#and I have a tonne to wrap tonight to take to work this week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

floralseokjin · 4 years

Text

;club zombie (m)

In a world overrun by zombies, you’d think everyone was a goner, but the reality is much different. A steady diet of brains lets a zombie exist as a fully functioning human. Just ignore the part where they’re technically dead… In fact, these days, the amount of zombies outweigh the humans. A lot jump at the chance to be turned. Beg for it.

Kim Seokjin controls the underground of Seoul. No one would dare cross him. That’s how most of the world goes these days. You wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of a zombie now, would you? However, you don’t quite see it like that. Spending most nights dancing at the club he owns, you catch his eye. It’s never the wrong side if you’re underneath him, right…?

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; zombie! seokjin, mafia boss! seokjin, smut, oc has a ring kink (relatable), gets angsty two thirds in, some type of romance bc of course it gets fluffy towards the end lol words; 17,113

listen to; friction // 555

⇢ Part of the Deadly Intentions collaboration. With @btssmutgalore, @kpopfanfictrash, @underthejoon, @lamourche , @prolixitae and @taetaetrashhh, who organised the whole thing and created the moodboard!

Please forget everything you’ve ever known about most zombie portrayals in books, movies and tv series, because this is totally different. The idea and inspiration came from the television adaptation of iZombie. If you’ve watched it then you have a better vision of how the zombies in my story are portrayed. If not, then please just give it a go lol. It may sound wacky, but it’s Halloween! So here’s to the 🧟🍆!! I hope you enjoy!

You could hear Seokjin’s footsteps, boots clanking up the wooden stairs, and your stomach lurched in anticipation. He’d made you wait two frustratingly long hours, which was hell considering you hadn’t had time to be alone together all week. You were beyond excited for him to finally get his hands on you. Your body had long got used to craving him down to the very bone.

He came into sight, the image of you draped along his bed rooting him in his tracks. Your robe barely covered your modesty. Nipples visibly hard against the silk. Sometimes there was no need for underwear. Not when it got torn off most of the time. He needn’t waste his money anymore. You let a slow smirk stretch across your face. “How do you want me tonight, Sir?”

No need to greet him with a hello neither. What was the point? He’d told you to be in his home ready for him when he got back. Bedroom. He’d made that very specific. There was no need for pleasantries. Not when you knew greater ways to please him.

Him.

Kim Seokjin.

How did you get here again? So easily. So willingly. Like you’d wanted such a thing from the moment you’d laid your eyes on him. You had. Seokjin wasn’t your husband, nor boyfriend. He wasn’t even a casual hook up. In some ways he was more than any of the above. In others, he was less. It was an arrangement. The most simplest kind. Sex. With the city’s most dangerous man.

No one in Seoul would dare cross him. Hell, this whole country. Maybe it ran deeper than even that. No, what were you saying? It definitely did. You just didn’t want to know. You didn’t want to know the details. You didn’t even want to think about what they could be. To you, the man you shared yourself so openly with could never be what they all described him as. Not when he’d shared so much with you too. It was puzzling to think people actually feared him. He had never frightened you. In fact, you’d only ever known him as gentle. Even when he had his icy cold hands wrapped around your throat, fucking into you so hard his bed, amongst other things, were fit to break.

Yeah. This wasn’t the turn you thought your life would take. But then again, this world wasn’t exactly the same place it had been four years ago. The human race had to grow a thicker skin. Most changed completely. See, Seokjin wasn’t just your average crime lord. He was a rotter. So was over half the population.

Dead and rotten on the inside. Cold and smooth on the outside. The correct scientific term was Undead, but in simpler, more familiar terms, they were zombies. Not your average text fiction kind though. No flesh rots. No foul smell. No incoherent noises, that sent a bolt of terror and dread through your body. No, the undead were able to live as fully functioning humans for the most part. A reality that took a little while to make sense of, but as it did, the world everyone had known began to change. Drastically.

Unsure how it all started, although known to have been caused by some crazy scientist type, the disease, as it was called—now more of a lifestyle—had swept through most of America before their government and medicals could get to grips with it. It was as it was known in fiction. A zombie apocalypse. The whole world went into lockdown, flown into madness. Panic and strife were universal. The infected were destroyed and the potentially infected were quarantined. It was there they began to understand the infection.

The virus still burning through the veins of the innocent would be extremely difficult to handle. The were, by lack of knowledge back then, your “cannon” zombie. Unable to speak, unable to think, and their eyes sunken, black and lifeless. If given the chance, and some had been, they would tear at the flesh of the uninfected, feast on their brains. However, kept under a close eye, locked and controlled in a box room where they couldn’t see out but an array of people could see in, medicals soon discovered there were ways to quell the deep, ravenous need they had inside them. Portions. That was the key. Starved or gorged of human brain just turned them frenzied. The need as a fresh, baby zombie was insatiable but with a controlled diet the world became a little more normal again.

If you could ever call it normal. Human greed was at an all-time high. Who didn’t find it amazing that you could be a certified zombie while also retaining your human life? Who wouldn’t want to be dangerous? Feared? Who wouldn’t want to live potentially forever? The list went on, and that didn’t include countless governments’ motives. Soon the infection had spread willingly throughout the world. It caused fresh havoc. Some countries who hadn’t even wanted to get caught up in the mess, perished because they were too small or undeveloped. But most were smart, scheming. Here in the East a plan was concocted.

Somehow they found the individual who created the virus. Whether they went willingly or were forced no one would ever know. Their identity still remained a mystery even after all these years. Together some of the countries’ top scientists helped mutate the sickness into something “better”. Injected straight into the veins, there was no longer a fear of the infected losing control. The Undead were created. Just another form of human, but with a hunger for brains. It took a total of eighteen months for the world to be okay again.

Now that was all just a memory. Zombies were considered the norm, accepted into society long ago. A recent consensus found that just under 60% of the world’s population were undead. Humans the minority. They lived like humans, worked like humans and had families like humans. Although not in the traditional sense. The undead could still have sex. The men could still cum, by some grace of god, lucky them, but they were infertile. Women too. Reproductive system dead like the rest of them.

Of course, just because there were a lot of humane rotters, didn’t mean there weren’t bad ones amongst the mix. Like you said, humans were greedy. Mostly for power, and being a rotter in the right place, right time gave people tonnes of that. They weren’t truly immortal though. That was well known. A shot to their rotten brain would kill them. Nothing else. That’s where the infection resided.

To be turned there was a system. Applications, interviews, contracts…a waiting list for the injection that would alter your life forever. However, it didn’t work like that most of the time. The world wasn’t so perfect. Corrupt would be a better description. There were other, more simple, ways of turning. A bite or a scratch. Or even sexually transmitted within the first year of infection. There was nothing the government could do about it, and there were many illegal zombies rooming the country. And try all they might, no matter how many times, scientists couldn’t change the way infection took place.

They also couldn’t change the compulsion for brains. Yes, there was no lost control in the beginning, but starved of brains for too long, devolved them into the “cannon” zombie once again. It would take months of starvation, but after the deed was done, it was impossible to be reverted back. Thus they were destroyed. As you could guess, crime levels had not lowered. They had only gotten worse due to gluttony.

Donors now offered their brains up once dead, in a bid to keep portions up. There was complete control when it came to that, but again, that didn’t stop some rotters. Over the years, a lot more murder victims had been found missing a brain. But you digressed. It wasn’t all bad for the undead. They didn’t starve. They could still eat normal food, just oddly needed some extra spice. Their tastebuds has pretty much been destroyed after the turn, so hot sauce was their best friend. Scientists had also created “fake” brain. Think of it along the same vein as fake meat for vegetarians. A substitute. It didn’t give complete satisfaction, but it helped. In fact, they had quite an array of foods now, sold at any local convenience and grocery stores. For some reason brain sushi always made you laugh when you saw it. Surreal. Fast food stores had also caught on. Yes, Big Brain Mac was a thing now… What more did they want? As long as they had the real thing each month, life went on as normal.

They looked normal too. You’d forgotten to mention that one. Sometimes, with the help of hair dye and fake tan, they looked just like their past selves. There were a couple of giveaways though. If they weren’t high maintenance. Their eyes had changed an ice grey after the virus had taken hold, skin pale and cold, and hair turning white. Sometimes fully, but more often than not streaks or wisps of it. Oh, and their heart rate was ten beats per minute. They were dead after all. Pretty much. It was only when they lost themselves, did they turn into something horrific. Eyes black, sunken into their skull, cheeks gaunt, close to rotting. You’d heard they could also fall into a zombie trance when experiencing intense emotions. Depending on the situation it had different levels of severe. You had never seen this though. You knew very well, that was a benefit for certain zombies. A scare factor. Intimation factor. Like you said, there were many who used their rotter status for evil and crime…

Which put Seokjin in a very grey area.

He controlled the underground of this city. You hated using the word mafia, naïve to it all. Something fictional to you, but that’s exactly what was going on. An organised crime syndicate. The oldest son of a wealthy and corrupt family, Seokjin was always heir to the blood soaked throne. He was extremely powerful, even more so than the city’s law enforcement. Actually, you knew for a fact he worked side by side with them a lot of time. Probably called most of the shots. He’d been human in the beginning, when he’d first become in charge, not long before the virus began spreading, but of course that had soon changed. You’d heard stories of how his turn came to be, but you took those with a grain of salt. They were hearsay in your eyes. You’d never been one for rumours and gossip.

As it would have it, you’d only ever known him as undead. You started working at his club just over a year ago. How you got there wasn’t important, you just liked to dance, and dancing was a must at Club Zombie. Cheesy name, but it got the custom. It was almost a sort of tourist attraction. An after dark one. Humans and zombies alike. The dancers were both too. It could be a seedy place sometimes, but you didn’t mind dancing around a pole for men when their money was involved. The day was yours, the night was easy; just dancing, putting on a show. Besides, you were safe. Seokjin never let anything happen to the women that worked for him.

This was the place you could find him at the most, although strictly professional he never brought danger here. The rumours surrounding him were probably what made the club so popular to begin with. He wasn’t stupid. A zombie mob boss, what fiction was made of. Everyone lapped it up. Some nights he sat right up front, quite literally a throne on a podium, surveying the bar and dance platforms. It helped that he was extremely good looking. Got the humans with a kink all riled up. Such soft, movie star looks when you truly studied him. Jarring in a way. A white streak running along the front of his dark hair, parted at the forehead reminded you of what he was. That and his cold, grey eyes.

It was working at Club Zombie where he soon began to take an interest in you. It was glances your way at first. When you made your way to the dressing rooms, or more often than not, when your eyes met as you danced and twisted around the pole. You wouldn’t admit it back then, but it did send a thrill up your spine, fresh confidence washing over you. Even more so when the glances turned to smiles. They could be better described as flirtatious smirks if you didn’t know any better. Because why would anyone like Seokjin want you? He had this whole city at his feet. You were a no one. No, you were imagining the signs. He might’ve not even been looking at you.

But he was. Or course he was. You just couldn’t believe it. Not until one night when he’d asked you to join him for a drink. Halloween night, to be precise. Not that you cared for the holiday. It was just another day.

You were the last one to leave the club. Usually the first, you’d misplaced your cell phone. Took you twenty minutes to find it, fallen behind one of the sofas in the dressing room when you’d flung your jacket down in a hurry not a few hours ago. You were in a hurry when you made your way across the bar, heading for the exit, hand in your purse trying to now find your car keys. You didn’t want to keep Yunho, the barman, waiting any longer. But he wasn’t the one left.

Seokjin was stood behind the bar when you looked up at the call of your name. A peculiar sight. In all the time you’d been here you hadn’t once seen that. The fact he knew your name was even more mindboggling. You opened your mouth to apologise to him, presuming that was why he was asking for your attention, but you got no where. Not when the question he asked stunned you to silence.

“Care to join me for night cap?”

You weren’t one for drinking, never had been funnily enough, but you ended up agreeing. You told yourself it was because he was the boss. You couldn’t say no to him, but the racing of your heart as you sat down argued it was something different.

He drank straight whisky, poured you a glass of rosé you didn’t request. Did he see you as that kind of drinker? Classy. Unless it wasn’t classy at all because you knew nothing about alcohol. You thought he’d stay behind the bar, lord of the house, but to your surprise he came out to meet you. You heart beat even faster when he sat on the stool next to you. You prayed hard that rotters didn’t have an acute sense of hearing. Your knowledge was failing you, but logically, going by that dumb fucking fiction, you’d have to assume they did. He knew you were nervous mess right now. How embarrassing.

He bared his teeth and made a wincing sound as he took a swig of his drink. It was nice to know the burn still affected him, and you watched him tilt the tumbler this way and that, staring at the swirling amber liquid as he did so. Maybe he was giving you time to relax. Maybe he just wanted to sit in silence. Who knew. His rings clanked against the crystallised glass. He always wore them. Large silver bands, dark coloured jewels encased in the centre. He had beautiful hands now that you saw them up close. Wrists too. His shirt sleeves rolled up to the middle of his veiny forearms. The watch he wore was more expensive than anything you’d earn in five years. Maybe a lifetime. You were clueless.

Momentarily distracted, it took you those five minutes to realise you’d never so much as had one conversation with him. He was mostly the untouchable boss who was more like a statue to awe over than a person to share friendlies with. There were other men who worked closely for him here, woman too. Those were who you went to if there was a problem. A drunken customer. A shift you couldn’t make. An emergency you had to leave early for. In fact, even when you had gotten this job it wasn’t by his judgement. So this made the exchange even more awkward considering you’d never said so much as two words to him. You sipped on your wine for something to do. The taste wasn’t all that bad actually.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

You had been so used to the silence you jumped a little from your seat at the sound of his voice. He sounded curious, and you glanced his way to see him giving you his full attention now. Body angled to you; eyes so intense they made you a little unnerved. Fuck. He’d definitely heard the racing of your heart then. Mistaken it for something else.

“Afraid? No.” You decided to be honest. Or at least as honest as you could be. He didn’t need to know you were even more unsteady now than you had been not ten minutes ago. All because of…thoughts, that had entered your mind upon noticing his long, deft fingers. Not that you knew they were skilled, but it was just a hunch. You shrugged in what you hoped was a casual manner. Voice straining to be very much the same. “My nail technician is a zombie. My running buddy at the gym. My doctor.”

To your surprise he chuckled. Deeply amused by something. “I didn’t mean that.” Oh. Had you misunderstood? How embarrassing. “Are you afraid of me because of who I am?”

You blinked slowly. His status. That was what he was referring to. You slowly shook your head, making sure to hold his gaze as you replied. “No.” You shocked even yourself, because you really did mean it. Maybe you were reckless. Your parents had always said such words. You were drawn to the unknown. The excitement got you giddy, but this—he—was something new.

Your idea of living life on the edge was dancing in hardly anything, not warming to a man who discussed crime over breakfast like it was nothing. Did God knows what when he wasn’t sitting in this club.

He nodded in almost confirmation. “Thought not. Just wanted to be sure.” He spoke with a certainty. Like he already knew this information before you did. What vibes were you giving off here? Or was he always this confident and sure when it came to assuming others’ thoughts and feelings…

“Why?” It came out slightly more accusing than you meant it to.

It took him a moment to answer, taking a swig of his whiskey again. You thought he was going to ignore it all together. In a way he did. “Did you know that any human who fucks a rotter in the first year of their transformation gets infected too?”

You took a moment to let that sink in. The casualness of his tone cut with the crude language took you by surprise. You swallowed. “I did.” Everyone did. It was the largest cause of illegal turning. Even a condom wouldn’t save you.

He scoffed in amazement. “It’s amazing how biology works, even for someone dead like me.”

When someone described themselves as dead it never ceased to blow your mind. It was hard to believe that someone as handsome as Seokjin was rotten to the core on the inside. Black and decaying. You let a wry smile play at the corners of your mouth, replying before you took another mouthful of your drink. “This world isn’t what it used to be.”

He didn’t bother to agree, instead taking a moment of silence before he hit you with another question. “Did you also know that we don’t have any sexual urges for a while after we’ve been turned?”

This time it took you everything to hold it together. The shock close to becoming visible on your face. You suddenly thought of every time he had glanced your way in the past few weeks. Each smile he had given you. Just like the one he was giving you now as he waited for your reply. “I heard it varies from r-zombie to zombie.”

