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missarchive · 14 days ago

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hardcover hearts - spencer reid

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

who? bookstore owner spencer reid x fem!reader

category: fluff, smut, awkward hopeless romantic!spencer

content warnings: NSFW MDNI!! loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, sub!spencer, dom!reader, fade to black smut

word count: 4.5k

a/n: finally clearing out my drafts! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

You’re not sure when it started. Maybe it was the first time you walked into the little bookstore tucked into a quiet corner of the city. Or perhaps it was the second time, where you lingered just long enough to notice the awkwardly endearing owner behind the counter, his messy hair and kind smile hard to miss. Whatever it was, you found yourself coming back every Friday, drawn to both the books and the man who sold them.

The owner, Spencer Reid, seemed as much a part of the bookstore as the shelves themselves. It was his dream come to life–a cozy haven filled with the stories he loved. And, while he wasn't exactly outgoing, there was something charming about the way he awkwardly pushed his glasses up on the days he wore them, or rambled when you asked for a recommendation.

Today was no different. Or, at least, it didn't start out that way.

You stepped into the shop, the bell above the door chiming softly. Spencer was behind the counter, organising a stack of novels. When he looked up and saw you, his eyes widened slightly, and he nearly dropped the books in his hands.

“Hi, Spencer,” you greeted, offering him a warm smile.

“H-Hi,” he stammered, fumbling to adjust his glasses. “Good to see you. Uh, new arrivals are on the table by the window, if you’re interested.”

“Perfect,” you replied, heading toward the display.

As you browsed, you felt his gaze on you now and then, though he quickly looked away whenever you glanced in his direction. It was cute, how shy he was. You spent some time scanning the shelves, fingers grazing the spines of books, before finally making your selection and heading back to the counter.

When you placed the book in front of him, you couldn’t help but notice his reaction. Spencer’s face turned bright red as he glanced down at the title—a spicy romance novel with a sultry cover that left little to the imagination.

“This one caught my eye,” you said, trying to sound casual but secretly amused by his flustered expression.

“O-Oh,” he stammered, fumbling with the scanner. “That’s, uh, a good choice. I mean, it’s very… popular.”

“You’ve read it?” you teased, watching as his blush deepened.

“What? No!” he blurted, then immediately winced at his own outburst. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with reading it. It’s just not, uh, my usual genre.”

You laughed softly, enjoying how endearing he was. “It’s okay, Spencer. I’m sure it’ll be a… fun read.”

He nodded wordlessly, scanning the book and placing it carefully in a bag as if it were fragile. When he handed it to you, his fingers brushed yours, and you felt a small spark that made your stomach flutter.

“Thanks,” you said, lingering just a moment longer. “See you next week?”

“Y-Yeah. See you next week,” he replied, his voice barely audible.

As you walked out the door, you glanced back to see him sitting down behind the counter, his face buried in his hands. You couldn’t help but smile, wondering if he’d ever work up the courage to say more. Until then, you’d keep coming back, hoping that one day he might make the first move. After all, you had plenty of time—and plenty of books to read.

Friday had rolled around again, and as usual, you found yourself eagerly stepping into Spencer’s bookstore. The familiar chime of the bell felt like a call to a place that was quickly becoming your favorite corner of the world.

Spencer was at the counter, as always, fiddling with a stack of receipts. His cardigan today was navy blue, and his hair had that perpetually tousled look that you were starting to associate with him. When he noticed you, his eyes widened slightly, and his hands froze mid-motion.

“H-Hi,” he greeted, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual.

“Hi, Spencer,” you replied, giving him a warm smile. “How’s it going?”

“It’s, um, good. Quiet morning,” he said, quickly adjusting his glasses, though they didn’t look even remotely out of place. “And you? Finding anything interesting?”

“Not yet,” you said, heading to the shelves. “But I’m sure I will.”

You browsed for a bit, your fingers tracing over the spines of books. You could feel Spencer’s gaze flitting toward you every so often, though he tried to look busy whenever you turned around. Finally, you selected a new title—a romantic suspense novel with a rather provocative cover.

When you placed it on the counter, Spencer’s reaction was immediate. His face turned an unmistakable shade of red, and his mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. He stared at the book for a moment too long before fumbling with the scanner.

“This one looks fun,” you said casually, watching his expression closely.

“F-Fun,” he repeated, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s… popular. A lot of people seem to, um, enjoy it.”

You bit back a grin as he carefully bagged the book, avoiding your gaze entirely. But instead of handing it over right away, Spencer hesitated. His fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the bag, and his brow furrowed as if he were wrestling with something internally.

“Is everything okay?” you asked gently.

He glanced up at you, his eyes wide and nervous. “I—I need to ask you something. Or, um, say something. If that’s okay.”

“Of course,” you said, curiosity piqued.

Spencer set the bag down and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a telltale sign of his nervousness. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before finally speaking.

“I—uh, I can’t stop thinking about the books you’ve been buying,” he blurted, his words rushing out in a tumble. “Not in a bad way! It’s just—they’re very… romantic. And… intimate. And I guess I just started wondering if—if you read them because you like the stories, or because…”

His voice trailed off, and he looked absolutely mortified. You tilted your head, letting him flounder for a moment before gently prompting, “Because…?”

“Because I don’t know anything about that stuff!” he admitted, his cheeks blazing. “I mean, I’ve read about it, obviously—academically. But I’ve never… I’m not exactly… experienced. And it made me realize how, um, unprepared I’d be if—if someone ever expected me to…”

He cut himself off, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my God. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. Please forget I said that.”

Your heart softened at his vulnerable confession. Slowly, you reached out and touched his hand, coaxing him to look up.

“Spencer,” you said gently, your tone free of judgment. “It’s okay. Really.”

He peeked at you through his fingers, his expression equal parts mortified and hopeful. “It is?”

“Yes,” you assured him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s actually kind of… sweet that you’re so honest about it. Most people wouldn’t admit something like that.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, lowering his hands. “I just… I didn’t want you to think I’m avoiding the topic because I’m, uh, judging you or anything. It’s the opposite, actually. I think you’re…”

He stopped himself, clearly unsure if he should continue.

“You think I’m…?” you prompted, your heart beating a little faster.

“I think you’re amazing,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “And way out of my league. But I can’t stop thinking about you. Or the books you’ve been buying. And I—” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to mess this up by being… me.”

Your chest tightened at his earnestness. “Spencer,” you said, your voice warm. “You’re not going to mess anything up. If anything, you’re the reason I keep coming back here.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really,” you said, smiling. “And for the record, I think it’s brave of you to admit all of this. It makes me like you even more.”

Spencer blinked, as if your words didn’t compute right away. “You… like me?”

“I do,” you said simply. “And if you want, maybe we could… take things slow? Get to know each other better? No expectations, just us?”

A small, tentative smile broke across Spencer’s face. “I’d like that. A lot.”

You took the bag from the counter, your fingers brushing his as you did. “Good. Then it’s a date.”

Spencer’s blush returned full force, but this time, there was a spark of confidence in his eyes. “A date,” he echoed, his voice soft but certain.

As you left the store, you glanced back and saw him standing there, still looking a little dazed but undeniably happy. You couldn’t wait to see what came next.

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves as you walked into the small café where you and Spencer had agreed to meet. It wasn’t far from the bookstore, and the cozy ambiance—a mix of soft lighting and the smell of fresh coffee—felt like the perfect backdrop for your first date.

Spencer was already there, sitting at a small table by the window. He was fidgeting with his watch, glancing at the door every few seconds. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he quickly stood, almost knocking over his chair in the process.

“Hi,” he said, his voice just a little too loud before he cleared his throat and tried again. “Hi.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you replied, smiling at his endearing nervousness.

“I, uh, got us a table,” he said, gesturing awkwardly. “It’s by the window because I thought you might like the view. But if you don’t, we can move. Or—”

“This is perfect,” you interrupted gently, taking the seat across from him.

He visibly relaxed, sitting down as well. A server appeared, and you both placed your orders—coffee for him, tea for you, and a couple of pastries to share.

“So,” Spencer began once the server left, clasping his hands on the table. “I, um, did some research on first dates.”

“You did research?” you asked, amused but not surprised.

“Yes,” he admitted, blushing. “I wanted to make sure I, uh, didn’t mess this up. Apparently, asking questions is a good way to, um, get to know someone better.”

“You’re doing great so far,” you assured him.

He smiled, his nerves slowly giving way to that boyish charm you were growing so fond of. “Okay. So, um… what made you start coming to the bookstore? Was it just the books, or…?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Well, the books were part of it. But the owner? He might’ve been the bigger reason.”

Spencer blinked, caught off guard. “Me? Why me?”

“Why not you?” you countered. “You’re smart, sweet, and passionate about what you do. Plus, you have great taste in quotes.”

He ducked his head, clearly flustered. “That’s, um, very kind of you to say.”

“It’s true,” you said firmly.

Spencer’s coffee arrived, sickly sweet, giving him a moment to recover. He stirred it thoughtfully before glancing up at you, his expression more serious now.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Of course.”

“It’s about the books,” he admitted, his blush deepening. “The, um, romance ones you’ve been buying.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “What about them?”

“I’ve just been… curious,” he said, stumbling over his words. “About what you like about them. Not that there’s anything wrong with liking them! I just—well, I don’t really understand the appeal. But I want to.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his earnestness. “Are you asking because you want to understand me better?”

“Yes,” he admitted without hesitation.

Your heart swelled at his honesty. “Well, for me, it’s not just about the romance or the steamy parts—though those can be fun,” you said, watching his blush deepen. “It’s about the connection between the characters. The tension, the buildup, the way they overcome obstacles to be together. It’s… exciting and comforting all at once.”

Spencer nodded thoughtfully, his brows furrowed in concentration. “So it’s about the emotional journey, not just the… physical aspects?”

“Exactly,” you said. “Though I won’t lie—the physical parts are written pretty well too.”

Spencer’s ears turned bright red, and he took a long sip of his coffee to hide his face. You laughed softly, reaching across the table to touch his hand.

“Spencer,” you said, your tone light but sincere. “You don’t have to worry about comparing yourself to fictional characters. You’re already more thoughtful and charming than most of them.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice small but hopeful.

“Really,” you said, squeezing his hand.

He smiled, a genuine, heart-melting smile that made you forget about everything else around you.

The rest of the date passed in a blur of conversation and laughter. Spencer opened up about his love of obscure literature and his dream of turning his bookstore into a community hub for readers. You told him more about yourself, and by the time the check came, it felt like you’d known each other for years.

As you left the café, Spencer walked you to your car, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He hesitated for a moment before saying, “This was… really nice. Better than I thought I’d be at, honestly.”

“You did great,” you assured him, stepping closer. “I had a wonderful time.”

“So did I,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours.

For a moment, it felt like the world paused. Then, tentatively, Spencer leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was quick and sweet, but it left you feeling warm all over.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” you replied, smiling as you got into your car.

Just as Spencer turned to head back toward the bookstore, you rolled down your window and called out, “Spencer, wait!”

He stopped mid-step, turning to look at you with wide eyes.

“Do you want to come back to my place?” you asked, your voice soft but sure.

His surprise melted into a shy, hopeful smile. “I’d like that.”

The ride to your apartment was quiet, but the tension between you was undeniable. Spencer sat with his hands tightly clasped, his gaze flickering to you every so often. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was charged, like the moment before a storm.

Inside, you gestured toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab us some tea.”

He hesitated for a second before perching on the edge of the couch, his eyes scanning the room like he was trying to take in every detail. By the time you returned, he’d stood again, nervously wandering over to your bookshelf.

His fingers brushed one of the novels you’d recently bought, and when you handed him his mug, he was staring at the sultry cover. “This one…” he murmured, trailing off as his face flushed.

You set your tea down and stepped closer, gently taking the book from his hands and placing it back on the shelf. “Forget about that,” you said softly, your voice steady.

Spencer turned to you, his face still flushed, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. You smiled, stepping closer, until you were just inches apart.

When your hand reached up to brush a curl from his forehead, he froze, his breath catching. Slowly, you let your fingers trail down to his jaw, cupping it gently. His skin was warm under your touch, his pulse racing beneath your fingertips.

The first kiss was soft, tentative. You barely brushed your lips against his, testing the waters. Spencer exhaled sharply, his hands twitching at his sides before finally landing on your waist.

When you kissed him again, he responded more eagerly, leaning into you as his grip on your hips tightened. His movements were unpolished, hesitant, but there was something intoxicating about his inexperience—the way he kissed you like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

You guided him gently, deepening the kiss as you pressed closer, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. A soft sound escaped him, half-surprise, half-pleasure, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Spencer pulled back just enough to look at you, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His lips were slightly swollen, his expression caught between awe and uncertainty.

You didn’t give him time to overthink. You tugged him down onto the couch, straddling his lap as his hands instinctively found your waist again. His touch was tentative but firm, his fingers curling against your sides as if he was afraid to let go.

When your lips found his again, Spencer let out a quiet groan, the sound muffled against your mouth. His awkwardness was still there, but it was paired with a growing confidence as he followed your lead, his kisses becoming bolder, deeper.

Your mouth tastes like honey, and his lips are warm and soft. The contrast makes him smile into the kiss, pulling back ever-so-slightly, looking down at you and taking his lower lip between his teeth. He looks sheepish, but also pleased with himself.

He was shy, hesitant, and extremely adorable.

"Can we do that again?" He asks, a little breathlessly, his eyes hopeful.

"Sure, Spence, anything you want," You smile softly, cupping his cheeks and bringing his face down towards yours.

Spencer lets out a noise halfway between a groan and a whimper when your tongues meet. His arms tighten around your waist and he pulls you closer, pressing his body against yours.

His hands are large, and hot, and they almost cover your back as his fingertips draw patterns across your skin.

"Have you done this before, Spencer?"

He blushes. "Y-yeah, uhm… actually no. I- I mean I’ve kissed people before! I just-”

You quickly cut him off, pressing a finger to his plush, pink lips. “Let me lead you.’

He nods, his gaze dropping to your lips as his breathing picks up. You smile, tilting his chin up and kissing him softly, his lips parting instantly for you.

You pull back a few moments later, his eyes dark and full of longing as he stares at you.

"Lay down and let me take care of you, pretty boy."

"O-okay." He whispers, nodding his head and moving to the floor, lying on his back.

You crawl over him, his breath hitching as you position yourself above his hips. You can feel the hardness of his cock through the material of his pants and you press yourself down against it, drawing a low moan from his throat.

He closes his eyes, his lips parting as he lets out a soft gasp. His hands reach up to grip your hips, pulling you closer as his breathing grows faster.

"Fuck," he murmurs, his eyes still closed as he rocks his hips upwards. You can feel him growing harder and thicker with each movement, and you press down harder, rubbing yourself against him.

"Please," He whines, his hands fumbling at the front of your dress. "I need- I want-"

"Shh, it's okay, Spencer. I've got you."

He lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your dress and slide over your thighs, moving upwards until they brush the edges of your underwear. You shift slightly, allowing him better access.

He lets out a soft gasp as his fingers brush over the wet spot on the fabric, his cock twitching against your core. You roll your hips against his, feeling his length harden beneath you, and his eyes flutter open, looking up at you with a desperate, pleading expression.

"I'm yours, Spencer. Take what you need."

"God," He whispers, his voice breaking. "I want you so badly."

He surges up, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue seeking yours out. You moan into his mouth, pressing your hips harder against his.

"Take it, baby," you whisper, your lips brushing against his as you break the kiss, leaning down to press your mouth to the delicate curve of his neck. Your tongue flicks against his pulse point before you suck gently, drawing a needy whimper from him. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving as his hands grip your hips like you might slip away.

His fingers tremble as they venture beneath the waistband of your panties, the tentative touch sending a shiver racing down your spine. “Please,” he whispers, voice breaking, raw with need. “Just want to feel you.”

With shaking hands, he eases the fabric down your legs, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of awe and hunger. His fingers ghost over your inner thighs, exploring the soft skin with a featherlight touch. His breath catches audibly when his fingertips graze over your warmth, the slickness there making his movements glide effortlessly.

Slowly, tentatively, he drags his fingers up through your folds, his touch hesitant but electrifying. The warmth of your arousal coats his digits, allowing them to press into you with ease. You gasp softly at the intrusion, your hips rolling forward instinctively, grinding against his hand as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

Your lips trace a line along his jaw, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses that make him shudder beneath you. His voice is barely audible when he chokes out, “Like this?” His brows furrow with concentration, his inexperience evident but endearing.

Your walls flutter around him, pulling him deeper, and he groans low in his throat. “Yes,” you breathe, your voice hitching as you rock against his hand. “Just like that.”

You lift yourself slightly, reaching between you to help free him from his boxers. His cock springs free, hard and aching, the tip brushing against your entrance and sending a jolt of heat through you both.

He groans, his head falling back, lips parted as he struggles to catch his breath. His eyelids flutter closed, and his hands grip your hips, tentative but steady, guiding you as you sink down onto him. A low moan escapes you as he fills you, the stretch delicious and all-consuming, igniting a slow, smouldering heat that spreads through your entire body.

You pause for a moment, savouring the way he feels inside you, how perfectly he fits. Beneath you, Spencer’s breath hitches, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow gasps. His fingers tighten against your skin, trembling slightly as though he’s barely holding himself together.

“Look at you,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry as you brush a hand through his sweat-damp curls. “So fucking pretty, Spencer. You feel so good inside me.”

His eyes flutter open at your words, wide and glassy with awe. “You—you’re incredible,” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly.

You smile, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, your hips starting to roll in slow, deliberate movements. “Doing so well f’me, baby,” you praise, your voice breathy. “Fill me up so nicely.”

A deep groan escapes him, his grip on your hips growing firmer as he instinctively lifts his own to meet your movements. His inexperience is evident in the unsteady rhythm, but the sincerity and hunger behind every thrust make your stomach tighten with pleasure.

“That’s it, Spencer,” you murmur, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Just like that. Keep going, baby—making me feel so good.”

He gasps, the sound turning into a soft whimper as you grind down on him harder, taking him even deeper. “I-I can’t believe this,” he breathes, his voice raw with emotion. “You’re so perfect, I don’t—God, I don’t deserve this.”

You pull back just enough to cup his jaw, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Hey,” you whisper, your tone firm but tender. “Don’t say that. You’re amazing, Spencer. You deserve this—you deserve everything.”

His lips part, but whatever words he might have said are lost in a broken moan as you start moving faster, your hips rocking in a steady rhythm that has him gripping you tighter, his nails pressing into your skin.

“Feel how wet you make me?” you murmur, your voice dripping with heat as you guide his hand down between your bodies, letting his fingers brush against where your bodies are joined. “That’s all for you, Spencer. You’re driving me crazy.”

He groans deeply, his eyes squeezing shut as his hand lingers there, his touch hesitant but electrifying. “I—I’ve never...” His voice trails off into a shuddering gasp as you grind against him harder.

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his neck as you kiss and suck at the sensitive skin there. “So good for me. You feel so good inside me, baby. Keep going—don’t stop.”

His breathing grows more ragged, his movements becoming erratic as his control begins to slip. His hips jerk upward, meeting yours with increasing desperation, and he chokes out a shaky moan.

“God, I—I don’t think I can hold it,” he stammers, his voice breaking.

“Don’t hold back,” you murmur, your own voice trembling with pleasure. “I want to feel you, Spencer. Cum for me, baby. Let me see how good I make you feel.”

His entire body tenses as he gasps, “m gonna cum.” His fingers dig into the soft curve of your waist, holding you firmly in place as his hips buck upward, driving himself deeper into your heat.

“That’s right,” you murmur, your voice a breathy encouragement as you move with him. “Cum for me, baby.”

The words push him over the edge. His back arches off the couch, his face contorting with pure, unfiltered pleasure as his release takes over. His cock pulses inside you, the sensation leaving you breathless as his cries fill the room, raw and beautiful.

You watch him fall apart beneath you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hands clutching your hips as though grounding himself. His eyes squeeze shut, his head thrown back, and his lips form your name like a prayer.

As his orgasm subsides, he gasps, his hips still moving reflexively, as though he can’t let go of the moment. You run a hand through his sweat-damp curls, your touch soothing as his breathing begins to slow.

“So perfect,” you whisper, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

His eyes flutter open, dazed and glassy, and he gazes at you with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice shaky and soft.

You smile, brushing your thumb over his flushed cheek. “You’re welcome, sweet boy.”

With care, you lift yourself off of him, both of you wincing at the loss of connection. You settle beside him, pulling a blanket over your bodies, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his chest as he drifts into a contented haze.

And there, in the quiet aftermath, you feel his hand find yours, holding it tightly as though grounding himself in you.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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letorip · 2 months ago

Note

can u give us a summary of kiss with a fist 4 without spoiling?

lol... here's a spoiler

kiss with a fist [iv]

"you smashed a plate over my head, then I set fire to our bed"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: just as things begin to complicate even more between you and tara, her life becomes even more complicated

warnings: blood, angst, curse words, kissing, borderline sexual content

word count: 4.2k

A/N: i contemplated doing this in so many ways and i ended up thinking it was just funnier if i answered with the literal story. so... it was at least funny to me. it's shorter than normal, just because i didn't want to split up an action scene that'll take place next time, so expect a much longer part next time.

===+++===

You didn’t like police stations very much, and you weren’t exactly doing a good job of keeping it hidden. Your knee bounced against the dusty linoleum in a quiet tapping noise, and although you yourself couldn’t hear it with the endless amount of phones ringing and shouting down the hall, Tara clearly could.

Her head rested on your shoulder, where you had slumped, and she placed a hand right upon your knee, stopping it from bouncing anymore. Her dark eyes looked up at you. “You’re making me even more nervous.”

“Sorry,” you rushed, quick to pull your knee away from her hand.

Tara frowned, looking back down to the tiling. “Of course this had to happen.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean?” She shrugged, and you had to nudge her gently. “Tara?”

“Nothing,” she murmured. "Just Sam's license and her getting attacked at the bodega... I wasn't there, (Y/n)."

"You couldn't have known," you said, frowning at her. "Everyone thought all the 'Stab' shit was over."

"Yeah," Tara scoffed. "Mindy always says lightning doesn't strike twice, but I'm starting to wonder if that's really true."

"Or maybe it's just a crazed copycat. There's no way of knowing it's actually after you yet."

"That's not what Sam'll say." She had an uncharacteristic look of defeat in her eyes that you hadn't seen before. Tara was a spitfire, even to Sam. But she looked beside herself, wallowing against the soft fabric of your jumper. "Sam'll say that Ghostface is back. That we need to leave."

"Maybe she's right," you shrug.

"Maybe," Tara said. "But I don't want to go. I don't want to leave. I want to live, but... if it's not him, I can't just keep living my life on the run from whoever's chasing me. That means Amber won."

"Amber?"

"Yeah... Amber. Amber Freeman. She was my, uh, girlfriend."

"Oh," you frown. Tara's dark eyes looked up at you, nervously watching your reaction.

"Yeah... and she was Ghostface."

"Oh," you repeated. Tara never spoke about her much, and neither had the rest of the core four, really. It had never really dawned on you to ask, just because it seemed important to Tara, and for the longest time, what was important to her wasn't important to you. "Are you still nursing that wound?" you asked.

She smiled, but it did not reach the corners of her eyes. "Sometimes. It feels weird since she almost killed me, but there are times I really miss her. Grief demands to be felt, and all."

"Even if it's a murderous psychopath?" you asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she snorted, turning her head on your shoulder. "Even if it's a murderous psychopath." Then, she grew serious. "We should probably talk about last night, right?"

You froze, swallowing what felt like a lump in your throat. "Uh, now?"

"Well, it's just, I kind of felt something... I don't know. I know we said this was fake and all, and I don't know if you have your eye on anyone else right now," Tara began to ramble, "so if you do, don't feel pressured to agree to anything. I know I kind of made a messy situation out of this, and I don't even know where to go--"

But she was interrupted by the door down the hall opening. It was loud enough that your attention was pulled towards it, and through it came a woman with a stack of files in her arm. She smiled warmly at Tara, walking right over, and Tara seemed to recognise her, sitting up in her chair.

The warmth on your chest where her head had been was gone in an instant, and you would have been lying if you said you hadn't selfishly begun to miss it.

"Tara, right?" the woman asked with a smile, and Tara nodded, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and an underlying suspicion. But the woman just gave her a gentle smile.

"Kirby," she said, extending her arm out for a handshake. "Kirby Reed. I used to go to high school with Sam, and now I'm with the FBI."

Your eyes widened. If the FBI were now involved with the case, it was definitely not a good sign. You felt Tara's hand go to yours, squeezing it. If you were to ask her about it, she'd likely say it was to calm the nervousness you hadn't been able to hide on your face, but you knew that it was to steady herself, if anything.

"FBI?" Tara asked. "So it's really him?"

Kirby frowned. "I'm hoping it's some copycat, but from what I've seen so far, I'm not too sure. Is Sam still back there being questioned?"

Tara nodded, grimacing. "Apparently, both of us are people of interest. Our roommate's dad is on the case."

"Well," Kirby said, "I'll see if I can help him." She turned to you. "And who's this?" she asked.

"Uh--" you started, but Tara shook her head, interrupting.

"--(Y/n) isn't involved," she glared, defending you with a ferocity in her voice.

Kirby gave you a look over. "Are you sure? I don't mean to disrespect either of you, but are you sure you can trust them, Tara? It's never who you expect."

Tara nods. "I know they're not Ghostface. (Y/n) wouldn't lie."

(Y/n) wouldn't lie. The sentence made you sick to your stomach. You could see Calvin in your mind, laughing at how you got yourself into this situation. Alisha would've found it funny, too. You swallowed, standing up from the chair. You smiled weakly at Tara. "It's okay, Tar. I'll go home... just let me know if you need to leave... for the... uh, arrangement, or whatever."

She nodded, mouth drawn into a line. "Yeah... see you later... Duck," she said, trying equally as hard to smile. You turned around, walking out.

===+++===

You had pretty much collapsed into bed, the moment you got home. It had been an exhausting few hours, what with finishing your model and then rushing with Tara to the police station. Your final class of the semester was later in the day, so you would take any sort of sleep you could get.

And the sleep you took, waking up a few hours later with mussed-up hair and a final to get over and done with. You grabbed the model and your backpack, heading for the train station, and finally checking your phone for the first time in a little while.

