice. Crossing his arms over his chest, the tall man tilted his head to the side. “How are you going to get back to your dorm? Do you have a ride? You definitely shouldn’t be walking on your toe.”

Fuck. He had a good point. Regardless of the pain flowing through your foot, you were willing to walk on it just to escape this situation. However, you knew you couldn’t tell him that. “I, uh, one of my roommates has a car and I was going to call her to pick me up.”

“I have my car here. I could drive you.”

Wait, what? Had he really just offered you a ride? If you had met his gaze, you would’ve seen that he looked just as surprised that such an offer had slipped out of his lips so casually. Instead, you stared down at your lap as you attempted to process his suggestion. If the situation had been even slightly less humiliating, a car ride with the Jeon Jungkook would have sounded like one of your fantasies come to life. However, at the current moment all you could imagine was the intense awkward silence that would likely fill the car as you contemplated how to successfully fling yourself out of the window. That would not do right now. You were not in the right headspace to muster up any coherent form of small talk. The offer was likely just extended out of pity anyway. He was a good guy and deemed that that would be the righteous thing to do. No need to burden him and actually make him follow through with it.

“No, no. I wouldn’t make you do that. I’m going to text my friend right now,” you assured him, weakly smiling as you moved the ice pack to the side to retrieve your removed sock and shoe. “You have a workout to finish anyway.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” Jungkook insisted, watching intently as you carefully put your sneaker back on and tied it up at lightning speed. When he realized you had no plans of speaking again, a defeated sigh pressed through his lips. Why was he so set on helping you? “Okay, okay. As long as your friend is coming soon, that’ll work. I can walk you to the lobby though.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to let you just run out of the room alone, you forced yourself to nod your head in agreement. You were being dramatic. You could handle one more minute in his presence before you imploded. “Sure, thanks.” The response came off a bit snappier than you had intended, but did that really matter at this point? You weren’t going to be able to show your face around him ever again to begin with.

Once you pushed yourself off of the counter, Jungkook encouraged you to lean most of your weight against him as he led you out the door. As you were already on the first floor of the facility, the walk to the lobby luckily didn’t take too long. Upon arrival, you plopped down in one of the plush chairs by the door, fishing your phone out of the pocket of your hoodie and pretending to draft a text. In all honesty, the moment Jungkook disappeared, you intended to wobble your way back to your dorm by twisting your foot to the side to avoid putting pressure on the big toe. You were well aware that you were going to look ridiculous, but nothing could be more mortifying than what you had already experienced.

Jungkook stood over your chair, rubbing the back of his neck as he rocked from side to side on his feet. Something about him just exuded nervous energy, and it was making you feel even more on edge. “You’re sure your friend is able to come soon, right?”

Nodding your head in response, you lifted your hand into a thumbs-up that you regretted the second your hand formed it. God, you might as well have hit him with some finger guns. Could you be any cringier? “Yes, don’t worry. She’s on her way. Really, thank you though.”

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts, Jungkook’s eyes scanned your face one last time. It was almost as if he was searching for any hint of a lie, but if he had been, he wasn’t able to find it. “Okay, okay… If you insist. I’m sorry this had to happen to you. I hope it heals quickly.” His lips stretched into that signature bunny smile you had witnessed so many times while seeing him with his friends in public, but it almost looked a little more… Bashful. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

No, no he would not. You weren’t even sure that he had recognized you from being at the same coffee shop so often, but regardless, you had already planned to avoid the location at all costs. You couldn’t stand the thought of him possibly approaching you out of pity to check and see if you were okay.

Instead of expressing any of these concerns, you twisted your lips into a small smile and nodded your head at him. “Mhmm. See you around.”

After lifting his hand in a wave, Jungkook smiled at you once more before turning on his heel and slowly starting to make his way back toward the main area of the gym. You watched as he began to disappear, as you planned on rushing out the door the moment he was out of sight. Right before he rounded the corner, his body twisted to face you once more. If you hadn’t been so fixated on your own embarrassment, maybe you would’ve noticed the way his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red before he nervously laughed to himself and rounded the corner quickly so he was out of your line of vision.

The moment he disappeared, you gathered your belongings and rose to your feet a bit too quickly, immediately noticing how you forgot to avoid putting pressure on your toe. Fighting through the pain and fighting to maintain any sense of pride you had left, you began your walk-- or rather, wobble-- home.

God, you needed some wine.

The rest of the week passed by without much trouble, but maybe that was due to your advanced avoiding skills. Due to having three midterms throughout the week, most of your time was spent holed up alone studying. While you usually would do most of your studying in your favorite quiet coffee shop, you made it a point to steer clear of it at all costs. You were well aware that Jungkook also spent a lot of his time in that specific location, and you weren’t ready to show your face to him if it could be prevented. He had been right; your toe wasn’t broken, but instead just badly bruised. While your toe may have been fine, your ego certainly wasn’t. After stumbling home after the incident on that Monday evening, your roommates had a laughing fest at your expense over a few too many bottles of wine. They attempted to convince you that what had happened really wasn’t that embarrassing, that Jungkook seemed to be really sweet about it, and that such a chaotic event would be ‘the most epic story to tell people about the start of your relationship at your wedding.’ Although you indulged in their pipe dreams for the time being, you were going to stick to your plan: avoid Jungkook at all times possible until enough time had passed that he likely forgot about your humiliating catastrophe.

After a week of cramming for exams and perfecting your evading abilities, you were beyond ready to take a night to unwind and destress. That was precisely why you found yourself out at one of popular college bars by your campus with your friend Jennie on Friday night. The pair of you weren’t exactly the type to go out and let loose very often as you tried your best to prioritize your studies, but once you allowed yourself to get dressed up and had a few vodka-crans running through your veins, you understood why a lot of college students went out so often and remembered why you used to so much during your freshman year. The sensation of being tipsy and laughing with your friends was truly therapeutic and a much-needed antidote to counteract the toxic environment of never-ending stress.

Having been at the bar for over an hour, it started to get quite crowded. As you twirled your straw around in your half-empty drink, you watched as Jennie began to look around at all of the new faces in the bar before freezing and pursing her lips. “Okay, not to make you freak out or anything… But hot coffee shop boy AKA sexy fitness instructor boy AKA Jeon Jungkook is here,” she whisper-yelled at you as she leaned toward your ear. “He seems drunk… Like really drunk.”

Blinking rapidly as you tried to process this new information, you pulled back from her and began to shake your head. This certainly was not what you needed to hear right now, but the alcohol in your system calmed you down at least a little bit so you didn’t immediately book it out of the place. “So what you’re telling me is that I need to hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night?” Despite your fears, you really wanted to get a glance of him. Although the bar was quite large, you told yourself it would be too risky. If experience had taught you anything, it was that even one glance at him could be fatal for you.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Jennie scoffed, shoving your shoulder before taking a long sip of her drink. Her gaze remained set on the area of the crowded bar that you refused to look toward. “He’s…” She paused for a moment before her eyes widened. “Okay, I might be a little drunk, but I’m almost positive he keeps looking over here.”

“Maybe because you’re staring at him and drawing attention to us,” you scolded, narrowing your eyes at her. “Please stop before I jump over the actual bar and hide behind it.”

Jennie laughed at your dramatic suggestion, eyeing your nervous persona up and down. “Relax, relax.” She looked over your shoulder yet again. “Oh, wait. He’s on the move now so I don’t think you have to worry.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you took an extra long sip of your drink. “Thank god. I don’t need to relive my earlier trauma on a night out.”

“Wait, fuck. I think--”

“Ah, is that toe girl?!”

Your whole body froze as you heard the close proximity of a very familiar male voice behind you. You wanted to believe that your initial guess of what was occurring wasn’t true, but the mixture of shock and amusement on Jennie’s face as she looked over your shoulder at the sight behind you confirmed that your worst nightmare was, in fact, true.

Sucking in a deep breath and downing the rest of your drink before placing it down on the bar, you gave yourself a mental pep talk before slowly turning on your heel to face the source of the voice. If there hadn’t been a decent amount of alcohol in your system, you were quite certain that you would’ve passed out right then and there.

There before you stood Jungkook with a cheeky grin spread across his lips and arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at, unfortunately, you. He was sporting a pair of tight, ripped black jeans and a matching black t-shirt. The clasping of a beer bottle in one hand and the way his arms were folded made his bicep muscles protrude in a manner that had you ready to start drooling. Jennie had been right; his face was glowing a bright shade of red, likely due to a great deal of alcohol consumption.

Clearing your throat, you forced your lips into a shy smile as you folded your hands together in front of you. You wished you hadn’t finished your drink so you had something more natural to do with your hands. It felt as if though your heart was going to explode through your chest, but he was here now and there was no escaping. “God, is that really what I’m known as now?”

“I mean, kind of.” Jungkook let out a loud laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. How was he so fucking gorgeous? And why the fuck was this beautiful man going out of his way to talk to you on a night out? “But I won’t call you that anymore. It’s Y/N, right?”

Your brow furrowed as your mouth opened in surprise. Wait, what? Jungkook knew your name? It felt like your mind was moving at a million miles a minute trying to process just how that could be possible.

A hand reached out from behind you to squeeze your shoulder, Jennie stepping forward and revealing herself after you had forgotten about her existence for a minute. Her lips were twisted upward into a mischievous smile. “I see a couple of my friends from one of my classes. Gonna go say hi to them. I’ll meet up with you later.” After not-so-discreetly wiggling her eyebrows at you, she mouthed what appeared to be “good luck” before sauntering off.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me now.” Jungkook chuckled quietly as he watched Jennie walk away before setting his eyes back on you and smiling warmly. You were convinced that his smile was going to be the death of you. “Hopefully you won’t try to run off as quickly as you did the other day.”

“I did not run off!” you scoffed immediately, crossing your own arms over your chest as you feigned offense. Once again, thank god for alcohol, for you were well aware that this conversation would not be happening without it. He was right, but you hadn’t realized he had noticed your urgency in escaping that day. ‘I… I wasn’t even aware that you knew my name.”

“Suuure you didn’t. You couldn’t get away from me fast enough,” Jungkook teased, leaning forward a bit to nudge his shoulder against yours. The area of skin he touched immediately felt like it was on fire, as did your cheeks. “But of course I know your name. We had Earth Science together last year and you’re always studying at the same coffee shop by North campus that I do. You’re kind of hard to miss.”

You? Hard to miss? Not to mention, the Earth Science class was a lecture with over one hundred students in it, and the professor hardly ever took any form of attendance. Sure you could say the same thing about you knowing his name, but that was only because you had gone out of your way to find out who he was after becoming captivated by him upon seeing him at the coffee shop. This didn’t make any sense. Were you dreaming? Hallucinating?

Raising an eyebrow at him, you decided to keep your response simple. “You’ve never talked to me, though…”

“I know, I know.” Jungkook unfolded his arms and clasped both of his hands around his beer bottle, staring down at his fingers as he tapped them against the glass. Maybe it was the dim lighting in the bar, but you could’ve sworn his cheeks darkened as he avoided your eyes. The aroma of cologne and beer coming off of him at the close proximity had you feeling light-headed. “I’ve always wanted to. Planned to talk to you at the coffee shop this week, but you were nowhere to be seen. You just… I… You’re really pretty and you’re always smiling and I kind of freaked out when I saw you taking that class on Monday. I’m pretty shy and not exactly the most confident person so I have no idea why I’m saying this right now… Definitely all of the beer I’ve drank… But I probably shouldn’t be overstepping or saying any of this anyway since I’m starting to realize that you’ve probably been avoiding me or think I’m weird or something. Sorry for offering to drive you home the other day… I realized after that that probably seemed creepy coming from a total stranger.” He looked to the side as he began to nervously tap his foot against the floor. Something that sounded like a nervous laugh pressed through his lips. “Fuck. This is why I barely ever drink.”

Your body remained frozen as you stared at the side of his face, fully aware of the fact that your jaw had dropped and you were visibly gaping at him. No. There was absolutely no way that those words came out of his mouth and he meant them. It had to be the excessive amount of alcohol in his system, right? Or maybe he was just sweet talking you to try to get laid. That had to be it, right? You weren’t sure if you were going to throw up, pass out, or do both at the same time. The vodka taking over your own system was preventing you from being able to form any sort of coherent thought. Still, he deserved a response.

“What? I don’t think you’re weird at all,” you reassured, chewing on your lower lip as you tried to read the expression on his face. God, you really could have come up with something better than that.

Jungkook’s doe eyes at last met yours again, a disbelieving look in his eyes. “Then why’d you lie and say your friend was picking you up and end up walking home on a possibly broken toe instead of letting me drive you home?”

Oh my god, he had seen you do that? You were certain he was completely out of sight when you had dragged yourself out of the building. To be fair, you hadn’t taken into account the fact that the place was covered with windows that would have given anyone access to see outside the front of the building, but why would he have been looking anyway? Just as you thought that day couldn’t have gotten any more embarrassing, it did.

The mix of alcohol in your system and your heart pounding in your chest was quickly becoming too much to handle and making you lose control over your faculties. Maybe that was why you blurted out, “I-I don't know… You make me nervous.”

“You make me nervous too!”

Before you could even begin to comprehend the weight of his words, another male figure popped up beside Jungkook and draped an arm over his shoulders. His bright pink hair made him easily identifiable. It was iced chai, also known as Park Jimin. If Jennie had noticed he was there, she certainly would have been freaking out.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you. You just disappeared on me,” Jimin informed Jungkook, his gaze quickly moving to set on your distraught form. If you hadn’t been so out of sorts, perhaps you would’ve noticed the look of recognition in his eyes as they set on you. “I’m sorry, is he bothering you? He never usually goes out with us and gets drunk like this, so I’m sorry if he’s a little chaotic.”

Shaking your head at Jimin, you offered him a comforting smiling. You could feel Jungkook’s concerned eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. “No, no. He’s not bothering me at all, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thank god. I was worried he might do something stupid.” Jimin let out a sigh of relief, looking between the pair of you. Could that ‘something stupid’ be what had just occurred? At last, he gave Jungkook a firm pat on the shoulder. “We have to get going right now. Hoseok thought it’d be a good idea to down five tequila shots in a row after all of the beer we drank back at the dorm. He has his head down on the bar with his eyes closed and I want to get him out of here before he starts puking everywhere. Afraid you might end up in the same state if you keep drinking at this pace too, dude.”

“I’m fiiine,” Jungkook snapped back at him, rolling his eyes as he shrugged Jimin’s arm off of his shoulder. He peered at you for a quick second before his eyes averted downward, the nerves that had been there before refusing to go away. After taking a few moments to ponder what his friend had just told him, he let out a defeated sigh. “Fine. We can go. Only because it’s Hoseok though.”

“I’ve already requested the Uber so we should head outside now,” Jimin urged, glancing over toward where Hoseok likely was sitting at the bar.

“Um.” Jungkook at last forced himself to look at you, his lips curving upward into the slightest smile. It seemed forced though, and you knew it was because you didn’t have the opportunity to elaborate on and finish the conversation you were having before Jimin butted in. You also felt as if though you were about to self-implode and needed some time to comprehend what had just unfolded. “Sorry. I have to get going, I guess. I’ll see you around though, okay?”

Nodding your head in agreement, you allowed yourself to return a reassuring smile. “Okay. I’ll see you around.” This time, it was possible that you meant it.

After he gave you one last anxious look, he turned on his heel and followed Jimin’s lead, disappearing out of your sight.

Where the fuck was Jennie?

After scoping out Jennie in the corner of the bar, you had convinced her that it was absolutely necessary to immediately take an Uber home to debrief on what had occurred. Within half an hour, you had managed to arrive back safely to your dorm and had replaced your uncomfortable clothes with pajamas and your vodka crans with a bottle of wine. Although your mind felt quite foggy from trying to piece together everything that Jungkook had said, you were able to provide Jennie with at least the majority of the details.

“Wait, hold on. Let me think about this.” Jennie threw herself back against your bed, staring up at the ceiling after her head hit the pillows. “So basically what you’re telling me is that you are to Jungkook what Jungkook is to you? Like he pretty much admitted to admiring you from afar and being too afraid to talk to you all of this time?” she questioned, eyes wide in amazement. “God damn, why can’t shit like this happen to me? This is like some fairytale shit. You’re so fucking lucky.”

Taking a big swig directly out of the bottle of cheap rosé, you let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know. It seems too good to be true. Like, what if he was just really drunk and didn’t know what he was saying? You even said he seemed really drunk. Or like, what if he was just being nice because he was trying to get laid?”

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous. I know this all seems so unreal because we never thought something like this was possible, but the things he said to you were way too specific to just be a fluke.” Jennie sat up straight again and pulled the bottle of wine out of your hands, taking a sip herself. “Besides, I was watching you guys from across the bar. He looked absolutely smitten with you and ridiculously nervous, drunk or not.”

“Fuck, I’m so much better at just daydreaming about guys than actually knowing how to talk to them and attempting to form actual relationships,” you groaned out, closing your eyes and resting your head on Jennie’s shoulder. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I hate to break it to you since I know this is very out of character for you, but you’re going to have to make the next move. He laid his cards on the table, and now the ball is in your court.” Jennie allowed her head to fall on top of yours and passed the bottle of wine back to you. “Based on what you explained to me, you didn’t really provide him with a whole lot of reassurance that the feeling was mutual and he’s probably feeling super embarrassed right now… Like, definitely more embarrassed than you felt after the whole gym incident. You have to let him know that you’re interested in him too.”

Letting out a huff, you tapped your fingers against the glass of the bottle of wine. Jennie did have a valid point, as much as you hated to admit it. Regardless of Jungkook’s intentions and just how drunk he may have been, he had seemed incredibly flustered after rambling on and exposing what he had to you. As much as there was still a part of you that was convinced that he hadn’t meant what he said, there was a bigger part of you that was excited about what this could possibly lead to if you followed through with it. You would have to throw away your nerves and muster up the tiny bit of confidence you had if this was ever going to happen.

“Okay, so what’s the game plan?”

