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floralseokjin · 5 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

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punkrock-writer · 3 years

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Space Cowboy- part 5

Never Fight a Man With a Perm

Pairing- Din Djarin x F!OC

Warnings- Swearing, Mentions Blood, Canon Typical Violence. The Gang from Chapter 6 are dicks.

A/N- Howdy!! I’m so sorry this took so long to come out. I had a bad case of brain rot this past week and did not want to type, but it’s here and I hope ya’ll like it! I’m kind of nervous about this chapter because this was the situation that inspired the entire story, so please let me know what you think!

I’m going to try to have the next chapter out quicker! Put who knows, I got worms in my brain!

Masterlist AO3

After almost taking another roll around the ship — thanks to Din's lack of a warning — Sedona was now aware of what hyperspace felt like. It was actually rather calm, quiet, and still. She wished she could see it, but she didn't really know if she should attempt to enter the cockpit. Instead, turning to face her bags, she figured it was a good time to get some real clothes on. The child cooed sadly when she set him down in the sleeping compartment, and though she hated to, she ignored him and knelt by her suitcase. Searching for something somewhat warm through the clothes that were packed for Florida was proving difficult. She settled on black leggings, an old grey Ron Jon Surf Shop hoodie, and a pair of soft crew socks. A sports bra and a fresh pair of underwear completed the 'look' and she gathered her things and headed to the shower room.

Not before quickly turning back and grabbing her deodorant, because, yuck.

With a deep breath, she decided it was finally time to look at herself.

Nothing was exciting or truly different to note about the person reflected back to her in the foggy mirror. It was the same girl, blue eyes, short brown hair, but now there was a brand new massive bruise on her left temple. Her dark circles were deeper, and her eyes were tired. But other than the wound there was nothing new. She discarded her pajamas, and slipped into the clean clothes, she never thought it would feel this good to be fully covered. Her arms all the way to her toes now concealed in comfortable fabric, and she was grateful. She quickly put her hair into a folded bun, and set to her second task, putting that extra bacta patch on her head.

Peli made it look much easier. Whatever it was, was slimy and hard to get a grip on, but once it was placed, it stuck. So now she had a slightly lopsided, oversized band-aid on her head. And she knew it was going to hurt like a bitch to yank out of her hair. Taking one last look in the mirror, she sighed.

Honestly, she looked like she was about to go take a plane trip back home, and it tugged her heart a little bit.

Shaking her head she picked her things back up and opened the door to exit into the hull. A shiny helmet of beskar startled her, he must've just jumped down from the cockpit, as he was facing her through the ladder. She tried not to think too much about the way he stared for a bit too long, most likely just assessing her change in appearance. Before she could say anything he turned sharply, stepping over to where the child pouted in the sleeping compartment. She scooted by them, heading to put her things back in her bag. And when she straightened up to see what he was doing, he was already halfway up the ladder, taking the child with him.

Sedona tried not to dwell on it too much, it's not like he knew her, he barely even trusted her. He didn't owe her any more kindness than he was already giving her. But it really didn't help when she felt like she knew him. She needed to get that idea out of her head, she didn't know jack shit about what went through his head. Seeing someone on screen is so much different than actually being around them, and Sedona had to make sure she didn't get too comfortable too fast— she couldn't afford any slip-ups. So for now she would take it slow, tiptoe around the Crest, and do what she needed to do when called.

In pursuit of being quiet, she decided now might be a good time to check her phone. She settled herself in the sleeping compartment, purse in her lap, and plucked it from the bag. The time read 10:34 am, and obviously, there was no way of telling if that was right. Her calendar read two days since she had been ripped from her hotel room, and she was pretty sure that would be reliable. As long as she had some way of knowing how long she'd been here, she could keep herself grounded.

It didn't even cross her mind that she should try to find some way to get back home.

Sedona dozed off after a while, curled around her purse in the sleeping compartment. Her circadian rhythm was thrown off, or maybe it was like some kind of space-sickness. She was just tired, and she didn't know what else to do. The plot was getting scrambled in her head, and until Din jogged her mind in some way, she wasn't going to risk getting a headache thinking about it.

So she slept, the soft hum of hyperspace lulling her into relaxation, no matter how uncomfortable the bed was.

~o~o~o~

That was how Din found her a few hours later. Curled like a lothcat around one of her smaller bags. The child gurgled in happiness at the sight of her— he was the reason they were down there, wailing incessantly at the ladder. He didn't understand why he liked her so much, but if he trusted anyone, it was the child. So he set him down next to her knees, a position they had just recently been in. The child began climbing up her legs, and Din could only look on in amusement as she grumbled something incoherent.

The toddler reached his intended destination, her shoulder, and began to tap his tiny hands on her cheek. Din couldn't stop a small smile from breaking his features, thankful for the helmet once again. Her eyes popped open, panic clear on her features as she turned to look at what was tapping her face, and a smile overtook her.

"Hey little guy, how'd you get up there." Din pretended not to notice the roughness of her voice or the sleepy smile that turned to face him. "Oh I see now, you had an accomplice."

She slowly sat up, taking care to hold the child steady. She folded her legs in front of her, setting him in her lap. The child smiled up at him, and before he could stop himself, a gloved hand reached out and stroked his ear. Din wasn't used to showing affection in front of others, especially people he didn't fully trust. But the atmosphere was so relaxed, and it seems his body reacted before his mind could stop it.

"Did we stop somewhere?" Her quiet voice broke him out of his trance, his head snapped back up to meet hers. She looked worried, her eyes searched the helmet, and her teeth caught her bottom lip. Din told himself he was just observing a possible threat, analyzing her tells.

Subconsciously, that was a different story.

"No," he paused to clear his throat when it came out in a whisper. "I've picked up a job, I'm changing our course, and we'll be there in an hour... I just—" well Din didn't really know why exactly he felt the need to warn her. "I just wanted to know if you had... anything to tell me." Right, just trying to get information. Her eyes seemed to light up in recognition, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Who- or what is the job exactly." She looked confused still, her eyes zoned in on something in the distance, deep in thought.

"It's with an old... acquaintance of mine." His voice was rougher than he intended, still not really enjoying the idea of the job. But by the way her eyes darkened, he knew it was probably going to be a big mistake.

~o~o~o~

Sedona's mind instantly hooked onto the information and dragged it from the depths of the scramble. This situation, she knew well. This episode, she had watched, many times. For the plot... not for the way the red lights danced off beskar or the amazingly hot fight scenes.

No for the plot.

She knew what she needed to do.

"They betray you, they're going to try and shove you in a cell and leave you there... and a droid tries to shoot the baby— and they're all massive dicks, every one of them." Okay. That sounded crazy, she didn't mean for everything to tumble out like that. According to the way Din suddenly stood straight and alert, she probably didn't say the right things. "Wait... but you get out of it, no one gets hurt— except for the assholes— but they deserved it a-and you get money."

He just stood there, still as a rock. She couldn't imagine how all of that sounded to him. He probably didn't even know what the mission was supposed to be, and she had already informed him it was doomed from the start.

Yeah, I gotta work on the info delivery.

He let out a long sigh. His fingers twitched at his side, he probably would've rubbed his forehead in frustration if he could. She could feel herself shrinking in the silence, she unconsciously held onto the baby in her lap a little tighter. He cooed at her, seemingly sensing her anxiety. His little 3 clawed hands tapped at hers that held his waist.

"Well... like I said, an hour." He then turned and quickly made his way to the ladder. Climbing into the cockpit in almost record time. Sedona let a long sigh escape her, bringing one hand up to rub her eyes. She wasn't tired anymore, anxiety had squandered that quickly.

She had to either, A. Figure out some way to keep Din from being tricked and captured. Or B. Make sure Grogu doesn't alert the droid of his presence. For some reason, the situation felt wrong. She knew this mission was on course to go sour, but there was a bad feeling whispering at the edges of her mind.

Everything was feeling super, extra, bad and it was making her stomach hurt.

Or maybe she was just fucking starving.

Sedona realized she had never eaten the 'bar' Peli had given her. And an all-liquid diet the day before probably wasn't helping her whole, situation. Moving the child from her lap, she placed her feet on the ground. Thankful for her socks as the cold of the metal seeped through the fabric. She walked over to her suitcase— not really remembering where she had put the food— the entire evening leading up to her fight with Toro was a blur. When she didn't find it in her purse, she searched through her suitcase. Her hands touched the foil wrapping, and suddenly there was another presence at her side.

The little green gremlin was a bloodhound for food, it was like he read her mind and teleported to her. Letting out an excited squeal when she brought the bar into view, Sedona couldn't help but laugh with him. Sitting cross-legged in front of her suitcase she invited him to sit with her. And with more adorable grunts and snorts he sat down in between her legs, eyes never leaving the bar.

"Okay we can share, but don't tell your dad" she whispered, he made a soft coo in response. The bar looked like someone had put a granola bar through a grinder, and then reformed it back into a bar. Not exactly the most appetizing thing, but food was food, and the little guy seemed excited. She broke off a small piece— yes she had witnessed the child swallow a frog whole— but he was so little in front of her, so she went by baby rules and gave him something small. He grabbed it in his little hands, and then she broke off a piece for herself.

It was dry, and tasted kind of like a protein bar, but not at all like a protein bar. It was just different, but with the way the child inhaled it, she knew it was probably worth eating. They carried on like this till it was gone, Grogu munching happily, not minding the crumbs that fell into his lap. She was able to choke it down with the assistance of the water bottle that still sat in her purse. But eating didn't seem to help the way her stomach twisted in worry. When she wasn't distracting herself by watching the child, her mind wandered dangerously.

She couldn't tell if the walls her mind had put up the moment she dropped on the Crest were finally crumbling. Or if something was actually wrong. Her head was starting to hurt again, and now with a stomach ache, she felt like she was starting to break down. She needed another distraction.

Crumbling up the wrapper she turned to her suitcase. The child babbled a little, probably wondering if she had more food. Instead, she was just looking for anything; she moved through everything in the bag, toiletries, bras, a journal. And then she felt something solid. Her boots! She had honestly figured she didn't have any shoes here. Those had been the first thing to come out of her suitcase when she got to her hotel. But now, pulling her work boots from the depths, it was the first time she had actually been excited to see them. They were beat up hiking boots, with the perfect amount of ankle support and non-slip bottom to make it in space.

"Well, are you gonna let me put these on or what?" She said to the child in her lap, he tilted his head with a coo. She slowly started to straighten her legs, he made a squeal and then started to wiggle away from her. She laughed, helping him get off her lap and setting him to the side. He grunted, loudly, instantly very mad at her. She chuckled again, trying not to notice the way her hands shook as she began to lace up her boots.

Grogu toddled over to the ladder, reaching his arms up toward the cockpit. She couldn't help the smile, she finished tying her boots, standing, and headed over to the child. He was hanging from the 3rd rung of the ladder, obviously getting his speed from his father, she was able to catch him just as his 3 fingers slid off the metal. She rose and looked up with anticipation, obviously he wanted to go up there, and that meant she would have to... talk to Din.

She swallowed, but the baby in her arms let out an impatient squeal, reaching his arms up. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Um... D-Mando" she called, catching herself on the name quickly. "G-The kid wants to come up, i-is it alright if I bring him up." She hated the way she was stumbling through this, it shouldn't be that difficult to ask, but she almost shaking in fear at the prospect of being dropped off on the next planet. Her subconscious was telling her the Din she knew wouldn't do that, but this wasn't the Din she 'knew', this was a stranger. God, why did this have to be so complicated?

There was a long daunting pause. "Just don't touch anything." She let out a sigh of relief, and quickly attempted the climb to the cockpit. Proving to be much trickier with one hand. Her head breached the hole, and in front of her was something amazing. The cockpit of the Razor Crest lit up with the blue streaks of hyperspace. She stopped, awestruck at all of the buttons and levers, all of the details laid out before her. She didn't even notice the child wiggling out of her grasp.

It was beautiful, but also so terrifying. She watched the expanse of space whiz by, something her mind could've never been able to comprehend. And as she stared, she didn't notice when the pilot's chair slowly turned.

"You can come inside." She jumped at his voice, eyes meeting the helmet she didn't know was facing her. She quickly shut her mouth, just now realizing Grogu had made his way to Din's lap. Slowly, she finished the climb up the ladder and found herself at the door to the cockpit. Tentatively she stepped inside, eyes still wide in wonder, and made her way to the chair behind Din's left shoulder. He turned back to the controls, or more back to making sure the child didn't touch anything. She sat down slowly, still not entirely certain this was all real.

Swirling blue was constantly moving above and before her, it was mesmerizing, she felt herself getting lost in it. She could probably look at it for the rest of her life. It was the perfect distraction. Or until someone broke her from her daze, but she didn't expect that to happen anytime soon. Instead, she sat quietly, trying to take up as little space in the room as she could. Her thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind, she was allowed this brief moment of peace.

Sedona had held it together surprisingly well, though it was more likely she was in shock. Numb is what she would call it, seeing everything moving around her, but she didn't really feel it. A mild form of disassociation is probably what a therapist would tell her, her body was in survival mode while her brain just followed, screaming from the shadows. But at this current moment, her mind was quiet, the rolling blue was enough.

Comfortable silence, the baby sleeping, his snores being the only thing breaking through the hum of hyperspace. The pair sat quietly for what seemed to be a long time. It was the first moments of calm both had experienced at the same time, hopefully, it wouldn't be the last. In the past, the silence would have irked her, gnawed at her stomach. She probably would've started a conversation with anyone in the room. But now, it felt okay, her mind felt at ease for the first time since she'd got here. She ignored the voice that whispered, maybe it's him.

A sudden beeping broke through the serene atmosphere, Sedona jumped, while Din only moved his helmet. His hands reached out to flick some switches and punch some buttons.

She secretly wished she might be able to figure out what it all meant, but she wasn't going to get her hopes up.

"We're dropping out of hyperspace, hold on." It was an off-hand comment she realized because she didn't even have time to straighten in her spine when the ship seemed to lurch forward. Her hands flew to her sides, gripping the seat quickly. With the sudden movement, all of her anxieties flew into her throat. And as another giant space ship came into view, another emotion came forward.

Rage.

"Oh, those fuckers." The words were growled out before she even knew her mouth was open. Her eyes widening in surprise as a T-shaped visor snapped to face her. She could only shrug in response, it was the truth. Deep down, she was glad to know her shock-induced state hadn't taken everything from her, she could still talk some smack.

That was going to cause problems.

"You're staying on the ship, with the child." He had turned back to the controls, grasping the handles with gloved hands. The child in question had just woken up, cooing curiously at the scene change. "Make sure he doesn't cause any trouble, or whatever you said happens." She heard him and understood. But she was focused on trying to figure out how the hell she was going to hold her tongue when she knew what was about to happen. Din seemed to notice her unease, his helmet shifted slightly toward her, most likely confused by the white-knuckle grip she still had on the seat.

"You're going to have to gag me." The realization came suddenly, it was the only way, she did not trust herself to keep quiet. Din fully spun to face her now, even without seeing his face she could tell he was surprised and mad. She aimed for his eyes beneath the black visor, "It's the only way to shut me up." He let out a long sigh, that ended more in a frustrated growl.