Little Shit (do not pick up): mindy wants everyone at the park later, after your final

Little Shit (do not pick up): good luck with that, btw

Little Shit (do not pick up): also we should still probably talk about last night i didn't get to finish earlier

You gave a thumbs-up to the first message, and quickly typed back a thanks, before tucking it into your pocket. The critique was boring, but you couldn't help but feel yourself swell with pride when your professor complimented the small amount of green space you had put within the actual walls of the building. It had been Tara's idea, and you reminded yourself to thank her later. Now all you had to do was go to Mindy's weird meeting, and you could begin your break.

The group was sitting on a group of benches near the green, with Mindy hovering over them, her arms crossed. When she saw you coming, she raised her eyebrow at you in suspicion. You rolled your eyes, coming to sit down next to where Tara had saved you a seat.

She sent you a small smile when you did, weaving your fingers together. You knew that to the group she was just doing it because you and Tara were allegedly a couple, but just to you it felt like so much more than that.

And it made you feel a little bit sick, again.

"How'd your final go?" she asked, and it made your heart stop for a moment, the way her warm brown eyes looked in the soft sunlight. You shrugged, but could not stop the smile spreading itself on your face.

"The professor liked your idea."

"Really?!" she asked, sounding super excited, and you nodded. "Well now who's silly, for telling me it was a bad idea?"

"Well because it is a silly idea, genuinely who would think of that."

"I would. It isn't silly, it's cool."

"I'm afraid cool doesn't always work, Tara."

"It did this time," she said smugly, sticking her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes, knowing but not hating that she'd be gloating about it for weeks.

"Lovebirds, cut the chit-chat," Mindy shot, glaring in your direction, and Tara huffed in annoyance but begrudgingly turned towards her. "Now, as terrifying as it all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time."

"Mindy," Sam chided, arms crossed over her chest.

"Right, sorry," she said. "The way I see it, someone’s out to make a sequel to the requel."

"What’s a requel?" Anika asked, leaning forward as if trying to understand her girlfriend's antics. You didn't know either.

"You’re beautiful, sweetie, but let’s hold questions to the end," Mindy teased.

From next to you, Tara looked more worried. "Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro, but Stab 2 took place in college…"

Sam tensed. "So you think the killer’s copying the second movie?"

"Like a homage!" Chad suggested, looking proud of himself. The rest of the group shot him a look. "What? You all I know took French, it should not be a surprise that I know that word."

"Just a little bit," Tara teased. He sent her a small smile, one that you knew came from his massive crush on her. It only made you feel a bit worse about the both of you.

"That’s one possibility," Mindy said, nodding at the suggestion. "Heroes now in college? Check. Suspicious new characters brought in to round out the suspect list and/or body count?" she looked at you, Ethan, Quinn, and Anika. "Check, check, check, and check."

"I really don't like this," Ethan said.

"But it can’t only be about Stab 2," Mindy continued. Tara's eyebrows furrowed.

"Why not?" she asked.

Mindy had a glint in her eye. "It would make sense if this were just a sequel. But we’re not in a sequel, because nobody just makes sequels anymore."

"So what is it?" you asked, deciding to bite on her theory.

"We’re in a franchise. And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise," she replied.

Sam sighed. "I had a feeling."

But Mindy wasn't deterred. "Now, rule one: everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count; longer chases, shoot-outs, beheadings- you gotta top what came before to keep people coming back."

"Beheadings?" Chad asked, taking notes.

Next to him, Ethan looked rather lost. Quinn and Anika looked just as confused. You were glad you weren't the only one lacking a real understanding of how the core four operated. They had earned a right to be a little nuts after surviving Woodsboro, that you knew. But the whole thing seemed a bit conspiratorial.

"Rule Two, whatever happened before, expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations; if the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be true here." It was hard to absorb these things laid out as facts, and you struggled to follow Mindy's train of thought, sending Anika a wary glance. She just shrugged.

Tara noticed your confusion, sending a small squeeze to your hand and mouthing the word 'later.' You nodded, turning your attention back to Mindy, attempting to do your best to listen.

"And Rule Three, no one is safe. Legacy characters are cannon fodder at this point, usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. Sidney’s smart to sit this one out, but it’s not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. And that’s not even the worst part."

"There's a worst part?" You asked. Mindy nodded, smirking.

"The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic instalments designed to boost an IP, which means the main characters are completely expendable now too. Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, even Luke Skywalker all died so their franchises could live on. That means it’s not just the friend group, any of us could go at any time, especially Sam and Tara."

You sent Tara a wary look at the suggestion, leaning harder against her. She tried to send you a small smile to comfort you, but it did little to stop the thought coming to your mind. You were cursed, that much was true from the sheer amount of grief that seemed to permeate around your family. It was a bad idea, to get so close to Tara, and that you knew. But it didn't stop the fact that you had a near electric desire to do so whenever she was nearby.

"Wait, any of us? Am I in the friend group?" Ethan asked, beginning to panic. "Am I one of the targets? Am I gonna die a virgin?"

"Um," Mindy started, blinking. "Weird overshare, but at least that brings us to our current suspects." Her gaze steeled over.

"Ethan. The shy dorky guy who no one suspects, because he’s so shy and dorky." Next to him, Chad shot him a more assessing glance.

"Why am I on the list? Because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?!" Ethan asked, raising his voice.

"Roommate lotteries can be juked, you could have fixed it to get next to us," Mindy shot back, crossing her arms in increased suspicion. She turned to Quinn. "Quinn. The slutty roommate. A horror movie classic."

"Sex positive," Quinn corrected, "but thank you."

"And how did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" Mindy asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I answered their ad online--" Quinn started, and Mindy scoffed, raising her hand up.

"Say no more, you’ve already implicated yourself enough. 'Ad online,' good lord."

"Mindy, it was an anonymous ad, and you know we vetted her, plus her Dad’s a cop," Tara interjected.

"Tara, Tara, Tara," Mindy said, shaking her head. "Cop Dad? That's a great cover. Don't you get that's how these movies would work? Speaking of, while we're on Tara," she continued, turning to you.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi (Y/n)," she replied, smiling. It dropped to a frown. Tara's grip on your hand tightened. "(Y/n). The enemies-to-lovers, quippy 'annoyance' one of our main characters has incredible sexual tension with."

"Ew," Sam shuddered.

"Ew indeed," Mindy agreed. "Never trust the love interest." She looked over to Anika, who was smiling at her girlfriend. "Ever." Anika's face fell.

"Okay. So we’ve got our rules, and we’ve got our suspects," Sam huffed.

"Wait- what about the rest of you?" Ethan interrupted.

"I mean, I think it’s safe to rule out the four of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro," Mindy shrugged.

"Agreed," Chad nods.

"Um, not agreed. Maybe the trauma of what you went through caused one or more of you to snap," Quinn suggested, playing with the nail polish on her fingers.

"Or the fame you got from the killings made you thirsty for more! Ethan jumped in again. "And, let’s be honest, some of those theories online about Sam are--"

Tara sends him a death glare. "Don'y you fucking dare finish that sentence."

"He’s right, though. Face facts. If we’re all suspects? You’re all suspects," Anika shrugs.

You sent a wary look around at everyone and then another look back down to Tara, wondering which one would hurt her, and just how you'd be able to stop it.

===+++===

That night was the first night in a while nothing was expected of you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to actually relax. Mindy's monologue about how royally bloody fucked everything was now that Ghostface was officially back had set you a bit on edge, and part of you couldn't help but blame yourself.

You had thought the curse would get left behind in Nebraska, when you left, but it seemed maybe you had taken it with you, packed with your belongings. Maybe it was now affecting the person you had wished to protect from any harm. It still felt miraculous, just how Tara had wormed her way from your shit list to deep within your heart. Maybe that was the curse. Someone who could make you so annoyed could also make you feel like your heart was skipping beats.

You coped with the extreme worrying through a cooked meal and TV binge, flopping down on the couch and turning your ringer on, in case you were needed. You knew that Sam and Tara were likely preparing for the worst, and you also knew that you had been included on the list of suspects.

Maybe none of them rightfully believed you had it in you, but you also knew that even being a possibility meant that the core four had to keep you at arm's length for a while.

Or, at least, that's what you figured they'd do.

Right as the episode you were watching began to roll credits, you heard a hard knock on the door, freezing. Mindy had said something in a text, telling you to be cautious of opening doors when no one was scheduled to come over. You shot a wary look to your magnetic strip of knives, hanging over the hotplate. If you were just fast enough, maybe you could grab a knife or two, if Ghostface busted the door in. There was usually a phone call, wasn't there? Then why--

"(Y/n)?" Tara called, giving a hard knock. You felt your cheeks flush. Oh. You dashed to the door, not wanting to leave her on the step for too long.

When you opened it, you could see that Tara's own cheeks were flushed, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"Did you run here???" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh...maybe," Tara said, suddenly finding the hallway outside of your flat much more interesting.

"I thought Sam would have you under lock and key," you teased.

"I snuck out..." Tara said, cheeks flushing again, but this time not from the run.

"Oh, so I'm harbouring a criminal?" you joked. Tara rolled her eyes, groaning.

"Can I just come in?"

"Do you trust me to do that?" you asked, curious. "I understand if you say no, believe me I get it. If I had been attacked or anything, especially by my girlfriend, I wouldn't trust anyone for a long time..."

Tara watched you ramble speak, eyes wide and dark and beautiful in the dim hall light. "I trust you... and I, uh, want some small amount of normalcy, like it was at the lab. Before everything got so weird, you know?"

You nodded, stepping aside for her to enter and then freezing. "Wait, Tara, what happened to your hand?"

You hadn't noticed until now, but her knuckles on the other hand had been bruising a dusty purple colour, still red at the edges. You let the door shut behind you, turning to her hand and holding it up in the lamplight of your hall. "What happened?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Tara's cheeks flushed again. "I punched a bitch," she said flatly. Your eyes widened even more, and Tara was quick to shake her head. "Just Gale Weathers. She wrote, uh, a whole book on Woodsboro. Called Sam a bunch of bad stuff. She actually was outside the station with the news and stuff when Sam was questioned earlier today... so I punched her."

You snorted. "Judging by your hand you definitely got her."

"Oh absolutely," Tara scoffed, as if she was offended by a possibility that she hadn't.

"You should probably ice it," you said with a wince, looking at the bruised skin. She scoffed again.

"What're you, a doctor?"

You shrugged, leading her into your kitchen. "I was going to be."

"Oh," Tara hummed.

"Yeah... took one introductory class and realised I hated it. It sucks too, because I gave my parents this whole speech about how I wanted to be a doctor because of our family, and I dropped the profession about a month or two later afterwards."

"Is that why you and your dad don't talk much?" she asked. "Is he a doctor?"

"No," you said, shaking your head. It was an amusing suggestion. "About as far as you could get from it, actually. But no, it isn't why we don't really talk." You didn't say any more on the subject, even though you could tell that Tara was curious. "We should really get you iced up, your hand is swollen, I can't believe you didn't show me this earlier."

She rolled her eyes. "You're acting like my parent again."

"I'm just worried about you, Tara," you said, shooting her a meaningful look. She was staring up at you with those damn eyes again like you held her heart in your hands. "I mean, come on, let's just put a bag of ice on it or something, or--"

But before you could finish what you were suggesting, Tara interrupted you, throwing her arms around your neck and standing up on her toes. "Is this okay?" she whispered, voice low. It flooded your ears and squeezed the air from your lungs, just how close her lips were from yours.

You can't help the small nod, or the way you're probably dumbly staring at her mouth right now, but her eyes are warm and inviting, and your hands find their way to her waist, palming at the exposed skin of her cropped shirt with your thumbs. "I've, uh, kind of wanted to do this for weeks," Tara admits with a small grin. The words spin around and around in your mind like you're on some carousel of thought.

If you could have formed words, you would have told her the truth: you had wanted to kiss her since she walked in the room and you saw her for the first time. But you can't. So instead, you crash your lips onto hers.

Tara doesn't hesitate even a little bit, wrapping her arms around your neck and falling off her toes as she kisses you back with fervour. You follow her down, working your lips against hers as her hands give up on your neck and instead move to spread themselves out on the warm apples of your cheeks.

You're taken over by some other, hungry entity entirely, and you lift Tara up onto the kitchen counter, into the exact same place she was sitting when she asked you for help with this stupid scheme. It doesn't matter now, you're too lost in her lips. You feel her tongue push past and into your mouth, and her hands travel up your back to spread out against the back of your shirt and pull you against her.

You can't help the groan that escapes your mouth, and you feel Tara's teasing smile against your lips as she breathes in your smell. Your hands are still on her waist, sliding up so that your thumbs gently brush against the bottom of her bra. She shudders at the sensation, opening her mouth wider, and you can taste the lingering cherry of her chapstick on her lips.

Neither of you is especially sure how long you stay there, but when you finally have to pull away, you're scrambling for air. You lazily let your forehead rest against hers, catching your breath and struggling to stay on your feet. Tara lets her hands wander from your back into your hair, exploring the planes of your body for the first time, and you can't stop the small comment that worms its way from your mouth after.

"Exploring the merchandise?" you ask with a teasing, breathless laugh. Tara shakes her head, finally opening her eyes and looking up at you with that same damn beautiful look.

"You should come stay with me and the others. It's safer that way," she says, becoming worried again. Her hands rest on your cheeks and she kisses you again, softer, but just as meaningful.

You painfully have to shake your head. "I can't, you know that."

"I won't be mad if you leave town," she says. "I won't hold it against you."

You smile. "I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere, Tara."

She nods, processing it, before crashing her lips back onto yours and tugging at the bottom of your shirt, but you catch her hands before she can tug it over your head. "No, Tara- Tara wait."

"I want you," she says.

"I know, but we should wait," you say, hands on the side of her thighs. "Wait until it's over. Right now, Ghostface is more important."

"He gets everything, (Y/n). I just want this. I want you. I know we did this whole thing about fake dating, and I know it wasn't real, but I realise that I want it to be. I just want you."

There's a burning in your stomach, burning for her, and you pull her in for another kiss. Only to be stopped by the sound of your door creaking open.

You freeze and so does Tara at the noise. "(Y/n)?" she asks, trembling. "Did you lock your front door?"

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN catch you all next time for a big ole action sequence and a whole bunch of drama

#letorip #answered #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter

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kikyoupdates · 4 months ago

Text

Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟷

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

story masterlist | next

“...you can do what now?”

“Hire someone to date you,” your friend, Ava, repeats. She chuckles and waves you off dismissively. “Come on, [Name]. It’s the modern age. People are always coming up with new things these days. I’m willing to bet there’s an app or website out there for practically anything.”

You blink in disbelief. Granted, there is all kinds of crazy shit going on in the world, and you’ve heard of companionship services before—like escorts or sugar baby arrangements—but to hear that something like this is trending nowadays is still undeniably a shock.

“Here, look,” Ava gestures, pulling out her phone. “I was curious, so I downloaded the app the other day just to check out.”

“Uh, don’t you already have a boyfriend?”

“He knows I was just browsing. I showed him too, and we scrolled through some stuff together. A lot of the profiles on here are wild,” she laughs. “It’s crazy what people advertise they’re willing to do. Get a load of this guy. He says he’s down to meet your family and make a total ass out of himself just so that he lowers your parents’ standards and the next real boyfriend you get will look way better by comparison.”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. “I can’t tell if this is actually real, or just some new meme template.”

“Of course it’s real! I think you’re underestimating how lonely people these days are. There’s definitely a lot of money to be made in this industry. Just look at how much people are willing to blow on their favorite streamer, even though they’ve never met them a day in their life. Dating’s gotten a lot more complicated lately, so I guess some people just want to skip past the troublesome parts and experience what it’s like to be with someone.”

You furrow your brows. The whole thing sounds incredibly sad when you think of it that way. People would rather pay for a fabricated relationship than put in the time and effort towards building something real? Loneliness is starting to sound like an actual epidemic nowadays.

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t judge people without understanding where they’re coming from,” you acknowledge. “It’s not like I know what they’ve been through. Times are changing and all. It sounds like this is actually starting to become pretty mainstream.”

Ava nods chipperly. “Yep! I mean, I love my boyfriend, so I’m definitely not the target audience, but maybe it’s what some people need to gain a little boost of confidence and get back into the dating scene. I doubt everyone uses it in a romantic sense too. There are people out there that just want a bit of company every now and then. Isn’t it nice that they have someone to spend time with this way?”

“Yeah… I guess that’s true.”

Honestly, you’re still struggling to fully wrap your head around this. You understand the premise well enough, but you can’t really get past the part about accepting payment just to provide someone with a fabricated experience. Then again, you suppose that’s the case for most things nowadays. People are willing to spend the brunt of their earnings on in-game purchases for video games and other things that aren’t tangible in the real world, because even though they aren’t necessarily organic, it still provides them with some satisfaction.

Long story short, it’s not up to you to decide what does or doesn’t make someone else happy, and you suppose as long as it’s executed in a professional manner, there’s nothing wrong with meeting new people this way.

“Hey, I’ve got a great idea,” Ava suddenly perks up. “You should join this app! You’re super pretty, smart, and nice. I bet you’d have loads of guys lining up to hire you as their girlfriend!”

“Me?” You blink repeatedly, shuffling backwards the closer she leans in. “I mean, I just don’t think I’m the right person for the job. If it makes people happy, then I support it, but deep down, I worry I’d feel like I’m exploiting someone’s feelings just for a few extra bucks. Morally speaking, I’m not so sure I like the idea…”

“It’s not exploitation,” she insists. “People know what they’re signing up for. At the end of the day, it’s a buyer-seller relationship. Someone pays for the service being advertised, and they receive it. As long as you’re not ambiguous about what you’re willing to do for the amount that you’re charging, people know what to expect. Of course, I’m sure there might be the occasional asshole here and there, but if they do anything inappropriate or violate the terms, you can report them through the app and they’ll be banned from using it.”

You’re not quite sure how to respond to that. Some extra money would be nice. You’re a university student with all sorts of loans, so it’s not like you’ve got excess cash lying around. And it’s also true that you’ve been looking to apply for a new job lately, since your old manager was a total ass and you ended up quitting.

Still. A girlfriend-for-hire? Someone like you? It’s just really difficult to imagine.

“I actually think it’d be a good experience,” Ava goes on. “You’ve never really put yourself out there before. I know everyone dates at their own pace and stuff, but you shouldn’t have to be afraid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet some cool people and want to date them for real. And even if you don’t end up going for them, you still make some money, so either way, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

You chuckle weakly. “Yeah, I just don’t know. I feel like I’m better suited for traditional jobs. But thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m glad you think people would actually be willing to pay to date me.”

“Girl, you seriously need to believe in yourself more,” Ava sighs. “I’m telling you, you’re a catch. But at the end of the day, it’s your call. You shouldn’t force yourself into anything if you feel uncomfortable.”

You smile and nod in agreement, and sensing your discomfort, Ava decides to change the topic.

But for some reason, you feel a twinge in your chest, and it’s hard to keep your mind from wandering.

Later that same day, you’re lounging on the couch, mouth agape, having just downloaded the app on your own phone.

“What the hell am I doing…?”

You tell yourself that it’s just simple curiosity. Yeah. That’s all it is. Ava piqued your interest earlier, and now you just want to scroll through in more detail to get a better sense of what kind of people use this platform.

The app is called ‘Partner For Hire’. The name isn’t particularly inspired, you have to admit, but you suppose it communicates its point rather effectively and leaves no room for ambiguity. Ultimately, this is a transactional relationship, and it’s probably for the best that clients know what to expect.

You can use the app as either a buyer or seller. Meaning that you can create your profile and advertise your services, or simply list yourself as a prospective client and what your hobbies and interests are. In that sense, it’s kind of similar to most dating apps, since you have to take a flattering photo to go along with whatever blurb you’re providing. Of course, just because you try to solicit someone’s services doesn’t mean there’s any guarantee they’ll accept. This is an app where you can run everything yourself, and of course the company takes a cut of your profits, rather than an agency that matches you with a client regardless of whether you want to accept the job or not.

There’s definitely a lot of flexibility, and you can easily choose who you want to pretend to date. If someone is interested in hiring you, they submit a request to be able to contact you, and once you accept, you can message them directly and establish the terms of the dating contract, such as the length and what particular services will be provided.

You scroll through the list of boyfriends/girlfriends being advertised on the app, and honestly, it seems like there’s a decent amount of money to be made. Of course, a lot of that comes with building a good reputation and improving your ratings and visibility so more people will want to hire you, but it actually seems like a decent amount of people are able to make a living off this sort of thing.

You bite down on your lower lip. Should you really go ahead and just do it? Like Ava said, there’s probably not much to lose. All the transactions are managed on the app, so you can easily report people who try to skip out on paying. Clients have to link their banking and personal info, so they’d be taking on a big risk by trying to scam people. You’re sure it might happen from time to time, but based on the reviews you’ve read, the company is really good at enforcing their policies and making sure everyone gets paid.

The money seems good, and it would definitely help take some pressure off your student loans, but ultimately, the biggest thing you’re struggling with is your moral compass.

People are willing to spend money for this kind of thing, and that’s entirely their choice to make, so it’s not like you’re extorting them or anything. Still… you wonder if it’s actually okay to profit off of someone else’s loneliness. You’ve never worked the kind of job that requires you to cater directly to another person’s emotions, and it kind of freaks you out.

But maybe Ava is right. There are all sorts of people in this world. Maybe some of them are just curious to try the app out. Maybe others just want to get their families off their back by pretending like they’re dating someone for a little while. There’s no way to discern everyone’s motivations, so perhaps there’s really no point in thinking about it at all.

Most importantly, this could be a good thing for you. Life has been stagnant recently, and it’s true that you usually hesitate to put yourself out there. You’ll never learn what you do or don’t like if you keep on avoiding everything. This could be a chance to learn a lot about other people, but also, to learn more about yourself.

Yeah. It’s time to stop overthinking for a change and just try something new.

Thus, feeling unusually determined, you spend the rest of the day setting up your profile (finding nice selfies was the longest part of the whole ordeal), and with a resolved huff, you post it and officially go live on the app.

You’re not really sure what you were expecting, but needless to say, there isn’t any immediate feedback. It probably takes a while for people to stumble across your profile, and even then, there’s no guarantee they’ll want to go out with you.

I guess I was getting worked up for no reason. Certain people might find success with this kind of thing, but it’s probably not as easy as it looks.

You scratch your cheek, suddenly sheepish over how needlessly excited you got earlier. You’re not used to stepping out of your comfort zone, so you must have gotten a bit carried away.

For the rest of the evening, you set your phone aside and come back to reality. You get some homework done, make dinner, and by the time you’re ready for bed, you’ve pretty much forgotten about the whole thing altogether.

That is, until you check and see that you’ve missed a notification.

“Huh? Someone viewed my profile and wants to message me?”

You’re undeniably taken aback. Not just because it’s happening a lot sooner than you expected, but also because it means that contrary to what you first thought, people are interested in you.

Having minimal experience when it comes to dating and romance in general, you have to admit, the thought of being viewed as desirable is immensely flattering.

Curious to see who wants to hire your services, you click on the user’s profile.

His name is Isaac, and he’s twenty-one years old, set to complete his undergraduate studies at the end of the year. He goes to a different university than yours, thankfully, because you can’t help but feel like it would be incredibly awkward to bump into him on campus after pretending to be his girlfriend. He’s studying to become a doctor, which means he’s still got a lot of school ahead of him, but you’ve always had a lot of admiration for people who are willing to commit to their goals and work hard.

Also, even though you don’t want to sound shallow or anything… he’s really, really attractive.

You frown. Granted, there’s more to a person than their appearance, but based on how he comes across in his profile and what his future career is, he doesn’t strike you as the type of person who would struggle to date someone.

But again, you can never know what’s going on in a stranger’s life. And there’s no real way to find out why he decided to join the app.

Apart from speaking to him directly, of course.

[𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬?]

>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]

After a momentary delay, the screen loads into a messaging interface, allowing you to see what Isaac sent you and respond to him directly.

You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times.

All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling.

More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now.

[𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞]:

You’re admittedly a bit nervous, especially since you want to do a good job and avoid letting him down, but mostly, you’re feeling excited. All of this is uncharted territory for you, after all. Never in a million years would you have imagined taking on a job like this.

And you really shouldn’t have.

You don’t know it yet, but this will be the cause of many, many regrets.

Shit. I’m starting to have second thoughts.

Even now, you still can’t believe you’re really going through with this. After talking to Isaac and ironing out the finer details, you agreed to join him for a family gathering and pose as his girlfriend. You expected for him to have quite a few requests, but luckily, he seems pretty laid back about the whole thing. The better portion of your conversation was spent on getting your stories straight so as not to incur any suspicion, and since you’ve always been a good student and a hard worker, you promptly memorized everything there was to know.

And now, it’s finally time to put this plan in motion.

“Hey,” Isaac greets. “[Name], right?”

It’s the evening, since his parents are hosting a dinner party. The event is supposed to be pretty casual, but you still dressed up semi-formal in the hopes of making a good impression. He never explicitly mentioned how strict his parents are, but since they’ve been on his case about getting a girlfriend, it never hurts to go the extra mile.

"Hi, Isaac,” you smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” he nods. He’s considerably taller than you, and every bit as handsome as his picture suggested. Unless his personality is god-awful (which you probably would’ve picked up on after messaging him for so long), you’ve got a good feeling that most girls would be interested in him.

Still, everyone is different. He might have really high standards, or maybe he wants to focus on his studies, or perhaps it’s just a case of having never met the right person. Whatever the reason may be, his parents shouldn’t be pressuring him to date someone, and if you have the means to help him out, you’ll happily do it.

“You look really nice,” Isaac says. He tilts his head to the side. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to dress up to impress anyone. The most important part is that they believe I’m seeing someone so that they finally ease up a bit.”

“Oh, I just did this for my own peace of mind,” you reassure. “I made sure to memorize everything you told me in advance, so I’m confident I can convince them that we’re the real deal. Even though this is technically my first day on the job… I promise not to let you down.”

You blush, feeling rather flustered. The idea of being someone’s hired girlfriend is still a lot to wrap your head around, and you certainly don’t want to make empty promises, but you have every intention of giving it your best shot. Isaac is in a stressful situation, and you’re resolved to do whatever you can to fix it.