The plan you and Jennie had concocted ended up being a lot more difficult to follow through with than you had initially imagined. The original scheme involved you approaching him at the coffee shop you both always studied at, but despite the numerous occasions you dropped by and spent hours studying there over the next week, he was nowhere to be found. It was almost as if he had adopted the same avoiding technique you had the week prior after being embarrassed at what unfolded at the gym. You weren’t exactly surprised, but it was making this whole thing a lot more complicated for you. Furthermore, the longer it dragged out, the more anxious you got that maybe this was all a bad idea and that you had misunderstood what he said at the bar.

After a week with no luck, Jennie had convinced you that maybe it would be a better idea to try to track him down at the gym. Despite going almost every day and keeping your eyes peeled for him, he was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until a few days later that it dawned on you that the group fitness class schedule was posted online, and that it was possible that he now had some classes that were officially assigned to him. Sure enough, upon checking the recreation website, you quickly discovered that he did have a couple classes that he was set to teach. While this information certainly was helpful, it was quite unfortunate that every class he led happened to be at the ass-crack of dawn. God, were you really interested in the type of guy who gets up extra early to work out? Apparently so.

So that was precisely how you found yourself rolling up to the gym at 6:45am on a Tuesday morning, eyes heavy with exhaustion as you searched for the room the class was being held in. Your heart was pounding and your palm was sweaty against your water bottle, but you were too dedicated to turn around at this point. You had spent over a week trying to track him down, and you at last had.

When you entered the room, Jungkook had not arrived yet. There were already quite a few girls in the room setting up their equipment, so you followed suit. As most participants were often too intimidated to take the spots up front and center in front of where the instructor stood, you took it upon yourself to do the honors. Of course you knew this would make Jungkook want to run the other way, but the thrill of making him as nervous as you were that last time was too exciting to turn down.

The door of the room opened and closed once more, and you didn’t even have to look up to feel his presence. Here we go. “Hi, everyone! Welcome to class. My name is Jungkook and I’ll be your instructor toda--” His voice cut off at the end of his statement, and when you finally allowed your eyes to set on him, he was already looking at you with wide eyes and tinted cheeks. Within a millisecond, his eyes found the ground and he apprehensively took his spot directly in front of you. The poor guy didn’t have a choice. “U-Um, if you guys have any questions before we get started, please don’t hesitate to wave me over!” You had a very strong feeling he was praying you wouldn’t wave him over.

The plan you had created before arriving was to wait until after class was over to ask him if he could talk for a few minutes. You knew it wouldn’t be fair to put him on the spot before class, and you didn’t exactly feel comfortable confessing your feelings for him in front of twenty other girls who were probably drooling over him as well either.

You managed to follow through with the plan, not communicating with Jungkook at all before and throughout the class except for a few soft smiles and some attempted eye contact. The eye contact thing didn’t go over so well though, for whenever you did manage to get Jungkook to lock eyes with you, he’d immediately turn bright red and force himself to look everywhere but at you. His nervous stammering through the microphone when giving instructions was almost too cute to handle.

When the class finally did come to an end and you were a sweaty mess, you sucked in a deep breath as you watched the rest of the participants start to put away their equipment. Setting your eyes on Jungkook, you smiled slightly. “Hey, can we talk?”

Jungkook looked up from his phone, eyes wide and clearly panicked. He scanned your face carefully, almost as if he was trying to guess what your intentions were. At last, he swallowed the lump in his throat and shoved his phone into his pocket. “U-Um, sure, I guess. Let’s just wait until everyone clears out.”

Nodding in agreement, you sat back and watched as the rest of the participants put their materials back in the closet and slowly began to file out of the room. With each person that left, you could sense Jungkook getting more and more anxious. He seemed to be mindlessly checking things around the room, his eyes darting back and forth between the door and any part of you that wasn’t your eyes. By the time the last girl exited, your heart was pounding in your chest as well.

Clearing your throat, you watched as Jungkook walked to the front of the room to shut the door, seeming to take as long as humanly possible to pull it closed. Just as you were about to speak the pitch you had practiced in your head and to Jennie numerous times over the past week, he opened his mouth.

“Look, I’m not sure exactly what’s going on here and I know that I might have been a bit overbearing when I was drunk last week, but if you’re just here to make me nervous and make fun of me and my awkward self for having a crush on you, you can just leave.” He at last whipped around to face you, a sad expression taking over his features as he began to pace back and forth, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He resembled something like a wounded puppy, and the longer you stared at him, the more you noticed just how exhausted and agitated he looked.

That definitely was not what you had expected and you felt awful that he had spent over a week thinking that you were probably teasing him with your friends for what he had said to you at the bar. Furrowing your brow, you pushed yourself up to your feet and crossed your arms over your chest. The planned speech was not going to do in these circumstances. You would have to cut straight to point.

“I dropped that weight on my foot because I’ve been ridiculously attracted to you for over a year and got embarrassingly flustered at the sight of your shirt riding up during class.”

Jungkook stopped dead in his tracks, clasping both of his hands behind his head as he at last allowed himself to look at you. His eyes were wide in shock, his head tilted just slightly to the left. “Wait, what?”

“I didn’t want you to drive me home because I was already so embarrassed and was so nervous that I would’ve only embarrassed myself more trying to talk to you without making a complete fool out of myself.”

As you spoke again, Jungkook hesitantly took a couple of steps in your direction. It seemed as if though his expression was slowly softening, and what almost appeared to be a small smile was fighting to form on the corners of his lips. “I asked you to borrow a pen that one time in Earth Science with plans to work up the nerve to talk to you at the end of class when I had to give it back, but instead I just kept it and ran out of the room because I got too nervous.”

Unable to hide your own smile now, you allowed yourself to take a step toward him. The closer you got to each other, the more the tension in the room built. “I lied and said that I had an extra pen that day, but really I gave you my only one and just didn’t take notes that whole class.”

At last, that familiar bunny smile stretched across Jungkook’s whole face, his chest bubbling in laughter as he threw his head back. “I once tried to ‘accidentally’ drop a book near you at the coffee shop in hopes that you’d pick it up and talk to me, but instead I just dropped it and tripped over it.” Another step forward.

Giggling quietly, you chewed on your lower lip as you advanced forward. “My friends and I have collectively referred to you by the code name ‘hot coffee shop boy’ ever since the first time I saw you there. Also, ‘sexy gym instructor boy’ since last week.”

Jungkook’s eyes were boring into yours at this point, his body inching forward just slightly as his toes finally bumped against yours. The tension-- not just from what was happening at the moment, but also from a year of pining after each other-- was so close to bubbling over. “My friends and I know you as ‘hot coffee shop girl.’ Also, ‘toe girl’ since last week.” The warm smile on his lips had twisted into a sort of mischievous smirk.

Leaning your head forward the slightest bit, your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. “If I haven’t made it clear yet, I’m extremely into you.”

Jungkook’s eyes-- which had darkened quite a bit over the last minute-- flickered down to your lips, his own head leaning forward an inch. With this movement, the tip of his nose brushed against yours. “And if I haven’t made it obvious yet, I’m extremely into you too.”

Before you could utter another word, Jungkook closed the minimal space remaining between the two of you by crashing his plump lips into yours. His hands moved up to cup your cheeks, one moving along the back of your head to tangle into your hair. Your own hands gripped to the front of his shirt as you stumbled back a bit due to the impact, your back bumping against the mirror in the front of the room. The tension that had previously been building had popped the moment his lips met yours, but as his fingers tugged on your hair and his tongue found its way between your lips, you felt it resurfacing, this time between your legs. You felt a bit flustered getting turned on this quickly by him, but when you put it into perspective, you had been waiting for this moment to unravel for over a year. As your hands slid up the front of his shirt to rest on his defined core, you were certain you could feel his length getting hard against your thigh.

Pulling away after a minute, Jungkook rested his forehead against yours and stared deeply into your eyes as he breathed heavily. There was a playful smirk on his lips as he dropped the hand from your face and rested it on your hip. It was nice to see that he had finally let his guard down. “So, I have to ask. Are you more for sex first or a fancy date first? I’m happily offering both, but we’re both kind of coming off a bit impatient here.”

Biting your tongue to hold in your laughter, you couldn’t ignore the way that the heat in the pit of your stomach was quickly sinking down lower between your legs. “You know, if you hadn’t been so difficult to track down this past week, I may have taken you up on that fancy date first.” You ghosted your fingers over his stomach, eliciting a surprised jolt out of him. “But after you made me wait so long, I think you just might have to fuck me first.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise at your lewd words before he smirked and pressed his body against yours a bit harder, leaning forward to kiss a trail of wet kisses down your jawline. “I’m happy to be at your service, but we’re kind of out in the open here. I could drive us back to my room, that is if you’ll actually get in the car with me this time.”

Rolling your eyes at his teasing comment, you shoved at his chest. Regardless, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were feeling incredibly impatient and weren’t sure you would be able to handle the wait while he transported you across campus. Chewing on your lower lip, your eyes scanned the room. “Equipment closet. It’s spacious enough, it locks, and there’s no windows.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, eyes searching your face for any hint of a lie. When he didn’t find any, he smirked and pulled back, grabbing your hand in his. “You know, I had planned on doing a lot of things today, but fucking in an equipment closet at the ripe hour of eight in the morning certainly wasn’t one of them.”

“Get used to it, hot coffee shop boy.” Smirking to yourself, you allowed him to drag you towards the closet, pressing your back against the door after he closed and locked it behind you. “Are you complaining?”

Rapidly shaking his head, Jungkook leaned forward and peppered kisses along your neck and collarbone, only pulling back to tug your shirt and sports bra over your head. “No, no. Just concerned you’re going to be the death of me before I even get started with you.” Taking a step back, he pulled his own shirt over his head before allowing his eyes to rake up and down your body. A combination of lust and admiration filled his eyes as he stepped toward you again. “God, you really are so beautiful.”

Despite the fact that you had both been completely open with each other and the current situation being far from romantic, you felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Shaking your head, you poked him in the stomach. “Speak for yourself. That’s the reason why I almost broke my toe.”

Throwing back his head in laughter, Jungkook stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting your body up and placing you down on top of a few stacked crates full of equipment. “Mmm, I can make it up to you right now.”

Leaning forward, you pressed a few kisses along the corners of his lips and his jaw. “And how are you going to do that?”

“Shhh, patience.” Jungkook grinned as he bent down, slowly kissing a trail down your neck and collarbones. When he reached your breasts, he slowed down his pace, carefully taking one of your nipples between his lips and softly sucking at the skin. Once he established a rhythm that he was satisfied with, he lifted a hand and latched it around your other breast, kneading the skin between his fingers.

Letting out a soft moan, you threw your head back in pleasure and closed your eyes. Your hands fastened around his neck, gently tugging at the hair on the back of his head. The longer his lips and hands worked at your breasts, the more the heat between your legs throbbed. “How am I supposed to be patient when I’ve waited so long for this?”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, his lips making a popping noise as he removed them from your breast. “You make a fair point.” Kissing down your stomach, he urged you to lift your hips as he tugged your leggings and panties down your legs and allowed them to fall into a pile on the floor. Kneeling down on the floor, his lips trailed their way up the inside of your thigh. “Mmm, so wet already and I’ve barely even touched you.”

Whimpering softly at the feeling of his lips so close to where you needed them, you bucked your hips upward in an attempt to feel any sort of friction. “P-Please.”

Chuckling quietly, Jungkook’s dark eyes remained on yours as he ghosted his lips over your dripping pussy. The shy, insecure boy that he claimed to be earlier was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was now indulging in the power he held over you. “Who made you this wet? Tell me.”

“You, J-Jungkook. You did,” you whined out, attempting to push down on the back of his head.

Jungkook flashed you a satisfied smirk, nodding his head. “That’s all I needed to hear, babe.” Without another word, he gripped his hands around your thighs roughly and lifted your legs to drape over his shoulders. Leaning forward, he closed the remaining space and attached his lips to your pussy. Rather than making you wait any longer to have the tension relieved, he immediately went to work on your throbbing clit, gently sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Once he was pleased by the moans leaving your lips and the clenching of your thighs, he pulled his lips off and replaced it with his tongue. Expertly circling his tongue on your clit, he reached one hand down and, without warning, began to pump one of his fingers in and out of your pussy.

“F-Fuck, oh my god, Jungkook,” you moaned out loudly, pulling harshly at his hair with one hand and reaching the other up to pinch at one of your nipples. “R-Right there.”

“Mmm, need to get you stretched out and ready for my cock,” he murmured against your heat, quickly inserting another finger and curving them at the perfect angle to hit your g-spot with every pulse. After circling your clit with his tongue a few more times, he encircled the bud with his lips yet again, this time humming against it to add an extra feeling of friction.

The sensation of his tongue and fingers working on your pussy and the sight of his glistening face was quickly becoming too much to handle. With every movement, the bundle of nerves in your core was getting closer and closer to snapping and sending you into that blissful state you so longed for. Biting down on your lower lip roughly, you closed your eyes tightly. “I-I’m close.”

“Open your eyes. I want you looking at me while you cum all over my tongue,” he rasped out after pulling back slightly, only leaning back down once you obeyed his command. After a moment, he wet two of his fingers on his tongue before quickly beginning to circle them on your clit, moving his tongue in and out of your cunt at the same speed.

“F-Fuck, Jungkook!” you yelled out, forcing your eyes to remain open and fixed on his as you were quickly sent over the edge and into a state of ecstasy. Your walls spasmed around his tongue as your vision became blurry and filled with stars. The feeling was only prolonged as Jungkook kept moving his tongue until you couldn’t take it anymore and reached forward to push his head back slightly, left completely breathless as you stared at him.

Getting off his knees and onto his feet, Jungkook stared down at you in awe, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. The sight of your release on his lips that he refused to wipe off had your core already begging for more. “God, that was so fucking hot. You’re so fucking beautiful.” Letting out a deep breath, he pecked your lips a couple times.

“How are you so fucking good at that?” you muttered against his lips, blindly reaching forward in search of the tie on his sweatpants. Once you found it, you tugged roughly at it, sitting up straighter to urge both his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Chuckling to himself, Jungkook assisted you and pulled the articles of clothing down the length of his legs, stepping out of them once they reached the floor. “I’d like to think that I’m a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets…” His eyes wandered around the room for a moment. “Or in the gym equipment room, apparently.”

Rolling your eyes and giggling at his joke, you pulled him forward again to peck his lips. “You know, if you moved to the side and let me get up, I’d happily return the favor.” Your eyes wandered down the front of his body until they set on his hardened cock resting against his stomach, the sight of it causing you to clench your thighs together.

Shaking his head in response, Jungkook flashed you a shy smile. God, how could he be so sexual yet so cute at the same time? “As enticing as that sounds and as much as I would never turn that down on any other occasion, I’m afraid I’m not going to last if I don’t fuck you right now.” Stepping forward, he looked down before cursing under his breath. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me. We don’t have fuck to if you’re not comfortable.”

“Wow, you didn’t bring a condom with you to your 7am fitness class? How irresponsible of you,” you joked, shoving his shoulder before pulling him closer to you. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean, so as long as you’re clean it’s fine with me.”

“You know, you’re going to regret teasing me,” he warned, laughing softly as he nudged his nose against yours. “But yes, I’m clean too.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you raised a mocking eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? And why am I going to regret it?”

Without another word, Jungkook reached down and grabbed his cock with one of his hands. Rather than pushing it right inside of you, he instead slowly started to rub its angry red tip up and down your folds. His eyes remained on yours, a teasing smirk tugging at the edges of his lips.

Biting on your tongue to suppress your whimpers, your eyes wandered down to the area between your thighs. “W-What are you doing?”

Pressing his lips against your jawline, he let out an amused chuckle. “Nothing until you tell me what you need. Use your words, sweetheart.”

Reaching around him, you dug your nails into the skin on his upper back. It wasn’t in your character to beg during sex, but the sight of the tip of his cock glistening in your juices from your first orgasm was enough to make you give in. “P-Please fuck me, Jungkook.” You forced yourself to lock eyes with him, hoping that the desperation you were exuding would be enough to make him cave.

Grinning in amusement against the skin of your neck, he nodded his head. “Good girl.” Sliding his cock down your folds one last time, he slowly slid it inside of your entrance once he reached it, a loud groan escaping his lips as he pushed all the way inside of you. “F-Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Moaning out in pleasure at the feeling of fullness, you whimpered as you watched the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you. The spectacle alone was enough to make the heat in your core reemerge, and your body was pleading for him to do more. “M-Move. F-Faster, please.”

Grabbing one of your legs, he extended it upward and propped it over his shoulder. After getting a good grip on it, he quickly began to thrust in and out of you. “Yeah? You like that, babe?” he breathed out, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure before he buried his face into your neck again.

Dragging your nails down his sweaty back, you were sure you were going to leave some marks behind. It only took a few moments for the feeling of overstimulation to wash away, and a new, deeper pleasure to replace it. With your leg hanging over his shoulder, his cock managed to hit you at just the right angle with every thrust. Using your grip on his back to press your body closer to his, you took the opportunity to wrap your free leg tightly around his waist. The new position made it so his cock brushed against your clit every time he pulled it out of you, the feeling nearly having your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “O-Oh my god, right there.”

Jungkook’s half-lidded eyes remained fixed on yours as he lifted one hand off of your thigh, pressing his index and middle finger together and moving them toward your mouth. “Open.” Once you complied, he inserted his fingers into your mouth. His teeth dug into his lower lip as he watched the way you closed your lips, swirling your tongue around his digits a couple of times before sliding your lips back up and releasing them with a loud ‘pop.’ There was a mesmerized look in Jungkook’s eyes as his thrusts slowed for a moment. “J-Jesus fuck, that was hot.”

A cocky smirk initially tried to spread across your lips, but it was washed away the moment he began to circle his lubricated fingers over your clit, his cock pounding in and out of your pussy at a pace that had you ready to unravel at any second. “I-I’m close.”

Letting out what sounded like a combination of a groan and a whimper, Jungkook leaned forward and brushed his lips over yours. “Cum all over my cock for me, babe.”