You stopped yourself at the R for Rotter. Yes, he had used the word not moments before, but it was always such a grey area. Mostly used as a derogatory term, by humans—usually the older generation—who couldn’t get their small, little brains around the reality of the world today, it had become increasingly popular over the past couple of years. Now, it was just accepted. Like everything else this day and age.

“Correct.” He continued to smile. If he noticed your slip-up he didn’t care to mention it. “This may be TMI but mine’s only recently appeared again.” Something squeezed in your gut. “A few months ago. Maybe longer. I don’t know. With work and the stress I think I ignored it for longer than I should have.”

“Oh.” That was… Yes, it was fact all sexual desire left when first turned. Most for a couple of months, maybe a little longer. You didn’t know the ins and outs, but three years seemed steep. He was a busy man, it made sense, but… Fuck. Who were you kidding? You were just distracting yourself with nonsense now. Anything to not have to acknowledge what was really going on here. But you had to. “Not to be rude Mr. Kim, but why are you telling me this?”

No one, and you mean no one, called him by his first name. Not anyone you knew anyway. It was easy to see him as none other than Seokjin, your Seokjin, now thinking back, but a few months ago he was just your boss with the intimating aura. The one who wouldn’t dare be interested in you. That all changed that fateful night.

His lips curled. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be friendly or if he was greatly amused. Maybe both. “Seokjin. Call me Seokjin.”

You swallowed. His name felt foreign on your tongue, but you needed to press on. You needed him to confirm the hunch now coiled in your chest. “Seokjin, why are you telling this?”

A beat of silence followed. He actually glanced away from you as he went to speak. “I’m incredibly attracted to you.” You let out a shaky breath, unsure you could say anything back even if you tried. He chuckled awkwardly. Such a human reaction. You found your heart warming. “Forgive me. I’m rusty at this.”

He sounded way out of his depth, which was incredibly amusing for someone like him. You wondered how long he had been thinking of confessing this. How long he’d been trying… He’d taken his chance tonight.

“You’ve noticed me staring a lot?” His eyes were back on you now. You didn’t know if you were imagining it, but the harshness of the grey had begun to soften. The coldness, warming up.

“Yes,” you murmured. Your throat felt dry. You wouldn’t have described it as staring, but to say you hadn’t noticed would be an outright lie.

“I just can’t take my eyes off you,” he admitted with a slight sigh. “I love watching you dance because it’s the only form of interaction I have with you.” Without realising, you squeezed your legs together. Your face was flushing, you could feel the heat prickle your skin.

“My view gets obstructed a lot of the time, or my attention is needed elsewhere but I always try...” He cleared his throat. “I always try to admire you.”

His words bloomed against your skin, sending a warmth all over you. Call you weak, it didn’t matter. An attractive man was complimenting you. You did not question him. He was short and to the point with his words. No sugar-coating. You admired that.

You smirked his way, confidence washing over you. In a way, you felt like you had the upper hand here. He was the one who had confessed in uncertainty. “You should get better seats for the show.”

His eyes widened a little in shock at your brazenness. You’d surprised him, and his mouth stretched into a grin, a bewildered laugh leaving him as his browline furrowed. It was a glorious sound. “I really don’t scare you? Disgust you?”

“Of course not.” You replied so surely it would be difficult to doubt you. Maybe you were stupid. Maybe this was all part of his masterplan, but there was a small self-destructive part of you that didn’t even care. “Would I be working here otherwise?”

“You got me there,” he silked. Gaze holding yours.

The most deepest of desires began to come alive inside of you. Swirling around in your gut. Desires you’d held at bay because it was laughable to think you’d ever be in with a chance with someone like him. And perhaps a larger part of you was ashamed by your longings. Kim Seokjin was a bad person by definition. It didn’t matter how charming he was. How potentially misunderstood he was, or how secretly sensitive he was. Romanticised theories that should make you sick at yourself. This was wrong, a small voice whispered furiously in the back of your head, but when had that ever stopped you?

You hesitated but went for it anyway. It was too late. You’d made your decision. “If we’re confessing things... You’re way too pretty to be as dangerous as you are.” Half a glass of wine and you were already losing yourself.

He cocked a black, perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Pretty? That’s a new one.” He chuckled quietly before making a joke. “These genes come from my mom.” Such a normal thing to say. You wanted to believe he was just like anyone else. Or maybe you truly didn’t care…

“Mr. K–Seokjin,” you corrected yourself quickly. The concept of being on first name terms would take a while to get used to. You took a breath and went for it, fingers reaching for his hand that held his whiskey. What did you have to lose? His lust for you was real. The ball was in your court.

You circled patterns against the skin between his thumb and index finger. It was stone cold. A sensation you were still not too used to, or maybe it was because this touch meant so much more. Despite the ice, he was marble smooth. You looked at his face. True beauty. He was staring right back at you, holding his breath, waiting for you. Hunger roared inside your body now. You tried your best to keep it under control.

“I know it’s out of hours and I’m not really dressed for it anymore but... I could dance for you right now if you like?”

You tilted your head to match your question. He copied, giving you a small smile, tone teasing when he spoke. Low and oddly soothing. “Private dances aren’t allowed.”

“You’re the boss. You make the rules.” You watched him hesitate, mulling your suggestion over in his head. It was actually kind of cute. Had he not expected you to accept his advances so easily?

He pulled his hand from the tumbler, his fingers gingerly reaching for yours and you clasped onto them. “Mm?” You prodded, watching him all the way. He gave you a tight nod, and that was all you needed to continue.

Rising up from your seat and leaving your purse at the foot of the stool, he followed you as you guided him by the hand to a set of centre red plush sofas. They curled around a small table, in perfect view of the largest stage. Not two hours ago this place had been filled to the brim, this section worth a hell of a lot of money considering where it was placed, but now his club was empty, safe for you and him. The reminder sent a thrill up you.

You slowly pushed him down to sit, hand on his chest before you let go and stood over him. A grin on your face. “Best seat in the house. No obstructed view.”

He didn’t reply, but the look on his face was almost giddy. You spun on your feet, back to him as you slinked away, towards the centre pole, kicking off your shoes. You didn’t get much of a chance to dance with it, this place saved for the ones who had been here longer. So this was an added excitement.

“This would be highly unprofessional in business hours,” he called after you. His laughter fizzling off when you began to lift your sweater over your head. “What are you doing?”

You turned back to him, a shy smile on your face. “I can’t entertain you in this.” You threw the mustard knit to the floor. “Will it do?”

He scoffed. Eyes a little wide, pupils starting to blow out. “You could be in anything. I wouldn’t mind.”

You appreciated the sentiment, but you didn’t know if you agreed. You’d removed the showy lingerie you’d been wearing tonight in favour of something more comfortable; a black cotton bralette, and you still had your leggings on as you gripped the pole with both hands. It wasn’t your best outfit, but you hoped it sufficed.

How odd it was to swing and grind in front of your boss. A man you hadn’t had anything to do with until tonight. Dancing to no music was strange, too. You had to imagine the beats and sounds in your head, praying you didn’t look too wooden, but somehow it began to feel increasingly intimate. Seokjin was a silent spectator, but it didn’t bring you a sense of unease. Excitement coursed through your veins, but you didn’t dare look at him while you moved. This was a reality you still couldn’t get your head around.

You didn’t know how long you were at it for, lost to the soundless rhythm, but soon enough you needed to catch your breath. He was still sat where you placed him but his eyes were fully black now, trained on your figure. As if in a trance It took a moment for him to notice you had stopped. His legs were spread open, giving you a very great eyeful of his crotch. A couple of buttons on his dress shirt lied open that weren’t before. It gave him an almost bedraggled look. You say almost, because his hair was still perfectly parted at his forehead. You suddenly had the mental image of your fingers running through it, tugging at the ends as he fucked you into the very sofa he sat on. You blinked away the dirty thought, taking a few deep breaths.

He also blinked, albeit slowly, outstretching one hand to beckon you. “Come here.” He croaked; voice thick with something that made you burn up.

You smirked. “That’s against the rules.” Private dances were strictly forbidden.

“Am I not the boss?” That was so. You laughed, and obeyed instantly, descending the metal steps to make your way to him. “You move exquisitely,” he complimented as you did so. His voice a little more human now. His eyes however, were anything but. Close now, inches apart, you saw the light grey that ringed the dilated pupils. It made him look unreal. Showed him for he really was. Undead. However, fear was the last thing on your mind.

“Can I touch you?”

“I thought you made the rules?” This back and fore only thickened the desire in the room, but you truly did appreciate his manners. That, and you really wanted him to touch you. You wanted to touch him too.

Straddling him slowly, your knees pressing into the soft velvet of the sofa, his cold hands met your waist and you jumped in shock, giggling in reaction. He did nothing but hold on as you attempted to dance atop of him. You say attempted, because you were basically grinding on him by now. You wrapped your arms around his neck, loving the way his breathing was laboured. Chest rising and falling visibly.

You felt his erection quickly begin to from under you, and it wasn’t long before he acknowledged it. In his own way, of course. “Forgive me for being inappropriate.” He apologised in advance. You held your breath in curiosity. “But have you ever fucked a rotter?”

With a lack of oxygen you replied instantly. “No.”

He swallowed. His dick twitched in his expensive slacks. “Are you opposed to it?”

You replied with only truth, confidence and desire. “Not if you’re the one in question.”

The noise that tore from his throat was nothing you’d ever heard before. A man starved, finally given the chance of relief. He flew at your mouth, movements hasty and rough. You gladly matched them. Everything was cold, something you weren’t used to at all. Not like this anyway. His tongue like ice ran along your own, both wet but drastic in temperature. It was a contrast that sent your nerves into overdrive. Sensitivity at its highest peak. You clung to his shoulders, rolling your palms over the thick flesh and muscle, as you moaned quite shamelessly into his mouth.

His hands found your face, gripping you tight as he continued to kiss you furiously. You were close to burning up, heart pounding in your chest at your new reality. A groan from him puzzled your mind as he tore away. “Not here. Not yet,” he rasped, lips wet because of you. He tried to keep him distance but failed, falling into your mouth once again to taste you. “I won’t fuck you in a place like this. You deserve better than that.”

You clung to him now, deflation beginning to drop to your gut. You were riled up, ready for him, he couldn’t take it away now. Not when he was solid between your spread legs. You gasped when he took your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging it carefully. Everyone knew the dangers of a zombies’ teeth. One false move and it was game over. The risk just seemed to turn you on all the more. You were sick. Sick for him.

“But I want you so bad. I want to make you feel all the pleasure in the world,” he divulged. He sounded so passionate, so desperate, fresh waves of longing and need flooded your body. Heat pooled against his cock. “Will you let me do that right now? Just a little bit?”

“Yes,” you practically exclaimed. Overcome and out of breath. You didn’t know what that request pertained but you would take anything for even the slightest bit of relief.

You had a better understanding once you found yourself under his large, solid body. Spread out on the velvet like your tainted mind had imagined not fifteen minutes previous. He kissed down your neck, lapping at the skin like you could fill him up. A sensation that had your eyes closing, feeling powerless but loving it. Even more so when you felt him between your breasts. It was a wonderful fusion; to be boiling hot but feel his cool, marble touch all over your body. His hands roamed you, familiarising himself with the woman’s body. Every bump, curve and dip, your soft moans encouraging him, until he couldn’t take anymore.

You pulsed when you felt his long fingers curl behind the waistband of your leggings. “Can I take these off?” He looked you straight in the eyes as he spoke, as if he was reading your face for any hesitation. There was none. You nodded firmly, a trembled ‘yes’ leaving your throat.

He pulled you forward in one swift motion, propping you up against the plush backrests. He was out of breath, jaw slack and eyes still practically black as he crouched, beginning to tug down the black fabric, your legs thrown over one of his shoulders. You didn’t realise he’d strip you of your underwear too. You were very naked, very quickly. Your bra the only thing left.

“Beautiful.” He uttered, eyes between your legs before he looked up at you. “You’re beautiful.”

You smiled at him, something he couldn’t seem to be able to bear, because he was on your mouth again in a flash. He kissed you greedily, low moans escaping him in regular sequence. Spoiled, he made his way down your chest, finding the swell of your breasts to flirt between. It wasn’t long before the fabric was pulled down, one nipple in his mouth while he rubbed the other with the pad of his thumb. That had you moaning, your legs wrapping around his hips to keep him latched to you. Cramped on the sofa, cramped under his body, but loving it. Pleasure swirled and grew heavy in your stomach. Arousal beginning to pool between your legs. It wasn’t long before you were grinding yourself against his body uncontrollably, desperate for some relief down south.

He pulled away when you began whining, teeth lightly grazing the flushed peak as he went. You gasped. Maybe it really was the danger that turned you wanton. Seokjin grinned your way as he sunk to his knees on the floor. He knew it too. He was already learning. You watched with bated breath as he spread your legs, giving him a very intimate view. You’d be self-conscious by now, maybe even uncomfortable, but not tonight. Not with him.

You pulsed against his thumb as he touched you, and all you could do was watch as he carefully began to rub at your clitoris, feeling it engorge beneath his cold touch. You moaned softly, hips circling ever so slightly, enjoying the almost cruel pleasure. Your arousal spread, wet noises squelching under his skin, lewd in your ears.

He looked up at you, eyes black, ringed silver grey. They made you shiver. So did his words. “Can I taste you?” His hair had become out of place, finally, falling in his eyes, and you reached for it, running the white and black strands through your fingers before nodding.

He dived straight in, those plump, almost blue-red lips encompassing your clit. You gasped as he sucked, pushing into him and clutching his hair in your fist. His cool tongue laved you almost hesitantly at first, searching for what you liked and what made you moan, until he grew confidence. You forgot he was familiarising himself again after so long. Hazy with lust, his movements weren’t calculated. They were made with haste and a fervent urge; hands wrapping around the underside of your thighs to hold them and pull you closer. Letting him feast until his heart content.

He only pulled away to catch his breath, minutes later, face from the nose down shining with a colourless substance. The same substance coated the heat between your legs and apex of your thighs. Probably stained the sofas too. You were sticky and burning up. Not even the the touch of his cool finger could control it as he ran the digit down your folds. He stopped at your entrance, tip pushing in slowly. You throbbed around nothing, desperate to be filled. He noticed of course, and he made to remove his rings.

You stopped him. “Keep them on.” You’d already felt the cool metal of his rings against the inside of your thigh when he’d been enamoured with your centre and everything it had to offer. You wanted more. A hell of a lot more.

He raised his brows in surprise, pausing before shrugging. “Anything for you.” You tried to suppress your moan as he pushed his index finger inside you, palm up, cold metal pressed against your swollen folds. He shifted closer, curling the digit against your velvet-like walls. He seemed to like the feeling, humming to himself, before he studied your face closely. “When was the last time someone had you like this?”

You cocked an eyebrow, smirking. “What? Like this specifically? In this bar, spread out naked on the VIP suite? Never.”

He gave a low chuckle. It shot through your body. “You think you’re funny.” You tried snarking him back but he slipped a second finger inside you, straightening them as he went. “No but,” he began, slowing thrusting them in and out. Your jaw grew slack as you watched him, the quietest of strained moans leaving you. “I just want to know how many people I have to contend with.”

That made you laugh. But fine, if he was so curious. “It’s been a while. Nearly a year.” You’d been single since then, your last relationship ending badly, and hook up culture wasn’t what it was since the virus. You smirked his way. “So, no one at all.”

“That’s great for me then.” He laughed heartily, almost as if he wasn’t three knuckles deeps inside you, and wasting no time getting intimate between your legs again.

You came hard. Shaking all over when he finally relented his tongue. Covered in a sheen of sweat and out of breath. He continued the movement of his fingers at his leisure, looking up between your body. The tips of his hair were wet and clung together. It wasn’t him—the undead incapable of sweating—but your arousal, which he seemed to be unable to get enough of. In all honesty, it seemed it he was unable to get enough of you full stop. Still determined to please you.

He shot his fingers deep, ripping a moan from your chest as your back curled. “You’re still sucking me in. What a greedy cunt you have.” Your burned at his crude words, squeezing around his fingers. “Do you consider yourself greedy?” He spoke low and calm, but you could hear the slight quiver to his voice. It made you feel powerful. You hated that word. Greed. But for him… It was different.