“Can’t wait to get this over with,” Isaac sighs. He opens the passenger door and gestures for you to step inside the car. “Don’t worry. I know you might be feeling a bit uneasy, but I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything like that. I won’t hold it against you if you have 911 ready on speed dial until we get to my parents’ house.”

“I trust you,” you insist. “I’ve heard good things about this app, and it sounds like they take safety seriously. They’ve got your information in their system, after all. Plus, I can tell that you’re a nice guy. It’s just a gut feeling.”

“I appreciate it,” he smiles. “Anyways… I guess I’ve stalled for long enough. You can probably tell that I really don’t feel like going. But the sooner I get them off my back, the better.”

“I’ll be the best girlfriend you can ask for,” you beam.

It’s a promise to him, but also to yourself. You are committed to taking this new job seriously, and for the rest of the evening, you will do whatever it takes to blend into the role that’s been thrust upon you. There’s no reason to get worked up. At the end of the day, all of this is pretend. It won’t be anywhere near as complicated as a real relationship.

Right?

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badkitty3000 · 4 months ago

Note

can u write a five x reader smut where five makes the reader watch him jerk off before fucking them

This request has been in my inbox for a LONG time...sorry. I set this during season four, and it's mixed with my usual sense of humor and confidently sexy Five 😉

Forced Confinement: Friends to Enemies to Lovers

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 5.7k words, one-shot, reader request

Warnings: Smut, explicit sex, masturbation

Summary: You and Five used to be friends. That is, until he got you stuck in the endless cycle of time traveling trains and no way home. Now he is the last person you want to be stuck with at the end of the world. But, after months of resentment and bickering, you and Five finally work out your differences

It had been eleven months. Eleven months since you and Five had taken that stupid fucking train to nowhere. Why you had let him talk you into going with him, you had no idea. You had been friends and you trusted him, sure, but that didn’t mean you wanted to skip out on the real world forever and live in captive domesticity for the rest of your life. You had wanted adventure and danger, which always seemed to follow Five wherever he went. But that’s not what this turned into. This had turned into playing house.

After nine months of mindless travel to various timelines that just seemed to get worse and worse, you were about ready to kill one another. The passive aggressive arguing had gradually turned into bickering, which then turned into outright shouting matches. You wanted to go home, god dammit! You didn’t care that time travel was tricky or unpredictable. He had gotten you into this mess and you demanded that he get you out of it.

To get you to shut up, Five had presented you with a temporary solution. When you came across a mostly still standing house with a greenhouse and clean water, he begrudgingly suggested that you two stay there for a few days. Just to relax, wash up a bit, and gather some food. It would also grant him some time to think about how to navigate this situation you were in. You had agreed, although you had scoped the crappy house out first to determine if there were separate living quarters. There was only one real bedroom, but Five conceded it to you and said he would take the living room floor.

A few days had turned into two months.

You knew he was trying his best. You knew that. And you knew he certainly had never meant to get you stuck in this endless loop of time travel fuckery. He had only been trying to save the world. Again. Only this time, he wanted company. And since you and he had become friends over the course of the five years you had been serving him large quantities of whiskey and beer at your bar, he had asked you.

It’s not that you were best buddies or anything. You had never hung out outside of the bar. But he was a frequent enough customer that you and he had a good rapport. You were comfortable around each other, which you had noticed for Five, was kind of a big deal. And maybe you were a little flirty with one another as well. Not that anything had ever happened between you, but the tension had been there.

So, when Five had come stumbling in one night, seemingly already drunk, and had plopped down on a barstool in front of you with a smart-ass grin on his face, you were intrigued. After a very confusing and convoluted story about something called “marigold” and Five having the power to teleport and time travel, you were already hooked.

How many times had you dreamed of doing something amazing? Something so incredibly exciting and weird that when you told your friends all about it later, they wouldn’t believe you? It was just one of those silly fantasies that never left your head. But the longer you ran that bar, and the more comfortable you got pouring shots and mixing drinks for others, the less likely it became that your fantasy would ever be realized.

But time traveling subway trains and teleportation powers? It was everything you had been waiting for! When he told you his idea of trying to get to the correct timeline and stop another apocalypse from happening, you barely even hesitated.

In those first couple of months, you didn’t really mind being lost with no real way to get back home. It was still exciting and you were getting along great back then. He confided in you; told you he had asked you along because you were his only real friend and he just didn’t want to face the unknown alone again. He had apologized when it became clear he was just as lost as you were, and he promised to get you back safely. You made each other laugh, and invented stupid games to kill the boredom, and would cuddle up together on cold nights even though there was nothing romantic going on. Those were the good times.

But now…now, it was like the two of you were living in some bad sitcom with no laugh track. Five was still good looking, there was no getting around that. Even when he was grubby and dirty and his deodorant gave out months ago. Yes, he was hot, you could admit that. But that wasn’t quite enough to cover the fact that he was an arrogant, know-it-all asshole that was systematically ruining your life. You missed your bed. And your bar. And god, what you wouldn’t do for some fucking fast food. You had dreams about McDonald’s French fries and if Ronald McDonald himself had come walking up to you and told you he’d give you a Big Mac if you sucked his dick, you’d be on your knees in a second. That’s what this had come to; you would blow a clown for a hamburger.

Instead, here you were, in some bullshit little Hobbit house, listening to Five’s snoring from the other room. And if you had to eat another fucking strawberry, you were going to vomit. You would rather eat a dozen half-cooked subway rats than choke down another one of those god damn red berries. Sometimes you laid awake at night, envisioning Five choking on one, his eyes bulging as he panicked and tried unsuccessfully to get air through his blocked trachea. It brought a small amount of comfort to you. Until the morning, when you walked out and saw there were no animals in your traps, and you wanted to cry. No meat. Only fucking strawberries.

“We need more water,” you told him as you came out of the green house where the first few sprouts of cucumbers and green beans were finally starting to come through.

“So? Go get some, then,” Five muttered back at you, his head buried in a notebook while he sat at the wobbly kitchen table.

“No. I’m always the one that has to go get the water. It’s your turn.”

Five glanced up briefly, then looked back down at his incoherent scribblings. “I’m busy.”

“You’re busy?” you asked incredulously. “How the fuck is making little pictures in a book busy?”

He looked up again, his worn-down pencil paused in midair. His eyes narrowed. “They are not little pictures. They are complex mathematical equations that your simpleton mind cannot possibly understand.”

You snorted. “Fuck you.”

One corner of his mouth turned up just slightly and he set his pencil down, leaning back in his chair and draping one arm over the back. Fuck, if he didn’t look amazingly hot like that. Asshole.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been eye-fucking me since we got here. Actually, since before we got here.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “What the…are you delusional? Did you hit your head the last time you were out scavenging? I have, under no circumstances, been eye-fucking you.”

“Ok, sure…whatever you have to tell yourself.”

You placed a hand on your hip and tilted your head to the side. “If anyone is eye-fucking anyone, it’s you to me. I see the way you just so happen to look in my direction when I’m changing clothes.”

“If I do that, it’s only because I want to make sure you’re actually changing into something new instead of wearing that shitty old tank top that smells like dead rats.”

“That is my best tank top! And look who’s talking. Who wears a suit in a fucking apocalypse? It’s insane!”

“At least I don’t walk around with my tits half hanging out. I mean, fuck, those things are going to knock you out the next time you have to run from anything. It’s like you’re just begging for attention.”

You smiled. “Oh, I just bet you’d love to see me running with my tits hanging out, wouldn’t you? Probably play right into some weird-ass Baywatch fantasy you have.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” He tossed his head so that the piece of hair in his eyes flicked out of the way. “You are wearing the literal last pair of tits in the world right now and I wouldn’t care if you slathered them in baby oil and shoved them in my face.”

You watched as his eyes moved briefly to your chest before landing on your face again. You smirked. “Gosh, Five, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course you don’t want anything do with these.” You ran your hands up your sides and rested them on your breasts. Then you began to rub them and squeeze them together, all while looking him directly in the eye. You gave a little moan and licked your lips. It was subtle, but you saw him swallow and shift in his seat.

Five rolled his eyes, but you could tell you had gotten to him. “While the tits themselves may be alluring, there is the unfortunate fact that they are attached to the body that is powered by your idiot brain. Therefore…not interested.”

You gave them another hard push together, and then let out a short laugh before dropping your hands. “That’s what I thought.”

“What did you think?”

“That you’re a dickless asshole”

Five flashed you that devious smile that you had come to associate with an unfortunate fluttering inside your stomach. “I’ll concede to being an asshole. But dickless? Quite the opposite, sweetheart.”

Your mouth went dry at that implication and you momentarily had a loss for words. After a couple of seconds, though, you regained your cool.

“As much as I’m sure you’d just love to whip out your little pickle dick right now, how about you get your scrawny ass up and go get us some water? Sweetheart.”

Five gave a short laugh. “And as much as I’m sure you’d love to be choking on my pickle right now, like I told you…” He pointed his pencil at the notebook. “I’m busy.”

Without another word, he lowered his head and started scribbling again, ignoring you completely. Your mouth opened in another retaliation, but then it snapped closed again. There was no point in continuing your little childish spat. Five was a stubborn old bastard and it was a waste of time. You might as well go get the damn water yourself.

Giving a loud, dramatic huff, you flipped your hair over your shoulder and stomped away. You did happen to notice, though, that Five looked up to watch you leave. So, as a final act of brattiness, just before you were out of sight, you made sure to bend over and act like you were tying your shoe while wiggling your ass in the air. Which, if Five had the oversized brain he was always saying he did, he would remember that your shoelaces had disintegrated a month ago.

As you angrily made your way to the old well that was your water source, you mumbled out loud to yourself.

“He thinks he’s so fucking smart. Well, he’s not. Just because you’re a smoking hot asshole does not mean you’re a genius, I guarantee you.”

You tripped over a rock and you cursed before continuing on. “And he is dreaming if he thinks I’m the one that wants to fuck him. Granted, it has been a long time since I got laid, but still. I think I can do better than Five Hargreeves, even if he is the last man on earth.”

You approached the old-fashioned well pump that was still in service and started pumping, much more vigorously than needed while you ranted to no one. “Honestly, he is so hard up for some ass, it’s embarrassingly obvious. But, good luck buddy, because that ain’t happening.”

You watched thoughtfully as the water slowly poured into the plastic bucket that served as your portable water reservoir. You stared into the distance; the landscape not quite as bleak as the others you had seen. This one at least had some trees and wildlife. “Still…I did see him shirtless that one time and I can’t seem to get that little image out of my brain. The guy has sex appeal, there’s no doubt about that. And I suppose he’s not all bad. He did let me take the bed, after all. He hasn’t even tried anything, either, which I suppose makes him kind of a gentleman.”

You gave the well a few more pumps to fill the last of the bucket. “But why hasn’t he tried anything? Maybe he doesn’t think I’m attractive? He said he likes women, though. I wonder if he jerks off when I’m not around?”

You smiled to yourself, feeling your chest tighten a little at the thought. “I guess I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t used him as motivation for my own hand-fucking. He might be annoying but I bet he can deliver in certain areas.” You paused a moment more and sighed angrily, looking toward the sky. “Damn it…now I’m horny!” The water started overflowing in the bucket and you realized you’d been pumping the well for too long, wasting your most precious resource.

“Shit!” You stared at the dusty ground that was now turning into a muddy puddle around your feet. “He doesn’t need to know about this, that’s for sure. I don’t need yet another lecture on water preservation.”

Hoisting up the bucket, and holding it against your chest because the handle had given out a week ago, you started back towards the house.

“I’m going insane,” you panted as you made your way up the slight incline. “It’s official; I’ve finally lost it. Stuck out here in the middle of nowhere and talking to myself. Cool.”

As you walked into the house, the water bucket was partially obstructing your view and it sloshed water down your front as you set it heavily down on the floor.

“There,” you declared, out of breath. “Here’s the water, no thanks to – Oh holy shit!”

When you had looked up, you had been assaulted with the sight of Five pleasuring himself right there in your cozy kitchen. You froze, taking in the sight, not able to look away. He was on full display, with the chair pushed out from the table, facing the doorway. His shirt was open, sleeves cuffed up, head thrown back, eyes closed, pants undone, and his cock in his hand. He was languidly stroking himself, appearing to not be in a hurry to finish the job, while he sat there with his legs spread open for all to see. Well, not all to see…just you.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry…shit…what are you? Ok, never mind, um…I’m gonna, yeah, just go…” you stammered while still staring directly at the obscenity before you.

You said you were going to go, but you were rooted to the spot. Eventually, after what seemed like an inordinate amount of time considering what was happening, Five opened his eyes and looked at you. No, not looked. Stared at you. Those bright green eyes bored into you and a small smirk played on his lips.

Still panicking, but also confused as to the very real sensation of moisture not caused by the bucket of water forming between your legs, you abruptly turned to leave.

“Stop.”

Five’s voice was different than usual. Harder. Commanding. And you inexplicably stopped in your tracks.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed and slowly spun around, nervous as to what you might see, or have him see. You were sure the look on your face would give you away.

Five hadn’t moved. He was still stroking himself and he looked like he didn’t have one ounce of shame about it, either.

You swallowed hard. “What…”

“I decided after your little show earlier that I just couldn’t help myself. And now that you’ve got some wet t-shirt action going on, I’m going to need you to stay. I think you owe me that.”

Looking down at yourself, you saw that the spilled water had created a nearly see-through situation over your chest. Even your bra was soaked through, and your nipples were visible through the thin fabric. When you glanced back up, you bit at your lower lip. Despite the blush growing across your cheeks, you were intrigued with this new game.

“Owe you?” you asked, your voice cracking as you tried to keep your cool.

Five groaned quietly, picking up his pace and ignoring your question. “You really do have magnificent tits. Now, take that ratty ass top off.”

You couldn’t believe you were actually going along with his demands. You should be telling him to fuck off and throwing the nearest heavy object toward his head. Instead, you found yourself holding his eye contact while you slowly stripped your wet shirt away and dropped it onto the floor.

There was another deep moan from Five as he worked his shaft over with his whole hand, his breathing becoming louder.

“Bra,” he rasped.

As you unhooked your bra and let it fall on top of your shirt, you smiled at his reaction.

“Fuck honey…I’ve been dreaming about these tits for so long and they do not disappoint.” He groaned low in his throat again. “Perfect.”

You eyed him up and down, taking in the detail of his cock as his fist slid easily over it. It was most definitely impressive. Much more than you had imagined and you found yourself running your tongue over your bottom lip involuntarily.

“Shit, Five…I guess you weren’t kidding. Definitely not dickless.”

“You like what you see?” he asked, looking out under the pieces of hair that had flopped in front of his eyes.

You nodded, and then began to move closer in. “Yeah, I do.”

Five shook his head, pausing his fist fucking momentarily. “I don’t think so, honey. Not yet.”

“Not yet what?” you asked, thoroughly confused. Did he not want you to jump on top of him?

“I know you’re just dying for my cock to be buried deep inside you right now, but you’re going to have to wait. That’s your punishment.”

With your eyebrows drawn together, you suddenly felt very stupid standing there topless while he continued to jack off.

“What the hell…what do you mean? Punishment for what?”

“For walking around all bitchy and complaining about everything. All while throwing your body in my face and leaving me high and dry.”

“What!? You’re the one that has been the asshole –”

“Shut up, sweetheart. I don’t need to hear your mouth. I just need to look at you. Now drop your pants.”

It took a minute for your mind to comprehend just what the fuck was going on here. Five Hargreeves, your friend turned enemy turned…jack off partner?...was ordering you around like you were his own personal interactive porno mag. And you fucking liked it.

As you started unbuttoning your shorts, you gave him a lopsided smile. “So, how long have you been using me as your whack-a-thon inspiration?”

“I could ask you the same,” he snarked back before working just a little harder when your pants came off.

“Since about 3 months in,” you admitted with a shrug, pushing your panties all of the way off.

“Fuuuck,” Five groaned loudly, closing his eyes briefly before scanning your body hungrily. “I think I lasted 2 weeks.”

You laughed, leaning back against the table with your hands behind you as you pushed out your chest. When your eyes caught his again, you let out a soft whimper.

“Damnit…I really want to fuck you right now.”

“I know, darling,” he responded, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’ve made that quite obvious.”

Neither of you said anything more for a moment. The room was filled with the sound of your collective heavy breathing and the slapping noises as Five jacked himself hard and fast. You could see the beads of pre-cum forming around the head. On a whim, you decided to lean in, bending down with your mouth open and tongue out, to daintily lick up the tempting drops. Five growled and flung his head back again while you gave one more flick of your tongue over the slit and backed away again.

“Finger yourself,” he grunted out.

When you smirked, licking all four of your fingers before lowering them between your legs, the sound Five made, a shaking, guttural sound, had you thinking he was on the verge of blowing his load. But he only seemed to concentrate harder, working his fist over his thick shaft. You watched as his thumb traced the underside of his swollen tip, the veins that ran from top to bottom prominently on display. You had never really thought the sight of a man pleasuring himself in front of you would be that hot, but the wetness dripping out of you right now proved that maybe it just depended on the man.

Because watching Five unabashedly fuck himself; his left hand tight around his cock and his hips jerking up in response; the tendons in his forearm taught and straining; his hair hanging messily around his face, his eyes never leaving yours; had you more worked up than you had ever been in your life.

“Fuck, Five,” you moaned as your own hand began to move through your slick folds.

“Damn it, I’m going to come. On your knees,” he growled through clenched teeth.

You dropped down without a second thought, just blindly following his orders. Your hand was still working furiously, and you were unsure if he wanted you to suck his dick or not, so you just waited for further instructions. When he groaned loudly and shifted forward in the chair, his own hand moving fast, you realized what he was going to do.

“Don’t you dare come on my face,” you rasped out. You removed your fingers from yourself so that you could lean back, exposing your chest at a better angle.

With a strangled moan that sounded like some sort of wounded animal, Five bit at his bottom lip while he came; long ropes of cum covering your chest and dripping down your stomach as he unloaded onto you again and again. You watched his face as it contorted in orgasmic bliss before finally relaxing again, his hand slowing, and his body easing back into the chair.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered through heaving breaths; eyes still closed. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

As you knelt before him, covered in his semen, and still horny, you frowned. “Good for you.”

When he opened his eyes, he had the nerve to laugh and he shook his head. “Give me a minute, ok? I might have a fairly quick refractory period, but it’s not immediate.”

“Hmm, yeah. Likely story,” you said under your breath, although your mouth twitched up with amusement as you stood up. “I’m going to use our most precious resource to wash up.”

“Use it sparingly,” Five reminded you.

“I think I’ll use as much as I want, considering it’s your cum that’s currently drying all over my tits right now.”

“Fair,” Five said with a breathy laugh.

After you found one of the clean rags that doubled as a washcloth, you dipped it in the bucket of cool water and started to wipe at your chest. Five watched you bend over, ringing out the cloth and letting the water run down your breasts and abdomen. His refractory period may not have been instant, but watching you like that was most definitely speeding the process along.

While you were enjoying giving him this show, what you really wanted was a little more satisfaction than just watching him jerking off. With your body as cum-free as it was going to be for the moment, you sauntered back over to Five who was still sitting in the same chair; pants open and semi-hard dick out. When you stood in front of him, he looked up at you through the fringe of hair covering his eyes, that damn smirk of his playing on his lips. Without even thinking, you hauled your right hand back and smacked him across the face.

As he raised a hand to his stinging cheek, he glared up at you. “What the hell was that for?”

With a smile, you straddled his lap, draping both arms over his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him. After biting at his bottom lip, you pulled back.

“That was for stranding me here in this hell hole.” You kissed him again, tugging hard at his hair at the back of his head. “And for being the world’s biggest prick.” Your groin slid over his hard cock and he grunted. “And for looking so fucking hot all the time.”

Five grabbed your chin in his hand, holding you steady as he gazed into your eyes; his deep green ones sparkling as that arrogant look crossed his face again. Gripping your ass tightly with both hands, Five stood up, taking you with him as he slammed your body down onto the rickety kitchen table. When your back hit the wooden top with a thud, the pedestal holding it up wobbled dangerously underneath. You huffed out a loud breath from the impact.

Standing between your legs that were still wrapped around his waist, Five reached down between you, grasping his hard cock and rubbing the tip against your clit. When you gave a tiny whimper, he nodded.

“I’m sorry I got you stuck here. And I’m working on being less of a prick. As for looking hot all the time? That I can’t help so much,” he said with a grin, continuing to massage your slit by running his dick up and down, spreading your wetness over both of you.

“Asshole,” you rasped after sucking in a loud gulp of air. Your hands clutched at the edge of the table and your hips rocked against him.

He shook his head, closing his eyes with a moan before locking onto yours again. “No. If I were an asshole, I would have done what I’ve been dying to do for months now.”

“Which is?”

“Sliding into bed with you in the middle of the night and waking you up with my dick shoved between your legs.”

Your head tipped back as you tried to push yourself harder into his cock that was continually sliding over you in just the right spot. “Oh shit, Five…I wish you would have.”

“You’d like that, huh?”

You nodded. “I’d still have kicked your ass, but not before I’d let you fuck my brains out.”

“How about I fuck your brains out now and we can discuss kicking my ass later?”

“Sounds good,” you breathed out.

Five used his hand to guide himself inside of you. Once the head of his cock was inside, he thrust himself into you, impaling you on his sizeable dick, and watching your face for your reaction.

“Oh god…” you cried, gritting your teeth against the intensity.

“You ok?” he asked as his hands traveled over your thighs, sides, and hips.

You nodded. “Yeah. Definitely ok. Fuck, that feels good.”

With a self-satisfied smirk, Five grabbed your ass tightly with both hands, squeezing each cheek hard and digging his fingers into your flesh. When he started to guide you by pushing and pulling you over his shaft, you let him take full control of your body. With your arms splayed to the sides and your head tipped back against the table top, you wanted him to break you down; strip you of your inhibitions, and make you his.

“Shit…” he hissed through his teeth. “I need…fuck…I need more of you.”

Without warning or consent, he pulled you roughly up by one hand before pulling out of you and yanking you off the table to standing again. Not sure what his game plan was, you just stood there until he stepped out of his pants that had dropped around his ankles, and held you tightly to him. With a long kiss that made you momentarily forget where you were, he pulled back again.

“Floor,” he gasped.

Despite having a perfectly good bed in the other room, you were thinking the same thing he was. There was no time for relocation. You needed him inside of you again. Immediately. Hands clutching at one another, you both clumsily dropped to the floor. There was a moment of ungraceful maneuvering while you hastily repositioned yourself, but once Five was on his back and you were mounting him again, his dick slid inside once more and you let out a high-pitched whine.

In between grunts and whimpers as you started to move your hips, you attacked his mouth, face, and neck with kisses. Eventually, one of his hands came to rest in your hair. When you looked him in the eyes, he was smiling. Not his normal, asshole smirk. An actual, affectionate smile.

“I’m not sure why we waited this long,” he said before kissing you deeply, while also bucking his hips up, driving his dick in harder.

“Because we hated one another,” you explained as he sucked kisses onto your neck.

“Not always…fuuckk…” he moaned when you slammed harder on top of him.

“I kind of don’t hate you now.”

Five laughed and squeezed one of your breasts in his hand, hard enough to make you hiss through your teeth.

“Five….” you whined.

“Keep fucking me, baby. Harder.”

You were fucking him as hard as you possibly could. So hard that you were seriously concerned about the health of your knees as they bore most of your weight and dug into the hard dirt floor of your crappy kitchen. But that didn’t stop you. Riding his dick like it was somehow essential to your existence, you had never wanted anyone more than you did right then. You couldn’t control the loud cries and broken sobs that filled the small kitchen, and Five wasn’t exactly being quiet either.

“Oh shit, honey…please keep doing that…I’ve wanted this so badly.”

After one more long kiss, you could feel your body start to reach its climax. As Five grasped your hips again, working you over even faster, you let yourself go with a broken moan that got louder the more your body reacted to his. With your back arched, head tipped back, and your hips twitching wildly, Five clenched his teeth and looked down between your bodies. He could see the white lather of your arousal coating his cock. With a husky growl, Five pushed you down and came inside you.

Gasping for air, you collapsed into him, chests heaving against one another. He held you loosely, his hands idly caressing your back and hair.

“Five?” you panted; nuzzling your nose and mouth into the side of his sweat-damp neck.

“Yeah?”

“If you had been fucking me like that this whole time, these last several months could have been much more enjoyable.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “If I were more confident in my time travel skills, I would go back and remedy that.”

As your playful kisses traveled over his neck and cheek, you gave him one last, deep kiss on his mouth before pulling back again. You stared deeply into his eyes that you only just now realized were so easy to get lost in.

Moving a stray piece of hair from his forehead, you smiled sweetly. “While I definitely would not mind more of your amazing dick action, I am going to murder you if I have to spend one more day in this strawberry hellhole.”

Five matched your snarky grin with his own, and smacked your ass swiftly. “Off.”

Rolling your eyes, but not able to hide the blush that dusted your cheeks again when he took that tone with you, you unfurled yourself from his body and stood up. Offering a hand out, you helped Five to his feet.

“While the thought crossed my mind to leave you in the dark just so I can get some more action, I don’t have the heart. Look,” he said as he pointed to his notebook that had just recently been pinned under your body on the table.

When you looked closer at his illegible scrawls, you frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“I did it.”

You looked back over at him with raised eyebrows. “Did what?”

“Found our way home. While you were out getting water, I figured it out.”

As the realization of what he was saying washed over you, you shrieked and threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling his damp, naked body into yours. “Five! Oh my god, you did it! We can go home?”

He nodded, a giant smile growing over his face. “I think so. And I think I figured it out so that we will have time to stop the whole mess that was starting to go down before we left, too. I think we can save the world.”

“Oh my god! This is amazing!” You pulled him tighter and kissed him hard on the lips, still smiling. “Five, you’re amazing!” Then a thought came to you and you tilted your head to the side. “Hang on…if you figured this out while I was out getting water…were you really jerking off to thoughts of me, or just your own mathematical genius?”

Five shrugged with that sexy, lopsided smile of his. “Can’t it be a little of both?”

