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nsharks · 1 year

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part eight —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: let's see how this trip goes

A neon-yellow lighter. A comb with a few teeth broken off. A deck of cards. That is what you have scrounged so far in this little convenience store that Blue convinced Ghost to stop in— the only stop in the village he will allow on the way to the military base. She spotted a rack of magazines from the window and the child in her begged him.

Fuckity fuck, Ghost. Please. Please. Please.

You’ve decided to sweep through the aisles to make this forced trip at least a little worth it for you. Broken glass and dust lay under the soles of your boots. All the food in here is gone, of course. The lighter you found can be useful.

Oh. You also found a corny romance book. You are in need of something to read, too. You left behind your old copy of A Farewell to Arms. You imagine that it was flattened to something unrecognizable by the mass of Greys.

You go to the aisle for toiletries. Again, these shelves have been licked almost clean. You fish your hand all the way to the back to see if anything could be there. You didn’t have time on your first trip to do much searching for anything other than medicine.

What your hand manages to knock against is a box. You pull it forward to inspect it. Gold packaging. Faded letters. It’s a box of condoms. First, you feel annoyed. It is useless to you. Expired, anyway. But then some memories come to mind along with a stir in your stomach.

Sex. Right. At one point, these were useful to you.

What you had told Blue the other day was mostly the truth. Coursework and exams meant that a steady relationship wasn’t on your mind back then. You were too young for it, anyway. You liked going out. You liked dancing with your friends. You liked meeting new people and sipping on drinks that were sweet enough to go down without a wince.

But what you didn’t tell Blue, and what you haven’t thought about in a long time, is that the last guy you had sex with was a little more than just someone you enjoyed the company of.

You trace your finger over the letters on the box, recalling the buried memory. A few weeks before the outbreak, you met him at a pub. He chatted you up. He was kind-eyed and sleek. A few years older than you. A jaw like the man in Blue’s magazine.

You didn’t even go home with him that first night. You just spent hours talking. And then texting. And then he took you out to that sushi place you loved in London three times because he saw that you were obsessed with the sashimi. He teased you for it. Finally, he invited you to his flat. He was different. He didn’t touch you until you touched him. You can remember it, that last time. The kissing. You whispered in his ear to take you to his room. He pulled out a box of condoms just like this.

The morning of the outbreak you remember telling your sister you might want something more from him.

She was thrilled to hear it.

There were a few people you texted that day to see if they were okay. Your parents, some close friends, and him. You never got a response from any of them. As you fled with Paul towards the forest, you’d dropped your phone. You only realized it later than night when you wanted to take it out and read over your old messages with him as a source of comfort.

Anyway, he was never your boyfriend, and he is now likely dead. Or Grey.

You haven’t thought about him for at least three years. Just another singed thread of an old life, unimportant to you now. Those losses are easier to deal with than the losses you had to actually witness.

You are just about to put the box back when a poke arrives on your shoulder.

“Hey, Twix, look what I found.”

Blue holds a solid stack of magazines against her chest. In her other hand, she holds up two bracelets with plastic, pink beads on them.

“Bracelets,” she smiles. “One for you and one for me.”

You raise a brow, then glance around. You spot Ghost at the front counter stuffing his backpack with cigarettes. His own treats, you suppose.

You look back at her. “Are you sure?”

She nods and offers one to you. As you slip it over your wrist, subconsciously hiding it under the sleeve of your coat, she says, “One of the books Ghost read to me talked about friendship bracelets. That can be this for us. I mean— we’re friends, right?”

“Oh. Um. Do you want to be my friend?”

“Well,” she slips her own bracelet on and waves her hand about, “Grim is my friend and he never saved my life before or gave me chocolate. So—” her voice turns hushed as if sharing a secret, “—I guess you are a better friend than him, huh?”

You bite a smile. “I guess so.”

Then, her eyes drift to the box still in your hand. “What did you find?”

“Huh?” You raise it up, almost having forgotten about it, and feel a warmth spread over your cheeks. “Oh, nothing, really.”

“What is it?”

“I-I don’t know, actually,” you splutter quickly.

“Maybe Ghost knows.” She rounds her lips as if ready to call for him but you shush her.

“No, no. Don’t ask him."

“Why not?”

“Because he—” you slide your eyes around, looking for the right excuse, “Because he doesn’t care for me, okay? I don’t want to bug him.”