“If it’s for a pleasure like that, then yes,” you laughed breathlessly.

He tutted, curling his fingers along the ridges of your insides. Coaxing you. Enjoying the way your lower body contorted. “You flatter me. I would say I’ve reverted to novice status again after all these years.”

You didn’t think so. Unless that was the reality of someone like Kim Seokjin between your legs. He got you coming so good, better than you had in a long time, so maybe it was both options shared. “Somethings you never forget,” you told him simply.

He didn’t reply, instead rising up, kneeling on the edge of the sofa instead. You lifted your legs to accommodate him. His fingers got deeper and you tightened around them again. “I’m greedy too, you know?” He almost warned, his free hand gripping the back of your neck to tilt your head. Ice. He was speaking as he held his breath, moaning slightly when you did. “I want you to cum again. Please.” He always remembered his manners, even when impatient.

You faltered. You didn’t know if you could. Yes, it still felt good to have him inside of you, but you were too exhausted to go again surely. He leant over your body, caging you with his solid one as he murmured into your ear. “I want the visual ingrained in my mind forever.” He snapped his wrist hard against you. The pleasure made your eyes roll back.

“O-kay–!” You gasped out, nodding your head eagerly, gripping onto his shoulders. It was a big fuck you to the exhaustion. You wanted to cum again too.

Your body withstood his vicious pace, walls clamping down on him every time he thrusted into you. You were hot and sweaty again, held down by his large build, which only added to your delight. You imagined he was fucking you. Desperate for the real thing.

“You trust me a lot,” he mused, your hands in his hair now. It was surprising to you that he let you touch it like this. You looked at him curiously, wondering what he could mean, and felt his movements slow. You realised just how hard you’d been holding your breath, gasping for it at the tiniest of reprieve. “One accidental scratch and that’s it, game over. You’re one of me.” He spoke in an almost disarming whisper. It did not frighten you.

You moaned at the dragging of his fingers, before smiling lazily. “You’re not so foolish.” You’d already taken note that his fingernails were perfectly trimmed when you’d admired his hands at the bar.

“Maybe not. But in other ways…” he drawled off, lips millimetres from yours. You wanted him to kiss you so bad. “I enjoyed being a fool between your legs. On my knees…” You moaned softly, enjoying his words, eyes still glued to his mouth. It moved away; your chest grew heavy in disappointment.

“Would you get on your knees for me?”

His question had you squeezing again. The smirk told you he felt it. “Right now?” You asked, maybe a little too eager.

“No.” He laughed. “Not right now. Tonight is about you. But next time...”

You took a shaky breath and nodded. “Gladly.”

“Good girl,” he smiled at you. The praise went to your head, somewhere else too, and he let go of your neck, readjusting himself to begin picking up the pace again. You watched down your body, lifting your folded legs nearer your chest so you could have a better look at his hand as it pleasured you. His veiny forearm tensing with the force of his thrusts. You were so wet you glistened in the overhead lighting—so did the dark jewel on one of his rings—and you squelched noisily around his fingers, sucking him in over and over again. Greedy, you were.

“Fuck.” Seokjin cursed under his breath, distracting you, and you found his eyes were locked between your legs too. Mesmerised. “Delectable, as ripe as a peach…” It didn’t take you much longer to cum again. You felt sorry to whoever would sit in the VIP lounge tomorrow night.

Afterwards, once you’d both calmed down—you, dressed but still quite shaky, and he, now composed but hair still in disarray—he asked if you’d accompany him for dinner at his house next time he was free. You agreed quite instantly. You knew what it meant, and you needed it. Needed him. You also agreed when he insisted he’d arrange for a car to take you home that night. You had your own, but you’d had something to drink, regardless how small, and that just didn’t sit right with him. He’d get someone to drop off your vehicle the next morning.

Before you left, he bid you goodnight with a kiss to the cheek and thanked you for a lovely night, emphasising just how much he was looking forward to dinner with you soon. Just the thought had you up for hours when you found yourself in bed, alone, but still warm and sated from your two orgasms.

Seokjin’s house was stunning. A far cry from from your dingy apartment on the tenth floor of an ancient tower block. You were used to it now, but back then you had felt very out of place in such a beautiful home. He arranged for a car to pick you up, very much like the one that had dropped you off home four nights ago. A sleek black thing, with darkened windows. You didn’t know the name, a car was a car, but again, way out of your league. Four days was a short time in someone else’s perspective, but to you it had dragged by. Especially having to see him every night since while you danced in the club. Glances and knowing smirks just made it harder. You understood though, he was a busy man. He called you in the morning, apologising for the short notice, but he’d found a break in his schedule. If you agreed not to be at the club tonight, he could arrange dinner at his place.

You hadn’t hesitated. Had been preparing all day. The longest soak in the bath you could manage without turning into udon. You even brought the wax strips out. Found the most elegant dress you owned in the back of your closet. A blood red, floor length piece.

His phone call had felt very formal, but that was him all over, you had only just started finding out. You weren’t 100% sure, but the 0.1% didn’t matter… You were going to have sex together tonight. The thought made you giddy. It was only the shock of his house that distracted you as you stepped inside. Large and elegantly decorated, it did not look at all like you’d imagined. Not that you’d tried to. It was impossible to wonder what an undead mobster’s home would look like, but as a bachelor, it definitely wasn’t this. It almost seemed lonely to have just one person living here. You kept those thoughts to yourself though and let him lead you into the lounge, where, and you assumed this, a butler of some kind handed you a glass of champagne. This was not your world.

He even had members of staff to cook for him. Food you knew for a fact belonged in michelin starred restaurants. His dining room was grand, the beautifully carved mahogany table able to fit six people. Perhaps this place was once his family home. It made sense. He sat at the head, while you were placed directly opposite him. The distance was a little unnerving, but he was able to converse in small talk exceptionally well. It was lighthearted and casual, and soon eased you up.

You found it intriguing when he doused everything he ate in hot sauce, unable to stop yourself from giggling and he looked up, confusion etched in his features before he realised what had amused you so. You had no idea the need was that bad.

“Nothing tastes good without a little kick,” he explained, putting the bottle down. “Even the brains.”

You laughed. “You must go through hot sauce by the gallon.”

He smiled before reaching for his glass of red wine. “Me being a rotter really doesn’t phase you, does it?” He still seemed to be unable to get over the surprise.

You gave him a small shrug, picking up your cutlery. “It’s the world we live in now.” You sounded like a broken record. That was your explanation for everything.

You waited for him to continue the conversation. There was a pause and then– “Thanks to your father.”

You froze, an instant sense of dread filling you at the casual remark. You swallowed, looking across at Seokjin. “H-how did you know?”

He raised a perfect eyebrow as he brought the glass to his mouth. You watched half the red liquid disappear. The clank as he put it down on the wood made you flinch, and your heart thudded as you waited for his reply. He gave you smile. It didn’t seem fully loaded. “Is that you undermining my power?”

Whatever his intentions were you panicked regardless. “No, I just–”

“Don’t worry, this isn’t some kind of trick. Some kind of revenge...” He interrupted with a quick chuckle. Relief flooded you. Not that you had thought such things explicitly, but Seokjin was the man he was… Your lust hadn’t made you forget that much. He had found out what you’d spent the last three years or so trying to hide after all…

“I have brought you here to fuck.” Despite your alarm, something squeezed in your gut and pulsed between your legs at his frankness. “I’m just curious... You hide it well. Why?”

Unsure what to do, you took a mouthful of food. The chewing letting you think for a moment. Did you really want to divulge your family affairs with him? He was a man of few words and considering what he was—dangerous and undead—you couldn’t be sure to trust his intentions. Maybe you’d made a mistake coming here. Letting his words and actions cajole you.

“Good?” He asked, watching you eat.

You looked at him and nodded. Wiping your face with the napkin placed on your lap you decided to give him some of the details. Not all. “It’s not something I want to be associated with.”

Seokjin frowned. “You don’t agree?”

You shook your head. That had come out wrong. “I don’t agree with my parents’ greed.”

When the zombie virus had hit four years ago your father, a highly gifted scientist, had been one of the first to try and recreate it. To produce something better. For what, you didn’t quite understand. He had no desire to turn himself or his family. No, you guessed it was for the fame, the money…the glory… In the end, it took a number of people to create such a thing, but yes, he’d been one of them… Your mother had been so proud. Sick. That was still what you thought now. Turning the world into undead creatures who needed human brains to survive seemed utterly bizarre. Disturbing… But like you said, the glory seemed to be their fuel…

You hadn’t spoke to either of them in two years and prior to that, conversations were few and far between. To cut them out of your life hadn’t been a sudden decision though. Your whole life you’d always felt like you didn’t belong. Born to the wrong family. Maybe that was a problem with you. An issue you didn’t want to give much thought about, but one thing was for certain, you didn’t think anything like them. You’d spend most of your life rebelling. Maybe you were still doing so… The club you worked at would see them foaming at the mouth. You, surrounded by the people your father helped create. And Seokjin… Seokjin was a man your parents would be horrified to see you with. That thought brought you great pleasure.

“You don’t get along?” You shook you head in reply. Surprisingly it was enough for him. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” Or maybe he already knew that… He probably knew everything about you. He’d been humouring you all this time. For some reason that didn’t scare you like it should’ve. It was quite reassuring to know that despite everything, you were the one he wanted. Maybe your self esteem was shot to pieces. Maybe you were just an idiot.

You smiled. “Thanks.”

He jerked his head towards the direction of your plate. “Let’s not get distracted for too long. Dinner is getting cold.”

You ate with more small talk. He asked if you’d ever been out the country and when you’d replied yes, he insisted that you tell him all about Japan, like he’d never been there before. Maybe he hadn’t… You didn’t ask. In all honestly, you were positive he was trying his best to relax you again after his slight interrogation. It was endearing.

Once dinner was done and his staff had taken the used dishes away, you suddenly remembered what was to come next. You began to feel a little out of your depth. The night at the club had happened out of the blue, but this was pre-planned. Nerves itched at your skin, just wondering how this would go down now, but that didn’t mean you weren’t excited. Giddy.

“You really do look so beautiful tonight.” He praised quietly, admiring you from across the table. He had already told you that when he’d greeted you at his door, but you would never get enough. “I feel a little underdressed.”

You scoffed. “You look perfect. As always.” He was always found in a suit, so his attire for tonight was nothing new. Apart from the velvet suit jacket he wore. It was fancy, something you could never imagine him gracing the club with, and the cream embroidered shirt underneath suited him beautifully. His hair tonight was swept above his forehead, accentuating his breath-taking bone structure.

He closed his eyes as he smiled in silent thanks. When they opened you noticed they were getting darker, grey almost unnoticeable from where you sat. You suddenly thought about him between your legs. You squeezed them together under the table, trying to quell your dirty thoughts. You think he noticed, or maybe he was remembering back too.

“I’m surprised you can’t feel it,” he mused on cue.

“Feel what?” You sounded slightly shaky. Out of breath.

“My need for you is practically raging from my body,” he explained simply.

Something heavy dropped into your gut. Confidence began to wash over you again. It was nice to feel this powerful. “You hide it well.”

“Do I?” He laughed. “I must have more self control than I give myself credit for. I’ve been agitated ever since that night… Unable to stop imagining getting my hands on you again.”

You let out a tremble of a breath. More images flew around the forefront of your mind. The coldness of his hands caressing your body. The ice of his tongue inside your mouth, against your skin, laving against your… You closed your eyes, unable to cope. He murmured your name softly. As if he was desperate for you to look his way again. You obeyed. “I’m so incredibly attracted to you.”

You could hear your heart thudding against your ribcage. It almost felt strange, like it didn’t belong to you. When you chuckled, it didn’t sound like you either. Your lust for him was taking over. Time was nearing. “You already said, Seokjin.” You liked the sound of his name as it curled off your tongue.

He chuckled back. “Am I boring you? I thought flattery would be first protocol.”

You continued to laugh at his choice of words, shaking your head. “There’s no need. I’m here, aren’t I?”

He held your stare. It was almost like he was staring inside of you. “That you are.” He sounded like he still couldn’t believe his luck. He rolled his shoulders. “Well. I can still say what I like. It’s all true. I’m not trying to manipulate you here.” You chose to believe him. “Although... You don’t look like someone who falls victim to such things.” You shrugged, playing it casual. Maybe he was correct. You’d long stopped giving men the power to get inside your mind. You hoped it would hold with Seokjin.

“I’ll cut to the chase then.” He continued, realising you weren’t going to divulge anything that could confirm his assumptions. “One night won’t be enough. I want to enter a sexual relationship with you.”

Your eyes widened. Surprise visible on your face no doubt. Call you naïve, maybe clueless, but that possibility hadn’t crossed your mind. A one off was all you’d imagined. Seokjin had thirsted after you for months now, it seemed. Until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. In your head, one night would have been enough for him. What was so special about you? It seemed ludicrous he’d want something permanent. Taken aback, all you could do was listen to him.

“These,” he paused, “urges I have, they’ve been suppressed for far too long. I have curiosities. Maybe they’ve always been there, morphing with the passing months...years.” He shrugged, and you wondered why he had stifled himself for so long. You also wondered why you. Why were you so special? “It wasn’t until I noticed you that these thoughts...fantasies, became unbearable.”

You took his words like they were information at a business meeting. In fact, he was talking to you like such. It was strange. He was talking about imagining fucking you most probably, and here you were just nodding your head. You squeezed your legs under the table again. You were hot. Your excitement was building again and you were trying your best to control yourself. This wasn’t normal. You shouldn’t be here, but your desire for him seemed to have crept up and snaked its way around your throat.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you but I need things to be in black and white.”

“I understand.”

“You do?” He raised both eyebrows in surprise. You felt powerful with the knowledge you kept proving him wrong. “Your pleasure is my utmost importance. All of my fantasies include you enjoying yourself. Rest assured. However,” he looked down at the table. Was he flustered? Feeling awkward? How unusual. “There are some things I want to indulge in that aren’t to everyone’s taste. I do not wish to trap or force you into anything. If you don’t agree, then that’s that. No hard feelings. This isn’t a sweet or romantic joining. I don’t know if I’m truly capable of that…”

You puzzled in your head. What an odd thing to say. You hadn’t so much as thought about this being anything about romance. You knew where you stood. You hoped he wasn’t assuming that’s what you thought. You’d given up on love and romance a long fucking time ago. “I don’t expect it to be,” you added, wanting it to be clear.

He paused, smiled slightly and then chucked. “Then you understand I have this animalistic need to take you any which way I’m allowed.” He made sure your eyes were locked when he spoke. So he could see your reaction. It was hard tying to keep your expression neutral as you imagined just as he’d said. The corner of your mouth definitely twitched. Of course he saw. You could tell by the way he tried to suppress his smirk.

“I can be patient if you need more time.” He continued. “I am very much insistent that it’s you—there is no one else—however, if you disagree or discover I bring you no joy, I expect one day I’ll find another.” You admired his honesty. “Also. Selfish of me I know, but if you agree then there must be no other sexual partners during our attachment. Please.” “Seokjin...” You began, guessing he’d finished his proposition of sorts.

“I know.” He interrupted before you could say anything. “This is a lot to take in. You’re overwhelmed.”

“No,” you insisted. “I agree. I’m willing to give this a chance.”

He let your words marinate before swallowing. “What I’ve said doesn’t scare you?”

You scoffed. “No.” You’d already knew sex with him wouldn’t be conventional. You’d found that out from his very brazen attitude and mouth the night you were spread against the club’s VIP sofa. Your only mistake had been thinking it would be just once. You felt giddy knowing there would now be endless encounters. You craved him just like he craved you. It was a new sensation, something that had only been been simmering since you caught his eyes on you as you danced, but it was powerful and steadfast, and needed to be sated. Tonight.

He nodded to himself, seemingly deciding then and there to start taking action. “We’ll take it slow. Learn from one another.”

“That sounds good,” you agreed, unconsciously sitting up straighter, leaning in almost eagerly.

“Tonight,” he hushed. “Tonight I just want to feel you. Pleasure you. To become accustomed with your body and what you like.”

