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oftenderweapons · 4 years

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Papa Noël — Namjoon

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 7.0k

Genre: fluff, smut, engaged rmxr, idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello bunnies! Merry Christmas to all of you. I wish you all the best ✨💜

I had to write this thingie because I’m selfish and I had this sort of unholy vision that told me, “you must do it”. And so I did this.

This fic is set on Namjoon and Vixen’s first Christmas together. The two are engaged (you’ll read about that sooner or later). Unfortunately, Vixen had to attend a dinner party at which she couldn’t bring Namjoon (their relationship is still very, very private, and even her parents don’t know who she’s dating, plus they respect her privacy). Namjoon spends the night with his friends, but decides to head back home and wait for Vixen — who is unforturnately late. As soon as she arrives, he is quite eager to warm her up and let her unwrap her Christmas gift. But he’d much rather unwrap her first.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: I’ll be on the naughty list forever after writing this. Swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, DDLG dynamics/daaddy kink, dirty talking, striptease, lingerie fetish, light foot fetish, very lowkey roleplay, sex toy (glass dildo), oral fixation, masturbation (female receiving) light bondage (satin bow), spanking (with rings... ahem), thigh riding, cum play and cum eating, mentions of oral sex (male receiving), a very emotional proposal, mentions of unprotected sex (never ever ever do that unless you’re 10000% sure BOTH YOU AND YOUR PARTNER(S) ARE CLEAN)

Suggested playlist: I Just Melt - Sabrina Claudio // Short Red Silk Lingerie - Sabrina Claudio // Santa Baby - Ariana Grande, Liz Gillies // I’ll Be Home For Christmas - Demi Lovato // Wishlist - Alaina Castillo

In case you need it, here is my masterlist :)

Enjoy!!!

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Papa Noël (French) — Santa Claus, en. [Daddy Christmas, lit.]

Namjoon sat on the sofa, his naked foot tapping against the plush carpet. For a second he considered what the actual fuck he was doing in his own living room dressed like that, making an absolute fool of himself.

Then he remembered the party your firm had organised for Christmas Eve, and the fact that he couldn’t have attended with you.

He hadn’t asked you to stay home, especially since your mother and father were going to attend too, and your boss and them had been friends for a very long time.

Obediently, you had followed your father’s will, you had put on your delicious blue velvet dress and you had made sure Namjoon saw you secure the little clip of your suspender belt to your stockings.

“I won’t be out late.” You had told him as he knelt and secured the small straps of your stilettos around your ankles.

“I’m a bit mad you’re going to be out, all dolled up, without me.”

“There’s a ring on my finger, Joonie.” You said.

“A ring and no fiancé. How inconvenient,” He murmured, letting his palms climb up the back of your thighs, until they met the naked skin above the elastic band of your stockings. “Aren’t they going to ask questions?” He asked, letting his long middle finger slide against the soft satin of your panties.

“No.” You said. “They know I’m in a relationship. They know I’ll tell them when I deem it appropriate.”

He moved his hand away from your slit, gripping your asscheeks. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“No.” You replied, dry, determined. Damn his paranoia. “You know there’s nothing I want to do more than use you as my toy boy, my future trophy husband.”

He grinned and sunk his nails into your flesh. “I’m just trying to keep you from rumors, my love.” You replied. “Not all the people in there are as discreet as I am.” You cupped his face. “And it’s not like I’m leaving you all alone.”

He nuzzled his face against your lap. “Jin and Angel are coming over at Yoongi and Kitten’s. I was invited,” Namjoon explained, taking his hands out of your skirt.

“I’m glad I’m leaving you in good hands.”

“It’s our first Christmas together.” He sulked.

“You’ll have me all for yourself tomorrow.” You combed his hair affectionately. “You’re lucky my family doesn’t take this Christmas thing seriously.”

“Will I get breakfast in bed?” He asked, raising to his feet and dwarfing you.

You studied his figure with your eyes, observing his cream turtleneck that made his skin tone look like molten caramel, the expensive cashmere so soft under your palms, and then the light brown slacks, the shape of his cock so delicious that you couldn’t hold yourself back from tracing it with the tip of your index finger.

“Will I get breakfast in bed?” You asked, taunting him.

“I don’t think it’s good for my babygirl to have her favourite candy cane first thing in the morning.” He replied, raising an eyebrow and catching your wrist. “I wouldn’t be a responsible daddy.”

“Come on, it’s Christmas.” You replied, whining a little and stretching to reach his mouth.

He grinned as he saw you struggle, his dimple appearing as you kept pushing yourself on the tip of your toes, trying to touch his lips with yours. His nose scrunched and his eyes shrinked to heated slits as he bent his head down, allowing you access before he tightened his hands on your waist and picked you up, lifting you a few inches from the ground while you tightened your arms around his neck.

“I’ll think about it.” He murmured on your lips.

“Please.” You hummed quietly.

His hand slipped down to your ass and squeezed it. “Maybe.”

You pouted and parted from him. “Then I think I might stay out late. Stay at my parents for the night. Mother always arranges beautiful brunches when I stay there. And Magdalene could enjoy me visiting her. You know, our governess. She raised me.” You said, fixing your dress and wearing your faux fur.

“Come home. Eleven forty-five. No later.” He said, wrapping a forearm around your hips and spinning you around; you stumbled a little on your heels with the whole motion and the way he joined his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. “I’ve got gifts to deliver.” He said, parting from you and fixing your lipstick.

“I’ll try.” You said, checking your watch and realising that probably your parents had already sent their driver to get you.

“I have to go.” You murmured, cupping his cheek. “You know there's nothing I wanted more than spending the evening with you.”

“I know. I’ll wait for you.” He said, fixing a small lock of your hair behind your ear.

He accompanied you to the front door and opened it for you. “Have a nice evening, love.”

“You too.” You replied, completely charmed as he set you free like a delicate, gracious butterfly.

————————————————

He started getting worried when he realised you were half an hour late. Then forty-five minutes. At midnight thirty-three, he heard some noise at the front door.

There you were, legs wobbly, giggling at the phone. “I’m home. Yeah. Love you too. Stay warm.” You said softly, and then squealed. “No, I won’t choke on my boyfriend’s enormous dick. I’m super late. He’ll kill me.” Another pause. “No, he won’t kill me with his colossal cock. Stop talking about my fiancé’s cock, you slut!” You erupted in a bubbly laugh.

Namjoon felt his disappointment disappear, just slightly.

“You could always go choke on Taehyung.” Pause. “Stop rubbing that on my face. I am TINY! It’s not my fault.”

Namjoon heard your snort-laugh. The one you used only with your closest people. He realised you were on the phone with Lace. He relaxed even more. “Gotta blast. Love you. Merry Christmas, you hoe.”

You giggled again as he heard you try to take off your shoes before you lost your balance, leaning on the wall. You hissed and cursed at the shoes. He heard the sound of you taking off your coat. And then you appeared, beautiful, so innocent, standing in the soft light of the Christmas Tree.

And there he was. Sitting on the sofa. Legs parted wide. Shirtless. Barefoot. In a pair of red satin loose sweatpants with white furry hems at the ankles. And a Christmas hat.

You swooned.

“You’re late, little fox.” He said, pinning his forearms to his thighs and leaning forward.

“I stayed out with Taehyung and Lace. We wanted to call you but I didn’t want to interrupt your previous arrangements.”

Namjoon licked his lips and bit his lower one, rubbing his index finger against his chin. “Jin and Angel kept making sex puns about chimneys and gifts and whatnots. Yoongi literally licked whipped cream off Kitten’s finger.” Namjoon exhaled. “It was painful. To say the least.”

You chuckled as discreetly as you could.

“Is it funny, Vixen?” He asked, tipping his head back. “You’re forty-five minutes late.”

You sucked your lips past your teeth, lowering your head. ��Tae and Lace were at the party. We left for a quick drink. We lost sense of time a little.” You said, flustered.

“I was here, waiting for you and you were out with your best friend and her boyfriend, my friend.” He said, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side. “Are you listening?”

“Yes. Of course. I’m sorry.”

No, you weren’t. You were staring at his biceps, flexing, his chest expanding with ample breaths, his pectorals twitching. The mole on his chest. The path that it drew up the tendon of his neck, joining the other little mole near his collarbone, all the way up to the one below his plump lip. And the way his skin glimmered deliciously at the delicate lights of the Christmas Tree. You were ready to ask him a picture.

In your uterus was currently burning a blue hypergiant star. Just to clarify, 37 times hotter than the Sun.

“You’re not listening.” He said, snickering. “I can see it.”

“I tried though.” You said shyly, pouting.

He smiled and laid against the back of the sofa. “Come here.”

You blinked a couple times, rubbing your hand against your sternum, worried, biting your lip and playing coy. “Can I take off my dress first?”

“Of course, babygirl.” He said, propping his elbows on the pillow behind his back.

You saw his chest stretch and oh’ed at the vision, making him giggle. “Come on, babe.”

You frowned and felt your ankles wobble as you undid the zipper at your side, bending down to lift your dress up from the lower hem, slipping it off from over your head.

It took you a while to orient yourself on your way out of your dress, but as soon as you were free, you placed it down folding it neatly over the coffee table, where you noticed a small package wrapped in red paper and a big ribbon.

“Is that mine?” You asked, batting your lashes at Namjoon.

“Yes, darling.” He said, his eyes skimming your entire form. “Are you tipsy?” He asked, worried.

“A teensy, tiny bit.” You said. “Literally one glass of champagne, a spoonful of punch and a glass of wine with Tae and Lace. Nothing more.” You said, easing his nerves. He didn’t like when you drank — only because you’re a lightweight and he doesn’t want you to get sick.

He smiled softly as you listed the drinks. “It’s okay, buttercup. I’m not trying to control you. Just making sure that you can take me.”

You bit your lower lip, nodding.

“You look delicious, sugardoll.” He said, now finally focusing on your attire.

You smiled cutely and fixed your hair. “You like it?”

“I do, babylove.” He said. “Let me see it from up close.”

You walked closer to him, standing in between his legs.

“Come on, give me a little twirl.” He said, placing his hand on your waist and helping you make a small, slow spin. You still had your heels on, after all. Just the way he liked it.

“Let’s take off the big girl shoes, yes? That way you can be all tiny and barefoot for daddy.” He said, finding your wrists and placing your palms on his naked shoulders.

His skin was so hot. To the touch too.

“Give me your foot, baby.” He said, looking up at you.

You felt like crying. In the best way possible.

You complied and his big fingers struggled a little with the small clasp before he managed to free it.

The other shoe was easier. He diligently placed the stilettos out of the way, by the side of the sofa. “Next these.” He said, laying his hand on the back of your thigh and placing your foot between his legs, so close to his cock, currently laying across his lap, half mast towards his left hip. You noticed he still had a set of rings on, including the one shaped like a thick bear head, which he had bought in honour of the nickname you had assigned him.

He fought with the clip of the suspender belt, vaguely knowing that he should look for a small clasp on the upper elastic band of the stockings, but not knowing how to undo them. He still had a lot to learn, he realised.

Your spindly fingers assisted him, showing the procedure. “There’s a rubber nub, inside. It grips the stocking and blocks it inside the metal frame, on the outside. You just need to slide the nub out of the frame.” You explained, showing him.

He observed the movement of your fingers, the suspender strap snapping free.

“There are other three. You can practice.” You smiled gently.

He looked at your sweet face, at your eyes glittering in the Christmas lights. He was completely in love. Enchanted. Head over heels.

He turned his eyes down, looking once more at the suspender strap on the other thigh, caressing your naked skin with the back of his index and middle fingers before hooking them under the fabric of your stocking, spotting a flat rubber surface. That must be the back of the nub. With his thumb, on the outer side, he spotted the nub, hooked in the small metal frame, covered in nylon. He slid it upwards and felt the strap snap.

“Just like that, daddy.” You said, removing his hat with a smile and caressing his hair. So soft. It smelled like cedarwood, vetiver and patchouli. It smelled like safety, home, reassurance. Passion. Unconditional love.

You led his hand to the back of your thigh and he percurred the length of the elastic strap to the hem of your stocking.

You exhaled and closed your eyes as you felt his fingers on your nude leg.

With the left side undone, he placed your leg down and picked up the other, laying it directly on his lap, where you felt his hardening sex under the sole of your foot. “Don’t press down, babygirl.” He said, making a quick work of the last clasp before looking up at you.

“Good boy. Quick learner.” You said, caressing his face.

He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into your palm. His hands flew to your waist and held you there as he scooted closer to the edge of the sofa, coincidentally pushing his cock into your foot.

However, his focus wasn’t there. His target was your inner thigh, which he licked elegantly, suavely, before moving his mouth along you leg, gripping the hem of your left stocking with his teeth and slowly pulling at it, making the nylon roll down your leg, until it reached your calf. You lifted your leg for him, bringing your ankle and then your foot close to his mouth. He laid back against the sofa, the black sheer stocking dangling from his mouth as he stared at you and cocked an eyebrow teasingly.

You giggled and squealed at the vision.

“I hope my feet don’t smell.” You chuckled.

He pouted. “You never really smell.” He said after letting the garment fall from his mouth. “Really. Your sweat never smells.” He said accompanying your leg down and picking up the other. “And I’ve made you sweat a lot. I would know.”

Again he grabbed your stocking with his teeth, tugging it harder this time, since it looked stuck to your skin. With your assistance, he pulled it all the way down, this time letting it fall straight away to place a kiss on the curve of your foot.

“You’ve got the prettiest little footsies.” He murmured. “They’re babylike. So soft. So small.”

“It’s your feet being exceedingly big. I’m medium sized.” You replied, placing both your feet on the floor.

“Wow.” He said, staring at you. Now he had time to study the deep red silk slip you had been wearing under your dress, with its delicate white lace applications on your chest and on the lower hem. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

You giggled, embarrassed before pulling a cocky move, slipping your hands under the silk gown and hooking your thumbs into the sides of your thong, wiggling your hips as you pulled it down and bent to Namjoon’s waist, tucking the accessory into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Now you’re the luckiest.” You said, grinning at him mischievously.

He simply raised his eyebrows, mouth wide, perfectly still for a couple seconds before he leaned his head to the side, looking away, his lips curling up in the smallest smile, making eye contact with you and shaking his head.

“Don’t think I forgot you being forty-eight minutes late.” He said, leaning forward as you placed your foot on his knee, parting your legs just enough to let him sniff at your wetness.

“But Santa, dearest, I’ve been a good girl all year.” You said, placing your foot down again and pressing your hands to your lap, bending one knee slightly and letting your body twist a little, side to side.

You looked like the sweetest, cutest little girl in Namjoon eyes, playing coy, acting shy, feigning innocence and conquering him with all your little charms.

“And you’ve already brought me my gift. Wouldn’t it be cruel to take it away?” You asked, furrowing your brow and pushing your lower lip forward in the most adorable expression.

“Take your gift, then, darling.”

Your face sparked up, and you turned quickly, bending over to snatch your package.