“It’s not that he hates you or anything,” she assures you, sighing. “He just doesn’t trust you. Really, he isn’t so bad. He let you play would you rather with us, right?”

She is referring to the game that consumed the four-hour walk to get here. As you stepped over the same tree roots from your first journey, Ghost and Blue began a rather dark game of would you rather. Asking each other which gruesome death they would prefer. A humor she must get from him, you figured. Blue finally asked him: Can Twix play, too? He flashed you a look, jaw stiff, and you wanted to hide as you watched his eyes process this new name his daughter has chosen for you. To your surprise, he allowed it. Maybe to keep her calm, entertained, or both. You can’t say it wasn’t awkward for you, though.

Before you can protest again, she calls his name, and you regret not just telling her what they are.

He is quick to make his way over.

“Twix found something but she doesn’t know what it is,” Blue chimes, taking the box from your hand and passing it to him. You inch backward, your spine pressing into the shelves as you watch him realize what it is. Then, he offers you an unreadable glance, probably wondering why the fuck you would be looking at these.

His eyes shift back to her.

“Well,” Blue clicks her tongue. “Is it useful?”

“No.” He hands it back to her.

“What is it? Do you know?”

“Jus’ nothing useful,” he repeats, and she huffs, giving you an apologetic look and mumbling a sorry before tossing the box back on the shelf.

“Got ‘em all picked out?” He nods to her magazines.

She nods. “Yeah, I found some good ones.”

“We’re leaving, then.”

A clear sky hangs over your heads as you continue moving south. On your solo trip, you spent hours perusing Ribchester's streets, whereas now Ghost cuts right through, wanting to search the base before nightfall and then find somewhere safe to sleep.

There is no rain today, luckily. Even though it helps conceal your human scent, it also helps hide their rotten one, making it hard to detect them. It also can make shooting arrows trickier.

There is a light wind that howls like a moaning widow through the empty buildings, drowning out the sound of all three pairs of booted footsteps. Just as you told Ghost, there aren’t many of those fucks here. Their smell lingers in the air but most of them are probably trapped in the buildings and cars. Still, you keep your bow armed and Ghost clutches his handgun. Only one finds you here, but it isn’t much of a threat. A slow and pitiful one with a twisted leg that drags as it clambers out from an alleyway.

It catches the human scent, its pale eyes pointing toward the three of you.

They love the smell of living flesh. From your experience, they love the smell of fresh blood even more, but luckily none of you are bleeding, or else more of them certainly could've been drawn out like cockroaches.

Upon one look at it, you can tell this Grey must have been infected years ago, a woman tattered without any hair left on her skull. The thing is, the longer they have been infected, the longer their muscles have been rotting away. They grow slower.

For some reason, Ghost doesn't pull the trigger of his gun even though you know he sees and smells it like you do. He doesn't even reach for the axe tucked at his waist. You have never encountered Greys with him. You suspected he'd be quick to kill them. Confused, you aim your arrow and close one eye for precision, but a firm hand falls on your arm and forces you to lower it.

You give him a furrowed look.

He drops his hand and nods to Blue, who has been sticking close to his side.

"All yours, kid."

"Do I have to?" She puckers her lips in disgust and touches the fabric of his black coat.

"Good practice for you."

"With my knife?" she sighs dutifully. "Or the gun you gave me?"

"Knife. Save the ammo.”

The Grey is still a few paces away, but slowly trudging closer, enough that its flayed snarls sound over the wind.

Blue pulls out the knife from her pocket. You stand back and watch as she hurls it towards the head, but the blade pierces its neck instead, splitting the stringy flesh and exposing a larynx.

She winces.

"S'okay. You've got another," Ghost says.

She nods and reaches for the second knife strapped to her ankle. This time, her knife finds the skull, audibly cutting through bone and brain.

“Good. Now go get ‘em.”

You understand why he made her practice this. They don’t encounter them often in the forest, but he still wants her prepared— get her used to doing it on her own for the day she might not have him there. It is a reminder of what it means to be a parent in this world, and you don’t envy him for it.

Blue twists her knife out from the skull, some chunks of grey brain bubbling out, and she scrunches her nose but doesn’t seem too bothered. Before she runs back over, she mouths words to it just as you have seen her do to the dead animals. You can’t make them out.