You let out a shaky breath. You could almost feel the impending pleasure running through your veins. You’d had a taste of it a few nights ago. “I feel very much the same. Tonight is just the beginning.”

He exhaled through his nose, jaw tensed before he looked you straight in the eyes. Raising his hand he beckoned you. “Come.” You were beginning to see a pattern, and just like that you obeyed. His tastes were of the dominate kind. You would gladly listen.

Rounding the corner you made your way over and stopped right in front of him. He scraped his chair back, making room between him and the table, and motioned you to slot in between.

“When you said you’d get on your knees for me…” He reminded you. A suggestion of sorts. Maybe it was put that way to soften the order.

Your eyes widened, looking at the door that lead into the kitchen. “Here?”

“Don’t worry.” He smiled, taking your hands. “No one will will come in. They shall be leaving soon anyway. They won’t interrupt us.”

You listened, finding yourself in his lap, dress crumpled around your middle, creasing to no end, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Not when you could feel his erection pressing into you. You took initiative. Rising up to let your palm caress him. You’d been dying to get your hands on him ever since the night at the club. To feel him full and thick and long between your fist, in your mouth, in your– You reached to kiss him. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth like he’d been waiting for it, grunting when you gave his dick one quick squeeze.

“Seokjin,” you breathed, lips sticky as you pulled away. “Forgive my manners. I never confessed my attraction towards you too the other night.” It was easy to let him do all the talking, but you wanted to let him know you were 100% into this because you wanted him too. It didn’t go one way. You weren’t just agreeing to this for the hell of it.

He reached for your face, rubbing the apples of your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “No need to flatter me,” he smiled, dropping one thumb to the edge of your mouth. He tugged your bottom lip down slightly and met the tip of your tongue. “I guess my tongue did the persuading, mm?”

You swiped across the cool flesh and pulled away with a grin. “Trust me, if there was no attraction that wouldn’t have happened.”

He laughed, genuinely amused, before grabbing you by the hips, pulling you into his chest. “Enough chit chat. I thought you were supposed to be sucking my dick?”

Just like the rest of him, his cock was cool. Something you had never experienced before. It was swollen, filled with blood, but ice cold. Impossible, yet here you were. Knelt between his spread legs, laving him against your tongue. You had the intense urge to please him as best you could. Show him what he’d been missing all this time and just worship the beautiful, pretty gift between his thighs. He seemed to be unable to get used to the hot, wet velvet of your mouth, eyes glued to you, watching every move you made with soundless gasps. His hands gripped the arms of the chair at first, knuckles purple, until he decided he couldn’t hold back any longer. Taking your hair in his fists, his rings cold against your scalp, he held on tight, finally letting himself moan when you slackened your jaw and slid him down your throat as far as you could take him.

He liked it when you choked on his dick. He froze every time, digging his fingers into your scalp. He liked when you slicked him with your fist, thumb circling the sensitive slit that pooled drops of precum all over the place. He really had fought off all sexual urges for so long it seemed. You wondered if he’d even attempted to pleasure himself? It wasn’t something you were brave enough to ask, but you were brave enough for other things…

You wanted him to experience all the pleasure he’d been missing over the years, tongue pointing and going south, licking thin but long lines up and across his scrotum. He gasped, the noise choking in his throat as he jerked, chair legs screeching against the tiled floor. You shuffled closer on your knees, holding his cock tall in your hand so you could slowly suck one of his balls into your mouth, softly caressing the cool encasing with your tongue. You made sure to look him in the eyes as you did so, feeding of the reactions he gave you. His mouth fallen open in a soundless groan.

You smirked as you pulled away, pleased with yourself, and began kissing up his length, swirling your tongue across the cool marble, pressing your plush lips in the flesh; getting him obscenely wet. His fingers found their way around the back of your neck, holding you firmly as you popped him back into your mouth, sucking intently on the head of his cock, your fist working the base of him, slick noises filling the air, mixed with his low, staccato moans.

When you began getting lower, hallowing your cheeks to accommodate him, your tongue tracing patterns along the underside of his thickness, his hands flew to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair to stop you. You pulled back instantly, waiting for some kind of response from him. He was close. Dangerously close. You understood that.

“I want –” He cut himself short, voice gruff, and cleared his throat, hips jumping when you kissed the tip of his cock. He tried again, taking one hand to caress your face. “I want to cum on your face.” Your legs squeezed together. Excitement overcoming you. “Please.” He added that as an afterthought, forgetting his manners with the urge to cum.

You smiled, slowly taking his hand from your cheek to guide it to the base of his cock, exchanging yours with his. He gripped himself tightly, and you squeezed your palm over his fist. Giving him permission with a sordid whisper. “Be my guest.”

You waited for it on your knees, between his spread legs and watched as he raked his beautiful hand over his equally as beautiful cock. Slowly at first, exploring the pleasure and then he sped up, jerking the top in tight, quick motions, chair legs screeching across the floor again as raised up, tightening his hold on your head to keep you in place. His breathing laboured before a strangled roar left him.

You prepared yourself, closing your eyes as you felt the first spurt hit your nose and drip down your top lip. The second flew across your left cheek. Unlike the rest of him, this substance was searing hot, shocking you so much you gasped. The third spurt, stronger, landed in your mouth. You swallowed and savoured the taste. It wasn’t over. It just kept coming, coating your face and congealing in the air, as Seokjin furiously tried to get every last drop out. Savouring the pleasure, moaning in sweet relief until he grew weak from exertion, collapsing into his seat.

You peeled your eyes open, cum glooping from your right eyebrow and onto your eyelid and watched him with awe. All that filled the dining room was his rough breaths as he tried to get a hold of himself. He ran his clean hand through his hair, strands of white falling down, and finally took a look at you. He was silent for a long time, eyes still black, the crescents of silver sending a shiver up your spine. He leaned over, pulling some of your hair behind your ear, saving it from the mess that coated your face. He looked at you with wonder and amazement in his eyes, like he was trying to retain the image of you like this forever.

When he spoke, his voice sounded different. Softer, warmer. Weaker… “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on…” Two of his fingers ran along your bottom lip, spreading some of his cum along the way. “Like this…” He awed. “It takes my breath away.”

He reached behind you, his embroidered napkin coming into view. The set was probably more expensive than your outfit. He began cleaning your face up, and you let him obediently, still kneeling on the hard floor. It was all worth it though. For him. For what was to come.

When he was done, he threw the soiled cloth to the table. There was still some cum on his fingers, where he’d rubbed your lip, and he opened your mouth, dotting your tongue with the fluid before he stuck two fingers inside, holding the muscle down before he prodded you to suck them. You did so, mimicking how you had pleasured his cock, letting your tongue trail along the expanse of his rings. He groaned, the other hand cupping your face to make you look at him. He opened his mouth, sounded beside himself. “The things I want to do to you...”

You got no sleep that night. Fucking one another until the sun began to shine through his drapes, and then some more, letting him enjoy getting familiar with the sensation again, but also feeling a pleasure like no other yourself. No man you’d ever been with had been into sex this much, and his stamina, his strength, was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. He fucked you, quite literally, to glorious, pleasure-soaked tears. Three years really hadn’t hindered his skill at all, but he blamed it on his greed, incapable of taking a compliment. Nonsense, but you soon got used to that charming personality trait…

The weeks had rolled into months, and you continued just like that. Meeting and fucking any chance you got. It was him who called the shots. He was a busy man after all. You worked to his schedule. Fucked to his schedule, and luckily for you, you were in a position to drop work every time he called. Direct permission from the boss.

True to his word, you took it slow. Going further and further each time until your body was trained to him. His was trained to you too. What he liked, how he liked it and when to do it. You knew how to read his moods and work with it each time you met up for sex. There was a mutual trust between the two of you, and you would give your all if it meant pleasing him, because it brought you pleasure too.

Sex had always been just something you’d done. The guys got their rocks off and maybe if you were lucky, you’d get one orgasm, probably gifted by your own hands. Even when in love, sex hadn’t been this enjoyable nor exciting. It was all new with Seokjin. You lived for pushing yourself to the limit, finding something new and trying it. Greedy. Maybe that was the correct word, Seokjin had been right. You were greedy for one another. You’d be dammed. The desire and the pleasure you just knew you couldn’t get from anyone else. The chemistry was on a totally different level, and it just kept getting stronger.

Seokjin did have a softer appetite though. It wasn’t all hard and extreme. That was the beauty of it. He wasn’t a one-sided dom who used you as some kind of sex toy. He was gentle and caring, even when he had you tied to his bed, blindfolded and at his mercy. Sometimes he just wanted you. Raw and passionate. An unspoken vulnerable. You think in a way, even though you would never say it to his face, he sought comfort in you. On days when he was tired or stressed, he wanted you. Only you. There was a comfort there. And you gladly obeyed. How could you not? You were flattered he chose you to share this with. Touched, in a way.

Your bond only grew, until any awkwardness was a thing of the past. You could tease one another, joke around. It was surprising at first to find out someone like him could become embarrassed and shy when provoked about certain things. Like how he had been so formal in the beginning. He insisted it was because he was so awkward about his extended inexperience fighting head to head with the raging desire he had for you… It had sent him frenzied, until he had to do something about it. You were so glad he had…

Your relationship for the most part was left undetected. It was chosen that way, to keep things strictly professional at work, but also you suspected it was something more. He requested for you not to tell your friends or family, and the only one who knew about your arrangement on his side, was the driver who took you to and from his home. Seokjin’s line of work came with danger, and even though you didn’t voice it, you guessed that danger spread to anyone he was involved with; family, friends, lovers…

You say mostly undetected because of course there had been a slip up somewhere along the line. Working in such close proximity, perhaps you had been foolish. The club was always packed, someone was bound to pick up on it, and unluckily for you, it happened. Give you a major reality check to go with it.

You had been involved with Seokjin for near to three months when it did, juggling nights at work and nights spent with him. More often than not, both at the same time. That night wasn’t one though. He was away from the club altogether, so you got changed at your usual pace, surrounded by the rest of the human girls as they chatted. That night rotter talk filled the dressing room. There had been one watching one of the girls, Jaeha, dancing. He’d taken a shine to her and asked her out for dinner at closing time. She’d agreed, but now she was getting doubts, some of the other girls laying uncertainties in her head. Of course the conversation had turned to sex. It always did where men were concerned. But this was different. They were talking about having sex with a zombie. It was times like these you were thankful there was separate dressing rooms for the human and undead girls. Although some would probably still carry on the conversation regardless.

“What about you?”

You looked up, realising that Jaeha was directing the question your way. “Hm?” You played dumb, even though you had been listening to every word of the conversation. You just didn’t want to answer.

“What would you imagine it feels like being with a rotter?”

You gave a small shrug, realising you had no choice now and turned away as you replied. “I don’t know.”

“Wait. What was that?” She exclaimed excitedly and you inwardly sighed. You guess something about your body language hadn’t been believable. “You have?!” You gave another shrug but she wasn’t having any of it. “Look me in the eyes and say you haven’t!”

You faced her again, defeated, realising you had about half a dozen other pairs of eyes looking at you too. “Fine. I have.”

A couple others squealed. Maybe it was an age thing. You were a few years older than a handful of the girls. At twenty-two you had probably been easily excitable and naïve too. Scrap that. You definitely had been.

“Who?!”

Shit. She really wasn’t going to drop this, was she? You were hoping admitting to it would have been enough. You did up your jeans as you dismissed her. “It doesn’t matter who. It’s just sex. No different.”

“No different? But they’re cold,” she whined, shuddering at the thought. “Doesn’t that feel weird?”

You opened your mouth but found yourself stuck. This conversation was making you feel uncomfortable. Thankfully, a voice came to your rescue.

“You just get used to it.” You looked to your left to see Yeeun coming into view behind

the group of girls. She’d been here nearly the longest, your age, maybe a year older. She kept herself to herself most of the time, but you guessed she wanted to put this conversation to rest. That, and maybe put you out of your misery.

Jaeha turned and opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Yeeun spoke over her. “Jaeha, just make sure to be careful if you decide to go for dinner with that guy, yeah? Undead doesn’t mean he’s inherently bad but coming to a place like this should make you think. Keep your wits about you.”

Just like she’d wanted (and you) the conversation died. Everyone left soon after that, you close behind, but Yeeun was still getting changed, distracted by her phone. You stopped by the door as an afterthought, wanting to say something to her. “Thanks,” you called, waiting for her acknowledgment.

She slowly turned and smiled. “No problem.” You watched as she shoved her cell into her jacket pocket. “Um, you got a minute?”

You nodded, unable to guess what she wanted. She sighed, almost like she was psyching herself up. “First, this isn’t me trying to get up all in your business, alright?” You nodded again, slower this time. A sicky feeling in your stomach. “Everyone else may be clueless when it comes to who you’re fucking, but I’m not.”

You tensed. Maybe you’d misinterpreted her motives. She was trying to put you out of your misery yes, but it ran deeper than that. She was trying to save your skin. She knew. How? You were always careful to never talk in public with Seokjin. Yet… maybe your reluctance to leave early like you used to do roused suspicion from her. Maybe she’d seen you both leave together… Foolish. You panicked, played stupid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She stared at you, calling your bluff. “Be careful, okay? You’re an adult, you can do whatever the hell you like, but just don’t forget who he is.” You kept quiet. There was no point denying it. “And I’m not on about him being undead. He’s...” She hesitated before deciding to go for it. “Just don’t forget he’s responsible for a lot of this city’s darkness.”

Unexplainable anger filled you. You didn’t like being judged, but more than that, the idea of someone judging Seokjin made your blood boil. She didn’t know him like you did. How kind he was when you were alone, how gentle… He wasn’t what people described him as behind closed doors. But what was the point? You knew you couldn’t tell her that. She’d just laugh at you, tell you how deluded you were. Maybe that’s what you were scared of... That you really were deluded. In over your head…

You watched her shrug on her jacket, her mind at ease now that she’d warned you. “You don’t have a problem working in his club though?”

She froze before pulling out a cigarette from her pocket and chuckling. “It’s money, babe.” She placed the rolled tube in between her lips and spoke through it. “We all need it, and at the end of the day, I’m not the one fucking him.” She finished with a casual shrug. As if she had no worries. You had plenty.

You swallowed, careful to keep your voice steady. “Well thanks for your concern. I’ll bear it in mind.” And the you left, wiping away a stray tear from your left eye.

You didn’t tell Seokjin about what happened that night, certain that Yeeun didn’t care enough to tell anyone. She wasn’t like that, hated gossip like you. You were also worried that if he found out, he’d do something. You didn’t want her to get fired. She said she’d needed the money after all. Maybe your worry went even further than that… You didn’t know. If Seokjin was as bad as everyone seemed to think, you really didn’t know…

So you kept it to yourself. But you couldn’t shake the exchange. Seokjin noticed there was something wrong with you instantly. You saw him two nights afterwards, seeking distraction in the only way you knew with him. Sex. He was tired after his “business trip” and you went along with it, using it as a way to explain your unusual behaviour, so the sex was quick but indulgent. Definitely needed. You clung to him because you’d missed him. You clung to him because you were beside yourself. Torn and unable to truly feel fine. You’d thought being reunited again would reassure you. But it didn’t.

“Smoking again?” You asked him after you were done, watching him reach for the pack of cigarettes he kept on the nightstand.

He chuckled, knowing you hated the dirty habit. The addiction. Maybe in a way you were a hypocrite. “My insides are rotten anyway. What can it do to me?” He was correct you supposed. Rotten to the core. He was untouchable.

However, to your surprise he put them back, wrapping his arm around you like it had been. Your head on his chest, protected from the chill by a fur blanket. His temperature always seemed to get you after sex, your own levelling out. Plus with the winter months now it was harder. He wasn’t the best to cuddle with after sex, an activity that seemed to be happening more often, so you had to separate your bodies with warmth. You let silence spread over you both, lost in your own head with a whirlwind of thoughts.

“Hey,” he prodded gently after a little while, wanting you to look at him. “You’re lying to me. You’re not tired.” You didn’t bother to deny it. He sounded hesitant when he carried on. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

You stayed silent for a moment. unsure how to begin, but you knew you couldn’t continue like this. You needed some type of reassurance from his mouth. Selfishly, you needed your conscience eased. You explained with a question, at least you hoped you did. “Do you like being who you are?”