“J-Jungkook, f-fuck!” The sound of his raspy command and the feeling of his cock inside of you was all it took to push you over the edge again. Your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first, a sensation of rapturous bliss overtaking your senses as your toes curled and your thighs were left convulsing around his body. While your mind went foggy for a few seconds, the strain that was left in the back of your throat suggested that you had yelled out in pleasure quite loudly. The euphoria was dragged out even longer as Jungkook had yet to reach his own high, his thrusts becoming sloppier as you stared up at him with hazy vision, gasping for breath.

“I-I’m close too,” Jungkook whimpered out, eyes screwing shut as your walls continued to twitch around his cock in the aftershock of your orgasm. “W-Where do you want me to cum, babe?”

Coming back to your senses, you blinked a few times until your vision returned back to normal. Finally processing his request, you used quite a bit of your strength to push him back a bit, ignoring the confused look on his face. Using the space in front of you, you pushed yourself off of the elevated surface before getting down on your knees. “My mouth.” Reaching forward, you grasped his shaft in one hand, pumping his length a few times before leaning down and capturing his tip between your lips. After circling your tongue around it a few times, you hollowed out your cheeks and began to bob your head up and down.

“O-Oh my… F-Fuck, Y/N.” Jungkook quickly adapted to the new sensation, his hands reaching around your head to tangle into your hair and urge your head down his cock further. He locked eyes with you from above, his legs trembling around your head. Taking notice of just how close he was, you forced your mouth down further to accommodate the rest of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around his length at the bottom. The motion and the feeling of the tip of his length hitting the back of your throat was enough to make you gag, and that was all it took to push Jungkook to his climax.

Jungkook was a groaning mess above you as he released his load down your throat, unconsciously thrusting into your mouth further a couple of times to ride out of high. After a few more spurts of his hot cum filled your mouth, you worked your mouth back up his length. Once your lips popped off of the tip of his cock, you pulled back and swallowed thickly, the salty taste of his release lingering in your throat.

After taking a few moments to catch his breath, Jungkook reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you up onto your feet in front of him. Despite the crude nature of what had just occurred, the smile stretched across his lips seemed so… Innocent. “Well… That happened.” He reached up and pushed the sweaty hair that was sticking to his forehead out of his face.

Laughing softly at his words, you bit your lip and crossed your arms over your chest. “I mean, that’s certainly one way to work out at the gym.”

Jungkook’s whole body shook as he erupted into laughter, leaning down and beginning to grab all of your discarded clothing articles off of the ground. He sorted through them and handed you back yours, beginning to redress himself after. Once he was dressed, he grabbed a towel out of one of the crates and made sure the area was clean. “Don’t forget we worked out before too. That’s two whole workouts. We’re going to need to fuel up with some electrolytes or coffee or something.”

Forcing your damp leggings back onto your sweaty body wasn’t exactly the easiest or most enjoyable thing to do, but you managed. Once your shirt was back on, you looked back over at him and feigned an exaggerated amount of excitement. “Oh my god, am I going to be able to get coffee with hot coffee shop boy?”

“Only if hot coffee shop girl would be so willing to accompany him,” Jungkook jived, nudging your shoulder with his before unlocking and pulling open the door of the closet. To your relief, the room was still empty and there seemed to be no one lurking outside of it. Grabbing his backpack at the front of the room, he slung it over his shoulder. “It might be a good idea for us to shower first, though. I have a strong suspicion that we probably smell prettttty bad.”

Grabbing your own bag and water bottle, you laughed in amusement as you followed him out the door of the classroom and into the main area of the gym. “I have a feeling you’re right. Should we shower and plan to meet up after?”

Walking through the lobby, Jungkook held open the main door for you before following you outside. It was much brighter out now than when you had arrived at the facility almost two hours prior. Time really does fly by when you’re having fun. “I feel like we can’t really be trusted with the whole ‘see you around’ thing and going our separate ways just yet after the shit we both pulled avoiding each other the past couple weeks. Plus, I’m not quite done with you just yet.”

Snickering at the reminder of your past dramatic behavior, you nodded your head in agreement. “So what did you have in mind?”

Stopping in his tracks, Jungkook turned to face you. “So first, I was thinking you could come back to my place and we could both shower there. I could provide you with some clothes for the time being, but if you need to change later, I can bring you back to your place.” The corners of his lips began to twitch upward. “However, that would require you getting into my car with me, and history suggests that doing so ‘makes you nervous,’ or something like that.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure I remember something about me making you nervous too. I think some weird drunk guy told me that.” Scoffing at his flirtatious teasing, you playfully shoved his chest. “Anything else planned?”

“Hey, that ‘weird drunk guy’ is the reason we’re here today,” he scoffed, grabbing one of your hands off of his chest and lacing his fingers with yours. “Then I was thinking we could go to our favorite coffee shop. But… And I know this is kind of a wild idea... I’m thinking we sit at the same table for the first time instead of dropping pens and books to try to get each other’s attention from across the room.”

Squeezing his hand, you began to follow him as he led the way to what you assumed was going to be his car. “A bold suggestion, but I’m into it. Might have you drop a book at my feet and I’ll stare at you across the room longingly just for old time’s sake.” When you reached a shiny black SUV, Jungkook unlocked it and walked around the passenger side, opening the door for you. “So I’m guessing these plans involve us skipping classes today?”

“Well, obviously.” Jungkook flashed you a bright grin as you climbed into the car, shutting the door gently once you were in the seat. He ran around the front of it and quickly hopped into the driver’s seat, leaning over to look at you once inside. “And then once the evening comes, as I suggested earlier, I would still love to take you out to dinner, if you’d let me.” Despite everything that had just unfolded and all of the confessions you both had shared, there still appeared to be a glimmer of nervousness and hesitation in his eyes.

Leaning to the side, you reached over and placed your hand on top of his. Your lips formed into a reassuring smile. “I would love to.”

Jungkook lifted your hand that was over his to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against your fingers. “Good.” Turning to face forward, he started the car and began to back out of the space. As he looked at the pathway in front of the gym, he directed a mischievous smirk at you. “Remember that time you walked back to your room on a swollen toe to avoid getting into my car with me? Good times.”

Letting out a groan, you covered your flushed face with both of your hands. “If you don’t shut up, I’m about to hit you with a ‘see you around’ and roll right out of the side of your car while it’s moving.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorrrry,” Jungkook laughed to himself, grabbing the wrist closest to him to pull your hand off of your face. “As compensation for your shame, I will make another embarrassing confession.” He knitted his brow together as he thought for a few moments before chuckling to himself as a memory came to mind. “I once accidentally liked one of your Instagram pictures that was like… 72 weeks old and almost considered moving to another country and changing my identity. I unliked it right away and you probably didn’t even notice, but I was stressed. There. Does that make you feel better?”

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek to hide your smile, you glanced at the side of his face. “Mmm, a little bit. I think I’m going to need you to keep going.”

Jungkook scoffed as he placed your hand that he was holding down on his thigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How is that fair? I think I deserve some form of payment if I’m going to keep exposing myself too.”

“Fine, fine.” You gently squeezed his thigh, your mind sifting through all of the embarrassing things you had done in the past due to your embarrassing infatuation of the boy who was now sitting beside you. “I tried to order you, like, a sort of secret admirer coffee on Valentine’s Day, but the barista ended up giving it to the wrong guy and I ended up leaving the shop because I was so mortified.”

“Aw, I’ve always wanted to have a secret admirer,” Jungkook teased, parking the car in front of his building. “God, we really could go on forever with these embarrassing stories, huh?”

Nodding your head, you reached your hand up and playfully poked at his dimple. “It sure seems that way. We’re kind of the worst.”

Unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the car, he met you at the front of it and draped an arm over your shoulders. “Good. Just gives me another reason to keep you around longer.”

And while ‘see you around’ hadn’t been a promise that either of you kept before, keeping you around from then on certainly was one that he fulfilled.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook fic #college au #bts college au #jeongguk fic #ddaengtae #shamelesslyimagining

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Claiming Ones Own

Cross posted on my AO3. Thank you again @boldlyanxious for your encouragement.

Decided that there wasn't enough Cass and Marinette fics and finally got this concept out my head and written down.

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Chapter 1 - Cass gains a child

Cass could feel Jason’s frustrations radiating off him. He was over from Gotham to help tracking a new drug that had cropped up over there but originated in Hong Kong. They had managed to find the Hong Kong point of contact from the Gotham Drug Lord and now trying to work out the Hong Kong network.

Currently they were seated on top of a building observing their latest suspect.

She could feel the irritation pulsating off Jason, the twitch of his fingers ever so often. The low almost inaudible growl. The way the air around him vibrated with his emotions ready to pounce.

The annoyance stemmed from following the suspect for over a fortnight and it was clear that the gang rarely met up in person and was apt at avoiding use of technology to communicate. Cass was happy being a ghost bat in Hong Kong at the present. The lack of use in tech made it trickier to gain evidence for the police to surreptitiously stumble upon.

Tapping Jason, Cass signed to him ‘we need to infiltrate or plant recording devices’

“Yeah” came the response as he turned back to observe the suspect, “Recording devices is probably the quickest way. The way these guys are operating will make it hard to infiltrate quickly.”

Moments later “Fuckers!!” Jason snarled. Fingers twitching even more towards his gun.

Cass looked down and saw what caused Jason’s outburst. They had recently concluded that the men used street kids to send messages to each other, the unseen people of the city who were very good at being avoided. The gang that used them seemed hold and extraordinary amount of power held over these kids.

“Fucking pieces of shit” Jason muttered to Cass as they watched what the men were doing. Cass narrowed her eyes and silently nodded. She focused on the child who ran off observing the direction and movement. Suddenly she jabbed Jason and whispered “look” pointing to the child. They observed the girl knock into a man and sneakily pickpocket him before scampering off.

Cass nudged Jason quietly saying “plan”, before signing ‘if we can get a tracker on a kid and let them pick pocket us we can work out the number of locations and maybe plant recording devices’ Jason replied “hmmmm, risky but quicker than waiting for these bozos to slip up”.

The next few days the pair watch their target, also taking note of the street kids, to figure out who they would let target them, before deciding on the original girl they saw. She was petite, either due to age or, more likely, malnourishment. She had dark hair but what made her stand was having unexpected blue eyes. She was more skittish around the original suspect and other gang members they had come across but was bolder in her pick pocketing. She was creative in her approaches and had a far higher success rate compared to the other children. It was clear she felt safer amongst strangers who, if caught her, could seriously cause issues, than the men she was working for.

While Jason blustered and verbally vented his anger, Cass’s anger grew silent but more deadly. Neither were happy about the blatant child abuse occurring.

Having figured out the type of “target” the girl went for both Cass and Jason set the plan in motion. Trackers and recorders on their wallets, lots of cash and fake credit card trackers and recorders along with a micro trackers to put on the girl in case she ditches the wallet and just takes the cash. They dressed slightly better than the average person to showcase “wealth” which she seemed more inclined to go for and headed out.

Out on the streets she fell for their plan perfectly. Cass was able to slip the tracker onto the child while she slipped Jason’s wallet out his pocket. The pair continued their loop round back to Cass’s apartment to see where the kid went.

“Cass, fuck! She is good. If I’d not grown up on Crime Alley I would have struggled to notice. She is fucking good. Too bloody good! Shitting hell, that kinda skill only comes with practice! Like a fuck load of practice! Crap! She’s tiny! How bloody long has she been having to do this for! Fuck how long has she lived on the streets” Jason cursed. He was impressed but could feel the anger brewing, the desire to hurt someone.

“Long time” Cass replied before signing ‘She’s too thin. Her eyes showed fire. Determination but haunted’. The look in her eye’s had struck a chord with Cass when they 'bumped' into each other. Something about them resonated within her but Cass wasn’t quite ready to name it yet.

Back at the apartment they watched the trackers path and patterns over the next few days. Their little pickpocket went to 5 different warehouses along with a few apartments and the original dock with the first suspect repeatedly. Rarely using the same route or common paths, though destination always the same.

The pair scouted out the warehouses and apartments to get a better understanding of how the operation was run. It wasn’t just drug’s they were producing and exporting but also slave trafficking as well. No wonder the kids were terrified of the adults. They could easily be shipped off at any moment if they stepped out of line.

Cass’s disgust was intensifying with this discovery. They were practically slaves as it is even with the external slave threat hanging over them.

Cass could hear Jason loading of a gun. Looks like Jason’s preferred method of elimination would be soon be seen.

Over the course of a week. Cass and Jason snuck into each warehouse, planting bombs on secure/obscure locations. Carefully the explosions would leave just enough evidence for the police to take the gang down but also eliminate the gangs means to continue operating. Whilst trying to minimise external impact of neighbouring buildings. Well at least that was the aim. Anonymous hints were also sent or found at police stations.

All they now had to do was press the button on Jason's phone to ignite the bombs at the warehouses and take down the headquarters.

Jason and Cass crept into the headquarters building sticking to the shadows. Cass signed 'detonate' to Jason who grinned manically and did his thing. With so many warehouses littered with explosives you could hear when they went off. Shortly followed by the sound of sirens.

Cass and Jason used the distraction to sweep through the building taking out henchmen left, right and centre. Their anger and fury finally being released.

The pair had completed taking the men above ground up and were tying the stragglers up when they heard sirens approaching. They quickly slinked into the shadows out of sight to observe. Cass was still wanting to maintain that bats were still an urban rumour in Hong Kong at this point.

The police swept the upstairs building observing the chaos Cass and Jason had left while a group of them went off to look in the basement. Over the radio they heard a crackly “Chief, you may want to come down here. Bring bold cutters with you. And call social services and a med team. I think we will need that.”

“What's happened!” the chief replied, signalling to an officer nearby to call the services requested.

“They’ve got a group of kids caged up down here” came the crackly reply. Half of the team that went to the basement returned with a cuffed pair from the gang and took them to the cars outside. The chief muttered to himself and to the basement.

In the shadows Jason signed to Cass ‘Fuck! I should have killed those men! No! Wait! Death would be too sweet. Maimed them more” Cass nodded in agreement though her gaze kept focus on the scene they were observing.

The police slowly led the children out of the basement and, from somewhere, had a paramedic check the children out along with having someone from social services talk to them.

Then came Cass and Jason's pickpocket. The girl growled at them all and kept her distance refusing to let the paramedic treat her.

A kid spoke out to an officer "You won't get anything from her. She doesn't really speak. Or not to us at least. Dolly is a puppet and does what the Bossman says. Doesn't trust anyone"

"Yeah I don’t think Marionette has ever spoke while I've been here and that's ages, I think she was one of the first they got" another provided. Murmurs of agreement rippled through the small group children.

The girl stood watching like a cornered animal, eyes darting everywhere, looking like she wanted to escape. She seemed to see through the shadows and stared right at Cass and Jason which unsettled the bat duo. They were nearly invisible to the others in the room. But not this small child.

Quietly Cass whispered while signing "Safe. Mean men gone. Be ok now." to the girl. Even if the crowded room didn’t notice, she was positive this small girl could see her in the gloom. A small amount of tension left the girls shoulders.

Eventually the other children had all been seen by the medic, spoken to the police while the social worker was working on finding places for them to go for the interim. It was just this girl left to resolve. Having seen the adults treat the other children with care she cautiously let them look at her, warily viewing everyone and still ready for a quick escape if needed.

"Malnourished, a fair number of cuts and some nasty bruises from what I can tell. There doesn't appear to be any broken bones thankfully. She will need a careful diet to increase her weight and vitamins to help with what is likely to have missed out of her diet. Much like the rest of them. She should be good to go after I’ve dressed this cuts" said the medic looking the girl over. He turned to grab a wipe and bandage and the girl was off.

She swiftly slipped through the adults in the room and darted out onto the streets to disappear. Loud shouts occur from the chaos left behind.

Cass watched the girl intently. Observing her movements. Cass could tell though she was cooperating, the girl was planning. The glint in her eyes and slight angle of her body. As soon as she shifted to move Cass grabbed Jason and they slipped outside following her quickly. Sticking to the roofs they tracked the girl down to an alleyway. The girl was terrified. She knew they had caught her. She was trapped though and though frantically looking for different ways to avoid them was stuck.

“Safe now” Cass whispered signing along “Promise men are gone now. We won’t hurt you. We’ll look after you. You’ll be safe now”.

Carefully Cass approached the girl as if a frightened animal. Cass quietly said to Jason “Chocolate” holding her hand out for him to give it to him. Calmly and gently as possible she placed the chocolate near her and waited sitting on the floor gracefully. She could see the fear in the girl’s eyes, with distrust but there was a burning fire as well. Patience would be the key to winning the child over.

Cass knew she wasn’t going to let this girl go, let alone let her live on the streets and she was sure that Jason was of the same mind set.

Slowly they saw the girl take the chocolate. The child inspected it with caution and nibble it. The way her eyes grew wide was a delight and she ate it in haste. While she nibbled, she kept her eyes trained on the pair watching their movements.

When finished she remained cautiously looking at them, but body language didn’t scream “fear”, more curiosity was emerging. Cass smirked as she understood that she was reading their body language and reading their intent as much they were hers. Cass opened her body language up. Again reiterating ‘Safe now’ “Safe” to the girl. The girl’s eyes bored into hers whilst moments pass, and when the girl found what she was looking for offered her hand to Cass to hold.

Cass turned to Jason and stares straight into his eyes, “My child now”.

[next]

#maribat #Marinette x Cass #Marinette x Jason #platonic #ml x dc #mlb x dc #found family #maribat au

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writer-ish · 3 years

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the little things

pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 3K words | rating: T (language)

summary: An exhausted and overworked Detective gets a sweet surprise. For Week 2, Day 6 of @wayhavensummer: Farmer's Market.

special note: After maybe a month or so of writing nothing (aside from 100-200 words here and there that, had they not been on a computer, I would have immediately crumpled them up and thrown them into a wastebasket), I sat down today and wrote this entire thing in a few hours. It is raw, unedited, and probably more reflective of my own personal state of mind than I'd like. That said, I am yeeting it into the tumblr void and then going out for the night - so uh, enjoy? be kind? and thank you for reading. ♥️

“Let’s go to the thing.”

Detective Grace Bennett looked up from her computer screen, her gaze blurry and unfocused, as she tried to parse together the words she’d just heard coming from the doorway to her office.