“Sometimes I wonder what it’s like being one of those fucks,” she announces as you keep walking. She taps a finger to her temple. “I just wonder if you still remember your old life or have dreams and stuff. Or does your brain just not work at all?”

“They aren’t people anymore,” Ghost reminds her gruffly.

“I know, I know.”

“I don’t think they have dreams,” you quietly add. “They don’t sleep.”

“But maybe they are sort of sleeping,” she says. “Like sleepwalking. And maybe they are dreaming the whole time about things they remember from being a human.”

“No,” Ghost says. “They’re as good as dead. Don’t go thinkin’ like that.”

“I’m not saying I feel bad about killing them. I know they aren’t real people anymore,” she mumbles, kicking at a rock. She looks at you. “Twix, what would you do if you got bitten?”

Ghost mutters a Jesus Christ under his breath.

The question throws you off, even though it is something you have mulled over often. You hesitate, before honestly answering, “I think I would just kill myself.”

“Ghost would, too. Well, actually, our plan is for me to shoot him in the head and then run back home. Right, Ghost?”

He hums his response.

It must be a plan he reviewed with her before leaving.

A plan that he has ingrained into her brain from an age too young to fully comprehend the potential reality of it.

There are another ten kilometers to walk to get to the military base. The sore toes cramped in your boots and the growing blister at your heel wishes Ghost took the truck, but whatever his emergency plan is, it must call for every drop of fuel he has.

The terrain transforms back to soil and trees as Ghost departs from the road, and the rotten smell in the air remains faint. The game of would you rather resumes, but Blue quickly grows bored of it. Instead, she begins to poke at you with some questions as she likes to do. She seems to be more comfortable doing it in front of Ghost. It’s not like he can keep her away from you out here.

“So, Twix, how old are you exactly? You never told us.”

You tell her.

“Shit balls, Ghost,” she nudges a hip to his side. “You really are an old man.”

“Fuckin’ hell. I’m not.” He nudges her back, a bit too hard, because she practically stumbles, but it only makes her laugh more. “I’m just your old man, kid.”

Luckily, her questions stick to the minute things, and she doesn’t bring up sex again. Your favorite animal. If you have any tattoos. You should see how many Ghost has. Of course, you have only ever seen the skin of his hands a few times and the skin around his eyes.

The sound of rushing water is what quiets her.

You make it to a river.

Ghost leads you to where a bridge must have been on his map, but all that remains of it is a narrow beam of rusted metal and nothing to hold onto.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Dad.”

Blue peers down the cliff and you take a look with her. The water isn’t moving too fast, but it must be freezing, and walking around in wet clothes is a sure way to get hypothermia. Ghost doesn’t have much of a choice.

He has her walk close in front of him and keeps both hands firm on her shoulders. You don’t have anyone to help you. You tighten your core to keep yourself upright, watching each step you take. Right, left, right, left. The wind dissuades you with nudges against your left side. You pause for a moment and look up.

They are already across.

You hear Blue shout just as your left foot slips. Air whirls around you and your arms instinctively jut out to grab hold of the beam. You hang from it, breathing hard from your nose. Your bare hand clutches the sharp edge and earns you a cut into your palm, but the pain is easy to ignore. Your ears ring. You muster all your strength to hoist yourself up, but it’s not quite enough, and you almost lose your grip.

Hissing, you look down at the water that laps between rocks beneath you. Maybe you should just fall in. Your skin prickles as you imagine the icy water engulfing you and soaking your clothes.

Hypothermia. Another real threat in this world. You recall the chapter from one of your textbooks. It can set in quickly. There wouldn’t be enough time for you to make it back to the village and search for dry clothes. You should’ve brought your extra pair of old ones. You didn’t even think—

What ends up engulfing you is warmth.

You are pulled up with ease and drawn close to a hard chest. Ghost locks an arm around your waist to steady you and naturally, you lean into his hold, your boots finding their place again on the beam.

You pant. For a moment you just stand there, before you start walking again, this time with him close behind you as he holds your shoulders just as he did with Blue. Because of the proximity, you can detect the rise and fall of his chest against your back. Underneath his thick coat, the muscles of his core are tightened just as yours are in order to keep his balance.

He couldn’ve just let you fall. Blue must have asked him to help you back up.

You find your voice when you are almost across. Blue watches with her hands tucked in her pockets.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

What he tells you, warm brass in your ear that arrives in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard from him: “Don’t become a liability for me out here, Twix.”