Seokjin tensed under you, his expression becoming guarded and you instantly feared you’d crossed a line. He knew you were referring to his status, not his being. Something pretty much off limits. Discussed vaguely in the beginning, your joining was never about that. Now it seemed like a forbidden subject. You understood Seokjin saw you as an escape. He didn’t want to discuss work, and you didn’t want to hear it. Yet, it was looming over you, like an ominous presence. You needed something. You could live with who he was if he was as unsure of it as you were. You were positive. He just needed to be honest with you.

You waited patiently, and just as you resigned yourself to stone cold silence, he spoke.

“It was handed to me. I don’t particularly have a choice. It’s all I’ve ever known.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that was bitterness in his tone. “My father is frail now. I don’t know how long he has left. I want to make him proud, regardless of how stupid it sounds. It’s fucked up, I know that. Especially with life as it is now.”

You’d long given up trying to make your father proud, but you understood. Seokjin’s experiences were vastly different to yours, but you understood. His was a matter of life or death, you were sure of it. Yours was just the gradual estrangement from the people who had raised you. He confirmed the seriousness of his detriment in his next sentence.

“There’s nothing I can do about it. It’s my life. It’s expected of me. If I refused, said no... Ran away like a coward... God knows what would happen to me.”

Cruel of you maybe, but it was warming, reassuring to know he’d had such thoughts. Soothing to know in a lot of ways, he didn’t want this life. Selfish of you like you’d known. Trying to ease your own conscience, but here in his arms perhaps you really didn’t care. You didn’t care what Yeeun thought, what others would think if they ever found out. Your parents… None of it mattered because you knew that deep down, in his core, Seokjin was a good man. Rotten or not. He was good to you, and all that mattered. Yes, you were selfish, but you didn’t care.

“Fuck.” He cursed quietly, voice thick with emotion before he laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “What a world we live in. When being a motherfucking zombie is considered normal and the least of your problems.”

You didn’t laugh along but kissed him softly. You think it stunned him, shutting him up instantly when you pulled away, until he exhaled, pulling you into another, longer, even sweeter kiss. He wrapped you in his arms tightly and you’d never felt safer. He got you onto your back, rolling on top of you, the fur separating your bodies, just, and your need for him burnt away inside your chest.

But he pulled away before you could do anything about it, opening his mouth to say something, expression hesitant. You cupped his cold face, trying your hardest to spread some of your warmth through his body, silently encouraging him to speak. He smiled thankfully. “I didn’t choose that either, by the way. This rotter body.”

Your forehead furrowed, trying to make sense of his words. “That shocks you,” he noted. “I know why. You think I wanted this, just like everyone else.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but what was the point? You hated gossip, like you’d said so many time before, never listened to it, but you had let it sink it’s way into your mind without realising.

Greed. You thought he was like all the rest. Seeking power. Your attraction to him overshot your distaste for the ghastly act of will, but maybe deep down, you’d hoped it wasn’t true.

“It’s okay,” he reassured, twisting slightly to kiss the palm of your hand. Then the tips of your fingers as you sought the touch. “I know what people say about me. They’re wrong though.”

“What happened?” You were whispering, asking without thinking. You didn’t want to pry but Seokjin had never shared this much before. You didn’t think he’d ever shared this much before. To anyone.

“A miscellaneous deal gone wrong. I won’t bore you with the details, but I was scratched.” Your eyes widened, heart ached for him. How wrong people were. How wrong you were. “I took it in my stride, still do. I guess in some ways it helped me, in others not so much... But,” he stopped himself, letting his eyes close as he kissed your fingertips again. When he opened them the grey looked sadder than usual. “Who will follow after me? The family name gone. Although maybe that isn’t a bad thing.” He added with an afterthought, chuckling humourlessly. “I would want no kid of mine doing this. I don’t know. What I’m trying to say is, if there was ever a cure, I’d take it in a heartbeat.” Your own heart beat loudly in your chest. “Wishful thinking, right?”

You were stunned to silence now, trying to make sense of everything. You wanted to reassure him. There was adoption, he needn’t have to dwell, but then it seemed like such a human, vulnerable thing to get hurt over. It made your throat tighten, eyes well up. You had never imagined his anguish over being undead. He always seemed so casual, so put together. His human life was stolen from him cruelly and he was just left to deal with it, alone. You didn’t care if that was his by choice or not. It made sense now, that in ways he had hidden from himself, and why. He was ashamed. He wasn’t greedy, he was lost.

“I don’t think so,” you murmured, caressing his face. “If they can mutate the disease and inject people with it, they can find an antidote.”

He smiled sadly. “Do you think they want that? This world is a corrupt place. Everyone has their own selfish reason’s for letting this disease take over.” He was correct. A cure would never be made by any official. But there could be other options. One day. Hope wasn’t lost.

“You can still live a normal life,” you insisted.

“I can never age. Who would want that? Amongst other things. I have everything against me.”

Something strong tore through your chest. It almost took your breath away, but you couldn’t voice it. You were too afraid. “I don’t think so.” You replied instead. It was hard to keep your voice stable. “What’s inside is more important.”

He chuckled sadly. “Angel, I’m rotten on the inside. Maybe on the outside too.”

His pet name warmed your heart, always did, but his words made it weep. You swallowed, coating your dry mouth and squeezed his face, clinging to him, hoping he’d understand what you were trying to say. “Not to me.”

He smiled, his eyes warming up and leant down to kiss you. “Thank you.” You held him close, sinking into his mouth. The cold was unnoticeable. He did understand. You could feel it in his kiss, taste it on his tongue.

He drew back slowly, just before he lost himself entirely. He had more to say before then. “I have never felt more comfortable with anyone than I have with you. More human...” He trailed off and laughed quietly. “Even when I was one.” He kissed you once more. Like he couldn’t keep away. Hands holding the sides of your face, he lingered, your breaths mingling.

“You care for me without judgement. That’s never happened before. I’ve never had that feeling.”

You squeezed his wrists in silent understanding, eyes glassy. You couldn’t speak if you tried. Couldn’t let him know you felt exactly the same, in fear of bursting into tears. He understood though. Of course he did.

And that’s where you were now. This present moment. The aftermath of such a confession only bringing you closer together. There were silent boundaries that had been made that night. Seokjin did not wish to go into detail about his days, nor did you want him to. You were at ease now, knowing you had been right about him, the others wrong. Yes, he wasn’t perfect. No one was. Yes, maybe if you knew the cold, hard facts, you wouldn’t be able to bear it, but you were happy being ignorant to that. It wasn’t greed that drove you, for Seokjin and all the pleasure he could give you. He had been wrong. You made him see that. It was a selfishness, and that was okay. It had to be. They were two different things. You were selfish for the happiness he made you feel, and likewise for him.

For the first time in your life, you were truly happy. Felt truly understood and not judged, and so did Seokjin. Despite your different life experiences, you were the same in your hearts; yours alive, his rotten, but it didn’t matter—and that’s why you’d been so drawn to him. Twin flames in this dark, overbearing world. You knew the weight of such words, but you didn’t care. Not when you had something good, something pure, and you were clinging to it with all your might.

As much as you had put him on a pedestal in the beginning, not quite believing he’d chosen you, wanted you. Potentially put your worth on his choice, it didn’t matter. Because he had done and felt the same. He had always been thankful you’d made the decision that you had. He was thankful that you wanted him. Still, even now. In ways, you had given him certain confidence and esteem that he’d been lacking. Similar to how he helped bloom yours too. Made you feel beautiful, sexy. It was not one sided with you two. It was real, and pure, and shared. Your admiration for one another. Your love…

Yes, this had been a simple arrangement. Sex. But it wasn’t so simple anymore. You both understood that. There would come a day when you’d have to acknowledge it, your feelings… It was potentially soon, or you could just keep hiding for a little while longer, but it would happen. Seokjin didn’t think he was capable of love after his turn. You remembered him saying something similar the first night you spent together, about romance. You knew now it was because he hated what he was. Undead. He had already lost so much of himself over the years, and to become infected only tore away more. But he was wrong. He was capable. You felt the love he gave you every day. Even if it was the silent kind. It shone from him, warmed you up when you clung to his ice cold flesh.

So yes, you were selfish, so was he. But you didn’t care. Not when you had one another to hide behind.

“How do you want me, Sir?” You silked the words, excitement bubbling away in the pit of your stomach. That was your little thing. What you called him sometimes. When he was in the mood for it.

He smiled at you, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. You tensed, studying him almost intently now. Maybe there had been a reason he was delayed. You opened your mouth to ask if everything was okay, but he beat you to it.

“No need for that tonight.” He sounded exhausted, beaten. You realised how terribly you’d misread the signs, feeling a little guilty as you sat up, tightening your gown over your chest. He walked over to his bureau, steps heavy on the wooden floor. Long ago had you come to accept his insistence on wearing shoes indoors, but you watched him step out of his boots now. Loosening the red tie around his neck before removing it completely.

You waited politely for him to continue in some way. Not wanting to push an explanation for his depleted mood. He removed his rings one by one, dropping them into a glass bowl. That’s where he spoke to. “Today’s been hard. I–“ He stopped himself, unable or unwilling to go on. You wondered if you should press him. You realised keeping things bottled up like he did wasn’t good. But you were scared. Scared it could ruin things. You bit on your bottom lip, hard, stifling yourself.

He turned to you then, a longing in his eyes. You knew that look very well. It was a yearning for you. “I just need some solace.”

You nodded slowly, outstretching your arms for him to meet you. He rounded the corner of the bed in a few, quick strides and dove into you. His mouth finding yours in a deep, intense kiss. You wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders, feeling him squeeze his around your chest, like he needed to make sure you were really there. He spoke no more and that was okay.

His mouth and tongue found your neck, kissing the skin like it could kiss back, until he ceased and held his face in the crook, hugging you tightly. You ran your fingers through his hair, unsure what else you could do. Your chest felt sad and heavy, his mood affecting you immediately. But you needed to be strong. You kissed at whatever part of his face you could reach, your turn to make him feel good. Make him feel loved.

Somehow your lips met again, tongues slipping together, going from slow to fast. His anguish over what was unknown to you, turned into an urge to forget. An urge to bury himself so deep inside you, he’d forget the outside world. If not just for tonight. You would gladly give him that. Give yourself that.

Your hands ran along the tops of his arms, squeezing the muscles as you went, moaning softly when his tongue slipped into your ear, the coolness sending a shiver up your spine. You quickly found the buttons of his shirt, undoing them in equal haste, revealing the expanse of his chest. His hands tugged at the tie of your gown, getting it to fall open and reveal your chest. He cupped your breasts softly, like you would break if he tried any harder and slowly got you onto your back. Your gown slipped open fully, rendering you bare to his eyes, and he let out a sweet sound of awe. He loved your body. Always had. Always would.

You tugged where his shirt tucked into his slacks, and he ripped it from his body, desperate to get as naked as you. It wasn’t long before he was, lying atop your body, staring into your eyes as he caressed your face. His heart was beating a little faster than usual, like it did when he was aroused, yet still not that of a human heart. It never would, but it had become oddly soothing these days.

“Not too cold?” He asked, voice thick with something that had you reaching for him, holding him close.

You smiled. “No. I like it.”

He returned the action, rubbing your noses together affectionately. Your heart swelled in your chest. Fit to burst. You closed your eyes and let yourself sink when his mouth began travelling your body. Your chest rising and falling visibly as he found his way between your legs, making love with his mouth.

In fact, out of the hundreds of times you’d had sex, tonight was the closest you’d ever gotten to such an act. It just felt different. More vulnerable than ever before. Sweeter. It filled your hole body, elevated you. Took you to places you’d never been before.

He pushed inside you slowly, indulging in your velvet warmth, and when he began to thrust it was to a tantric rhythm. Your back arched, your toes curled and all that you felt was warmth. No matter how cold his flesh was, his glow engulfed your body. You wanted it to never stop.

“Tell me you’ll always want me,” he rasped into your ear. Silver and black eyes burning into yours when he pulled back to view you. It was the most defenceless thing he’d ever requested of you. Exposed in the darkness, you shone, giving him the confidence to plead for such a thing.

You held his face tight, voice a hushed whisper, but it didn’t make it any less true. You didn’t know what the future held, nor what would unfold. But you were sure of one thing. There would never be a time when you didn’t want him. You were his, and he was yours.

“Always.”

#seokjin smut #bts smut #jin smut #bts fic #jin fic #fic:club zombie #floralseokjin:writings

2K notes · View notes

peteywillproceed · 4 years

Text

All The Lies

Author’s Note: I’m so glad you guys liked the teaser for this yesterday, I hope the full thing lives up to expectations! As always, I hope you enjoy! x

Summary: Admitting you got cheated on is hard. Being cheated on by the person your best friend set you up with is harder. But telling your best his girlfriend was the other woman? Impossible. What good could even come from it?

Word Count: 3,582

“I cannot believe you!” You yelled, hands in your hair, jaw almost on the floor. “You told him what?”

Harrison just laughed, wiping the dish you’d unceremoniously dropped in his hands after the revelation and putting it back in the rack. “I didn’t know it was a private thing.”

“My breakups are not a matter of public interest,” you told him pointedly “and why did you even feel the need to tell him about it anyway?”

“I dunno, we were just out and you came up and he asked what you’d been up to recently.”

You almost screamed, biting down on your lip before you could snap and say something you’d regret. “You could’ve answered that with ‘she’s good’, there was no need to tell internationally beloved actor Thomas Stanley Holland that my relationship was a complete and utter failure.”

He snorted, draining the sink of washing up liquid and chucked the tea towel into the washing machine. You leant against the counter, staring out of the window whilst you wondered what the most effective way to kill your best friend was and whether this constituted a well meaning kicking-out-of-your-flat. Sighing, you shook your head and blinked back the tears that had pooled in your eyes when you were distracted – you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t think about it, after weeks on the sofa and tonnes of ice cream. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

“Y/n?” Harrison said softly, moving behind you so his chin rested on your shoulder.

You took a deep, shuddery breath, plastering the best fake smile you could muster on your face and spun around to face him. “Yep?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you weren’t ready for people to know yet,” he pursed his lips and rubbed your arm, pulling you into a tight hug when a sob wracked through your body. You clung onto his shirt, feeling the material dampen as you pressed your face against it, trying to remember to breathe, trying to forget the loss of a two year relationship.

“It’s okay,” you finally managed, choking back the sobs, even though it definitely wasn’t. “I just didn’t expect you to be so blunt about it. Or to tell Tom.”

“Well he was going to find out sometime, or were you planning on leaving it till he came over and Justin wasn’t in the flat anymore?”

You laughed between tears, wiping your face with your palms. “That one.”

“And, may I ask, have you been Googling Tom again? Since when did you know his middle name?” Harrison poked your chest playfully and you rolled your eyes, batting his hand away.

“Since he wouldn’t stop teasing me about mine last time he came over, I figured I needed some ammunition.”

“Ahh, you never were that good at revenge, were you?”

“Excuse me?” you gasped, pretending to be offended “what are you implying?”

“Y/n, Tom’s an actor – he’s been teased so much about that name I honestly don’t think he gives two shits.”

You could hardly breathe between laughs, the tears drying up faster than they ever had before, and you wondered if that was what progress had looked like. You’d thought it was progress when you’d gotten out of bed, when you’d stopped eating two tubs of ice cream a day and finally brushed your hair, but the truth was Justin had still been in the back of your mind, always there, always reminding you of that night you so desperately wanted to forget. Except for the first time in months, for that little split second, he hadn’t, and it had just been you and Harrison in your own little bubble.

“Anyway, speaking of the dipshit, he’s home tomorrow,” Harrison pulled his coat off the back of a chair and slid his arms into the sleeves.

You frowned, trying to remember what Tom had told you the last time you’d spoken to him. You’d known both Harrison and Tom since you were young, always that little bit closer to Harrison, and you’d been nervous about Tom coming home because he’d missed so much. You’d dreaded telling him everything that had happened, because he was the one that had set you up with Justin all those years ago. So, when he’d invited you and Harrison out to Morocco a few weeks back you’d stayed behind, too scared to face up to reality. You thought you’d have more time to prepare yourself – he was supposed to be on set for another month. “Oh really? He’s done filming already?”