"Are you serious?" His voice was sharp, serious disbelief. She nodded, it was ridiculous she knew, but with all the choice words swirling in her head, and the way she didn't have full control of herself, it really was the only way. With another growl-sigh he leaned down, ripping off a strip of material from his cape, and handed it to her, then he more or less shoved the child in her lap. "Just go— take him to the sleeping compartment, and... do it yourself."

She stood and left quickly, not wanting to anger him further. She staggered her way down the ladder, Grogu laughing at her struggles. She was panicking, her eyes darted over everything quickly, setting the child in the compartment she went over to her things. She zipped her suitcase closed, then hooked the handle to one of the nets that hung on the wall, hoping that would keep it out of way. Then with her purse, she made her way over to Grogu and climbed in after him. He babbled excitedly, not picking up on the frazzled emotions that were rolling off her in waves.

"We are going to have a totally chill time in here." She said to the child, though it was also mostly to herself. She adjusted till her back was against the wall, and allowed Grogu to clamber onto her lap. "It's gonna be totally cool and nothing bad is going to happen, alright?" Her voice had risen multiple octaves, and it seemed the gremlin had finally caught on to her panic. He tilted his head at her, making a much smaller, almost sadder sound. She instantly felt bad; making shushing noises, she rubbed his little back as he pouted up at her. The ship started to wobble, Din was maneuvering it into the bigger space ship, she held onto the little creature. And with a big thump, they were stopped.

Sedona let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Grogu's ears seemed to perk up at that, he settled down onto her lap. Listening carefully to the noises above her, she could hear Din moving around before steps began to descend on the ladder. He paused in front of the compartment, carefully observing the situation. Sedona could only stare back, doing her best not to let him know how scared she was, but he probably had a fear sensor on his helmet. Before he could turn away her voice betrayed her again.

"Di-Mando... could I have a weapon." It was a whisper, she was doing the best she could to hold herself together. But this was becoming more and more real by the second. He stared at her for much longer than she wanted, even Grogu made a small whine at the atmosphere. Then his hand moved to his wrist, tapping something, and a compartment opened adjacent to the one she was in. She peaked around the corner, eyes widening at all of the weapons laid out. And she almost laughed at the sight of her pink taser, placed there among all of the space gadgets. He grabbed that, setting it in front of her.

Without a word, he turned, fingers working at his wrist again. Almost simultaneously, the weapons doors and the door to her compartment shut. While the side ship door opened. She and Grogu were alone in the dimly lit compartment. He turned to look at her, head tilting in confusion. And she could only shrug in response.

There was silence on the ship for what felt like hours. Sedona and Grogu sat quietly, only the child breaking the silence with his babbles. She would shush him quickly; not really knowing when the crew would be joining the ship, and she didn't want their cover blown sooner than it needed to be. When his fussing became a bit more persistent, she gave him her keys that were still tucked in her purse. His big eyes widened further, entranced by the shiny metal and jingles.

Because how else do you calm a baby you don't know what to do with, you give it your keys. Fuck.

A heavy sigh passed through her as she leaned her head back against the wall. She's trying desperately to keep her emotions under control, obviously, Grogu could sense them, so if she was calm, he was calm. And that was most important right now. Her mind was constantly on edge, just waiting for something to happen. She didn't want to tie her mouth yet, fearing it would startle the child. Instead, she chewed on her lip, distracted by the soft tinkling of her keys.

The wait was soon over.

Metallic footsteps were making their way up the ramp. Thinking fast she tied the strip of fabric around her mouth, then held the child close. He cooed, moving his head up to face her before his ears flicked up in surprise. She tried to give him a smile.

It definitely looked absolutely horrifying.

His little features contorted into a frown, and a whimper was heard before the footsteps on the ship drew closer. They both snapped their heads to stare at the unmoving compartment door. Ears perked, listening closely as she heard someone ascend to the cockpit. There were noises outside of the ship, people were gathering, she felt her heart rate increase sharply. She squeezed them further into the corner of the compartment. The mattress creaked so loudly in the silence, but thankfully the noises coming from above them seemed to drown it out.

Her brain had ceased its flow of information. She wasn't sure who entered the ship first, it could be Din for all she knew. But she knew there were about to be a lot more people, and then shit was going to go down. Her mouth had gone dry thanks to the fabric, and the child had started to whine. She tried to shush him, but it came out more in weird hissing sounds. His eyes bugged out as he looked at her in fear, pushing his arms against her chest. She moved to set him down behind her, pretending her heart didn't break at the sight. She maneuvered herself more to the front of the compartment, leaving the keys behind for him.

She almost didn't notice the grumbling that followed the metallic clink of someone leaving the ship. The person was complaining, aggressively, but the voice was definitely not human.

Of course. That shitty droid.

The one emotion that had been hardest to keep at bay was rising up again. It coiled in her throat, sharpening her tongue with nasty thoughts. She hated this group, and all the shit they say to Din and the violent betrayal. She didn't know how she was going to be able to handle it if it happens right in front of her— the fabric in her mouth was going to be her saving grace. She really did not want to risk making this even worse for Din than it already would be.

And sure, she knows they get their due karma in the end. But the nagging pit in her stomach, the feeling of wrong, was eating her alive. She reached for the taser that sat at the front of the compartment and maneuvered her back to Grogu. If that compartment opens, she was going to fight like hell.

And that's how she waited.

And waited.

Back turned to the child as he jangled her keys around. She waited as voices crept closer to the Crest. As someone made their way up the ramp, then another. Until something was set down with a heavy thump, and a murmur of voices filled the hull. No one was really saying anything of importance, just fighting about who got to sit where. Sedona turned her head back to the child, who was now also listening attentively. His ears perked, owlish eyes met hers, the keys now forgotten in his little hands. He made a small 'ooo' sound and pointed to the compartment door, and she shrugged, holding her finger up to her mouth in a shushing motion.

Then there was the sound of the hatch closing, her head snapped back to the door. Trying to picture the scene behind the metal. She heard someone climbing the ladder, and then there was more grumbling. It wasn't long after, the ship began to move, she braced her hands behind her back as the compartment rocked. She looked back at the child, who was now back to jangling the keys around, she tried not to cringe at the sound, hoping they couldn't hear it.

She couldn't help thinking how insane this was. She was sitting in a space ship with a little green alien, gagged, and listening to other aliens argue. Her breath had started to quicken, and she could feel her pulse thumping in her neck.

This is so fucked up. What the hell am I even doing here. I'm going crazy-

Her spiraling thoughts were cut off when she felt a small hand on her back. She turned, blinking away a tear that had formed in her eye. Grogu made a tiny coo, his eyes wide. She instantly felt bad, he could sense her distress and it was making him feel bad. But she almost let out a sob when the little creature leaned forward, setting both his arms on her back in a tiny hug. A strangled noise tore through her throat, lifting one of her hands to pat his wrinkled little head. He made a snorting noise, one of the cutest things in the world, before plopping down and playing with the keys again. The interaction so small, but it had immediately calmed her down.

God, I can see why everyone loves this little shit.

She felt the atmosphere speed up, and the telltale feeling of hyperspace overtook the ship. A sound she recognized made her snap her head back to the door. The weapons hold adjacent to the sleeping compartment was open. She hadn't even heard their earlier conversations, too entranced by the little guy. She couldn't remember who had opened the door, but from the grumbling, it sounded like the one she hated most. Everything was happening much faster, but it felt as if time had slowed. She distantly registered the thump of someone jumping down the ladder, then the doors closing, and someone immediately hitting them.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay. Okay. Okay, I get it. I'm a little particular about my personal space too." That voice, God she knew that voice. Her blood boiled as she listened further. "So let's just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don't have to see our faces anymore."

How ironic, she almost rolled her eyes.

"Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian." The voice was much closer than she wanted it to be.

"Well, apparently they're the greatest warriors in the galaxy." There was a pause, Sedona gritted her teeth around the cloth. "So they say"

"Then why are they all dead"

And there was laughter. She heard a sharp giggle, the kind that makes your lip curl. And she felt herself shaking— she wanted to say something so fucking bad. She didn't know how Din could just take all of this.

"Well, you flew with him, Xi'an— Is he as good as they say?"

"Ask him about the job on Alzoc 111." Their voices grated her ears. Subconsciously she really did want to know what happened on Alzoc 111"

"I did what I had to." But this voice, with his calculated roughness, broke her heart. She didn't know how much more she could take before words started leaving her mouth. She heard a female voice, and her hands curled into fists behind her. She could hear what they were saying, but it wasn't fully registering anymore. Her ears rung with rage, the feeling of the child still leaning against her back was the only thing keeping her from ripping off the gag and screaming.

Her eyes narrowed at the continued jeering and insults. She tried to blink away the tears of anger that burned her eyes. Pressing all of her weight into her arms, her muscles tense. Ready for what was coming next.

The ringing in her ears didn't stop, even as a fistfight took place outside her door.

Only when she was suddenly faced by the people she did not want to see, did everything come crashing back to the surface.

The trio looked at her in shock, Din out of her view. She sees Mayfield's mouth moving as he walks closer to her, but she only picked up the last of his sentence.

"— you get lonely up here buddy? Huh." He stepped up to the compartment, Xi'an sauntered after him. Sedona tried not to focus on the way the other woman's gaze twisted into disgust. She turned her head to meet all 3 of their eyes, Burg looking even more devil-like up close.

"Why do you have your bed warmer tied up like that huh?" Din didn't answer Mayfield, she couldn't even see him, but with the way Burg had his arm locked out of view, he was probably being held back. "Is that how he kept you, huh, Xi'an? Is that how he likes 'em?" The woman in question hissed in response, and she settled herself against the door. Knife still held loosely in her hand.

"Didn't take you for the type." She snarled at Din, her eyes predatory as they shifted away from Sedona. "Maybe that code of yours has made you soft."

And suddenly there was another voice. Though not really a voice, instead it's sounded like an angry cat in the other room. Muffled, and full of rage.

It wasn't till she noticed the others were just staring at her in silence, that she realized it was her. She was snarling like a rabid dog, her mouth has developed a mind of its own. Thankfully all the words were swallowed by the cloth.

"Well let's see what she has to say," Xi'an said with a sickening smile, sharpened yellow teeth on full display. The next actions happened so quickly, Sedona honestly didn't realize what transpired. There was a flash of metal, as Xi'an's hand darted out like a snake. A searing pain appeared on her left cheek, and the cloth holding her words in fell away. She felt herself gasp, her hand instantly flying up to cradle her cheek. And then there was laughing, the trio laughed at her pain, and it only made her angrier.

"I said," She placed her hand, now sticky with blood, behind her back. Bracing herself. "I've got a penchant for smokes and kicking douches in the mouth. Sadly for you, my last cigarette's gone out."

And with that statement, her right foot flew out. Connecting with Burg's jaw, a sickening crack rang through the hull.

Then there was chaos.

The Devaronian stumbled back, his own hand coming up to clutch his jaw with a growl. Mayfield and Xi'an jumped for their weapons. But before anyone else could cross the threshold of the sleeping compartment, there was a blaster shot— and the metal door collapsed shut. Din had shot the control panel to the door, no one could get in, or get out without the use of his fancy wrist control. There was aggressive banging on the door, Sedona feared it might dent. She could hear swearing and shouting from the other side, but she wasn't done. She sat up on her knees, slamming her hands against the metal a few times. If Din wasn't going to say it, she would.

"Fuck you Xi'an! I wanted to be your friend so bad!" She could hear an aggressive snarl over the other commotion. Burg roared, and then there was a particularly loud thump against the door.

"Fuck you, Burg! Your breath fucking reeks!" Her voice had a heavy growl in it, all of the rage she could muster put behind her words.

"And fuck you, Mayfield! Prison is going to make you it's bitch!" Her voice had risen to a scream to counteract the noise. And with a few more slaps against the metal, she sat back down. Her hand coming up to the cut on her cheek. Xi'an's blades were so sharp, they cut deep and thin. A perfect slice, that was going to leave a nasty scar. It was then she realized the other creature in the room.

Grogu let out soft whimpers at the commotion, he was trying to hide behind her purse. Her stomach dropped at the sight, instantly letting out a soft coo of her own, she reached her hand out to him, trying to let him know it would be okay. But another voice broke through the pandemonium.

"Dropping out of hyperspace now." She scooped up Grogu, and he let out a small cry of protest. But she knew what was coming next. The ship lurched foreword suddenly. "Commencing final approach now."

"Cloaking signal now" Grogu let out a scream as they were suddenly airborne. Sedona's head crashed against the ceiling of the compartment with a thump. They slammed back down, the wind getting knocked out of her lungs. Trying to catch her breath she glanced down at the child, who was relatively fine. Just panicking by the way his massive eyes stared up at her. The ship stopped with a heavy crash, and she heard the droid speaking again. But she was far more distracted by the little green hand straining to reach her cheek.

"I'll be okay buddy" she whispered, bringing her hand up to gently grab his. He frowned, babbling urgently at her. She gave him as much of a smile she could muster, hoping he accepted it. "You don't have to heal me, I'm all right." Truthfully, she wasn't really all right. Her cheek was burning, and from what she could feel, the cut ran from just under her jaw bone, all the way up to her cheekbone. A neat slice, that was still steadily leaking blood. She set Grogu to the side and reached for her purse, fishing out the travel pack of tissues, and holding one to the cut. It wasn't stitches or magical healing space goo, but she hoped it would at least stop her from bleeding all over Din's bed. A loud smack interrupted their tentative peace. Mayfield's voice followed.

"Don't think we forgot about you girl, we'll be back for you!" There was laughing, and for the first time since the door had opened, the wrongness flooded back to her stomach. She focused on taking deep even breaths, for the sake of the child who whimpered beside her. She heard a fast beeping, and then someone jumping from the ship. They were leaving, and her heart only seemed to race faster. She waited till she heard the particularly loud thump of Burg.

"Din," she cleared her throat, voice coming out raw. "Don't let them capture you." She wasn't sure if she was just talking to an empty hull, or if the Mandalorian could even hear her raspy voice.

She just hoped desperately if he had, he would listen.

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#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #din djarin x f!oc #din djarin x sedona #grogu #space cowboy #the child #sedona #star wars #the mandalorian crack #mando x oc #mando

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siriuslystargazing · 3 years

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Chapter 2 ~ Domestic bliss

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“It's okay, I'm here, you're safe with me,” Remus held onto Sirius as he continued to shake and sob into his shoulder. It was a good ten minutes before Sirius composed himself, he pulled away from remus looking into his worryful eyes

“There was a woman she-”

“You don't need to tell me, come, let's get you cleaned up. I'll make a start on some breakfast” Remus offered a smile, Sirius let out a shaky sigh before getting up and heading to one of the bathrooms. Sirius led the way as Remus followed making sure he got there okay, the bathroom wasn't as bad as the men expected, sure there were a few spider webs floating around and dead bluebottles on the windowsill but it was useable.

“You wouldn't have brought any towles and clean clothes would you moons?”