It unnerves you, the message that lies in his words. What he means to say is he has no problem leaving you behind if he has to. Letting you die.

But what unnerves you even more is the shudder that hums through your spine from the soft drawl of his voice in your ear, uttering this new name for you when he has never even once used your real name, and the way that his filtered breath works its way down your neck. Even though he has growled threats of murder in there multiple times, you find yourself not minding if he has a few more to offer just so you can hear his voice like this again. So quiet. Probably so Blue doesn’t hear.

But he doesn’t offer anything else.

Maybe you are just in shock. Maybe you are just glad to not be freezing, and his warmth has given a confusing relief. You swallow the strange thought and find a nice burial spot for it next to your grief.

When your boots make it to the soil, his hands drop and you turn around to face him. Annoyance finally finds you. Of course, his help arrives at the same time that he warns you of the limited supply of it he is willing to offer.

Through your teeth, you say, “I won’t.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #cod #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #call of duty #zombies

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foliosriot · 6 months

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Love’s The Death Of Peace Of Mind — Pt. 3

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

warnings: angst and more angst

tags: @thisbicc @lma1986 @mrscevans @catj422 @thebadchic @blackveilomens @likeavilliansposts @veronicaphoenix @circle-with-me @lilhobgobbler @loeytuan98

masterlist. tdopom masterlist.

Today is the day.

Today is the day Noah comes over so you two can talk and work through what happened to your friendship, and your relationship overall.

You’ve been pacing around your apartment for the past few hours, music playing loudly from the TV in the living room. Purposefully taking a break from Bad Omens you have Sleep Token on repeat instead. But the change didn’t help much. You ended up skipping Give anyways.

Now you’re just anxiously fiddling with the bottom hem of your sweater as the entirety of Sleep Token’s discography comes to an end. The sudden lack of music makes you pause your pacing.

Then, because your brain has been torturing you all day — and this wouldn’t be anything short of it — you hurriedly turn on THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND. The opening track has you immediately calming down, and there’s a part of you that fucking despises that.

But you’re still pacing as you listen to the album, your lips moving as you wordlessly sing along. Your fingers are constantly playing with your sweater’s hem, and you may have just realized it’s one of Noah’s that he must have left here on accident. You have half a brain to make your way to your room to change before there’s knocking at the front door.

It scares you, nearly has you jumping out of your skin. And as much as you want to pretend like you aren’t home, or crawl to bed and roll yourself into a cocoon of blankets, you know you can’t avoid this any longer.

You don’t think to pause your music or turn it off entirely until you’re already opening the front door to reveal Noah standing before you. He gives you a soft smile, though you can tell he’s nervous and probably riddled with anxiety just like you are. But you quietly greet him and step aside to allow him entry.

It’s jarring to see him in person like this. Last time you saw him face to face was the last time you’d been … together. The two of you had been here, at your apartment, and you suddenly have difficulty shoving away that memory.

A hand at your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you pleasantly lightheaded. Your fingernails leaving thin red lines down freckled shoulders and a tattooed back. Hickeys and roaming, greedy hands turning into gentle kisses and softly uttered praises. Neither of you acknowledging the blatant shift in your movements, but you continue giving and taking equally anyways.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you nearly run into Noah, who had stopped once he entered the living room. You take a step or two backwards to see him staring at the TV screen still alive with Bad Omens. With his music. With the songs he wrote about you.

The sad smile that appears on Noah’s face is fleeting at best. But it’s gone in a flash when he eventually looks away. You take that as your chance to run to the remote and turn off the TV, relieving both of you of the obvious torment you had been experiencing.

In the quiet of your small living room you hesitantly sit down on one end of the couch, to which Noah copies your actions. He sits on the other end, and it sparks even more buried memories of yours. You’re almost certain Noah is remembering those as well.

“You like the album, then?”

Noah’s voice startles you. You jerk slightly but you quickly recover to meet his eyes. He’s already looking at you, and shit — if this doesn’t feel like déjà vu.

“Uh, y-yeah, I really like it,” you stammer. “But I already Motionless In White’s new album is gonna be even better.”

You aren’t sure why you say it. But the slight teasing in your voice is definitely there, no matter how weird it may have felt rolling off your tongue. And the way Noah is looking at you has you thinking he knows you’re messing with him, if the slight quirk of his lips is anything to go off of.