“Yeah, something about a schedule mixup,” Harrison shrugged and fished his car keys out of his pockets “there’s a welcome home party at Nikki’s tomorrow night, are you coming?”

Oh, that. You remembered the invite, burning a hole in the pocket of your jacket. You’d seen the little white note card lying on the floor last week, but you’d been so caught up in Justin and that stupid picture you’d barely had time to process it.

“Sure, I think it’s in my calendar.”

“I can’t believe you still have a calendar,” Harrison rolled his eyes.

“Hey, some of us like being organised!” You chased after him as he made for the door “Some of us actually make it to appointments!”

“It’s 2020, Y/n,” he smirked, looking over his shoulder as he got the flat door open “It’s time to live a little and take some risks!”

You pushed your tongue against your cheek and tutted. “And what if I don’t want to?”

“Then life is going to make you,” Harrison called, already disappearing into the hallway outside “and I, for one, am going to enjoy watching.”

***

You pulled up to the Holland house later than you meant to.

Mostly because you’d spent half an hour in front of the mirror wondering if it was a better idea to just stay home. But also because you’d tried putting makeup on for the first time in weeks and somehow you just looked worse.

You’d ended up back on the floor, sobbing so hard you thought your chest would cave in and wondering if it was even worth going tonight. You hadn’t seen your best friend in months, and it sucked that you had to ruin it by having a conversation you never wanted in the first place. By the time Harrison texted you asking when you were gonna get there, it was way past six and you were embarrassingly, stupidly late.

You shouldn’t have gone.

Yet here you were.

And everything felt so much worse.

“Y/n!” a familiar voice yelled as you hopped out of the car and spun around. Harry was running down the steps and launching himself towards you, pulling you into a tight hug before you’d even locked the car. “Harrison told me, I’m so sorry, Justin’s a dickhead. No wonder you didn’t wanna tell Tom.”

“Yeah, well we didn’t need to ruin two relationships did we?” you laughed, pushing away the pain. You’d practised what you were going to say, run your lines like you were rehearsing a movie. You figured there was no way you were going to make it through this without crying, but you could at least try.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, clearly confused by what you’d just said, but you were interrupted by Harrison flying down the stairs and yanking you into the house. “Finally, thought you’d died or something.”

“Nope just car trouble,” you lied, more than grateful as he dragged you away from a frowning Harry. “Where’s Tom?”

“Right here, darling,” he said, stepping into the hallway and swinging you into the air.

“Jesus Christ, Thomas let me down!” You laughed, bashing his back as he spun you in a circle. Harrison grinned as Tom tipped you upside down, spinning you so violently the black and white floor blurred into one, meaningless grey, and you had to close your eyes or else you would’ve ended up vomiting.

“Six months, SIX MONTHS its been since you graced me with your presence!” Tom turned you back upright and pulled you against his chest, arms wrapping around your waist. “You can let me have this!”

“Yef but canft breafthe,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“Don’t care, you owe me.”

“TOFFAS!”

“Alright alright,” he relented, letting you go. You could feel the heat flooding your cheeks as you smoothed down your hair and fixed your top, rubbing your palms against your jeans. “But you do owe me a proper cuddle.”

“Should’ve stayed in England, mate, there’d have been plenty to go around,” Harrison smirked, but you eyed him wearily, knowing exactly what he was referring to. For a good three weeks after the break up, you were pretty certain Harrison hadn’t left your side.

Tom seemed to pick up on the double meaning, sliding his eyes between you and Harrison in turn. “Am I missing something here?” he asked.

“Depends how you interpreted it,” Harrison said, turning towards the living room. “But you two probably need a catch up. I’ll go find Sam and give him a hand with dinner.”

You glared daggers at his retreating back, mentally cursing him for not even allowing you to take your shoes off. You felt Tom’s hand rest gently on your shoulder, the other tilting your face to face him, and you took a deep breath, knowing that if you didn’t get it over with, you’d never be brave enough again.

“Yeah, he’s right, we probably should,” you sighed, and Tom’s frowned deepened.

“Is everything okay, Y/n?”

You hesitated, gnawing at a loose piece of skin on your thumb. “Not…not really. Can we go sit in your bedroom? I feel awkward doing it here.”

Tom nodded, not taking his eyes off you as you took your shoes off. You could feel him staring at your neck, knowing his brain was working over time to figure out what was going on that was so bad you had to wait to tell him. You knew he’d be thinking the worst, it was just what he did, and usually you never had to make that a reality.

But today…today was different - and you had no idea how he’d take it.

***

“So,” he said, closing the door and pulling you onto the bed “what’s up?”

You pushed your tongue against your cheek and looked everywhere but his face, knowing you’d lose all the confidence you’d built the moment you looked into his eyes. His room was clean, a few pants chucked across the floor and a couple of dust bunnies lurking beneath the bed, but he’d only been a day. He had more than enough time to dirty it up to its usual standard.

“Seriously, Y/n, you’re scaring me now.” Tom’s voice reminded you he was still sitting in front of you, the two little lines creasing his brow even deeper now.

“Sorry, it’s just…I don’t really know how to phrase this.”

Tom smiled, taking your hand in his, and you almost snatched it back in shock. His palms were warm and clammy, just as trusting and open as they’d always been. You had a feeling this might change things. “It’s just me, I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“But’s that’s not the point. It’s just…well, it’s about Maura.”

“Maura? As in, my ex-girlfriend Maura?” Tom drew back slightly, confusion still written across his face. “What about her?”

“Well I- wait, your ex girlfriend?” you stopped mid-sentence, realising what he’d just said, mouth hanging open in shock. Tom gulped, flicking his eyes away from yours, and shuffled backwards on the bed. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, desperately looking for anywhere else to focus on, and this time it was you getting more and more confused. “Since when did that happen?”

“Since before I went away,” he sighed, scratching the side of his head as if that was enough of an explanation. “I figured we weren’t right for each other.”

“But I thought-” You’d been going to say you thought he loved her, thought she was the one for him and that was who he was going to end up with. This all seemed so…so random, so out of the blue you couldn’t even have written it as a surprise twist in a book. You could barely process what he was saying, a thousand thoughts crossing your mind at once. Why hadn’t he told you? What the hell had happened for him to break up with her? But the most important one of all, the one you didn’t really want to let yourself believe, kept flashing in front of your eyes like a neon sign.

If they’d broken up before he went away to film Cherry, then that meant Maura had been single that night.

“Justin cheated on me,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “He cheated on me when you were away and I’ve had no idea how to tell you.”

“He did what?” Tom’s eyebrows shot up so fast they were a blur, and before you could process what he was doing he had his phone in his hand and was scrolling through his phone. “I’m gonna kill the bastard.”

“Wait, no, Tom, stop,” you desperately reached for the phone, clawing it from his grip as he tried to turn away from you.

“That arse hole cheated on you, Y/n, he’s not getting away with it!”

“But you don’t know what happened!” You finally grabbed the phone and yanked it away, panting from the effort. “There’s more to it than that!”

“Like what? What possible excuse could he have for cheating on you, Y/n?”

You huffed, folding your arms across your chest. Tom’s face was red with anger, his hands curled into fists at his sides. “We’ve kind of gotten off topic here.”

“Well you were the one that brought up getting cheated on,” Tom stepped towards you, holding his arms out “I honestly had no idea.”

You collapsed into his reach, remembering how much you’d craved his smell and warmth over the months he’d been gone, and sighed against his chest. “That’s because I didn’t want you to know. I made Harrison promise not to tell anyone.”

“But why? It’s not like I would’ve blamed you for it, it wasn’t your fault.”

“No,” you admitted “but, the thing is…he cheated on me with Maura and-”

“And you thought we were still together,” he finished the sentence for you and the relief that washed through you was like water poured on a wildfire. You’d kept it bottled up for months, sobbing to Harrison and wondering how the hell you were supposed to tell him about it. To finally say it, to finally hear him understand, was worth more than you’d realised. “You didn’t want to hurt me too.”

“Especially not whilst you were filming. I knew how much you loved her and I couldn’t bear the thought of upsetting you when you were thousands of miles away.”

He laughed, the sound hollow and unnerving as he guided you back to the bed and held your fingertips with his. His gaze was fixed on the door, barely acknowledging you as you turned to stare at him in bewilderment. “The irony is, you did still upset me.”

You frowned, your lips parting in confusion and your heart beating wildly in your chest. “What?”

Tom raked a hand over his face and lay back against the bed, his chest heaving a sigh as you fell down beside him. His curls were gone, the stubble of his head prickling your fingers as you reached up out of habit to run your fingers through it, trying not to panic. You’d worked so hard to keep everything to yourself so it wouldn’t mess up his work, that the thought you somehow hadn’t even managed to do that was crippling.

“When I set you up with Justin two years ago, it was for a reason other than just wanting you to get out more,” he said eventually, turning to face you. “I couldn’t admit something to myself and I figured the best way to…stop thinking about it, was to pass the problem on.”

“What problem?” you shook your head, still not really understanding what he was trying to get at. Tom’s hand reached to cup your waist and you gasped at the contact, not used to being this close to him.

“You,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “You were my problem. Y/n, I’ve been in love with you for years and I couldn’t admit it to myself. I thought if I saw you happy with someone else it would make everything go away, but somehow…somehow it just made it worse.”

You couldn’t breathe, paralysed by Tom’s revelation from your head to your toes. Your eyes were locked with his, filled with desperation and a sadness you’d never seen before, and your heart almost broke at the thought he’d held himself back from this for years.

You’d never given much thought to it really, there’d been the usual teasing in secondary school but once Tom had gotten with Maura it had pretty much stopped. There’d never been any confusion, no wondering about what might have been – to you, he’d always been Tom, the boy who’d wiped a booger on you at six, and copied your chemistry homework for four whole years and never been caught. Sure, you knew exactly what people saw in him, why girls chased him on the streets and oogled him in the gym, and now that you thought about it you’d always liked it when you went swimming.

But he was still just Tom.

“I…I don’t really know what to say,” you said at last, pulling away from him slightly. You saw hurt register in his eyes, and it killed you to be the one that caused it. But what else could you say? You couldn’t tell him you loved him too because it was a lie...

...wasn’t it?

“Anything - anything but that this has scared you away.”

You held back a sob, somehow feeling more conflicted than you had than when you’d come here in the first place. “It hasn’t, I’ll always love you Tom,” you saw hope flare in his eyes “but I don’t think I love you like…like that.”

He nodded, pushing his tongue against his cheek and pulling away from you. Suddenly the air went cold, all the energy disappearing with him, and you wanted to sob at the loss. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, his back blocking you from seeing his face, and you ran a finger across your lips, at a loss for what to say.

You knew today would go badly, but you hadn’t expected it to be because of this. You’d prepared yourself to deal with the fall out of a cheating girlfriend, not a declaration of love, and now you just didn’t know what to do.

Thinking on instinct, you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling his shoulders shake as his warm hands embraced yours and he leant back into your body. You glanced at his cheeks, reaching up to wipe away a tear, and sighed into his neck, wondering how you’d gotten here.

“I’m sorry, you probably didn’t expect that,” Tom laughed, the sound full of a profound sadness you’d never heard in him before.

“I didn’t, but I’m glad I know,” you replied, feeling more sure as soon as you’d said the words.

“Really?”

“Of course. It seemed like it was upsetting you not telling me, and if telling me has made it any easier for you than I’m glad I know.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say it’s made things easier.”

You smiled, bending down onto the floor and cupping his cheek. “Maybe not, but things are always better out than in.”

“Isn’t that a drinking joke?”

“It applies here,” you grinned, relief filling you as he cracked a small smile. “Besides, things change.”

Tom’s brow furrowed, big brown eyes turning to look up at you as you rubbed your thumb over his chin. “What?”

Hesitating, you bit your lip and met his gaze, remembering what Harrison had told you yesterday about life and taking risks. This was either a horrendously bad idea or about to change a hell of a lot in the space of five seconds.

You weren’t exactly known for your rational decisions after all, you barely managed to make it out of your flat alive most days. But the second he’d said it, the second he’d made you question everything you believed, you knew you had to find out what it felt like, even if it was just once and never again.

And so you went for it, without thinking, and pushed your lips against his, feeling the shock wave course through his body and his rigid mouth melting against yours as he finally registered what was happening. For a second, you wanted to pull away, pretend like it never happened, but then Tom reached for your neck and fireworks exploded behind your eyes.

It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, butterflies flapping excitedly in your stomach, your heart swelling and beating faster than ever before. Bolts of lightning raced through your veins, electricity crawling across your skin and setting your nerves on fire as his lips moved slowly against yours. Suddenly, there were no more questions, no more overthinking, just you and Tom, exactly where you were supposed to be.

And, for the first time in weeks, you were stupidly...embarrassingly...happy.

When you finally pulled away, you were both a little breathless, a little starry eyed and overwhelmed. Your lips curved into a smile, a small laugh escaping you as you fell against Tom’s arms and nuzzled your face into his chest.

“Does this mean...” he started, but you pushed your finger against his lips.

“Don’t even question it, Thomas,” you grinned, reaching up to press another kiss to his cheek. “It’s not something that needs to be thought about.”

Before you could think, his lips were back on yours and this time you were in his lap, pulled flush against his chest and he was running his tongue along your bottom lip.

But before you could deepen the kiss, the door behind you suddenly burst open, Harrison nearly giving you a heart attack as he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Oh FINALLY! Harry? You owe me twenty quid!”

Taglist:

(if you want to be added, send me an ask or leave a reply with the account you want tagged!)

@jinxfanfics @zabdisamor @jillanaholland @enjoymyloves @averyfosterthoughts @ziggyspurplehaze

#tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland oneshot #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n

619 notes · View notes

ppaperheartss · 5 years

Text

Intertwined

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: a lil bit of swearing, just a shit tonne of fluff tbh

A/N: So this is the first piece of writing I’ve shared! I hope you enjoy it and I would love any criticisms as I’d like to start writing more often :) This is based on the beautiful song “Intertwined” by Dodie Clark.

Skin

Heat

Hair in your mouth

Feet touching feet

Bucky lay there, listening to the sounds of the soft snores escaping your lips and the heavy rain hitting against the slightly ajar window, which was showing to him the dark sky that was littered with clouds and stars. His body pressed to the back of yours, both sets of legs curled up towards their chests to be impossibly closer to one another. Even with his flesh arm asleep from where you lay on it comfortably, and the two bodies creating an unbearable warmth which brought little beads of sweat to his hairline, he could not imagine a more perfect way to be awake at 3 a.m. He had found a peace in his body holding yours, watching the world go by from the soft comfort of the shared bed.

It brought a smile to his face, a small, sleepy one, but one that reached up to his striking eyes and brought out the crinkles in the sides of them. If you looked even closer, you would find a little dimple on his cheekbone that just highlighted his happiness in the most gorgeous way. You loved staring at his face when he was happy like this; being able to spot out the faint little freckles which dusted constellations across his cheeks and nose. His beautifully pale blue eyes were like two moons hovering low over a sea, a blue lagoon of tranquillity and peacefulness. They were your safe haven, always being able to find home and safety in those eyes. You could see Bucky behind them, his emotions always evident with the way they clouded over or shone brightly. The reflections in them taking you to a far away world which you would happily live in for the rest of your life. He was perfect in your eyes - even the little nick he had just below his eyebrow and pale scar along the edge of his bottom lip - and you in his.

Oh you

And I

Safe from the world

Though the world will try

Your lives were busy; he was often away for weeks at a time for gruelling missions which more times than not left him exhausted, and you worked hard in the medical wing to help all of the accident-prone avengers and agents throughout most of the day. One time, after waking up with you already gone to the medical wing at an ungodly hour and no sign of returning anytime soon, Bucky “accidentally” fell down the stairs, which left his arm facing the completely wrong direction. Even though he was in a sling for a week, knowing that he did this elaborate but stupid plan just to see you for half an hour made your heart swell to this day. So he treasured simple moments like this, where they were both stress-free and their true selves, the ones the other had grown to love over the years they had known each other.