Of course Namjoon, with predatorial reflexes, leaned forward to sink his teeth into the round curve of your ass.

You squealed and stood quickly, a bit surprised. “Joon!”

He simply wrapped his arms around you middle and placed you across his lap, making you sit there, your bent knee offering him the magnificent curve of your hip as he began rubbing the side of your leg.

For a moment, your eyes closed and you snuggled into his warm, strong chest. “I’m sorry, I used your lotion.”

You sniffed him and melted, rubbing the side of your face against his shoulder.

“You’re so… mhhhh.” You moaned, speechless.

His chest rumbled with a deep, silent laugh. “You like it, babylove.”

“I love you.” You replied, looking him in the eye.

He kissed your forehead sweetly. “I know, babylove. Open you gift, princess.”

You kissed him on the cheek, his dimple making a brief apparition before you focused on the ribbon, tugging at it gently, using your nails to undo the knots.

“It’s Lace’s doing. The package.” You said, noticing the small details she always inserted on her special orders from the atelier. You had seen her fabricate the small treasures yourself.

Namjoon snorted in surprise. “It is.”

“Is it lingerie?” You asked, beaming up and looking at him.

“No, Vixen, open your present.” He said, slightly frustrated as you took your time. Sometimes dealing with you could be a true test of patience for him. Still, he loved you more than everything. And dealing with a brat like you required patience. His best assets in taming you were patience, brains and ruthless gentleness. The more you lost your cool, the more he became icy in his stubbornness and determination.

Your brow creased with curiosity as you ripped off the paper. The box underneath was plain white leather, designed like a jewellery box, but more curious, especially once you spotted the double crosses on the lid.

Could it be…?

You looked at Namjoon and lifted the lid.

Inside, the case was covered in black silk, and right there, laying on a small pillow, you saw the fanciest, most elaborate toy you had ever set your sight on.

“You like it, sugardoll?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your temple, looking at your face, studying your expression and trying to read your reaction.

“Daddy?” You asked, turning to him, tilting your head to look at him properly.

“Yes, doll?”

“Why was there Lace’s signature package on it?”

“I had it commissioned through her. She knows the artist.” He explained. “She made the package since I’m helpless at those.”

“You had it commissioned?” You asked, eyes wide in amusement.

“For you, yes. A candy cane for my sugar doll.” He explained, moving your hair out of your face.

“Thank you, daddy.” You replied, politely and gratefully.

“It’s okay, my love.” He said, his hand still rubbing your outer thigh while his free palm moved to your neck, his index finger moving your chin towards him, his lips landing on yours chastely.

“It’s really, really pretty.” You said, moving your stare back to the box.

“It was made for my pretty girl.” He said, running his nose against your cheekbone. “Would you like to try it?”

You nodded.

He grinned. “Then I want you over my knees, little vixen.”

Obeying, you kneeled on the floor, the sofa low just enough that Namjoon’s thighs didn’t press painfully against your belly.

“Are your knees safe, babygirl?” He asked, turning your face towards his.

“Yes, daddy.” You replied obediently.

“Good girl.” He praised you, taking the case from your hands and gripping the toy in his palm.

He tried to relax and keep his erection from becoming too much of a bother. That could and would wait.

Placing the case down, he moved the toy in front of your lips. “You know what to do, little fox.” He said.

Just like that, without even needing his command, you lolled your tongue out, covering the glass candy cane-shaped dildo in your drool with long, wide licks. A string of saliva fell on his clothed thigh while he observed the quick work of your tongue lapping at the tip shaped just like that of an actual cock.

“You look so lovely, my little fox.” He said, caressing your hair off your face, fixing the mother of pearl hair-comb that held back your long locks from your face, holding it with two fingers, so delicately, trying not to break it as he pushed it back into your hair. “I can only imagine how many people were drooling for you tonight.”

You looked at him while he rubbed the tip of the toy against your mouth, your lips naturally parting and wrapping around the glass, becoming even fuller and plumper.

He could barely resist himself as he looked at you, laying there, with your wide, innocent eyes, your lashes fluttering like feathery little wings, and your mouth, so dirty and sinful and absolutely lascivious.

He yet had to understand your pure-depraved ratio. It was something he felt but couldn’t explain.

And most of the time it was not one, nor the other that set him off, but rather the combination and absolute divergence of the two.

You bobbed your head slightly, still staring at him, and for a second he thought ‘what if it were not a toy, what if it were another man? What if i were holding him while she took him in her mouth, and she kept her eyes on me?’

You saw his nostrils flare, his chest expand, his whole posture becoming even more magnificent.

You pulled the toy off your mouth. You bit your lip. “What are you thinking?”

“If it was another man in your mouth.” He admitted, caressing your ass through your silk slip, the smoothness of the fabric making the weight of his hand glide freely on your lower back before he lifted up the garment, exposing the curve of your ass, your slick folds.

He massaged your naked skin, extremely glad that he was wearing rings only on one hand.

“I don’t want that.” You said, as soon as he made eye-contact with you.

“What, Vixen?”

“I don’t want another man. Ever.” You said, and it wasn’t a praise, it wasn’t a lure, and it wasn’t flattery. “I only want you.” You said, your hand wrapping around his ankle as it was the only part that you could hold on to, his hands busy and your palms too small for his thighs and calves.

He rubbed your ass a couple times. “Daddy would never allow anyone else, babylove.” His hand cupped your heat, his palm laying on the seam of your butt while his middle finger found your clit easily. He felt your wetness spread over his middle finger, coating it as he drew it between your labia. “You and I have something special, little fox. It’s only ours.” He kissed the top of your head. “You trust daddy?” He asked, his expression warm as he addressed you.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Daddy will slip his finger in now, babylove. Would you like that?”

You nodded, again, “Yes, daddy.”

Slowly he drew his middle finger inside, one knuckle at a time.

You purred as you felt him draw out slightly and turn his wrist, his digit finding your cervix and drawing its outlines.

“Joonie...” You murmured, opening your mouth and stretching your neck to reach the toy.

He toyed with you, placing it before your mouth and pulling it away just as your lips skimmed the material, repeating the taunt a few times, grinning as you turned and glared at him.

“What the— Oh! Fu—!”

You said, ready to scold him but changing your mind as he added a finger inside, Shutting your mouth mid-swear.

He thrusted his fingers hard. “I have told you many, many times, that when you’re naked in front of me you must never, ever swear, little one.” And he punctuated each word with a crook of his fingers, adding another as he murmured, very slowly, ‘little one’.

You whined around the dildo, frowning as you writhed over his knees.

“What do you say, Vixen?” He said, removing the toy.

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He replied. “Do you think you’re stretched out enough for your toy, babygirl?” He asked, massaging his fingers slowly and delicately inside you.

You nodded eagerly. “I want it, please daddy.”

“Such a polite little thing.” He cooed, removing his fingers, letting them hover over your ass, while he teased the glass tip over your slit, rubbing it up and down, letting the first inch in.

“Oh, Joon—”

“Easy, darling.” He said, rubbing his thumb against your tailbone, keeping his wet fingers off your skin, trying to keep you as clean as possible while also trying to comfort you.

“It’s big.” You said, digging your nails into his ankle.

“It’s not that big, Vixen.” He said caressing your spine and letting the dildo sink into your heat while you hummed, focusing on every ridge of the toy, the spiraling swirls imitating the candy cane giving you a completely new sensation.

Namjoon bent down to place a small kiss on the mole on your asscheek, sinking his teeth around it. “You have the most incredible butt in the whole universe, little thing.” He said, placing another small kiss on it. “So damn beautiful.”

“Daddy...” You cried out once he fed all of the shaft into you, leaving only the handle to hang out.

“Careful now, baby fox.” He said as he gave the toy a slow twist, just like he had with his wrist before, twisting the hook of the handle toward your front, letting it brush against your clit.

“Oh my god, Joon.” You whispered.

“Relax, baby.” He cooed, raising his upper body and bringing his forehead to your temple. Next he brought his wet fingers to your lips.

It felt obvious for you to open your mouth and let him place his fingers on your tongue.

“Can you taste how sweet you are, ____? How fucking sweet your cunt tastes?” He asked. You let your tongue slither and slide through every crevasse between his fingers, where your taste hid best, and then you set your target on simply sucking, making sure that his fingers came out clean, only drenched in your drool.

“I can never part from it.” He murmured, choosing that moment to take his digits away and turn your face so his tongue could caress your lower lip and entangle with yours, trying to steal the taste of you from your mouth.

“I’m never letting another man have your mouth. Taste your sweet, precious pussy. Feel how fucking good it feels to move inside your tiny body. My pretty doll.” He praised you and reassured you possessively, his thumb rubbing your lips.

“Daddy?” You called innocently.

“Yes, baby.” He replied, dragging his slippery fingers against your ass seducingly.

“Would you please spank me?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him.

He raised his eyebrows before he wore a lopsided smirk that made his dimple pop up. “You’d like me to?” He asked, his voice decisively happy.

“If you want to?” You replied, crossing your arms over his thigh and laying your head there.

“Shall we go for sixteen, babe?” He asked, considering that he wanted to simply arouse you before he moved on to his actual goal.

“Okay.” You replied, knowing that you could do better, but acting smart and restraining yourself from wanting more, not knowing how it would feel like with the toy.

“Count them for me?” He asked, patting your head, moving your hair aside.

You nodded obediently before he lifted his hand, your eyes shutting, waiting for him to hit you, just before you felt his hand land on you softly, his stomach moving with a silent laugh after he tricked you.

You pouted and looked at him and just like that he delivered the first smack, making you howl, your inner muscles clenching and moving the dildo just enough for it to tickle your clit.

He kept touching your hair as his hand pressed the toy into you.

“One.” He said, pinching your ass, inviting you to count.

He went on blow after blow, your ass slowly losing sensitivity to the rough impact of his thick rings on your skin. He got rougher at around smack four, when usually he gave you a bit more time before actually going at it hard. Anyway, a small part of your brain, not commanded by arousal and pain, understood and related to his urgency, especially considering how long he hasn’t been acting on the rock-hard cock begging for attention inside his sweats. At hit number nine, you realised his pattern, and how religiously he was sticking to it: smaking your ass, rubbing it for ten seconds, pressing the toy back into you after your inner muscles had pushed it out with the sudden stimulation of his spanks. And repeat

From number twelve, he went all out, trying to give it to you exactly the way you want it and need it. Harsh, merciless, torturously good.

“Sixteen,” you called, exhausted as he fixed the toy inside, your ass burning under his touch, his other hand laying on your head, caressing it like you were nothing short of his pet.

“Are you okay, babylove?” He called, bending to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe.

“Yes, just...” You took your time. “It burns a tiny, tiny bit.” You said, trying not to worry him.

And still he freaked out. “Okay, would you like your cooling gel? Cold pack? I tried to go easy but a—”

“Stop worrying, big bear. I’m okay.” You said, patting his leg in a reassuring way. “But there’s something bothering me a little...”

“What is it, babe?” He asked, cupping your cheek, ready to reassure you.

“What if instead of running away to grab my lotion, you just stayed here and used that fancy candy cane to make me cum?” You said. “I’m so close, I just need you to touch my clit a little, please, daddy!” You tried to convince him.

Your hand stretched back, spreading over his beautiful chest and sliding down towards his crotch.

Lovingly, he caught your hand in his, stopping it over his chest. “Anything you want, precious.”

He kept your hands trapped to his chest, keeping it still and grinning at you mischievously once you tried to slide it down toward his abs. However, the other one moved to your ass, his upper body leaning on it as he blew cold air on it. “I’m gonna twist it around,” he said, placing his hand on the handle and pulling it out just enough to turn the handle toward your ass. He brought your hand down, catching the other one too and placing them on your back, putting your wrists together, quickly grabbing the red satin ribbon you had unwrapped from your Christmas gift.

“I’m simply going to tie it up like shoelaces, Vixen. No fancy business, I promise, but don’t tug at it. Do you understand, baby fox?”

“Yes, daddy.” You replied, staying still as you felt the delicate material against your wrists, his fingers making a quick bow out of the ribbon.

“Is it okay, ____?” He asked, his voice telling you that it was Namjoon and not daddy talking to you.

“Yup, all good.” You said simply.

“Perfect. I just want you to cum as soon as possible, Vixen.” He said, getting to work between your legs. “Like this?” He asked, placing his digit at the apex of your labia, but needing your guidance in finding your clit.

“Just a bit to the left.” You said. “My left.” You added, and he followed with microscopical movements, knowing he had found the right spot when he slid a tiny fraction downwards and you mewled his name, squealing.

“There it is,” he said, wrapping his free hand around the handle of the dildo and thrusting with small movements inside you, making sure that you were still wet and that he didn’t hurt you.

“Keep going with both.” You said, your brow furrowing. “I need...”

“Need to make it wet, sorry baby.” He said, moving his finger away from your clit and putting it in his mouth, tempted to slide it in with the toy, but too worried about messing up your climax. He immediately found your clit again, toying around it a little before finding the spot that made you tug at your wrists and arch your back, your hips starting to move on their own accord.

“Like that, Vixen. Take what you need, baby.” He said, his arm a bit uncomfortable at the angle as he thrusted the toy inside you; nevertheless, he kept going, determined on seeing you come undone.

Which happened, finally. Your mouth opened in a strangled cry before you pressed it to his clothed thigh, suppressing a scream.

“That’s it, baby fox. Feels good?” He asked just as you writhed, trying to escape from his digit on your clit, quickly pushing you into overstimulation.

“Too good.” You replied, turning your head to the side. “Stop, please.”

“You know the word, Vixen. ‘Stop’ ain’t getting you nowhere.” He said, feeling his dick twitch as you begged.

“Mint.” You spoke softly into his leg, escaping his wicked ministrations.

His hand moved away from your sensitive spot.

“I want you.” You murmured. “I’m close, but I want to be near you.” You looked at him with your eyes barely open, your breath wild, your heartbeat wild against his leg. “Not like this.” You called, wiggling your fingers.

He tugged the toy out, placing it on top of the ripped paper of the package not to mess the sofa, then pushed it out of the way. His fingers tugged at one of the strings, careful not to jam the knot. Soon your wrists were free and he helped you on your knees, raising your torso.

“Easy, love.” He said, twining your fingers together as you stood up, making sure that you didn’t get dizzy by standing up too fast.

Soon one of his hands let go of yours, his forearm wrapping behind your back and pulling you into him, making you kneel on the sofa. “Straddle my thigh, babygirl.” He said with a low, rumbling timbre.

“Gonna mess your fancy Santa slacks.” You said, smiling confusedly.

“We can wash them for next year.” He replied, his skin burning as your front connected with his. He pressed your hand into his, against his chest, pulling you closer as your wetness connected with his strong thigh.

“I’m already close.” You said, nuzzling into his neck, under his jaw, kissing the small mole.

“Really, uh?”

“You stopped when I was on the edge, before, after the first.” You said, parting from his throat and looking for his lips with your eyes closed, your hips already rolling back and forth on him.