“Holy shit,” you laughed. “Let’s get the fuck out of here and go home.”

Five pulled you close with a jerk, his arm around your waist and his hand resting securely on the small of your back. With a look that made your heart flip in your chest and your knees weak and wobbly, Five leaned in to kiss you, biting gently at your lips before pulling away and rubbing his cheek across yours.

“Why leave now? We have all the time in the world and things were just getting good,” he said, his voice low and smooth; the rush of his hot breath down your neck sending shivers down your spine.

“Ok,” you breathed out before tipping your head back so he could access your neck. “What’s a few more days?”

#five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five x reader #number five x you #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number five smut #five hargreeves smut #number five fanfic #five hargreeves fanfic #smutty fanfiction #smut #reader request #badkittywrites

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teaboot · 17 days ago

Note

Bonjour Teaboot! I'm writing a fic with a Canadian character and wanted to ask you - is learning French mandatory in school? At what age/grade do you start learning? What sort of level of fluency do most students usually reach in school? Do you learn France French or Quebec French? Merci beaucoup!

Taking French as a class is mandatory, yes, (if your school doesnt have other second-laguage options, thanks for the correction, I'd forgotten) but almost nobody becomes fluent in public school unless they do French immersion.

The French is Qébecois French, and like super duper basic ass shit like "are, have, go, do" conjugations and a fee basic phrases, plus some words for table, ceiling, chair, library, hospital, whatever.

In elementary school, I don't think we did much- My english schools taught us how to sing the national anthem in English and French as well as ASL, but I've completely forgotten the ASL and most of the French. Normally we'd sing it in English and then switch to French for the last few lines, idk why.

The average highschool graduate knows, "Hello, my name is", "yes", "no", "where is the library", and a couple random words and swears. (Swears were not part of the curriculum.)

I chose to do French immersion stsrting in grade 6, so what happens THERE is you speak English and throw in whatever French words you know (affectionately referred to as "franglais"), then slowly use more and more French until about grade 7-9 where speaking English is no longer allowed in class. (I got detention a few times for chatting in English.)

One funny thing about early French classes in immersion- we had to ask to use the bathroom in French (esque-je peux aller a la toilette, if i remember correctly) and one time a kid said it wrong (esque-je peur à la toilette) which kind of sort of translates to "Am I afraid of going to the bathroom?" Which was, frankly, hilarious, and not just because he used to throw shit at my head all the time

Popular French words among English students are "pomplemousse" (Pomp-LA-Moose, Grapefruit) "Granouille" (Gran-oo-ee, Frog) "Phoque" (Fock, Seal) and "Arrêt" (A-rett, often intentionally mispronounced as "a rat", Stop)

Common French assignments in Englush schools are talking with a partner about your summer vacation, reading short paragraphs to the class, using smalltalk words in proper contexts, naming pizza toppings, singing songs about conjugation, etc.

Common French assignments in French schools are translating chapters from books written in English, writing short fiction stories, correcting incorrect sentences, reading French books, writing essays, etc.

In BC at least you need to take French or choose another language if it's available at your school? I think my mom took Russian growing up, idk, you just need a second languahe

But I haven't actually been fluent in... God, about 12 years or so now?

I van read enough to passably understand slow speech and simple books, but not enough to articulate myself past very simple concepts and ideas- directions, questions asking for help, etc, and my grammar is.... bad.

Hope this helps?

#Canada

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trulyumai · 7 months ago

Text

To Love and Forget

Pairing: Messmer x Reader

synopsis: The red haired knight didn’t love easily, but with his wife, it was thoughtless.

Warnings: None

A/N: Can you tell this man has me in a trance? Cause I’m Messmerized ;) (Okay I’m sorry enjoy the story)

Will his wife adore him, even with the scorched bodies left in his wake?

“We should visit soon, my love. I need to restock the kitchen.”

Messmer sat by the fire, watching as crimson and amber flames caressed the wooden logs. It crumbled under such intense heat, yet he observed regardless, as the pile turned to ash.

His beloved wife stirred a worn silver pot in the kitchen. The aroma of something savory wafted, momentarily drawing him from his troubled thoughts.

“Hm? Where to?”

Pale fingers brushed the man’s chin lightly, out of habit.

Truthfully, he hadn’t been listening as attentively as usual. On any other occasion, Messmer would be beside her, aiding and showering his wife with kisses as he deemed fit. She would giggle, flashing her bright smile, and likely try to push him away before resuming her culinary duties.

But this night was different

His patience wore thin; and so did his soldiers. They lay fallen in the yellowed wheat fields, swords piercing their backs. A surprise attack had sealed their fate, led by whom? Messmer didn’t know, flames began to dance across his pink and white knuckles with a methodical rhythm.

“The town, my love! I ran out of yeast the night before.”

“The town?” The knight gripped his knee harshly with his right hand. Unbeknownst to him, his wife hummed in agreement and turned to gaze at him.

“Mmh, I thought I would go in the morning. Save myself the trouble for—”

“Darling, I’m sure whatever you think you need can wait.”

His neck turned slightly towards her, earning a frown. She grasped the light blue apron around her middle, looking confusedly at her husband through her lashes. The room grew unbearably warm, a telltale sign of Messmer’s anger—disappointment, occasionally.

She could see his blazing eyes from here. Hells, they illuminated most of the living room.

“But… darling, our—”

“Enough. Wife.”

He stood taller now; she had to crane her neck back to meet his fiery gaze.

“It’s not safe. You’ll wait.”

Messmer approached, his maroon hair swaying with each step. In seconds, he was before her, appearing torn between worry and contempt.

She refused to meet his gaze any longer, unable to comprehend his displeasure.

Yet Messmer persisted. His index finger traced the skin around her chin, urging it upward with gentle pressure.

Now he stood with a gaze of love, mingled with sympathy. How swiftly he could change—she would never understand. His emotions had become less predictable lately; just the other day, he incinerated a field when a direbear had ventured too close.

She had regarded him then with the same eyes—worry, concern. He hadn’t acknowledged it, merely placing his hand back on her waist and continuing.

Just a he was doing now, ignoring the present.

“Forgive me, my love, I’ve been ah— distracted.” Noticing the change in atmosphere, his fingers found home in her hair, they stroked and smoothed over it with newfound patience.

“Distracted?” Her head rested upon his hand now, it engulfed it instantly.

“With what?”

He laughed.

It was small— and not the humorous kind.

“It’s nothing that should ail you, darling.”

His form bent over, and she felt the man’s forehead tap hers adoringly.

His eyes stared right into her own, they were half lidded and the knight held a light smile upon his face.

“Let me do the worrying, hm?”

His nose bumped with hers, and soon their lips touched. She felt his breath waft across her lips— her cheeks.

It was warm, and smelled of a cider he had made earlier that day.

“Kiss me, darling?” He pleaded.

And who was she to deny such a man of power?

The girl leaned in, now on her tiptoes as her soft mouth collided with his chapped one.

The maroon knight let out a groan, his knees almost buckled for how much he had to hold back from the poor girl.

So as a distraction, he pulled away, and began to kiss and suck the skin of her neck, making his way to her perfect jawline.

“But what about ah— “

A light kiss.

“The food—“

Another bite.

His chin met her shoulder, his lips grazed the bottom of her ear.

“Should you worry about that now, dear wife?”

His voice was deep, gravelly from the amount of lust bestowed upon his body.

The woman squeaked, embarrassed such an action would fluster her so.

“Its just ah— what would we do for to— morrow?"

Sharply, his arms sagged down, and his hands met with the back of her legs.

Quickly he acted, and pulled each of her legs across his muscled torso.

Now face to face, the man walked backwards, towards the well worn stairs leading to their shared bedside.

She laughed, her head bobbed to the side and he couldn’t help but let out a timber one of his own.

His wife’s arms looped around his wide shoulders, and met just behind his neck.

“Do not concern yourself with such frivolous tasks, my love.” He began his kisses once more,

each laid a different love bite.

One pink

One purple

“For tonight, I found my feast, mmh?”

She poked at the pale man’s cheek.

“Who knew you could hold such a flirtatious remark?” She teased, and Messmer clicked his tongue before tossing her lightly upon the mattress.

His wife’s hair engulfed the pillows, it surrounded her like a halo and he swore he’d remember such an image for the rest of his days. No matter the cost.

He’ll see her eyes before his future slumbers

Hear her laugh before the numerous fights to come on the battlefield

Eventually, when his last breath graces his lips, he’ll taste her there, feel the breath of hers brush past his vicinity.

He’ll remember such love filled eyes

He’ll remember what she smelled like— elder flowers and apples.

He’ll remember she loved him.

And that he loved her.

#messmer x reader #messmer elden ring #messmer the impaler #Messmer the impaler x reader #elden ring x you #Elden ring #video game x reader #elden ring dlc

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cosmicsully · 1 year ago

Text

OBSESSED WITH YOU

aged up!Neteyamx aged up!human(f)!reader

Summary: In which…. Neteyam crosses paths with a human, but what is that sudden obsession with her, where did that need to protect her come from?

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff, Y/N’s personal space is quite literally violated by Neteyam, Y/N is the first Human Neteyam has ever seen, Neteyam barely speaks/understands English, kissing, slight make out, lowkey unrealistic storyline lmao

My Masterlist <3.

What are you called? = fyape syaw fko ngar Stay calm = mawey beautiful: (of people) = sevin take it off = kämunge tsal I want to see = Oe new ne kame hurry up = win säpi nefä so soft = nìftxan 'ango

I hope you enjoy! If you do, feel free to reblog, I might consider writing more parts to this :) <3

I can still remember how it happened. The day that I met Neteyam still lingers in my mind, the young Na´vi boy consuming my attention at all times.

About a week ago, I can still feel the soft breeze of air flushing against my legs, I remember smelling the green plants that had just been drowned in the heavy rain the previous night. The loving light of the warm sun embraces my figure as I walk across a muddy path, trying not to step on any kind of animal. I was outside although I was not allowed to leave the lab. Secretly slipping out of the back door, the mask that is pumping oxygen into my lungs well secured on my face, as I made it my new goal to explore Pandora further.

It is a memory I cherish. The adrenaline that runs through my veins as I took one step after the other, putting as much space as possible between me and the lab.

With the feeling of well-secured safety and no one having caught me fleeing from my home, I slowed my steps, taking in my beautiful surroundings. All kinds of exotic colorful plants surround my form, my eyes darting to one and then another, trying to see everything all at once. My ragged breathing slowed down as I sprinted across the mud, my feet now slightly covered in it.

I can’t help but feel joy consume me whole.

The beauty of Pandora yet again swallowed me, pulling me in. I let my feet work on their own, deciding on taking a small walk to find new interesting and unexplored corners. My fingertips glide against a pulsating bluish plant, as it vibrates against my hand in return, letting myself smile at the uncommon feeling.

This world is so alive.

It is beautiful, I hope its owners treat it well, with respect and cherish it just as I do. Although from the stories I have been told, Na’vi are very spiritual species who inhabit these forests. And now that I think of it, I have never truly seen a real Na’vi.

Dreamwalkers don’t count.

Not letting my mind linger on the thought of facing a real Na’vi, I continued my exploration, It felt like mere minutes, but because it was slowly becoming darker around me it must have been at least a few hours. The only sound that reaches my ears is my breathing from behind the thin glass that is covering my entire face, and the nature that I’m currently moving in. Deciding that I have seen enough for today and that Norm is most likely worrying about my well-being, I take a turn and walk to the path I have been walking all along and slowly but surely make my way back to the lab.

Just as I took a few steps, I heard a quiet huff and leaves moving behind a tree a few feet away from me.

Midway through me turning my head, a blue figure emerges from the bushes. There he stands. A tall male Na’vi. His stripes-covered skin glows underneath the small amount of light that is still falling on Pandora.

He is beautiful.

So beautiful the nature around me is no longer on my mind. All my focus and attention is now drawn to him as I see his fist tightening around a weapon that is firm in his right hand.

With quick movements, he is pointing an arrow at me.

“Wait- Wait- Wait-“ I start as his face wears an angry expression, his frown-covered face facing my direction. I can see his ears perk up at the words that left my mouth. The foreign language fills his head as he decides on killing or spearing me.

“fyape syaw fko ngar?” he hisses, flashing his fangs at me. His white teeth sparkle in the sun as he takes a big step closer to me. His sudden movement made me trip over, my backside making contact with the now slightly dried ground. Him now towering over me even more, his height is scary.

“I- I’m sorry I don’t understand you, please talk slower,” I say, trying to speak slowly, he probably doesn’t understand my words. He tilts his head in confusion, his eyes widening as he takes in my form. Here I am, halfway sitting up in the slightly muddy forest of Pandora. My eyes are fixated on the Na’vi that is towering above me.

“fyape. syaw. fko. ngar?” he repeats, now trying to talk as slow as I did. His pronunciation is now much clearer, his eyes squinting close as if he can see the wheels whirring behind my eyes. This situation throws me back multiple years, remembering the Na’vi lessons we were put through at the mere age of ten. He must have said something about me. Asking about my age? No that would not add up to the situation I’m currently in. Maybe he asked what my name is. That makes way more sense, him emerging from the forest, probably taking me in as a threat.

Slowly, I raise my hands on either side of my head a little, to show that I have no weapons on me, and don’t mean any harm to anyone. At my gesture his ears stand up, their previous position flattened against his head long gone. While doing so, his curiosity must have grown, he lowers his weapon, no meaning to harm me for now. The unknown Na’vi male lowers himself into a crouching position, as he fixates his bow on his back and secures the arrow back in its holder. With me still staying put on the ground, he starts to crawl over my much smaller form to take in my face.

His expression is still confused, but the curiosity must be getting a hold of him. He slowly makes his way above me, his face getting closer to mine, I can feel his warm breath hitting my cheek, his sparkly yellow eyes boring into my own. Pupils now grown bigger and bigger with each second that passes.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, my questioning tone must have shown him that I asked a question. He shakes his head in a way to tell me that he has no idea what I just said, but he doesn’t leave his current position, instead, he’s only inching closer to my body. His face slowly moved to the left side of my face, flattened nose touching my cheek and slowly moving down to my neck. His way of moving and actions remind me of an animal, I can feel him take a deep breath through his nose when it hits my pulse point. It’s like he’s taking in my scent, trying to burn it into his brain to never lose the smell of me.

His actions makes a shudder run down my spine, a shaky breath leaving my mouth only now realizing that I have been holding my lungs oxygen-free for the past minute, them now aching and burning for more.

He breathes me in again, this time with eyes closed, my scent filling his nostrils. My breathing stays unsteady, his presence making my heart quicken in my chest, he seems to notice that, his eyes now fixated on my chest, watching it rise and fall again. When my eyes caught his never leaving my chest, a frown forms on my face, my mouth gaping at him and my arms moving to cover my chest. Slightly uncomfortable under his stare that is on one of my most intimate parts.

He quickly shakes his head and uses one of his three-fingered hands -that is at least twice as big as mine- to move them away, his now gained free access to my chest making him move his head closer, the side of his face making contact with me, his ear hovering above my heart. My heartbeat echoes in his head, its beating pumping hot blood through my veins. Although he does not seem to have the intention to hurt me in any way, my heart doesn’t slow its fast beats. His heavy head makes contact with my chest, I can feel him resting his head completely.

He stays put for a few seconds, the sound of soft breaths leaving his nose hit my ears. My heart still hammers in my chest, continuing to reveal my unsure feelings about the moment and this stranger who is quite literally breaking the definition of personal space. He stirrers up removing his ear from my chest, now much softer yellow eyes meeting mine.

“Mawey.” he whispers. His soothing voice makes it seem like a sweet gesture, the way he talks, the way his eyes move from me to my chest, no, to my heart, its like he wants to tell me to relax. The next thing that catches his attention is the oxygen mask that covers my slightly blushing face. With one of his fingers he taps against the glass, the tap rather harsh as it shoots through the glass and right to my ears echoing softly.

"Neteyam." he speaks up, the pronunciation lingering in my mind. As he speaks, he points the finger that just tapped my mask to his chest, gesturing to himself, it seems to be his way of introducing himself to me.

"Y/N." I say telling him my name. His ears perk up as my voice hits him.

"Y/N…" he tries to pronounce my name just like I did, but fails miserably. I can´t help myself but let a giggle slip past my lips at his terrible attempt at pronouncing my name, squinting my eyes closed in the process. He doesn´t exactly laugh at my reaction, but what seems to be a small smile makes its way across Neteyams face. I like the way my name sounds when he speaks.

"Sevin." he whispers pointing at me again. His hand glides downwards to my own and he takes a look at it, his eyes fixated on my little finger. He slowly but surely wraps two of his fingers around it, completely engulfing my pinky with his. His hand is huge compared to mine. If he wanted to, he could cover my entire hand with his and nothing of my hand would be visible.

"Sevin?" I ask, questioning his last words, why did I barely pay attention when we were told simple words that are commonly used by Na´vi?

"Beautiful?" he now repeats, his accent thick as he tries to translate his words.

"You mean me?" I ask a little unsure, it is not unknown in the lab that Na´vi and humans don´t usually interact with one another, let alone find any interest in each other. He points his finger against my chest again, still trying to get me to understand that he thinks I´m pretty.

I can´t help but blush at his actions, not quite used to being complimented by someone.

"You´re beautiful too" I answer, already aware of the fact that he probably doesn´t understand what I just told him. So I point my finger at his chest just like he did to me and say

"Sevin."

His eyes fall to my pointer finger that is currently resting against his chest, his hands now following his eyes, a blue hand yet again engulfing my own. I feel a certain warmth spread through my chest.

Am I supposed to feel like this?

Probably not.

No, definitely not.

Then why does his presence feel so good? Why do I feel this special security with him? When his warm eyes meet mine?

His attention is now back on my face, the way he is now directly in front of me, allows me to take a closer look at his facial features. His yellow, big, cat-like eyes are pulsating with warmth and softness, his slightly flattened nose wrinkling when he senses new smell. He seems to be studying me just as I do him.

"kämunge tsal" he whispers, now again tapping against my oxygen mask.

Although I could not exactly translate his spoken words in my head, it must have been something about my mask. I shake my head hastily, if his intentions are about me taking it off he can forget it.

"Oe new ne kame" he urges me on, his eyes filled with curiosity and desperate pleading.

"Off," he says quickly his demanding tone fitting to his accent, his hand already finding the bottom of the mask and lifting it off of my face. His sudden actions make me gasp and quickly breathe in, to catch another wave of oxygen.

The mask is now all the way off, Neteyam places it on one of his muscular tights, but his vibrant eyes are darting across every moving muscle on my face. He studies me carefully as if he is afraid of breaking me with a grip that might be too firm for my body.

His left-hand moves to the right side of my head, the warm palm of his softly meeting me. His palm swallows half of my skull, it’s like a puzzle fitting, his piece connecting with mine. A few seconds later I have a sort of ticklish feeling against my upper thigh, his strong tail curling twice around it. The movement makes me blush, I feel my cheeks and half of my neck warming. It’s like Neteyam is trying to be as close as possible, though I can not really tell why.

His face inches closer to mine, he’s so close again that I can feel his breath on my lips, his eyes dare to look at them for a quick moment but just as he meets them he averts his gaze again. I can’t help it but copy his movement, my eyes darting down to his lips.

I can feel the atmosphere between us get turned upside down within one quick glance at his lips, a sort of tension building up.

What I’m doing here is insane.

I should be home by now.

Just as I can feel him getting even closer, the need for oxygen is growing and growing, my lungs aching for relief. My eyes shoot down to his leg hastily grabbing the mask that my body so desperately seeks. The moment it hits my face I take a deep breath, my heart beating at a quickening speed. Neteyam groans in response his hand falling from my head, instead both of his hands land on either side of my waist. As I try to steady my breathing, he pulls my smaller form into his lap.

"win säpi nefä" he lowly whines, making my eyebrows raise in confusion at his whining. He waits a few seconds for my chest to raise at a normal speed again, his eyes boring through mine as if he is asking for permission, although I can not quite tell for what.

"Enough" he orders now quite needy ripping the mask off my face, but before I can respond in annoyance, warm lips are pressed against my very own. My eyes widen at his sudden actions, I can`t hold back the quiet unexpected sigh that sounds like a soft moan leaving my lips.

Neteyam responds eagerly, his tongue now parting my lips ready to claim my mouth, the taste of me lingering on his tastebuds, he pulls me closer by my hips, the close proximity making him groan. The kiss quickly becomes feverish and passionate as his desire for more keeps growing. His hand moves to the back of my head keeping me in place to continue his almost assault on my lips. His rough palms skim down my waist to hook around my hips, pulling me flush against his chest.

It is something I have never felt before, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making my head dizzy. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen that was making me feel lightheaded.

I can´t help but try to pull away from him, his much stronger grip on me only tightening in response, in order to gain focus again I let my fingers tangle into his braids, softly tugging his lips away from mine. Neteyam growls in protest, chasing my lips with his but I lean back and reach down to put the mask that dangles down my body back on my face. As I keep filling my lungs with air, I look up through the thing glass with heavy-lidded eyes, my chest still heaving and my heart thrumming in my chest.

Neteyam pants softly, just as breathless as I am.

Behind Neteyam I can see his tail swaying with excitement from side to side, his own heavy eyes now focused on a part of my neck. He quickly connects his lips with my neck, softly coating it with open-mouth kisses. With his other hand, he gently tugs on my hair to expose my neck to his mouth. Not caring about the noises that could slip out of my mouth, I let a soft moan leave my lips at the feeling. That seems to urge him on further, his lips traveling from my neck, to my collarbone and lastly to my pulse point. It is the place he breathed me in earlier, he growls at the memory, lips quickly working at sucking on my delicate skin.

I close my eyes at the feeling of his soft but rough lips as they work against my sensitive skin, my mouth slightly agape at the pleasure that is shooting through every inch of my body.

"nìftxan 'ango" the Na´vi male moans against my neck, at the sound of a twig breaking somewhere in the distance, Neteyam quickly breaks away from my sensitive skin. His tail tightened around my thigh in a protective manner.

"Come" he hushes at me, now raising to his feet and full height, With one swift movement he claims my wrist in his hand sneaking around it in a soft grip. He pulls me up in no time as if I weigh nothing to him. I can feel myself hovering over the ground for a split second before he lets go of my wrist now fully placing me back on the ground I was laying on only minutes ago.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #neytiri #avatar twow #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader #loak sully #cosmicsully #fanfiction #imagines #avatar x reader #jake sully

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peoniesnro · 1 month ago

Text

After the End| One shot

Sequel to Closure

Synopsis- You’ve lived your whole life haunted by monsters—relentless, painful, and unyielding. But your life changed at a winter carnival, when a fortune teller told you that your fate was woven with a man you’ve never met before. Kim Taehyung. Your life changed when she asked you to choose wisely this time because the last time, you and he couldn’t do it.Taehyung changed everything. He brought light to your darkness, hope to your despair. But that light came with shadows of its own. Because he wasn’t yours to keep. Now, all you want is one thing: not to fail this time. To rewrite your story and make the ending yours.

Alternatively

In which you finally get that one chance to tell each other- I love you- once more.

Paring- Kim Taehyung × Reader

Genre - Past lovers to ??/ Reincarnation

Warnings-TW- Hallucinations/ Auditory hallcinations/ Past abuse/ Suicidal thoughts. / Language/ SMUT- Make out/ Breast play/ Some public stuff/ Oral (M.recieving) (while driving)/ Oral (F.recieving)/Doggy/ Missonary/ Spoon Sex/ Unprotected Sex/Creampie/ Mutiple orgasms/ Degradation (Slut)/ Bondage/ Overstimulation/ Usage of sex toys/ INFIDELITY

Word count - 16k+

a.n/ Well, this one is requested by lovely @bubu2sworld because she thought they deserved more. So, here I am writing a sequel to my baby CLOSURE, when I never thought I will. Still, if you think the closure ended the way it should you can totally ignore this but to anyone who thinks they deserve more, this is for you. And I'm not sure if you can read this as a standalone because it's kind of connected. Anyway, thank you for the love yous showed you to the closure and I hope you'll like this one as well. ❤️

Read the original here- Closure

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now

Taehyung feels like a void. There’s an emptiness inside his body. He’s certain that he’s no longer made of flesh and bones. There are no organs. It’s just skin. Skin and the emptiness underneath it. He feels hollow. Nothing makes him full anymore. Nothing stirs him anymore. Happiness, love, fear, anger, nothing. Not even sadness. It’s empty. Or maybe it’s all sadness. Perhaps he’s lived with sadness for so long that it no longer feels like an emotion, but a part of him. It’s ripping him apart. It makes him detach from his surroundings. He almost doesn’t notice the figure that entered the living room. It’s only after that person creates a clanking sound does he tear his gaze away from the empty wall he’s been staring at.

It's her. With two wine glasses and a bottle of wine in her hand.

Birthday.

Her birthday.

Taehyung had completely forgotten it.

She has a sweet smile on her face. A smile that is enough to brighten someone else’s soul. Yet Taehyung feels nothing. Not even a flicker of warmth. He wants to see a certain cunning smile instead of that bright one. She stops midway as she takes sight of him. A sigh leaving her mouth. Despair clouding her bright features.

Taehyung is a great disappointment for everyone. He would like to change that yet doesn’t know how. He’s hopeless. Oh, how everything was just fine before that day. He would never call it cursed because no, it was a blessed day. But now, it’s bitter on his tongue that he feels bile rising to his throat.

………………………………….

Now

You sit on the rooftop of your apartment building. At the edge. You’re fifteen stories high. This is your favorite place. It’s empty and free of annoying tenants. There’s no people to ask how you’re doing when clearly, you’re doing worst.

And this is the place you hate the most at the same time. Because, when there’s no other sounds, voices in your head get so much clearer, louder, and inescapable. When there’s no one else around, the monsters who lurk around you become realistic as they’ve ever been.

This is your life. You’ve always lived with the monsters. Always get along with the voices. It has been like that since you were a little girl. Since you started living with your aunt. She never wanted you. And she made sure you knew that. When it all became unbearable, the voices and monsters came to keep your alone soul company. It’s not that they are always there. No, there were better days. There were months. Even years where you lived a normal life. You tried to get help. To make yourself better. But every time something goes wrong, they’d return. Like now. It’s been months since they’ve ever left your side. And there’s only so much pain someone can endure. Only so much sleepless nights and heartbreaks someone can bear. You’ve reached your limit.