You both stay silent after that. Your chest is tightening the longer the quiet drags. And you can feel Noah’s gaze on you, his eyes taking in the sight of you for the first time in a long time. Or maybe it’s because you’re wearing his old sweater.

“What happened to us?”

Noah’s gentle voice jerks you out of your head. You slowly look to him expecting to see him watching you still. But he had averted his eyes, and he was now staring at the picture frames nailed to the wall above the small shelf that has all of your DVDs, CDs, vinyls, and tapes. It almost feels like a tidal wave when you realize there are photos of the two of you on display.

“Do you want the full truth or the half-truth?” you ask him as your fingers migrate back to that stupid bottom hem.

“Full truth.”

He’s still taking in the wall of memories, not looking away for even a moment. Your throat bobs as you prepare yourself to talk.

“Noah, I need you to know that you are my best friend in the entire world,” you begin quietly. “Even if we haven’t talked for awhile. You are one of my favorite people on this planet, and I don’t know what I would do without you. What happened between us is on me, and I really need you to understand that.”

“If this is just an elaborate way to say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, save it,” Noah says, his tone cold. “I gathered that when you stopped talking to me.”

Okay. You’ll admit: that hurt.

But it’s true, and you need to let him know why.

“No, it’s not that.” Your eyes are beginning to burn with gathering tears. “Ever since we met I’ve struggled to understand what I feel for you. I thought we were just friends, but, over the years, there were things you would say or do that made me think otherwise. So I guess I kinda played in to it. Then that night at your place, and the times after that, I … It made me think there was actually something between us. But after the last night together I freaked out and distanced myself from you because I was scared you didn’t feel the same. I couldn’t keep denying my feelings for you, so I distanced myself so neither of us would get hurt.”

You sniffle before continuing. “I’ve wanted to talk to you about this since that first night. And then the album dropped and I lost control over what I have been feeling for years. I never wanted to push you away like that. I was being selfish and and I was so fucking scared, and I never bothered to think about if you would be hurt in the process.” You bite your bottom lip as a few tears crawl down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Noah. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did. I never wanted this.”

Noah is quiet. He’s still facing away from you, and you’re beginning to think this was a bad idea. But he shifts slightly, his head moving slowly in your direction. Then he stops, and you think you see a tear or two staining his cheek.

Your skin is starting to itch profusely as you anxiously wait for Noah to say anything. You’re growing uncomfortable and you wish time would just freeze.

But then Noah speaks, his voice awfully quiet.

“I thought there was something too,” he starts. And it is blatantly clear that he had begun to cry as well. “Honestly, I would have been totally fine with the first night being a one-time thing. And then it happened again and again, and I thought that must have meant something. But when you ignored me after the last time I thought you had just used me and didn’t want to see me again. Like, you somehow knew how I feel and couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge it.

“Now knowing how it tore you up as well almost makes the pain a little more bearable,” Noah continues with a halfhearted laugh. “I guess I just don’t understand why it happened the way it did. We could’ve talked and worked through it, like we always fucking have. So why was this the thing that drove us apart? I mean, we definitely have feelings for each other. We both thought there was something for years, and it’s been confirmed. So, I guess the question still stands…”

Noah’s words have your heart lodging itself into your throat. More tears have fallen from your eyes, each one streaking down your face and slipping from your chin as you keep your eyes on Noah.

“I don’t know why that was what drove us apart, Noah,” you admit in a broken voice. “But I want to fix it. I really want to fix this rift we’ve made. ‘Cause I— I-I miss you.”

You watch Noah finally turn his head so he’s looking straight you. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and there are a few apparent tear stains on his face. But he looks hopeful and content with your response.

“I miss you, too,” he murmurs. “And I wanna fix whatever happened, regardless of the outcome.”

Noah gives you a soft smile that you return without a second thought. You sit staring at each other for a minute before you have to force yourself to finally glance away. Taking a deep breath you pull the ends of your sleeves over your hands and fingers, then wipe at your eyes.

The worn fabric of your Noah’s sweater rubs against your skin and leaves red in its wake. You catch Noah looking at you for a moment before he obviously processes what you’re wearing.

“Is that my sweater?” he queries quietly.

“Oh, yeah. I think you had left it here on accident once,” you begin rambling. “God, I didn’t even realize I was wearing it until you got here. I can give it back to you—“

“No. Keep it. It looks much better on you.”