“You’re a vision, babe.” He said, hitching your slip dress up, so he could look at your mound, at your hips, riding him as you ruthlessly chased your pleasure. “You were close close, uh?”

You nodded, sucking his lower lip into your mouth, his left hand sprawled over your left asscheek, gripping it and helping you ride him.

“Yes,” you sibilated as you felt his nails sink into you. You arched your back even more, your movements turning into small circles once you felt his quadricep flex, your clit connecting fully with the satin of his trousers. “So good. I need— I love your thighs.” You said, rambling helplessly as your free hand went into his hair, tugging it gently and letting your fingers slide down, with a delicate scratch of your nails, running around his neck and jaw and touching his cheek, parting your face enough to look him in the eye, waiting a few seconds for your gaze to focus on him.

“Mhmh,” he said, smirking, helping you quicken your pace. “I love you, babe.”

You nodded and tipped your head back, pleasure rolling down your spine, pooling at your core.

With your throat right in front of his face, Namjoon bent forward, his lips zeroing in on the point where he could feel your pulse and focusing there, sucking and nibbling at your skin while your mouth opened in a whine that quickly turned into a thin mewl. His nails clawed at your ass, squeezing it tighter now that you were deep into your high.

He kept his mouth at your neck, a deep bruise blooming on your skin, parting from you only when he felt your hips slow down and halt.

“It was the prettiest sound you’ve ever made on top of me.” He said, bringing your joined hands to his lips and kissing yours, his other hand letting go of you, soothing the skin he had manhandled so thoroughly.

Your hand toyed with the messy locks of his hair before sliding down to his front, touching his skin feverishly while he hugged you to him.

You were tempted to stay in the warmth of his embrace as you kissed the skin of his pectorals.

“I have a Christmas gift too.” You murmured, trying to untuck his face from your loose, wild hair.

“Stay here. Ride me.” He said, his forearm flexing and squeezing you to his front.

“Want you to open it first.” You said, nipping at his nipple, which convinced him to let you go.

You quickly stood up and took a couple steps toward the Christmas tree, dipping your arm in and wincing as you felt the small synthetic needles prickle your arm.

“You hid it in there?”

You looked at him and nodded, feeling for a small box with your fingers, cheering once you found it.

You retracted your arm as quick as possible and sauntered towards him.

“I didn’t do a nice package,” you explained, embarrassed.

“What…?” He said as you kneeled between his parted legs.

“We said stuff. On our trip.” You said, remembering your quick getaway. “But it was mostly you who did the talking.” You continued, looking down. “Now it’s my turn to speak.” Your eyes met his. “I’m gonna make an honest man out of you, someday.”

His lips turned into an ear-to-ear grin,

“I’m gonna love you as much as my small body allows, and my heart will stop the day I stop loving you. I’m gonna give you a home.” You said, getting emotional as you saw a tear slide down his cheek. “And I’m gonna give you children.” You stretched to dry the small silvery droplet rolling down his face. “I’m gonna make a dad of you.” You said, parting from his face only long enough to open the small box. “But first I will introduce you to my parents.” You said. “My fun relatives and my boring ones too.” You looked at the thick dark wooden band lined in black tungsten. “All my annoying colleagues.” You arched your brows. “And the ones I like much better.” You broke down as you imagined what would come next. “I’d walk down the isle dressed in white for you.”

“Yes.” He said, not even letting you finish. “Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes, ____.” He was crying shamelessly by now, sliding down to the floor and hugging you to his chest.

“I’d walk through hell with you. Hell would feel like heaven with you.” You said, sobbing. “And heaven would feel like hell without you. Marry me, Namjoon.”

“Yes, baby.” He said, kissing your forehead and your lips with both your faces wet with tears. “Put that damn ring on me, princess.” He said, parting from you and giving you his right hand.

Completely excited, your hands trembled as you extracted the wide wooden band, put down the box and placed your hand under his, your forefinger and thumb sliding the ring into his finger.

“You’re shaking, little fox.” He said, hugging you to himself, his eyes studying the ring as you disappeared into his chest, his chin propped on top of your head as his eyes perused the dark wood, protected by a thick layer of lacquer.

“I mentioned to my parents that I’d like to introduce you to them.” You said, shyly. “In January. As soon as you’re done with the shows and everything. I told them I would like to have dinner, all together.” You said, looking up at him. “We didn’t like… Choose a date or anything. I told them we could have dinner, a weekend or another.”

“I’d be honoured.” He said, smiling at you gently.

You stared at him in silence for a couple seconds.

He closed his eyes, steadying himself for what you were about to say, knowing that it would very likely be something completely inappropriate. That’s how you deal with stress.

You licked your lips and giggled at his expression. You knew it so well.

“Is it the wrong moment to say I want my fiancé to ram my stomach with his huge, thick, enormous and delicious cock?”

“You’re fucking filthy and adorable. Up,” He said, holding you by the waist as he helped you stand up and climb his body.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and he held you up with his forearm while his hand dipped into his sweatpants. You mouthed at his jaw. “Please...”

He groaned as he entered you slowly, making you slide down and onto him.

“Feels perfect...” You whimpered as he held you still, breathing through his teeth.

“It will feel even more perfect while I fuck my fiancée stupid on our bed.” He said, making his way to your room. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

“Is Santa gonna cum in my chimney?” You asked with an amused expression.

He shook his head in disbelief and then wore a small smile. “Gonna stuff you like a stocking.”

You squealed and giggled, “Merry Christmas, indeed.”

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #rm smut #rm x reader #namjoon christmas fic #bts blog #bts smut

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poedameronloverx · 3 years

Text

A New Way Of Life

Life In Lockdown Series Masterlist

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Summary - As the reality of working from home sets in, you and your friends have to learn to work around one another, whilst also finding things to relax you to make evenings with your friends a lot of fun.

Warnings - Mentions of covid

Word Count - 2090

Week 1 – March 2020

The first few days of lockdown were a challenge. Trying to get in touch with people from work was proving more difficult than you’d first thought. You were getting easily distracted as well. BeeBee spent his time going between Poe in the dining room and you in the living room, the open plan nature basically making it a massive room for him to wander around in. Anytime he came near you, you couldn’t resist picking him up for snuggles. Poe was a distraction too, he liked to sing to himself as he worked and the sound of his voice was distracting you from whatever work you were doing. After reading the same line of an email 4 times you decided to take a break, you headed to the kitchen and started up the coffee machine. BeeBee followed you, deciding to have his own drink break with his bowl of water. Rose appeared in the kitchen whilst you were waiting for your coffee to be done.

“How’s it going?” she asked

“It’s a lot more challenging than I thought. Everything is distracting me!”

“Me too” she replied “And most people aren’t picking up calls today because they’ve all obviously had to close their offices as well”

“I can’t get hold of management” you replied “And BeeBee keeps wanting attention and he’s so cute I always give in! We should put a smart watch on him. He’s probably done 10000 steps walking between Poe and I”

“How’s Poe as a colleague?”

“Distracting, he keeps singing”

“He’s a good singer, could be worse” Rose chuckled

“Yeah he’s great but my mind just hears singing and thinks it’s done with work” you replied “Have you heard anything from Finn?”

“No, the doors been closed all morning. I don’t think he even came out for a break”

“Hopefully it’s going alright for him”

“Why don’t we do something tonight” Rose said “We’re all having weird days so maybe we could plan fun things in the evenings”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Movie night tonight” she replied “We can make dinner then watch a bunch of movies. We can plan other things for other evenings”

“I’m in” you replied “It’ll be nice to have something to look forward to”

“What are we looking forward to?” Poe asked as he joined you in the kitchen

“Oh, Rose was just saying we should plan fun things to do in the evenings, starting with movie night tonight”

“Sounds great. This working remotely thing is really not fun”

“BeeBee likes it” you smiled “He’s enjoying going between us”

“Well as long as the best boy is happy then we all are” Poe chuckled, leaning down to scoop the dog into his arms “You’re the best little buddy aren’t you”

“So cute!” Rose whispered

Rose’s idea for a movie night was just what everyone needed after the first day of the strange new reality the world found itself in. The 4 of you picked a movie each, the genres ranged from musicals, to Disney, to action and finally horror. You didn’t hate horror movies but they would never be your first choice. BeeBee who had taken residence in your lap for movie night suddenly found himself being hugged a lot tighter than previously. Rose and Finn were sat on one sofa all cuddled up, Rose had a blanket over her head and Finn was chuckling at her anytime she jumped at the scares from the movie. Poe and you were sat on the opposite side of the room. A blanket covered your legs, which were crossed underneath you. Poe was stretched out, his feet hanging off the end of the sofa and his head rested on a pillow a few inches away from you. He sat up when you jumped at one particularly bad jump scare.

“Hey, you alright?” he whispered

“Just not really my kind of movie” you replied

“Me neither, but Finn loves them so I’ve got used to them! I can hold your hand if you want”

“Thank you, but I’ll be fine. It’s just a stupid movie right?”

“Right” Poe smiled, he sat up and moved closer to you “Just incase anyone tries to grab you, I’ll not let them”

The sun decided to make an appearance on the 3rd and 4th days of lockdown. It wasn't tropical temperatures or anything but you could get away with being in the garden as long as you had a hoodie on. Rose was completely snowed under at work and you rarely saw Finn apart from lunch. Poe’s boss had taken pity on them all after a stressful few days and given them the Friday as a day off. You could see him sat in the garden with BeeBee whilst you worked. It was approaching 12.00 and you were slowly losing the will to live. You managed to push through until 1pm when you were ready for lunch. Your boss emailed to give everyone the afternoon off so you made your lunch, pulled a hoodie on and headed out to the garden to join Poe. As soon as the sun hit your skin, you instantly felt relaxed. It had been a strange week and you were grateful to be able to start your weekend a few hours early. You grabbed one of the garden chairs and moved it over next to Poe.

“Happy weekend” he said as you sat down

“It’s been the weirdest week in the entire world. I’m so glad we made it to the weekend”

“Me too, and I’m really glad you got an early finish. Bee isn’t the best conversation holder” he winked

“He’s cute though, he gets points for that at least!”

“That goes without saying”

The dog must’ve known he was being spoken about. He got up from his place in the shade to come and get some attention.

“Wanna take him a walk with me later?” Poe asked “The ice cream kiosk in the park is open, we could get something there, and it would be nice to have some company”

“Yeah, that sounds good”

Finn and Rose were still upstairs working when it came time for BeeBee’s walk. You texted Rose to tell her you’d gone with Poe. The park was beautiful in the sun, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d actually visited it. It was only a 10 minute walk away from the house but you didn't really have a reason to go to it. There were families out on walks, people on their own, people with dogs. Everyone was out enjoying the weather and taking their one form of daily outdoor exercise. You chuckled as BeeBee tried to make friends with every other dog and human he came across, his little tail wagging the entire time. Poe led you over to the ice cream kiosk he had mentioned; there was a long socially distanced queue.

“You keep an eye on Bee and I’ll get us some ice cream” he smiled “There’s a bench just round the back of this kiosk, nobody ever sits at it but it’s at a really good bit for Bee to run around. I’ll come and get you once I get the ice cream”

You nodded and made your way round to the bench Poe had mentioned. Like he said, the area was quiet; there was one woman with a dog that you’d seen earlier on, BeeBee and her dog had sniffed one another when you'd walked passed her just after walking into the park. You took the ball you’d lifted before leaving the house out of your pocket and threw it for the little dog. He happily chased after it, always bringing it back. He set it down for a second to talk to the woman who was stood at the other side of the grass, her dog spotted it’s opportunity and grabbed it. The woman chased after her dog and eventually got the ball back. She walked over to the bench and stood far enough away from where you were, but close enough to lay the ball down.

“Sorry about that, he’s terrible for stealing from other dogs”

You chuckled “It’s not a problem, it’s this ones fault for trying to be too sociable”

She smiled “Your dog is so cute!”

“He is cute, but sadly he’s not mine. I have to give him back”

“Ah, he’s your boyfriends. The guy you were walking with earlier”

You could feel yourself blushing “Em, yeah he belongs to him, but he’s not my boyfriend. Just a friend and lockdown house mate”

“Oh, I’m sorry I just assumed” she replied “You guys looked liked a super cute couple when I spotted you earlier”

“It’s fine” you replied with a shrug.

You wished he was your boyfriend, you’d had a crush on the man since the first day you met him. The two of you had clicked right away when Ben had introduced you. Him and Poe had been classmates that didn’t keep in touch, you vaguely remembered seeing Poe at your brothers birthday parties when you were kids but nobody paid you much attention back then because they were all older and you were the annoying little sister of their friend. Poe and Ben had met back up again when Ben became a client of Poe’s work. You were introduced to Poe when Ben and Rey got engaged and had a party. You’d later found out you had a mutual friend in Finn and the 3 of you started to hang out. You’d known Finn since high school, you never went to the same school but you both had a part time job at a local café. Finding out Poe was Finn’s best friend and roommate made you re-connect with Finn. You’d kept in touch on social media for years but didn’t really spend a lot of time together so through Poe that all changed. When you’d introduced Finn and Rose it had been love at first sight. The 4 of you could be found hanging out on a regular basis; everyone always assumed it was a double date because of how close you and Poe were. He was a touchy, feely guy. He would often be found with his arm round your shoulders, his hand on your back when you were walking anywhere with him. You loved it but also hated it because you always wanted more. The reason you had never mentioned anything was because you were scared he wouldn’t feel the same and you didn’t want such a good friendship to fall apart if you told him and made things awkward. Rose knew, but she promised she wouldn't tell Poe.

BeeBee and the other dog went back to playing together and the woman wandered back to where she had originally been stood. You took a few photos on your phone and uploaded them to social media. Everyone needed a boost during the weird times you were in and you thought there was no better way to cheer people up than photos of cute dogs. After what felt like hours, Poe finally came to join you. He handed you a small tub of ice cream and a slushie.

“Man are they busy” he said, flopping down next to you on the bench “Did Bee behave?”

“He did, that dog he’s playing with stole his ball but they’re on friendly terms now”

“That’s good news” Poe chuckled

The two of you sat and enjoyed your ice creams, the weather and one another’s company. When you were ready to head back home Poe phoned Finn, the local takeaways were open for delivery and Poe decided it was too nice a night for anyone to be cooking. The evening was spent eating as much pizza as you could and watching videos on YouTube. Finn was really into the ones exploring abandoned places and you all fell down a rabbit hole of watching video after video. Rose fell asleep first, and you soon followed. Eventually leaning over and falling onto Poe’s shoulder. Poe and Finn smiled at one another. You had all survived a crazy week, you’d had to adapt to an all new way of life and there had been some hiccups but overall you’d all coped. You were thankfully all healthy, and you had good company and were surrounded by your best friends. Life was far from perfect but both of them knew that things could be a lot worse, and that worldwide things would get worse before they improved.