“The… thing?” she mumbled distractedly, digging the heels of her hands into her eye sockets in an attempt to violently will them to work properly. What time is it—? It must still be midnight or close to it—

Blinking rapidly, she watched as the numbers on the bottom of her computer screen came into a sort of unsettled, electric focus.

6:02 AM.

Fuck.

She had been working on her reports for seven fucking hours. All the way through the night. Once again, forgoing sleep in an attempt to pretend she had a grasp on all the things that she was responsible for - Detective of Wayhaven, Agency liaison, good friend, good daughter, good—

She looked up, remembering once more that she was no longer alone at the station.

Mason stood in the doorway, languidly leaning against its frame, arms crossed. To the casual observer, his posture was relaxed, his expression nondescript.

But Grace knew him well enough now to recognize the sharp keenness in his eyes. The way they took in every detail of her appearance, from the haphazardly tossed-up hair, to the rumpled blouse, to what she could only presume were lines of haggard exhaustion running through her features.

He could likely smell the day-old ice cold coffee by her side. The half-eaten ham sandwich crumpled beside it.

Again, his expression hardly belied a recognition of any of that. Instead, he appeared to simply be a person waiting patiently to hear the answer to a question he’d asked.

But somehow - she didn’t know how, and yet - Grace knew better.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh, pushing away from her desk. “What did you say again?”

“It’s Friday,” was his reply.

She inwardly groaned. Grace was not in the mood for riddles, and the enigmatic, indifferent phrasing of his response caused a surge of exhaustion-induced annoyance to flow through her body. Dropping her head into her hands, she took a deep breath.

Perhaps he took pity on her. Perhaps he realized that his typical reticent abruptness was not going to go over well this morning.

Whatever it was, Grace suddenly felt a hand on the back of her down-turned head. A light pat, then strong fingertips moving through the locks until they hit her scalp, kneading gently on contact.

She let out a soft groan, her shoulders wilting further, elbows almost giving out, as the painful yet pleasurable push of his fingers worked her sore and tired head and nape.

“The market thing,” he said softly after a moment, a moment in which she was certain she had become a barely-sentient pile of mush on top of her keyboard. “That they do in the square. It’s Friday. You like to go. I was going to take you.”

It took a moment for his words to penetrate the pleasure haze encompassing her weary brain, but when they did, she felt her body still.

He was offering to go to the Farmer’s Market with her?

It was true, she did enjoy going. Before the infiltration of Unit Bravo into their lives, her and Tina used to go together every week in the summer to peruse the wares and fresh produce of the local farmers—most coming from just outside the small city limits of Wayhaven, but others from even further away. There was always something delicious and fresh to purchase or some trinket that would catch their eye. Grace had lost count of the number of handmade soaps she’d impulsively bought, only to shove them under her bathroom sink and never use them.

But then, after the arrival of Unit Bravo, after Grace’s promotion, when things got busier - when things got more dangerous - she would find herself able to go less and less. If she did manage to make it out, she’d usually end up taking Nate with her for protection. It was the type of thing he enjoyed, too; just the concept of it, as well as the simple pleasure of a new experience. Plus, Mason had always refused to be caught dead anywhere near such a cacophonic plethora of different people, bright colours, and various smells.

So the fact that he was offering to take her today, now, was an incredibly unexpected development.

“Are you sure?” she asked, barely even trying to keep the disbelief out of her voice. She looked up at him, standing so closely to her, his hand still warm and comforting on the back of her neck. “You know it’s—the same, as it’s always been. Right?”

He snorted. “Yeah, I know. And yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright, well—” She was about to acquiesce, self consciously taking her hair out of its messy bun and running her fingers through it in an ineffectual attempt to make it look presentable, but then she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the computer screen and groaned. Suddenly she felt a need to backtrack on her initial agreement.

“Honestly? I look wrecked, I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, and I doubt I’d be very good company right now. Also, you hate the Farmer’s Market. Why torture us both?”

Even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was making excuses for his sake more than her own. The fact was, she’d gotten a surge of adrenaline at the idea of going now, on a quiet, cool summer morning, when things would just be opening up and most of the town was still sleeping—to get a nice hot coffee and a pastry. To pick up some strawberries and peaches. To look for a new candle or maybe another handmade tsotchke that she didn’t need to add to her already colourful and cheerfully cluttered space. And, most of all, to spend the time with Mason.

But still. She looked like shit and she knew he hated the thought of going - Why did he offer, then? her traitorous thoughts couldn’t help but wonder - so what was the point?

As though he could read her roiling thoughts - the fact that she wanted to go and the reasons why she thought they shouldn’t - he affected a frustrated sigh and leaned over her, bracing one hand on her desk and running the other from her neck down to her back.

“Get up, Detective.” With the one arm around her back, he hoisted her out of her seat. She found herself stumbling into the warm comfort of his chest, her cheek resting against the soft material of his black t-shirt.

Her hands grasped at the back of it as she steadied herself and she looked up at him, even closer now, chest to chest, their arms around each other. He leaned forward and her breath hitched slightly, but his lips only met the tip of her nose before he pulled back and held her at arm’s length.

“Change,” he commanded, pointedly looking at her wrinkled shirt and coffee-stained trousers, “and then meet me outside the station. You have three minutes.”

Still reeling from the playful kiss, she touched her nose lightly and watched him saunter out.

It took her a moment to snap back to reality and remember what she was supposed to be doing. “Right, clothes.”

In two-and-a-half minutes, she had stripped down, shoved her old clothes in her bag, and changed into the spare outfit she kept in the office: a winning combo of bicycle shorts and a light-grey oversized shirt with the words WAYHAVEN PD on it in large block letters. She’d ditched the heels, slipped on her spare runners, and did a quick rinse and spit into her old coffee cup with the mouthwash she kept in her desk “for emergencies” only, managing to meet Mason outside with thirty seconds to spare.

She caught him flick his cigarette to the ground before straightening up as she approached.

As she always did when she had the opportunity, she found herself admiring the view he provided - tall, broad-shouldered and sinewy, like a Hellenic sculpture come to life. His hair tumbled in dark waves towards his shoulders - he needed a cut, she thought to herself - his mouth naturally sullen, even when it was pulled to the side in a smirk, like it was in that moment. Hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, half-tucked into his standard black boots, which he still wore despite the heat that was already beginning to infiltrate the crisp morning air.

He looked like a goddamn supermodel, while she looked like she was taking her two-point-five children to soccer practice. She tugged self-consciously at her shorts.

“This is all I had—” she began apologetically as soon as she got close to him, but her words were cut off by his lips on hers.

All thoughts of self-consciousness vanished as she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. She felt her feet leave the ground as he held her closer to him, his mouth tasting faintly of cigarettes and entirely of Mason, a combination that always managed to make her feel lightheaded. She couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped from deep in her throat and he tightened his grip on her further, stroking her tongue with his, leaving her pulse racing in more places than one.

After a moment he set her down and pulled away, keeping one arm loosely wrapped around her shoulders.

“Better go now before we don’t go at all,” he said gruffly, leading her to her car.

By the time they got to the Farmer’s Market, the majority of the stands had opened, farmers and local merchants laying out their produce and wares.

All feelings of tiredness that had begun to seep into Grace’s consciousness on the drive over - Mason had generously offered to drive “this heap of crap”, as he’d put it, seeing how she was probably in no state to operate heavy machinery - vanished as they parked and approached the town square.

She looked up and watched as Mason appeared to brace himself, jaw tight, nostrils flaring.

“Hey.” He looked down at the sound of her voice, the feel of her hand resting gently on his chest. “Are you sure about this?”

She watched as his body appeared to physically drain of tension, his hitched-up shoulders gentling slowly downwards, his jaw unclenching, fists unfurling. His eyes closed briefly and he placed his hand over the one that still lay over his heart.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” His smirk came back to his lips slowly. “Let’s buy you some fruit.”

She laughed at the intentional absurdity of his remark, feeling something akin to joy bubble up in her chest. She knew better than to chalk it up to anything but sleep deprivation-induced delirium, but whatever it was, it was a high she was planning to ride for as long as she could before the inevitable crash.

They wandered through the colourful stalls, Mason waiting patiently as Grace felt for the good peaches, smelled the baskets of strawberries, picked through for the perfect cherries. He dutifully held the baskets and burlap bags she handed to him, shooing away her concerns about the smells or the feel of the scratchy material on his skin.

It was still early for Wayhaven and they were practically the only two there, aside from the people at their stands and Haley, as always, ready with her carafe of coffee and some fresh-baked pastries for selling.

Grace gratefully filled her cup with a smile, before noticing that Haley was gesturing her forward. Leaning in, she gave her friend a quizzical look.

“You guys are good now?” she whispered, nodding over Grace’s shoulder.

Grace turned in the direction Haley had gestured, her eyes catching on Mason. He was looking intently at a collection of wind chimes a few stalls down, his hands full of the fruits and goodies she’d acquired, a long baguette sticking out of one of the bags.

Her heart swelled at the sight of him, in that sharp, needful way it always did, a pleasure-pain that reminded her of the way he’d stroked her hair earlier. So necessary, so vital, so scary, so new: all these things that she held to be true about her feelings towards him. The knowledge that she needed him, perhaps—no, certainly more than he needed her, and the fear that it was all-too fleeting. Nothing more than just a memory, already half cooked.

“Yeah,” she said softly, feeling her mouth turn upwards into a smile she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He’s—we’re good.”

Haley nodded, pleased, before offering Grace a cherry danish that she refused to accept payment for. Grace took another bracing sip of hot coffee and turned back to Mason, only to find he’d disappeared.

She meandered a bit through the remaining stalls, debated the necessity of yet another vanilla sandalwood candle or birthstone necklace, and glanced up more than occasionally to see if she could spot where he’d gone or if he was going to return.

Right at the point where she was starting to worry, the weariness of her wakeful hours suddenly threatening to catch up to her in the kind of hysteria that only exhaustion could create, he appeared.

He still carried her two baskets of fruit and a large burlap reusable shopping bag with that telltale baguette and a few other things she couldn’t even remember now, but in his arms was—

In his arms, he was holding—

Okay, she was crying.

Goddamn lack of sleep, she was actually fucking crying in the middle of the Farmer’s Market.

As soon as he got close enough to see her tears, he came to a dead stop and threw his hands up in the air, weighted down as they were.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” His tone was a mix of fond exasperation and abject disbelief at the sight of Grace, coffee in hand, forgotten danish dripping cherry filling onto the ground, blubbering like a baby in the midst of all the produce and plants.

But she couldn’t help it, damn it, because he’d gotten her flowers.

Her grouchy, hundred-year-old, vampire non-boyfriend, who hated Farmer’s Markets and crowds and flowers themselves, had gone off on his own and come back with a bouquet of sunflowers, delphiniums, lilacs, and daisies and Detective Grace Bennett—

Could.

Not.

Handle.

It.

She pressed her lips together tightly, just for another sob to escape.

“Jesus Christ, Gracie.” He gently put down everything he was holding to approach her, likely exhibiting extra caution because of how incredibly unhinged she must have appeared in that moment, before bracing his hands on her shoulders. “What the hell is the matter?”

“Honestly—” Her calm, mostly unwavering tone probably leant her an even more psychotic air, as she could feel the tears continue to streak down her cheeks. “—I’m just really tired, but also I really, really love those flowers.” She hiccuped. “So much.”

His face cleared of its worry and instead he shook his head, affectionate exasperation back in his expression. “You’re nuts, you know that?” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She leaned into him, partly from weariness and partly because she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

He squeezed her tightly for a moment and then, bending over, he picked up her bags and the flowers as she scrubbed her face with her hands. He made to hand her the bouquet wrapped in plastic and newspaper, but when she reached for it, he suddenly pulled it back with a tsk-ing noise.

“No more crying, got it?” He pointed the flowers at her along with his warning.

She laughed, even as she felt the telltale tingle start in her nose once more.

“Yes, no more crying. I promise,” she added, making an X over her chest with her pointer finger. “Gimme.”

He passed her the bouquet, a soft smile on his lips as he watched her bury her face in the colourful blooms and take a big inhale.

“Magical,” she sighed happily, before looking up him. She could feel her eyes fill again and his own eyes narrowed, but she just smiled and shook her head. “Thank you.”

His expression softened and he gave her a nod. “Let’s go. Get you to bed.”

She made a teasing noise, a heckling gesture that acknowledged his innuendo, but he just snorted and shook his head.

“You, sweetheart, are sleeping for the next twelve hours. I don’t care how much you beg.”

“But you love it when I beg,” she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder, then giggled as he looked at her in surprise.

“Are you drunk?” he asked incredulously and she couldn’t help but dissolve into giggles again.

“Just delirious, I think,” she said, wiping more tears - these ones from mirth, rather than an overwhelming feeling of adoration over a thoughtful gesture from a sort-of boyfriend - from her eyes. “But yeah. We should go.”

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, transferring her Farmer’s Market treasures to his other hand and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders so he could guide her out of the town square.

She looked up at him, this big, grouchy vampire man, so reticent to talk about his feelings and yet so quick to show her how much he cared in a million little ways: his nose subtly wrinkling from the smell of the flowers that he’d gotten for her, his tight hold on her purchases, his arm protectively around her shoulders, shielding her from the growing crowd and guiding her back to her car.

The way he kept looking down at her, eyes scanning her face for further outbursts.

The fact that he’d brought her here in the first place, simply because he knew it was something she liked.

Was she going to be okay?

“Oh yeah,” she said, laughing at his groan upon seeing tears well up in her eyes again. She shook her head to try and get her emotions in check, before standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He shot her a disgruntled look that just made her laugh even harder.

A summer morning. The sights and sounds of the Wayhaven Farmer’s Market. Mason’s arm around her. All the tiredness, the endless work, the stress - it all just disappeared in that moment and Grace could only think of one word to describe how she felt.

“I’m perfect.”

- ☀️🍓💐 -

#wayhavensummer #the wayhaven chronicles #mason x detective #twc mason #twc fic #farmer's market #wayhaven summer: day 6 #day 6: farmer's market #a thing!!!#i have written!#let us rejoice!#mason x grace

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tyrantisterror · 3 years

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The ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3-D: Entry Roundup

You’ve been patiently waiting for the results of the ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3-D, and now... you have to wait a bit longer, but at least you’ve got an entry roundup with lots of sketches and a good bit of feedback for all the entrants! My goal is to get the finalists illustrated in a week or two, and after that, the grand prize winner will be announced. But, for now, the official entry roundup! After the cut:

I should note that while I sketched these in the order they were submitted, my scanner saved the documents with random names, so they’re a bit jumbled. You know, just in case you’re like me and would get confused noticing that it’s almost in chronological order but with some entries jumbled around.

@bugcthulhu’s Obsideban was designed as a counterpart to Rohobaron - the Black King to Rohobaron’s Red King, if you will. Or, well, Black Queen in this case, as Obsideban also takes her personality from the “delinquent girl” archetype in Japanese media. Bug’s designs always ooze personality, and I had a lot of fun translating this big, gnarly retrosaur into my own style.

@toothlessloveshiccup‘s Argonox is the first - but far from the last - monster in this breakdown that brings in a bit of fantasy influence to ATOM’s roster. A golden-fleeced ram with a vicious streak, this sheep is both treasure and dragon at once. And while it wasn’t written in the monster’s profile, given the Yamaneon-rich nature of its wool, Argonox might be able to replicate the healing power of the golden fleece too! A very fun mammalian kaiju and excellent entry.

@highly-radioactive-nerd submitted Gunmetal Jeeves, a robot butler who can gigantomax temporarily create a holographic/hard light version of himself to fight kaiju. That detail was a late revision added to the entry before the contest’s deadline, made after the creator realized that ATOM allows for some truly ludicrous bullshit, which is something everyone should exploit when making entries for this in my opinion. Also, this is a robot butler who can size shift. Revel in its awesome absurdity!

Ultranerd submitted Rajasaurus, a dimetrodon-like synapsid kaiju with electric powers. His origin specifies that the electric powers are a result of the volatile nature of the Yamaneon deposits he mutated under, which is an interesting idea. That’s another theme that cropped up a lot in this contest’s entries, actually - people really wanted to play with what Yamaneon can do.

Case in point, @polygonfighter’s Yamaneolith takes the Monolith Monsters homage at the heart of Yamaneon even more apparent. I like the implication that there is a second mineral-based lifeform at the root of this Yamaneon cluster’s anomalous behavior - a parasite, perhaps? It brings up some interesting possibilities.

@ariccio50 submitted Kukulkuzana, and damn is this a cool spin on the body plan of my martians. I made a few changes here and there (splitting its tail into two is probably the biggest one), but tried to keep true to the original design, because holy hell is it gorgeous. The idea that this is a mountain-dwelling creature is really intriguing to me, as it looks like a sea creature, but at the same time, that flexible and low-slung build WOULD work pretty well in mountains, and it’s just the right mix of plausible weirdness that makes for a fun alien design.

@akitymh submitted Aramzados, a Venusian monster that’s basically an organic hot rod car. I like the idea of organic machinery being the gimmick for Venusian kaiju, and Aramzado’s does it subtly enough to not feel like that gimmick is the sole thing going for it. I especially love this monster’s stange, apparently mouth-less blade-beaked face.

@virovac submitted Rurzar and Zar Rider, a Beyonder kaiju and mecha (respecitvely) that were both modified and repurposed by humans reverse engineering Beyonder technology to make, like, a motorcycle-saurus essentially. It is a delightfully absurd concept, and a very, very detailed one (13 pages of description). There’s a dark undercurrent beneath the sillyness, though, as this pair show that humanity might still be following the same path as the Beyonders before them.

@dinosaurana brings us Krangor, a humanoid monstrosity of living kelp! The goal here was to create a Jack Kirby-esque monster dude, complete with the gibberish name and all. He’s also made out of kelp, which feels very classic 1950′s monster-y despite me not being able to think of any monsters that were explicitly made of kelp. I love him.

@kiryuthechimera submitted Genkakurah, a psychic retrosaur with some draconic features. Though his substantial powerset is probably the biggest distinguishing feature of this kaiju (given that most ATOM kaiju pretty much have the same standard powers), what really draws me to him is that reptilian pseudo-beard. It’s just a fun detail!

