Work Text:
It was another day at the gambling bar. I was sitting there, drinking like always—it’s my only hobby. Suddenly, something caught my eye: a bunch of men surrounding someone, hitting him repeatedly. The man didn’t show any resistance. I stood up and approached them, but then I froze.
Is that him?
No, it must be the alcohol, because now I was seeing *Him*, but younger. His features were sharper, his hair shorter. Without hesitation, I took down the men; they were weak, and I was surprised why he hadn't fought back himself—he looked strong.
I offered him my hand, but he slapped it away angrily. "Why the fuck did you hit them? It’s none of your fucking business! You..." When he raised his head, he also froze. It looked like he had seen someone familiar, just like I did.
He stood up, fixing his clothes, then pushed past me and walked out. I didn't let him go; I followed him. "Hey, you!"
He didn't answer, so I grabbed his collar. "I'm fucking talking to you! Are you deaf or something?" I was furious. He was rude, didn't even thank me for helping him, and had the nerve to push me.
He moved my hand violently. "For your own sake, stay away from me." He looked at me with those sharp eyes. He might look like him, but his soul wasn't his. My eyes teared up, but I smirked. "And what if I don't?"
I challenged him, wanting to hit that face so much, but I couldn't. He closed his eyes for a second, as if calming himself down so he wouldn't kill me. When he opened them, he looked directly into my eyes, as if searching my soul. "Look, if you didn't look like someone I would rather die than hurt, I would have hit that pretty face of yours for involving yourself in my business."
He was about to leave, but I suddenly spoke, "Sleep with me."
He stopped and laughed. I didn't know if he thought I was crazy or what, but I didn't care. He turned back to me. "And why would I do that?"
I was surprised he didn't punch the fuck out of me. I approached him, looking confidently into his eyes. "You said I look like someone you know... and you too..." My tone softened for a second, then I regained my mask. "You seem to need money. I have money. Sleep with me, and I’ll pay you."
I lowered my gaze, waiting for the blow, but surprisingly he said, "Your house? Because my father is home."
I was shocked, but I masked it quickly. "Nah, my car would be fine for a one-night stand." I led him to my car, both of us walking toward a night that promised to blur the lines between the living and the dead.
We climbed into the car and stayed silent for a few moments. I offered him a beer; he took it and glanced around the interior. "So, is it yours?"
I shook my head. "No... someone gave it to me."
He scoffed, a bitter sound in the cramped space. "Oh, people give cars as gifts now? Or was he your sugar daddy?"
I looked at him sharply, my voice trembling with a warning. "Don't ever talk about him like that."
He rolled his eyes. "If he was that important, why didn't you just go and sleep with him? Why me?"
I lowered my gaze because my stupid eyes started to tear up again. "He's out of this world now... watching me, maybe."
I felt his hand suddenly grabbing my chin, wiping my tears gently with his thumb. Then he leaned in to kiss me. I kissed him back—our kiss was deep, mixed with the salt of my tears. It was as messy as the night itself. I felt his hands slide to my waist, and I leaned in closer, desperately searching for the warmth of his body to stop my shivering.
When we finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against mine. His voice was a low whisper. "You know, we can stop. You're shaking. We could—"
I didn't let him finish. I climbed onto his lap, kissing him deeply, refusing to let the silence take over again. I pulled back just an inch, whispering against his lips, "Please... I’m so lonely tonight. I don't want to be alone anymore. So please, don't stop... even if I seem like I don't want this."
This time, his kiss was different—more determined. His hands began to move over my body, tracing the lines of a ghost he didn't know he was replacing.
His lips traveled down to my neck, and I tilted my head to give him more space. When he bit down on my mole, I whispered breathlessly, "Don't... don't leave marks."
He moved his lips to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "Don't tell me what to do or not to do," he murmured before sucking on my earlobe.
A moan escaped me, "You're so fucking stubborn, I... ahh!"
He bit the sensitive skin between my neck and shoulder, then pulled back to look at me, a dark challenge in his eyes. "I'm what?"
I couldn't find my words. Suddenly, the car, the stranger, and the night blurred away. I saw **Niran**. I couldn't help it; I reached out and started kissing him again, my voice breaking into jagged sobs.
"Why did you leave me? You promised... you promised you’d always stay by my side. You're a fucking liar, Niran!" I was crying messily now, my hands pushing against his chest even as I tried to pull him closer.
Suddenly, he grabbed both of my wrists, pinning them down with a force that made me gasp. "I’m not fucking him! Look at me!!"
I blinked through the hot tears, my vision slowly clearing. My heart dropped into my stomach. He wasn't Niran. He didn't have Niran's gentle soul. He was still that stranger—sharp, angry, and very much alive.
"You know what? At least he’s dead. At least you know where he is," his voice cracked for the first time that night, the bitterness sharp in the air. "But me? He’s alive. He left me for his own reasons, and I had nothing to do but... I..."
He didn't finish. In that moment, I stopped being selfish. I looked at him, truly seeing him for the first time. "What's your name?" I whispered.