So once again please let me know what you thought, I want to get better as a writer and I can only do that with your help. Thank you for all of the kind comments one the last part, they really made me smile! <3

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x f!reader #tw: covid 19 #tw: covid #poe dameron x solo!reader

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bangtanlalaland · 5 years

Text

in case we die | kth (m.)

synopsis ↳how could you fall for the living when you’re dead? when all you wanted was to haunt the man that murdered you?

— 1980′s!au

→pairing: serial killer!kim taehyung x spirit!female reader ↳featuring: bf!kim seokjin

→genre: smut, angst, low key crack

→word count: 10.3k

→contents ⨯ warnings: 10 year age gap (idk if that’s important lolol), spectrophilia (sexual attraction to ghosts), hybristophilia, lots & lots of angst, tiniest bit of fluff, murder (obvi), obsession, hair kink¿ (is that even a thing?), mentions of death, blood here & there, spirits (duh), swearing, dirty talk, masturbation, voyeurism, orgasms, unprotected sex (protect yourselves!), oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cum swallowing, creampie

↳inspired by: Tinashe’s “In Case We Die” mixtape

☞ disclaimer: Please do not take this story 10000% serious. I promise I’m a normal human being with morals. This body of text is for entertainment purposes only. All characters, settings, scenarios, and dialogue are fictitious. Any similarity to events or persons, whether living or dead, is coincidental.

The flash of lightning from the storm and shuddering sound of thunder overtake the gloomy night. The lock clicks as Taehyung pries open the back door of his neighbors’ family-style home. Silently creeping through the kitchen, the lingering scent of a delicious dinner from hours ago fills his nostrils. His senses are peaking, adrenaline is rushing, skin perspiring.

No, this isn’t his first time killing someone. But it’s the first time that he feels things are a bit off. Like he chose the wrong house kind of off. Sweat drops dripping down his forehead, palms are sweating profusely. He knows every single crack and crevice of this house but the feeling is still uneasy.

He stammers in his tracks, thrown off completely. What is the matter? I’ve been doing this for years, he thinks to himself. Is it the fact that he has history with this family? The numerous framed pictures on the wall catch his attention as he stands before the stairs. Or maybe it’s because of you.

He sees the family portrait, with you placed in the middle surrounded by your parents. His heart suddenly drops. The sight of you staring back at him through the photo causes his fists to clench.

Why does he want to kill you? Should he rethink his entire plan? He was 10 years older than you, but had known you and your family for just as long. He wanted you all to himself. Sure you were a young, eighteen-year old, naive, high school senior but he knew it wouldn’t be possible. Especially since you have a boyfriend.

Prom night was a memory he would never forget. Your parents asked him to escort you and your boyfriend in his stationwagon. When he arrived at your home to pick you up, he admired the way your prom dress hugged your figure in the most sexiest way. So much that it made him have wild thoughts about you, leaving him a horny mess at the end of the night.

He remembers storming into his home and locking his bedroom door shut. His fingers run furiously through his black mullet, chest heaving up and down, sweating profusely. Full of rage, frustration, lust, and regret. He unbuckles his belt to drop his pants and briefs all in one go, aching to release his tension.

His member pops straight up, rock hard as he plops on his bed lying on his back. Closing his eyes and picturing you in your prom dress, he wraps his slender fingers around himself and gradually pumps. “Fuck,” he whispers. If only he could rip the material away from your tight bod to expose what he’s been craving for so long. He relishes in the memory of your bouncy, curled hair, filled of volume and basked in the scent of hairspray.

The simple thought of how it would feel to tug your strands between his fingers whilst he penetrates you. He continues to play your voice over and over again in his mind, when you called his name: “Taehyung!” greeting him with open arms, when he arrived at your home. The tantalizing aroma of your being captivated him in that moment. He pumps faster, the sound of your voice echoing through his eardrums.

Lips begin to part, his breathing hitches in the moment. Your face is all he can see. Your voice is all he can hear. Your scent is all he can smell. Your body is what he needs. His member leaks of pre-cum, coating his tip in the liquid as it oozes out. He lets out a breathy moan, calling your name.

The feeling of your skin clinging to his, while he’s on top of you. Both of your bodies scorching and sticking to one another, binded with perspiration. Your moans escaping your lips from under him, inspiring him to pound deeper into you. Your nails scraping his back, your squeals and cries for him are what send him over the edge.

“Taehyung!” you yelp.

He loosens his grip on his throbbing cock, gently stroking up and down. His chest rumbles as a lengthy moan slips from his lips. His lower area tenses up, and his member spasms. He uses his unoccupied hand to grip his bed comforter, twisting and turning the material around as the pleasure washes over his body. The stream of liquid, pooling from his balls to his tip, shoot up in the air and land back on his pelvic area.

“I’m... cumming, fuck.”

The strands of his jet, black hair soaking in sweat and sticking to his forehead. His eyes flutter open, chest heaving up and down, he continues to escape from his orgasmic high. Taehyung stares up into the ceiling, and takes a deep breath.

He props himself up on his elbows to gaze at the cum that’s smothered on his lower half. If only you were there to clean his mess with your mouth, so that he wouldn’t have to waste another tissue to wipe away his jizz and toss it in the trash. He swears, under his breath, at the thought of it.

Then, he’s reminded just how lonely he is. He couldn’t stand seeing you with your boyfriend. Just the thought that someone else got to touch you, kiss you, and worst of all: fuck you. All the things he’d been dying to do to you. He always wished he could snap your boyfriend’s head to end it all. But he knew that wouldn’t solve anything.

He didn’t want to see you hurt, and most importantly he didn’t want you to hate him. Besides, he knew you would never accept him if you found out he’s a serial killer. For years, he became obsessed with the idea of death. He targeted women, because he knew how much more vulnerable they are than men.

That gave him authority and control. In college, he’d done an ample amount of research on life after death, near death experiences, the supposed “afterlife,” and even spectrophilia. There had been a few rare cases of humans having sexual encounters with ghosts.

He also found that if a spirit was not rested, it would linger on Earth within the Spirit World or “Afterlife” as they call it. And based on the research he had done, spirits mostly were not rested in peace because the body itself was murdered.

That was when the idea sparked.

He had finally came to the conclusion that he has to kill you. If he can’t have you in this life, then he could have you in the afterlife. His plan was going to work, and he was going to make sure of it.

Yet another clash of thunder snaps Taehyung out of the pondering thoughts he’s having of his premeditated actions. He shakes his head. Snap out of it! Must not have any second thoughts at this moment. It’s important to stick to the plan. No distractions.

His eyes follow his path ahead of him. He quietly removes his shoes before proceeding further. His light weight causes a slight creak in the stairs, as he mindfully approaches the second level. His eyes dart toward your room, and his heart beats profoundly.

He continues to scan his surroundings, reassuring that no one was around or watching. Being careful in case someone were to awaken. Lightning strikes again, creating a brief flash of light throughout the home. Taehyung silently treads toward your room. He stops in front of your door, inhaling a deep breath.

Taehyung carefully wraps his hand around the door knob, slowly turning it in a counter-clockwise motion. He takes one last breath before pushing the door open gradually. The slight creak in the door startles him, but he’s back at ease when he steps inside your room to find that you’re still sound asleep under your covers.

The door behind him is shut quietly, and he turns around. He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply, taking in the aroma of your room. His right hand slips into the knife pocket attached to his jeans, pulling out the weapon with a needy force, exposing the blade of his bowie knife. He places the knife face down and sneaks it between his chest, inside his corduroy jacket. He continues to stand there simply admiring the view of you in your slumber.

It’s time to put an end to it all.

It’s Sunday in the month of May. You’re home alone with your parents enjoying the remainder of the night. Seated on the couch between your parents, you hear a ding! Your mouth waters at the sound of the microwave beeping. Your buttery popcorn is ready.

You hurriedly skip to the kitchen before the next program on TV comes on. The air from the steamy kernels fills your senses. You quickly grab one of those big, plastic bowls to dump the popcorn in.

“Sweetheart, it’s the news!”

Coming! you respond. You make it back to the living room and plop down on the sofa. The TV stutters a few times, as it did 20 minutes ago. This time your dad gets out of his comfy spot and he does not look happy.

“Goddammit! Nancy, I told you we shouldn’t have bought this from that damn yard sale. You know Tim would sell a lemon for a car if his life depended on it.”

“Oh hush it, Carl. At least we have some kind of entertainment. Right, sweetheart?” your mother asks directing to you.

You nod your head while stuffing your mouth with popcorn. Your dad continues to swear under his breath and pound on the TV with his fist. He fumbles with the antenna and the television gradually comes back to life.

“There we go,” he says, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and finding his way back to his spot beside you on the sofa.

I repeat. This is John Turner with Channel 4 News. For anyone that is just now tuning in.. Today we have received new information from the local police department on “The Silent Creeper” who has yet striked again.

“Are they still trying to find that crazy man killing all of those women?”

“Last I heard he was about 10 miles from here.”

“10 miles?!”

You can’t hear reporter John at this point, with your parents going back and forth, “Shhh!”

The three of you stare at the TV, in need of answers. Someone hands the reporter a vanilla folder.

“I will now read the statement that the police department has released.”

“To the townspeople, we want to make everyone aware that our team is working diligently to capture the criminal that has continued to terrorize the surrounding areas for the past 3 years, but whom has now reached our town as well. The Silent Creeper was last seen in our town on Friday night.”

You hear your mom gasp. “Oh my God! Friday was prom night!”

“Mom!”

“He assaulted a victim with a deadly weapon and attempted to strangle her with a telephone cord, only to be startled when the cord sparked as the victim was still alive. Realizing that he had not succeeded, he fled the scene. Unfortunately, we had not been able to arrive on scene in time enough to catch him from the time the victim called the station.”

“As each day passes, we are getting closer to putting The Silent Creeper to an end. In addition, we were able to get a brief description from the victim. He is a fair-skinned male standing at about or around 6 feet tall with black hair, medium length. Long enough to touch the base of his neck along with bangs that cover his eyebrows. He is said to have large hands and a slim figure, carrying a knife blade. He is also known to have a hair fetish, collecting samples of head hair from his victims.”

“We ask that everyone locks their doors and windows. Please leave at least one light on in your home that can be visible in the front section of your home, as well as your front porch light. We advise that no one goes out at night unaccompanied. We highly recommend that no one leaves their homes past 10 p.m. whether accompanied or not, until we catch this criminal. Should you have any dire reason to leave your home past those hours, please call the station before doing so.”

“Lastly, we ask that everyone remains calm but stay alert and aware of your surroundings. Please do not answer your doors for anyone late at night, unless you are expecting a visitor. We are currently working on a sketch of the criminal and plan to release it by tomorrow afternoon. Should anyone have any information regarding this case, please give the station a call.”

“Well, there you heard it. Stay safe out there, folks. This is John Turner with Channel 4 News, signing off.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and the program shuts down. Leaving the TV screen in a color coded background. Your mouth is agape, not believing that the town you grew up in is now not safe. The one place that you called your home, is now a prison.

“He was here?” you slip.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” your mother says with a pokerface.

“Honey, don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine,” your father responds almost nonchalantly.

“Don’t worry?! Everything is going to be fine? There is a murderer out on the loose and that could have been OUR daughter! She was out all night for prom with Jin!”

Your head begins to throb with a slight pain, hearing your parents constant bickering. You place the popcorn bowl on the couch and get up to walk towards the stairs, but stop in your tracks and rub your temples with the tips of your fingers.

“Yeah, at the school! That’s why Taehyung escorted them both! At least we are well aware of what the hell is going on in this damn town so we can be prepared!”

“Oh, it’s just so easy for you to brush this off because you are too wrapped up in that... that job of yours to be concerned about your own child’s safety!”

“I don’t have to put up with this! If it makes you feel any better, I do care about Y/N’s safety! She is MY daughter.”

“Well if you care, Carl. Start acting like it!”

You finally crack. “ENOUGH!”

Both of your parents snap towards you.

“Can you both please just stop? It doesn’t make the situation any better with you two arguing.” You pause for a brief moment, recollecting your thoughts.

“Dad, it’s okay if you’re scared. I know your my father and I know you feel obligated to protect me. But I want you to know that I know you’re human. I know you aren’t invincible. And there’s nothing wrong with being scared.”

They both look at each other then drop their heads low.

“Mom, I don’t want you to worry yourself to death. Dad’s right, I was with Jinnie and Taehyung on prom night. And nothing happened. Maybe it’s for a reason. We just have to believe that everything will be okay. At least we know now what we should be aware of and what to do to protect ourselves. I love you both.”

Your dad looks up and walks towards you, with your mother following behind him.

“We love you more, pumpkin.” He states with open arms, embracing you with a hug filled with love. You mother joins the two of you, wrapping her arms around you both.

Meanwhile, Taehyung sits in the dark, at his kitchen table, sipping coffee. He stares into space. Today’s newspaper article sits in front of him on the table, with the headline that reads:

THE SILENT CREEPER STRIKES AGAIN!

He knows he’s fucked. He sips the last swig of his coffee, rises from his seat, and angrily throws the mug at the wall ahead him, the ceramic pieces shattering onto the cold tile.

His fingers find the newspaper, and he tears it apart. Paper pieces landing on the ground. Rage fills his being and he lets out an absurd growl, while pounding on the kitchen cabinets. He runs his hands through his dark mullet, replaying Friday night over and over again in his head.

After coming home that night and releasing his tension, he was alone and he knew it. He needed another rush. Something to get him going. Something to get you off of his mind, because you were all he could think about.

So, what did I do wrong? What is happening to me? What if they catch me? Numerous questions continue to run through his mind. He had been doing this for over 3 years. Why would it all end now?

He's like an expert at this. If he gets caught now, that means all of his work meant nothing. All those times, he had elaborate plans and every one fell through perfectly. So what is the difference now?

He rests his hands on the counter with his arms extended all the way out. Sweat trickles down his forehead as his breathing calms down. The kitchen is filled with silence, leaving a ringing noise in his ears when suddenly it stops as his eyes trail up and through his kitchen window.

The blinds to the window in your room were open, and he could see you. Then it finally hit him, it was like a light-bulb flicked on with an idea in his head. He realizes that he can’t function because of you. You are a distraction. You are ruining his ways. And it is in this moment, Taehyung realizes that he has to kill you tonight.

Before he gets caught for good.

You remember your last night on Earth as if it were yesterday, literally. It wasn’t until you felt an unbearable stinging sensation on your neck that you had awaken from your deep sleep. You felt a warm liquid pooling from your throat, delaying your breathing. Your eyes shot open, and there was Taehyung Kim towering over you. Small spurts of blood shot onto him, covering his cheeks, chin, and forehead.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. It was him. The man you called your neighbor for so many years. Whom you trusted your entire life. You would have never guessed that it was him all along. That he’s The Silent Creeper.

The shine of the moonlight reflected off of his knife, as he held it up. With a hungry force, he plunges the knife into your abdomen. Completely taking your breath away. As much as you tried to fight, you couldn’t.