@glarnboudin submits Tiratola, and see, there’s that fantasy influence again! Even more explicitly dragon-y than Kraydi, Tiratola still manages to toe the line between sci-fi and fantasy enough to fit ATOM as is while still cementing its ties to my own slice of fantasy fiction. Man it’s good I’m doing a Midgaheim book next, huh?

@dragonzzilla submitted Scuttlebutt/Argonautilus, a hermit crab kaiju who lives in/with a hollowed out mecha. That’s a twist I can’t recall ever hearing before, and the idea of a kaiju and a mecha having an equal partnership that doesn’t involve one being grafted to the other is really intriguing to me. A very unique concept!

@evolutionsvoid submitted Fleagor, an enormous flea who has no idea what to do with itself now that there’s no creature large enough for it to parasitize. I love that concept - it takes the core idea of the giant bug kaiju archetype (i.e. unsettling the audience by showing how terrifying small, “insignificant” creatures would be if our sizes were reversed) and really turns it on its head. The name also plays on the Universal Monsters, who were a huge part of 1950′s pop culture thanks to their movies being re-released in that era, so all and all this one is very on brand for ATOM!

@skarmorysilver submitted Lilacorn, another entry that plays up that Midgaheim/ATOM connection. Reinterpreting the mythological unicorn as an Cenozoic wooly rhinoceros-inspired monster gives it a very unique look, both in ATOM and in the general world of unicorns, and she has a bad-girl with a heart of gold personality to boot!

dracosaurus-rex submitted Florasaura, a two-headed plant/retrosaur hybrid monster. I love me some plant monsters, I love me some retrosaurs, and I love me some rhyming the word “flora” with other words that contain similar vowell sounds, so this one has me written all over it!

@downtofragglerock submitted Sauroguana, a delightfully odd flying retrosaur. There’s a great deal of charm to the original illustration that this sketch doesn’t quite capture - it’s a deceptively simple design with a lot of personality in it, and with those unique leg-wings it really doesn’t need a whole lot of frills to stand out.

Draxi submitted Brakan, an unimpressive burrowing retrosaur kaiju whose mastery of illusions allows it to convince other kaiju it’s actually a big, super-powerful badass that’s the ultimate fighter in the universe. It’s a delightful parody of the concept of a fan self-insert god-mode character, with a really fun story built into it to boot!

@quinnred submitted O.N.I.A.C., a mysterious cocooned kaiju whose chrysalis has been turned into an organic computer of sorts by the people studying it, and seems to possess a fairly advanced intelligence for a kaiju. It’s a really bizarre and ominous idea, with built in intrigue given how vague its nature is. Is it just a kaijufied butterfly/moth who got stuck mid transformation? A relative of the Mothmanuds? Something else, perhaps equally alien? Good story potential here.

shadyserpent submitted Vespilitor, a bat/retrosaur hybrid made by the nefarious Spooks Organization. A mercurial prankster whose tendency to stir up trouble never crosses the line into maliciousness, he’s the kind of monster who would make a great foil to a lot of ATOM’s cast. I’d especially like to see him in a prank off with Ahuul - it’d be like Bugs Bunny fighting Daffy Duck, but on a kaiju scale.

@multiversefan submitted the Yamaneon King, a nomadic kaiju whose refusal to settle down causes problems as he stirs up trouble at kaiju sanctuaries all over the globe by showing up unannounced and stirring up the locals. He was basically designed to be a monster that the kaiju sanctuary initiative would struggle to deal with, which is a good idea for a post-ATOM Volume 2 story conflict.

Sir K submitted Jadeera, a kirin kaiju that can actually forcibly convert most of its body to Yamaneon to enter a dormant, statue-like state in a loose homage to King Shisa. Though the fantasy elements are far more present than I usually prefer for ATOM kaiju, I think it should be noted they’re pushed that far for a purpose - a theme in Jadeera’s entry, which continues where its creator left off with their submission to the previous ATOM create a kaiju contest (Yokaigon), is that the world of kaiju is more complicated and challenging than many are willing to accept, which is a theme in ATOM itself. Yokaigon’s more supernatural/occult powers are based on the ghost parascience of my setting, which ATOM has delved into a bit (Pathogen being the big example), so it’s not as out of left field as some might think.

@cerothenull brings us our final entry (unless some got lost thanks to tumblr’s shitty tagging system), the flying spider Naeranti. She’s a kaiju spider who uses silk to make complicate hot-air balloons, more or less, and that’s just delightful. ATOM could always use more spider-monsters, and with a really unique gimmick backing up a wonderfully distinct look, Naeranti is sure to stand out among her fellow giant arachnids.

Well, that’s the roundup! In a week (or two, depending on how much my hand cramps) we’ll have the five finalists, and sometime after that, the grand prize winner!

#The Atomic Time of Monsters #The ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3D

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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

Text

Finding Home

Phic Phight Prompt by @hauntedozone

Sequel to Home with no Memories

He’d been alone on the road for a week now.

In all honesty he should be half dead, exhausted and starving and desperate to find something to eat or drink. But he wasn’t. Well, he was exhausted, just, more emotionally.

It would be easier, he thinks, if he knew who he really was.

His memories were still so fractured so damaged, he didn’t even really know what he was looking for. Just that he was following some vague idea, a concept, a feeling of family and comfort and home and everything a parent was supposed to provide.

So why was he walking away from them?

Easy, Danny thought, It’s because parents or not, those feelings of safety and comfort? Weren’t something they could provide. Even when they tried, even when all that effort was put forward to be those perfect, sitcom style parents, they couldn’t do the bare minimum and not lie to his face .

He wanted Jazz.

He didn’t even know who she was. Not really. But he wanted the feelings that came with the odd memory of her, the comfort, the warmth. The vague annoyance that he was so sure family members were supposed to feel towards each other instead of the full blown fear that held him in its grasp whenever Maddie- his mother - got near him.

In all honesty he wanted to know who he was. What he was. Daniel James Fenton. Missing for five years before being found, unconscious by his parents and brought to a hospital where they kept him for a month, planning their fake lives, their lies, and everything else.

That’s what he does remember. But who else was he?

Why didn’t he look any older? Where were the others? Why was he the only one found and why was it five years later?

But Danny didn’t have the answers. He might never have the answers. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to go look for them. First, however, he needed a place to start.

It was novel, being alone. It was pretty freeing as well, no pressure to pretend to be the child that someone else had been missing, no fear of being discovered doing something wrong. No fear of discovering something and it being wrong.

Danny had gotten used to being a wanderer, following a gentle tug in his core that seemed to pull him further and further away. There was no knowing where he was going, and he didn’t exactly have fair for a bus, or food, or really anything at all. So he had to just keep walking.

It took him a week before the hunger hit, and it hit harder than he’d expected. There was something wrong about it, he couldn’t help but think, he’d never heard of hunger being this deep, of seeping into one’s chest. His stomach growled, and he felt a tug towards something. He followed.

The tug took him towards a rest stop with a small diner, open 24/7 and full to the brim with truckers and other poor souls either caught on the road late at night or spending their lives transient and traveling. Just like Danny was now. He wouldn’t mind it, honestly, if he didn’t have the bone deep feeling that he was supposed to be somewhere, and that it was wrong for him to be away.

He walked in, hoping he passed for old enough to be driving on his own, and sat down at a table in the corner. The hunger was so much, just so much and he hadn’t eaten in so long. He’d been convinced that whatever it was his parents had done to him, it had taken away his hunger. It seemed now, that hadn’t been the case.

Maybe he could order food and run? There were plenty of places to hide in the woods, and he’d be good for at least another week right? Unless he just couldn’t feel hunger until it was pressing, didn’t he read somewhere that humans can go a week without food? He was still human, right?

“Hey sweetheart, where’s your parents?” asked an older lady in a waitress uniform, her hair was tied back in a tight but messy bun, and her apron was covered in stains. She set down a glass of water, looking worried and Danny smiled, tried not to look as tired as he was.

“I just got my license,” he lied, “so this is kinda my first roadtrip.”

A flicker of understanding passed behind her eyes and she smiled, “got lost huh?”

Danny ducked his head, an attempt at feigning embarrassment. She just shook her head and handed him a menu, “let me know what you want okay? And don’t let any of these old losers bully you, they’re the rough and rowdy kind.”

Nodding his thanks, Danny opened the menu. It was full of foods he couldn’t fully remember, things he wanted to try, but his eyes landed first and foremost on the burger on the top right. Out of all of them, that one felt the most familiar and he tucked the Menu away.

He sipped on his water, trying not to gulp it down too quickly. He didn’t want anyone to think he was desperate, they might think he was a runaway. They might call his parents. He needed to make it through this without being too suspicious, just eat, and run. Easy. People did it everyday.

When the waitress came back and he placed his order she didn’t look twice at his half empty water, just filled it quickly with the water from her jug and promised his food would be out right away. He waited eagerly.

Eventually, in an attempt to ignore the hunger eating away at the very center of him, he started people watching. He was in a small booth in the corner, so it wasn’t difficult to look around, see all the different people living their lives in the exact same place Danny happened to be.

There were a few sitting alone, silently reading the newspaper or some book, but most were sitting in groups, talking loudly and sharing exploits. Danny had no way of knowing if these people were strangers or friends with each other but he ached none the less.

What would Sam be like, sitting here surrounded by rednecks? In the few fuzzy memories Danny had, she always looked so elegant, all black clothes, sharp eyeliner, expensive fabrics. He couldn’t picture her in a place like this. Then again, he could barely picture her at all. The only truly solid image he’d had of her was from the article.

The one that proclaimed her missing. Along with Tucker and Jazz and Danny himself. He fought back tears, there was no use in breaking down now. He had to find answers, somehow.

His stomach growled again.

After he ate of course. The waitress came back with a huge burger and a whole plate of fries he hadn’t ordered and set it down in front of him. Danny had looked up at her, ready to tell her the mistake, but she simply waved him off and explained it was on the house. He looked hungry after all.

And well, he was. He tucked into the burger, and then the fries, and by the time he’d finished it all along with his third glass of water, his stomach was full to bursting and he had to sit back and take a deep breath. But despite the meal, he was still hungry. He could feel it, the pull in his chest screaming out for something, but he couldn’t eat another bite. He’d tried.

He fought back tears. What was wrong with him now?

The waitress walked over once she noticed he was done, “are you alright? Was the burger no good?” she asked and Danny shook his head, trying not to let her see his face.

“It was fine. Better than any burger I can remember,” he forced a smile.

She frowned, not taken in at all, “Sweetheart, I know our food ain’t that good. Something wrong? You want me to call someone-?”

“No!” he shouted, a touch too fast and far too loud. “No, I … I have to do this on my own.”

The waitress shook her head, she was practically flooded with worry and concern and it tasted almost bitter on his tongue. Tasted. Danny frowned.

“I- Do you want to hear a joke?” he asked.

Startled the waitress set down her jug, “of course sugar, let’s hear your joke.”

It was clear she was humoring him, but Danny didn’t care. He needed something, and there was an inkling of a possibility, a thought that maybe this might work, and he was going to jump on it with everything he had.

“Where does the General keep his armies?” he asked, banking on his knowledge from reading popsicle puns when he was sneaking out back home. No, not home. Back where his parents were.

The waitress rolled her eyes, “I suppose in the barracks?” she smiled.

“Nope, in his sleevies. Do you think glass coffins will be a success?”

“I don’t-” she tried to say, caught off guard by the pun and trying to humor him with a laugh, but failing, obviously, in her confusion.

“Remains to be seen. Did you hear about the guy who lost his left arm?”

“Uh no I-”

“Ehh, his hand writing’s all right now-” his joke was interrupted when he heard her bark out a laugh, a genuine one and Danny’s chest hummed with the sound. He breathed it in, and felt something ease, just a little, in his chest.

“I’m glad you laughed, my usual clientele don’t usually get my jokes. It's hard to explain puns to kleptomaniacs. They always take things so literally.”

This one had her snorting behind her hand and looking at him completely anew, “kid you are something else you know that? This your attempt at getting a free meal?”

Danny smiled awkwardly, “is it working?”

She rolled her eyes, “keep trying charmer. I’ll go get your bill.”

Danny absorbed just a bit more of her laughter before she left, letting it settle under his skin, comforting and energetic. It wasn’t enough, not nearly, he realized, but it took away the edge and he found himself feeling mostly normal again. Well, as normal as someone who could apparently eat emotions was.

He was gone before she returned.

It was an unsettling feeling to be sure. He still wasn’t fully confident he still needed to eat, if the only thing that had taken away the painful emptiness in his chest was going to be emotions. What else was wrong with him? He didn’t age, or if he did it was slowly, he didn’t eat actual food, the cuts and scrapes he had gotten while walking through the trees to follow that tug, that pull in his chest that kept him going, all went away as quickly as they appeared. He was almost tempted to cut his hand deeper and time it as the skin stitched together.

Was that something his mother had done?

One thing he did know, he needed sleep. It was to biggest hurdle in his entire time traveling, almost a week away from home and he’d needed sleep more than anything else and it was almost grounding. It helped him feel human even as he laid awake, looking at the stars and somehow knowing the names of every constellation but not remembering why.

He wondered if Tucker was okay. If he’d complain about traveling like this or insist they took some gas guzzling car. Would he have counter arguments to Danny’s fractured morals, comment on how one little meal won’t hurt a restaurant but it could be life or death for him. That felt like something Tucker would say.

Danny kept walking.

He’d prepared after the first stop at the roadside diner. First, he’d shoplifted protein bars and trailmix,then he’d charmed the rest stop cashier into a roiling laugh after defending her from a particularly rambunctious drunk that had wandered in and made a mess of things. She’d thought it was hilarious to watch a grown man get his ass handed to him by a teenager, and Danny’s chest had practically purred with the satisfaction. As if that right there had been the first meal he’d had in months.

After that he felt lighter, like gravity wasn’t affecting him as much, and the pull on his chest got stronger, leading him away and into a certain uncertainty. He was excited now, pushing all the thoughts of experiments and inhumanity aside, there was an adventure to be had. And he was going to have it.

Looking at the stars helped too.

It was secondary of course, but whenever he felt frustrated, or tired, or on the edge of just stopping and giving up right then and there, he’d look up at the stars. Orion was there, watching over him, the big dipper and canis major, and every other constellation he could point out with ease. It gave him the energy he’d needed to go on, keep moving forward. To find the answers he so desperately needed.

One of the things he stole had been a watch. It was a large, ticking one that had caught his eye as he walked around the large store, trying not to seem to suspicious. It reminded him of something, the analogue clock he'd convinced Maddie and Jack to buy before he ran away perhaps? Or maybe, it was the ticking that was familiar. Either way it had been a comfort when he wrapped it around his wrist, holding it up occasionally to his ear just to listen. He let himself have it, this one thing that brought him comfort as he fled the only possible home he could remember.

It helped him sleep at night.

The first time Danny disappeared, it was because he was scared.

He was in the middle of the woods, decently far off the trail and mostly unconcerned with being found. Most people wouldn’t be out this far, this late, and they certainly wouldn’t be so far off the trail. Which was why, when he’d heard voices, hushed and excited, he went still.

Danny knew why he was here, the instinct he was following, homing beacon, whatever it was, it didn’t care where roads were, and it cared even less for forest paths. He wouldn’t get lost, and even if he was out here in the woods for sometime, he’d figured out exactly how to keep the hunger at bay. At least, for long enough.

The voices grew louder and Danny tried to think of what to do. Did they know he was out here? He hadn’t exactly been bothering to keep quiet, and if he could hear the crunch of leaves and foliage underneath the stranger’s boots as they walked nearer and nearer, then surely they had heard his own, far less careful steps.

Thinking, quickly and with no small amount of panic, Danny stayed still and calmed his breathing. If they knew he was in the area but he didn’t make a sound, it would take luck to find him, or some kind of tracking skill, shit. His eyes started looking around at the trees, picking out branches he might use to climb, but none of them looked like they’d hold his weight. Even if he himself felt lighter, it was unlikely a tree would agree with him.

He struggled to calm his breathing as the voices stopped, but the steps grew louder. What should he do? They were coming straight towards him? Why would they stop talking if they were trying, somehow, to sneak up on him?

His heart beat in his chest, an uncomfortably fast rhythm and Danny squeezed his eyes closed just as he heard someone break through the thick of trees in front of him.

“Brett there’s no one here,” a voice spoke, less than a foot away and full of gravel.

Danny opened his eyes.

There were two men in front of him, both holding weapons, one was a large pistol that had Danny’s heart almost stop once he caught sight of it, while the other was holding a large machete, likely used to make traveling through the wood like this easier.

“He’s hiding then,” said the stranger with the gun, “you saw the snag of blue fabric on the tree. He definitely went this way. Just, look in the bushes or something.”

The other guy, the first one to push past the trees and into the small space Danny was now standing, sharing with them, started swinging his weapon around and calling out in a sing song voice that had the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck rising.

“Come on out kiddo~.” he said, “we’re just worried about you. It isn’t safe getting lost alone in the woods at night. I mean, who knows what kind of scary people you could run into-”

Bret had slapped him on the back of the head, and ignoring his partner’s cry of outrage, said “you idiot. Do you even know how not to run your mouth?”

“Oh come on,” he’d said, carelessly waving his machete around, inches from where Danny was standing, back flush against the bark of a tree. Danny sucked in his breath to avoid being nicked. Even if they apparently couldn’t see him, the last thing he wanted was them getting a bit of blood on the blade and wondering where exactly it was from. “What’s he gonna do? Run? It’ll be easier to catch him then.”

Danny had to admit, that was certainly true. But he was eying a small trail between two of the trees nonetheless, maybe even if he made noise, if he was still invisible they wouldn’t be able to find him right?

The blade slid through his chest and into the tree.

He didn’t breath, didn’t risk the rise and fall movement of his chest, and braced for the pain. Like an idiot he’d gotten distracted, let them put a giant knife through him, and now he was going to bleed out in the middle of the woods on some quest for answers he didn’t know existed. His thoughts raced past, half formed memories that he’d been holding onto with desperation and emotions he didn’t properly remember feeling, interspersed with the image of his parents, crying on the driveway as he walked away. Was this what happens when an amnesiac watches their life flash before their eyes?