“Don't worry my case is downstairs I'll go grab them, and i apologise in advance I burned a lot of your stuff after… well yeah”

Sirius cracked a smile as he sat on the toilet seat he didn't dare lift the lid in fear of what he would find, remus brushed past him towards the shower/bath combo he looked into the tub grimacing at the orange rust stains along the porcelain.

“I dont know whats dirtier, you or the bathtub” Remus turned the hot tap a few times wondering where the water was, the house let out a handful of groans and brown water erupted from the shower head drenching remus in the foul liquid, Remus yelped gagging at the smell while sirius howled with uncontainable laughter.

“It's not funny Sirius” Remus whined flicking the water at him, “Ugh it smells worse than that time you swam in the lake as padfoot, i think something has died in the water tank or something”

“Remus the house doesn't have a water tank, besides it runs clear after 2 minuets it always has, it's probably the pipes they were always like this, just be glad it wasn't the black sludge again…” Sirius sighed nonchalantly as he began peeling off his Azkaban uniform stepping into the tub. Remus was going to ask but thought it best to head downstairs for his case,

“ right.. Well I'll go grab my bags. I have some shampoo and conditioner you can use..” Remus said quietly his voice but a whisper, Remus left the bathroom closing the door behind him. He left sirius to clean himself up and headed downstairs for his bags, he passed the doorway where he saw the figure stopping to look at the brass nameplate on the door ‘R.A.B’, Remus pushed the open door wider peering into the room

“Master Regulus is sleeping” kreacher sneered behind Remus who jumped back in fear

“Kreacher, Regulus is dead” Remus looked at the house elf who ignored him in reply closing the door with a click of his fingers and returning to his chores.

Remus shuddered again he sensed he was being watched by someone but could tell who, he didn't particularly want to walk pass walburger again so he drew his wand waving it “Accio bags” with the spell muttered his suitcases shot up the staircase landing in front of him, he picked them up and walked back to sirius room. Remus pushed the door open with his back to the room. At that moment it felt as though someone was watching him, he looked up and around the room no one was in there but it felt as though a mother was weeping in the room.

“Hello?”

There was no reply, Remus was relieved but he couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching him as he plopped his bags on the bed grabbing his wash bag and towels from inside and heading back to the bathroom.

“Ugh i can’t believe we did that in there Remus it's disgusting” sirius whined flopping into a seat at the grand oak table in the kitchen

“Shut up, you were practically begging me and it was no picnic for me anyway, head up” remus moved behind Sirius beginning to brush his hair, sirius let out a low moan, oh how he missed it when Remus brushed his hair, he wasn't quite happy at the length after Remus battled with the matted curls he decided the best thing to do was cut it off and start a new.

“Calm down dog boy, your mother is only in the stairwell” Remus jokes

“Don't remind me… the moment we figure out how to remove that blasted thing the better” Sirius sighed once more.

With the morning nearly over and breakfast going down well the two men began work on cleaning the house, Sirius suggested his room and the bathroom first and Remus agreed they needed somewhere to sleep and the place that keeps you clean should be clean. It took a while but they finally got into the rhythm of things with a mix of muggle cleaning products that Remus swore by and magic by 4:30 sirius bedroom was clean and dust free and the bathroom looked brand new. Remus left the bathroom dragging out the mop and bucket his gaze fixated on the floor. He noticed a trail of muddy footprints leading to 3rd floor, without hesitation Remus decided to follow the footprints, they looked practically fresh then he noticed puddles of water along the stairs.

“Moony?” Sirius called from his bedroom but there was no reply.

Remus continued up the stairs it felt as though someone was leading him up there, he found himself on the 3rd floor landing it was a lot brighter thanks to the larger windows on either side of the landing Remus walked over to his right continuing to follow the footprints he looked outside the large window that overlooked a lake.

“Rem?” sirius called walking up the stairs, he didn't like going up to the third floor he remembered when he was little he ran up there away from his mother and heard crying coming from the grand bedroom he never truly believed what he saw in that room but he never went into it again.

“Sirius look… i never knew this lake was here it's beautiful ” Remus waved over to sirius his attention fixated on the lake outside

“Yeah its starfell lake, it smells horrific though” sirius replied

“But how is it here in london?”

“Oh well the house is kind of like frankenstein's monster”

“How so?”

“You see how its so narrow and yet the rooms are huge, well a few hundred years ago the Black family didn't want to leave the grimmauld estate to rot so they merged it with the town house in london that's why you can see parts of the estate and london through the windows. Its old magic. I remember my uncle Alphrad said the house was possessed like it was living or something...” He explained, Remus looked at him his face going slack as if he saw someone standing behind Sirius

“What?” sirius smiled, looking behind him he wasn't a big fan of the upper floors to the house weird things happen up there

“Oh nothing..” remus lied.

“If you say so, I'm going to make a start in the kitchen you coming?” remus Nodded the thought of following the muddy footprints tucked away in the back of mind that was an adventure for a different day they needed to clean the house.

Once more the kitchen looked liveable remus managed to fix the ice box and Kreacher made an effort to help, a constant narration of curses flowed from the stairwell much to the wizards dismay.

“Shes getting rather creative with those insults” Remus mused leaning against the kitchen counter stirring his hot chocolate, Sirius didn't reply but a ghostly smile played on his face

“What time is it?” was all he asked

“Oh its 7:56 why?”

“We have to go to sleep now…” sirius said, no emotion in his voice it sounded as if he was possessed

“Sirius? What are you on about … your not in azkaban anymore you can stay up later-” remus didn't get chance to finish as Sirius grabbed his arm, the house began to moan as a cold wind rushed through the house a grandfather clock began its chimes

“We have to go upstairs where it's safe… he's going to come again and again…. He won't leave until it's broken…” Sirius mumbled

“Sirius you're not making any sense- Ah- stop your hurting me” Remus panicked as he was being pulled up the stairs, he managed to break free at the foot of the staircase when he saw a man in the cDrawing room dressed in elegant clothing 18th century if Remus recalled correctly but the scariest thing was his face, it looked as if he was made of porcelain. The Gentlemans right eye was missing from what Remus could see but he didn't wish to linger as the clock chimes its 5 chime Remus grabbed Sirius and ran up the stairs and into his room. The two men listened to the eighth and final chime of the clock…

“Sirius What's happening?”

“I don't know.. When did we go to my room?”

“You don't remember what you said you were talking in riddles about a man and a curse or some shit”

“Sorry i don't know, it's just.. We never stay up past eight that's all, i told you the house is possessed”

Remus looked at the man in front of him watching as he wrecked his brain for answers, he contemplated telling Sirius about the man in the drawing room but resisted.

“We can talk about his tomorrow lets just go to sleep” sirius didn't object he looked over to the window expecting to see the faceless woman again but nothing, he sighed with relief.

⚱⚱⚱⚱⚱⚱

Enjoyed the story ?? Check out the rest below!! you can also check it out on my wattpad or AO3 first !! please leave a comment or like your feedback is greatly aprecated !! please dont hesitate to send me questions about the story :) love JJx

<< Chapter 1 - Masterlist - Chapter 3 >>

#wolfstar #sirius x remus #wolfstar fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #fanfic #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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take-a-bug · 5 years

Text

It had taken a month to get used to them speaking. A whole mass of small bugs speaking as one into your mind was a freaky thing. The “God Seekers”, as they called themselves, sure did like to talk a lot. The questions and praise where a new constant. It made sense when the human world was larger than life and brand new to them but the way they clung to you was uncomfortable.

They were abandoned by their last god apparently, that’s why they cling so tight. Not helping was that going to anywhere out of the house made you out of reach for their attunement so anytime you left they got separation anxiety.

It was both better and worse when you began letting them live around the house as they pleased. They even would sit perched on your shoulders. They were happier and with some adjusting spoke less but that only meant simple things like going to the store, as you were trying to today, were made so much more complicated.

“Guys, come on. I’m going to be gone for at most a hour. You don’t need to make this such a big deal!” You tried to gently grab them to set each on on the counter but they only would crawl up your jacket sleeves.

“Why can’t thou take us with thou? time without thou feels terrible, please! hold, but for a few and our minds shall keep connected, no matter the distance.” The few on the counter shifted together as they all spoke. You carefully tried to coerce the small lump in your sleeve out without crushing the poor thing.

“Because,” you spoke with teeth gritted in both annoyance and concentration “if one of you come all it takes is one small move or mistake and you could fall and get squished-”

“Yet that’s the like 'i thy house and yet none of us hast been hurt. Thou take care of all of us godseekers and we hast faith thou wouldn’t let such a thing befall us.”

The final bronzish gold bug finally plopped onto the counter. You took quick step back before anymore could latch on again before speaking. “It’s different out there. If one of you fell I may not be able to notice. Besides, one human walking around in a house is very different from who knows how many walking around a supermarket. No please, I’m going to the store and I’ll be back in an hour.”

You could hear the collective try to argue again but shut them out. You had no actual ability to shut them out but you had become very good at ignoring them. A small walk out and into your car later and you were off. Each time you left you could feel their disconnect, almost like the small static noise as you pulled headphones from their jack. It wasn’t noticeable unless paying attention but as you listened for that feeling it never happened.

As the store opened that disconnect still hadn’t happened; maybe you missed it?

You silently milled around the store, going down your list.

Milk

Bread

Paper towels

Oatmeal

Coffee

Cheese

What was the next one?

As you reached in your list a familiar cold shell met your fingertips. Immediately you wrapped your fingers around it to confirm it was actually them.

“What are you doing here?” The phrase was quietly hissed through clenched teeth at the small bug. They now starred up at you, eyes wide and almost… scared?

“Please mine god, don’t be mad with us. It’s only one whom came. The rest are at thy home. We just wished to be with thou. I’ll remain 'i thy pocket and keep still so thou won’t realize i’m hither.”

“It’s a little late for me to not realize you’re here hun. For all the worshiping and promises you all make none of you actually do as I say! Why can’t any of you be obedient for five seconds and just listen to me? I’m asking for what’s best for you when you know nothing of what’s around you.” You began to look around, knowing that talking to them in the middle of a crowded store wouldn’t be a good idea. Putting them back to your pocket and pulling out your phone so you wouldn’t look insane talking to yourself.

“Please return to thy task. I won't bother thou anymore.”

You wanted to argue but what would you say? You put the phone away and continued on with your list. It wasn’t in any type of order so you ran all over finding the random things you needed.

You found yourself near where they sold fresh pastries, the smell of sugar and cake filling the air when they spoke again.

“O god, what is that sweet smell? it smells amazing, we truly must know.”

“I thought you weren’t going to bother me again.” Your voice was filled with venom as you glared at your pocket. Coming to a full stop near the bagels you had been going for.

“Yet the air is so sweet hither. Not 'i the way that rotting kingdom was either; hither is smells forsooth delightful and warm!”

“It’s because sweet breads are made here okay. Now be quiet till we get home.” You rushed through the store now, skipping all the non essentials.

They weren’t being that much of a bother now but their constant presence was driving you mad. You found you would taken any excuse to leave the house when before you would do the opposite. Them following you against your wishes almost felt like a betrayal, no matter how small as them coming with you to the store was.

While you stood in line a small child kept reaching out of their cart. A small boy, no older than three with sticky finger almost every child that age had. The mother kept bouncing between smacking their small hands away from the knick knacks to put things onto the conveyor belt. As you watched this happen you could almost see the child slowly winding up to scream in anger, not understanding why they couldn’t play with so many toys before them.

Their crying ripped through the air in a matter of seconds, a shrill shriek that was louder than words.

“What is that racket? Is there a way thou compose it stop. It’s horrible please compose it stop.” The godseekers pleading didn’t help the overload of noise. When you didn’t respond to them they only kept asking. There was no way to speak back without attracting attention.

“Cut it out right now Brian!” The mother shrieked at her child, only causing him to scream louder. They seekers began murmuring to themselves, essentially speaking out loud into your head, complaining about the woman and trying to figure out what was happening when no one could see. They didn’t understand why you weren’t responding anymore and they all began to call out and plead for you to do something.

It was to much. Too loud to fast. A migraine began to tear its way across your brain as you began to shake. Clenching your knuckles to the cart so hard your knuckles turned white and grinding your teeth together.

They worked fast, bagging her things when she had fully unloaded her cart. She payed quickly, just swiping some type of card and dashing off with her child.

“Are you okay?” The cashier stared at you as you gripled the handlebar.

“Please… please just be quiet.” You couldn’t tell if you were speaking to the cashier or the Godseekers but it didn’t matter as both parties silenced. Unloading your cart was quick and paying was to. The ride home and unloading of the car felt slow with how tired you now were.

“O god! thou hast-”

“Quiet! Just be quiet for once. Just listen to what I tell you please… I can’t handle this right now just leave me alone…” you turned the lights off and flopped onto the couch

“Mine god, we’re sorry we-”

“It’s just don’t do it again and please just be quiet. My head hurts right now and I need rest.”

They nodded and you felt the small bug leave your pocket and return to the others.

A sigh left your lips as sleep tugged at your consciousness.

God… Why were you so tired?

#hollow knight #bug tank au #godseeker #see if you can spot the referance

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partyinthemysterymachine · 5 years

Text

Stop Stopping

Ch. 5/?

They ran. Harry was so close on James’s heels that he was nearly colliding on every step. The rusty door banged on the wall when it was thrown open, and the two of them raced down the narrow alley. It took seconds to land on Katz St., the wail of the radio deafening in the abandoned street. They stood in the middle of the road, frantically looking both ways, until James grabbed Harry’s sleeve and yanked him to the right. Harry turned on a dime and took off after him, only to stop again in the intersection at the sound of a pitched, gurgling woman.

From the fog emerged a staggering, loose-limbed creature that was closer than either of them had anticipated. It shuffled on buckled legs, its ropey arms swinging carelessly in the momentum. The head drooped on its neck, masking its face from everything but the asphalt, and they ought to be grateful for it. The entirety of this abomination was ravaged in sickening swirls of exposed muscle, black rot eating away at its flesh, and raw, peeling skin. Like most of the hell creatures in Silent Hill, it was an impossibility. The thing moved as though it was treading through tar, but these two were wise to the fact that that shouldn’t be undermined.

The stench of it reached them as soon as they saw it, triggering bile washing up Harry’s throat, and gritted disgust on James’s face. It smelled of charred meat forgotten in an industrial oven fueled by sulfur and was heavy with the unmistakable odor of wet, moldy clothes. Every breath it took sounded labored and painful, and vaguely feminine. In its wake were slicks of thick blood, and if they dared to be any more observant, flung drops of blood from its stiff fingertips as the arms swayed.

This was Harry’s welcome party. It was a party of one and that was more than enough. The sight of it left him frozen in place for a multitude of hours that were condensed into several threatening seconds. When struck with terror, one forgets how long seconds truly are. He was stuck in it. The radio was just background noise to the head spinning fear that gripped him.