Noah’s words have your face heating up. You go silent as he gives you another one of his small yet softest smiles. Your mouth hangs open for a few seconds, then you’re snapping your teeth together as your heart continues racing relentlessly.

His own face is reddening with blush, but you don’t comment on it. Instead, you reach back for the TV remote and wordlessly turn on Howl’s Moving Castle. The movie has been a shared comfort for both you and Noah, and you know he would love to watch it with you after so long.

You struggle to hide your grin as you get comfortable against the couch. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Noah has been stunned into silence at the movie selection. But you ignore him as much as you can as you listen to him kick off his shoes and settle into his own spot on the couch, the beginning of the beloved movie illuminating the screen.

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

a/n: ok i’m planning on AT LEAST one more part, so let me know if you wanna be tagged when it’s out!!

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #alex! ❪ 𖤐 ❫#alex’s writing! ❪ 𖤐 ❫

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elysiumarchieve · 1 year

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Got any Scara sleeping / cuddling headcanons? ♡

sleeping scara is a blessing honestly

scaramouche sleeping/cuddling headcanons

warnings: scaramouche's past, angsty fluff?? it's mostly fluff but it's scaramouche what do you expect at this point

✧ scaramouche does not have a decent sleeping schedule

✧ in fact, being a puppet formerly created to hold onto a gnosis, i don't think he actually requires sleep in the same way that normal humans do - it was something that already bothered him during his time as the nameless eccentric wanderer

✧ unlike all other humans, he did not feel sleepy or tired in the same way they did. emotionally drained, yes, and there was also this dull aching in his chest, but no signs of weariness

✧ however, closing his eyes nowadays brings back memories he would rather like to forget and bury in a dark place within his mind, memories that remind him of how cruel betrayal was and how much he despised everyone

✧ and considering that he was seemingly tossed aside by his own creator for crying in his sleep, he even hates sleeping, so have fun trying to get him to rest his eyes

✧ scaramouche refuses to sleep nor to rest near you. he doesn't require it, so why should he lay down? is he supposed to bore himself to sleep for eight hours straight?

✧ if you sleep, that's completely fine with him. you're human and it's only natural for your weak body to rest - otherwise you might end up suffering even more from your lack of sleep (and he doesn't need to have a tired and groggy s/o tagging along)

✧ the rare moments in which you'll ever keep a glimpse of how he presumably could look like while he's asleep is when you wake up in the middle of the night

✧ with one arm around your shoulder and gently holding you close to him, you can't even feel a muscle move or a single sound from him - at first you might even believe he's actually dead because he doesn't even breathe (does he even need to breathe is a legitimate question at this point)

✧ in case you're lucky enough you might even have to chance to glance up at his face to see how his face actually looks relaxed

✧ his eyes are closed and his eyebrows aren't knitted together as when he's talking to anyone below his value

✧ it almost feels unreal to see him like this, calm and not snapping at people who bother him; especially since most of the time, you'd find him staring into nowhere particular and he'd call that 'resting'

✧ you have no idea what he dreams of and neither would he ever tell you. his dreams aren't worth mentioning and besides, why do you even believe the balladeer of all people dreams?

✧ you might catch his eyebrows move a little before his eyes just violently snap open and he's back from 'resting his eyes' for five minutes. he almost looks,, sad? there's a look in his eyes that whatever he just saw were things he actually wishes to leave behind

✧ if he catches you staring at him, he'll ignore you and simply tell you to stop gawking at him. if you managed to remain undetected however, you can practically feel how his hand around your arms tightens a little - not to hurt you but to actually feel that you're right next to him

✧ scaramouche doesn't really 'cuddle'. he doesn't see the necessity for it and thus deems it as unnecessary for him. but if his s/o wishes to cuddle him to go to sleep, he'll probably groan but do it anyways

✧ cuddling with him is kind of,,, complicated. he's stiff, doesn't really know where to put his hands and in the end, he'll only complain about it which makes this entire thing even worse

✧ he genuinely has no patience for any of this and he thinks it's below him to learn how to 'cuddle' with you. however, since it's you, he'll try (while complaining and groaning about the entire ordeal)

✧ while he's somewhat stiff, he tries copying what you do to him - but he's completely silent while doing it which makes it somewhat uncomfortable. in a way, you two look absolutely ridiculous

✧ if you happen to fall asleep on him, congrats, he ain't having it. what if he needs to move and you lay right on top of him? he can't have that