A deep rumble of thunder from outside, the current storm showing no signs of stopping anytime soon, slowly forced you to come around. You lifted your head sleepily to look outside the window, but when met with darkness you simply dropped your head back down. Another deep rumble, but this time coming from your boyfriend’s chest which was holding you safely. A chuckle that brought a smile to your face. Tugging the sheet from underneath you, you turned your body so to face him. He was hard to see in the darkness of the room and current half-asleep state, but you could make out a head of utterly messed up hair and a deep, toothy smile looking down at you. You hummed in acknowledgement to show you were awake now and rested your head against his chest.

”’Long you been awake?” Your voice was quiet, tired, but you had no intention of falling asleep anytime soon knowing that Bucky was awake in the middle of the night. Had he had a nightmare? He hasn’t had one in a long time, and surely you would feel his usual tossing and turning or hear the whimpers and cries that occasionally left his lips. Maybe you were sleeping deeply, it had been a long day in the wing with being a doctor down and you never had a chance to sit down until you collapsed in the bed.

“Not long, doll.” He brought his hand over to stroke the hair back from your face, his hand then resting on your cheek as his thumb brushed over the soft skin delicately. “Just been enjoying the view.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and as you lifted your head with flushed cheeks, it was right there beaming down at you.

Oh, I'm afraid of the things in my brain

But we can stay here

And laugh away the fear

“Did you have another bad dream?” The lights were on now, though dimmed to the lowest they could go, and Bucky sat with his back against the cool headboard. Your head was on his chest, lazily dragging your fingers across his bare chest and torso, as you listened to the distinct thump thump of his heartbeat. It was soothing to say the least, it was a constant reminder that he was always there with you, even in his silent, contemplative moments such as this one.

“It wasn’t as bad as the other ones. Just enough to wake me.” He said after a few moments. “Though, I think it was your snoring that really startled me awake.” His grin was cheeky, but fond. A laugh fell from your lips, bringing your head up and pecking the underside of his jaw softly.

“I think you’ve been mistaken, I do not snore.” You said with a giggle, tapping your finger on his chin. His eyebrows creased as he laughed heartily, throwing his head back against the headboard.

“I think the multiple videos that I have on my phone would prove you otherwise.”

A gasp left your lips as you slapped him on the chest gently, only causing another laugh to rumble through his chest. He pulled you up so you were sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you still as he peppered kisses over every inch of your face. You pushed your hands against his chest, whines leaving your lips as he only held you closer and whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Giggling as his warm breath fanned over your neck and caused goosebumps to rise down the sink, you cupped both his cheeks to pull him into a sleepy, but passionate, kiss.

Numb

Fine

You create a rarity of my genuine smiles

You had been awake for an hour now, and your body showed no signs of being ready to fall back into the peaceful state anytime soon. The storm outside only grew louder and wilder, and a large gust of wind slammed the window shut suddenly. Covering your mouth to muffle your surprised yelp so an almost sleeping Bucky didn’t wake, but of course he had at the loud noise, goosebumps prickled across the skin of your bare legs and arms from the cool air that had seeped in the gap of the now closed window. Rolling your head over you seen his eyes open at the bang, probably thinking an intruder was here, then seen almost all of your shared blanket across his body and the floor, and felt nothing to cover you. A shiver ran down your spine as you remembered just how cold you were.

“Buck,” you whined, trying to pull some of the sheet back to your side. “gimme the blanket, I’m freezing over here.”

He only grunted in response as he rolled onto his side and wrapped his strong arms around you. His chin rested on your head, his eyes closed again. “This is much better.” he mumbled with a deep, sleepy voice. The heat from his chest was enough for a second, but as soon as his metal arm touched the revealed skin on your back from where your shirt had risen up you let out a gasp.

“You’re nice, but I still want the blanket. ”You shimmied your way out of his arms, and he let out a laugh. One that reached down to his belly, one that brought out the smile you loved. Smiles. You loved that tonight was just full of them. You couldn’t get enough of his, his real ones, the ones only you could get out of him.

“Love you too, doll.” He pulled the blanket out from under him, draping them dramatically over you as he tucked in the sides tightly just to make more of a point that he was giving more to you than he had. His fingers grazed the spots he knew you were ticklish just to elicit those heart-warming giggles from your perfect lips. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, nose, both cheeks, lips gently with a fond smile on his face. God, he really did love you. And didn’t you know it.

Intertwined

Free

I've pinned each and every hope on you

I hope you don't bleed with me

So he lay there, with you asleep in his arms once again, the pink and orange sky peeking out through the clouds as day threatened to ruin his perfect night. He hadn’t slept, but it didn’t bother him. He would forever cherish the moments he had with you before he managed to find a way to fuck it all up. But, it was different this time. Every relationship he had had, platonic or romantic, had never felt this right before he met you. Now, he can see a future on the horizon. A beautiful future filled with you and nights like this. Feeling safe, secure, loved. He had been touch starved for many decades, and he found someone who embraced his past and wanted to touch him in the most loving way anyone has ever been touched. Maybe that’s how he knew you were the one for him.

As little strands of your hair blew from your face with each breath you took, a small smile dancing across your lips as you slept, he felt everything slowly fall into place. This was it, where he was supposed to be. With you in his arms, by his side, loving him. He fell asleep shortly, his eyelids barely being able to keep themselves up any longer, with a smile that just couldn’t be wiped away from his face and a finally peaceful mind.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #fanfic #marvel #fluff #domestic!bucky #dodie #intertwined #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes x reader

197 notes · View notes

namjoonchronicles · 5 years

Text

needy | nj

↳ pairing namjoon x you

↳ genre fluff, angst, domestic au

↳ words 5k

↳ summary Namjoon usually have his priorities in order. the demands of his professional life frequently intrude the life he shared with his wife. pushed to the blunt end, cornered and helpless, Namjoon said the wrong thing to the most important person in his life, and now he has to deal with the aftermath: facing the wrath of his wife.

↳ song ariana grande ‘nasa’

And it began, with a blinking cursor on a blank page.

Namjoon exhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had taken a break after earnestly trying to write a passable verse. He picks his phone after a while and saw that his beloved wife hadn’t replied to any of his messages. It had been roughly four hours.

Unable to keep his composure any longer, Namjoon resorts to sending voice notes after two of his calls went unanswered.

“Can we please have dinner together tonight? I haven’t seen you in days, I’m losing my mind, I’m serious, baby stop playing around,” he huffs angrily, before pausing and then he resumes with a new breathe, “Call me back. Please.” He stressed on the word ‘please’, in hopes that it comes into picture how much he was in dire need of you.

Your toothbrush was in a separate holder, and you have your own personal toothpaste for use. You have dinners without him, and when he wants to talk, you would be typing on your laptop or watching a drama--which you deemed is more important than whatever he wants to talk about. Tonight, he sent you messages, and none of them were replied. But he heard the front door open, so he dashes out to see you taking off your heels and walking past him in the hallway, like he’s just one of the furnitures.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling…” he gently scolded. His nose picks up on something that wasn’t usually on you. His face sours as he said, “Why do you smell like nicotine?” You unzip your jeans and took them off before shoving them in the machine along with your blouse, turning a new cheek on Namjoon’s accusative tone, you forced out a smile. “Relax, it’s not me… Nika hasn’t quit, so she got them on me because we stayed in this awfully-ventilated karaoke room. She needed a friend to cheer up,” you patted his tummy twice walking out with your bras and undies, “Couldn’t hear you calling on the cell.”

Namjoon gawked and tailed behind you, “You usually tell me where you going everyday, I can’t get use to the privilege being stripped away from me; and can’t help remembering when I wanted it to be stripped away. Babe,” he urges you, hoping the term of endearment will give him an attention, but you continued stripping your bra and undie before wrapping yourself in a towel.

“Honey bear,” you called him, “I’m very tired. I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to your texts, but I’m home now,” you sang and walked inside the bathroom, but stopped Namjoon with your hand on his chest from stepping in. Pulling a fake ass smile on your face, tipping your glasses while standing in just towels at your husband. “I have a lot to do, so I’m just going to shower,” you politely spoke to him, before slamming the door in his face. And locking it.

Locking it. Namjoon was alarmed.

He begins to panic. His heart is hammering against his ribs, pounding erratically so he marches to his home studio, unable to take the sight of the door. You have never done that before. No one locks their door after marriage. You had been strange since a couple of weeks ago. You wake up, make coffee and then disappear until he leaves for work. He imagined you’d be home when he does, but all he found is food on the table and you would be on your table, next to the bed, typing with your earphones on.

Like tonight too, right after you showered. Namjoon peeked through the gaps of the door and took a shaky inhale. Once he decided he had mustered enough courage, he enters the bedroom with a mug of warm water. He sets them on the left corner of your table but you don’t notice until he pushes it further in. You looked up, and took off one of your earphones with a huge beaming smile that he had missed.

“That’s so nice of you, sweetie...thank you, you didn’t have to,” you took the brim of the mug to your lips before you realised that it was too hot to drink and set them back down again. “But I wanted to. I need… I need to talk to you,” Namjoon stammered, leaning against the door frame, making random movements with his hands and it’s all suggesting that his terribly nervous. “Is everything alright?” You spin your chair to face him, lacing your fingers together, ready for everything he had to say. Genuine concerns splayed across your face, regarding your husband’s trouble, whatever it may be.

I’m horny. Namjoon mentally slapped himself knowing that you will not succumb that easily especially when he had been an ass himself, all this time. Namjoon used another approach, a psychological one; you, his wife who bore a golden soul with a kindred heart would never past a chance to help anybody. This time, it’s him.

“I’ve been hitting the slump, as of lately,” he hung his head low, bending his index finger on your table, slightly mulling his words while you listened to him intently, “I feel like I cannot write a decent verse. And I’m afraid that I can never do it again.” You reached for his hand, softly but brief caress, the kind that you give a not-so-close friends and it hits Namjoon like a truck because he knows you can give more than just that. You’re limiting your skinship.

“You’re six feet tall, you’re not afraid of anything!” you exclaimed. “I’m afraid of you, so that’s not entirely true,” Namjoon scoffs.

You gave him a bro-smack on the forearm and crumpled your face into a grin.

“Why don’t you take a walk or watch some movies, you’ll get them back. You worry too much, what did I tell you about doing that…” you squinted your eyes at him and resumed typing on your laptop, “Sometimes we just have to push through you know, maybe get some decent chilly air outside or maybe just have some good nachos, you know, get back to basics, like Christina Aguilera used to say…” you gave him a half-hearted advice, glancing at him once in a while. Namjoon shifts from one foot to another, pressing his lips together, looking like he was disappointed with what your answers were.

Usually, when he was uninspired, or tell you he was uninspired, you’d be all over him, taking care of his needs. Manly needs. To get the creative juices going.

But tonight, it was clear to him that he wasn’t going to get any. He pouts more now, than he ever did when he was younger. Defeated, Namjoon returns to his studio and sat in his chair, and did nothing. For 2 hours.

Maybe he needed a more ‘aggressive approach’. So he climbed into bed shirtless, while you continue type on the laptop, not paying him a grain of attention. At all. He moves to the side of the bed where your study table was, and he cleared his throat.

“I was thinking, that maybe we could grab coffee this sunday, in that little english cottage cafe we used to date in, it’s been awhile since we went there,” Namjoon rambled only to realise that you had your earphones on, in full blast. He chewed the insides of his mouth and wet his lips, looking away and clenching his eyes shut. I can’t give up now, Namjoon thought.

He taps your elbow with his index finger, lightly and he got your attention. You hummed and took off your earphones, turning to him.

“Can I have some water, please?” he asked, scratching his bare chest so your gaze drops to notice that he is deliciously shirtless and ready for love, but you passed him the mug without another word said, and he replied an emotionless, “Thank you.”

“No problem…” you puffed your cheeks and went on Google to do further research on the self-help article you were trying to write for your blog.

Before you put those earphones back on, and not wanting to lose your attentions, Namjoon sat up to lean against the headboard to say, “It’s really hot isn’t it?” Your glint at him and you frowned at the screen because of his words, “It’s literally -4 degree celsius right now, Joon. Are you having a fever?” You pressed your palm on his forehead and retracted them when you feel nothing abnormal, “Hmm no, you do not. Maybe some sleep will help.” Namjoon’s plan fails again. But he is not ready to give up just yet.

“Maybe you should join me, so I could sleep better…” he bit his lower lip, attempting to be sexy but you exhale through your nose with the crumple of your face, “Then you’d be a lot hotter than what you’re feeling right now because, thermal equilibrium, you know… plus, I have a tonne things to do. So if you can’t sleep, you can go back to your studio and maybe, work?”

“Nah, I’ll sleep,” he rejected. You begin to unplug your laptop and gathering several papers with you. Namjoon switched to his side and asked, “Where are you going?” “Do my work outside because you need the lights off, to sleep,” you answered, and flipped the switch off, passing him a cute ‘goodnight’ and leaving the bedroom door fully shut. Namjoon has two choices: either he comes clean about what he wanted tonight and risk the rejection, or he sleeps being absolutely restless. A lot of things had happened.

He could go days into listing what they were but tonight, you crossed one more line. “Not even a goodnight kiss,” he grumbled and threw the duvets away. Before shoving his head through a thick hoodie because it was very very cold. Even colder when your wife wouldn’t make love to you.

Morning rises, Namjoon ran his arms down your side of the bed and see that it wasn’t messy as it should be if you’ve slept in it. When he walks down the hallway, he realises why. You had been sleeping on the couch, the whole night. Half-filled coffee mug on the floor, papers stacks on the left corner of the coffee table, and your laptop turning to black screen for inactivity. Namjoon wouldn’t dare to stir you awake but he was feeling very lonely. Despite living with you. It’s hard to manage micro distance, knowing you’re always on for a cuddling session, and now, you’re not anymore. Something flips in you.

Your alarm wakes you up, and have you jolted a little. You saw Namjoon standing there with both hands in his front hoodie pocket, wearing a maroon shorts. “You’re awake early,” you yawn, sitting on the chair, stretching and fetching your phone, first thing in the morning.

“Can we go out today? Together? Spend time...maybe?” Namjoon shrugs, voice still groggy from the deep sleep. You begin typing a message to reply to your friends, “Today? Sweetie I can’t, I made plans with my girls to have a spa day today… maybe next time, alright?” Not once you looked at him and you put a fist in front of your mouth as you yawned. You weren’t taking the conversation as serious as he was.

“I miss you…” he confessed, “so so much.” “I miss you too baby boy, but we can’t always have what we want,” you scrolled down your phone, mindlessly. “Can’t you do something about the spa day?” he persuaded.

“It’s been booked and paid in full,” you stood up and tied your hair up in a messy bun, “Look, my love, sometimes we have to learn to be apart. Have some space.” You stressed on the word ‘space’ and it hits Namjoon like a truck. And in your face, you were implying that it’s exactly what he taught. Unfortunately. You walked past him and disappear down the hall, your back growing smaller and smaller, the farther you get from him.

Right. Space.

You’re in the bathroom now, getting ready to leave the house again and Namjoon sat on the sofa, thinking of what he had done. For you to behave like this.

A few weeks ago, Namjoon returns home from being away for months. He has five weeks off. But his five weeks off doesn’t mean that he won’t be working. It meant, he has five weeks to finish writing the lyrics of the last few songs that may be included in the album. But it was a difficult theme to begin with, and he had been returning home, stressed. You’ve been a great help in reducing it. Cooking his favourite meal, driving him to places, hiking, walking endlessly etc. But one day, he felt smothered.

Usually, he wasn’t bothered by it. He was used to having you around, sitting on his lap, searching on his laptop instead of yours because his is always up and running, ready for use. So when he was in the middle of writing, you walked in with a mouthful of cookie, pulling his chair back like you always do, and sat in his lap to search for ‘Adverse Event Following Immunisation’ or simply, AEFI, since you were watching a debate between pro-choice and pro-vaccines in the television. It was a rerun and all your married friends in the chat room was discussing it, because they had children, asking you for explanation. But you can’t explain something you don’t understand, can you? This will be a quick revision and it could have waited but Namjoon snapped.

“Can’t you search it on your phone or something?” Namjoon spat, leaning back in his chair and you replied, “I wanted to but my phone died.” “I was literally doing my work, babe,” he sounds dejected and it didn’t take a genius to tell. “I’m sorry, let me just have a quick read-through,” you retorted.