You need this unbearable pain to end. Want it to be gone. You want to sleep peacefully even if it’s for a second. You want the bloody lady who’s waiting patiently for your demise, with her face beaten up to a pulp, to leave you alone. She won’t. No matter how much you beg. You hate her.

“Jump! End it. Do it now. You think this pain will go away on its own? It won’t. You’ll suffer forever unless you listen to me.”

She won’t leave you alone till you jump. She has your aunt’s voice.

This is not her. Right?

“No one needs you. No one ever did. You’ve been a burden since the day you were born. Do you think anyone’s life would be worse without you? They’d be better off.”

“Fucking leave, me alone!”

“Jump!”

Oh, how tempting that is. She will leave you if you listen to her.

“Nobody needs you.”

Oh, you know.

“Nobody loves you.”

Taehyung did. He did, right? He loved you. It’s just how things have turned out.

“JUMP!”

…………………………………

Six Years Ago

Taehyung lived a pretty normal life. Ordinary, yet undeniably happy. He had everything. A college degree. An acceptable and highly paid job. Idiotic friends who he loved dearly. Good parents. And above all, a girlfriend who loved him like he was her sun and moon. He lived his life to the fullest. Their story wasn’t the stuff of movies. He didn’t meet her while saving the world, nor were they enemies-turned-lovers, childhood best friends, or two strangers sharing a single bed for a night.

It was simple. Taehyung met her at a Halloween party at a frat house. She looked beautiful. He asked her out and she said yes. And they started dating. Everything was going fine. Until it wasn’t.

Only if he knew that one moment, a fleeting encounter is enough to change someone’s life, he would never have said yes to Namjoon’s invitation to join him at a winter carnival. Well, there was no way he could see the future. He said yes. And he waited till Namjoon arrive. He was with his girlfriend and other two best friends. They laughed and joked. Smoked and waited. He was living his best life. Love of his life pressed against his body. Surrounded by people he loved.

That’s when Namjoon came. Not alone though. He had company, in a shape of a woman who looked like a lilliput next to his friend.

You.

Wrapped in a winter coat that was too big for you. Had a beanie that covered your hair that made Taehyung wondered what color it was. Had big eyes that doesn’t had any light in them. You weren’t smiling. You weren’t bowing. If anything, you stayed stony. Dull. Annoyed.

But hell, how he felt a skip in his heartbeat. Taehyung never believed in the movie effect. It was a dramatic lie they created. In real life, there’ll be no slowing down of time. The world won’t disappear for a fractured second. Sounds won’t lower down into white noises. If it didn’t happen the time he met his girlfriend, then there was no chance of it happening again. He was sure about his love. How wrong he was, though. Because at that split second, it all happened. Everything slowed and blurred away so he can take a good look at you. You only turned slightly to look at him. Then you didn’t look away for that second. You hold his gaze. Taehyung felt his heart beating in his throat. He felt completely enamored by an angel whose wings were clipped. Angel who looked like the devil.

And you gave him a tiniest hint of a smile.

And in that instant, the universe seemed to realign—a stellar collision in the making.

………………………………..

Six Years Ago

You sat at a round table draped in a black tablecloth. That was the stupidest you’ve ever felt. And that was the most foolish decision you've ever made. You normally made a lot and that said everything about how stupid it was to sit inside a tent of a fortune teller. In a stupid carnival. It was the idea of the guy who was in all black. Tattoos and piercings. Later you learnt the name to be Jungkook. That day you hated his guts for forcing all of you to sit in front of a woman who wore a midnight blue cape. A hood covering her white hair. Her eyes glued specifically on you as all of you settled down. Odd. Yet, she did stare at you from the very moment you reluctantly entered the tent. Unsettling.

There were stars dangling from the tent’s ceiling and smell of burning incense gave you a headache. And the smoke had made you dizzy. It all looked funny. Everything. The woman was a fraud, you were certain. But Jungkook guy was excited about spending his money over a con-artist. You wanted to leave. Namjoon had his hand on your thigh, though.

You should’ve never agreed to Namjoon’s plans. You weren’t someone meant to be socializing. No, you were someone to isolate yourself from the people. That’s the way you helped yourself. See now, there were your own ways to deal with your own problems. That came in shapes of hallucinations and voices. You had bad and unhealthy coping mechanisms. When neither therapists nor psychiatrists could help, you found the best way to deal with them was to become a bad bitch. Tough. Bad enough so people won’t get close to you just to hurt you in the end. You became selfish so you won’t be hurt when other people are. Being the bad person gave you the control you always seek. The control you never had.

Namjoon should never have brought you there. Not just because you hated it but because that day was what caused your great dismay in the long run.

That day, without even you knowing properly you had started a journey that turned out to be pretty ugly. And beautiful. It started when Jungkook guy showed his hand toward the woman. Palm out. Hoping she would read his future. She had dismissed him. Her eyes was still on you. Felt like glowering competition to you that time. Then right at the time you were about ask ‘what the fuck is wrong with her’, she had spoken in a strained voice.

“Ah, your threads... tangled, woven too tight.”

“Sorry what?”

“Your fates, child. The strands of your lives. Twisted together, bound as one.”

“I don’t understand a shit you’re talking about.”

“You will, in time. Your destiny is knotted with his.”

She had tilted her head to her right. Silver haired man, who was the bad influence on Jungkook’s soul. The other one who had insisted this was a fun idea had perked up. You knew he was Jimin beforehand.

“What? With me?”

“No, not you, dear boy. Him.”

She had pointed a bony finger to the man who sat next to Jimin. The man who had burnt his hand earlier because he accidentally touched the butt of the cigarette he was smoking. All because he stared at you like you were a ghost. No. That wasn’t the case at all. He had stared at you like you were an angel.

You never learnt how to explain that moment. You’ve never seen him before. Not even a glimpse of him. But he had stared at you like he knew you for ages. And you had felt that too. A strange sensation in your heart. A tug. A sting. How it was odd. You never meant to smile at him. You don’t smile at strangers. But you did to him. It was strange.

Then there as you listened to an old fraud talk crap, you had notice he has mismatched eyes. He sat far away from you. The place had shitty lighting. Yet you did notice that. Maybe that was because you were at a staring contest back again. Your heart beating violently and breathing getting ragged.

“You carry the weight of a past undone. Shadows of a life lived before. A tragedy. You’ve crossed paths now to mend what was broken... or to fail once more. Beware. Cycles repeat, and pain lingers. Choose wisely this time.”

You almost didn’t hear her. The man across from you was enchanting.

……………………………….

Six Years Ago

“Here’s your drink.”

That was the first moment the man, who apparently carried unresolved issues from your past life spoke to you. While placing a hot cup of cocoa on the picnic table in front of the food stall. You were looking at the Ferris Wheel. Glinting with thousands of multicolored tiny lights. How magnificent. Yet you knew it won’t look the same in the morning. It was an allusion. Another scam. Without the tiny lights it would look hollow. Like how you were. If anyone could’ve stared deep into your soul, or if anyone could see your bare soul, they would see how ugly you were. How scarred and hollow you were. You’ve been thinking about that when the intrusion had come. You had averted your eyes from the enchanting scene of Ferris Wheel to the man who stood next to you. Had glared at him with skeptical eyes.

“Oh, sorry- Namjoon asked me to take this to you.”

“Thanks.”

You were a well-guarded person. You never allowed others to get close to you. When it was slowly happening, you made sure to hurt them enough that they’ll run away. But it was always better to never let them come close to you than hurting them later. Only exception in your life was Kim Namjoon. So, you were thoroughly annoyed when the man with black hair and mismatched eyes proceeded to sit next to you. It was only you two there.

“I didn’t invite you to join me Mister.”

“Oh, fuck, sorry, I-I…”

He had such an adorable expression. Eyes wide in panic and face starting to flush in embarrassment. You hated how your heart had pained at the sight.

“No... no... I mean that’s fine. Like, I mean, I could use some company.”

And like you’ve never made him uncomfortable; he had grinned widely. He had a boxy smile. Beautiful. You had found a split second of a moment where your guard had slipped away from you. You found it impossible to avert your gaze away from his lips.

“So, how do you think our fates are tangled up? How do you think we’re going to mend what’s broken.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you believe those bullshits too.”

“Bullshits?”

“Yes, Mister, that was a scam. That’s how she’s earning money.”

And he had grinned even more widely. You were being hostile. He didn’t deserve those kinds of harsh treatments. Hadn’t done anything wrong to you. Yet, there he was. Smiling.

“Yeah maybe... maybe not... Namjoon told me you’re a photographer?”

“That’s part time. I just love photography.”

“Well, then maybe you’ll be the photographer in my wedding. That’s how our fates are connected.”

“Oh, you’re getting married soon?”

“No, not soon but I’ll be proposing to her soon. I don’t know when but..”

“Ah!”

For no clear reason, you had felt a pain. A deep sting in your heart. You didn’t want to admit it but strangely it hurt.

“And my name’s Kim Taehyung.”

He had stretched his hand for you to shake. You didn’t. You ignored him completely. Because you felt hurt.

“I didn’t ask for your name.”

“That’s fine. It’s my choice to tell you.”

To your horror, he patted your head then. Your damn head. Over your stupid beany. You never believed the feeling of time slowing down. That moment, though, that happened. You had gaped at him with wide eyes.

His mismatched eyes were the most beautiful you’d ever seen.

And beneath one of them rested a small mole.

………………………………

Six Years ago

After months. For the first time since Namjoon returned you had a night terror that night. Wasn’t the usual one. Instead of running away from your aunt, you saw a flashing lights of a truck. Then you felt the pain. Endless pain. And there was the Taehyung. You saw him crying. Broke your heart into tiny million pieces before you open your eyes.

Your monsters returned that night.

You knew someone was under your bed.

………………………………………….

Five years ago

Taehyung never expected to see you again. He missed you, however. Taehyung didn’t think it was possible to miss someone he had met just for such a short time. To miss someone who was hostile to him for no reason. He did. He missed the stony-faced rude girl dearly. Funny, considering he had only spoken to you for ten minutes at most, exchanging barely fifty words. Yet, you haunted his memories for a year. In a good way. Taehyung thought it was because he was curious. Curious as to know what made you, you. The indifferent one. What stole your light. To know who clipped your wings. Or it was because of the fortune teller. Whatever the reason was, he couldn’t deny that he thought about you quite often.

True, Namjoon was still a best friend of his and he had all the opportunities to ask about you. Yet, he didn’t. He couldn’t—not with a girlfriend and Jungkook’s mention of you being Namjoon’s lifelong crush. He blamed all the messed-up sensations he felt on the winter air and bright lights on the carnival. He always loved the winter. Besides he was comfortable with his girlfriend. There were no reason to ruin that. Only if that was the plan of universe as well. It wasn’t.

He was at his favorite Samgyeopsal place that day. Place always had long queues in the evenings for takeouts. He could’ve ordered online. But the restaurant always messed up the online orders. Every good thing has its tiniest flaw. He stood as the fourth person in the long line when someone cut the line. Pushed their tiny self in between Taehyung and the person in front of him. A scowl formed in Taehyung’s forehead. Was about to confront them when an icy voice muttered an apology.

“Sorry but I’m late to the strip club.”

Late to where?

Then they had turned. Had looked at him with wide eyes. No light in them. Just hollow and dull.

You.

Once again, Taehyung felt the same effects. The hustle and bustle of Samgyeopsal place had vanished. Only person remaining in the room was you. Gaping at him with your mouth adorably open. And he knew you recognized him.

“Oh, you. Taehyung?”

“Uh- Hi!... Didn’t expect─”

“Aren’t you going to yell at me?”

“Yell at you for what?”

“For cutting the line?”

“Oh, it’s fine it’s you.”

“That’s bad Sailor… You need to learn to treat people fair.”

You had said something else. But he didn’t hear them. No. Something was happening to him. Something strange. He was in pain. Not physically. It was internal. His heart was aching. He wanted to hug you. Touch you. Knew you would slap his face hard enough for him to lose some of his teeth if he tried, though. That was the moment he realized he wasn’t just missing you. He was longing for you.

“Hey! Taehyung? You okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course. Bu-but I know you, so it’s fine.”

“You don’t know me at all. Three hours spent on a carnival a year ago doesn’t count.”

True. You told the truth. That was the period of time he knew you. Three hours from a long day. A year ago. Yet there he was, fighting the urge to touch you. The line was getting shorter. Sooner you would’ve been the person to take your order and vanish again. He didn’t want that. Something was pushing him to change that. At least you weren’t being so hostile toward him that day.

“Let’s dine in.”

“What?”

“I don’t know you so, let’s change that. Have dinner with me.”

Taehyung had waited with bated breath for you to turn the offer down. You didn’t. All you had done was smirk. And that smirk was cunning. It was the most beautiful he has ever seen.

………………………………

Five years ago

You should never have agreed to have dinner with a stranger. Taehyung was a stranger to you. Handsome and adorable in his sweater, yes. Yet he was still a stranger. Despite everything, you had to stick with one piece of advice your aunt gave you.

Stranger is a Danger!!!!!!

And that was the only time you disobeyed that advice.

You inspected his mismatched eyes while stuffing your mouth. The eyes you’ve missed. It wasn’t possible but you did. It was either your monsters and the voices inside your head or a pair of mismatched eyes and a mole. A boxy grin that kept you awake at night. No matter how hard you tried to keep the thoughts sunk, Taehyung always found a way.

“What?”

“Huh? Nothing. Are you sure your girlfriend won’t mind you being late?”

“Oh, not girlfriend, fiancée. Proposed to her a few months ago.”

Oh.

You had frozen. It was just like that first time. When you sat at a picnic table looking at a Ferris Wheel. It hurt to hear him say he’s about to get engaged. But that time to hear he is finally engaged; it felt like a knife piercing through your heart.

Why?

There was no reason. You didn’t even know him. You were strangers. Was that love from first sight? Bullshit. You never believed in those kinds of fairy tales. You might’ve so broken that you start to feel pain for the things you shouldn’t. But you couldn’t deny that it hurt. Couldn’t deny that you felt angry. For no reason.

“You okay?”

“Yes, of course. So, you had an engagement party and didn’t invite me?”

“Oh, no. There was no party. I just proposed to her. Had Jungkook and Jimin singing ‘All of me’. That was it.”

“Thank God, you didn’t invite me. Can’t stand those two people.”

It was a joke. A distraction from the pain you felt. Taehyung understood it. Showed you that boxy grin. Only thing it did was intensify the pain, however. You needed to leave. Wanted an escape. Felt suffocating to be in his presence. You nearly had it when you excused yourself for bathroom. But life had different plans.

“Oh, I knew it was you.”

Shaky voice had interrupted you. A voice you never wanted to hear in your entire life. You were having chills even before you turn around to confirm that the voice belonged to the same person who made your life a living hell. It was. In a blink of an eye, you were staring into the wrinkled face of your aunt. You abuser.

Despite all the effort you had put into coping with your trauma. Despite how hard you worked to develop a cold heart and a strong mind that won’t break at simple matters, you pathetically started breathing heavily. Right at the moment your eyes landed on her. A loud ‘no’ chanting inside your head. Screams starting to echo. Visions of her bloody face closing toward you starting to cloud your vision. You didn’t know she was saying something. You didn’t hear a thing. All that you heard was the venom in her voice. Over and over again. Like a mantra. The way she asked you to die.

“No… No, fuck no… get away from me.”

You had thought you were saying those words in your mind. In reality though you weren’t. It was a period you lost from your life. Where you weren’t living in the real world but inside your head. Maybe it wasn’t for a long time. But enough for you to cry a river and scream till your throat tasted like blood. You cried for your life. Begging her to save you. Then right at the time you thought there were no escape, it all vanished.

You were sitting on a cold floor of a busy restaurant. People were staring down at you with such horrified looks on their faces. Pity. Fear. You had gaped at them return. The senses finally getting on to you. Your aunt wasn’t there anymore. You felt relieved, for a moment. Then had felt helpless. You had a panic attack in front of so many people. You hated it when they looked at you like you were a wounded, caged animal. You wanted to disappear but couldn’t help the new tears escaping from you. That’s when you felt the warmth behind your back. Next you noted the arms wrapped around your petite figure. Lastly a soothing voice reached your ears.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s fine. You’re fine. I got you.”

Taehyung was gently rocking you. Like you were a child. Nobody in your entire life had held you like that. Not even Namjoon because you never fell apart in front of him. For your whole damn, painful life you had no one to hold you.

…………………………..

Five years ago

Taehyung had refused to let you go home alone. You were annoyed partially but happy mostly. It was embarrassing enough that he saw what he saw. But he didn’t leave you. No matter how hard you tried that day. Which was a great mistake. He should’ve listened to you. Should’ve left you to manage your own miserable life.

He didn’t. Even though you hated it, you had to let the guy enter your safe space. Your apartment. A place that never felt like home at all. You thought it should’ve felt more pathetic as you sat on the couch. Waiting for a stranger to bring you a glass of water. You should’ve felt more helpless to have been pampered by a stranger in your own house. Strangely though you didn’t. You felt secretly relieved. Because you weren’t alone. You knew, all the voices and monsters were about to mess up your entire night that day. There was no way they would leave you alone after what happened. So, you were grateful for him. Even though you didn’t tell him that.

But then after a few hours of just sitting there in silence, he had stood up to leave.

“Well, I should go then. She... uh- you know, I’m late.”

You panicked. Hard. So hard that you had jumped toward him. Had hold on to his arm before he could take a single step away from you. You were scared. Didn’t want to be alone. Not even for a minute. It was ridiculous how you blurted out suggestions as if it were natural. Like you knew him. As if you hadn’t acted all tough and annoyed at him earlier. The thing is, though, he made you feel safe.

“Want to hit the club with me?”

“What?”

“I mean, it’s going to be fun. Be spontaneous sometimes, sailor. You’re not getting any younger.”

“What? This is bit weird you know?”

“Well, you invited me to have dinner with you. You hold me when I was breaking apart. You sat down next to me in my own house like we knew each other for ages. And you said you wanted to change the fact that we don’t know each other. So, what’s so weird about it?”

In addition to being a bad bitch, you were a good manipulator.

“I… what club? I mean strip?”

“No need to be so worried.”

“Wait? Do you really work as a…”

“What a stripper?”

He hadn’t answered that. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips though. And it was enough to heal your scarred soul.

“No.. I’m not. I was about to go there as a punter. To a male one. But we’re not going there. We’re going to a normal one. You know, where there’s no show going on for you. Would’ve preferred the strip cub though.”

You had no intention of clubbing that night. You loved clubbing. Getting drunk. High. Stoned. Then getting laid. You did that on the worst nights, though. That night you had thought it would be a good one. Well, things always changed. Yet, Taehyung didn’t need to know that. You didn’t want him to leave you alone. You had waited with bated breath. Heart pounding violently in your rib cage. Then after some long few tortures minutes he showed you that adorable boxy smile.

“Yeah, sure why not. But why though? Why now? Wouldn’t sleep help you the best.”

“It would, but I need someone to exhaust me to sleep. So, sailor, we are going hunting.”

………………………………….

Five years ago

Taehyung didn’t know what had happened to you earlier. He didn’t know what caused it. Only that he panicked too. That he wanted to help. While you broke down the floor, he had made sure to force that old lady out of the place. He didn’t know who she was. But maybe, he thought, that she was the person who had stolen your light.

And in the end, when you asked him to join you for a club, all he wanted was for you to feel better. Couldn’t say no to your eager eyes. Or simply he was reluctant to let you go.

So, he joined you at a club. And had watched, watched, and watched. Sitting at a stool near the bar while sipping on a neat whisky. It burnt his throat, yet he couldn’t feel it. His eyes were on the dance floor. On the figure there who was tangled up with a strange man.

He felt bile rising up to his throat. Regretted ever agreeing to come with you. He felt so fucked up at the sight of you grinding shamelessly with another man. It was a mixture of feelings. He felt bothered. An urge to rip you away from the man who was squeezing your ass cheeks like there were no tomorrow. Then he felt a stir in his lower stomach. Which had nothing to do with feeling bothered. No. It had everything to do with the way his heart was beating madly. About to leap away. It had everything to do with how he couldn’t look away, no matter how much he wanted to.

You were fucking captivating. Dancing under the disco lights. Your movements were deliberate. The way you swayed your hips. The way you had wrapped your hands around the stranger’s neck. Your lips an inch away from him. Taehyung knew the stranger must be smelling the alcohol on you. Taehyung knew the stranger must be feeling your soft breaths on his lips. Knew it must be tingling. You had your perfect breasts pressed against the stranger’s chest. Taehyung knew they must be feeling so soft. You had your hips tightly pressed against the stranger. And so, Taehyung knew the stranger must be having the time of his life by feeling your soft flesh against his hardened dick.

Taehyung shouldn’t have thought about that in the first place, but he did. And it wasn’t that he thought about the way the lucky bastard might feel. No, Taehyung was simply imagining it himself. Watching you move from a distance, and he was imagining it was him. With you. It was him having the time of his life while pressing his hardened dick on to your soft skin. Hardened? Yes, he was rock hard. His pants were too tight in his crotch area. Too hard and the bulge visible that he had to turn away immediately to hide it from your view when you suddenly returned.

“Hey there sailor, enjoying the night?”

“Eh, can’t complain.”

“That’s not the answer I’m looking for. Want to join me for a dance?”

“Oh, No. No... I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Fine by me then.”

“Why’d you leave? Looked like you’ve caught your prey tonight, hunter?”

“You’ve been watching?”

“Uh- no- I- I just saw.”

“It’s fine. He is the catch but it’s a game.”

“Game?”

“Mhm. When you want to have good night- I mean a kind of night where you would fall asleep right away, you need to make them desperate.”

You leaned forward. Closer to him. You didn’t sit down on the empty stool. Bent down instead. It was a bad idea. Or maybe the bad idea was Taehyung letting his gaze averted from your face to your chest. Your low neckline was doing a poor job hiding what’s inside. Taehyung’s brain malfunctioned. His mouth went instantly dry. A whimper nearly escaped him at the sight of that delicious cleavage. Perfect. So, fucking perfect. Only he could’ve buried his face in it right there. Only if he could’ve smelled you. And you made it worse.

“So, I would give them a taste and leave Mr. Kim.”

It was a whisper against his ear. A shiver ran down his spine. It had been a great struggle for him to find his words.

“W-wow, y-you’re a vixen.”

……………………………………

Five years ago

You had frozen. Entirely. A sharp pain coursing through your entire body. Intense and unrelenting. It wasn’t entirely physical, but you felt it reverberated through every cell of your being. For a minute, it was like you were having a heart attack. And you were distraught. It felt like grief, as if you'd lost someone dear. That pain was deeply etched to your heart. You were certain that you’d never be able to escape that sensation. Even your eyes started to sting again. Pricking with unshed tears. You could’ve cried. Could’ve made a fool out of yourself for a second time that day. Taehyung had saved you, though. Distracted you with a shaky inhale of his breath. When you turned your sorrowful gaze to him, he was no longer looking at your face. His eyes were fixed on your breast. At the skin that was revealed to his eyes.

You had thought you imagined it when you saw him eyeing your cleavage earlier. He wouldn’t do that right? But he was. Shamelessly staring. And a shiver ran through your body. Made you visibly tremble. The painful sensation you were feeling replaced with something more sinful. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander. Roam across his broad figure and stop right under his torso. Fuck! He was hard. Bulge visible. His pants was straining against his hardness. You thought you had conflicting emotions at that moment. Part of you believed he wouldn’t do that. And the other part thought you might not be the reason. Then he changed it.

“Does it work every time?”

When you looked back at his eyes they were on fire. His mismatched eyes. His beautiful brown orbs were burning with desire. Your knees buckled under the intensity of that gaze.

“Course, it does. What, do you think it won’t work on you?”

It was a dangerous game you were playing. Among every little thing you couldn’t take, rejection always held the first place. You might’ve been reading the signs wrong. And the entire situation was so wrong. Not that you cared. You were a bad person. You had done far worst things in your life. However, you believed Taehyung might have cared. He seemed like a good guy. Loyal. So, you had brace yourself for the inevitable rejection when his next words came as a whisper.

“Maybe… We should try find out.”

“You want me to try that on you?”

“Please.”

That was it. It was all Taehyung’s fault. You couldn’t hold responsible for your actions. You were the bad guy, and he was supposed to be the good one. He asked for it. And you, a horny woman who was far too broken to think about morality, had no control over denying that. Above all, you really knew how to play.

“Sure thing, sailor. It’s easy, like this.”

You angled your head, so you were facing him properly. Still, bent down. Made sure you were only millimeters apart from his pink lips, when you spoke again. Wanted him to anticipate a kiss you never were about to give.

“Men are easy you know…”

You placed your hand on his shoulder. Felt smug and proud when he slightly shuddered. When his muscles tightened under your barely there touch.

“Flashing my tits always make it easier… but this way it’s better.”

Dragged your palm down through his chest. He waited patiently. Swallowed harshly. Eyes never leaving yours. You dragged your palm down, down, and down. Through the expanses of his sculptured chest and abs. Didn’t even hesitate a bit when you hovered your palm over his crotch. Fighting with yourself not to lose your control and give in right there. Kept your hand there for a few seconds.

“And this is the part I love the most, sailor.”

You changed the position of your hand instantly. The poor guy nearly whimpered. Only for a moment though. You never gave him time to mourn the loss when you were grabbing his hand.

“Please.”

You made sure you mumbled that one word in a way it spills liquid neediness into his brain. Then at the same moment you raised his hand up. Pressed his palm into your left breast. Gave him full privilege of touching your soft mound completely. He moaned. He fucking moaned. So did he understand what you meant by ‘please’. You didn’t expect him to jump into action right away. He did and you failed not to moan as well. He squeezed your soft flesh while his breathing got ragged. He did it over and over, repeatedly. You allowed that to happen for how long you have no idea. You almost didn’t want it to end. Were simply falling into an ecstasy under his touches. What brought you into reality was when his lips grazed over yours. You withdrew fast as thunder. Completely. Pushed his hand away. Took a moment to compose yourself.

“Not so easy sailor, you should try harder.”

Turned around and walked away with your heart pounding in your throat.

………………………………..