He nearly ate pavement when James once again seized his arm and pulled him out of the moment and down the street. Harry went after him in a daze, his brain and legs acting on autopilot to keep up with the misplaced civilian he was now reliant on. They raced down Katz, the squeal of the radio still strong in warning, but for the third time in their escape, it was James’s turn to brake hard in the road. Harry crashed nto him, the both of them catching themselves before a stumble.

“What’re you doing?!” Harry hissed to the back of James’s head. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t just stop like that—“

“What the hell is that?”

Harry looked over his green shoulder. The sigil was still planted right in the road. James stared at it, disquieted. It was foreign to him, and told him it was something he was going to be much more than just an acquaintance to it. It was mocking him. Taunting him. James felt threatened, and with good reason, and all he wanted to do was run away from it, and the way it itched in his brain.

Harry was anxious behind him. “C’mon, James, keep moving,” he urged, starting to sidestep him to blindly lead the way. James came to his senses and cut him off, dashing into the apartment building. Harry had to ignore the dread that went along with entering the lobby, and they ran up the stairs skipping a step at a time.

The radio was unrelenting, as was the pitch black darkness of the hall stretching before them. Their flashlights illuminated the disgusting walls as they hurried to the stairs to ascend to temporary safety. The dark made it look like the hall was a mile long. It wasn’t; it was easy to cover the distance in under thirty seconds if they ran. They were focused; they were propelled by their survival instinct.

Through the noise of static, Harry heard crying. The crying of a girl was hollow and trapped behind one of the doors as he passed it (the hall was so short! it didn’t need to seem to long! he was so close to the stairs!) and then came the voice that speared his heart, and body, in place.

“Daddy!”

Harry sucked a hard breath and looked at the crusted doorknob. Guilt hit him like a truck. The little girl was sobbing on the other side of the door, breaking his heart and kicking his protective fatherly instinct into foolish gear. She sounded so scared. She sounded like she was abandoned. Another cry took his chest in a crushing twist, and knowing that they had to hurry, knowing they were in danger, knowing the town was baiting him, forcing him to stop and make himself vulnerable, but he couldn’t live with the possibility that he’d leave Cheryl to suffer alone.

“Daddy!” she cried pitifully. “Daddy, please! Please help me..”

“Cheryl, baby,” he whispered in ache, weakly reaching for the knob. “It’s okay, honey, I’m gonna get you out.”

Like hell he was. James’s strength was angry when Harry was ripped away from the apartment and dragged down the hall. He was all but thrown through the stairwell door and shoved up the steps to the second floor, where James manhandled him one more time when Room 212 yielded, and he staggered to the middle of the living room as the door slammed shut.

Harry was dazed. The radio had silenced. His head swam in murky sludge as it tried to catch up with everything that had happened since they left the cafe. Too much information was squeezed into a span of minutes just shy of ten, perhaps, but neither of them would ever know. His eyes rooted to the crusted floor, the flashlight’s white ray bobbing as his breath heaved. Harry could barely process anything, much less James’s furious step towards him.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” James bristled. “What was that? You can’t stop in the middle of the hall like that! Didn’t you hear the radio? Don’t you remember what that means?”

Harry couldn’t respond in his struggle to process. James scoffed over his shoulder and fidgeted. The questions were mostly rhetorical anyway. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, and took a walk to the kitchen to cool off.

Harry was beginning to pull himself together when they both looked up in cold horror. There were footsteps running beyond the apartment. Light ones, like a child’s. They passed their hideout, stopped, and then returned. The tread sounded heavier now, like they’d grown to an adult’s weight, and came to a stop outside the door.

The tension was thick. Both men were waiting, staring at door with bated breath. There was hardly a full minute of rest. The town had gleefully initiated the hunt, and had decided to begin with a marathon. They were not just kept on their toes; they were kept on the tips of the hair that stood on end.

Then the knob rattled. Like lightning, James hurled himself at the door and slammed it shut the moment that it tried to open. He braced his weight on it, his eyes wide as the knob rattled again and again, and a force attempted to counter his strength.

It gave up. James didn’t. He leaned everything he had into keeping that door shut, and then looked pleadingly to the disoriented father in the middle of the room. “Harry,” he whispered, “please. Help me keep it shut.”

Harry was at a loss. His eyes roved blankly to James. There was desperation in the air, and he couldn’t do anything about it. His body felt numb; it didn’t even feel like his. A knock rapped on the door, and a girl’s muffled voice begged for her father.

“Daddy, please help me. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what’s going on. Dad.. please..”

The voice was familiar, and too unnatural to be trusted. It rose and fell in pitch from child to teenager in each sentence. James stared anxiously at Harry, watching his every move - more like the lack thereof. But Harry was trapped in place by his own deadened mentality.

The girl’s weeping went ignored. Soon it petered off, and the footsteps receded down the stretch of the hall. Only when they were gone did James feel for a lock on the door, and to some miracle there was, and the deadbolt slid into place.

Neither of them noticed that the radio’s static was hushed but humming that entire time. James peeled his body tiredly from the door and looked out at the man who wasn’t in himself. He looked so despondent.. lost. James’s anger had washed away, and now he appeared awkwardly sympathetic.

“That was Heather, wasn’t it?”

Harry nodded slowly. “Yeah. And Cheryl.”

James’s head bobbed their brief uncomfortable silence. “Yeah. But that wasn’t her.”

His lousy attempt at comfort actually brought Harry back into the present. He stared at him like he’d told him the earth was flat and he had a globe to prove it; he was astounded at how empty James’s head was.

That dealer was out on a really, really long smoke break.

“You don’t say.”

The snap of the icy sarcasm caused James to look away. Harry, heavy with the stress and confusion of everything, turned his back. There was a stained green chair that faced a broken TV, and he trudged over and sank into it.

He needed a few minutes to sort himself out. He didn’t want to hear or see James, or the rest of this decrepit space, or acknowledge the blood that was caked to the unit in front of him. He didn’t even want to think. He could barely feel. Harry needed to breathe and come down from the displacement of his brain from his body. He just needed a few minutes to himself.

James silently took in the scene. He’d seen this before. Harry was no dead body with a gaping hole in the back of its head and remaining features concealed under blood, like the other man was. He recalled feeling like it was an omen then. Now he felt mocked. Harry sitting in the chair like that was a cruel joke.

He had to wonder if that decision was Harry’s alone, or if the town had something to do with it.

Of course, he knew the answer. James quietly left the living room. He went into the bedroom and sat on the edge a mattress that was yellow and sagged. Harry needed alone time to gather himself, that was made abundantly clear. He understood that. There were many times in his life where James could relate. In that, though, James felt the pang of rejection.

He’d upset Harry. He had been hotheaded in that whole stressful escape and battle for sanity, and he knew that was a flaw he had to live with. How selfish of him to feel rejection at a time like this, from a person he barely knew, whose prior visit to Silent Hill had left him unprepared for the rest of his life. James was so full of self-pitying that he went to wallow in it alone in the aftermath of someone else’s trauma. He was pathetic, insensitive, and helpless to know how else to be.

He didn’t think with words. He thought with feelings, and though there was a numbing effect to his foul pool of negativity, he was resigned to sit in it until Harry was ready to join him.

So James waited. He was accustomed to it. He was good at it. He hated it. It left him alone with himself, and kept him lonely. As his mind took the merry-go-round of problems and emotions that played over and over ad nauseam, he waited. And waited. And sighed.

There was no point in noticing how his hands were getting cold, and droplets of water gathered at his fingertips, and plummeted at will to the dark floor.

pt 1//pt 2//pt 3//pt 4//pt 6// series on ao3

#ches writes #ches writes stuff #silent hill #silent hill 2 #harry mason #james sunderland #beep boop beep boop #[silent hill pickup noise]

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staliasjeronica · 5 years

Text

Unspoken Truths - Jeronica AU Chapter Twenty

Title: Unspoken Truths

Ship: Jeronica

Warnings: Gun violence, almost-shooting, Hiram Lodge related

Chapter Twenty

The girls were anxious-although they had sent the files to Cheryl, and they had a flash drive full of incriminating files, their sneaky descent back to the ground floor, and out of the building had been smooth. Too smooth.

The truck was still there, thankfully, but it wasn't running. Toni grabbed a hold of Veronica's arm, taking a step back. "Where are the boys?"

Veronica's heart thumped loudly, so loud she took the fearful look Toni gave her as her hearing her heartbeat. "If my father hurts them, I-"

"Don't worry, mija," Hiram Lodge stepped out from the shadows the trees provided, holding both Sweet Pea and Fangs by the backs of their jackets. Their mouths were taped shut, and their ankles and wrists were bound with rope. "these lowlives are okay... for now. I can have the cops called onto them for trespassing, and that'll be the last you hear from them."

Veronica placed herself between Toni and her father, partly as a way to show her father she wasn't backing down, and partly because she could secretly pass the flash drive to Toni. "Really? Well, sure, you could do that, but I don't think the police would find it normal for them to be bound and gagged, don't you? Let them go, daddy, this is between us."

"Give me the flash drive, Veronica," Hiram demanded, holding his arm out. She crossed her arms pointedly, and he knew he was going to have to push her to her limit-way past it, actually, as he retracted his hand and pulled out a gun, then placed it to Fangs' head. "I'm sure the kid who survived a gunshot won't survive this one."

Fangs' eyes widened as they filled with frightful tears. "Veronica, don't. My life for the Serpents."

"Shut up," Hiram snarled, pushing the end of the gun into Fangs' head. "Ronnie, don't listen to him. Give me the flash drive, and your little boyfriends won't end up with bullets in their heads."

Veronica gulped down the bile that rose in her throat. She snarled, "you're a monster, daddy. You need to be stopped... but not at the lives of a sweet boy who doesn't deserve the shit he has to go through." She dropped to her knees, almost as if it were a way to show her father that she was giving in to him. "Toni, give me the flash drive."

"He's going to shoot him anyways," Toni defiantly took a step back, almost as if she were daring Veronica's father to pull the trigger-but she would never wish that upon Fangs. "All we are to him are poor South Side teenagers. One less on the streets wouldn't matter to your father. Once we hand him the flash drive, he's going to kill them, anyways."

"But we don't know that for sure-"

"Don't give him the flash drive, it's all we have to take him down," Fangs cried, clearly bluffing, although Veronica applauded him for doing so when his life was quite literally hanging on the pull of a finger.

"Just give me the damn drive, Veronica!" Hiram snarled. "Do it now, or I will blow his brains out."

Veronica sniffled, turning around to Toni. "If you care for Fangs, you'll give me the flash drive right now."

Toni looked away, tears cascading down her cheeks. "We're so close to being free, Veronica. We'll never get another chance like this..."

"And Fangs survived being framed for Midge's murder, a gunshot to the stomach, and the shitty lifestyle of the South Side, and he's going to go out because of my dastardly father?" Veronica whispered, shaking her head in refusal. "No. I won't let that happen. I won't let him take away somebody else's life."

Toni let in a shaky breath and handed Veronica the flash drive. She shakily took it, and faced her father with a locked jaw. "I hate you."

Hiram smiled in victory, then sighed as he laughed lightly. "Pinkie's right. Why would I let these teenagers go back to living like little rats?" The cock of the gun brought out a fearful gasp from Toni and Veronica's lips, and hearing the gunshot go off earned a sob from them as well. However, instead of a body falling to the floor, it was the clattering fo a gun.

The girls turned around and found Hermione with a gun pointed towards her husband, a scowl on her features. She had shot him in the leg, which he clutched painfully. He quickly grabbed a hold of the grip, but Jughead walked into the scene with a small laugh, crushing his fingers under his boots. "Must suck to be betrayed by your own family. Us Jones', the Serpents... we would never."

"Well, clearly Toni would, but that's not my business, is it?" Betty humphed, crossing her arms as the small group eyed Toni.

"He wouldn't shoot Fangs until he got the flash drive. If we made him believe this was truly all we had, keeping Fangs alive is all that would get him what he wanted," Toni rolled her eyes at them all, "I love Fangs, why would I want him dead over a flash drive that has the same files as what Cheryl has?"

"Your rule is over, Hiram," Hermione bent down with a sinister smirk playing on her lips. She grabbed a fist full of his hair and made him look at her, "you'll rot in jail, I'll make sure of it. And you're never going to touch Veronica and I, or any of the Serpents, ever again." Throwing his head back down, she stood back up. "I called the police after I helped Betty and Jughead go, so they should be here in a minute."

Veronica mimicked her mother and bent down to face her father. He looked up, his face paling as the pain overtook his senses. "The Lodge name will no longer be associated with your criminal activities. Mom and I are going to move on, and fix the mold you created in Riverdale. Oh, and a compensation to Fangs' family is going to be paid for the traumatic shit you put him through."

The police sirens in the distance slowly grew louder as they echoed around the town.

Jughead wrapped his arms around Veronica's waist with a cocky smile, grinning wildly at her. "And now we can finally go back to our lives. We can figure out what we're going to be, we can rebuild the Serpents into what they should be with Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs... and we can just be teenagers."

Veronica placed a tiny kiss on his lips. "I can't wait to get my life back on track... but maybe first we should, you know, help Fangs and Sweet Pea out of the tape."

"Shit, right," Jughead sucked in his lips as he whipped out his pocket knife and ignored their playful glares as he cut them out of the tape that bound them. "Sorry, guys."

"You're lucky that we're just happy to be alive," Fangs murmured while him and Sweet Pea embraced, and he dug his head into his chest. "I love you, Pea."

"I love you, too, Fogarty. Try not to die, okay?" Sweet Pea chuckled lightly, "if somebody pulls a gun on you again, I'm going to do something you'll hate."

"Well, it's not my fault people hate me enough to pull guns on me," Fangs huffed. "But please don't get your stupid ass arrested, okay? Veronica would kill me."

Veronica took a couple of steps forward to ruffle their hair with a light smile, "oh, shut up, boys... I'm glad you're okay."

"You too," Sweet Pea nodded, then he wiggled his eyebrows towards Jughead. "Now go figure out your relationship with Jughead."

"Speaking of, Betty!" Veronica turned so quickly, the blonde jumped in fright. "I wanted to thank you for creating a distraction. If you hadn't had stepped in at that moment, we would have been caught."

Betty bit down on her bottom lip and glanced down at the floor, "well, you said I needed to find a way to insert myself into the plan like I always do. Why not be reckless with Jughead one last time before I take a breath and ask my mom to place me in therapy?"

"Oh, my God, really?" Veronica cooed, "that's so great, Betty! I'm glad you're finally taking steps to get better."

And, surprisingly, Veronica wrapped her arms around Betty's waist, "whoa, you're hugging me. This sure brings me back to when you first came to Riverdale and we were best friends. I... miss that."

Veronica laughed lightly, "yeah, me too. I hate constantly fighting you... so what do you say we go out for something to eat later and catch up a bit?"

"I thought we were going to-"

"Jughead, that can wait until tomorrow," Veronica interrupted with a stern look as she stepped away from her hug with Betty. "But, Jughead, I'm done pretending I don't have feelings for you, okay? I want to try us. But I also want to make sure I'm not going to be poisoned or something."

Betty scoffed, "as if I'd poison you over Jughead."