He had you pinned down with his thighs. You couldn’t move or scream. His large, cold hand covered your mouth to conceal any noises you attempted to make. He removes the blade from you and plunged into you again, causing you to choke. You gather up enough strength to claw at his biceps with your nails, only to fail because of the jacket that conceals his arms.

It was useless.

You knew that it was over. You were going to die. You try opening your mouth to question him. To beg him to stop what he was doing. To probe him as to why he was doing this.

Had I done something wrong? Did I say something wrong? What could cause him to kill me? Why would he want to kill me?

But the last plunge into your tummy makes your hands drop. Noticing this, he drops the knife on the floor and busies himself by cutting a portion of your hair.

Bringing it to his nose to take a lengthy wauf of it, he inhales deeply into his lungs. Your vision blurs as you lose consciousness. You attempt to grab him again, only being able to reach his right cheek. You wanted to scratch his face, to dig into his flesh in hopes that he would makes enough noise to awaken your parents.

But you didn’t have the strength. Unfortunately your hand could only caress him instead. Something you did not want to do. Your hand slowly lost its control as it slid down from his face, to his chest, then to his abdomen, and finally plopped onto his thigh.

Your breathing stopped, but your eyes remained open. You can no longer move, not even a finger. That’s when you knew you were dead. It was strange at first. When you realized you were no longer looking up into his eyes.

Instead, you were watching him from above. Like a birds view.

Where am I? Why am I not lying in bed? I mean, I am still in bed but it’s like I’m floating in the air, staring at my body lying in bed.

You watch Taehyung as he observes your body drenched in a pool of blood, that continues to soak your bed sheet. He simply sits there, tilting his head left and right and caressing your cheek.

“Why couldn’t you just stay out of my way?”

He takes another sniff of your luscious locs in his hand. What does he mean by that? How was I in his way? You attempt to reach out to him but nothing happens. You have no arms, no hands, no fingers. Nothing. You were just there. The fact that you’re dead and can no longer defend yourself, let alone stop him, pissed you off.

“Now look at you. My work here is done.”

His work? What?

He may be “done” with whatever it is he’s talking about, but you weren’t. And you were going to make sure of it. Once you figure out how you can control what’s happening to you. You take a moment to accept what’s already happened.

So why now? You hadn’t even begun to start your life. Graduation was this week, and you couldn’t even make it! And Jin? You can’t imagine how devastated he would be once he finds out you’re dead, murdered actually. Is there anyway you could see him for just one last time?

All you want is to see his gorgeous face light up as his plump, pink lips curl up into the brightest smile that could blind anyone that looks his way. It hurts you to know that you couldn’t even say goodbye. Or just a simple I love you. Just one more time. You needed him, and you know if he could have been there for you to save the day then he would have done so and much more.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you noticed Taehyung lifts himself off of you, planting his feet on the floor of your room. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and cracks his neck. What is wrong with him? How could one be so cruel? You always saw him to be such a gentleman. Guess you never really knew him all along.

Taehyung kneels down to grab his knife, and quietly sneaks out of your room. You can’t believe that he manages to escape, without a trace. Without anyone knowing what has happened. Only you knew who killed you. You knew who The Silent Creeper is, and there’s nothing you could do about it.

You can’t stop him. You can’t just call the police station to let them know: “Hey guys! You know that creepy guy that’s been killing all those women? Yeah, The Silent Creeper. He’s actually my neighbor. Oh, how do I know? Because he killed me!”

You’re filled with a grand amount of anguish just thinking about it. Your killer walks free as if nothing has happened, as if he didn’t just stab and slice you to your death. You want to scream, fight, hell maybe even just pound on something. But you can’t. You’re stuck “here,” whatever “here” is.

And you want out. You want to end his life. Just as he ended yours. But you won’t back down, not until he gets what he pays for. Even if it takes to haunt him for the rest of his life.

He will pay.

I’ve got to get out of here. You attempt to walk, knowing that you can’t yet you try anyway. But instead of actually moving, you find a way to float down, so now you’re eye-level with your surroundings - as if you were actually walking. Your essence floats throughout the room. You focus your direction towards your room door and just like that you float straight through it and now you’re on the other side.

You continue to float, making your way to your parents room, just so you could see them one last time. You find them sound asleep. The anguish slowly dissipates, and now there’s an overwhelming feeling of gloom. You didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. Your mother lays there on her side, as you watch her chest heave.

Your father on the right side lies on his back, snoring with his mouth open. You approach your mother closer, and try yet again to touch. Just to see if she could feel your presence. You reach out to her, hopefully that you could feel her and her hair strands rise up into the air. She shifts tosses over in the bed; and you immediately let her strands go, afraid that you might awaken her.

I love you mom. I love you dad.

After leaving your parents room, you guide yourself downstairs and through the front door. Then, the world you see from your perspective is revealed. It’s quiet, cold. Everything just seems blue. And there are others like you. Ghosts, souls, spirits, or whatever you call them. They float through the night. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. It’s almost like another world.

Where am I? Is this where people go when they die? If so, what is “this” called?

Faint whispers echo around you. You can’t quite hear what is being said or who is saying it. Then a sudden voice from behind scares you.

“Hey.”

You’re startled to find a spirit within your path. She was beautiful, but she seemed young. Maybe just as you or younger.

“Hi?”

“My names Katie. And you?”

You continue to observe your surroundings, noticing you both are now the only ghosts in plain sight.

“My name is Y/N. Where exactly am I?”

She clears her throat, attempting to speak.

“Well, you’re in the Spirit World as we call it.”

Your eyes widen. Spirit World? Seriously, what the hell is going on?

“I don’t understand. Why am I here? I mean.. I know that I died, but.. why here? Why do I have to be here?”

She watches you in concern, gathering up the correct words to explain.

“Please, come with me. I will tell you as we float.”

Katie leads you on the way down the road of the town. She explains that souls wander Earth when they haven’t been rested. In your case, your soul was not rested because someone murdered you. She also made it clear that throughout time, you’ll find yourself shifting into different ambiences, usually replaying old memories or high peaks during your previous life; or sometimes shifting due to something deeper - such as a premonition. You also learned that she’s 18, just like you.

“Well, if that’s true then were you murdered?” You question her, curious to know as if any more information would make you grow more at ease.

“Yes, I actually was.” She whispers, barely audible.

“Do you also know who your killer is?” She grows silent. You almost take it as a sign that she wouldn’t answer you.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.” You plead, feeling a slight bit of guilt.

“It’s.. it’s okay. It was my mother that murdered me.”

Your jaw drops, and you immediately feel a thousand times worse for even asking.

“Katie.. I-I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how you feel. How long has it been?”

“18 years.”

You’re confused as you ask, “18 years? But you said you’re 18?”

“Oh, silly me. I also forgot to mention that in the Spirit World, you don’t age.”

It all makes sense now. Which brings you to yet another question.

“Well, how come you’re still here? I mean, after all those years. I’m sure that we don’t just die to be stuck in the world we once were in, right?”

“That is true, but from meeting others like us, I’ve learned that the reason why souls like mine end up trapped is because our killer is still alive. And in my case, my mother is still alive, even though she’s been captured for her crime many years ago.”

You both re-approach the street where your house sits next to Taehyung’s. Then, immediate thought hits you. What if he gets caught? Then what? I’ll still be stuck here? I don’t want to be here forever. I want peace. Everlasting peace. You attempt to probe Katie with more questions, but as soon as your mouth parts, all you can grasp is that your surroundings are swiftly changing, as if you’re slipping into a different atmosphere.

“Shit, Katie! Everything is changing! What do I do?”

“It’s okay. Remember? It’s totally normal! You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Everything around you dissipates, until there is absolutely nothing left. You watch as your home vanish piece by piece before your eyes. Your mouth flies agape, paired with that feeling of somber again. Your cries can’t be heard, as you helplessly reach out to the place you once called home. The one place you don’t want to leave. Everything you’ve ever felt and experienced was in that house. As the last remaining portion of your home dissolves, you immediately feel yourself being pulled down into a vacuum. It’s pitch black.

No air, no light, no humans, no spirits, just pure blackness. The feeling of a wet substance under you causes you to look down. Water? Your eyes trail up ahead of you, and you’re stunned to find Taehyung yet again. He looked as if he was in a rush. He removed his jacket, flannel, boots, and jeans.

Hurriedly throwing his belongings into the washer. He bends down to grab a box of baking soda, pouring copious amounts on his clothes, and slamming the washer door shut. The atmosphere ascends, slowly piecing itself together. A few blinks later and you realize that you’re in the basement of his home. He rushes up the stairs and slams the basement door shut, locking it. You continue to observe the area.

Your attention is caught by a small area behind you in the corner. You lightly float to the spot and pull the light metal beads that hang from the light which sits above you. The light flicks on, and you’re instantly taken away. It’s an entire wall of newspaper articles about The Silent Creeper and photos of numerous women that were reported missing and/or bodies have been found.

You scan through each report, only to find that all of them had things in common. They were stabbed to death, with patches of their hair missing. You also noticed for each photo he had of every victim, their wads of hair were attached to them.

Are these all of the women he’s killed? If so, then why? What possesses him to commit such horrid acts?

Then you noticed your photo, along with your hair attached to it. Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud from above.

Curious to know, you move up the stairs and through the basement door. You float through his home, searching for the source of the noise you heard. You make a slight left turn after passing the kitchen, and gently walk down the hall. You hear faint sounds coming from the room at the end of the hallway.

Ones that sounded like… moans.

The door slightly cracked, you peeked through the small space that granted you access to see. Taehyung plops onto his bed, and you’re startled when you see he’s furiously pumping his erect member.

“Ugh, Y/N.”

You stop dead in your tracks when he mentions your name. Are you kidding me? He kills me just a few minutes ago, and now he’s moaning my name while jacking off?! That’s it! I’ve had enough! That feeling of rage courses throughout your spirit, and you forcefully enter the room he’s in, before thinking of what you are doing.

Taehyung hears a slight creak from the door and feels a gush of wind washing through him. His eyes immediately snap open and he flinches. Goosebumps appear on his arms. He stares into the space where the door is and looks like he’s seen a ghost, literally. He notices that the door is open – more than what he originally positioned it.

Did the door just move on it’s own? He thinks to himself.

Oh shit, you thought. Can he see me?

He quickly pulls his white undergarment over his member, and slowly walks toward the door. You simply stand there, shocked at what just happened. He treads through you and peeks down the hallway. His deep voice resonates within the home.

“Hello?”

Nothing and no one responds.

“Is anyone there?”

Still no response. He takes this as a sign and steps back into the room, shutting the door behind him. He walks through you again and falls back onto the bed, removing his tight fitted briefs staring at the door. Cock springing free, he bends his arm in a “V” shape and rests it behind his head.

His fingers find his cock again and he pumps slowly. Pre-cum dripping from within his tip, creating a squelching noise as he continues to pump. You can’t help but feel uncomfortable watching your killer masturbate. But, you have to admit that he does look hot.

After all, he’s a guy. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive. Of course, you always thought he was. But, that’s besides the point. You shake your thoughts off, and focus on the real reason as to why you’re here. Which brings you to more questions…

Why am I here? What am I to do to him? If I couldn’t physically touch him, how could I ever hurt him? How am I supposed to kill him? Do I even want to kill him? I just want all of this to end already. I need answers, but most of all I need Seokjin. I have to find a way to get to him.

Maybe I could write a note or something. To tell him I miss him and love him, and that even though I’m gone, I will never forget him. But how could I do that? If no one can see me, feel me, or touch me, how could I ever say goodbye to Jin who was once my boyfriend?

“Ahh, baby. Fuuuck, cumming.”

You’re interrupted by the sounds of Taehyung moaning again. Your gaze trails over to him on the bed, pumping furiously as streams of white sperm gush from his throbbing member. He moans your name over and over again as if it were a chant. You’re disgusted and amused all at the same time.

You simply cannot comprehend how he could jack off after murdering someone. He’s seriously sick. If he just killed you, why would he moan your name as he orgasms? It just doesn’t make sense. You can’t take seeing anymore of him, as you’re convinced he’s mentally ill. No person with benevolence would do such a thing.

Let me out of here! I have to see my boyfriend. Please! I just need to see him.

Once again, the atmosphere deteriorated. Gradually shifting the ambience.

The world pieced itself together once again, and here you are standing in the gym entrance of your high school. The sound of music booming from inside, students standing in line waiting to enter the building, and roars emanating from cars entering the parking lot.

Prom night? But... why am I here?

You stand there dumbfounded. Then the sight of you and Jin walking with arms interlinked catches your attention.

You wouldn’t want to spend your prom night with anyone else other than your boyfriend Seokjin Kim. You were attired in a hot pink satin dress, with ruffles at the bottom and on the shoulders paired with the white corsage. Your hair was curled in the most bounciest way. Jin stood tall, wearing a black and white tuxedo along with a hot pink bow tie, rocking his signature dirty blonde mullet.

Before entering the schools gymnasium, you look back to find Taehyung’s stationwagon is still parked at the entrance. He waves you both off. Jin nudges your arm to get your attention.

“Babe, look!”

You both stare at how well everything came together. Admiring the streamers and disco balls hanging throughout the gym, the confetti scattered over the floor, and the heart pounding bass of Wham! playing.

“Woah, the school committee really did an amazing job!”

Jin spies the area where the photographer is taking photos of each couple in front of a backdrop.

“Hey, let’s go get our picture taken!” he pulls you along with him, almost making you tumble.

On the other side, Taehyung still stands in the same spot from when you last saw him. He takes a deep breath while making his way into the automobile, closing the door shut. He rests his head on the steering wheel.

If only I could have her instead of that douche bag of a boyfriend she has.

He sits there contemplating on his next move. What should he do? Should he stay here? Or should he leave then return an hour later? He needs to blow off some steam, and being here another second is not helping him at all. He slips the key in the ignition and pushes the gas pedal with his foot, taking off into the night.

After releasing his tension at home, he still felt like something was missing. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, and he needed so desperately for it to stop. And he needed it to stop now. He hopped back in his stationwagon to scout for his next victim. Several minutes later and he finds a ranch on a farm.

He parks his car, and reaches under the seat to grab his infamous knife. He exits the vehicle and pops the trunk to acquire a tire iron then hikes up the trail towards the home. It was a small home, and no lights were on. He assumed whoever was inside may have been asleep, noticing a car parked in the driveway.

Gripping the tire iron firmly, he makes his way toward the back of the home to find an entrance inside. To his luck, he finds a back door and smashes the lock with the tire iron, prying the door open. He quietly steps inside and just when he thinks he’s got things under control. An older female flicks the kitchen light on, startling Taehyung.

“Shit,” he drops the tire iron on the floor.

The woman lets out a piercing screech and rushes over to reach the rotary phone on the wall.

“Hey! Get back here!”

Ignoring his commands, she grasps the phone, yet it slips between her fingers as Taehyung races toward her and plunges her against the wall with his body, pulling her away from the phone and against him. He wraps his arms around her, holding her still.