Five years ago

Taehyung had sat there motionless. He was sure his brain was broken. Oh God, everything about this was wrong—what he’d done. But his real problem lay elsewhere. Crossing moral boundaries didn’t seem to strike him as a bad thing. He had his gaze fixed on your retrieving back. On the sway of your hips. The way you never even looked back. You disappeared at a corner. He knew you went to the bathroom. There was a possibility that you might not return to him. And it hurt Taehyung. Both in his chest and lower. His cock was so hard inside his pants. Hard it hurt. Your breast felt so soft in his hand. Your breath made him sigh in relief. He felt like an animal who works on its instinct. He couldn’t control his actions. Especially when he saw that man who had you grinding your hips against him followed you.

Taehyung wasn’t prepared to see you leave with another man that night. Not after you had his cock jump at the sight of your cleavage. He worked on autopilot mode. Wasn’t seeing clear when he practically sprinted after you. Bumped on the strange man who was halfway there. Only slightly caught you disappearing through the bathroom door. Taehyung didn’t give a fuck about the sign that said it was for women. Nor did he care about the shrieks he heard from the few punters who stood near the sinks as he pushed open the door. Only thing he saw was you. Only person who existed there were you. Gaping at him with your wide eyes when he grabbed your arm and turned you around.

“Taehyung!”

“You can’t do that, Vixen. That’s so fucking cruel.”

Thats all he said to you before he crashed his lips against yours. His lips lingered for a brief second before moving against yours—desperate and rough. Felt relieved, though. Instant relief. Turned you around and pressed you against the bathroom door. You took a minute. Taehyung liked to think you were surprised. Then you gave in willingly. It was the best feeling in the world when you parted your lips without any reluctance when he brushed his tongue against your lips. Seeking permission. You tasted better than anything in the world. You smelled better than anything. You were so soft against his hard body. And you lapped against his tongue like you were gone mad. Sharing one breath and creating a mess of spit. His cock was throbbing bad. He wanted you more than he needed to breathe at that time. You pulled away first. Gasped for air.

“Do y-you realize that w-we have an audience?”

“Don’t care.”

He fell back into your lips hungrily. He was pretty sure you would’ve let him have you right there if it wasn’t for some punter saying that they minded. You were forced to withdraw. Taehyung wasn’t having it though. He needed you.

“Please Vixen.”

……………………………

Five years ago

Taehyung’s desperate plea had affected you far more than he realized. He had turned you on so hard, apparently. Had unleashed a monster. And how he loved that. You were so needy, and impatient. Pretty. Hot. Gorgeous. The most amazing thing he had ever seen.

You and he had stumbled yourself out the club. Not wanting to stop sucking each other’s lips. It was your idea to go back to your place. And he were just trying to do that, but you were so impatient. Had thrown yourself on him ever since he started driving. He’d had one drink but couldn’t bring himself to care. Wanted nothing more than to go to a place where he can savor and devour you all the much he wanted. He wanted to do it faster, but you were a distraction. You had started it by kissing his neck. Trailing your tongue on his sensitive spot. Then you had escalated it by finally touching his hardened length through his pants. Squeezed and rubbed.

You teased the life out of him. Had played with your cunt, all the while he struggled to keep concentrating on the road ahead. How impossible that was when you bunched up your dress around your waist. Spread your legs and started to rub your cute cunt over your lacy panties. Taehyung was sure he’s going to crash. Then you pushed the fabric to the side. Moaned needily as you pushed a finger inside you. What a show you put for him. You pumped and pumped and pumped. Dripping on to the leather seat of his car.

“Holy fuck, baby. Jesus.”

“Need you Tae. Oh, fuck I can’t... Need more... Can I jerk you? No... no, can I suck you off?”

“Fuck, I’m gonna crash lady.”

“No, you won’t. C’mon you can. You’re a tough guy aren’t you. You can handle a little teasing.”

“Oh, fuck… you are a vixen. You gonna kill us both.”

You slipped your drenched finger out of your cunt. All he could think was how delicious you would taste. He had opened his mouth before he could think about it. Before you could wipe your finger on your thigh. You took the hint. Pushed your finger inside his mouth gratefully. It was embarrassing but he nearly cried. You did too. Didn’t wait a second longer before you were fumbling with his belt. Taehyung’s hips bucked upward involuntarily. His cock twitching as you freed him from the tight confines of his pants.

From there it was a hazy blur. You ruined him. From the very moment your warm lips wrapped around his flushed tip. You were a fucking vixen through and through. Such a tease. Knew exactly what you were doing when you gagged and chocked yourself on his cock. Slurping and drooling. Sucking the life out of him. Keeping him lost in your warmth till his cock throbbed nearing the release and you had stopped. Taehyung complained. Not for real though. He loved every minute of it. And by the time he parked in front of your apartment building, Taehyung was surprised how he even managed that. He took a moment to collect himself as you were still going on it. He was in ecstasy. Immense pleasure. Yet if you had thought he had given you full control, you were so wrong.

He bunched up your hair in his fist. Bucking his hips upward. Pressed you down. Kept you there before let go. You slipped his length out of your mouth. Gasping and panting.

“Cum, sailor. Want to taste you.”

He used your hair to straighten you up. Looked at your ruined face. Fucking ethereal.

“Yeah, you want that? Too bad, princess. I want to ruin that tight little hole first, fill you up, and make you beg for more. Tell me you'll let me.”

Couldn’t help but kiss your wet lips. You nodded into that kiss.

………………………………..

Five years ago

It was the best sex Taehyung had ever experienced. From the very moment you managed to enter your apartment in one piece to where he had you beneath him, his cock stretching your cute cunt open, it all felt like a dream to him. You pulsed around him violently. Frantically. He made you cum twice before having you warming his cock. Both times on his tongue. Sucked and lapped on your cute clit for so long. Overstimulated you to a point you actually cried.

Funny part was that it wasn’t about showing you who was in control or taking sweet revenge for the torture you put him during the drive. No, it was entirely his feral desire. The desire to keep lapping against your sweet slick. He was starved. To keep his head buried between your thighs and get drunk on your smell. He was high. He felt inhuman, insatiable. He could’ve gone for days like that. Fingers knuckles buried inside your cunt and massaging that sweet spot. Tongue circling around your twitching clit. Drinking your sweet essence. Unfortunately, though, he had to stop before you became too tired to pleasure his aching cock.

He held on to a loose thread of sanity as he watched you squirming beneath him. Eyes teary and mouth agape. He wanted to move but felt greedy to do so at the same time.

“Shit, I don’t want to start.”

“Y-yeah? Fuck… W-why is th-that?”

You giggled beautifully. Breathlessly.

“Starting it means, ending it sometime princess. Don’t want to stop.”

He pressed himself more into you. Relished the feeling of your warm walls clenching and unclenching around him. Your warmth. Having you stretched so wide and the sensation of your tightness struggling to adjust to him. Your arousals soaking his length. It was a dream to have you. To fuck you. Raw. He didn’t want that to end.

You had gone still at his words, however. Watched him with an unexplainable yet sorrowful expression. And he knew what was coming. He didn’t want you to voice that out. You did.

“I hope you know what you’re doing Kim Taehyung.”

Shit. He wanted to silence you. So, he dragged his aching cock back just to slam inside you. It didn’t have the desired effect. You moaned loudly and arched your back. Yet before he could repeat his movements, you spoke.

“I hope you realize that you’re cheating Kim Taehyung.”

It should’ve turned him down the moment those words left your sweet, seductive lips. But how fucked up he was that it didn’t make any difference at all. His hunger for you still roared inside him without a hitch. He gave you another harsh thrust.

“I hope you know; you’re an engaged man and you have a fucking fia─”

“Holy fuck, shut up you little minx. Shut up! Just use that mouth to moan my name, go on.”

He stilled himself inside you. Ground a bit. And opted into an animalistic pace straight away. And you did what you’ve been asked for. Moaned his name so sweet that his head spun. Yet there was a single thread of sanity left on you.

“Tell me you know Taehyung. Don’t go fucking blame me after this.”

“I know. All right. I fucking know. Damn know.”

He leaned forward. Kissed you hard. Withdrew only to grab the underside of your thighs. And to push your legs toward your torse. Bent you in half. Fucked you the hardest he could.

“It doesn’t matter vixen, you know. It’s only happening this one time. It’s fine.”

Told to himself more than to you. You had looked at him with void eyes. No emotion. Or not. Taehyung thought you were hurt. But you nodded. Understood. And he threw the care away. You did too. It was all pleasure. Each drag of his cock inside your warm walls. Each hit against your sweet spot. Each clench you made. It all was perfect. Perfect in the way how he wanted more even when he was already buried deep inside you. He wanted more of you. Wanted to make that last long. Especially since it was supposed to happen one time. Taehyung wanted to make you lose your mind. And he did.

Made you hold your own thighs so he can go deeper and harder. Played with your cute clit. All it took was few flicks and you were cuming undone crazily. Had put your legs over his shoulders. Kissed you hard when you came again. Had you on your knees. Yet in the end, he wanted even more. Even when you were so spent. When you lost the ability to stay up on your knees long ago. Taehyung would say it was the only reason why he fell to the bed laying on his side. Got you in the same position. Pulled you to him till your back was pressed against his chest. His hand under your neck. Curled it so you would be even closer. Held your leg up while he entered your warmth again.

Fuck, that was no ordinary way to fuck a one-night stand. He spoon fucked you, while he held you so passionately. Kissing your neck and coaxing you. Praising you for being such good dirty slut for him.

“Like that pretty slut. God, take it. Doing so fine baby. I’m so close. So close.”

“Taehyung… I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. You will. Take me baby please. Want to cum deep inside you. Tell me you want that, hm? Tell me you want my cum deep inside your slutty cunt. You gonna keep them inside, don’t you?”

“Taehyung please…”

Weren’t it the sweetest sound when you moaned his name. And when you add a nice beg in the end.

“I got you baby. Let go one more time for me? I know you got more. You can cum more for me slut.”

“Oh, fuck…”

“Yeah? Shit, feel so good princess. You feel fucking good. Don’t want to fucking stop.”

Taehyung had his face buried in your neck the whole time. Your scent was intoxicating. Addictive. You felt like home. Even though it didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know you. Not even your name.

“What’s your name?”

He never stopped railing your cunt as he blurted the question out. You giggled breathlessly. Taehyung felt you shake against him.

“Seriously, Kim? You- fuck- you’re fucking me to the next week, but you don’t know my name?”

“You never told me.”

“Why would you want to know my name?”

“So, I can moan it.”

You told him your name. And Taehyung stuck to his words. Moaned it over and over again. Even moaned it when you were the one who was cuming again. Squeezing around his twitching cock hard. Desperate to milk him. Crying his name. Taehyung held you close because he wanted to. You were so good. And the way you gripped him was the final straw for him.

It was pathetic how he whined. Almost cried when he came. It was otherworldly. The feeling. But it was all over the moment he lost it. The moment his hips stuttered, and he couldn’t edge himself anymore. Rope after rope of white cum had shot into the confine of your womb. Satisfactory. He felt whole for a minute before reality had hit him. Bad. It was bad. Even then, he hadn’t rushed away from you. No. He had waited till he couldn’t anymore. Had cleaned you up despite your half- hearted protests.

Eventually, when he gathered himself, you were fast asleep. And the thing that had made Taehyung felt most guilty was the way he kissed you softly before he left.

………………………………..

Four years and four months ago

You never saw him. Not even once since your little dirty tryst. You wanted to ask about him from Namjoon, but your ego was larger than the galaxy. No, you couldn’t lower yourself like that. Besides, he had told you it was just a one-time thing. Funny. Normally you left men wanting more. They had always come back. Not Taehyung. You understood though. Just because you felt satisfied to be the bad guy, it doesn’t mean he would too. You had fully expected that was the case. That Taehyung would stick to the good. Would do the right thing. Until that day.

It was storming outside. You were in a critical state. A shadow lingered in the corner of your living room, and screams echoed in your mind. You planned to leave the house for a good drink and a hunt that night. That was when you heard the knock on your door. And the person outside it was someone who you never expected to see again.

How ridiculous it was the way you were grinning from ear to ear like a mad woman when you opened the door. Finding a soaked Taehyung, covered in a black hoodie.

“Well, hello, Mr. Kim Taehyung!”

“Hi, vixen.”

“You’re passing by?”

“One more time. Just one more. I need it, baby, please.”

He startled you with his sudden outburst. You didn’t get to ask anything more. Simply because he was lunging at you. You didn’t get to do anything more than letting out a surprised yelp when he intruded your house. Lips pressed hard against yours. It was too quick how he thrusted his tongue inside your mouth, taking advantage of the surprised gasp.

All you saw was the door closing behind him before he had your back against the wall next to the door. You kissed him back. You did. Just after the few initial seconds of surprise passed away. Slipped your tongue inside his mouth too. Moaned at the sensation you felt only once before. At the addictive taste. He tasted like winter. You used to hate winter. It was dull and gloomy. But when you were kissing Kim Taehyung, you fell in love with the winter. He was the bright side you never saw. Your head started spinning. Above all, the screams inside your head vanished the moment his lips landed on yours. And you knew the shadow was gone too. You were the one who pulled away, first. You could’ve died if you didn’t.

“Wh- what are y- you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Thought it was supposed to be that one time?”

“I know Vixen, I fucking know. Can you please- just… Fuck- let me fuck you one more time. I just need one more time. Can’t get you out of my head.”

Well, you didn’t care at all. You were at peace with the information that you were the bad person. If Taehyung wanted to take part in that, you weren’t going to stop him. Because you were selfish. He had no idea how much you missed him. How hard the past few months were for you. Your invisible friends have started to annoy your ass more and more since the day you woke up to an empty bed after he fucked you to the next life. That- the day he came back- was the only day you felt relieved. You were not going to play the hero who you never were.

So, of course, you said yes. An eager one. That’s all it took for Taehyung. He almost tore your clothes apart. His soaked ones following afterward before he had you straddling his sculptured thighs naked. Sat on your couch, grinding on his bare cock while he lapped against your hardened nipples. You went on it for what felt like hours. Your sticky arousals soaked his hard cock while his saliva made a mess on your tits. He created reddish artwork on your skin. And you clenched around nothing every time.

“Want me to tie you up to your bed, vixen?”

“Fuck..”

“Hm? Answer me slut?”

“Yes…. please.”

“Holy fuck! Gonna make you cum hard baby, don’t worry.”

That was your first bondage. You never allowed any man to tie you up to anything. Not even to tie your hands together with their silk ties. It took more than trust to let someone have you that way. You never felt safe. You always wanted to have your control even when you were too drunk to care. You hate it when you don’t have that control. With Kim Taehyung, however, you didn’t care. You consented to be tied to your bed gratefully. You felt safe. You trusted him more than you trusted yourself.

There was not a single ounce of doubt when he secured the knots around your wrists. There was not a drop of fear when he ate your cunt like you were a full course meal. Not even when you knew he’s going to overstimulate you. He would make you cum until your thighs shake. And you had no safe word. Yet you trusted him. So much. You felt nothing but blissful pleasure when he finally had enough of your taste. His hardened length visibly jumping. You didn’t hesitate to tell him where you had your vibrator when he asked for it. Knew you were up to a good time. So, you were.

Your back throat was raw from all the moaning when he finally thrusted inside you. You had missed the stretch so badly. He had the damn vibrator pressed against your already sensitive clit when he started pounding you on to the mattress.

“You feel good princess?”

“So- fuck- s- so good Tae... Oh, baby... shit...”

“Ahh, shit, such a tight cunt. Just like I remembered. Nobody fucked you after me?”

You only managed to shake your head. It was the truth. Not that you didn’t want. You wanted it badly. But nobody felt the same. So, you gave up on the kissing stage.

“Really? Really princess? Y-you didn’t? Fuck…. You gonna kill me. Holy fuck!”

And he was going to kill you too. It scared you how you didn’t know a way to handle that much pleasure. You wanted to touch him. Badly. Your hands itched. Restrains dug scarlet marks into your wrists at how hard you moved your hands against them. It was pure instinct that made you want to claw at his back. You couldn’t. That was torture.

“Wanna- wanna….”

“Yeah baby? What do you want?”

“Wanna touch you… Tae please.”

“No… No princess. Just take it. Hm take it. Take my cock like a good slut.”

It’s not like you had any other options to be fair. You had to take it. And you did graciously. Lost the count of how many times you fell over the edge. Convulsing around him. Somewhere between your fourth orgasm and his first, you lost your senses. Just cried for him to untie you because you wanted to touch. At last, he relented. Untied you. You jumped at the opportunity. Pulled him so close to you. Didn’t even mind his weight crushing you. It was just like the first time. You didn’t want to end.

“Go again, please, Tae. Again, I want more. Keep filling me up.”

“Fuck, sure you can take it?”

“Positive.”

So, he did. Without the vibrator and restraints. And it wasn’t a fuck. It was love making. He stared into your soul through your eyes when he gently rocked you into your mattress. Held you close to him the best way he could.

“Let’s cum together baby. Cum with me.”

You didn’t know what the best was. Cuming hard when he violently pounded you or when he slowly built the tension and made you let go together with him. Both felt ecstatic. So much your heart broke when it was over. When he cleaned you up and plopped next to you. It was all over again. And you thought you would wake up to an empty bed next day.

………………………….

Four years and four months ago

You didn’t wake up to an empty bed. For once, the emptiness was replaced by something tender, something real. When you woke up and tried to adjust your tired eyes to the bright light, your eyes had landed on a snuggled figure next to you. Then you had felt the warmth of that figure. Your bed wasn’t cold. And you felt how tight his arm was wrapped around your waist. It was wholesome. It was heartbreaking. He hadn’t left. He didn’t know how much it meant to you. You had watched his peaceful face that morning. Like a creep. The way he breathed. Way his lips were pouty. You didn’t dare to move a finger. Felt like a dream that was too good to be true. A single wrong move could make it all vanish.

It didn’t. He woke up sometime after you. And to your relief he knew where he was. Had mumbled a groggy ‘morning’. Your heart was doing the tango. Wanted to kiss him hard. You didn’t, though. You just stared at his face. He did the same until he finally felt bored of it and opted to play with your hair. It was peaceful. Peaceful in a way that made you do something you thought impossible.

“You know, when I was a kid, monsters lived under my bed.”

You never meant to tell him that. No. It slipped your mouth before you could stop. Nobody knew. Not even Namjoon. Your aunt knew, just because you ran to her when the first monster crept out under your bed. She didn’t give a fuck. You had to deal with your monsters on your own. You were a little kid. But what else you could’ve expected when she was the one who created those monsters.

You kept them as a secret. Were afraid of people treating you differently. Were afraid of Namjoon treating you differently. Had thought he would not want to be your friend anymore had he known. You always thought, if there was a someone who would eventually know, that someone would be Kim Namjoon. Your best friend since you were little kids. The boy next door. He was all you had. His house was the place you ran to when your aunt was too drunk, making your life hell. He was your only relief.

Then he betrayed you. He found a girlfriend when you were fifteen. You were jealous. Scared. But that wasn’t what broke you. What broke you was when he came to you to let you know that he’s flying abroad. And he did. You were left alone. Partially you hated Namjoon for that. You always waited, though. Thought the monsters would go away when he came back. Because that’s how it was before he left.

Funny, how it wasn’t he who made your monsters go away in the end. True, he brought the light you were craving. Only not in the shape of him. Still, you didn’t mean to tell it to Taehyung. At that moment you were so sure you made him run away from you. You were beyond surprised when he just stared at you. Affectionately. Brought his hand on your hair to cradle your cheek.

“You did.”

You had remained still. At the verge of tears. He was supposed to run away. Yet you nod anyway.

“My-uh- aunt, she… um used to… I mean she didn’t really treat me well. And this one day she came home all bloody. I don’t know what happened but- uh- I was so scared of her. She- fuck… well, she kinda took her anger out on me and ever since that day, monsters lived under my bed.”

You sniffled. Tried hard not to cry when Taehyung changed his position. Dropped his hand to your waist again. Just to pull you closer to his still naked body. Hugged you so close. Inhaled shakily yet, he didn’t run away.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry that happened. I wish I could have been there to protect you.”

“It’s not your fault. Why would you be sorry for something that you have no control of?”

“Do they return often?”

You didn’t know how he knew. Were you that visible? You wanted to tell a white lie. That you were fine. Something made you tell the truth, however.

“They do but I’m not afraid anymore.”

“Call me when it happens the next time.”

“Why? Told you I’m not afraid, sailor.”

You failed to hold your tears. Especially, when he hovered over you. Kissed your lips.

“I know. Just call me.”

He made a severe mistake that time. You and he made a severe mistake. You agreed in the end. Just before his soft kiss started to deepen. Before his lips started to trail down your jaw and neck. Before they ended up on your already hardened nipples. Nobody questioned how it shouldn’t have happened again.

……………………………..

Five years and three months ago

You didn’t call him until a month passed. Taehyung considered visiting you unannounced again but felt like a scumbag for even thinking about it. You were not a sex toy for him to use. And he still had a fiancée. Who was innocently unaware of his infidelity. He wanted to have better control over himself. Not to commit the same sin again. Convincing himself he was only meeting you to help made it seem acceptable, though it wasn’t just an excuse—he genuinely wanted to help. Not that he knew a reason. He just did.

Because he finally knew what made you, you. Knew it was your aunt that made you broke apart in a Samgyeopsal restaurant. Knew how it happened. How the said aunt clipped your wings. He wanted to help. Felt an urge to protect you. Be next to you each and every minute so, no monster, no human would be able to harm you.

So, when he received a call from an unknown number. When he heard a sob from the other side when he answered. Taehyung had gone into a frenzy. There was only one thing on his mind. That you needed help. You needed him. You had only muttered one word.

“Taehyung…”

His heart sank at that. Shattered. Brain started to ring alarms. There would be no other way to explain that feeling than fear. He thought you were dying. You weren’t. When he finally reached you, he found you curled up next to your couch. Screaming with your hands covering your ears. Tears streaming down. One word chanted through your dry lips. Desperate.

“No. No. No. No.”

Taehyung didn’t know what he should do. So, he did what he thought would be helpful. He hugged you tightly. Told you he was there. And kissed you passionately. Tasted your tears on your lips. It felt like hours passed until you finally calmed down. But when you did. When your cries fade into little whimpers, he finally felt like he could breathe.

…………………………..

Five years and three months ago

You never wanted to be a burden. Yet somehow you became one. Taehyung said that’s not who you are. But you knew you were. You started to rely on him completely ever since that day. From the very moment he stepped inside your apartment while you were crying for a little relief. When it was over, you knew you had to let him go. You couldn’t though.

“C-Could you, um… stay a little longer?”

“Course, I can.”

You sighed in relief. Snuggled against his chest. You sat on the floor next to the couch. Both of you. As long as he was there, the bloody woman won’t return. You knew it. You were staring to calm down. Collecting the shredded pieces of you. Still very shaken from your earlier outburst. You never learnt a way to cope with it afterwards. At least not until Kim Taehyung happened.

“Want to forget it ever happened vixen?”

“I would like to.”

He said nothing when he got to his feet. Said nothing when he fished for his phone. You watched him with a curious gaze until the sound of music filled the silent air of your apartment. Reggae- rock. It was, ‘can’t remember to forget you’. You rolled your eyes to the back of your skull. Shook your head so fast that it made you dizzy.

“Oh my god, no, Taehyung.”

“C’mon, it’s fun.”

You protested the best you could. Yet ended up swirling under his arms after he pulled you into your shaky legs. You were reluctant as hell at first. It was amazing how he eased you slowly. How he made you swirl and sway your hips. You didn’t even realize you were actually dancing in your living room with a man you had no business being with. Didn’t know you were grinning like a fool. In your baggy hoodie and leggings. He didn’t have to make you dance anymore. You did it by yourself. Pressed you back to his. Wiggled your shoulders in sync with him. Sung the lyrics through top of your lungs.

I rob and I kill to keep him with me

I do anything for that boy.

I’d give my last dime to hold him tonight

I do anything for that boy.

Only you didn’t know that was the truth. That in the long run, you would really do anything for him. And that won’t be enough.

In that moment, it was the life. It was one of the happiest memories in your distraught life. You saw the universe in his eyes that day when he finally turned around and turned you to face him as well. He was happy. You were happy. In a little bubble you created.

“Gosh, sailor, you’re crazy.”

“Yes, I am.”

He mumbled before softly kissing you.

……………………………….

Three years and six months ago

You called him rarely first. Then more often. Then every day. First, it was when the voices and visions got unbearable. Then it was for no reason. And he was more than happy to visit. After few months, you didn’t have to call him anymore. He came every day. He danced with you every day. He fucked you every day. The thing was, though, you both knew it was temporary. You thought you were just fine. You did it because you were the bad guy. That thought shielded you against the guilt. So, you kept thinking that. Until, of course, you couldn’t anymore.

That day when he rocked you onto your bed while staring at you with those sparkly eyes, you knew something had changed. Not in him. But in you. You weren’t doing it to be the bad guy anymore. You weren’t doing it to feel like you have control anymore. No. You were genuinely enjoying every moment with him. You loved them. You loved the way he looked at you. Loved the way he talked to you. Loved how he smiled at you. Loved how he laughed. Walked. Ate. Slept. Loved his smell. Loved his presence. Simply, you loved him.

You inhaled a shaky breath. There was no denying anymore. You loved Kim Taehyung. In a crazy way. Just like on your second day together, you hadn’t meant to voice your thoughts. But once again, the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“I love you.”

He had still immediately inside you.

“What?”

“I love you, sailor.”

…………………………….

Three years and six months ago

Taehyung had panicked too much. Too hard. He never expected to hear that. You surely didn’t love him. It couldn’t be true. It was such an unexpected confession. He stumbled away from your bed. Had denied what you said. Shook his head. Got dressed in record time. Had stormed away from your apartment while you looked at him with wide innocent eyes.

He didn’t even give you time to explain. Didn’t give you the explanation you deserve. Vanished from your gaze. You called him several times. He ignored you. Just because he was so scared. You couldn’t love him. You knew he was engaged. Above all, he couldn’t accept your feelings. You were worlds apart. He had every intention to keep ignoring you. To hide away from the world. And you stopped calling him too. He knew you had a huge ego, that you wouldn’t even look at his face again.