Veronica eyed the cops as they pulled into the parking lot, then she glanced at Betty with a gentle smile. "Good, because chicks before dicks."

"Hey, I'm not a dick!"

"Shh, the cops are here. Time for the final end of the plan," Veronica snickered as Jughead gaped at her in the corner of her eye. "To watch my father go to jail, for good, and I can relax for what might be the first time in my life.”

And that is the end of Unspoken Truths! I know it ended horribly, but I might add on another little chapter of something cute for later in life, or something. I don't know, but I kind of wanted to leave it up for interpretation for you. Thank you so much for reading this, and here's to our hope that Jeronica will become canon!

#Riverdale #Unspoken Truths #Jughead Jones #Veronica Lodge #Jeronica #Vughead #Jeronica Fic #Vughead Fic

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bluistyping-blog · 6 years

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My Failed OC Haunted Me

This is based on @wordsnstuff’s recent prompt, so go check it out!

I seldom ever complete a work.

I come up with this amazing concept in the shower and before long, I’m creating a lengthy outline with Pinterest boards depicting my characters. When it’s time to start drafting, however, writing starts to feel like a weight and I just don’t pull through.

The farthest I’ve ever gotten was last summer. I’d been planning a science fiction mystery novella for months. As I sat down to write, the words poured through me as I landscaped the town and birthed each and every character. I wanted to finish it, truly I did, but by the sixth chapter, I’d left the Google Docs file to rot with my other unfinished projects.

I know it sounds terrible, but the story didn’t cross my mind for weeks. By then, I’d filled my time with all-nighters of Orange Is the New Black and mind-numbing sessions of the Sims 4. My summer was progressing as it usually did-- sleep, eat, internet, repeat. Until one night.

I was blow drying my hair and eating stale pizza when I heard a thump above me. I ignored it at first. After all, I did live in an apartment. But then I remembered I was on the top floor. My eyes slowly drifted to the ceiling.

Thud!

I squealed in surprise, jumping up and grabbing the plunger for protection. My puppy began growling in the distance. Fear ran through my body as I remembered reading an article about how animals can sense things that we can’t.

“If anyone is in this house, show yourself!” I yelled in an attempt to sound brave. My knees were clacking together as my legs shook with anxiety.

Bam!

It came from inside the apartment this time. I tip toed from the bathroom and into the hallway. My terracotta planter gifted to me by my girlfriend lay shattered in the middle of the floor.

“...Who goes there?” I whispered, hot tears stinging my eyes.

Clink!

It sounded like it came from... right behind me.

I turned around slowly, muttering the only prayer I could recall from going to bible camp as a kid. When I stopped, I came face to face with the blade of a pocketknife. When my eyes traveled up to the holder’s face, my heart dropped.

She was 5′10 and around 130 pounds. How did I know that?

Because I’d created her.

There she stood-- the OC from my latest unfinished novel.

She wore a thick leather jacket covered in pins and buttons and cut off Bermuda shorts that exposed her bruised knees. Her ginger hair hung in tangles down to her abdomen. There was a faded scar across the bridge of her nose and a smirk resting on her face.

“Boo,” she whispered, withdrawing the knife from my face.

I stumbled backwards.

“Now, now, don’t be scared,” she chuckled. “Why would you have to be scared of little old me?” As she said this, her hair turned to fire. Her face glowed in a fit of rage.

“P-Please, Kai. Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down?! You abandoned me! How could you do that?” she cried loudly, her hair igniting even more.

“Wait! Just hear me out!” I pleaded.

Her hair slowly began to put itself out. She motioned for me to speak.

“Kai.. I didn’t want to leave you, okay? I just can’t commit to writing right now. It’s like my brain won’t let me. I’m just not motivated. I promise I wouldn’t just stop writing you out of malice. I got attached to you as well, but I can’t force myself to put you in these situations that don’t interest me nor suit your character. Please understand that.”

By then, her hair had returned to normal. Her posture slumped as she knelt down to be eye level with me.

“You don’t know how scary it was for me to just be stuck. When you stop writing, my world stops developing. It isn’t like Toy Story where the toys just continue on when Andy’s away. I’m on pause when you click away, so when you click away for good...”

“You’re just on pause for good.” I finished.

She nodded, smiling sadly.

“So, I came out here to see if I could convince you to come back, but I see you don’t have any intentions of returning soon.”

I sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. We can make this work,” she said, pacing.

“How?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? Who’s to say I can’t just stay here with you? Out here things move in real time. I won’t be stuck anymore!” she laughed with joy.

It sounded like a good idea in theory, so I allowed it.

For the next few weeks, we lived like queens. We stayed up all night, every night watching bad horror movies and doing our makeup together. I taught her about social media and even told her a bit more about her world from my old notes. It was like a constant sleepover and seeing how lonely I’d been for most of the summer, Kai was great company. For awhile at least.

“You sure look pretty,” Kai said, watching me tie my choker in the mirror. “Where ya going?”

“Oh! Lisa and I are going on a date. We haven’t gone out in so long, so I’m really excited,” I smiled. “So, how about- Oh my God!”

Kai’s hair was in flames like the night she’d first appeared. She was throwing things around the room in a fit of rage and burning them on contact.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I yelled.

“How could you leave me again?! I know we come from two different worlds, but I know what the word ‘promise’ means. You promised you didn’t mean to leave me last time, but what’s happening right now? You’re making a conscious effort to abandon me. Well, I won’t allow it. Never again.”

All the objects in the room slowly rose in the air.

“Shit.” I ran past her, dodging the items that were flying past my head.

“You can’t get away from me!” she screamed, her voice warping to a lower pitch.

“Why did I give you so many powers?!” I cried, running into another room. “Wait... That’s it.”

I had created every ability that Kai had which was why it was able to manifest in the real world, but if I simply took them away, she’d be powerless. I whipped out my phone and opened the Docs app, cursing myself for not bringing my laptop with me. It was difficult and laggy to try and scroll through thousands of words to find the exposition for her character.

The doorknob jiggled furiously.

“Open this door, you mediocre author!” she taunted. It hit a nerve.

I scrolled even quicker, desperate to find her telepathy and hellfire traits.

“Come on! Come on, goddammit!” I cried.

The door flung open. Kai’s hair was now so tall it was burning the ceiling.

“Peekaboo,” she said in an even more distorted voice. She threw the door at me.

I kept scrolling when I accidentally double-tapped the screen. The option to select all text appeared. I gulped. I didn’t want to get rid of my entire story; I just wanted to weaken Kai so I wouldn’t die. But I knew what I had to do.

“Hey, Kai,” I said shakily.

She looked at me with her signature smirk on her lips.

“When I was a kid, my mom once said that she brought me into this world so she could take me out.”

“So?” she scoffed.

“So, I’m taking you out.” I hit ‘select all’ and ‘cut’.

The apartment started to quake.

“What’s going on?” Kai’s voice shifted back to normal.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. Tears ran down my face.

Her arms and legs started to disintergrate.

“No... Blu, wait!”

“Goodbye, Kai.”

A bright light flashed through the room, a strong wind blowing in harmony.

As it passed, I slowly opened my eyes. A single blade of a pocket knife lay on the floor.

#wordsnstuff #writblr #writers #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writer

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foreverdrivinginpuddles123 · 6 years

Text

Best friends with the god of mischief (chapter 8)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 8

AUTHOR: foreverdrivinginpuddles123 / lokistories123 ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being friends with Loki. After a while you start having feelings for him, but you don’t tell him. One day Asgard’s enemies try to go after you and Loki takes you to Asgard. Loki and Thor defeat the enemies, but you and Loki decide it is better for you to stay in Asgard for a while. One day Loki comes back from a mission. He tells you he found out that he’s a frost giant and that he is most likely adopted. Loki can’t cope with this and he gets really angry. Whilst you try to calm him, he quickly yells that he’s in love with you. RATING: Teen NOTES/WARNINGS: I had a hard time writing this chapter. I just didn’t know how to get from A to B. I guess I finally had my first writers block. I hope it’s still okay. If you have any recommendations, please let me know. Next chapter will be NSFW, but I’m still figuring out how to write it in a good (not fifty shades of grey) way.

Word count: 2646

Chapter 8

When I woke up the sun was shining in the room. I could hear Loki breathing in my ear and I could sense he had snuggled up from behind me. I was wearing clothes and I could feel he is wearing clothes as well. He must’ve done it with his magic I thought to myself.

“Hmmm, you’re awake.” Loki growled in my ear. He wasn’t lying about the whole animalistic part, but I liked it.

“And so are you.” I turned around to look at him, but noticed he was in his frost giant form. I gave him a kiss.

“Still not scared?” He looked genuinely surprised at my reaction.

“Nope, and I shall never be.” I smiled. Right when things would be becoming more “tense”, A loud knock on the door had interrupted us.

“Brother, is Y/N with you? I saw the two of you leaving, but when I asked the servants if they had seen her leave your chamber, they didn’t.”

Loki sighed and quickly ran to the door to open it slightly.

“Brother, use your brains. And also use the memory of what I’ve told you the day she arrived.” Loki turned back to face me, cheeks furiously red. Like mine were all the time. He obviously said something out loud that he didn't want me to hear just yet.

“OOHHHH. So you told her you loved her hmm?”

“Yes, Thor, I did.” Loki said in a very proud way. Almost proud of his brother for still having some brains.

“And did you also tell her that other thing?”

“That I am a frost giant, Yes I told her that too. We’ll speak shortly. For now, I need some time with my girlfriend.” He slammed the door and looked proud of saying the G word.

“Girlfriend HM?”

“That’s how you say it on Midgard, yes?”

“Yes. Is that not how you say it here then?”

“No, we say that we are courting someone that they are just our man or woman.” It just sounded fancier, but I was flattered that Loki wanted to call me his girlfriend. From what Thor told Loki and what Loki told Thor, it sounded like Loki liked me before we went to Asgard in a hurry. Which meant he liked me before I knew who he really was, when I just thought he was a guy from Earth. And without even knowing it, he liked me still, even when I now knew who he really REALLY was.

“If you’re thinking any harder, your head might burst.”

“Sorry. I’m starving, what time is it? Did we miss breakfast?!” I was truly starving. I had the most amazing night, but it had taken up a lot of energy, and that means I need more energy. As in food.

“It’s around 10 AM, so we should be fine.” He was right. Just when breakfast would’ve ended, lunch would come around.

“I also send Amelia away to serve Hela. She wasn’t speaking of you very nicely, and I think you can handle yourself just fine without her presence.” Loki was being honest. Amelia was never kind to me, and she only hanged around me, rolling her eyes and making me do everything by myself. I told her to piss off weeks ago.

“Thanks. I really didn’t like her either.” Loki got dressed with one notion of his hand. I was still trying to fully control the spell but tried in none the less. I ended up with wearing half a shirt and one shoe. Loki laughed his ass of.

“Something funny?”

“Yes Y/N, you should really learn your spells in full before performing them in full.”

“Thanks for the tip asshole.” I wasn’t amused by his tone. He made it look like I was being truly stupid, but I just wanted to show him how far I’ve gotten with all this magic.

“Sorry, here let me help you.” With one wave of his hand I was now fully dressed as well.

“Thanks.” Still mad! Still mad! I thought to myself. I couldn’t let him win me over this easily.

“Everything okay?”

“No, I just wanted to show you what I’ve learned so far. Since you left me alone to rot weeks ago. I practiced with Frigga instead, since you wouldn’t speak to me at all. But she hadn’t much time either! I did self-study most of the time to still learn or I’d break. So do not get mad for what I can and can’t do as it is your fault YOU didn’t teach me in the first place!”

“I notice you are still angry with me for leaving you alone for so many weeks. I’m glad you know the reason why, but it looks like I still got some making up to do.”

“Damn right you do!”

Loki explained the whole situation again, hoping that I would understand him better the 2nd time. And I did. But still, I was angry at him. He was laughing at me for being so ignorant, but I truly didn’t know any better, for no-one had even taught me slightly how everything went around here.

“I’m sorry for letting you down. I promise you it won’t happen again!”

“You’re forgiven, for now.”

We entwined arms and walked up to the dining halls.

“So I see someone has been telling the truth, now hasn’t he?” Hela said with a big smile when Loki gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Yes, I told her my thoughts AND I told her what happened on Jötunheim.” So obviously the whole family knew that Loki told me what he was. They also knew that that meant I loved him truly for who he was.

As the weeks passed by Loki quickly claimed back the whole teaching me magic stuff and made sure I got “A treat” if I finished learning a spell completely.

“I can see your Seidr growing more and more powerful Y/N.”

“Sei what?”

“Seidr. It’s the true name of what you call magic. Seidr.”

“Well that makes no more sense at all.” I laughed. Now it was Seidr, but at first Loki just called it magic. Perhaps he just did that for me?

I saw Frigga walking towards me and Loki.

“There you are! I was looking all over for the two of you! The next stop would’ve been Loki’s chambers.” I blushed. Gladly it wasn’t very noticeable for I already had red cheeks myself.

“Hello mother, what is the reason for your search?”

“I am hosting a ball tonight, and I’d hoped you and Y/N would be there as well.”

“Of course, we’ll be there. I’ve seen enough pretty dresses for the occasion, and I love dancing!” I was very excited! I loved wearing beautifull dresses from time to time, and I truly love dancing. I may suck at it, but I am amazed by it none the less.

Loki pinched my hand, his kind gesture of telling me to shut up. But I’d not have it.

“Great, the ball begins at 8PM. Don’t be late. You know how your father gets.”

“Oh, I know.” Was all Loki could say and Frigga quickly left after that.

“You don’t like balls and stuff like that?” I could tell from Loki’s expression, that it wasn’t his first choice.

“No, I sometimes do like them, especially when I can do some mischief. But most of the times they are just reasons to get all the royals and nobles together to discuss certain matters.”

“Where will the ball be hosted?” I was thinking it would be in the throne room for that was the only room big enough for my perception.

“Next to the training grounds is a building that runs out to the royal gardens. That’s where the ball will be hosted.”

Loki and I continued our walk to the library.

Loki continued to do research on everything frostgiant, for he wanted to control his frost giant side now that is has been released. He told me he learned a lot of things, but he wouldn’t tell me everything. I wished he would trust me more. But I knew I had to give him some time.

Around 4PM me and Loki returned to his chambers. The ball would begin around 8PM, so we had like 4 hours to get ready. I knew I didn’t need so long, so I started reading a book.

“We should really go back to my home anytime soon, because most of these books are boring as hell.” Loki chuckled in response. I hope he knows I’m being serious.

“Sure. Whenever you’re ready.” “I’m not. I had contacted my parents a few days ago, but they are worried as hell. If I even take one step into my home, they’ll never let me leave.”

“I know. We’ll figure something out.”

After a minute of silence, a dozen of servants started barging in.

“What the hell is all this?” I asked in my annoyance.

“They are here to get us ready little one.”

“But we’ve got 4 hours left?!” One of the servants took one step forward.