✧ however, what is rather sweet of him is that he wouldn't simply push you off of him - if you fell asleep on him he'd try waking you first. if that fails, he'll do his best to get you off almost too carefully before putting you in your bed and leaving you there while he goes about what scaramouche does in his free time

✧ scaramouche, however, never thought however how comforting it was to just lay there and feel the steady beating of your heart when he holds you, and just listen to it - no thinking, no tragic memories crossing his mind, just the besting of your heart and your gentle snores if you had fallen asleep

✧ in fact, it's enough to make even him drowsy enough and help him close his eyes even for a few minutes (hours?). when his eyes usually open again it's bright outside and he curses you for cursing him in such a cruel manner (what if you disappear or betray him? is he getting weaker again?)

✧ actually, he doesn't even understand how you manage to fall asleep with him, but he always makes sure to remind you that you look stupid in your sleep (you don't)

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin #kunikuzushi #headcanons #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader

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ofsappho · 1 year

Text

Heartless, Chapter 2

🔞 Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience, SMUT

Your wedding night. Tags under read more.

Tags: degradation kink, praise kink, size kink, consent negotiation, they egg each other on, gaslight gatekeep girlboss reader, pet names (whore, love, doll, good girl, pretty girl, bitch (yes this is used as a pet name I promise))

You watch the military chaplain sort through the prepared marriage license while the world’s largest butterflies do artistic gymnastics in your stomach.

Soap is the religious one out of the two of you, the Catholic one. You would’ve preferred a judge and a courthouse wedding more than this. But there was no time, and the headache of getting an American recognized by the multi-national special forces whatever-the-fuck just wasn’t worth it.

So a chaplain it is.

Soap has told you little about the soldier you’re set to marry. In his defense, he argued that there was very little to tell. Lt. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley’s personnel file is too classified for a mere civilian, and there are only two single-sided sheets of paper’s worth of information in there anyways.

The bare bones - he’s British. (Of course, he is.) He wears a mask that he never takes off. He’s served many tours, in many places. And while Johnny was remarkably diplomatic about the wording, he did caution you that Ghost’s reputation precedes him and terrifies almost everyone who hears it. With good, justified cause.

Lovely.

But the cold, crawling fingers of desperation and the memory of the times when you couldn’t afford to go to the doctor reminded you of your priorities. And so you have agreed to bind yourself to some dude with a ridiculous, overwrought moniker.

After more than a few years of dealing with medical bureaucracy, military bureaucracy is hardly a match for you. You’ve come prepared with the family accommodations application filled out. You have copies of your identifying documents, birth certificates. The basic background check completed.

Once this is done and solemnized, Soap has volunteered to run it personally to his commanding officer like a good little messenger boy. An early wedding gift, he called it.

You’ve asked him for a Keurig just to be an asshole. And whether or not he got one, for real, Soap won’t say.

All that’s left is to… well. Say the vows and hope no one looks close enough to demand ‘proof.’ Like you’re in some awful fucking medieval romance novel. It’s 2023. You refuse to relinquish any bedsheets. Gross. And they’re expensive.

Lt. Riley still has fifteen minutes before the ceremony is supposed to start.

You’re only early out of an abundance of caution and anxiety. There was only so much sitting around in your old apartment and waiting for the clock hands to move you could take, not after you spent all night packing your life into your car and then climbed out onto your roof to watch the sunrise.

The next one you see, you will be a wife.

Even though Soap refused to show you a picture of Lt. Riley, you did your best to look somewhat presentable. For the pictures. And maybe a little bit for him.

The nicest dress you own, the jewelry you always wear.

Shit. Jewelry. Ring.

“Soap. Soap. I don’t have a ring.” Oh, that’s just your fucking luck, isn’t it? You have remembered literally everything. Your potato masher, your books, and the last of your immunosuppressants are packed into a cooler filled with ice.

Other than the one thing you absolutely need.

Your friend stares at you from the corner of his eye. “What do you mean, you don’t got a ring?”

The chaplain’s going to turn and ask what’s wrong any second.

Before he notices, you grab Soap’s bicep and drag him into a corner as the last of your forced calm flees. “I don’t have a ring,” You hiss as your polished nails dig into his dress uniform.

That’s something you should thank him for after this calamity passes. At least your maid of honor is appropriately attired as if this were a real wedding. Or maybe Johnny is a matron of honor because he hasn’t been a virgin in years? Whatever.