He thought that would be the case. But how hard that day was for him. He was a huge mess through and through. His heart was aching like someone was squeezing it in their hand. He felt like he was physically bleeding. Yet he could’ve made the day if it wasn’t for the call he received from you at midnight. He never ignored your late-night calls except that day. He didn’t answer. Waited few minutes lying in his bed, imagining how it might be for you. He knew you hadn’t called to say anything else. He knew so much about you by then, that he knew you called him because you were scared. Knew the visions might be back. Knew you might be hearing the sounds.

And that was when he realized how much he cared. He cared always, yes, but that’s when he realized that. He cared too much. Too hard. He couldn’t stay away from you. Couldn’t ignore your calls for help. You were too precious. Even though he didn’t know you had been his everything lately.

Taehyung practically jumped from the bed. Ignored his startled fiancée. Broke every speed limit as he raced to your place. Just to find you nowhere. Nowhere in your apartment. That was the first time he had felt hollow. A strange sensation shot through his spine. His heart was beating in his ears as he stood still in your living room. Trying to clear his head and think straight. That’s when he had heard the sobs. Muffled. You were inside. Somewhere there. He followed the sound. Slowly and quietly until he found you finally. The sounds came through your closet. Taehyung didn’t think it was possible to feel more heart broken. He did somehow, when he sprang open the closet door. Gaze falling on to the figure in a fetal position. You had looked up at him with your red and puffy eyes. Your panicked expression morphed into an angry one in a blink.

“Why are you here? What the fuck are you doing here Kim? Why are you here? Get out. Leave. I don’t want you here!”

He didn’t listen to you obviously. Crouched down before you. Touched you when you started to thrash. Throwed a tantrum.

“No. No for fucks sake vixen, I’m not leaving you like this. I’m so sorry baby.”

“You did once. You can do it again. Fucking go away Kim.”

“I’m sorry princess. No, stop─”

You were stronger than a lioness that day. He had a great struggle holding you still, pulling you into his body. You tried your best though.

“I don’t want your fucking pity, Taehyung, I don’t want it.”

“I’m not giving you my fucking pity! I’m fucking giving you, my love”

He yelled. You stopped wriggling like a worm at once. Everything went still for a minute before you broke apart. Crying hard into his chest. He cried too. But at the same time, he made sure to tell you he loved you like it was a mantra to calm you down.

“I fucking love you too Vixen. I love you.”

…………………………………………

A year ago

From the moment Taehyung confessed his love for you, your life turned completely around. It wasn’t the sour and dull life anymore. It was bright as summer and comfortable as winter. Sure, there were heart breaks and days you cried. Like how your heart broke when Namjoon confessed to you in a fancy restaurant. You had blinked at his face stupidly. You couldn’t believe it. That Namjoon liked you. You had a fat crush on him until the day he left to states. You thought you harbored the same feelings when he came back too. But somewhere on the line things had changed. Even though Namjoon was very special to you, you had to break his heart. You were in love with Namjoon’s friend. For years. Namjoon understood your rejection, but he shut himself out from your life.

It hurt you. But you knew he was hurt too. There were other incidents too. Sometimes you fought with Taehyung. You cried a little. He brought you cupcakes instead of beer after those fights. Brought you Orchids. Despite everything you were living your best life. Things changed for good too. Like how you loved winter. Because he tasted like winter. Because he took you to that winter carnival. Only you two. You giggled like a teenager. Enjoyed everything like a toddler. He showed you the things you missed. Healed the little girl inside you. Taught you it was okay to love someone unconditionally. To be loved unconditionally.

He made you watch cliché movies and read you books. You learnt how beautiful it was to dance in the rain. You looked forward to his silly dates. You missed him when he was gone. But with everything, you both knew in the very end of the silver line there was a looming darkness. You ignored it the best you could though.

“Do you think she meant this?”

Taehyung played with your hair- a habit he developed- as you lazily laid there after he fucked your brains out. It was noon. Harsh sunlight was creating glowing patterns on his face. You looked at him wearily.

“Who?”

“That fortune teller. She told our fates were tied together.”

“Really sailor, you still believe those shits?”

“You don’t?”

There was such tender look in his eyes. How you loved him. You turned to your side to face him, thinking his question through.

“Well, I don’t want it to be real, so, I don’t believe.”

“Why?”

“Because she said we had unresolved issues Taehyung, that’s bad. And…. She said that cycles repeat. She said something about pains lingering. If it was true, then that part comes true as well. If it was true, then something bad happened to us in that past life Taehyung. I don’t want that again. Don’t want you gone.”

Taehyung had frozen for a minute. Had looked at you with his eyes pouring out his heart. Had kissed you deeply. Held you close.

“It won’t. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

You trusted him that day. But you forgot that your life isn’t supposed to be that good.

………………………

Six months ago

It was storming just as it had been the day Taehyung suddenly popped up in front of your apartment door, after months of your first day. And he had knocked on your door similar to how he had done then Instead of simply walking inside as he used to. You were so surprised to find him there soaked to the bones. Ironically wearing a similar black hoodie. And you, stupid you, had grinned uncontrollably to see him there. Only until you realized he wasn’t smiling back. Until you noticed that his eyes were puffy and red. Undoubtedly from crying. Even the tip of his nose was red. He hadn’t spoken a word. Not a single word before you understood it for yourself. He had this look on his face. Somber. Distraught. Guilty. Hesitating. It all screamed one thing. That loomed darkness was there.

You knew. Before he could tell it, you knew. And you jumped into action before anything else can happen. You desperately had believed it won’t happen if you stop it before he says anything.

“No. No. Taehyung. I- fuck- I don’t want to hear it. Turn around please. Leave.”

What you wanted didn’t happen. He spoke. Instead of listening to you he spoke.

“She knows.”

“So what? I don’t care Taehyung. Turn around. This isn’t happening. You’re not- you’re not- not─”

Your words had muffled by a sob that erupted from your throat. You didn’t want to cry. It meant, it was happening. No, it wasn’t.

“Look, I- (__), I’m s-so fucking so-rry baby─”

“No, you’re not, you’re not sorry Taehyung. If you’re really sorry, don’t do this to me. Don’t─”

“She doesn’t deserve that. I wasted her whole life. I can’t do that to her.”

She doesn’t deserve that. So, you did?

He wasted her whole life. So, he didn’t waste yours?

He can’t do that to her. But he can do that to you?

You took a step back. The tears were out of your control now. That wasn’t how it meant to happen. It was meant to be a happy ending. You did your best. You did everything you could. You never asked him to make a decision. You always soothed your heart saying, he would do it at the right time. You always understood his situation. You made peace with being a secret, and not being able to tell anyone who your boyfriend was. You did everything. In the end, it wasn’t enough. None of it was enough.

Despite all your efforts there stood Kim Taehyung. The man you loved dearly. Loved crazily. Blindly that you didn’t even see that you wouldn’t be the one he chose. He stood there while tears rolled down his cheeks as well. But in the end, he was leaving you. For her.

You carry the weight of a past undone. Shadows of a life lived before. A tragedy. You’ve crossed paths now to mend what was broken... or to fail once more. Beware. Cycles repeat, and pain lingers. Choose wisely this time.

Pain lingers. It sure hell did.

You were starting to lose the ability to breathe. You dug your nails to your fists. You wanted to stay calm. Talk it through. Yet the pain made it come out all wrong.

“So what? You gonna walk away like that? Do you realize, how much of prick you are?”

“No, don’t do that.”

“Do what Kim? You cheated on her for years and only now you realize─”

“Shut the fuck up (__).”

“Oh, I will. I will shut up. I will be the one to shut up and bare it when you’re tossing me aside after using my body for years.”

“That’s not what fucking happened.”

“Then what the fuck does happened?”

“I didn’t fucking use you. You knew what you were getting yourself into. Don’t blame me like a hypocrite (___). Don’t fucking do that.”

“I didn’t know Taehyung. I fucking believed in the lie you told me.”

“Well, then why did you fucking let me lie. Maybe you should’ve thought better before slutting yourself for me. I should never have visited the carnival that day.”

That had hit hard. Like a slap. Shut your mouth. Only pain remained in the suddenly silenced air as you looked at him with pathetic eyes. It took him a minute. Then he nearly lunged forward, shaking his head violently. You recoiled instantly.

“No, fuck I don’t mean that vixen. Fuck, I’m sorry. Hey, baby─”

“It doesn’t matter Taehyung. Guess what? You’re so right. It’s my fault. Should’ve known better. I’m a slut and I would put that into good use.”

“No, vixen wait.”

“Bye Kim. Live your fucking life.”

You closed the door in his face.

……………………………..

Now

“There’s no hope anymore, is there Tae? You were long gone when I found out?”

Taehyung just blankly stares at her face. Sighs. Drops his head into his hand. Ever since he left your apartment, it hasn’t been the same. With him. With her. Taehyung has forgotten to smile. He has drowned himself in alcohol. Nothing helps though. He wants you. He needs you. Like how he needs air. He misses you. Your warm smile. Your voice. Your scent. Oh, he loves you crazily. Blindly. He now realizes that he can’t do this.

He wanted to do the right thing. Right by her. Because he thought that’s how he would find peace. This isn’t peace, however. He’s living in a burning hell. Each passing second without you feels like an eternity in a pit of fire. He loves you. He can’t do it. So, he shakes his head. Biting back the tears.

“I- uh I─”

“Save it Tae.”

The despair in her voice is visible. Taehyung doesn’t know what to do. To add more to his misery, he feels a sensation that is unexplainable but enough to make the hair in the back of his neck stand. To give him chills. He doesn’t like this. It’s uneasy. Scary. He feels helpless.

“You’re such a fool Tae. A coward.”

She adds at his silence. Taehyung snaps his head toward her. A bit offended at the words yet says nothing. So, she continues.

“You cheated on me for years. Years Taehyung. That’s not a simple mistake. That’s- that’s…. You love her. Even though you told me it was just physical needs, you love her Tae. You barely talk to me anymore. You don’t eat, sleep. You barely leave the house. You, Kim Taehyung, are not the man I once fell in love with. You were long gone when I found out. But do you know what makes my heart break the most? It’s that after everything, you were a coward who couldn’t even make the right decision.”

She steps forward.

“You weren’t brave enough to fight for what matters the most. You broke my heart, and then her heart and in the end, you decided to hide away? Gosh, how much of a pathetic coward you can be?”

“Wh-what do you mean? I- I did the right thing.”

He finds his voice lastly. Is too shaken by her sudden accusation. She hasn’t talked to him this straight or rude even the day she found out.

“Did you? No, you didn’t Tae. What you did was choose the easy path. I am that easy path Tae. She- she is the hard path. All the judgments, and facing Namjoon, all of your friends, our friends, our families. And not to mention that she isn’t exactly normal, is she?”

“She. Is. Normal.”

Even Taehyung can’t comprehend the way he’s shifted from a mourning widow to a protective wolf in one minute. He is glaring at her now. She doesn’t even wince, however. Gives him a soft smile instead.

“There you go. You should’ve done that way earlier. Fight for what you want Tae. Not everything comes easy in this world. You’re an asshole. But guess what? People always make shitty mistakes. This doesn’t justify what you did, but I don’t think you and I ever will be the same again. We’ve been engaged for forever now. You’ll never marry me. Even if you did, that would be a great mistake we both make. You’ve become part of her.”

Taehyung blinks at her face. His throat is constricting. Eyes burning. He wants to say something. But what can he say when every word she utters is true. He was a coward. He let you go, and now he gets this feeling that everything is about to end. He gets a bad feeling.

“I don’t know. I- um… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Do you love her?”

Taehyung sighs heavily. Nods. What good it’ll do by lying anymore.

“Y- yeah. Ye-yes. Fuck… yes, I do. I- fuck I’m sorry but I do. I love her. And- and holy shit I feel like it’s too late. I feel like somethings wrong, and it drives me fucking crazy.”

Taehyung rubs his face in frustration. He’s going to explode. Something’s wrong. He can’t breathe.

“Well, I’m not going to be the bigger person here and ask you to run to her Tae. And I won’t say that I’ll forgive you either. But…. My grandma used to say that you shouldn’t ignore it when you get a bad feeling about something.”

With that she turns around and leaves. Taehyung watches her for minute. A long one. His brain struggles to process what just happened. Until it suddenly kicks him. He shouldn’t ignore the bad feeling. It’s still not the way how he should do it. She deserves a better explanation. An apology. A sincere one. She deserves to know the truth. But he needs to see you first. He would do it right this time. For real. Right by you. He would just find you first.

…………………………..

Now

You wonder if this is how it was in the past as well. Just as the fraudulent woman told you. She said that it was a tragedy. That you were met to mend what was broken. Or fail. And what happened was the latter. You failed, once again. Funny, how you’re believing it now. You were so adamant of believing it was a scam. Now here you are. Perch on the edge of your rooftop. Thinking about your past fucking life. You let out a shaky laugh that spirals into something maniacal.

Your life is ridiculous. You lived your entire life battling a battle that nobody else can see. Monsters. Voices. Hate. No friends. No love. No light. Then when you met the man who was supposed be tightly connected with your fate, you thought you finally won that battle. Well, it seems you were wrong. You lost it even before it starts. Now, you’re too tired to keep fighting. It’s suffocating. Exhausting. When Taehyung left that day, the voices and visions became unbearable. There’s not a single day you slept peacefully. Night terrors when you were asleep. Shadows and screaming when you were awake. No amount of alcohol or endless nights spent clubbing. No man who you brought home was able to help you.

Sure, Taehyung brought the light to your world. And he took that light away by himself. Like a candle flicked off. Now it’s only darkness and you don’t think you’ll ever see a light again. You never had anything to lose. But now when you sit here staring into the road down, bustling with vehicles and people, you feel like you’ve lost everything. Maybe, somewhere in between before Taehyung and after Taehyung, you lost your hope. Desire to hang into life. It’s not like anyone would ever miss you. Would they?

Would Taehyung miss you?

Did you die first in your past life? Did he miss you then? Did you kill yourself before? Was that because he rob your light? Does it matter anymore?

Oh, you’re tired. So, tired. You need a peaceful moment. Just one is enough. Maybe in your next life, you will have a normal life. Good family. Parents who won’t abandon you. Good friends. A life without monsters. And maybe… just maybe…. You would meet Taehyung again. The man who wasn’t scared of your haunted scarred soul. The man who helped you to fight them. Your anchor. He was the person who held you to your life lately. The man who you still love like he’s your sun and moon. And then he won’t choose anyone else over you. He would stick to his promises, and you’ll love each other until you grow old. There will be no tragedy.

You turn your head slightly to look at the looming presence of the woman next to you. She has an evil smile on her lips. She’s winning after all. You’re giving up.

“Jump!”

……………………………

Now

Taehyung storms inside your apartment. Surprised that you haven’t changed the password. It’s like that day. It’s empty. No sign of you. He steadies himself in the middle of the living room. Staying quiet in hope to hear your muffled sobs. Like how it was the last time. Only, that he can’t hear anything. Only the hum of your fridge and the ticking sound of your wall clock. It’s empty. It’s silent. Eerily silent. Taehyung is visibly shaking. He is covered in sweat. So, he shrugs his jacket off. And that has nothing to do with the fact that he took stairs instead of the elevator. But everything do with the fact that he’s terrified.

Something is wrong.

It’s night. Did you go to a club? Bar? You don’t have many friends. Taehyung knows you and Namjoon fell apart after his confession. You can’t be at someone else’s house then. He had called you thousand times by now. You haven’t responded. Yet he tries one more time. Dialing your number with his hands shaky. Trembling badly. Cursing when it takes him more than necessary time to unlock his damn phone. When he finally does, he puts the phone on speaker and wait. Waits till the call connect and starts ringing. After what feels like hours, it does. And Taehyung can hear a phone ring inside the apartment. It comes from your room. He checked there earlier. You are not there. But your phone is, apparently. You went somewhere without your phone.

You don’t do that. You have so many demons. You don’t feel safe without your phone. You won’t leave it unless you don’t need it anymore.

Why would you not need it?

Where are you?

Where would you go?

Taehyung’s head is spinning. He feels like banging his head against a wall so that he can think straight. He tries his best to rake his brain for any kind of idea. He knows you after all. It can’t be this hard to guess where you would be.

Where?

A place you like.

A place you don’t like.

Taehyung slowly raises his head. An idea dawned on him.

The rooftop. You like that place. You and he used to stargaze there. And you hated that place. Said those voices become the most annoying when it’s quiet. Taehyung turns around like in a dream.

That’s where you are.

The sickening dread intensifies tenfold. He breaks into a run the moment he leaves the apartment.

Whatever you’re doing up there, it’s not good.

Taehyung doesn’t believe he can run this fast. He does somehow. He takes the stairs instead of elevator again. Can’t waste time waiting for the stupid thing. He runs fastest he can. Feeling his pulse thundering. He can’t be late. He has things to tell you. He needs you to know he made the wrong decision. Wants you to know that he loves you. Needs to tell you that he loves you. He wants to tell you that the day he met you at that carnival was the best day of his life. And it was the best decision he ever made.

He feels like he saw heaven when he finally reaches the top. When he can finally see the rickety door to the rooftop. He yanks the door open. Like how he did open a closet door once. His gaze immediately lands on the figure sitting on the edge. Like how it did land on a figure in a fetal position. The figure turns slightly to glance at him. Like how those eyes looked upon him like a deer caught in a trap last time. This time though, instead of getting mad at him, you look away. No emotions in your eyes. Not even a sign that you acknowledged him. You just turn around.

And Taehyung’s heart stops.

“Vixen, NOOOO!!!!”

……………………………….

Now

You stop.

Freeze.

You were just about to jump. About to end the misery. About to have your peace. You knew someone came. Your blurry vision prevents you from seeing them clearly, and their presence makes you rush, hoping to act before they can stop you. But that voice. Wait? Did they call you Vixen?

You turn around slowly again. Blink. Tears roll down your cheeks, clearing your vision. It takes some minutes for your brain to register that he’s here. Kim Taehyung is here. It takes some time for it to make any sense. Takes time until you finally clearly see him. Standing there. Panting, eyes glittery with unshed tears. He’s taking little steps toward you. His hands up in raised in a gesture of surrender. As if to let you know that he is no harm to you. Ridiculous since you always knew he wasn’t.

“S-sailor?”

You ask groggily. What if this is another hallucination of your mind.

“Yes baby- me. It’s me.”

He takes another step toward you. Slow. Puts one of his hands down. Again slow. Only to stretch it forward. Hesitating.

“Why?”

You look at his hand for a moment before looking at his face again. A single tear has rolled down his cheek.

“Wh-what do you mean why?”

“Why are you here?”

“For you.”

“Yeah?”

You keep looking at his face. He takes another step. Now he’s at a length where he can touch you. He doesn’t, however.

“Yes, I am. Baby- c-can you? Uh- please?”

He stretches his arm toward you. Is asking you to take it. Silently.

“What do you want Taehyung? Why you came back, when you just fucking left me. I can’t do this anymore. I- I, I’m fucking tired. I need to end this damn pain.”

You turn your head to look at the woman. She is no longer there. Because Taehyung is here. But that’s temporary. The moment he will go again, she’ll return. And it will happen anytime soon now. Because Taehyung would leave again. Inevitably. He would leave you again.

“I know baby, I know. I know it hurts. B-but… listen to me, will you? Just get down from there so we can talk. Let’s talk. Please. Please baby….”

“There’s nothing to talk about Taehyung. You can’t do this to me. Go where you belong.”

“But this is where I belong. Baby don’t do this. Don’t leave me to suffer again”

He sounds desperate. Helpless. Why though? You’re the one who should be desperate here. And what does he mean again?

“I’m not the one who left. What do you mean again?”

“I- I d-don’t know. I feel like I’ve lost you once. I know it’s crazy, but I can already fucking feel the pain. I feel like I’ve suffered before. Vixen please don’t do it again. Don’t- fuck, just please get down.”

You can see his hand tremble. Can hear his voice shake. He wants to touch you. You know that but he’s afraid. Like you. You wipe the tears from your hoodie sleeve.

“You wanted to go Taehyung. You chose her and─”

“I know. I’m a fucking coward baby. I am. I made a fucking mistake, but do you think I deserve this kind of punishment? To lose you forever? Do you think I’ll survive this, knowing I lost you forever? Please, Vixen, I’m begging you. Just one chance, that’s all I ask for.”

You simply look at him. He tilts his head back for a moment, trying to steady himself. He’s a mess. You’re a mess. He’s crying hard. It breaks your heart. You hate seeing him cry. Can you trust him, though? What if he leaves again? What if the woman returns again? But then what if he cries this way for the rest of his life when you’re gone? Despite everything, he is here, isn’t he.

“We can try again. In the correct way this time. I’ll be there for you; in every step you take. I’ll help you; you’ll help me. We can try again vixen. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“I don’t know sailor. I’m tired. I want them to be gone forever. Monsters, sounds. I- what if you leave me again?”

“I- God, please trust me this once baby. I won’t. I love you. God, I love you so fucking much it hurts. We’ll make them go away forever. We can do it. I got you. We can light it up baby. Trust me please. Just once, all I need is one more chance.”

That’s all you need as well. One more chance. You take a moment. You don’t know if this is going to work. All you can do is trust him. He broke it once. Maybe you won’t trust him fully now. But what if he works for it. Really hard. Maybe you’ll learn to trust him again. He said he’d help you. You’ll heal. He promised he’d do it right this time. After all, you don’t want to see him cry. You love him. Still. Blindly. Crazily. Sue you for that but you do. Maybe you have a chance, and you shouldn’t wase that.

No, you shouldn’t waste your chance.

You should choose wisely this time.

After another long second, you place your hand in his slowly. He lets out a shaky breath in relief. You get down from the edge with his help. Your legs are too shaky to keep you up right. Yet that’s no problem because you’re in his arms the moment you are down. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. Peppers every inch of you he can find with kisses. Hides his face in your hair. Inhales deeply.

“Thank you. Thank you, Vixen. God, thank you for fucking trusting me. I- God, I promise I’ll make it work. Not gonna let you go again. No. Never. I- I...”

He stutters through his tears. You hide your face in his chest. Let yourself drown in the smell of winter. Get closer as it’s physically possible. Oh, you missed him. What if you’ve never got a chance to be in his arms again? The thought makes you greedy. You clung to him for your life. Still trembling.

There’ll be a long way to go. It will be hard and easy. The road will be smooth and rocky. It will certainly require some work. But in the end, nothing matters. You’re in his hands. Again. And you’ll make sure you are making the right decision from now on. That you won’t let if fail. Won’t let you and Taehyung fail.

“Do you know I love you. Gosh, I thought I’d never get to say that to you again─” Taehyung pulls away to peer at your eyes. Presses a kiss to your lips. Hugs you tight again. “─ I fucking thought you’ll never know. I─”

“I love you sailor.” You interrupts his ramble.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Say it again then.”

“I love you. God, I fucking love you. Let’s say that more often from now on.”

He quietly laughs this time.

“I love you.”

THE BEGINNING.

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yan-lorkai · 3 months ago

Note

For any of the empty days, can I request a yandere Headless Ghost Riddle, where the darling finds his lost head? Now, Riddle wants to repay the darling by becoming their ghost husband, without the darling's consent.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Day twenty two: Headless ghost Riddle

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: started writing this as soon as I got your request and honestly, it was so fun. I hope you like it darling!

The day had started like any other. You were out exploring an old, forgotten building that had long been rumored to be haunted. No one dared go near it, but you? Curiosity always got the better of you. Inside, hidden beneath layers of dust and debris, you found an odd, heavy box. You didn’t think much of it — until you opened it.

Inside lay a human head.

Your first reaction was one of horror, but something about it felt... off. The features were too delicate, too pristine to belong to a rotting corpse. There was no decay, no stench, just a strange energy that surrounded the box. It almost felt like the head was waiting for someone to open that exact box.

It was as beautiful as a statue. Red eyes stared at you without blinking. They seemed to examine your soul. You closed the box, uncomfortable, shuddering.

Still, you took it home, not fully understanding why. Maybe to keep as a trophy, a decoration on your shelf, as morbid as that was. Maybe it was the pull of the unknown or the sense that this object was more than it seemed. Either way, you were intrigued.

You tried to search for details about that head but never found enough relevant.

Days passed with the head sitting untouched on your table, its eyes closed, peaceful in a way that unnerved you.

One evening, out of sheer curiosity, you brushed the dust away from its surface, you traced your fingers against his rosy cheeks and plump lips, imagining his story. Was he a noble of any sorts? But why has he beheaded? Why his head was hidden there?

You were curious.

But... The saying does tell that curiosity isn't always the best thing to be.

In that moment, the eyes snapped open again.

You stumbled back, heart pounding as the head came to life before your eyes, red eyes stared back at you, full of grace and amusement as his lips curled into a scary, eerie smile. A figure materialized before you — ethereal, translucent, yet there.

His head was no longer separate but part of a full, ghostly form.

"You—" His voice was eerily calm, yet there was an undeniable possessiveness beneath the surface. He regarded you with an intensity that made your breath catch. "You found me."

You blinked, not sure what to say. Fear crawled up your spine as you backed away, unsure of what you had just unleashed. "Who… who are you?"

Your pulse raced as his presence filled the room, suffocating in its intensity. “Whatever it was, I-I didn’t mean to—”

The ghost moved closer, his figure hovering just above the floor. His pale features were sharp, refined, and cold, with a kind of grace that should have been comforting but wasn’t.

"I am Riddle Rosehearts," he stated with a quiet authority. "And you, darling, have done something few have ever managed."

He cut you off with a ghostly smile, his expression soft yet chilling. “No need for apologies, dear. You’ve returned my head to me. Such a gift requires repayment, don’t you think?”

Repayment? What could he possibly mean by that?

Before you could respond, Riddle’s spectral form drew nearer, his cold, translucent hand brushing against your cheek. “I owe you a debt I cannot ignore. So, as thanks, I will stay by your side for eternity.”

“Eternity?” You barely managed to breathe the word, your voice catching in your throat. "What are you talking about?"

His smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something unsettling, something hungry in his gaze. “I will be your husband, of course. You’ve earned it. After all, you found me.”