“Milady, we are here to prepare everything for you and the prince and then we’ll be gone.” I accepted the fact that I wasn’t able to do anything. I walked to the closet with some lady servants and we picked a dress. I still wasn’t comfortable with those shoes, but I let them pick a pair anyway. I would just change them the last minute. It took the servants, an hour to prepare everything and the bathtub was filled with water. Thank god they quickly left and Loki and I where the only ones left in the chambers.

“I’m going to take a bath, would you care to join me?” I looked up in terror.

“Y/N, stop being so self-conscious. You’re beautiful. Now come with me.” Loki just grabbed my hand and almost threw me in the bathtub. I was too shy to say anything.

“Lost your tongue?” I nodded my head, while continuing to look down. Loki grabbed my chin to make me look up to him.

“Stop being so negative about yourself Y/N. I can’t speak for other men, but I prefer a woman whom I can hold on to, and not one that breaks with a single breath. And I think that should be enough for you to not be so shy around me if you’re not wearing any clothes.” I gave him half a smile and I laid my head on his shoulder.

“Mhhh. It’s so relaxing. No-one whining and nagging, just utter peace.” I laughed at his comment.

“You’re absolutely right. But a shower is also nice, and I do miss it from time to time.”

“Well… we can’t have everything we want. But the thing I wanted the most, I do have.” Loki kissed me.

“I do like the fact that you can keep the water warm for such a long time. On earth it would’ve been cold by now. SHIT! What time is it?!”

“It’s 7PM.”

“SHIT! We need to get ready!”

I jumped out of the bathtub and. SMACK. “FUCK.” I just fell, naked, on the cold tiled floor.

“Y/N! You really are clumsy, now aren’t you?” Loki picked me up and threw a towel around me. He quickly dried me and sat with me on his bed.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. Are you hurt?”

“Physically? No. Mentally? Yes.” Loki gave me a hug.

“Come we need to get dressed. I’ll help you.”

I truly needed the help for the dress was as beautiful as it was hard to put on. When I finally finished putting it on, I needed Loki to put on my sneakers and tie them together.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing those hideous things under such a beautiful gown.”

“Shut up. I just fell in the bathroom, I don’t want to die dancing in those goddamn heels!” I pointed at those 15cm high heels with NO STRAPS at all. I will be calling them the hooker heels from now on.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone to finish getting ready.” Loki left my chamber but left the door open. Of course, I went to take a peek. I saw him naked now a million times, but it never got old. He looked stunning. He wasn’t the Thor-like muscular type, but he also wasn’t the skinny bag of bones type. He was truly perfect.

“Y/N get ready and stop eyeing me.” I was caught. I quickly slammed the door and started doing my hair and make-up. Thank god they had make-up in Asgard.

We quickly arrived at 8PM sharp. Loki and I entwined our arms while we walked into the ballroom. The room was stunning. It was exactly like how I would describe winter-wonderland. As we walked in, the music stopped, and everyone was looking at us. At me. I’ve never felt so humiliating in my life. They were staring at me like I was a new kind of animal in the zoo. Quickly Frigga spoke.

“Loki. Y/N. Glad that you were able to come. Let’s continue!” Frigga waved, and the music started playing. I noticed it wasn’t “music music”. There was a whole goddamn Orchestra playing music.

Loki and I danced for hours. Everyone wanted to know whom I was and where I came from. The people were truly interested in me. I’ve never such interest in me in my life! I started chatting with Thor as well. Loki walked up to us.

“Thor, would you mind keeping an eye on Y/N? There’s something I’ve got to do.” “Sure thing brother. Go, I’ll make sure she’s safe.” Thor smiled at him and for once Loki smiled back. Loki faced me as well.

“Y/N, there’s something I’ve got to do quickly. I’ll return quickly.” He gave me a quick kiss and almost ran towards the doors.

“I have no idea what he’s up to lady Y/N, but he seems a bit nervous. Did anything happen?”

“No. Well. I fell on the bathroom floor a few hours ago, but I don’t think that has anything to do with it.” Thor laughed, and Thor asked if I wanted to dance with him. It was fun. He was clumsier than Loki, but we had fun. It felt like seconds and I watched Loki return.

“Hey.” Loki was out of breath.

“Hey. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, give me a second.” Loki walked up to Frigga and Odin and was speaking to them. They both nodded and then Loki returned.

“Y/N, I’d very much like to return to our chambers for the rest of the evening, would you please accompany me?” He was always talking so posh in public. It was funny. He would try to talk as mundane as possible to me when we would be alone, but in public he needed to keep up his “prince of Asgard” act.

“Yes, of course. Good night Thor.” I nodded at Thor. I was more of a hugger kind of person. But that would be seen as romantic here on Asgard. Thor knew I didn’t mean it that way, but everyone else thought I was. Thor smiled at me and after that Loki and I left.

As we entered the chamber, the whole floor was covered in black rose petals (with a few red ones there as well once in a while). There were candles everywhere, leaving a very nice scent.

“Loki what is all this? Is this the reason why you left the ball so suddenly?”

“Yes Y/N. I’ve figured out a way to control my frost-giant behaving.” I knew where he was going at. It meant he could also have “sex without ripping my head of”. I thought that claim was bullshit, but I really did not want to find out.

Loki slammed the door and started kissing me.

#Best friends with the god of mischief #chapter 8 #Loki #Imagine loki #My fic

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thekuroiookami · 7 years

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(1) Could you write something for Okamura wherein he falls victim to love at first sight w/ a girl who's opposite him (small frame, angelic face, sweet & gentle) after an accidental first encounter and since then he always watches her in school but doesn't try to pursue her 'cause he thinks he'll get rejected (his teammates tease him often). Then Okamura overhears her friends telling her she's too good for him but the girl tells them off for judging him without truly knowing him.

(2) Then Okamura decides to go for his feelings and shyly confesses, and to his surprise, the girl gives him a chance. Sorry I know there’s too many details. I just recently took a liking to this gorilla, hehe. Please make it extra sweet & fluffy. Thank you so much!

Okay, anon, this was pretty interesting, not gonna lie. At first I panicked because I barely knew Okamura and I didn’t want to disappoint, but I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out. It’s more comedy than fluff, but I tried my best to rot your teeth. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this!

The train rattled as it hurtled forward on itstracks, jerking Okamura out of a drowsy haze. He blinked and looked around,slightly confused. The compartment wasn’t packed like it usually was, but therewas a fair number of people occupying the space. He looked down, startled, ashis bag slid from the seat to the floor with a thump when the train took aparticularly sharp turn. He bent down to pick it up and paused as he caughtsight of a glint.

A shady looking man in dark clothing and abaseball cap inched slowly towards a petite girl. She stood with her back toOkamura, head bent as she perused her phone. The prowler crept closer and heldout his own cellphone face up to the edge of her uniform’s skirt. None of theother passengers noticed, either too tired or absorbed in their own worries topay attention. There was a muted click as the pervert tapped a button.Okamura’s blood instantly began boiling, his jaw tight with fury.

The girl looked up in mild puzzlement as sherealized someone was uncomfortably close. The criminal froze, caught partway inthe act. She opened her mouth to speak. “What-“ She stopped as a large shadowfell over them menacingly.

There was a choked garble as Okamura picked upthe man in one huge fist, fingers wrapped around his throat. The molesterflailed in Okamura’s grip, gasping for air as his windpipe collapsed underunrelenting pressure. Everyone in the compartment watched in rapt attention ashe growled. “Give me your phone. Now.”

The baseball cap fell off the man’s sandy hairas he shook his head desperately. Okamura couldn’t believe the audacity. Heshook the pervert a little, possibly rattling the man’s bones. “I saw you takea picture of that girl. Don’t lie. Hand me your cellphone.” There was a shockedintake of breath behind him, but he ignored it. The lowlife seemed to realizehe would perish of oxygen scarcity before Okamura let him go, and weakly tuggedsomething from his pocket. The man dropped to the ground in wheezing heap asthe tall captain grabbed the phone and let go.

The phone broke with a crunch in Okamura’shands. The blond man looked up with an expression of horror, hands rubbing hisbruised throat. Okamura looked down at him with disgust. “Do that again andI’ll haul you to the cops.” He watched as the offender scrambled away, all theother passengers suddenly giving the latter a wide berth. A tug on his sleevemade him turn around.

“T-thank you, you saved me.” A voice chimedout, melodic as a silver bell, but wavering slightly.

“Nah, I just-“ Okamura stopped short, words dying a startling death on histongue as he took in your face. Enormous grey eyes blinked up at him, framed byimpossibly thick lashes and the occasional lock of glossy hair. Your heart-shapedface was flushed in a delicate shade of rose, cupid’s bow lips parted insurprise. Your small frame was equally ethereal, all fawn-like lines and slimlegs. He’d never thought of himself as a romantic in that sense – Fukui wouldsay desperate was more like it – but he felt like an angel had fallen to earth,complete with shining halo and fluttering feathers. His brain came to acomplete halt trying to process the overabundance of beauty.

You swallowed nervously. “I w-wouldn’t haveknown if it weren’t for you. He might have gotten away with it.”

Okamura wanted to say something, preferably asuave rejoinder, but he opened his mouth and what came out was: “Your hair isthe colour of crème caramel.”

You were taken aback. “What?” Your brow furrowedas you tried to make sense of the ambiguous compliment.

He wanted to hit himself in the head with abrick. Of all the thick-headed things to say, he picked the one where hecompared the beautiful girl to pudding. Not that there was anything wrong withpudding, but that’s probably not what anyone wanted to be told they lookedlike. A shapeless brown mass. Tasty, but still shapeless. Actually, on furtherthought, the right punishment was having Murasakibara dunk him through thebasket while Kiyoshi was present.

“Um, I-“ Your small hands tightened around yourbag. “I don’t know what you meant, but I just wanted to thank you. So thankyou.”

Okamura gulped, too anxious now to make a replyand too nervous not to. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find theright words. You curled in on yourself as the silence stretched out, tremblingslightly. He suddenly realized that you were afraid. Of course you were. He hadjust lifted a guy off the floor single-handedly and now he loomed over you,monstrously huge. And after that awkward pick-up line he’d just said…Okamurastifled an internal groan. Godzilla. That’s what he probably looked like.

“I-it’s nothing,” he finally stammered. “Thatguy won’t bother anyone again, so- so don’t worry.”

You stared at him with wide eyes. Then hisheart stopped beating altogether for a single, glorious moment as your mouthcurved into a smile that would make roses weep. His jaw became slightly slackas your irises sparkled with happiness and your beauty was elevated from angelicto positively celestial. Maybe he was hallucinating the whole thing.

“I sure hope he doesn’t,” you said cheerfully.“But I feel reassured, so thank you again.” Your gaze fell to his hand. He felta pang of loss when your smile dropped. What would he have to do to see itagain?

Okamura stopped breathing for the second timethat day when you reached out. Your fingers hesitantly brushed over his palm.The tiny sliver of contact sent a bloom of warmth through his skin. His heartrate picked up, galloping to an unseen end like a racehorse. In his panic, hestuttered again.

“Wha-wha-what are you d-doing?” He flailed,unsure whether he should stay still, shake your hand, or just run away.

“Your hand is bleeding!” You pointed to a smallcut on his palm where a shard of destroyed cellphone had embedded itself. “Ohno, what do we do? You must be in pain, and it’s all my fault.”

He was still dazed by the fact that you weretalking to him, and for some indiscernible reason, concerned about him. The cutitself hardly hurt. It would definitely never compare to the time that he’dcaught a basketball with his face. He was more concerned with the achingfeeling in his chest that seemed to intensify as you fussed over his hand.Maybe he was coming down with something.

“It’s not that serious,” he mumbled. “I’ll befine.” His hand felt like it was on fire where it met your skin.

You pouted a little and his chest wrenched alittle more. “You at least have to stop the bleeding. How about…” You trailedoff to rummage in your bag, a bejewelled rabbit charm jingling as you searched.“Oh, here it is. Please, use this.”

You pressed a handkerchief into his palm. Itwas lacy and paper-thin, and it looked exactly like the kind of thing you wouldcarry. Okamura’s poor, overtaxed brain shut down again at the sight of theflouncy fabric in his hand. He couldn’t understand if this was punishment orreward, but he’d take it either way. He looked up to see you looking pleasedwith yourself. You gazed back expectantly.

“Ah! Yes! Thank you!” All his answers soundedlike a response to a military drill, but they were full words.

You smiled shyly and suddenly turned your headto the door. “Oh, that’s my stop. I’ll be leaving then. Thank you again.”

He nodded blankly in response. You bowed quicklyand glided out of the doors as they hissed open. Okamura looked down at thehandkerchief again, detecting a faintly floral scent from the cloth. On someinstinct, he lifted his head just as the doors closed. You stopped mid-step andlooked over your shoulder, straight at him. His eyes widened when you smiledand gave a small wave of goodbye. Okamura realized it then. He wasn’t comingdown with anything. He was falling, deep, hard and amazingly in love.

Fukui tilted his head left, then right. Hetilted it left again and clicked his tongue. “I don’t get it.”

Himuro looked up from the bench, pausing with aloop of shoelace around his fingers. Everyone else ignored the vice-captain.One silvery eye regarded Fukui warily. “Should I ask what it is?”

He gestured to the court where a dazed Okamuraambled along with a floaty smile and the occasional giggle. The other playerson court gave each other confused looks as Okamura watched a rebound fly offwith a dreamy expression, the ball rolling away with a disappointed thunk.

“That,” said Fukui emphatically, “is what I’mtalking about. He wasn’t very bright to begin with, but this is ridiculous.”

Coach Araki looked up from her clipboard, shookher head as if to say that ship had sailed ages ago, and went back to makingnotes. Himuro pursed his lips in thought. “Maybe he’s ill? There’s a flu goingaround in school.”

Fukui huffed in disdain. “All I know is that heturned a corner this morning, spotted something, went stiff as a board and thenwalked back like a robot. I wasn’t worried until he came back mutteringsomething about pudding and angels. Either it’s malaria or he had a religiousexperience. I really hope it isn’t the second one.”

Everyone watched as Okamura returned to thebench, the goofy smile still pasted onto his face. Liu’s eyes slid sideways totake in the captain’s attempt to use one of the training schedules as a towel.Even Murasakibara flinched as the coach’s infamous umbrella came down onOkamura’s head with a resounding crack. He hardly seemed to notice, absentlyrubbing his hair as he wandered off to the locker room with the dreaminess of aunicorn in moonlight. They all blinked in unison.

“Well,” observed Himuro, “I think we can safelyrule out malaria. Should we not attempt to do something about this?”

“Why?” asked Liu point-blank. “Does he owe theemoney?”

The shooting guard frowned. “No, we have amatch coming up, and if that’s how the captain is going to perform, we might aswell give up right now. Or substitute him.”

Fukui punched a fist into his palm. “We’regoing to get to the root of this. For the good of mankind, and out of concernfor a valuable team-mate. Coach, stop laughing.”

Araki was still snickering as they left, thespiky-haired vice-captain plotting their surveillance program. The next dayfound them peering at Okamura around a corner, who in turn was peering around acorner further down the hallway. Murasakibara leaned his forehead against thewall with a sigh.