The blade got taken out of the tree, a thick piece of bark falling off and onto the forest floor before the man sheathed the thing. Danny raised his hand to his chest, confused. The pain had never come.

In fact, it was like nothing had happened at all. The blade had simply gone through him.

Like a ghost.

He ran away, running through trees and their branches, his steps silent and weightless, his hands barely there and transparent as he lifted them in front of his eyes. This wasn’t possible. It didn’t make sense, people can't just stop existing like this. That’s something he’d know, someone would have mentioned it as a possibility.

Right?

Something was wrong, horribly wrong and Danny fought against the feeling bubbling up in his chest, tried to force it down, and ran face first into a tree.

Groaning, he felt around his tender nose. Apparently being incorporeal wasn’t a permanent thing, it was just… something he could do now. Or maybe, it was something he could always do. How much of him as he currently existed, was from his parents experimentation, and how much was from when they’d tried to “fix him”. Would he ever get an answer?

Danny let his head fall back into the grass and listened for the sound of anyone following him. It would be quite a feat, he supposed, if they even realized he’d left with the way it went down. So instead he looked up at the sky, started counting stars, and let himself fall asleep right there. This dream was of an endless forest and a strange, guttural language he’d never heard before, but found himself understanding.

After he got out of the woods he went to a small town. It was nice, cozy even and the people were pleasant to be around. Even if they threw him the occasional odd look due to his filthy worn hoodie and unwashed hair. He took the chance to sneak into a gas station bathroom and try to wash some of the dirt that had caked on his face, there was nothing he could do about the dark circles though. They were a permanent fixture at this point and Danny almost wouldn’t recognize himself without them.

Once he was finished with that, he walked around a bit more, looking for stuff he could do, people he could help. The ache in his chest had come back after his long stint in the woods, and he was eager to take this opportunity to try and soothe it.

Unfortunately, a filthy stranger walking around town wasn’t exactly the most trustworthy character and Danny struggled to find anything he could do that wouldn’t just scare someone off. It was when he’d asked around outside the arcade if anyone needed help with something around town, that an adult man had stopped what he was doing, looked him up and down, and said “you trying to get a job?”

Danny, not knowing really how to answer, just nodded. He was, in reality, just trying to find someone to help payment not needed, but he wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that either.

The man just sighed and said that he’d needed help moving some of the machines into the back and that, legally, it was a two person job. He offered twenty bucks and Danny shook his hand eagerly, a large smile on his face.

The man introduced himself as Marsh Hangreeve and explained that there were about half a dozen machines that needed to get moved, either they were broken without repair, no one really played them any more, or they were so outdated that all the cords were starting to fray and become a health hazard to the younger kids that sometimes wandered around the arcade.

The first one they lifted had been lighter than Danny was expecting, and they were able to easily maneuver it exactly where Marsh had wanted it in the back storage closet. Once they’d set it down, he’d had given Danny an approving look, nodded, and led him to the next one.

They were on their way back from carrying the fourth, and Danny was feeling pretty pleased with himself, when a kid no older than six had ran past them and tripped over the wire of one of the damaged games, pulling it off balance. The entire machine tipped back, towering over the fallen child and Danny couldn’t stop himself from running forward if he’d wanted to. His very being hummed and pulled, and he was there, one arm holding up the machine and the other curled around the child, protective.

Marsh had screamed a warning, but it hardly mattered. Danny lifted the machine easily back into place and gently picked up the child in his other arm, before stepping away and setting him back down.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked the frightened child, concerned.

“Is he okay?” Marsh scowled, “are you? Boy I told you those were a two man job why would you run over trying to get yourself squished like that!”

Danny rolled his eyes, clearly it wasn’t as heavy as it had been made out to be, “and let him get crushed instead?”

Looking over at the kid Marsh breathed out a frustrated sigh, “I guess you have a point. But don’t do it again or you can forget the twenty bucks I owe you. Here kid, let’s find your parents.”

Danny smiled, it felt good, helping people.

Was that the human part of him though? Or was it something else?

When Danny and Marsh finished the job he’d gotten his twenty dollars and a free dinner, and Danny gratefully accepted. Despite everything, he really did like being around people. Humans were kind by their very nature, and Danny basked in that feeling as much as he could on his journey. Sure, sometimes he felt more like he was taking advantage than anything else, and it was selfish almost, to seek out civilization only for his own needs.

But he tried not to think about that too much either- it sometimes caused a physical ache in his heart- and let the free meal settle as he fell asleep again, under the stars. They were particularly bright that night and he could have sworn he heard the ticking off a clock as he drifted away to sleep.

It was getting colder. It made sense really, he was headed north afterall. And he’d made plans for that, for the winter cold and the snow. He’d gotten a winter coat from walmart by sneaking in through the walls, it turned out he could spread that particular power to anything he touched, and fought the wave of guilt that hit him every time he did something like that.

He justified it in his mind with two different familiar voices. One that was easy going and carefree and told him, “hey you need that more than anyone else does, besides who’s going to miss one silly coat if it’ll save your life it’s worth it right?” The other was more steady, almost righteous and it said that “large conglomerates like Walmart and other stores gain most of their fortune on the backs of workers. They could stand to lose a bit of merchandise.”

His plan, once it got too cold to stay outside, had been to use the truck stops and sleep there, insulated from the cold at night before heading out again in the morning and continuing to walk. He’d had the fleeting thought, that perhaps he was headed to the north pole, and that there was no way for him to get there, no matter how long he walked, because that just wasn’t what humans can do.

Then again, he should have known better than to think himself limited to what humans can do.

It was when he woke up, covered in snow and more comfortable than he’d been any time Maddie had tucked him into bed under layer and layer of warm blankets, that he realized the cold didn’t just not affect him: it was a comfort.

Danny had held the snow in his hand and marveled at it. It didn’t melt, nor did it’s cold sting at him, and Danny found himself sitting, enraptured, by the intricate detailed designs that every flake formed as it fell. He blew the snow from his hands and watched as more formed, icy and solid and buzzing with the same kind of energy he felt just underneath his skin. Could he make ice now?

Was he Jack Frost or something? It certainly made sense, Jack Frost could apparently turn invisible and supposedly took the form of a young man riding on the wind. Then again, he’d never read anything about Jack Frost being able to turn visible, and Danny didn’t think he could fly.

Could he?

How would someone even go about discovering that?

As eager as he was, Danny wasn’t about to go jumping off cliffs or anything, not when he was so close to his answers. To the end of the rope that’s been leading him, tugging at his chest. So Danny just shook the snow out of his hair, marveled at the comforting soft feel of it, and continued his trek.

Amity Park had a sign on the outskirts proclaiming it “a nice place to live” and Danny felt something click into place as he walked past the town’s boundary. His emotions were suddenly running wild, as if he’d been starving them, and suddenly he could feast. He had to take a step back but there was something stopping him, a cry for help and he ran towards it, energy flowing all around him too much to keep inside too much to hold and he felt as a bright light surrounded him and he flew forward, his legs fading behind him until he came upon a scene straight out of his nightmares.

It was a monster, terrorizing a young woman, probably in her early twenties if that. The monster was large, glowing, and only just opaque enough to not look like some kind of hologram. Danny flew in front of it, putting himself between it and the girl and growling a warning. He wasn’t thinking about how his feet weren’t touching the ground, he refused to question it for fear of the ability going away without his control. He didn’t look down.

The monster stopped, a stunned look on its face, “ghost boy?” it asked. Danny frowned, why did that voice sound familiar? Was he really something from his dreams? How much had he dismissed as fantasy only for it to be reality, law of nature breaking reality?

“What did you call me?” Danny asked, risking a glance to see if the woman had run yet. She hadn’t, instead she was just standing there, smiling, and when she noticed him looking, she waved. He fought a blush, what the hell?

The monster laughed, “I knew you hadn’t Faded! They all told me I was crazy to hunt for prey long dead, But I, Skulker, was right! And here you are!”

Danny didn’t know how to react to that. Did he know this thing? Wait, no, clearly he knew this thing. It was somewhere, scrambled with the rest of his memories. Flashes of cages, and fights, constant paranoia, and Danny felt his hand grow cold as he built ice in it to attack with.

The woman called out though, no longer afraid, “oh please. He’s only been gone, what a year? Weren’t you crying just last month about how much you missed him?”

Danny turned around to face her, “weren’t you scared? Why are you still here?”

At the same time the monster, Skulker, sputtered, “I was merely lamenting the loss of such rare prey!”

The woman just giggled, “how can I leave when my hero has finally retuned to save me~”

There was something weird going on here. For one, everyone seemed to recognize him, but neither of them had used his name. For two, he and this Skulker were clearly floating in the middle of the day and almost no attention was being paid to them at all beyond the woman who’d originally called for help.

Who clearly no longer felt she needed it.

“Hold on,” Danny said, struggling to sort through the information he was being given, “you two know me?”

Skulker’s grin dropped and the girl gasped.

“What do you mean by asking such an absurd question! You and I are mortal enemies! Of course we know each other!” geez, he didn’t have to get so offended.

Danny crossed his arms, “what’s my name?”

“Uh,” Skulker looked down towards the woman before looking back at Danny, “you know you’re usually a bit more tightlipped about that. It’s really not sporting to hunt prey that isn’t in it’s right mind.”

Danny scowled, “why would I be tightlipped about my name? Ugh, this is a waste of time. Just,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “leave the lady alone and go do something I don’t know, Hunter-y that won’t piss me off.”

“Why would I-”

“Or I can freeze you into a block of ice that doesn’t melt,” Danny threatened, feeling the energy build behind his eyes.

At Danny’s glare, the hunter gulped and feigned looking at his watch. “Huh, looks like it’s time to go feed that gorilla, I’ll uh, be back to hunt you later Welp!” He flew away.

Danny sighed and let himself float gently downward until his feet touched the floor. The woman ran over to hug him, eager, and Danny just let himself go intangible, unwilling to be touched so casually by someone who basically amounted to a stranger.

“Do you know my name?” he asked, warily.

She blinked, “Of course! You’re Phantom, ghost boy and savor of Amity Park. Did you hit your head or something?”

“Or something,” he answered, still stuck on something she said, Skulker had called him that as well, “what do you mean when you say ghost boy?”

Her eyes widened and she brought one of her hands, slender and perfectly manicured, to cover her mouth as she gasped. “There is something wrong. I knew you wouldn’t leave for so long without a reason!”

Quicker than he could react to, she grabbed his shoulders and led him to a store front window. Whatever she was trying to show him was probably inside, but Danny was struck instead by his own reflection, ghostly and glowing with bright green eyes.

He disappeared.

The woman called out to him, not thrown at all by his display of power, or by how much a freak he must be. Was he the same as the monster he’d almost fought earlier? They’d called him ghost boy, was Skulker a ghost? Was he?

But he couldn't be. That didn’t make sense.

Someone couldn’t be alive and dead…

Unless…

Experiments…

“We were trying to fix you Danny.”

His chest hurt again. And he followed it subconsciously, taking a path through town on auto pilot, and trying not to think about his changed appearance. When had it happened, why? Was it something he could undo, like the other powers he had?

Why did this town feel so different from all the others? What was the giant spike of energy drawing him like a moth to flame in the center of everything. Was that what was pulling him here? Or was this just where he needed to be?

How long was it going to take to get him memories back anyways. There wasn’t even a clock tower here! Hadn’t that been his goal, the one thing he knew to look for?

His path had brought him to an old torn down building on the end of a residential street. It hurt, for some reason, to look at the rubble around him and not know what happened here, or even what it used to be. But he knew there was something here. He could feel it. The energy buzzed around him and he looked around, checking if there was any other crazy people or dangerous “ghosts” before he simply, let himself fall down through it.

He found a lab.

Not just any lab, but the lab from his nightmares. The beakers, the buttons, the ominous table with thick metal cuffs and dark green slime long dried on it. He put his hand to his chest, almost feeling the scalpel as it sliced into him. Taking a breath, he pushed it away, buried and hidden, he could think about that another day.

For now, all his attention was on the glowing green and purple swirling mass of energy that was singing at him like a song. It pulled him in, and he floated towards it, this power newly discovered and yet second nature, just like all the rest.

He hesitated for a moment, before he went through it. What if what he was looking for was over here, on this side of whatever that was, and he couldn’t get back out? What if he really was dead, and that led to the afterlife? What if he was missing the answers to his questions by going through?

But he’d followed the pull to this town and he’d found familiarity as foreign as it was, and now he was following his gut.

He braced himself and flew through.

What he found was a swirling green void that made no sense and defied what little laws of nature Danny remembered existing, like gravity and sense. Danny had the feeling that it went on, winding and stretching, for an eternity and that no matter what way he went, he could get lost forever and never find his way back.

That didn’t matter though, because right in front of him, larger than life and bigger than anything around it, was the clock-tower he’d been searching for.

It didn’t look like it belonged there, in fact, with it’s size and the relative barrenness of the collections of floating rocks and doors around him, it seemed rather ill placed. Like something had forced it somewhere it didn’t fit and Danny approached it cautiously.

There was no reason to believe that this was safe, just because he wanted it to be, just because his shattered mind had somehow put together that it was. He stood at the doors. In all reality they were ominous and foreboding. The entire tower was, sharp angles, deep purples and glowing greens. He didn’t feel scared though, so he lifted his hand to knock.

The door opened before he even touched wood and there, right in front of him, was another ghost. One he’d never seen before, with blood red eyes and a nasty, twisting scar hidden partially under a deep purple hood and a clock, ticking, familiarly, in his chest.

Danny felt tears build, his lips wobbled, his hands trembled as he clenched them tightly into fists, and when the ghost lifted his arms Danny flew into them clutching tight and crying. He heaved large, ugly sobs into his shoulder and felt a hand stroke down his back to comfort him.

“Welcome home.”

#Danny phantom #Phic Phight #Phic Phight 2021 #phic phight 21 #Clockwork dp #Clockwork #amnesia #Listen I wasn't going to make a sequel!!! the prompt made me do it!!!#Bee's writing

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laddieseddiemunster · 3 years

Note

Hi! Thx for replying by for specification, I really loved the rebel aspect about the little sister imagine and maybe you could do one for like when it’s the day after she drank the bottle and the guys didn’t find her in the cave but can sense her around the boardwalk. I read in a few that when a new member is added they can feel it so that’s the route I’m going for. If not it’s cool.

Thank you for this ask! I really love the whole little sister concept with the lost boys. This ended up kind of turning into a wholesome fic cause I didn’t want to copy my other one. Hope you enjoy!

New Arrival (Lost Boys & 13 y/o Sister!Reader)

warning(s): mentioning of kidnapping, sneaking out of school, alcoholism, peer pressure

Some might say you were too young to be ditching school, but the hell with them, right? Though you weren’t sneaking out of school to a party. No, you were meeting up with friends to go exploring through some abandoned places. Sure, these places could be haunted, but the slight fear makes the experience more fun for you and your friends. Nothing spooky has ever happened before, so why should something happen now?

One of your friends came up with the idea. It was supposed to be a celebration for you and your friends most hated teacher because they had just gone missing. It was the ‘I’m glad you’re gone and I hope you never come back’ type of celebration. You didn’t know exactly what abandoned place you were going to, but wherever it was, it seemed to be really closed off near the mountains.

This abandoned place was beautiful, but it didn’t seem too abandoned. It was a cave that looked like it was something else originally, but it was decorated so nicely that you could hardly tell. The only problem was, there was some fire lit in the cave to bring light in, which probably means someone was in here not long ago.

Instead of deciding to leave, you chose to stay because you didn’t want to look like the one that was all scared. You’ve been to many abandoned places with your friends, but the slight fact that this place could possibly not be abandoned gave you the creeps.

As you all gathered up in the center of the cave, one of your friends thought it was a great idea to play a game of truth or dare. You made the smart move and decided to go with truth, because there was no way that you were doing a dare in this cave. One of your other friends decided to go with dare, and the dare they got was to crawl through the tunnel up hidden in the cave that no one had the balls to go into. You were thankful you didn’t have to do that.

Unfortunately for you, it came a time where you used up all of your truths, and now you were forced to do a dare. If you chose truth for a certain amount of times, then you had to do a dare no matter what. One of your friends came up with that idea, and you were currently hating them for it.

Your heart beat started to pump faster and faster as you thought of what horrible dare you would have to do in this cave. The answer to your question, was not thrilling or exciting as you might have guessed. Your friend handed you a tall looking wine glass that had been sitting on a table when you had first gotten to the cave. Your friend told you that for the dare you’d have to take a sip of whatever substance was in this glass.

Both of your eyes looked down in the direction of the bottle in your hands. The liquid inside was blood red, and it didn’t smell too appealing either. You almost gagged and immediately shook your head. There was no way you were going to drink this. All your friends started to whine and tell you that you had to do it because it was a dare. They started to chant “chug!” over and over again. You realized that if you didn’t drink it, then your friends would never let you live this down. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “If I die it’s their fault,” you thought to yourself before putting the opening of the bottle up to your lips.

The substance burned your throat the second you swallowed a tiny portion of it. You let the bottle drop onto the floor and smash into thousands of pieces. You started to cough as you felt the burning from the liquid practically in your chest now. Your friends crowded you asking if you were okay, but you couldn’t answer them. You were barely able to breathe, more or less speak.

While you were trying to catch your breath, you heard some screaming coming from the other end of the cave. You thought this day couldn’t get any worse, but boy, were you wrong.

The screaming was coming from your friend that was given the dare to explore one of the tunnels in the cave. Well, they were now squirming out of the tunnel, and they looked scared shitless. They were screaming loudly that you all needed to leave now, and you definitely weren’t going to argue with that. The rest of your friends now looked pretty afraid, so you all grabbed your things and left as quickly as you could.

Your friend started to calm down when the cave was no where in sight and you all were safe. They claimed that they saw a couple people hanging from the roof at the end of the tunnel. A couple of your friends thought it was all a bunch of bologna. Some of them actually wanted to go back and investigate, but you were quick to shut them down. There is no way in hell that you were going back to that place.