“No! No, please don’t! No, I don’t want to die, please!” The woman sobs, as her fingers graze across Taehyung’s jacket.

“Now, now don’t worry. It’s okay. Shh, shhh..” Taehyung whispers, caressing her face as he slips his other hand into his pocket to obtain his clippers.

“Please don’t hurt me, I promise I won’t say anything!”

Taehyung chops a wad of the woman’s hair, taking in a quick sniff before stuffing it into his pocket along with the clippers. The woman gathers enough strength to kick Taehyung in the knee. He groans at the pain and releases his grasp around her.

“Ahhh, fuck! You bitch!”

He limps to the tire iron and lunges it toward the woman’s head, causing her to drop on the floor of the kitchen. She lies there with a small gash to the head, blood slowly streaming down her face.

Taehyung bends over to pick up the phone that was hanging on the ground. He kneels down to lift the woman up, wrapping the cord around her throat.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you off that easily.”

Despite her breathing, he pulls the cord tighter around her throat, attempting to strangle her to ensure she was dead. And out of nowhere a powerful spark emits from the cord and the woman’s eyes shoot open. Taehyung bounces up on his feet and stares in awe, the woman gradually awakens and coughs, using her arms to prop herself up on the floor.

She turns her gaze to him, getting one glance before he storms off into the night. He bolts down the trail, panting, and nearly out of breathe. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His plans never failed. His fingers shaking, he fumbles around in his jacket pocket to get the car keys so he can open the door.

Moments later, he’s speeding down the road, en route to the high school.

Someone had clearly spiked the punch, because after a few cups, you and Jin suddenly became hornier than usual. And after a few dances, it really set the mood. “Careless Whisper” started playing. It was your favorite song and he knew it.

“Come on Jinnie, dance with meeee.” You whined, pulling on his arm.

“Babe, I’ll be right back I promise okay? I have to pee really bad.”

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise.”

“Bring me back more punch!”

He smiles at you and blows a kiss, walking away to the boys restroom.

You couldn’t believe that you didn’t notice this that night. But Jin never went to the restroom. Your spirit follows him as he sneaks out of the gym door, and entered the hallway of the school. He kept looking back, to make sure no one was following or watching him.

At the end of the hall, he makes a left turn. And enters one of the classrooms, shutting the door behind him. It was Mr. Hopper’s chemistry class. What’s he doing in there? You’re startled when you peek through the window of the door. He was inside with another girl.

You float inside the room to find that he was making out with her. Oh my God! He cheated on me with Jessica Jefferson?! The rudest, blondest bitch of the school. She runs the clique with other mean bitches and they always torment freshman.

That familiar feeling of rage fills you. You’d been dating Jin since junior year. Everything was perfect. I mean, sure you both had arguments here and there. But you both were inseparable. You were convinced that you’d spend the rest of your life with him.

Is this why I’m here? To see that he cheated on me?

You decided to leave the classroom and check on your human self. You remembered sitting on the bleachers of the gym, waiting for your boyfriend to return. You also remembered seeing Taehyung through the door of the gym entrance. You waved at him at first, with a bright smile. But, he didn’t wave back. He simply stood there, eyeing you like a hawk.

It was such an uncomfortable feeling. You awkwardly look over to the students dancing, to try and break the eye contact. After a few beats, you look back to see if he’s still standing there but he wasn’t. Just like that, he was gone. Why was he watching you? More importantly, how long was he standing there watching you until you noticed? You never understood why. That is, until now.

"Boo!”

You screamed as your boyfriend startled you from your trance.

You shove him on his arm. “Asshole! Why would you do that?”

“I’m sorry, babe. Just thought it would be funny.” Your expression gives it away, as you continue looking at the door Taehyung was standing behind.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. Let’s just go.” You grab Seokjin’s hand.

“Hey, I know the perfect place.” You stare into his almond-shaped eyes, admiring the way they curl as he smiles.

You follow yourself as Jin drags you to the boys locker room.

Although, you’re still curious to know why you’re back at prom night, this day merely now a memory. You watch as the being that was once you, straddled Jin on the bench before the lockers. Your tongues dancing with each other.

He supports your back with his hands, running down to your waist. Your fingers tugging through the thick strands of his mullet, while your hips grind onto his erect member that hides underneath his suit. Gushes of arousal coat your panties.

“Mmm, babe. I’m so horny for you,” Jin moans.

He plants kisses along your jaw, your head falls back taking in the nostalgic feeling all awhile simultaneously laughing. The alcohol clearly in your system. You bring yourself up to whisper in his ear.

“Let me suck you off, baby.”

You stand up to give him room to remove his trousers and briefs in one go. His cock is rock hard, sprouting up and free. You bend over to drop a line of spit on his cock, using your hand to spread it all over his shaft. He hisses at the feeling of your warms hands massaging his member.

“You’re so hard, Jinnie.” You giggle as you let yourself down on your knees. You tease him, first giving his tip a few kitten licks before opening your mouth wide enough to fit his thick cock inside. You enclose your mouth around him, gaining another moan.

He watches you from above, teeth grazing against his bottom lip.

“Yes, Feels... so good.”

His hips buck, moving to the rhythm of your mouth. You use his thighs as leverage. Moans escape you as he continues his pace, sliding his lengthy cock against the soft texture of your tongue. Saliva trailing from your mouth onto his member, and back toward you sliding down your chin and neck.

Jin places his hand on the back of your head to push his cock further down your throat.

“Fuck.. Just like that. Don’t fucking stop.”

The gargling sound of your spit echoes throughout the room. The stretch your throat feels from his cock causes your eyes to water, making it difficult to keep them open.

“Look at me, babe.”

You follow his commands and look up at him. The sight of you stuffed full of him in your mouth along with watery eyes is nearly enough for him to climax all over your face. The burn in your lungs to breathe approaches. You graze your nails rapidly against his thighs hoping he would get the memo. Thankfully, he pulls out the way out.

You let go of his cock with the sound of a pop, taking a deep inhale to regain your breathing back. You look up at him while pumping his cock in your palm.

“Jinnie.. do you love me?”

His eyes widen at your question.

“Are you kidding? Of course I love you, baby. You’re my everything.” He wipes away the tear that falls from your eye, still gathering your breath together from the deepthroating session. With a lustful look in your eyes, you plead,

“Show me, then.” His lips curl into that gorgeous smile. He guides you up on your feet.

“Bend over,” he commands. You support your weight on the bench with your arms, doing as he tells you so. You feel your dress being lifted up. His fingers trace along the shape of your vulva, feeling the dampened material.

“How horny are you, baby?”

“Mmm so horny. Please just show me already.”

His fingers find the seam of your panties, pulling them all the way down until the drop to the floor. He licks to the pads of his fingers and rubs them along your folds.

“Wow, so wet. Just how I like it.”

Your pussy pulses, aching to feel his cock inside of you. A small groan leaves your lips.

“You want me baby?” He coos while brushing his soaked member across your drenched folds.

“Yes, please. Need your cock.”

His hand grips your waist while the other eases himself in you. The bulbous tip stretching your lips, causing you to whine. Your wet coats his cock as a lubricant as he pushes in further, making it easy to slip in all the way.

He uses his remaining hand to place on your waist and he completely bottoms you out.

“Fuck, Jinnie!”

“I love you, baby.” He pulls out of you completely and rams back all the way in, balls deep inside your pussy, making you buck forward and your mouth to fly open with a gasp.

“I love you too... Oh my gosh, so deep.”

Your arms reaches around to push him back, attempting to ease his pace, but he slams harder into you. You claw his thigh with your nails, in response. The pain of him pounding himself deep inside you, hitting your cervix combined with the pleasure of your walls being stimulated leaves you in a state of reverie.

“Mmm, I love your pussy and how tight you are around me. Wanna make you cum all over my cock, babe. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes! I can, baby.”

Jin picks up the pace, literally hammering into you. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass, mixed with your moans, ricochet off of the walls. He licks the pad of his fingers and reaches down to rub your clit in circles. Applying just the right amount of pleasure.

Your spirit continues to watch, remembering that prom night was not only the last time you’d saw your boyfriend but it was also the last time you both had sex with each other. You miss the way he felt inside of you. He filled every bit of you and never failed to please you in the most sensual way. He always made sure you orgasmed before him.

“Oh, Jinnie... I’m cumming, baby!”

“Yeah? Cum all over my cock, babe. There you go...” Your walls pulse rapidly around his length and your body trembles below him. The constant contractions of your kitty around Jin causes him to twitch inside of you.

“Oh, babe! Fuck..” His cock shoots streams of his warm jizz, coating your inner walls white. He holds himself inside, making sure to bury his seed deep within your core. Your legs still shaking, he holds you to support you up from your orgasm still washing over you as thick ropes of his cum oozes out of your pulsing core. He bends over to whisper.

“Do you believe me now?”

Funny that he asked me that in the moment. Because I actually believed him. I really loved him. And I thought he loved me too. So, why would he do this to me? He continued acting like nothing ever happened. He lied to me. He never went to get punch. Would he even care that I died? What am I supposed to feel like now?

That familiar feeling of rage returns again, and you storm out of the lockers room. This time, you decide to find your way to Taehyung. Maybe you can get an answer as to why he was staring at you.

You find him sitting in his stationwagon, in the parking lot of the school, frozen. A million questions run through his mind. He’s lost, and he knows he’s doomed for good. Gently floating inside, you sit in the passengers seat. His hands are nervously rubbing his thighs up and down. As if, he were afraid of something. Then you’re shocked to hear him speak.

“I have to kill her... but when? And how? What if I try and things don’t work out just like tonight. What will happen then? Was this a sign?”

His fingers trail through his mullet, and he keeps looking back.

“Fuck! I don’t know what to do. Don’t know what to do.”

He was talking about me? Wasn’t he?

“She’ll never accept me for who I am. I just want her. Want her so bad. Why can’t I just have her, God? Why?!”

Was he into me this whole time? Is that why he killed me? Because he somehow thought we could be together?

As time went on, you still roamed the Earth as a spirit. The sketch of The Silent Creeper had been released, and it wasn’t long until everyone figured out it was none other than Taehyung Kim. The town constantly tortured him. Kids threw eggs at his home windows, others threw rocks at his car, and some teenagers spray painted on his garage door:

MURDERER LIVES HERE

But you were there for him through it all. The night he’d found out that you were here all along, startled him. Even though it was part of his plan. There was a sense of pride that filled him, knowing that it had worked. But as the days came and went for some reason, you felt drawn to him. You thought at first maybe it was because of pity, but it was something that pulled you in closer. That made you more vulnerable. Maybe it was the sex? As the weeks went by, you both continued having sex with each other. You never thought it was even possible to have sex as a ghost, but here you are yet again.

“Oh fuck, baby.. yes! Just like that, Y/N. Don’t stop.” Taehyung moans as you continue to ride his cock. From his point of view, it literally looks like he’s fucking air. But his eyes are closed, as all he can imagine is your tits bouncing up and down, your head falling back with lips parted, relishing in the way his cock feels filling up your walls. He feels the warm, wet of your arousal clenching tight around him. He uses the palm of his hand to grip your hips, helping to guide you up and down on his cock.

He feels your walls suddenly escaping from him, and he frowns. Looking down at his throbbing, stiff member. Then a warm slick feeling encases his cock, and traces of saliva are visible. He throws his head back after realizing you’re sucking him off. His fingers reach out into the air, wanting to find where your hair is so that he can feel you. A small smirk appears on his face when his fingers are finally entangled in your mane.

It’s smooth, silky, and feels like Heaven between his fingers. He tightens his grip, pushing your head further down onto his cock. He watches as his member leaks of pre-cum, mixed with your arousal and saliva. The mixture streaming all the way down to his balls. He’s on the verge of cumming any moment now. He feels the texture of your tongue along the underside of his shaft, moving down to his testicles. Your nails gently grazing across his thighs, leaving behind a small trace of scratches.

His breathing hitches, as he feels himself near his orgasm. You hold his cock in your throat, swallowing him whole and you take this chance to hum. Your vocal cords vibrating around his cock. The sensation deep within the pit of his groin bursts. His eyebrows furrowing together at how intense his orgasm feels.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

The muscles of his pelvic area tenses up, his cum shooting into streams down your throat. He watches as it disappears into thin air. He knows you’ve swallowed his seed. He sighs of relief, completely satiated of his hungry desire for you. That is, for now. Chills run through him as he feels your lips pressing against his. His eyes naturally closing.

What feels like your hands gripping his arms, caressing his sides, makes him melt within your touch. He reaches his hand up, caressing what feels like your cheek. He doesn't want to stop kissing you. He’s waited for what felt like an eternity for this. In an instant, you pull away. Watching him as his eyes slowly open.

How have I come to fall in love with a murderer?

Taehyung’s confession on prom night had continued playing itself over in your thoughts. Leading up to now, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him ever since. After thinking of the first time when you visited him, and he saw the door open when no one was physically there, you contemplated visiting him again. It was the first time you both had sex, ever. Well more specifically with you as a ghost.

Just as before, he was in his room masturbating. This time he was fully naked and his door was opened wide. He was a lot more lanky than you thought, with a faintly visible six pack. His hand slithered up and down his shaft, and small moans escaped from him. You actually loved the sight of him getting off. It’s pretty hot.

You had taken the chance to show him you’re here, just as he always wanted. It was that day you learned Taehyung isn’t able to exactly see you, but he can feel you. As if you are actually there, in the spirit. Either way, the sex was like no other. He even told you that he was ready to die, just so that he could actually be with you. Not only to feel you, but to see you. Touch you physically. You being there as a ghost was like a hallucination for him, and he knew eventually he would grow tired of not being able to see your face as you writhe underneath him.

Your parents immediately moved out of state after finding out who The Silent Creeper really is. They were completely stunned. Before moving, your dad quit his job. On the contrary, your mother couldn't move on. After all, she was the one that found your body mutilated in your bedroom. It became so horrifying for her that her doctor ordered her off to a licensed therapist.

Things were bad. Really bad. Seokjin appeared at your funeral. After it was over, you followed him home. He was so full of rage that he completely tore down his entire room. Ripping off the wallpaper that once decorated his walls, cracking his vinyls in half that he had tucked away under his bed, until he came to a specific one. It was for “Careless Whisper” by George Michael.

He pops the vinyl into the record player, and sets himself on his bed as the songs begins.

“Should've known better than to cheat a friend And waste the chance that I'd been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you”

Tears stream down his cheeks, and he covers his face. His sobs can be heard throughout the room. You observe as his back rises up and down from his heavy crying. You wish that you could kiss him and slap him at the same time. You wish he never cheated on you, and you wish you never died. Maybe it would hurt less not knowing he did such a thing.

After sex with Taehyung, you decide to visit your home again, wanting to bathe in the memories there. But something has caught your attention. Just as you floated outside, four police cars were parked in the street in front of Taehyung’s home. They were all armed with their guns, aiming at the front door.