“Ne, Muro-chin, why am I here again? Thecafeteria will run out of yakisoba bread.”

“Shush, Atsushi. This is a matter of greatimport.” Himuro leaned out as far as he could without being discovered. “Who isthe captain looking at?”

They all squinted at the two figures inOkamura’s line of sight. You hugged a stack of books to your chest, talkinganimatedly to a classmate with floppy hair. The boy nodded in response tosomething you said, his cheeks tinged with pink. Liu’s mouth curled down as hereturned his gaze to Okamura. “That person is behaving erratically.”

Fukui turned his attention to Liu’s remark.Okamura shuffled his feet nervously, shoulders rigid with tension as he peekedaround the wall. In what he considered an unbelievably ludicrous sight, thehuge captain dove back into hiding as you looked in his direction, facealarmingly red. Okamura’s knees seemed to be shaking. He clutched his shirtover his heart, breathing hard. It had all the symptoms of…

“Oh my god, he’s in love.” Everyone went intovarying expressions of disbelief at Fukui’s horrified declaration. “No wonderhe’s been acting like a headless chicken.”

“Really?” Himuro sounded doubtful. “Isn’t healways saying that though?”

Fukui smirked with triumph. “Trust me, I know.If you put together the clues…” He pointed dramatically at the boy you weretalking to. “…it’s clear he’s in love with the pudding-head over there.”

Murasakibara stuck his head out from behind thewall in curiosity. “He does have brown hair, I guess…”

Himuro and Wei looked like identicalpale-skinned, dark-haired owls. The shooting guard finally found his voice.“T-that’s his type? The studious kind?”

Fukui shrugged with the nonchalance of the heroin a cowboy movie. “To each their own. Now, as a caring friend and aresponsible vice-captain, I say we help him woo his beloved.”

Liu narrowed his eyes. “How dost thou proposewe achieve this?”

“I have my ways. We need to grab the gorillafirst, though.”

They all froze as you and your companion walkedaround the corner to catch sight of Okamura. Himuro noted with some alarm thatthe captain did not seem to be breathing. Your eyes widened at the sight of himplastered against the wall like a giant canvas. You stopped to talk to him,gesturing excitedly. The potential love interest merely nodded at Okamura andkept walking.

“This is going to be harder than I thought,”muttered Fukui. “He didn’t even stop to look at him. Not surprising, but stilldisheartening.”

They continued watching the strange movieplaying out before them. After a few garbled replies, Okamura reached into hisjacket and shakily handed a white square of fabric to you. You took it with ashy smile and said something that made his face colour like a neon sign. Therewas a heartrending look of pure longing on his face as he watched you leave forclass.

There was a moment of silence all round as theteam adjusted their worldviews. “Okay,” said Fukui, “I take it back. He’sdoomed. Someone tell coach we’re going to need a new power forward for the nextmatch.”

The game of hide and seek continued over thenext few weeks. Liu observed a pattern to your interactions with Okamura – he’dhover nearby with a hopeful look, then panic when you actually did notice him,make up some cringe-inducing excuse and run away leaving you baffled. It cameto the point where they borrowed a stopwatch from the coach to time the wholething. The record so far was forty-five seconds. Fukui wondered if they’d breakthat time today when you walked into the cafeteria with a couple of yourfriends.

Murasakibara also noticed your arrival. “Hmm,it’s the captain’s girlfriend.” Okamura choked on his taiyaki.

“She- she’s not my girlfriend! I just happenedto meet her on the train!” Despite the vehement denial, he still turned to lookas you stopped in front of the crowded lunch counter apprehensively.

“Wow, Rise-chan,” you said to a girl withpigtails, “it’s so…violent. Is this why it’s called Japanese Lunchtime Rush?”

The girl with a headband drooped. “We’ll neverget any coffee milk at this rate. You really wanted some, didn’t you?”

You gave her a sad smile that made Okamura’schest hurt. “It’s ok, Chie-chan, I’ll just come back another day.”

Fukui nudged him so hard it felt as if a ribhad caved in. “Go help her,” he hissed. “Stampede in like a heroic elephant andget her what she wants. Use that huge body for something.”

Liu tutted. “One doubts the lady will ever takean interest in thee, but there’s no harm in trying.”

The vice-captain did his patented shrug. “Mightas well. Haven’t seen Okamura this interested in something since the bakerysaid they were selling Turkish delight.”

“Whatever,” yawned Murasakibara, “just get me abox of pocky if you’re going. Or wait, make that two.”

Himuro looked at them with disapproval.“There’s no need to be so negative. Our captain has his own charms.” He seemedto lose confidence as he thought about it. “Even if they’re buried deeply.”

“Very deeply,” said Liu under his breath.

Okamura stood up like he had been electrified,the clatter of his chair making the others look up. He clenched a fist indetermination. “You’re right! She might appreciate a gesture of sincerity.____-san should not have to deal with this unruly pack of wolves.” He walkedover grandly to the crush of people and parted them with the ease of turningpages in a book.

The lady at counter stared in shock as Okamuraannounced his order. “Three cans of coffee-milk, please.” You stared as wellwhen he came over to you, his expression somewhere between grave earnestnessand social anxiety. “____-san, please take these.”

Okamura thought his lungs would warppermanently from holding his breath too long as you stood stock-still insurprise. Just when he was about to ascend to a different plane of existence,you broke into a delighted smile. He started inhaling oxygen again, but hisheart stuttered in compensation. Everyone else blinked, dazzled by thebrilliance of it.

“You’re so kind, Okamura-san!” You clasped yourhands together, eyes shining. “You didn’t have to do that for us. Here, let mepay you back.” You snapped open your coin purse and began counting out thechange.

He backed up, bumping into a chair in his hasteto get away. “I-it’s fine!” The words came out too loud and static. “You don’thave to- I mean, since you wanted it- erm, I have to go!” He scrambled out ofthe cafeteria, leaving you gazing in a bewildered fashion at his disappearingform. The team let out a collective sigh.

“How long was it this time?” Fukui didn’t lookvery optimistic.

Himuro glanced at his watch. “Twenty-threeseconds. Less than half a minute.” They all sighed again and went out to lookfor Okamura. Murasakibara spotted him by the stairwell, gazing into the middledistance with a dazed face.

“You should just confess already,” said Fukuibriskly. “Why torture yourself – and all of us – like this?”

The power forward blushed, shoulders hunching.“What’re you saying? You said it yourself. ___-san is too good for someone likeme.”

“Well,” Fukui stalled, unable to counter his ownargument, “that doesn’t mean she won’t give you a chance. You never know tillyou try.”

Okamura looked at the ground desolately andshook his head. “She’s everything that’s pure and good about the world. She’ssweet, and beautiful, and- and I probably scare the living daylights out ofher. She’s just too nice to say so.”

Himuro opened his mouth to say that wasn’t thecase, but a rather opinionated conversation grabbed their attention. “Say,”came a voice that Liu correctly identified as your friend Chie, “don’t youthink it’s a bit weird that Okamura guy hangs around you so much?”

“Really?” You sounded surprised. “I thought wejust ran into each other a lot.”

Your other friend scoffed. “How can you be sodense? He clearly likes you. A lot.”

“I don’t know about that,” you said hesitantly.Okamura could hear his blood pounding in his ears from the anticipation. “Isn’the just a nice person in general?” Liu’s eyebrows shot up into his hair at thecomment.

“Well either way, I hope it doesn’t go on fortoo much longer.” Chie shuddered. “I mean, you’re way out of his league.”Okamura’s heart sank to the vicinity of his knees. It wasn’t anything he didn’tknow, but it still hurt to hear it voiced like that.

Your tone sharpened. “What does that mean?”Your small hands balled into fists. “What are you implying about Okamura-san?”

“C’mon,” said Rise. “Think about it. Would yougo out with a guy like that? Imagine how you two would look as a couple.”

The subject of conversation hunched in onhimself a little more, feeling his soul splinter into a thousand tiny pieces. Himurohad to restrain Fukui from launching himself across the hallway in rage. “Whythat little- Only I get to badmouth the gorilla!”

You straightened, indignation vibrating offyour slim frame. “That’s not for you to decide, Rise-chan.” Everyone froze insurprise. Okamura’s heart rate picked up again. Could it be?

“In fact,” you continued, sounding surprisinglyangry, “that’s not for anyone except me to decide. You don’t know anythingabout him. You weren’t there when he saved me on the train. Okamura-san is agentle person, and honestly I wouldn’t care if he had an extra head. He’s beenkinder to me than most people. I didn’t think you were the kind of girl whowould judge a book by its cover.”

Okamura went into a state of absolutedisbelief, mind still reeling from the implications of your speech. His heartpounded in time to an invisible waltz, and it felt as if someone had pouredwarm electricity down his spine, the sparks flowing all the way to hisfingertips and toes. He turned to look at a similarly stunned Fukui and pointedto himself. “Was she really talkingabout me? I didn’t just dream that up, did I?”

Himuro smiled with feline smugness. “She didindeed. It looks like you have a confession to make.”

“Good for you, captain,” drawled Murasakibara.Liu said something about felicitations as well.

Fukui clapped Okamura on the back, the latterstill looking as if he was lost in a maze. “I never thought this day wouldcome. Go out and make me proud, my son.”

He gulped and looked over to where you werenodding at your contrite friend. The smile that brightened his day was back,revealing the deep dimple in your left cheek. Okamura’s stomach fluttered witha tumultuous mix of nervousness, intense hope and the joy of being seen as hereally was. He clutched onto the last emotion like a lifeline and squared hisshoulders.

“I’ll try my best!” He just had to hope that itwould be enough.

A few days later, you opened your locker toslip on your shoes and a piece of paper fell out. You picked up the note toread a message in strangely shaky handwriting: Please meet me behind the gym after school. There’s something I have tosay.

You turned the paper over in puzzlement to findit signed with Okamura’s name. Wondering what could have been important enoughto warrant a note, you made you way over to the assigned spot after class.Okamura was waiting under a cherry tree, the last few petals of fallingblossoms scattered over his broad shoulders. His hands were hidden behind hisback, and he seemed to mumbling something to himself.

“Okamura-san?” He went rigid with tension whenyou called out. “I got your note. What is it about?”

You waited patiently as he struggled to findcoherent sentences. His stumbling words were at such odds with his sturdy buildand his confidence on court, it made you smile a little. “I- err- it’s aboutus, you see- and then I thought I should-“

You tilted your head, lost. It always seemed tobe like this when he was around. Sometimes it felt like you were speaking differentlanguages. But you wanted to try and understand him, so you concentrated. “Idon’t understand, Okamura-san. What about us?”

He rubbed the back of his neck in what youfound a lovable gesture. You were always unaccountably shy in his presence, andthat quirk of his made you feel better because you felt less alone. Your mouthcurled up in an encouraging smile as his eyes met yours. He flushed a deep red,the strong lines of his jaw softened by the blush. Okamura took a deep breath,apparently bracing himself.

“I think you’re really pretty!” He blurted itout suddenly, catching you unawares.

Your cheeks grew hot and your spine stiffened.It felt like a swarm of butterflies had exploded in your stomach. “W-what?”

He swallowed hard and continued. “You’re like afairy, or a princess, or something from a story. And you’re kind, even to me.”

Your heart kicked up and started throbbingagainst your ribs. You couldn’t find words for the reality unfolding itself infront of you. “That’s…”

Okamura’s voice seemed to block out the worldaround you. “I may not have any chances with you, and you’re probably too goodfor me, but…” His voice dropped to a lower volume. Your breath caught as heheld out a bouquet of riotous blooms in every imaginable colour, his faceturned away in embarrassment. “I like you, ___-san. A lot. Please- please goout with me?”

Almost of their own accord, your hands reachedout and wrapped around the bouquet. Okamura jolted as your fingers brushed his,and somehow blushed darker. You buried your nose in the flowers and breathed intheir scent. They smelled pure, and reassuring. Just like him. “Where did youget so many? They’re beautiful.”

His head jerked up at the question. “I erm,didn’t know what colour you liked, so I just got them all. Do you…like them?”The last query was made shyly.

Something unfurled in your chest, a wingedcreature taking flight. “Yes,” you replied. “I like them. And I like you,Okamura-san. Let’s date.”

His eyes widened in utter shock. “A-are yousure? Why? I mean, I know I asked, but…”

“Why not?” You stepped closer to him, tippingyour head back to look at his face. “You’re a warm, caring person, and I trustyou. I’m honoured you asked.”

That statement seemed to be too much to bear.He gestured wildly. “That’s too much, I’m not-“ He froze in place as your armswrapped around his waist and you rested your head against him. You smiled as heslowly returned the hug, his strength wrapped carefully around you.

“I’m glad to know you, Okamura-san.” You lookedup again with mischief in your eyes. “Can I pick where we go for our firstdate?”

He nodded, still looking dazed. “O-of course,anything you want.”

“Then I’ll text you later. Shall we go homenow? I don’t want to miss the train.”

Okamura stood in silence for a moment, unableto believe his good fortune. Something had gone right somewhere and he hadsuddenly been blessed. Maybe the world was full of possibilities after all. “Yeah.Good thing we go on the same line, huh?”

You gave him that heart-stopping smile, the oneglittering with fairy dust and kindness. “It’s the best.”

He had to agree. Some things were worth therisk.

#ask #kuroko no basket #okamura kenichi #fem reader #fluff #crush #cuteness #humor #yosen's basketball team #this is over 4k words #what is my life #someone restrain me #liu's dialogue is too much fun to write

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fanfiction-and-coffee · 7 years

Note

"no. no, no, no — you really don’t want me as a soulmate." with jason todd please? for the angsty soulmate thing?

okay, so I wanted to do something a little different with this, because I don’t want to just use the same au for every prompt, you know? so for this one shot I’m going with an au where everyone feels an invisible magnetic pull towards their soulmate, and it gets stronger the closer you get to them. (not gonna lie, I’m reading the night circus by erin morgenstern right now, and this au is heavily based off of that book but with a soumate-y twist lmao) I hope that explanation makes sense.

jason’s backstory is also cool for this because it lets me think about what would happen to the soulmate bond if one person died, so here’s your official content warning for angst, character death, and some minor medical body horror.

prompt is from this list!

When Jason was in his early teens, he loved the idea of soulmates. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in him, too many hours spent poring over books like Pride And Prejudice and The Great Gatsby. Maybe it was because his parents weren’t soulmates, and he was still young enough to convince himself that all of the fighting and insults and viciousness in their relationship was because they just weren’t meant to be – that surely two people who were fated to be together could be nothing but happy. Or maybe he was just a lonely kid, desperate for love and attention, hanging on to the hope that there was someone out there in the great big world who wanted him.

Whatever the reason, he used to leave the house every morning wondering if today was the day that the unseen hands of fate would pull him towards his soulmate. He’d heard some people describe the bond as a magnetic pull, while others said it was more of a hollow ache, the sense that something was missing inside them. To him, it felt like a small but persistent tugging in his chest, like a string was tied around his heart, with someone holding the other end and gently pulling on it. On some days it was stronger than others, and those were the days that his hopes soared the highest, wondering if maybe the person he was meant to be with was right around the corner.