The boys woke up and immediately noticed something was off. They could feel in their blood that a human had just been turned. Though, they didn’t know how. David could tell that it was from his blood, so he knew that someone drank the bottle. That, or one of them didn’t fully kill someone, and they hoped to god that that wasn’t the case.

Once they all saw the broken bottle of David’s blood on the floor they knew what had happened. They could also smell in the air that their were humans in the cave just a couple hours ago. Their main concern wasn’t to go out and kill some people that were in the cave, the main concern was to find you. A new vampire out in public could be dangerous. Lots of terrible things could happen that they didn’t want to think about. They knew they had to find you. Before Max did.

You didn’t feel too bad after a couple hours. You were able to breathe, and the burning in your chest went away. It was almost like nothing had happened. Well, so far.

Once you felt 100% you decided to take a walk around the boardwalk. Your friends were most likely already there. You met up with them there almost every day. Your mom dropped you off at the boardwalk before scurrying away to the nearest bar. It wasn’t a surprise to you at all. Sometimes you wondered how your mother even remembered to pick you up after school cause of all her drinking. You hoped one day she’d get some help for herself and you, but you’ve been hoping for that for years.

After your mom dropped you off you decided to look around for your friends. You usually met up with them around the carousel, but when you got there, they were nowhere to be found. You figured that they were probably still spooked over what happened at the cave, so you decided to go for ice cream because you knew it’d be a while before your mom would come to get you.

While you were in the line to order some ice cream, you started to feel a pounding in your chest. It felt like your heart was about to explode. You fell onto your knees and tried to take a few breaths. You could practically hear your own heart beat. It sounded like your heart was a ticking time bomb that was ready to detonate. A couple people in the line crouched down to your level and asked if you were okay.

As you looked over at the people trying to help you, you noticed that a weird feeling appeared in your throat. Almost like a thirst. Not a thirst for water though. You could practically smell the blood from their veins. It was quite unsettling, and the thirst in your throat kept increasing. It was like you were looking at them as if they were a meal. The people didn’t understand. They probably thought you were about to pass out.

The thirst was too much for you to handle, so you pushed past the people to try and stop it. Of course, that didn’t work at all. There was hundreds of people walking around, and you were stuck right in the middle of the crowd. The thirst didn’t go away, and the crowds only made it worse. The pounding in your chest didn’t help much either. You felt like you were dying, and no one around you seemed to care.

Your vision started to blur, and now your head was pounding along with your heart. You almost felt like your legs were about to give out. Until you felt someone grab onto both of your shoulders to keep you upright.

“Are you okay, kid?” Your vision came back and you looked up to see who was talking to you. It was a tall blond looking rocker, who definitely was considerably a lot older than you.

“Y-yeah! I’m fine,” you tried to get away from him, but he wasn’t budging. He hard a firm grip on your shoulders.

“Oh good, you found her,” you turned to your left to see a shorter blond with curly hair. He had a leather jacket on that had lots of vibrant colors. Since you had been on the boardwalk a good amount of times, you knew who these guys were. They were a part of the biker gang that was known for being feared. These guys were bad news.

“Wh-what?” The fact that they had been looking for you only sparked red flags. Luckily, your thirst started to become manageable. You didn’t quite feel it anymore. It was strange that the second these guys showed up was the second your thirst started to wear off, but you weren’t exactly complaining about it.

“Uhh, kid, you’re going to have to come with us,” the shorter blond said trying to take your hand.

“No!” You pulled your hand away from him, but the taller blond still had a grip on you.

“Kid, listen, you’re a-”

“No! Let go of me!” The blond rocker now grabbed onto your wrist. He was pretty strong, so no matter how hard you pulled, he didn’t budge one bit. The two remaining members of the gang had now joined in. Four against one.

“This is the one, right David?” The shorter blond asked. David. Now at least one of them was revealed.

“Yes,” the one called David said. He was definitely the leader. You recognized him because he always led the pack whenever you saw them around the boardwalk. “We have to take her back.”

You cursed under your breath realizing that you had to get out of this and fast. “Help me! I’m being kidnapped! Help!” You screamed for anyone to hear, but everyone just kept walking. It was like you were deaf upon ears.

“Stop it, kid! Ow!” The blond rocker yelped in pain as you bit down hard on his wrist that gripped onto your arm. He still didn’t release you, no matter how hard you tried. The other two blonds laughed at the two of you.

“Jesus Paul,” the brunette scoffed. “You’re scaring the hell out of her!”

“You’re not being kidnapped,” the shorter blond said with a mischievous smile appearing on his face. You could tell that he liked scaring people. “Well, not literally.”

The brunette shoved the shorter blond aside and walked towards you. “What’s your name?”

“Why would I tell you that?” You replied trying to back away from him.

“We’re not here to hurt you. You’re not being kidnapped,” the brunette said and turned back to glare at the shorter blond. “We’re here to help you.”

“From what?” You asked still unconvinced.

“We’re gonna explain that. Just tell us you’re name first,” the brunette said.

You rolled your eyes at told him your name. They all followed by telling you their names. The brunette was Dwayne. And the shorter blond was Marko.

David pushed Dwayne aside to walk towards you. “Let’s get to the point, okay?” You nodded even though you didn’t know exactly what he meant. “You drank from the bottle, didn’t you?”

You gasped softly. Dammit, you knew that you shouldn’t have drunk from that bottle. All because of some stupid dare. You shut your eyes and nodded.

David sighed. “Look kid, this is going to be really hard to explain, and I can’t do it here. You’re going to have to come back with us.”

“How do I know you’re not going to hurt me?” You asked not fully trusting them.

David chose not to put his hands on you. He felt that that would probably freak you out even more. “I swear to you that we won’t. We are here to help you, and protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” You asked.

“Yourself in a way.” You gave David a questioning look. What the hell was in that drink? “Listen to me very carefully,” you nodded. “You’re no longer...human. That drink contains something that turns you into... one of us.” He said which didn’t help your confusion.

“It’s hard to explain, but I can explain it better if we’re not in public. You’re going to have to trust us. If you don’t, it can be bad for you.” David said which still didn’t make much sense to you. But, you wanted to know what was the matter with you, so you nodded.

The boys took you out of the crowds and towards their motorcycles. You still didn’t exactly trust them, but if they could fix whatever was wrong with you, then you were willing to take the risk. David motioned for you to get on the back of his bike, and you had to take a breath before getting on it. Millions of thoughts raced through your brain, but you tried to convince yourself that these guys might actually be trying to help you.

The ride was actually kind of thrilling. You could tell David had no intention of driving slow. It didn’t surprise you when you saw them stop right in front of the caves entrance. You hoped to never see this cave again, but it didn’t look like this cave was ever going to leave your life.

You walked in trying not to look at the broken glass on the floor from the ‘wine’ bottle.

“Is this what you drank from?” Marko asked picking up some of the broken glass.

You gulped and nodded.

David and Marko shared a glance. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like a good one.

“Y/n, we are not exactly human,” David started. “You’ve seen all the missing posters around the town I’m sure?”

You nodded again.

“Those people are missing because of us. We are...killers. We have to feed from people to survive. If we feed, we will never die.” David said. You started to fidget. Maybe they weren’t trying to help you. Maybe they wanted you to be their next victim.

“So, you’re...cannibals?” You asked hoping that that wasn’t the truth. The two blonds started to laugh, but Dwayne glared at both of them internally telling them to stop.

David shook his head. “No, we’re...” David took a deep breath. He didn’t like stating the exact name of what he was, “...vampires.”

You scoffed in disbelief. You weren’t only in the worst place in the world, but now these guys claim to be vampires.

Marko and Paul shared a glance and mischievously smiled at each other. You were about to call them crazy, until you saw both of the blonds faces change completely. Their eyes turned golden, and their teeth were now sharp fangs that could pierce anyone’s skin.

Before you could scream, Dwayne put his hand over your mouth. “It’s okay, they’re not going to hurt you.” He tried to sound reassuring, but it didn’t work too well. The blonds turned back to normal after a few seconds, and you started to calm down. After Dwayne took his hand away from your mouth, you started to put two and two together.

“Is that what...I am?” You asked hoping that your conclusion was incorrect. The last thing you wanted to be was a vampire.

David nodded. “In that bottle, was my blood. Since you drank it, you’re now one of us.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Vampires were supposed to be fake! Not real! You couldn’t imagine killing people in order to survive. “Is there any way to turn back?”

David looked away before shaking his head.

“You mean I’m stuck like this forever?!” You raised your voice. This was worse than death.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Marko said.

“It’s worse than it looks!” You fired back making Marko look to the ground.

“Well, on the bright side you’re going to be our sister now,” Paul said with a smile.

“I don’t want to be your sister!” You said which made Paul’s smile fall. “I want to be normal!”

“Look, I understand that you probably want to think this over. There is a bedroom over there if you want to be alone.” David said pointing over to a room that was covered with curtains. You wondered why. You didn’t want to argue with them anymore, so you got up and walked over to the bedroom closing the curtains behind you. This was definitely the worst day of your life. You had to bite your lip to fight the tears that were threatening to fall. Crying wouldn’t help anything at this point.

You ended up spending the night there. The boys brought you food before the sun came up, but you never said a word to them when you came to give you the food. You woke up the next day assuming that it was morning. Instead, it was six in the afternoon. The sun was probably already down. You groaned realizing that your mom was probably pissed right now.

A couple minutes later, Dwayne, Paul, and Marko walked in your ‘bedroom’. You sighed and sat on the bed trying not to look at them. Marko walked to the side of the bed you were closest on, and he showed you a teddy bear that he had been hiding behind his back. He gestured for you to grab it, and you hesitated before grabbing it. The bear was brown, and it had a big smile on its face. You looked over at Marko and he shrugged his shoulders with a grin. You smiled and hugged the teddy bear tightly letting your head rest on the toys head.

Paul walked over to you and showed you a cake he had been hiding behind his back. On the top of the cakes was writing made out of frosting that said “Sister?” on it. You chuckled and took the cake.

“Is this...breakfast?” You asked not exactly knowing what to name this meal.

“Hey, if you don’t want it, I’ll eat it,” Paul said laying down on the bed.

“Did you write this?” You asked Paul pointing at the writing on the cake.

Paul nodded.

“Well, you have terrible handwriting,” you giggled looking at the words on the cake that were so hard to make out. It looked like someone drunk had written it.

Paul glared at you before grabbing the teddy bear and throwing it at your face. While you were distracted, Paul took his chance and wrestled you down to the bed and grabbed the cake looking like he was about to drop it on your face. You screamed for him not to do it.

“Take back what you said!” Paul pretended to be angry, but you could tell that he was just playing. Though he probably would drop the cake on your face.

“I take it back!” You gave in and Paul put the cake down on the bed.

You looked over at Dwayne who looked like he was trying not to bring up the elephant in the room. “Where’s David?” You asked him.

“He went out.” Dwayne said with a frown on his face. “Look y/n, you’re not a full vampire yet, you’re half. In order to be full, you’ll have to make your first kill.”

You looked away from Dwayne. Your good mood was now gone. “Do I have to make a kill?”

“Well, it’s probably best that you shouldn’t right now,” Dwayne said which gave you some hope. “You’re pretty young, so it’d be best if you wait til you’re older. It’ll be hard, but you’ll be able to do it.”

You sighed. “Will I ever get to see my friends and family again?” You asked Dwayne.

“It’s probably best that you don’t. You won’t be going to school anymore, so it’d be hard to explain to people why you aren’t going,” Dwayne replied.

“I’m not going to school anymore?” You asked.

“Well, as long as you’re with us, then no,” Dwayne said. No school? You hated school. Maybe this life wouldn’t be so bad after all. Then you remembered about your mother. You couldn’t just stop seeing her. Even though she wasn’t the best mother, you still loved her.

“What about my family? I can’t just leave my mom. I’m all she has!” You told them.

“It’s probably best that you don’t see her. If you see her and she calls the police, it could be bad,” the brunette explained.

Your mom was probably worried sick about you. The least you could do was check up on her, and make sure she’s okay.

“Can i at least go check up on her? Just to see if she’s okay? I won’t talk to her, I’ll just look through the window,” you suggested.

Dwayne looked over at Marko and Paul for an answer. They both shrugged their shoulders.

“Okay,” Dwayne agreed. “But just this once.”

You were glad that they were letting you see your mother, but at the same time it felt like they were controlling your life. You didn’t choose to be like this, but now you can’t get out of it. All because of a stupid dare.

Dwayne drove you to your mothers house. It sucked because you wanted to see how she was doing, but you couldn’t speak to her. You could only look through the window. You hoped to god that this wasn’t the last time you’d ever see her. The thought of that made you sad.

You told Dwayne to stay on his motorcycle, and that you wouldn’t be long. As you walked over to the front window you noticed a car pulled up in the driveway that you had never seen before. You shrugged it off and decided not to pay much attention to it. You crouched down next to the window and took a look trying not to look suspicious.

When you looked inside your house, you saw that your mom was sitting down on the couch. She looked like she was talking to someone, but you couldn’t see who. Suddenly, someone walked over to her. It was some guy you had never seen before. He grabbed onto the back of her neck and started to kiss her. She definitely wasn’t trying to push him away. He ended up getting on top of her, and she let him.

Your breath hitched and you started to see red. You mother didn’t seem like she was worried about you. It looked like she was having the time of her life. You had been gone for almost a full day, and she cared so much about you that she was hooking up with some guy in your own house. You knew she wasn’t perfect, but this was crossing the line.

You felt tears start to form in your eyes, and you tried to blink them away. Some still fell, but you were so angry that you didn’t care. Angry and sad. Angry because you just realized that your own mother didn’t look like she cared that you hadn’t been home for almost a day. Sad because of the same reason. She obviously didn’t care. She cared more about alcohol and this random guy more.

Dwayne noticed you wiping away tears from your eyes as you walked back to his bike.

“Are you okay? What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Nothing. Just drive,” you ordered him as you hopped on the back of his motorcycle.

“Is she okay?” Dwayne turned around to face you. He saw that your lip quivered and that your eyes were watering.

“Yeah, she’s just perfect, okay?” You barked back not looking at him.

“Tell me what happened,” Dwayne said while grabbing onto your arm.

“Nothing! Just take me home!” You said with a slight whimper. Dwayne decided not to keep bothering you with the question. Obviously something happened, but you weren’t going to tell him. Dwayne was a little surprised that you told him to take you home. Because you meant the cave. You wanted to go back to them. Dwayne realized in that moment, that whatever you did see, made you not consider the place with your mom ‘home’ anymore.

Dwayne said nothing to you on the ride back to the cave. He didn’t want to upset you any more than you already were. Dwayne wasn’t planning on telling the other guys about what had happened. They’d probably get worried and shower you with more questions.

David was already back at the cave when both you and Dwayne came back. When you walked in, you noticed that Marko and Paul had big grins on their faces. Too bad you didn’t feel like smiling along with them.

“Where’d you guys go?” David asked.

“We went for a ride,” Dwayne said which was half the truth.

David nodded before standing up. “Y/n, I got you something.” You sighed. You weren’t exactly in the mood for any more gifts. All you wanted to do was lay down in bed for the rest of the night. It was a terrible day, and you felt like nothing in the world could make it better.

Before you could tell him that you weren’t in the mood, David pulled out a black leather jacket that looked around your size.

“I thought that sense you’re one of us, that you should look like us,” he said handing you the leather jacket. You took it in your hands and admired it for a few seconds. It wasn’t too crazy like Marko’s, but it did have some design. The front had some golden print, and some beads were stamped on the upper part of the sleeves. The edge of the sleeves also had some golden printing. There was no zipper or buttons. It looked like a smaller version of David’s jacket.

“If you don’t like it I could go get another one,” David suggested.

“No! No, I like it,” you said still admiring it. You had never owned a leather jacket before. Up until now of course.

“You could decorate it, too,” Marko said pointing to his very decorated jacket.

You still felt a little hurt from the past situation, but you weren’t sad anymore. You felt welcomed by the guys. Even though they’re vampires, they’re now your brothers. Whether you like it or not, that’s not going to change.

“Try it on,” Paul said and you obeyed. You pulled the sleeves over your arms and noticed that it was a perfect fit. David sure knew how to pick the right size and jacket. You couldn’t exactly look into a mirror to see how it would look, so you looked over to your new brothers.

“How do I look?” You asked them.

“Like one of us,” David said and you smiled.

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thgreatestblue · 3 years

Text

false god [part I]

➜ pairing: kokushibou x fem!reader ➜ warnings: mentions of torture, blood, prostitution. ➜ words: 4,7k ➜ a/n: hello everyone! I decided to split this fic in two parts or else it was going to be too much. I was so excited with this idea that I got carried away (as always). I even thought about only posting the ending, but i figured if i was really writing this concept, then I would commit to it! i hope you enjoy it! ➜ ao3

➜ false god [part II] summary: Turning a blind eye was easier when the money was enough to not send you to a brothel ever again, even if it meant looking away when blood was shed. Head above water and you will never drown. The mantra kept you safe for 3 years, but then six eyes pinned you down, and you found yourself swimming in an ocean you swore you weren’t ever diving in.

If it wasn't for the long and heavy curtains, the house would have been a really pretty and enjoyable place. However, you highly suspected that if it wasn't for the appearances, the house wouldn't even have windows to start with, so you weren't complaining. Although it was hard to see with only a small candle in your hands — the flame barely illuminating the few steps in front of you — you had grown used to the darkness by now. The last 3 years had taught you enough, and you knew the place like the palm of your hand.

But what you didn't know was where Muzan’s daughter had hidden this time. It was a fairly common game you two played when her father wasn't home, one that allowed the poor girl to run free through the corridors with no fear of running into her father — that in the last few weeks has been more violent and angry than you've ever seen. If it was scary for you, that knew what Muzan truly was; you couldn't imagine what the girl felt seeing her father losing the facade; teeths becoming sharper at each smile, eyes glowing redder at each glance.