He didn't answer. Instead, he looked at me with a gaze that was both desperate and commanding. "Leave yourself to me tonight. Forget everything. Focus on me, and only me."
He pointed toward the back seat. Without a word, I moved, and he followed. The space was cramped, but it felt like the only world that existed. He began kissing me again, his movements more urgent now, while his hand slid under my shirt, his skin hot against mine as he traced the lines of my body.
I started to react to his kisses, pulling him closer by his neck, my shaky hands moving to strip his shirt away. He smirked when he realized I was finally responding. I had only ever known Niran’s touch before he died, but being with Saint felt different. It was raw. He was waiting for my every move, watching me, almost as if he were tasting me.
Saint’s patience was wearing thin. He wasn't a "Green Flag," and he certainly wasn't here to be gentle or to heal my broken heart. He was here for the money, and perhaps to satisfy a dark curiosity about the man who looked like his past but acted like a shattered glass.
He didn't wait for me to get comfortable. His movements became rougher, less like a dance and more like a conquest. When my hands fumbled with his belt, shaking too much to be effective, he growled in frustration and pushed my hands away, doing it himself with a violent tug.
"Stop shaking," he commanded, his voice cold and devoid of the comfort I was silently begging for. He pinned me against the seat, his weight crushing me.
He didn't care about the tears that were still drying on my cheeks. He leaned down, biting my shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise, marking me not out of love, but out of a desperate need to claim something in a world that had taken everything from him. He wanted to drown out his own pain by causing a different kind of intensity in me.
I gasped, my back arching against the cold leather of the seat. He wasn't Niran. Niran was silk and whispers; Saint was iron and silence. And in that moment, I realized that I wasn't being comforted—I was being consumed.
He was tasting me, but I couldn't stop. I looked at him and sobbed again, the grief pouring out of me uncontrollably. Suddenly, his gaze shifted; his eyes grew darker, and his features sharpened into something predatory.
"You know what? I’m here for the goddamn money, and you need sex," he spat, his voice like a whip. "So stop acting like a victim. I’m not forcing you—you’re the one who asked for this. So take it."
He ripped my shirt off forcefully. His kisses weren't gentle anymore; they were fueled by a raw, jagged anger. I tried to kiss him back, desperate to keep a connection, but he was too fast, too dominant. I reached up to put my hands on his shoulders, needing to hold onto something, but he caught both of my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head against the seat.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered in a cold, low command, "You’re not allowed to touch me until I tell you. And you’re not allowed to cry, either."
I gasped, trapped under his weight, looking into the eyes of a man who didn't want to save me—he wanted to break me. And in the silence of the car, I realized that tonight, I wouldn't find Niran. I would only find the consequences of my own desperation.
His kisses on my neck were painful; he bit me until I moaned in a mix of pleasure and agony. He moved lower, his lips burning a trail down to my stomach, stopping at the edge of my pants. I thought, for a split second, he might soften. I was wrong. Without a hint of care, he stripped me bare. I lay there, fully exposed under those angry, hungry eyes.
I was about to beg him to release my hands, but he had a different plan. He shoved two fingers into my mouth at once, cutting off my words.
I groaned, looking up at him through blurred vision. "Suck them," he commanded. I obeyed, my heart hammering against my ribs. He moved his fingers, thrusting them deep into my mouth. I was breathing heavily, my face flushed red and my eyes leaking fresh tears, but he didn't care. To him, I was just a body.
He pulled my legs up over his shoulders, finally releasing my wrists. I didn't pull away. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down, kissing him with a desperate hunger. It was as if I was becoming addicted to his cruel soul and those cold hands—hands that offered no comfort, only the harsh reality that I was still alive.
i felt his fingers entering me in one push he swallowed my scream in a kiss i started to cry again but not from sadness but i was so desperate for him "pls touch me" i was literally begging he smirked and looked at me with "so you like it then" he thrust deep i moaned my head went back he kept doing this i feel like I'm so close then he stopped looking at him with the corner of my eyes "cuming from my fingers only?" I snorted "fuck you..you" he flipped me into my stomach and opened his belt i feel him removing his pants I buried my head into the seat when he left one of my hips with his hand then started to enter me i bited my lips "mmm.." i feel his breath on my ears "you like it" i nodded then he entered me with one deep thrust then
he started to move inside me thrusting deep and hard i was moaning messy but this position wasn't comfortable i wanted to face him"hmmm...pls let me see you" my voice barely came out he flipped me into my back again and i grabbed him to a kiss again while he still thrusts in me i hugged his board shoulders he gives me a one deep thrust then come inside me his body collapsed into mine we were breathing heavily
none of us spoke til we sleep i woke up and finds myself still on the back seat the sun hurts my eyes and my body covered with his shirt who has his scent and i found a small paper i opened it " i didn't stole anything from you and i didn't want money that night was crazy enough and we won't see eachother again anyway so i just wanted to say life is worth to live even if you see only the darkness there was warmth into it it's not just the right time for you. Saint"