No one could accurately describe the feeling of finding your soulmate, and scientists speculated that it felt different for every person. All anyone knew for sure that it was a rush of endorphins, and that it just felt right. There was no way to miss it or mistake it for something else – when you found your soulmate, you’d know it.

After becoming Robin, he had less time to think about finding his soulmate. Between training and his new “night job” and adjusting to being part of his new family, he hardly had time to sleep, let alone daydream.

After he dies, after the Lazarus Pit brings him back broken and twisted and wrong, he stops thinking about his soulmate at all.

You were fourteen when your bond with your soulmate was severed.

You’d heard about bonds being cut before, of course. Even a bond between soulmates can’t bridge the gap between life and death. But no one had told you about the pain.

You woke up screaming in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat and clawing at your chest. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt, as if a hot knife had been plunged right through your heart. Every breath was a struggle, sawing painfully from your too-tight chest, and in that moment you were fully convinced that you were dying.

Your screams and sobs brought your family running to your room, but you hardly registered being gently lifted from bed and carefully changed into warm clothes. You felt disconnected, distant, only aware of the pain in your chest and the overwhelming sense that something was horrifically wrong.

By the time you reached the hospital, the pain had faded to a dull ache, and your breathing had returned to normal. You spent the rest of the night under observation in a hospital bed, being tested for various ailments as a team of doctors pondered about what could possibly send a healthy teenager into cardiac arrest.

It was the hospital’s head psychiatrist who sat you down a few days later, gently explaining that nothing was physically wrong with you, but that people’s bodies sometimes reacted this way when their bond with their soulmate was severed unexpectedly. It was uncommon to see it in someone so young, she told you in a sympathetic tone, but tragedies did sometimes happen. She ended the conversation by gently patting you on the arm and telling you that she was very sorry for your loss.

You stayed out of school for a week, telling your friends and classmates that you’d come down with a nasty case of the flu but were otherwise fine. Only your family and your doctors knew the truth.

The ache in your chest lasted for days before fading to a strange hollowness. You spent most of the week alone in your room, trying to wrap your head around the idea that your soulmate, the one person you’d been destined for, was gone. Dead.

You’d never given much thought to soulmates or destiny, always assuming that you’d have time for those things when you were older. Now, it was all you could think about.

For nearly an entire year, you lived every day with that empty feeling in your chest, the fundamental sense that something essential was missing, torn out. You weren’t in mourning – you’d never known your soulmate, didn’t even know their name. But without that bond that you’d always taken for granted, you felt cold.

When your friends commented on how much more serious you were these days, you told them that you were preoccupied with school, with family drama, whatever excuse it took to keep them from asking too many questions. You didn’t want to tell them what had really happened. What you’d lost. It was easier to keep it a secret, quietly grieving for a lost relationship with someone you’d never met, but should have.

And then, one day, almost a full year after the night the bond was severed, it suddenly returned.

There was no pain this time, no sudden change. You simply woke up one morning with the strangest feeling that something was different.

It only took a few minutes for you to realize that the change was in your chest, where the aching emptiness that you’d grown to accept as a part of you had been replaced by a soft, gentle warmth that you’d been sure you’d never feel again. You could feel the gentle tug, like your heart had its own gravity pulling it towards the person at the other end of the bond. After so many months of nothing, it felt strange. Wrong.

For weeks, you kept it a secret, half expecting the bond to disappear again, leaving you as alone and as hollow as before. When a month had passed and the bond remained steady and strong, you told your family about it, asking them nervously what this meant for you.

Nobody knows what it means, is the unhelpful answer that you got stuck with.

It’s not unheard of for people who lose a soulmate at a young age to develop a new bond, connecting them to a new fate with a new person, but it usually takes much longer than yours did. The therapist your family took you to suggested that you may have had a small mental break, causing your brain to convince your body that your bond had been lost, but she couldn’t think of any trauma in your life that would have been significant enough to cause such an episode, or what could have suddenly brought you out of it. You wondered if maybe it isn’t the other way around – if maybe your soulmate was really and truly dead, and your poor brain was hallucinating a new bond because you couldn’t accept the reality of what you’d lost.

Whatever the reason, you decided after those therapy sessions that you didn’t need a soulmate, whether you really had one out there somewhere or not. It’s pathetic, you think, to hang all of your happiness on a single person, and you’re determined to live a full life without one. So you put it out of your mind.

And when, five years later, the tugging sensation in your chest suddenly grows much more intense, as if your soulmate is now much closer to you than they were before, you are determined to ignore it.

Jason doesn’t like being back in Gotham. The city is full of rot and filth and bad memories, and his nightmares are always worse when he’s there. But what he hates most, whether he’ll admit it to himself or not, is that even after all this time, it still feels like home.

Part of it is that his family – and he does still think of them as family, despite everything – is here, sure, but it’s made worse by the fact that the pulling sensation in his chest intensifies whenever he’s within the city limits, like the person he’s being pulled towards is there. He doesn’t like thinking about it, doesn’t like admitting that he’s terrified by it.

Terrified that he’ll find his soulmate in Gotham, of all places. Terrified that he isn’t good enough, that they won’t want him. And the other alternative, the possibility that they’ll accept him despite everything and want to stay with him, is the most terrifying of all.

The people Jason Todd loves rarely stick around, and when they do, bad things always happen to them. He doesn’t want to inflict that on anyone else, doesn’t want to have to deal with losing anyone else he cares about.

Besides, after all the things he’s done, no sane person would want to be anywhere near him. Not that he’d blame them.

And so he ignores the feeling in his chest, and whenever he’s in Gotham he tries to avoid meeting new people.

“I’ve really gotta get out of this city,” you mumble under your breath. “Or at least stop going out at night.”

You’ve had this conversation with yourself a dozen times before, and yet you still have rent to pay, and so you still find yourself agreeing every time your boss asks you to work late. The walk from your place of work to the bus station that will take you home is fine, if not entirely pleasant, during the day, but once the sun goes down it becomes more than a little harrowing. There’s no “good part of town” in Gotham, but this area in particular has been known to get especially rough when the nocturnal crowd is roaming the streets.

Maybe you should look for a new job in a nicer part of the city, you think to yourself as you pass an alley between two buildings where a group of teenagers smoke something that definitely isn’t tobacco.

Tonight’s walk is even more tense than usual, the extra stress all due to the large man in a hoodie who has been walking several paces behind you for an uncomfortably long time. He’s too big for you to feel optimistic about your chances of fighting him off if it comes to that, and this isn’t the kind of neighborhood where you can count on someone coming to your aid if you scream.

Don’t stress about it, you command yourself, even as you reach into your bag for the pepper spray that you always carry with you when you have to walk the streets of Gotham alone. Think about something else. Anything else.

You usually make a point of not thinking about your soulmate, but right now it seems like as good a distraction as any. The tugging of the bond in your chest has intensified significantly in the last week or two, and you’ve been trying not to dwell on it. Even now, that steady warmth seems to grip your heart tightly, gently pulling you towards something you aren’t sure you want to find.

The man in the hoodie is definitely following you, you decide. You quicken your pace, only for him to match your new speed, the distance between you staying exactly the same. Your heart begins to beat faster, and you wonder if you started sprinting now if you could make it to the bus stop before he caught up to you.

You’ve gotten so worked up that you jump and nearly scream at the tall figure who ducks silently out of the doorway they’d been standing in, smoothly falling into step at your side.

“You shouldn’t be out by yourself this late, you know.” The figure says in a deep, definitely male voice.

“Neither should you.” As you say it, you take in the stranger out of the corner of your eye. He’s tall, but not as tall as you originally thought, you realize. He has broad shoulders and a muscular build that make him look bigger than he really is. But what you’re more concerned with is his outfit – he’s wearing a leather jacket that looks like it’s been torn and hastily mended in several places, and a bright red helmet that completely covers his head, including his face.

You almost groan out loud. If living in Gotham has taught you anything, it’s that people in costumes are rarely good news. And you’ve even heard of this guy before.

“Red Hood, right?” You lift an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be selling drugs somewhere?”

“I don’t sell the drugs, sweetheart.” He sounds like he’s grinning under the helmet. “I just tell other people where to sell them. Guy’s gotta make a living somehow. We can’t all be Bruce Wayne.” The way he says it, you’re fairly sure there’s a double meaning to the quip that you aren’t picking up on.

His tone suddenly becomes serious as he moves closer to you, so that his body is angled between you and the man following you. “I’m pretty sure there’s a human trafficking ring operating in this neighborhood. I’ve been trying to, uh, deal with them, but they’re harder to pin down than I expected.” The helmet tilts down towards you, and you’re pretty sure you detect a bit of concern in his voice. “Is there somewhere safe I can walk you to?”

“Yeah,” You say softly, suddenly no longer minding his close proximity. “My bus stop is just a few more blocks. I think I can make it home from there.”

“Good. That’s good.” He moves to put his hand on your back in a casual, friendly gesture. “Just act calm and casual, okay? We’re just two friends out for a–”

He stops mid-sentence when his hand connects with your back, and you can’t say you blame him. For your own part, you’re suddenly finding it difficult to stay on your feet, as your legs seem to have decided they’re no longer interested in supporting you.

The feeling is similar to an electric shock, and you can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to be struck by lightning. You’re almost painfully aware of his hand, still on your back, and you could swear you can feel the heat of his skin, even through multiple layers of clothing. But the most intense change is in your chest, where you feel as if whatever invisible thread was tied around your heart has suddenly gone taught, paired with a warmth and energy that seems to be spreading into your very bones. It’s not painful. In fact, you think it might be the most comforting thing you’ve ever felt.

It only lasts for a second or two before he snatches his hand away as if he’s been burnt, and as suddenly as the strange new feeling appeared, it’s gone. It leaves you reeling, and you stumble, almost tripping and falling. He moves to steady you, but then seems to think better of it. He’s careful not to touch you again.

“You felt that too, right?” Your voice is slightly breathless, and your knees still feel weak.

He nods slowly. When he speaks, the playful and confident tone is gone. “Yeah.” His voice breaks. “Yeah, I felt it.”

“What do you think…?” But before you can even finish asking the question, you know. You know it more clearly than you’ve known anything in your entire life.

He’s your soulmate.

“Is… is there somewhere private we could go?” You try to steady your breathing. You can already feel the emptiness settling in your chest, and a small part of you is desperate to touch him again. “I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah.” His hand floats towards yours, as if he’s going to take it, before he quickly snatches it back. “Uh, yeah, I know somewhere.” He turns away, not looking back to see if you follow. “Shit. Shit.”

The “somewhere private” he takes you to is an apartment that looks like it rarely, if ever, sees use. It’s surprisingly clean and well-furnished, each room decorated in a tasteful but minimalist style, but it feels empty, more like a display room in a furniture store than an actual home.

Jason closes the door behind you a little more forcefully than is strictly necessary, and he resists the urge to glance over at you as he makes his way across the living room and collapses onto the couch. This is one of his nicer hideouts in Gotham, partially because he rarely uses it.

His hands are shaking, he realizes. In fact, his whole body feels pretty damn shaken. He can still feel lingering traces of that overwhelming warmth in his chest, can still feel small flickers of electricity shooting through his veins. He wants to reach out to you, craves more of whatever the hell happened when he touched you before, and it’s all he can do to keep his thoughts together. He can’t touch you again. If he was smart, he would tell you to leave right now, and do everything within his power to make sure you never see him again. That would be the right thing to do.

You sit down next to him, and he sucks in a shaky breath. This is the time to do it, he tells himself, he has to tell you to leave before–

Gently, cautiously, you lay your hand on his arm. It’s the lightest, softest of touches, and yet the wave of feeling and sensation that comes with it is enough to take his breath away and make him feel slightly lightheaded. He’s never felt anything so right, so perfect, and for one short, beautiful second, he hopes it never stops.

Shaking off your touch in that moment is the hardest thing he’s ever done. But he does it.

He sees the hurt and confusion in your eyes, but you quickly smooth over it. You voice is little more than a whisper as you stare at him with wide eyes. “I never thought I’d actually find you.”

“No.” His voice sounds weak and panicky to his own ears as he jumps up from the couch, taking several steps away from you. “No, no, no — you really don’t want me as a soulmate. If you knew who I was, the things I’d done–”

“I know who you are.” You speak softly, like you’re afraid to startle him.

“No.” He keeps backing away, until almost the entire room separates the two of you. “No, you don’t. You have no idea – you can’t even imagine –” He takes a deep breath, fighting to steady himself, to at least sound like he’s in control of the situation, even if he feels hopelessly lost. “If you knew what I really was, you’d run away screaming.”

“Try me.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I think I can handle it.”

“You can’t.” Jason sinks down into the chair across from the couch, his head in his hands. “I can barely handle it, and I lived it. I don’t…” He looks up at you and takes a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want to pull you into all of that. Of this.” He waves his hand at the helmet that still covers his face, at the guns strapped to his side.

“Shouldn’t it be my choice?” Your voice sounds thick, heavy, like you’re on the verge of crying. He can’t look at you.

“I won’t do that to you.” His tone is firm, despite the ache in his chest. “Look: bad things happen to people who hang around me, okay? Just being with me could get you killed.” He slumps back in the chair, defeated. “You should go home and forget you ever met me.”

“I can’t.” You voice breaks, and when he looks up he sees that you are indeed crying. “I can’t go through that again. I don’t– I just can’t.”

“What do you mean, ‘again’?” He leans forward, eyes trained on your face.

“I thought I lost my soulmate, once before.” Your voice is shaky, and he notices that you have your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I was just a kid. Still in high school. I woke up in the middle of the night with this… this ripping, tearing feeling in my chest, and I thought I was dying. It felt like the world was ending.” You pause to angrily swipe at the tears running down your cheeks. “After that, my bond with my soulmate was just… gone. There was nothing there. I felt empty. They told me that my soulmate had probably died. When the bond came back, out of the blue, a year later, I thought…” You trail off, ending the sentence with a shrug rather than finishing it.

Jason feels like he’s been hit by a train. From your appearance, he can guess that you’re about his age, maybe a year or two younger, which means that when you were in high school…

He’s never wondered what his soulmate felt when he died. He came out of the Lazarus Pit with the bond somehow miraculously intact, so it’s never occurred to him that his death would have severed it, or that his resurrection might have somehow mended it. He’s never wondered what it would feel like to lose your soulmate before you even met them.

Now, looking at your face, he realizes just how awful it must have been.

“I’m sorry.” The words don’t feel like enough, but he means them with every fiber of his being. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. But now you know.” You stand up and slowly cross the room, before taking a seat on the arm of his chair. “And no matter what you’ve done, no matter how dangerous your life is… I’d rather have all of that, any day, than have to deal with losing my soulmate again. So can we at least try?” You hold out your hand, waiting for him to take it, to accept your offering of friendship, of maybe something more.

He hesitates for only a moment before he takes it.

#i got a little carried away so here's nine pages of angst #requested #soulmate au #angst #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd/reader #batfam #batman imagine #dc comics imagine #dc comics #batfam imagine

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