“Please get off my lap…” his voice died. And you get off immediately, but move your hand to the mouse trying to close the window that you’ve used. “It’s suffocating…” he added and your heart tugged. But he isn’t finished there,

“What’s a guy gotta do, to get some space around here, geez.”

You clicked the close button quickly and swallowed a bitter gulp of saliva when it pools. You took his empty mug and smiled, “I’ll just get this refilled for you, hold on for a sec.” Trying to change the topic.

But he knows his words hurt you. That’s why he ran his palm down his face, with a sharp exhale through his nose and hand covering his mouth. Shortly after, he dashed out after you. And it all begin with a click of the door shut.

He saw you standing in the kitchen in front of the coffee machine, with the coffee not yet quite ready. Your butt sticking out while your head disappear in the freezer part of the fridge, on top. The cold air escaping on the sides then, you slammed it shut, after you fetch a popsicle. Namjoon couldn’t find a good word to say so he started with a soft call of your name and you hummed, cheerfully, as if he didn’t just hurt you. You’re a good pretender.

“I didn’t mean--” “--no, no, it’s okay. I totally understand you,” you smacked your lips together, licking the sweet and sour popsicle. Namjoon leans his elbow on the kitchen counter but you were standing by the sink, away from him. “You need space, I understand. I can be very smothering,” you gave him a lopsided smile, biting the top of the popsicle and chew the ice. “Work is very stressful, and sometimes we need to not be around people, I get that. It’s okay… go, go back to work, I’ll send you your coffee when it’s brewed, no worries…”

Weary of the seemingly positive response he had, Namjoon reassured that things were okay by asking, “We’re good, right?” You nodded, enthusiastically. But pays more attention to your popsicle than you do him. In your head you were already exercising a plan to leave him space, as he wanted. Or preferred. You admit it, you were too clingy. Too needy. So, you cut him off.

As he walked away, he couldn’t ignore the ominous feeling, lurking in his chest, spreading like wildfire, like something is about to go wrong. Very wrong.

You put on your red beanie, cream long sleeves, with a grey cardigan and jeans, ready to leave. There’s honks outside and your friends were waiting already. You managed to pass a quick bye to Namjoon and dashed out the front door and Namjoon’s despair begins. He has to get you back. And he had no idea how to do that. This space was too much space. He had to make it clear of what he wants and he has to woo you again. Question is, how?

Namjoon interfered with your changes, first of all. The separate toothbrush holder, gone. Your toiletries mixed up with his, like it used to. He vacuumed the whole house while you’re gone and put an incense to set the mood. You might have already eaten outside when you’re out with your friends but you wouldn’t pass a good steak.

Yoongi came over with bags of groceries, and rang the door multiple times. As he walks in to Namjoon holding the door open, he grumbled, “What the fuck did you do this time?”

Because the last Yoongi had to come was when Namjoon put his red socks in the pool of your white blouses for laundry that you loved very much and tried to play dumb.

“You asked her for space, rudely?” Yoongi thundered, “I don’t know if my steak is going to save you this time, man. I wouldn’t have let you live.” “I know, I know… I learnt my lesson, that’s why I’ve gone to great lengths. I plan to have this dinner with her, and talk about how we met. I bought her the frozen yoghurts that she loves, the one we had when we started dating. Then I’ll wash the plates while she showers,” Namjoon briefly tell Yoongi the plan.

“Why would you be washing the plates? You should be dicking her down,” Yoongi scowled. “I know my girl… she likes watching me do chores, it turns her on. But she’s rarely home to watch me so tonight, I’ll make her sit and watch,” Namjoon bit his smile, wiggling in his chair watching Yoongi cook, a diabolical plan in his mind. “What time is she coming home?” Yoongi asked.

Namjoon smacked his lips, and, “About that… can you call her for me? She won’t answer my calls and comes up with stupid excuses on why she couldn’t.” Yoongi dials you up, and after only two rings, you answered, “Hey Yoongs!”

“Hey… I’ve been trying to reach Namjoon, but I couldn’t get through his phone, do you know where he is?” Yoongi lied, and Namjoon sitting very close to Yoongi, that their shoulders touch. “Joon? He’s home, all that I know of. I’m outside, but I’ll be home at around 8pm, to check on him, will that be okay though?” you sounded like you’re in a busy street, walking on the sidewalks. “Yeah, that’s alright. Where are you? Why is it so noisy?” Yoongi asked trying to pry your location.

After a pause, you answered, “At the mall, I’ve been here all day. Window shopping, didn’t want to disturb Namjoon working…”

Namjoon dropped his head and stood up straight. Whatever Yoongi said after that, didn’t register in his head. He was feeling beyond guilty. You didn’t have a spa booked today, you don’t have plans with your friends, at all. You were at the mall, doing nothing, so you could be giving him space. Yoongi ended the call and finished setting up.

“Fix it buddy, I know you can,” Yoongi slapped Namjoon’s back firmly once, “I’m off.” “Thanks, hyung…” Namjoon sent Yoongi down and split second after that, your car entered the parking lot. At 8pm, like you said. Namjoon watched you from behind the pillar, looking at you with sad and frightened eyes. You stepped outside the car and locked them before heading to the lobby where Namjoon was walking out from his hiding to reveal himself.

“Hey…” you sang melodically, “I think I know you.” You beamed at the sight of him and he passed you a broken smile, extending his arm out so you could hold them but you held his sleeves instead. He had to manually put your hand where it was supposed to be, walking into the elevator. His chest heaves up and down at the most skin contact he had all week.

“How was the spa?” Namjoon asked, already knowing the truth.

“Expensive,” you lied, before shrugging the cold away. Namjoon kept silent, knowing that you decide to tell him lies. He walks ahead of you and a relaxed stride but you softly called his name, and stopped his swing of step. Then he turns his face to the side at you. You stood there, tiny and vulnerable, like how remembered.

“I lied,” you confessed, “I went to the mall and strolled around aimlessly after my friends dropped me back to the house at noon. I didn’t want to come home because I know you need to work… I’m sorry I lied.”

Namjoon extended his hand again, waiting for you to take them.

He entered the house and held the door open to let his lady love enter. “Wow, this smells really good, is that steak?” you commented and took off your jacket, “You have the incense lit up, what’s the occasion?” “Winning you back?” Namjoon tilted his head and pulled out a chair, waiting for you to sit on them before he pushes your chair in, all chivalry. “Chivalry is not dead,” you gushed as he took the seat on your left. He can’t bear to sit on the opposite end of the table, wanting to be as close as possible with you.

“Yoongi cooked this, didn’t he?” you asked. “But the idea was mine,” Namjoon shoved a grilled potato in his mouth, munching with a smile.

“We hadn’t spend time together, and I haven’t catched up with you in forever,” Namjoon shrugs. “Well, there’s not much to talk about from my side...I was trying to get more things to be busy with, and it’s kind of hard when my universe is centred around you, you know…” you gingerly cut a piece of meat with forks and knife.

Namjoon goes on talking about his friends at the office, and you returned with the similar situation with your family and friends. He learned that you attended an art workshop without him, and also got your laptop fixed while simultaneous working on an article on a rented laptop.

“It was rented… you didn’t notice?” you exclaimed with a huge smile. “It looks exactly like the one I got you!” he shot as loud.

“It was full of scratches, I would never let anything scratch my beloved laptop, not after all the services it had done for me,” you swirled the apple juice in your wine glass, taking a sip, while looking at Namjoon through your lashes. He rubs his hands together before he remembers he has desserts in the fridge with a small, “Oh!”

“Mango flavoured frozen yoghurts, for dessert,” Namjoon placed one cup on the table for you as he cleared the used dishes away and have it piled in the sink. You clean up your food really well. Maybe you didn’t have dinner after all.

“The same brand we got back when we’re dating?” You asked. “The very brand…” Namjoon confirmed. “They don’t sell these in the mart anywhere nearby, anymore,” you twisted your face while inhaling the mango yoghurt, pretty quickly for someone who had just eaten a plate of steak. “There is one small market down the west side,” Namjoon leans back, and took time with his cup.

“I like this flavour, reminds me of you,” you suddenly say. “Why is that?” Namjoon licked his lips, smiling at you, pressing his dimples. “Our first kiss tastes like mango,” casting your eyes down to your final spoon of yoghurt, you avoided Namjoon’s sultry gaze successfully. “If we kiss now, it’ll taste like mango,” he suggested but you just smiled and pushed the empty cup to him.

“I think,” you exhaled, “I’m going to shower after doing the dishes.” “No, I’m doing the dishes,” Namjoon passed his yoghurt, “I couldn’t finish mine, can you do the honor?” “You didn’t eat much of it at all!” Your eyes followed him to the kitchen. He chuckles but now has positioned himself by the sink, already washing off the first layer of grease on the plates, which weren’t many.

He hoped you still sit there, watching.

“You’re still there right?” he asked. “Yup…” your voice is muffled but it made him smile.

“The reason why I prepared this dinner is because I’ve been thinking about our conversations, regarding....space; that we had a couple of weeks ago?” he gave you his back, but you heard every word, clearly. “Yeah,” you felt the tension rising already. “I realised pretty much, immediately, how tactless my words were and even though I try to make sure everything is okay, by blatantly asking about them,” he pauses, and resumed after a deep inhale, “I know it’s not. I know you’re not.”

You hummed back, an indication that he has your attention.

“So this is me, fixing the shitty thing I did…” he sets one plate on the dish rack to dry, washing the other one now.

“I honestly feel that it’s truly understandable, that you need your space and I’ve been spoilt by you all these years, into walking in without permission, so I think it’s fair that I got called out the way I did. And I agree that I was too clingy, or needy…” So I gave you the taste of your own words, you thought.

“You set boundaries, and I understood that,” you added. “I didn’t mean putting your toothbrush in a separate holder; I didn’t mean you slipping in past midnight without telling me where you went; and I certainly didn’t mean for you to leave me in bed alone and left my calls unanswered. I needed space, but this was too much space,” he softens.

“I’m sorry, I was wrong,” you spat. “I didn’t plan for this dinner date, after so long, to result in another fight,” he turns around after the last dish set on the racks and wiped his hands dry with a cloth. Then he gives you, his back, to rearrange the chopping board back to where it was, the spatulas, the thongs, cleaning up after Yoongi’s stellar performance today. He made a mental note that he has to thank him later. He resumes,

“Through all these years that we’ve spent, we learn more and more things about one another. I love that we understand despite what’s not being said, and sometimes, even better than what we’ve verbally spoke of. I noticed that, I tend to be harsh in the way I put things. As how Taehyung would remind me. Shifting from being a leader at work, deciding and micro-managing pretty much everything, I admit that sometimes, I bring that attitude back home. On you. I realised that especially for you, I have to be careful on how I say it and when I say it. I’m still working on it. We don’t spend much time together to see how much I’ve progressed, and the times we already have wasted, because of what I said when I’m piled with work, certainly didn’t make things better…” He added a bitter chuckle.

He collects the cutleries and have it dried on a cloth, he turns the dish conditioner rack on for the night and then kept the peppers and salt on the top rack.

“I mean it, when I say I missed you, I miss us,” he murmurs to his chest, he looks up to see your eyes brimming with tears.

Your lips quivering, as a steady trail of tears fell down your cheek and settled on your chin before it pooled, and dropped to your lap when its weight was too much to bear. You roughly wiped it away with the back of sleeves, turning your face to the side.

“You don’t know what it’s like, having to be apart from someone you love, and be expected to wait in vain, no matter how long it takes, no matter how far; you just have to be fine,” your voice trembles as you spoke.

Namjoon didn’t interfere you and he stood there, listening. “I have this much time with my husband, just this much, before he has to go again, and I wanted to be as close as I can, with him…” you held your breath and resumed, “your words struck me at the wrong place, at the wrong time,” You wiped your tears away, harshly again. It just keeps falling doesn’t it? You felt pathetic.

Namjoon charges forward to you, and knelt next to your dining chair where you were seated. He gathered your hand but you needed them to cover your face so he covered both of his palm on your knees, instead. He looks at you with those doe eyes, pleading you for forgiveness.

“I did you wrong, didn’t I?” Namjoon purred, trying to look at your face, but you kept hiding it from view. “Fuck yeah you did,” you cussed, pressing the heel of your palms into the sockets of your eyes.

He rubs your clothed thigh, up and down, brushing his lips on your knee, pressing kisses on them. The only thing accessible for him right now.

“You think it didn’t hurt me? Having to stay away from you? But I had to persevere… because I had to, because you didn’t want me there,” you spoke through muffled cries. “I want you always,” Namjoon corrected you, “I do. I lashed out on you, like that. That wasn’t a healthy way of handling it.” “Namjoon, we need a code. Like, a way of saying ‘I need space’,” you started to gather your thoughts.

You put your hands in his, sniffing, and tipping your eyes up, in thoughts. Your face is red and flushed, your tear-stained cheeks, to Namjoon, you looked beautiful. Effortlessly stunning. For his eyes only. Your lashes are wet, nose turning pink, lips puffy and soft. Your voice was nasal, and you’re having hiccups. It was a painful sight, but adorable. Adorably painful. Namjoon didn’t want to ever see it again.

“We need to think of something that isn’t too strong because I have a weak heart,” you had trouble swallowing and breathing, post-crying, but it didn’t stop you from revising a good word to use, instead of ‘smothering’.

Namjoon pulled both of your knuckles and kissed each one of them, tenderly. He gave you a hug and you cried more. This was all you ever wanted. Your face in his nape, him nuzzling his nose on your shoulder. Namjoon clenches his eyes, twitching his face like he was scolding himself mentally.

“Can I please kiss you?” Namjoon whispered to your ears, feeling you pull away from the hug. “Hurry the hell up, what are you doing,” you scolded him.

He lands his lips on yours, kneading his flesh against your warm and soft ones, nibbling on the lower half, and tipping your chin up when you’re moving downwards. He lifts your arms to rest on either side of his shoulder, and you circled your arms around him in response. He switches to the other side, clashing noses with you, sucking your soul as gently as he can afford to.

You come into habit of lightly scratching his scalp with your nails when you kiss, tugging his hair once in a while, and it feels good. He would moan into your mouth at every tug, growing bolder with his tongue, biting gently, the way he remembers you like.

He lifts you from the chair without breaking the kiss, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he expertly maneuvered his way to the bedroom. The door is kicked shut behind him.

“And this is the baby shoes…” he showed you on camera. “And what are those for?” you teased him.

“Uhhh, I just thought it was cute, so I bought it,” Namjoon answered. “Funny, because I just bought baby socks,” you fall to your side on the bed, and took them out from the drawer to show him.

Namjoon gasped out loud, cutely. Then the camera pans to him smiling, till his eyes turns into a pair of crescents. He set his phone on the work desk of his office, where you could see and hear him typing. His eyes tipped up to the screen, looking very busy.

“Are we initiating ‘cave mode’ now?” you asked, crawling into the thick duvet. Namjoon’s side of the bed, empty. “No!” he exclaimed, “Not yet. Please. Cave mode is dreadful… I hate it,” Namjoon panics and then sombers down. You could see from the way his shoulders dropped and immediately stopped typing. “But you need it…” you sang, smiling teasingly at the screen.

He pouts. Here we go. It seems like the last time the word Space was used, traumatized him, so to speak. Or he is just being cute.

“You know you can’t miss me if I’m with you…” you coaxed him, “And your kisses are sexier when it has been awhile.”

He inhales deeply through his nose, and exhaling, “Fine.”

“NASA mode?” NASA mode.”

Video calls end. Jungkook walks in just in time to hear the ending of that call.

‘What’s the difference between cave and NASA mode?” “Cave is when I need space, NASA is when she needs space. You know, like Ariana Grande’s song, NASA?”

Namjoon started singing an off-pitch version of that song, doing the little dance in his swiveling chair, amusing Jungkook. Yes, his hyung has this cute side to him, too.

♫ Give you the whole world, I'ma need space I’ma need space, I'ma, I'ma need You know I'm a star; space, I'ma need space I'ma need space, I'ma, I'ma need space (N-A-S-A) ♫

588 notes · View notes