One officer had a megaphone, calling Taehyung out of his home.

“On the count of three, we ask that you please come out with your hands up in the air! Should you try to harm anyone, we will have no other choice but to open fire.”

You watch as Taehyung cracks the door open slowly and exits with his hands in the air. Then, he stops, quickly reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out his bowie knife. You’re shocked at the action, but he had been at the end of his ropes with everything. And just like that, the officers open fire.

Piercing his body with bullets, and one going straight though his forehead. His body grows limp, falling into his knees and the weapon drops to the ground. Taehyung falls face forward onto his lawn.

The environment shifts again, and you’re blinded by the color white. Holding your hands up to cover your eyes, trying to escape the brightness that causes your eyes to shut closed. Then the sudden sound of a deep voice captures your attention.

“Do you wish to repent your sins before me?”

Looking down, you carefully open your eyes and notice that you’re able to see yourself, your hands, skin, feet, toes, everything. Standing above you is the Almighty, a bright source of light that is still difficult for your eyes to adjust to.

I must have been sent to my judgment.

You hear numerous cries below you, noticing the Underworld below the clouds under your feet. Lightning flashes as several fallen angels snatch souls away, sweeping them into oblivion. You’re instantly distracted by another deep, baritone voice ahead of you. Not like the previous voice you’d heard. It was a voice you found to be familiar.

“Are you calling me a sinner?”

You can barely make out the figure, but realize that the being is suddenly caught by one of the Fallen that sprung into the air down below, flying away. You hear a faint call of your name in the distance. You look down below you and spy a familiar face. It was Taehyung.

“Y/N!” His hand reaching out toward you. A tear falls from your face watching him being pulled away from you.

The first voice you heard speaks again, directing His question to you this time.

“Do you wish to repent your sins before me?”

You turn your gaze toward the Almighty towering above you. Your eyes closed shut yet again from the light. You shake your head and slip with a slight confidence in your tone:

“No.”

a/n: aaaand that’s all everyone! can you guess what happened to Y/N after not repenting her sins? let me know in the comments! I’ve had this idea in mind for soooo long now & wanted to release it on Halloween but I’m a thousand days late pls forgive me. also pls forgive me if this is horribly edited ok it’s like 1 AM, oh & I’m wondering if I should write a sequel to this (promise it will be much more smutty smut & focus more on Y/N’s perspective) let me know in the comments if you’d like to read more! anyways, I hope you all had a fun and safe Halloween!

much love, 💜

#bts v #bts taehyung #v smut #taehyung smut #kim taehyung #bts jin #jin smut #bts oneshot #bts blog #magicshopnet #kpopwritersclub #bangtanlalaland #can't believe i actually wrote this #did i really just add a stigma reference in there #lmao #i need help

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typinggently · 5 years

Note

Napollya, 7) a theater at midnight, golden jewelry, a whispered secret :-) :-) :-)

Weimar Republic AU (still spies though!)

To make it short, Illya is uncomfortable.

Theatres in general aren’t his scene, and especially not these kinds of theatres. There are rows of plush seats on which couples entwine themselves, melting into the darkness. On stage, women are getting progressively more naked. When the next group of dancers comes, a row of gleaming, short black hair and white chests, red-pink nipples, Illya looks to his right. A man is licking into the dip of his date’s collar bones. She gives him a wink.

“Enjoying the show?”

Illya startles and turns his head to the left. A stranger has taken the seat next to his, grinning at him. Blue-green paisley tie. Illya frowns a little. “You’re late.”

“Thought you’d appreciate it. Or did you miss me?” The man gives him a wink and Illya, truly sick of being winked at, shakes his head. “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”

The stranger has dark hair, gleaming in the dim light, and startling eyes. Blue, with a splatter of brown. Illya blinks.

The stranger leans in closer, both arms resting on the armrest between them. “Did you, though?”

“What?” Illya frowns, wants to pull back and bring a little distance between them, but the stranger reaches out. His hand is warm on Illya’s knee. Startling.

“Miss me. Were you lonely?” He has very bright teeth and a suspiciously sharp smile. His grip on Illya’s thigh tightens.

“What are you doing?” Illya leans in to hiss at him and tenses his thigh, hoping the man will pull back.

“Giving us a reason to disappear into the backrooms.”

Illya frowns and tries to pull back himself. The stranger smells like heat and tobacco. Some woody hair wax. He’s slipping his palm up Illya’s thigh, squeezing gently.

“How do I know you’re not setting me up?” It’s a stupid question, but Illya is getting desperate. Heat and Pine and Tobacco. “This is illegal.”

The stranger laughs, Illya can see his broad shoulders shake out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, you’re cute. So paranoid. Here, I’ll tell you a secret, will that help?”

“A secret?” Illya frowns. He doesn’t want a secret. He wants to be able to think clearly, without the scent of the man seeping into the folds of his brain.

“Yes. But lean in a little please, I’m hurting my neck doing all the work.” With that, the stranger pulls back a little, forcing Illya to lean in if he wants to keep the conversation going. Which, well. He has to. In the dim light, the stranger’s teeth flash as he grins. “See? Good boy. Now –“

Before Illya can react, there’s a hand fisted in his collar and the man is close again, closer than before, his lips brushing Illya’s ear. “Your name is Redacted Kuryakin, mine is Napoleon Solo. I’m here for the documents in the locket around your throat, but if you’re good and come back to the private rooms with me, I’ll suck you off.”

The hot whisper burns through Illya. He tenses, grip on his own thigh tightening, and heat rises in his cheeks.

The stranger – Napoleon Solo – pulls back a little, raises a brow at him. “You trust me now?”

“I –“ Illya has to pause, sort through grammar and punctuation. “Was that necessary?” He hisses, but makes to get up.

Napoleon is on his feet faster and offers him his hand, pulls him up. “Well. You looked so tense, no one would’ve believed us. And now look at you.” He doesn’t let go of Illya’s hand and does just that – standing in midst of the rows of the theatre, ignoring the people murmuring and calling behind him, looking at Illya with his blue-sparkling eyes. “Beautifully flushed.”

Illya huffs, cheeks hotter than before. He’s had enough of this man’s teasing. So he pushes at Napoleon’s shoulders, forcing him to stumble through the rows of plush seats, sidestepping tangled legs of entwined couples.

The backroom is dimly lit, the tinted lampshade bathing everything in rosy red, softening the sharp lines of Napoleon’s suit and deepening the pink of his mouth. There is a plush sofa on which Napoleon is currently sitting, not much else. The air is hot with the scent of perfume and sex.

Illya watches Napoleon close the fastener of the golden locket and slip it under his shirt collar. It would be warm, still, after resting against Illya’s heart for so long. He tries not to think about it.

“So that’s that.” Napoleon gets up, brushes imaginary dust off his trousers. “Job done. Lovely making business with you, Redacted Kuryakin.”

He passes him on the way to the door, but Illya grabs his elbow, almost subconsciously. “Yes?” Big, sparkly eyes, soft-pink mouth.

“It’s Illya.”

Napoleon raises a brow at him. He didn’t button his collar all the way and Illya can see the dip of his throat. The flash of a hot tongue a wink. “Illya Kuryakin.”

At that, Napoleon smiles again. Full force, glittering teeth. “Oh, thank fuck. You damn Ice Queen. Can I suck you off, then?”

Illya doesn’t say no.

Ha! Illya is actually alive and doing stuff! I AM branching out! (Although I WAS tempted to make him some sort of jewellery just for continuity). Also yes this was 10000% inspired by me getting super into Babylon Babylon again, out of NOWHERE.

Thank you so so much for this, I had a great time indulging my love for BBerlin haha :’) And I hope you liked it!!!

Here be the prompts

#napollya #drabble #illeon #morningstar1399

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historyrepeatsitself-phff · 7 years

Text

Chapter Seventy-Three

A/N: I know it’s a few days early, but I’ve actually only just written this chapter and I wanted to share it with you guys now so that we can get to Baby Clarence’s arrival sooner. Please enjoy and let me know what you think 💖

14TH NOVEMBER – Day before Due Date

The day after Remembrance Sunday, Emmy awoke without nerves running through her veins, for once. She laid in bed, stretching out and sighing, trying to get comfy. Harry was already up, getting ready for his visit to the Chelsea Pensioners, and so the bed was huge and empty. She stared up at the ceiling, looking forward to her day ahead. She would be on her own for most of it, so she was planning to get ahead on housework, to watch the last few episodes of Season 5 of The Walking Dead, and to also get some little exercises done. She’d been starting her mornings with some stretches and whatever yoga she could manage in the little time they’d had the last week, and today she was eager to finally finish her wake up routine.

She might even have a bath.

She didn’t need to go out of the house, mainly because – with the due date so close – Harry didn’t want to risk her going into labour in the middle of a supermarket, and so he would be going to Sainsbury’s on his way home from the engagement. Basically, Emmy wouldn’t be leaving the house until this baby was out of her. And, if the doctors were right, then she had only one more day to wait.

“Remember,” Harry said an hour later, when he was on his way out and Emmy was munching some toast in the kitchen. “Keep your phone on you at all times.”

“I know, I know,” she said gently, smiling.

“I can’t bear the thought of you going into labour here on your own and not being able to contact me,” he said. “And Claire. You need to phone Claire, she’s just over in the Palace, she’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“Harry, I know,” Emmy said. “We’ve gone over this so much.”

“I know, I just…” He sighed, then took a deep breath and smiled. “I’m so excited, I want it to go perfectly.”

“It will,” she replied, reaching up to cup his furry cheek and pull him down for a kiss. “I read that most babies aren’t even born on their due date.”

“Yeah, I expect most come a day early, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow and grinning. “You’re not filling me with confidence.”

“Just go before you talk yourself out of it,” Emmy said, laughing. “I’ll be here when you get back. And she’ll still be inside me, too.”

He chuckled, crouching down so he was level with her bump. “Hey, baby, don’t come rushing out, okay? Take your time, little one.” He kissed her belly button through her pyjama top, then straightened up and kissed Emmy’s lips. “Be careful, okay?”

“Harry, if you knew the day I have planned ahead you’d know that I’m going to be fine.”

“I love you,” he said, kissing her once more. “Both of you.”

Emmy smiled, her heart fluttering, and then she watched him as he shut the front door behind him and crossed the gardens towards the palace. She sighed; and now she was alone.

She had to admit, she was quite nervous that the baby would come when she was all on her own, but she prayed that her little girl would wait at least until Daddy came home before she made an appearance.

Emmy finished her piece of toast before heading into the lounge to do some of her easy stretches.

15th November – Due Date

“Today’s the day,” Harry said excitedly, as he made himself and Emmy some cereal on Tuesday morning.

Emmy smiled at him; she felt quite sick, mainly from the nerves. “You know, most babies don’t even arrive on their due date.”

“But some do,” he replied, grinning. “Just think, Em. This time tomorrow we might have a little baby!”

She couldn’t help but melt at the excitement on his face. “We might do. Or we might be sat here, saying the exact same thing as we are now.”

He chuckled. “Touché. Are you going to be alright without me today?”

“Do you have to go to work today?” She reached across the island and entangled her fingers with his, pouting slightly at him. She saw his resolve shatter at her expression, and he looked pained as he nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been so busy with remembrance week that I’ve barely been back to the ministry. I’ve got a meeting with some psychologists to see what they’re opinions are on the new rehabilitation scheme.”

Emmy nodded sadly. She was forever proud of how much effort and attention he put into his work, but today she really wished he could stay home. She knew that it was very normal – as the father only receives two weeks of paternity leave, it is usual for him to work up until the baby is born and only then take time off, so that all of it can be spent with his new baby. Although Harry’s job was hardly normal, and he knew he’d have lots of time after the baby was born as his workload had been lightened, he wanted to do things by the book.

But Emmy was scared that she would go into labour while he was away, and the thought of dealing with not only the pain but also the fear and the stress all on her own was terrifying.

It was funny how one whole day could make so much difference. Only yesterday her and Harry’s roles had been reversed.

“You said it yourself,” he said lightly, grinning. “Babies are rarely born on their due date.”

“Yeah,” Emmy said, fighting a smile as he quoted her. “I’m just…going to miss you.”

He kissed her deeply before he left, and Emmy moved into the living room to do her usual stretches. She could only manage a few, her bump so heavy and uncomfortable, and although she didn’t want to go into labour on her own, she was desperate for the little baby to be out of her.

That desperation was only growing by the end of the day when, to Harry’s relief and Emmy’s impatience, she was still very much pregnant by the time Harry returned home.

“I’m sure she’ll be out tomorrow,” Harry reassured her, when they went to bed. Emmy was tired out, and she laid on her back, staring at her enormous bump, running her hand over it.

“Let’s hope,” she said, somewhat bitterly. She was tired of being pregnant now.

“She must just really like living in you,” he said, his voice soft as he pulled her into his arms – awkwardly, for she was very large and was also not in the mood for cuddles. “You’ve made a nice home for her.”

“Maybe she’s just lazy,” Emmy said grumpily.

Harry fought a laugh – he was in no position to laugh at her words, he had no idea what she was going through. But if he could carry the baby instead of her, he 10000% would’ve.

“Let’s try and get some rest,” Harry said soothingly, tracing her arm with his fingertips. “Maybe tomorrow will be her birthday, huh?”

“Hmm,” Emmy said, letting his cheerfulness eat away at her irritation, and she vowed not to let her discomfort put her in a bad mood the following day.

16th November – One day after Due Date

It did put her in a bad mood. Harry hastily left her that morning after she snapped at him for not getting her any cereal – he had an engagement and had to leave early anyway, and then she scowled at the TV for most of the morning, annoyed by the news and then by Loose Women and then by Friends when that came on. She sighed, laying down on the sofa and willing the pain to go away. Her back ached from supporting the weight, her legs ached too, her head hurt from fatigue as she’d barely got any sleep last night, unable to get comfy, and she felt as though her bladder was constantly full. It didn’t help that she was so thirsty, she kept drinking water, only to pee it out every five minutes.

To her surprise, Taylor arrived just after lunchtime. She smiled widely at her best friend.

“Hello!” she said, dancing into the house with some bags. “I’ve brought food! And some magazines for you to read, please don’t yell at me!”

Emmy sighed; so Harry had told her that she’d been in a bad mood that morning. She cursed him, but swallowed a bitter retort. She didn’t need people talking about her behind her back, but she also didn’t want another argument that day. She was too tired for it.

“Come in,” Emmy said, rubbing her cheek as Taylor moved into the kitchen and set the bags down on the counter.

“I come bringing good news, you know,” Taylor added, flashing her a huge grin before pulling out a newspaper and waving it under Emmy’s nose. Emmy frowned, trying to grab it, but Taylor pulled it out of her reach playfully, before giggling and brandishing it again. Emmy growled and snatched it.

“I know you mean well,” Emmy said. “But don’t piss me off, please.”

“Hmm, I heard you’re a little grumpy today.”

“I don’t appreciate Harry bitching about me to you,” she replied, glaring at her best friend.