Riddle tilted his head, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “It doesn’t matter what you asked for. You found me. You’ve bound yourself to me whether you intended to or not.” His hand lingered on your arm, and though his touch was barely there, you could feel the chill of it deep in your bones.

The room felt colder, the air heavier with his words. “Wait, I didn’t ask for that!” you exclaimed, stepping back, only for him to close the distance easily, his ghostly form flowing like mist.

Wherever you go, he'd follow.

You swallowed hard, panic rising in your chest. “I don’t want this—”

His gaze darkened, and for a moment, his true nature shone through. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. You’re mine now.” His voice was low, filled with quiet menace, but there was an undercurrent of affection, twisted as it was.

You stared at him, heart pounding, realizing that this wasn’t some nightmare you could escape from. Riddle wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to leave you alone. Not now. Not ever.

“From now on,” he whispered, leaning in closer, his breath cold against your skin, “I will be with you. Always. No one else will have you, and I will never let you go.”

Terror gripped you, but there was no escape. Not from him. Not from this fate you had unwittingly sealed the moment you found his head.

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle #riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle x mc #riddle x mc #yandere riddle x reader #riddle x yuu #riddle x reader #yandere riddle x yuu #tw yandere

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ginnsbaker · 9 months ago

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)

Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)

The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Matt’s, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.

You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. It’s as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh.

But you recognize that it’s selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leigh’s life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely person—someone you've come to admire very deeply.

[6:20 AM] Leigh: Logan’s an angel, slept through the night.

[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesn’t turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?

You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.

[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but I’m clueless. Where do I start?

As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.

[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! You’re lucky I don’t bill for text consultations 😆

You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.

[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.

Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.

[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.

Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.

[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?

Waiting for Leigh’s reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: I’d feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?

Reading her message, you're hit with a rush—excited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: We’re friends, which is why I’m paying.

It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feels—waiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.

[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it 🙂

You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text.

And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.

[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.

As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter.

It’s odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.

And they’re all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.

So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses aren’t what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.

[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Don’t try it. Their saké though is 👌👌👌

You wonder why she’s having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.

[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?

Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.

You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.

Suzie’s not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

You try to look puzzled. “Nothing. Why?”

Suzie rolls her eyes. “Please, you’ve been mooning over that clock and sighing like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”

You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. “It’s just… I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,” you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny.

Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you.

She’s not delicate with you this time. “You’re doing that thing again. Waiting around for something that’s probably not gonna happen. It’s not doing you any good.”

You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.

Suzie continues, “You're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.”

“Thanks for saying I’m young when I’m five years older than you,” you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isn’t saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.

Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. “Snap out of it!” she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist you’re used to.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. “It's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she does—or doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.”

Suzie knows she’s being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who won’t let you settle for anything less than you deserve.

“I hear you, okay? It’s just… it’s the way I’m wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,” you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.

“Good. You know what’s wrong with you,” Suzie says softly.

You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.

“Ow! What was that for?” you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.

“That's for being a pathetic little bitch.”

“Excuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,” you shoot back, trying to sound offended but it’s hard to keep a straight face.

“Sure thing, boss,” she laughs, and you join in.

“Okay, so what do you suggest I do then?” you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.

“Go on a date,” comes her swift response. “All that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.”

You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. “W-With you?”

“Dude, no! Not with me!” Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. “I mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.”

“Got it, got it,” you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. “Not with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Just meet someone.”

“You make it sound like it’s easy.”

“Because it is,” she says with a shrug. “Here. Give me your phone.”

Leigh doesn’t know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her.

So, she does what she does best: Pretend.

Leigh pretends you’re not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.

Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you don’t press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to.

Leigh pretends it doesn’t bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. She’s no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It’s not because you’re a woman—she’s been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasn’t exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. She’s been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.

And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isn’t enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.

She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.

Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, she’s been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didn’t mean to leave you hanging—she did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.

Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusion—or worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.

[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.

Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.

[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.

Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?

As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Logan’s supplies.

[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time ☺️

It’s still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.

[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I won’t forget this.

[7:57 PM] You: 😊😊😊

Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you won’t take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.

Danny isn’t too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him.

Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wants—and that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way she’s never experienced before.

Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors should—or even can—open again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.

And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend.

The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; it’s the same one they slip into whether they’re at Danny’s apartment or Leigh’s place—only now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home.

They're lounging by the pool, sipping Margaritas—Leigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phone—when your name comes up in conversation.

“So, how are things between you and Y/N?” Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.

Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. “What about me and Y/N?”

“I don't know... are you guys friends now?”

If Leigh weren’t so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Matt’s secret affair with you.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because you’ve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away.

“No, tell me,” Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.

“I just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,” he blurts out suddenly.

Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.

“Y/N didn’t even know Matt was married to me,” she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.

“Yeah? And you just took her word for it?” Danny doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.

“There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise,” Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. “I mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.”

Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delay—perhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.

“Look, I'm not saying don’t trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?”

Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspective—how you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?

Do you really like her, or is it all an act—a scheme?

But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.

“Danny, honestly,” Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, “if what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.” It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.

“But doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?” He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal.

Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. She’s merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.

“No,” Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. “I don’t see it that way anymore.”

Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that she’s doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh again—a single, actively dating woman in her early thirties—not as the young widow she was in her late twenties.

Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood:

“Yo, isn't that your brother's wife?”

Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.

A few hours later, you ‘like’ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, you’ve confirmed it yourself. But what does that ‘like’ mean?

Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another message—one that’s exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.

She's with Danny now.

Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels different—like she’s turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drew’s grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.

It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially him—albeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happy—deeply in love, free from the shadows of Matt’s depression, Leigh’s instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.

When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it is—a tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.

Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that star—simple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says “I love you” in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.

It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; it’s merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That ‘incoming traffic’ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.

She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. You’re still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.

“At least I didn’t make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say that’s significant progress,” you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grin—a smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.

“Speaking of progress, Logan’s due for his vaccines this week, right?” You remember the schedule clearly, not just because you’re good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of you—or at least that’s how you still see it.

“Oh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,” she says, chuckling, but there’s a serious undertone that tells you she’s committed to making good on her word this time.

“You better not,” you tease, “Can’t have Logan missing his shots. He’s still very young, and it’s critical we build up his protection against—”

“I won’t, Doctor,” Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. “So, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfast—”

Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. She’s stunning—slightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh can’t resist a quick, appreciative glance.

“Who's this?” the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.

“This is Leigh,” you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. “Leigh, this is Sara.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh?” Leigh’s smile is strained. “Nice to meet you, too.”

You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. “It's just down that street,” Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Actually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.”

You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. “Are you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.”

“No, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!” Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.

“Shall we?” Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place.

You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, who’s already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.

“Let's go,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.

Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She can’t quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.

Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?

And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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captainmalewriter · 6 months ago

Text

Superstar

Commission Story

“Dude check out my sweet pump! I swear to God I’m getting bigger!”

Xavier was checking himself out in the mirror while his best friend Carlos sketched something on a legal pad on the nearby living room couch. Carlos stopped drawing for a brief second and looked over at Xavier with lazy eyes.

“Yeah man, you’re getting real massive now,” Carlos lied. Xavier’s bicep looked exactly the same as the last time he checked. “Maybe I’ll ask you to spot me the next time I go for a PR.”

“Alright alright, cut the crap,” Xavier rolled his sleeves back down. “I can do without the teasing, thanks.”

“No I’m serious, X! You’re starting to look like me! C’mon, let’s compare sizes real quick.”

Carlos hopped off the couch and joined Xavier before the full-body mirror. He then took off his shirt in one smooth motion and flexed his muscular torso.

Having been in various sports throughout his life, Carlos boasted an impressive physique. He had strong, broad shoulders and absolute cannons for arms. Carlos took up most of the mirror space when he posed, which forced Xavier to step to the side. Having seen the same body repeatedly throughout the years, Xavier was no longer impressed by his friend’s athletic build.

“Nah, you’re still pretty small.”

Xavier poked Carlos at his side, where he knew he was most ticklish. Carlos jabbed Xavier in retaliation. Xavier returned the hit in kind. They would then continue exchanging blow for blow, hitting each other’s ticklish spots until one of them eventually called uncle. This was a game they frequently played ever since they first became friends.

Carlos and Xavier had first met in middle school when they sat next to each other in art class. They formed a homework pact soon after first meeting each other. Xavier helped Carlos with his science homework, while Carlos helped Xavier with his drawing assignments. Their mutual agreement led to them becoming best friends. On the outside, they looked like a stereotypical duo that would typically be at odds— Xavier being the scrawny, gay nerd while Carlos was the conventionally handsome, popular athlete, but anyone who knew either of them knew they had a lot of love for each other. Nowadays, even though they attended different colleges, they would still make time to hang out with each other often. Theirs was a friendship that survived the test of time.

“Alright alright, enough!! You win!” Xavier called out. They were both out of breath and red in the face after roughhousing, but that didn’t stop them from sharing a laugh and a bro hug.

Their loud, combined laughter stopped them from noticing when Carlos’ father, Enrique, arrived home from work. Enrique looked at them with a scowl plastered on his face. Xavier and Carlos both immediately stopped laughing when they noticed him. Carlos felt a cool breeze on his exposed skin, then hurried to put on his shirt, remembering he was shirtless.

“Dad!” Carlos said while slipping his shirt back on. “You’re home early—”

“What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be at summer practice already?”

“Not yet I don’t, practice doesn’t even start for another two hours!”

“What kind of loser talk is that?” Enrique crossed his arms and shook his head in disappointment. “How do you expect to stay ahead of everyone else if you’re not out on the field putting in the extra hours?”

“I’m fine, Dad, I don’t need extra practice hours.”

“Psh, that’s how it always starts. First, you stop going to practice early. Next, you stop going at all. Then, you start getting less and less playing time because you’re not playing as good as you once were. You’re going to lose your scholarship, Carlitos, is that what you want!?”

Xavier noticed Carlos’ eyebrows beginning to furrow and stepped in before he could respond.

“Hey, let’s just get going. Don’t wanna catch the midday traffic after all.”

Xavier helped himself out while Carlos lagged behind. Carlos gave his father one last cold stare, then began walking out. Enrique stepped towards him as he did so.

“And I want you to stop hanging out around that queer. He’s going to make you weak.”

Carlos stopped once he heard what his father whispered into his ear. He couldn’t believe what he had heard. He wanted to retaliate but couldn’t find the words to do so. All he could do was listen to his father’s dress shoes echoing down the hallway as he left. Carlos cleared his throat and went for his car, where Xavier was already waiting in the passenger seat.

The car ride to Carlos’ college, where summer practice was being held, started off silent and tense. Xavier looked over to his buddy as he drove them down the freeway. He knew Carlos wasn’t the type to show his emotions often, but he knew the dilemma over rugby and his father was eating him alive inside.

“Hey… Sorry about your Dad. He sucks.”

“Hmph, don’t be. You know he’s always been like that, I’m used to it,” Carlos responded.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep putting up with it. You need to tell him that you wanna pursue art.”

“It’s not that easy—”

“Why not?”

“Dude, c’mon, you know my Dad doesn’t give a fuck about my art. He just wants me to focus on rugby so I can keep my scholarship.”

“Well, can’t you just switch your program of study? He doesn’t have to know!” Xavier teased. Carlos didn’t laugh.

“Can’t. The school won’t allow it. Student athletes can only be in certain programs and art isn’t one of them.”

Xavier wanted to offer a rebuttal but couldn’t think of anything they hadn’t already considered. He stayed quiet and shrunk into the leather cushion of the passenger seat.

“You know, maybe my Dad’s right,” Carlos started. “There are worse things in life than being forced to play rugby. Besides, imagine all the money I’ll earn once I go pro. Maybe sticking with sports is the right call.”

“Dude, what about your art? Art can make you money too! I’ve seen your drawings and paintings, you’ve got talent! You can make it big, even bigger than with rugby!”

“You don’t know that,” Carlos sighed heavily as he stopped at a red light coming off the freeway. “I’m not saying I’ll stop drawing completely, but maybe that shouldn’t be the focus of my life right now. I need to stay in perfect shape if I wanna go pro with rugby.” Carlos turned his head to Xavier and held eye contact with him. His gaze softened.

“I appreciate you looking out for me, X, but I really don’t think art is in the cards for me. It’s gonna take a miracle to change my Dad’s mind, and I just don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

Xavier stayed quiet but gave an affirming nod, then looked away. As they pulled into campus, he pointed to the library.

“Drop me off there, I wanna check out some books,” Xavier said. Carlos did as requested.

“You’ve been hanging out at the library a lot lately. You’re not even a student here, what are you doing there?”

“Your school’s got an interesting collection on the history of alchemy, so I’ve been reading it. Nothing special, really.”

Xavier lied. For the past few months, Xavier hadn’t been studying the history of alchemy but rather how to practice alchemy. While he had started his research with a rudimentary understanding of medieval chemistry, Xavier soon discovered that alchemy could be used for way more things besides the old and tired turn-metal-into-gold gimmick. A sly smile formed on Xavier’s face as he finished reading the last alchemy book in the library collection. With a careful hand and enough determination, he could transform anything into anything! Including the human body.

Xavier was ready to put his knowledge into practice that very same night. Against Enrique’s wishes, Carlos let his best friend sleep in their spare room for the night. While they were sound asleep, Xavier’s mind was racing with all the possibilities the world of alchemy had opened up for him.

Once he finally settled on a plan, he went into action. Xavier crept into Carlos’ room while he was snoring peacefully. He tiptoed slowly, careful not to wake him up, and kneeled beside his bed.

“Alright… Just five minutes then I get out… For the sake of science, nothing more…”

Xavier reached out to Carlos and pulled down his white undershirt. Then, with the tip of his pointer finger, he drew a heart right over his actual heart. He whispered an incantation as he did so. Once he finished tracing the outline of a heart, Xavier lifted his finger and then firmly pressed the center of Carlos’ heart. As soon as he had done so, Carlos’ snoring immediately ceased. It worked. Xavier successfully transformed him into a bodysuit.

While Xavier was overjoyed that his little alchemy experiment had worked, he knew he had no time to celebrate. Xavier had no idea how long the transformation would hold so he hurried to put the Carlos bodysuit on.

He pried the bodysuit’s mouth wide open then stuck his face inside. Xavier pushed his way down Carlos’ throat. The bodysuit’s internal fluids acted as lubrication for Xavier’s body as he slithered his way inside. He could hear all the slippery, wet noises Carlos’ body was making as it expanded to take in another human body. It was a tight squeeze but with enough force, Xavier was able to force himself into Carlos’ body with one final push. He was in.

Nrrghh…

Xavier heard a moan as he laid inside the bodysuit. He wasn’t sure if it was him or the bodysuit, though that was the least of his worries. Xavier began to stretch his limbs out from inside of Carlos. As his limbs slipped into Carlos’ limbs like sleeves, the once limp bodysuit sprang to life. Slowly but surely, Xavier was able to move and feel through Carlos’ body.

Urghhhh fuckk!!

Xavier let out a loud moan from within Carlos as his senses adjusted to their new body. All at once, he felt the sudden shift in body weight thanks to all the muscle mass Carlos had. Xavier smirked as he ran his hands down his newly obtained firm pecs and chiseled abs. The light body hair brushed against his fingertips, sending electric, sensual sensations as he explored his borrowed muscular body.

Mmmm fuck yeah…

Xavier purred with Carlos’ voice as he continued checking out his new body. He kept a wide grin as he did so. Xavier could hardly believe how much of a success his little alchemy experiment was. Movement… speech… feeling, Xavier controlled it all!

Even though Xavier was already very familiar with Carlos’ well-toned body, being able to see it from an up close perspective spurred great excitement and pleasure. The tent forming in his sweatpants was a testament to that. Xavier looked at his growing boner with a devilish smirk. He wanted nothing more than to grab and massage his cock, but decided against it. After all, 15 minutes had already passed and he swore he’d only allow himself five minutes.

Xavier laid back down in bed and let himself out of his borrowed body. He was ejected from Carlos’ body with a loud slurp, leaving an empty bodysuit behind in the bed. Xavier looked down at the limp bodysuit as his senses readjusted. He was worried about possible side effects, but was relieved when Carlos began snoring again after a few minutes had passed. Thankfully, the bodysuit technique he had performed on him seemed to be temporary. Xavier went back to the guest room and practically collapsed on the bed due to fatigue. Performing alchemy and taking on a new body left him physically and mentally exhausted.

Xavier woke up late the next day. Despite having slept in, he was sore and with body aches, most likely due to the bodysuit experiment he had pulled during the night. Xavier stretched and rolled out of bed, wondering who he would use alchemy on next. He had woken up so late that Carlos was already gone for rugby practice, leaving him alone with Enrique.

Enrique was busy working out in the back. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, sunglasses, and a hat. Even from inside the house, Xavier saw how sweaty Enrique was from doing yard work in the hot sun. He watched Enrique toiling away with a hoe for a few minutes.

“Hm… He’s not a bad option for a bodysuit. Thicker body type, some muscle, lots of body hair, full beard… Yeah, he could definitely be some fun to take over for a spin…”

Then quickly retreated into the hallway when he saw him coming inside. He refused to interact with a man he knew hated him. From the safety of the hallway, Xavier watched Enrique as he took a break on the couch. Enrique noticed Carlos’ notebook sitting on the coffee table and audibly groaned in disapproval.

“I told him he needs to stop drawing… All this art bullshit is gonna get in the way of his focus! I need to hide this before he gets back home.” Enrique leaned his head back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes. All while not even noticing that Xavier was glaring at him with a growing vengeful lust.

Any hesitation Xavier had had disappeared when he heard Enrique’s plan. It was a simple plan with amazing benefits: Xavier would get to try out a dad bod, and because it was Enrique he’d be wearing, he could become his best friend’s dad and help him follow his dream of becoming an artist. It was a win-win situation!

Xavier waited a couple of minutes to make sure Enrique’s guard was down, then proceeded to take action. He crawled up to the couch and quietly positioned himself over Enrique. He then gently placed his finger on Enrique’s exposed chest and began outlining a heart, just like he had done with Carlos. Xavier’s finger practically glided along his chest because of how sweaty he was.

Hrmph… Hrm? What the—

Shit!!

Xavier was hoping Enrique had fallen asleep, but he was wrong. He was wide awake. Xavier finished performing the bodysuit ritual as quickly as he could. He managed to complete the ritual before Enrique could fight back. Enrique began transforming into a bodysuit. In a state of panic, Xavier hurried to put him on. He pushed his head into the mouth of the bodysuit and began forcing his way into Enrique’s body. He thought he was in the clear, but then he felt a rubbery hand holding him by the neck.

What are you doing!? Get out of me!!

Xavier heard Enrique’s voice rejecting his presence. He was shocked. He didn’t think someone could resist body invasion once they started turning into a bodysuit. It seemed like Enrique was a fighter! But so was Xavier. Xavier caught a whiff of Enrique’s sweaty musk as he fought his way in. The strong, masculine smell ignited a powerful lust inside of Xavier. He craved more and he was going to make sure he got it no matter what.

Xavier used his full strength to push himself in. Thankfully, although Enrique resisted against him, he was still turning into a bodysuit. The longer it went on, the less of a fight Enrique was able to put up. Xavier crawled his way inside of the dad bodysuit. Enrique’s body expanded and distorted as Xavier’s presence filled up the inside space. With one last burst of energy, Xavier was swallowed up by the bodysuit. The bodysuit began thrashing around on the couch as Xavier began stretching his limbs out into Enrique’s limbs.

Umphh… Stop…! Ughhnnn…

Enrique felt himself getting taken over by the young gay man as it happened. He absolutely hated the thought of it. He felt Xavier’s hands fill in his own hands like a well-fitting glove. He felt the same full sensation with his legs and feet. One finger at a time, one toe at a time, Enrique was completely powerless to fight against Xavier’s growing control over his body. And the worst part of it all was how good Enrique felt having someone wear him like a suit. As Xavier filled in the bodysuit from the inside, was hitting nerve endings Enrique didn’t even know he had. It sent shocks of pleasure that left Enrique jolting and moaning obscenely. His manhood was hardening and leaking precum from all the stimulation.

Aarrghhh fuckkkk!!

Xavier growled out with Enrique’s voice. He slipped his own cock into Enrique’s growing member like a personal dick sleeve, sending another wave of ecstasy throughout their shared body. An unwanted smirk formed on Enrique’s face once Xavier gained full control over his body. It was over.

Hey! Stop that!! Get your hands off my dick!!

“No way man! This cock’s mine now!!” Xavier teased. He made Enrique’s hands paw at their protruding package.

He then grabbed and lowered Enrique’s shorts with lightning speed. Enrique’s cock was at full mast and sprung out once it was released. Xavier whistled with delight as he admired his new cock. Enrique had a cock that was as thick as a beer can with a big tip and an unkempt bush of pubic hair too. After thrashing around from getting taken over, Enrique’s body was drenched and glistening with sweat. With a horny grin, Xavier lifted his arm and aired out his sweaty pit hair. The potent smell immediately filled his nostril. He leaned into his pit and took a deep sniff of his musk. The manly aroma fed his arousal, and made his already erect cock to grow even harder and longer.

Stop it! That’s gross!!

Xavier groaned when he heard Enrique complaining from inside his head.

“Are you sure, big guy? Seems like you’re into it too!” Xavier waved his erect member around, causing precum to drip around his hairy thighs.

Once Enrique quieted down again, Xavier decided to indulge. He leaned his face back into his ripe armpit and used his tongue to sip a few droplets of salty sweat hanging off his pit hair. He then took another few whiffs of his sweaty scent, groaning as he did so, then ran his fingers down his hairy torso. He stopped momentarily at his nipples to pinch them. Xavier loved the pain sensation jolting through his chest as he pinched his sensitive nipples. His hands continued slithering down until they finally reached his leaking manhood. Xavier ran his fingers through his new bush. His fingers got caught in the forest of thick, black hair. Xavier smirked as he tugged on his bush while his other hand began pumping his throbbing member— all while Enrique was conscious of him moving around with his body.

“Nrghh… fuck man!! Nghhh this feels so good…”

Xavier moaned loudly as he jerked off, much to Enrique’s dismay. Enrique couldn’t do anything but complain as Xavier had free reign over his body. Everytime he protested, Xavier moaned louder and louder until he stopped again.

This continued for about another five minutes until Xavier felt himself getting close. Once Xavier felt it, he grabbed his throbbing member with both hands and stroked ferociously. His pecs were bouncing up and down with every pump. He was dripping sweat everywhere from how intensely he was jerking off. Then, at the moment of climax, Xavier threw his head back and let out a sensual gasp as load after load of warm cum came shooting out of him like a fire hydrant. His cock was twitching and throbbing until every last load was pumped out of his heavy balls.

Xavier was breathing heavily. All of the body hair on his upper body became drenched and sticky with all the sweat and cum. He laid on the couch satisfied and completely relaxed, until he heard the garage door opening. Carlos was home.

“Oh fuck, not now!”

Xavier sprang to his feet and hurried to clean up after himself. He threw on his shorts and used nearby napkins to dry off his bodily fluids. No matter how hard Xavier tried, it made no difference. The couch was still soaking wet and he was still red in the face after his little tugging session, but it would have to do for now.

Carlos walked into the living room as soon as Xavier finished throwing away the evidence of what had happened.

“Hey Dad,” Carlos said.

“Hey… Son. How was practice?” Xavier said with a nervous stutter.

“It was fine, I guess.”

“Hey man, that’s really good to hear! I’m proud of you!”

“Yeah… thanks.” Carlos looked at him with a confused expression. He couldn’t access his mind even though he had perfect control over Enrique’s body. Without access to his memories, Xavier had to guess what Enrique would say. He was in uncharted territory, and he was terrified.

Carlos!! Hijo! Help me!! Your weird friend is controlling my body!!

Enrique was still shouting in Xavier’s head. Irritated, Xavier accidentally responded out loud.

“I swear to God will you just shut up already!?”

“I didn’t even say anything!!”

“Not you!!” Xavier looked over at Carlos. He shook his head to himself. “I’ve been feeling kind of weird today, I’m sorry.”

Carlos stood apprehensively for a brief moment, then lowered his guard again. “It’s alright, I understand. I had a really weird dream last night. I don’t feel like myself today either.” He took out a car key and offered it to Xavier. “Here, thanks for letting me borrow the truck.”

Not suspecting anything of it, Xavier tried reaching out for it. As soon as he did so, Carlos pinned against the couch.

“Fucking liar! I know it’s you in there Xavier!”

“Huh? No it’s not—”

“Save it. I know my Dad, and he would never say shit like ‘man’ or ‘I swear to God!’ What the fuck is going on!?”

“Okay okay I’ll tell you! Just let me get up first!”

Carlos did as asked. Xavier then explained everything to him. He explained how he used alchemy to turn Enrique into a bodysuit and took over his body and identity. Xavier explained that he wanted to help him pursue his dream of becoming an artist by taking over his dad’s identity. After he was done, Carlos stood up and paced around the room quietly.

“This is insane…” Carlos murmured. Xavier stayed quiet. “This is so fucking insane… And honestly? This might be the miracle I was praying for…”

Xavier was overjoyed that Carlos was on board with his plan. He pulled Carlos in for a bro hug, and after they hugged, Carlos told him to never do that again if he was going to act like his father from now on. Xavier chuckled and nodded.

“You got it, Carlitos, I’ll become an even better father than your dad ever was!” Carlos grinned.

“I’ll hold you to that, Dad.”

From then on, Xavier continued pretending to be Carlos’ father Enrique. Carlos had to teach him what to say and what not to say, but Xavier was a quick learner. Although Carlos still had to play rugby to keep his scholarship, he could finally devote more time to his artwork thanks to his father’s new attitude. Carlos was able to find success as a painter after he graduated. In fact, he had been invited to a gallery opening for rising new artists such as himself. His future as an artist was bright.

And while Carlos was busy making a name for himself, his best friend/new father lived happily too. Xavier loved his new dad bod, and so did the gay hunks at the local gym. They would never give him the time of the day back in his old body, but with his new DILF body? They were all over him. Although Enrique still occasionally complained in his head, Xavier learned how to ignore him. The old Enrique had become a distant memory over the years as Xavier and Carlos lived their best lives as a happy father and son duo.

Thank you for supporting!!

#male takeover #male identity theft #male body theft #male bodysuit #bodysuit transformation #musk #muscular #dad possession #commission story #commission

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