You didn't know what had happened for the so composed and cold-hearted Muzan to start falling apart at the seams, as far as you knew, he never acted that way before; even the rest of the servants had started to gossip about his weird composure. Now, more often than not, you could hear screams filling the hallways like whispers from ghosts, haunting the poor souls that were still lucky to be alive in a place like this. It would give all your body goosebumps, a weird aftertaste that was bitter than any drink you could swallow down.

You turn another corner, still trying to find the little girl. She was a sweet and well mannered girl, so easy to look after that you didn't think it was normal. How her eyes were always looking around, her tongue never daring to say more than the necessary, so quiet that most of the time you forget she was still in the room; her mother was the same.

Two beautiful things that over time started to look more like paintings than real human beings, for society to appreciate, portraying a family that was as perfect as the colors Muzan chooses to show. And for their safety, you hoped they would stay just like that. Everybody at the house knew she wasn't really his daughter — you didn't want to think what happened to the real father, then.

For the sake of their sanity, they didn't know what Muzan really was. Many of the servants didn't know either. And for some time, you wondered if it would have been a blessing being ignorant like that, not knowing what really took place in a house like this. Behind closed doors things could get even more terrifying, that even you couldn't imagine — no that you wanted, anyway.

Turning a blind eye to the situation was something you had struggled with in the first year; the amount of blood and organs you had to clean was alarming, the unspoken fear that would be in the tip of everyone’s tongue but never daring to escape; it was heavy the air every time he walked in, but for most of the servants the fear was inexplicable. Not for you though, always going to sleep with the fear that your blood would be the next staining the floor of his office.

It wasn't as if you had had a choice, neither Daki nor Muzan gave you one. It was keeping a secret or dying with it — and you wanted to live enough to see yourself out of this place, far away from these atrocities. Although it wasn't the best opinion, definitely wasn't the worst. Anything other than going back to the brothels of Yoshiwara; to the hands of strangers; to the dark nights where all you could do was scrub your skin until it was burning red.

It was a time of your life you didn't like to revisit; it was locked away in the deepest of your mind, but somehow the key would always find its way back to your hand. It was inevitable to think about those years you spent on your knees, selling your body so you could eat the next day. Though, now that you worked for Muzan, those thoughts that haunted you as you laid your head on the pillow were replaced by blood, screams of agony and guts - you’re not sure which was worse.

The candle burns quickly in your hand, you were running out of time to find the small girl. Although you had come up with a few rules to turn this game a little bit easier — like not entering any room, not hiding inside any closet — the child still put up a challenge; and again, you didn't want to think why she was so good at hiding.

“Ah! There you are!” You could see, even with the thin light, a silhouette that you were very familiar with by now. The dark hair almost blends with the background; she is gripping the candle with both hands, not looking at you even when you call her name, “I think this time you outdone your…”

As soon as you reach the little girl, you can feel the atmosphere change. There’s a dense feeling settling in your chest that spreads throughout your body like fire, almost pulling you down to your knees. The hair on the back of your neck stands up almost instantly, and you don't need to see what it is causing to know exactly what it is. The fear on the girl's face is enough to tell you that she had seen a Demon.

“Stay behind me, honey.” You whisper as you put your body in front of her’s, eyes trying to focus on the figure by the end of the corridor. The little girl immediately grabs your leg, hiding behind it, you can feel her small body shaking against you.

Not so far away, you catch a glimpse of a big silhouette walking towards you, it’s so massive that you can’t help but take a step back. It wasn't everyday you saw another Demon walking in those hallways, if ever. Besides Muzan, you only knew Daki by name; she has been the one who brought you to this place, after all.

In the back of your mind you kept telling yourself if anything went wrong, it was still midday. You could open the curtains and stand in the sun; though you didn't know if you would be fast enough to avoid a tragedy.

As the Demon stepped closer, the fragile flame from your candle trembles, even the fire was nervous at the change of events. The silence is maddening, all your instincts are screaming run! run! but you can’t move a foot. It takes only a few more steps for the figure to finally be illuminated by the light, the anticipation making your heart beat furiously against your ribcage.

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn't the man in front of you. His face is the first thing that the light reaches — and if you could hear the sound of your heart beating just a second ago, now it goes completely silent.

His face is a shade so light that for a moment you thought it was transparent; so pale, but it looked soft to the touch. There’s a red mark that reminds you of flames covering half of the right side of his forehead, and another one on the left side of his cheeks, that goes down to his neck. However, what was more unsettling about him was his eyes. There are six of them, bright yellow irises surrounded in scarlet bloody sclera, staring directly at you.

With only the candle light to illuminate the hallway, the scenario you found yourself in should’ve been a nightmare, but there was something about the Demon in front of you that made it tolerable. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, a polished posture you don't really see very often. How he didn't look like he was about to rip you apart - or maybe that was worse, because you didn't know what to expect from him.

It made you wonder who he was when still human. His hair was a shade darker than the shadows, perfectly framing his face; the ponytail was tied up on the top of his head, the rest of it falling graciously on his back, long and smooth. He was a very beautiful and elegant man; but even with the whole picture, those eyes were still unsettling,

“I’m looking for Muzan-sama.” His voice is strong and heavy, cutting through the silence of the hallway like a thunder cuts through the night to announce the upcoming rain. The little girl yelps, gripping your thigh even harder.

You immediately bow, prefering to stare at his feet than to stay under his intense gaze, “I’m afraid he’s not at home right now...My lord.” You decide to refer to him in a polite way, and he seems pleased by it.

Not only was he a Demon, but he seemed important, more important than Daki for the looks of it. He wore a black and purple kimono; the material, even in the thin light, looked expensive. However, what made him hold such a powerful presence, was the katana attached to his waist. And if his six eyes weren't enough, there were more of them carving the handle of the sword.

“And who are you?” The Demon asks, voice low and firm, making you shiver slightly. His eyes are fixed on your face, making you feel even more uneasy under his stare. He takes a few steps closer, the overpowering aura paralysing you right in the spot for a second.

“I’m Y/N,” You answer, trying your best not to sound too scared. And quickly adds, not daring making him wait, “And this is Muzan-sama’s daughter.”

You put your hand at the top of the little girl’s head, her shakiness is palpable even from far away, and you can’t blame her. Despite living among Demons, you had wished she would grow up oblivious to what went down in this household. Apparently, an illusion can never last forever, only the truth remains untouched in eternity. You try your best to calm her down by running your fingers through her hair. Even though the wax of the candle burns your hand, you can stop gripping it, anything to help you stay calm.

As if he was in a trance, he stops. Slowly catching your movements with his eyes, “Are you his wife?”

The question takes you by surprise, and you have to blink a few times, raising your eyebrows in the process. Thank Gods I'm not, it’s the first thing that crosses your mind. However, the hesitation in his voice is concerning; and you have a hard time trying to swallow down what that could possibly imply.

“No, I’m just a servant… My lord.” Telling him the truth was the only thing you could do right now.

If he decided to kill you because you weren't important, it was your fault for not trying to escape sooner. You had hoped this wasn't going to be the way you would end, but perhaps you had sold your fate on the day you saw Daki eating another girl.

The demon nods, and takes a few more steps closer. You involuntarily flinch, feeling his presence and intimidating aura hitting you like a train. Your breath gets caught on your throat as you watch his hand moving closer to your face. The nails of the little girl on your thing were definitely drawing blood right now.

But instead of ripping your head off, he touches your cheek.

You didn't notice you had closed your eyes, but they snap open at the gentle touch. Your eyes grow wide at each suffocating second his fingers hover over your skin. Goosebumps spread all over your body as his strong fingers wrap around your chin, forcing you to look at him, at his six eyes. They seem to be studying you, hovering around your eyes, your cheeks, your mouth.

It feels like you’re on display all over again. When men would come to the brothel and choose the girl they were going to use just by her looks; if she still had teeths, if they were still tight enough, if their good reputation was still intact. It made you want to choke each one of them, making them swallow down each word they had ever said until they were suffocating with their own nastiness. Right now, though, you just fell silent, letting him analyse your face as much as he wanted. You knew you would be dreaming with those yellow orbs from now on.

“Tell him I’ll be waiting in his office.” He says, slowly easing the grip, giving your face one last look before finally letting go of your chin, and you averts your eyes as soon as his touch isn't on you anymore.

The only movement your body manages to do is nod, all the rest goes numb with the tension that settles in your bones. Your breathing becomes shallow, body too paralized to function properly. There’s a growing pain on your jaw from clenching your teeth too hard. You and the little girl stay frozen in place as you watch him turning away, walking back from the direction he had come.

A cold sensation settles on the pitch of your stomach as you watch the Demon walk away. If you were to trust your guts, this definitely wasn't the last time you would be seeing him. And for better or for worse, your guts were never wrong.

II.

Walking through the hallways of Muzan’s house was different since the day you encountered that Demon. Each time turning a corner, you would hold your breath, take a double look at the shadows, looking for any sign of the man; as if he would appear from the dark and drag you to join him — no one was going to miss you anyway. Even after weeks, you could still feel his gaze hovering around your skin, the feeling of having so many eyes on you was maddening. But the worst was his touch, still managing to linger on your chin, ghostly haunting your days, and mostly your nights.

Muzan’s daughter seemed to have forgotten the encounter; she didn't say a single thing about it, even after you took her to the kitchen to give her some tea. She was shaking so much you were afraid she would pass out. However, when you asked her about, she just shook her head, saying she was afraid because the man was intimidating. You wondered if her mind had just erased the few important details or if she was pretending that nothing was wrong for her own sanity. Either way, your heart aches for the little girl, but there was nothing you could do.

Head above water and you will never drown. It has become your mantra since the first time you sold your body, since the first time you laid your eyes on a Demon - when you sold your soul to stay alive. It sure makes the food you eat taste bitter and the pillow on which you lay your head feels like a stone; but at least you are alive, right?

You could only hope that the Demon Slayers were going to put an end to this, sooner or later. If the rumors were true, then things finally started to move, and by Muzan’s temper getting worse by each day, they were making some progress.

You just had to control your emotions, and pray that Muzan wasn't going to lash any of his anger on you; living with him for a few years made you realize that even the best servants could suffer a tragic destiny, no one was safe here. No one was ever safe around a Demon, after all.

“Muzan-sama, do you need anything else?”

It was still morning outside; a very pretty day from the glimpse you caught as you passed a slightly open curtain. As much as you wanted to leave the house and enjoy the sun, mornings like those were the worst for Muzan; where the small amount of light would make him so angry that you had lost account of how many times you had to clean his office after some unfortunate soul left a tiny ray of light enter the room.

Muzan seemed to be in a good mood today; a rarity nowadays. He was wearing that same dangerous smile from the day he met you, plotting something in his mind and letting it show through his face; and if you were to guess, it wasn't a good sign. He had called for you, asked to pour him a drink — at this point you knew it was blood, just in some fancy bottle — and now was staring at you.

“I heard you meet Kokushibou, Y/N… What do you think about him?”

“Who?”

There’s a nagging feeling growing in the back of your mind as you watch Muzan dangerously smile at you. You had never heard that name before, but somehow your mind pictured the Demon from the other day straight away. If this conversation was about him, then you were definitely with a few problems.

“Tall, long hair, six eyes… Does it ring a bell?” Muzan’s tone is playful, swinging the glass in his hand.

“He seems...” You hesitate, remembering his six eyes fixed on your face, his strong hand gripping your chin, and the intense threatening aura exhaling from him. You swallow down, but your throat feels dry, “...Strong.”

“Always so observant,” He laughs, drinking a sip from the glass, “Of course he’s strong. He’s the upper moon one, stupid human.”

Wrong answer. Your mind screams, ready to push the alert button as soon as his features change in the slightest. The first time you encountered him you couldn't even speak, couldn't even breathe. The intensity of his threatening aura was so strong that you wanted to puke, scream, run away; but your feet never moved. It took you a long time to even manage to move a muscle when in his presence — all the time he acted amused, and you didn't expect less from a monster savouring the distress of a mere human.

You knew the Demon… Kokushibou was powerful just by his presence, but everything made sense now; the authoritarian semblance of dominance each of his movements seemed to carry, how different his aura was from Daki; even though she was powerful, she still acted like a self absorbed teenager.

“But I’m asking about your first impression,” If he was angry, you couldn't tell, the way Muzan quickly changed emotions was scary, but most of the time, dangerous, “What do you really think about him?”

“He seems to be respectful and polite…” It wasn't a complete lie; Kokushibou did look like he was someone important in his other life, his clothes were clean and tidy. And not trying to kill you that day was a bonus, “And definitely more civil than Daki.”

Muzan laughs again, showing off his teeth, but seeming content with your answer. He studies you while drinking another sip from the glass, and you try to do your best by staying still, but under his gaze no one could ever remain calm, or sane. Your heart beats fast in your chest as the minutes drag by. It’s agonizing, staying in the same room as him for longer than necessary.

“Well, I called you here to say that I don't need your services anymore.” He finally drops the bomb on your lap, and you can’t do much then stare at the explosion forming on your hands.

“Did I do something wrong, Muzan-sama?” You ask, but your voice is weak.

Panic starts to settle on your stomach, did you say something you shouldn't? Have you done something that he didn't like? Did he see through your facade and now was going to kill you? A torrent of thoughts starts to flood your mind as anxiety settles under your skin, making you sweat.

“No, actually you're more than perfect.” Muzan says, rather uninterested “But i don't care about that child anymore, so i don't see why keep pretending”

A cold shiver runs down your spine as he says those words as if he was getting rid of trash. Somehow, in the back of your mind, you knew this moment was going to happen. It was a matter of time until Muzan decided to drop the act and move on as if nothing happened.

He didn't care about anyone but himself. You could only hope he was merciful enough to kill them quickly, heart breaking with the thought of that little girl seeing him as the monster he truly was in her final moments before her death. What a nightmare, what twisted fucking world.

“You've been great. It's a shame you don't want to become a demon, could be one of the best and easily one of my favorites.”

“It is an honor to hear that, Muzan-sama.” You don’t sound like yourself; you can’t even process what he’s saying while you think about mother and daughter, years trying their best to please Muzan only to find death by his own hands. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes but you hold them as much as you can, it would only piss him off seeing you being emotive, caring about someone.

“Then why don't you want to turn into one?”

When you don't answer, he sighs loudly, closing the book he was reading. The sound takes you out of your thoughts, making you jump; heartbeat on your ears. He murmurs something under his breath, you’re so lucky you don’t have any idea, before getting up. With his back to you, he studies the painting on the wall of his office. It’s a strange combination of flowers and blood, but it strangely suits him.

“Since you've a good reputation, I’ve already guaranteed another job for you.” Muzan turns his head,

“Thank you so much…” You try to say between the cacophony of thoughts swinging around your head. It’s hard to keep the tears from falling down, it’s hard to think about anything else than the poor family being torn apart for his amusement.

“Pack your things, you're going to work for Kokushibou now.”

There’s a painful pause on your heart, and you could swear you were going to collapse right in the moment. Your mind goes blank, fear crossing your eyes as you remember his touch on your chin, the cold yet burning feeling of his stare on each part of your face.

“You just said you think he’s respectful, do you have a problem with him that you didn't tell me about it?” Muzan turns his head, red eyes glowing in the thin light of the room; it’s deadly.

“I don't, Muzan-sama. It’s going to be a honor.” You lie, because that’s the only thing you can do right now.

“Well then, you're dismissed.”

You don’t know how you made it to your room, how you packed your things and cleaned the room you called home for years, one last time. It felt like you were numb to everything, still not being able to process what was happening, where you were going, and who you were going to be working for. At some point your cheeks were thick with tears but you didn't feel sad for yourself, not entirely, it was how abrupt the world was. How abrupt things changed and you couldn't have a single say about it.

That’s why you never got attached to anyone, that’s why you never let your guard down. And even when you didn’t have any type of attachment, the world still manages to pull the rug beneath your feet. You don't even try to look for the little girl — not that you had the opportunity, either way.

As you stare at the view from the window of the train, you can at least relax for the first time in years. Not being surrounded by the overpowering aura that Muzan always carried with himself was so relieving that you could feel yourself taking a few deep breaths, smelling the air of the mountains. Trying to enjoy the ride as much as you could, you didn't want to think about what kind of place Kokushibou lived, or how your life would be once you step in.

It was night when you arrived at the designed station, it was far away from the city, and you were already missing the noise and the traffic, but maybe changing scenarios was something good - you had to keep telling yourself to be positive about this. It couldn't be worse than living with Muzan, right? Right.

You were welcomed by an old lady, she was waiting for you at the platform, waving at you as you got off the train. Since you didn't have many belongings, you only brought a small suitcase with you.

“You must be Y/N, nice to meet you.” She gently says, smiling at you.

“Yes, I am. Nice to meet you too.” You bow in respect. The old lady pats your head and you immediately feel safer. If the rest of the servants were like her, then maybe Kokushibou was indeed a respectful man.

The tension building up on your body slowly started to calm down as the servant explained what you would have to do. It was easy and simple, washing the bed sheets, cleaning the house, taking care of the garden. You never imagined yourself working under such a mundade setting like this; it was going to be interesting, to say the least.

However, the odd feeling that something was wrong still lingered — your gut still poking you with worries and alerts — and you couldn't just ignore it, but for now, you tucked it underneath your hopes, wishing it was enough to keep them at bay.

The wagon stopped in front of an elegant archway, and as you helped the old lady get down from it, you studied the beautiful front yard, with a colorful garden and a variety of trees. There was a pathway of cobblestones that led to the house; witch was big and very tradicional.

Walking in silence towards the house, your eyes flew around, trying to enjoy each glimpse of nature. It has been so long since you have seen so many different colors, vibrant even under the moonlight. You touch a few flowers, fingers brushing against the delicate petals; the smell of them cleans your mind, making a tiny smile tug on the corner of your lips.

However, as soon as your eyes drifted back to the house, the tiny smile died on your lips, sending you back to reality. Kokushibou was standing right in front of the porch, his hand was resting on his sword. You held your breath as you finally arrived at the house, bowing as soon as you were introduced.

Kokushibou studied you for a long moment before saying “Welcome, Y/N.”

#kokushibou #kokushibou x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny #sometimes i write

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