Taylor looked apologetic. “He wasn’t bitching, you know. He was worried. He told me how uncomfortable you are, that you barely slept last night. He asked me to come and keep you company. He’s also super worried that your little baby will arrive when you’re on your own.”

“He wouldn’t have to worry if he just stayed home,” Emmy said. “He insists on going in to work! Just stay here. With me.” She trailed off, realizing how whingy she sounded, and felt a blush tainting her cheeks. Taylor didn’t notice.

“Have a look at the paper,” she said eagerly.

“What have they written about me this time?” Emmy mumbled, glancing at the picture of her from Remembrance Sunday a few days earlier on the front and forcing herself not to read the rest – anytime she’d made the front page since the wedding it had nearly always been for useless gossip, if not to focus on her outfit or her baby bump. All of her charity work was widely ignored in the Daily Mail.

“Trust me, it’s okay,” Taylor insisted, taking some crisps into the living room. “You’ll like it, it should make you feel better.”

Emmy finally cast her eyes down to the picture of her. Over the top of it, the headline read Emmy has impressive busy week as the world waits for Baby Clarence. If the word ‘impressive’ hadn’t been in there, Emmy wouldn’t have bothered reading the rest, but that word intrigued her, and so she flipped to the page with the story on it and read, and as she took the article in, she felt her heart lifting with joy. The article relayed how much work she’d been doing, not only in this last week, but throughout the entire pregnancy, and it highlighted just how many engagements had been to good, honourable charities and causes, some of them were highlighted. They commended her for not taking all the limelight with overpriced outfits, they praised her for not being scared to run over schedule to keep talking to people, and they congratulated her on an amazing nine months while speculating what might be to come for the Duchess in the future, including other charities she may visit. They even said that the Duchess of Cambridge should take a leaf out of her book!

When Emmy finished reading, she looked up with tears in her eyes. Taylor looked dismayed.

“Oh shit, what?!” she blurted, jumping to her feet. “Was there something in there that I missed?! I thought it was all nice stuff!”

“It is,” Emmy said, sniffling. “Oh, Tay, they were so nice about me!”

Taylor broke into a relieved smile, then said, “You mean, they actually spoke the truth for once.”

“They actually like me!”

“They do, it’s funny how the Daily Mail has changed its tune since the tour of India,” Taylor said. “But it’s about time they started giving you credit for being amazing.”

Emmy nibbled on her bottom lip at the last line of the article. “Kate isn’t going to like that they said that.”

“Maybe it’ll encourage her to do more herself?” Taylor suggested. “She’s going to have to go out and show her face a bit while you’re looking after your little one, anyway.”

“Hmm,” Emmy said. She couldn’t really imagine staying at home all the time, even with a little baby, she hoped she and Harry would take it in turns to stay and look after the baby. She looked back at the article, and couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you for bringing me this.”

“You’re welcome, I thought you’d like it,” Taylor replied. “Skippy actually told me about it, someone at his work was reading it, he told me to get it for you.”

“Skippy?” Emmy said, collapsing onto the sofa and sighing, then she raised an eyebrow. “You and Skippy are pretty good friends, huh?”

Taylor rolled her eyes, but a blush tainted her cheeks. “Don’t start getting ideas. Yes, we’re good friends. We see each other a lot.”

“A lot, huh?” Emmy said, smirking.

“I see you’re feeling much better now,” Taylor said, scowling as her blush deepened. “What time is Harry getting home, I don’t know how long I can put up with you.”

Emmy giggled. “I’m sorry, I’m only teasing. But you guys do spend a lot of time together…” She trailed off, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Stop it!”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve been single for a while now and I know how much you hate being single, I was just wondering whether that was because you’d finally found someone you really wanted to be with.”

“I’m single because thanks to your wedding I’m too famous to just go out with any random guy, let alone go home with one,” she replied, pouting. “And now you think I fancy Skippy.”

“You two are cute together,” Emmy said, shrugging, then she grinned mischievously. “I ship you, remember that? When you taught me the meaning of the word?”

Taylor laughed. “And you said you shipped ‘Bemmy’ because that was back when you and Harry weren’t a thing.”

Emmy chuckled lightly, casting her mind back to before the wedding, before her and Harry were a thing. She did kind of miss it, their innocent teasing, their playfulness, Harry’s brotherly protectiveness. But still – she wouldn’t give up what she had for the world.

“How are you and Harry?” Taylor asked. “Aside from when you’re biting his head off for not making you breakfast, of course.”

Emmy bit her lip, embarrassed. “He told you about that?”

“Mm-hmm, he was upset by it,” she answered. “Everything he does, he does for you, you know that? The only problem is that he also has to do stuff for the royal family and the country, too. But you’re still his number one.”

“Not for much longer,” Emmy said, dropping her gaze to her bump and rubbing it gently. She realized that the thought of Harry putting everything into their little daughter really didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. She couldn’t wait to see Harry and her little girl together. “He’s going to be the perfect dad.”

“I’m sure he already is,” Taylor said. “How you feeling about the birth?”

“I’m terrified, but I’m trying not to think about it,” Emmy said. “Which I would be doing all day if you weren’t here right now, so thank you for coming and keeping me company.”

“Any time.” She smiled. “I don’t see nearly as much of you as I would like anymore.”

“You know how it is,” Emmy replied, sighing. “How’s Chris?”

She’d barely seen her friend since everything had happened with Kian, and last she heard he was planning on moving back to where his parents lived – the city life was getting too much for him.

“He’s still wanting to move home,” Taylor said. “I’m planning on getting one of our friends from Marlborough to come and live with me. You remember Christie, right?”

“Christie Gray?” Emmy asked. “Sure, I haven’t seen her in years.”

“We met up a few times, well she’s just split up from her fiancé and she wants to move out, hopefully she’ll be coming to live with me.”

“Oh good,” she said, wondering what kind of precautions would have to be taken upon letting Christie back into her life. “I never really see Chris that much anymore, is he okay?”

“He has major trust issues now,” Taylor said. “Everytime someone talks to him in a bar now he just blanks them, he’s sure they’re trying to use him to get to you.”

Her heart broke at that, and she tried to force the thought from her mind. “That’s awful.”

“Hmm, that’s why he’s going home, where no one will know who he is, apparently,” Taylor explained. “I think he just doesn’t want to risk running into Kian again.”

“I don’t blame him,” Emmy said. Even though it had been two months since the rat had been discovered and Kian had been forced to leave them alone, she still felt the repercussions of his actions, the memories of the despair and the suspiciousness that had come with knowing someone was leaking their secrets. She would never forget how she’d felt, thinking that Taylor or Chris had sold her out.

Taylor appeared to have gotten over it rapidly, but Emmy still suspected she was wary of upsetting her again.

Emmy was so grateful for Taylor being there that day – she made the time fly by, she took Emmy’s mind off the imminent, scary birth and she even helped Emmy prepare the dinner ready for Harry’s return. Emmy was frying chicken while Taylor cooked some broccoli when Harry’s arrival sounded from the hallway.

“Em?” he called out, and the front door closed. “Everything okay?”

“In the kitchen,” she replied, breaking into a smile as he appeared in the doorway. He looked relieved at the sight of her.

“Thank god, you’re still here,” he breathed, crossing the room and pulling her into a hug. She giggled. “I was worried about you all day.”

“You really think I wouldn’t call?” she said lightly, perching on her tip-toes to kiss him in greeting. He was smiling broadly at her, delighted to find her in a better mood than when he’d left.

“I don’t know, maybe to spite me for not making you breakfast?” he teased, rubbing her bump before moving away to undo his tie and slip out of his blazer.

She blushed, ducking her head and smiling sheepishly. “I am sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, you have more than enough reason to be snappy,” he replied, grinning. Then his expression softened into concern. “You didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”

“It’s just really difficult to get comfortable,” she said, shrugging.

“How was your day?” he asked. “Did you two have fun?”

Taylor looked over at Emmy. “Tell him about the article.”

“Oh yeah!” Emmy’s face lit up with delight, and she moved as fast as her pregnant stomach would let her into the next room. Harry, intrigued by her happiness at what sounded like a newspaper article, followed. “Look at this! Look at this!”

She watched excitedly as Harry read the article, a proud smile dawning on his face, and when he’d finished he grinned at her. “Wow, this is amazing!”

“It’s so nice, isn’t it?!” Emmy said, almost squealing with excitement. “It was so unexpected! Taylor brought it round for me to read, and I was like woah!.” She giggled, and he couldn’t help but laugh with her. “They were nice to me.”

“You sure as hell deserve it,” he replied. “I mean, they’re only stating facts.”

She smiled, taking his hand and leading him back into the kitchen. “Sit down, you’ve probably had a long day.”

“No, Em, let me,” he said, trying to move her hands away from the chicken.

“You’ve been to work!”

“But you’re pregnant,” he insisted, grinning at her and trying to move her wide waist aside. “Let me. Taylor, are you eating with us?”

“No, I’ll love you and leave you now that you’re home,” Taylor answered. “Just keeping Emmy company in case the little one decided to make an appearance while Daddy was at work.” She smirked at him.

“Please don’t ever call me ‘Daddy’ again, Taylor.”

Emmy giggled lightly. “Am I the only one allowed to call you that?”

He leant over the island and, against her lips, he murmured, “You can call me whatever you like, babe.”

“Woah, that sounds like my cue to go,” Taylor said, grinning at them both as she washed her hands. “Now, if I don’t see you, good luck! Let me know if anything happens! I want to meet the little one too, okay?”

Emmy smiled, but she felt oddly nervous now she was saying goodbye to her best friend. What if the next time she saw her she had a baby?! “Bye Taylor.”

“I hope that this time tomorrow your daughter’s arrived,” Taylor said.

Harry barked a laugh. “Trust me, so do we.”

17th November – Two days after Due Date

She hadn’t. The following day Emmy spent on her own, doing some ironing and reading some more of her newest book. She tried to do the housework, but it tired her out so much she gave up. Her and Harry had salad that night because she was too exhausted to stand preparing dinner for too long.

18th November – Three days after Due Date

“I know exactly how you feel,” Kate said. “This little one was four days late.” She bounced Charlotte up and down on her knee, and Charlotte giggled.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Emmy mused. “I just want her out now.”

“Not long now,” Kate said. “If she’s any longer they’ll consider inducing her.”

“Oh, I don’t want that,” Emmy said, shuddering. “That sounds painful and unnatural.”

“You may get to the point where you just can’t take it any longer,” Kate said sadly. “My friend had to be induced. It did make it easier, at least.”

“Hmm.” Emmy hoped she wouldn’t get to that point. Her baby was still only three days late. That was normal, right? “Where’s George?”

“He’s at nursery,” Kate said. “They’ve started making Christmas decorations now, he’s been bringing home so much glitter. It’s in his hair every day, I truly don’t understand how he manages it.” She laughed softly. “I bet you’re not even thinking about Christmas, are you?”

“I totally forgot it was a thing,” Emmy admitted. “I should probably have done my Christmas shopping before she arrived. Oh well, too late now.”

“Just get Harry to do it,” Kate said, with a laugh.

“Oh god, Kate did you actually want to get a gift this year?”

The two ladies laughed together, and Charlotte joined in. “Is Harry at work today?” Kate asked.

“Yeah, he’s going in to help with the rehabilitation scheme right up until I’m in labour,” Emmy said, with a little roll of her eyes. “He’s doing things the normal way, apparently.”

Kate smiled. “I hope to God you don’t go into labour while he’s not here.”

“Hmm, that’s my biggest fear too,” Emmy said. “But this little one doesn’t seem to be wanting to come out of me anytime soon, so…”

“She’ll be here before you know it, I’m sure.”

19th November – Four days after due date

Harry was off today, and he and Emmy spent the day curled up on the sofa mainly. It was so nice to have him there with her – the stress of worrying what would happen if she went into labour on her own was gone, and he was forever helping her get to her feet whenever she needed to go to the bathroom. He did some of the housework around her, hoovering under her feet and making it suck on her hair, causing her to giggle and bat at him. And then they curled up again to watch Mean Girls, one of their old favourites.

Harry made dinner that evening, and Emmy came to sit in the kitchen as he cooked it, watching him flit about the room, doing everything.

“If you need me to do anything, just say,” she said apprehensively.

“Just sit there a look pretty,” he replied, then paused and looked over at her, before grinning. “Well done.”

She fought a smile. “Smells delicious.”

“It’s an old favourite,” he said. “And also, I’ve seen Friends. I know that spicy food is meant to make the baby arrive.”

“Spicy?” Emmy said, raising an eyebrow. “How spicy?”

“Moderately,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought a smirk.

“Ugh, Harry!” she complained. “You know I can’t eat super spicy food! You might have burnt all your tastebuds off but mine are still in tact!”

“It’s fine, it’ll be fine, I’ll put extra cream in if it’s too hot!” he said, then chuckled at her expression. “I’m sorry, I just forget how much of a weakling you are.”

She huffed with mock annoyance, but before she could continue the teasing, a sudden pain shot through her abdomen, growing slightly, before passing. She stopped, frozen. Was that a contraction?!

She pretended nothing had happened, although her heart had accelerate in panic. She watched Harry continuing to prepare the dinner, wondering whether she should tell him. No, she’d wait and see if it happened again.

About five minutes later, she had another contraction. This one was sharper, the pain more like the books had described, and she gasped out in surprise, in hurt.

Harry spun round, eyes wide, panic written across his face. “Emmy? You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling reassuringly at him once the pain had passed. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I just…I think I just had a contraction.”

Harry went into soldier mode immediately. Almost as though following orders, he started switching off the stove, showing food into the bin, running around rinsing things, before he hurried over and paused in front of her. She’d had another mild contraction while she’d been sat there and he’d been panicking.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure they’re contractions,” she said. “Help me up, I need to go to the toilet before we leave.”

Her forearms wrapped round his as he helped her to her feet, and then, as she straightened up, the sound of something dripping made them both look down. A wet patch was spreading across her leggings. Her waters had broken.

“Shit!” Harry gasped, panic flickering on his face. “Oh my god Emmy!”

“Oh my god, okay, okay!” she said, trying to take deep breaths. “Oh my god!”

“Stay here, I’ll go get the bag!” he blurted, then shouted back as he ran upstairs, “Phone Claire! And Rick!”

Harry returned a few minutes later, out of breath, his cheeks red, his eyes exhilarated. He paused to take her in, and she smiled nervously. “You okay?”

She managed a nod, swallowing. “Harry, we’re having a baby!”

He laughed with her at her excitement, squeezing her hands and leaning forward to kiss her. Her blue eyes, although clouded with fear, were shining with anticipation, with disbelief.

Rick arrived at the door then, ready to help them to across the lawn to the car.

“You know, Emmy,” Harry said, as the three of them left the house, his arm wrapped securely round his wife. “If you didn’t want to eat my curry, you should’ve just said.”

#historyrepeatsitself-phff #Prince Harry #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction

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