His exasperation is less than reassuring. “Alright. Calm down. Calm down, lass. We’ll sort that out later-“ The chapel doors open, cutting him off.

Wow. You thought that Soap was kidding about the mask. That’s a mask.

A balaclava. With a skull on it. Edgy.

Oh, but he’s tall. Taller than you, taller by a couple of inches than Soap. That must really piss your friend off. He is… very tall. And heftily built.

No dress uniform. Just a black sweatshirt showing ripples of defined, bulky muscles underneath and dark wash jeans. And eye black obscures the skin around his eyes, everything his mask doesn’t cover.

It seems impractical, though you can’t deny the shiver of awe that flicks through your nerves when Lt. Ghost meets your inquisitive gaze. His irises are so dark that you can’t distinguish his pupils, leaving you with the impression of looking into twin black holes.

Do you shake his hand? Do you…

You wait for him to make the first move, and he makes no move at all.

“Hi, Lt. Riley,” You say softly, almost timidly. First impressions tend to go better when you make yourself smaller.

For a moment there, you almost think he didn’t hear you. You watch him narrow his eyes as if you’re more than what he was expecting. “License?” He asks after a painfully long awkward silence.

You shove the other papers at Soap, so you have a spare hand to find it. And if you conveniently remain deaf to his protests at being used as a shelf? That’s what maids of honor are for - whatever the bride need.

“License? Oh- uh, yeah, here.” The half-completed form crumples slightly in his hand. It’s from those bulky gloves, and you die a little inside at the sight.

When he hands it back to you with a messy, scrawled signature at all the highlighted blanks, you turn your body away to ensure he overlooks your vain efforts to smooth it out. “Just call me Ghost.”

Damn, this one wrinkle won’t come out. The chaplain will think you’re unprofessional. “Okay, Ghost,” You respond absentmindedly. He hovers in the corner of your eye like his namesake, which is annoying. It’s not as if you’re hiding a fucking bomb over here-

And you stop thinking that immediately. You know, in case they can read minds in this heavily guarded, highly secret special forces base or utilize some tinfoil hat conspiracy theorist's secret weapon. That’s mostly an inside joke you have with yourself. You leave a little room for healthy paranoia to offset the healthy humor.

The chaplain and his small glasses interrupt now that the groom has arrived, and you hand him the still-messed-up license with an embarrassed flush on your cheeks. Thankfully, he takes it without complaint. Maybe a little judgment - and then you remember you have that issue with the rings. There will be more judgment to come.

“Are you ready to begin?” The middle-aged man asks.

Ghost nods almost at the same time you do.

“We are gathered here in the presence of this witness for the purpose of uniting in matrimony Lt. Simon Riley and…”

You tune out the entirety of the cookie-cutter wedding ceremony. The chaplain goes on and on, all sorts of shit about love and forever that you know he has to say but is remarkably humorous in light of your circumstances.

Lt. Riley’s eyelashes are blonde. You couldn’t see it before, but now that you’re inches from him, you can’t look away. They’re a pale platinum blonde that stands out against his dark eyes like threads of ice, and you count each one. Fascinating.

The chaplain clears his throat, then gestures for Ghost to take your hand.

The glove stays on. But he is gentle about it, gentler than what seems natural for his movements. “Do you take Lt. Riley to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish as long as you both shall live?” That’s laying it on a bit thick, you think.”

“I do,” You say, voice low and confident.

“Do you, Lt. Riley, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish as long as you both shall live?”

Something shifts in his gaze. He tilts his head to the side and tracks the features of your face, your full mouth, and your cheekbones. “I do.” You wouldn’t even know where he was looking, had it not been for the stark whites of his eyes darting back and forth.

“The rings?” Your officiant asks.

You hear Johnny stifle a chuckle. Damn him for standing so far away; if he were closer, you’d step on his foot with your heel. “We- the rings are in the mail. They haven’t gotten here yet.” You smile winningly as you hold the chaplain’s bemused stare, practically daring him to call out your poorly-concealed lie.

Ghost hasn’t let go of your hand this whole time. Even he lets out a small huff after seeing your perfect poker face.

“I see. Then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

You won't kiss him in front of everyone if he doesn’t lower his mask. As he obviously won’t, you stand on your very tippy-toes and kiss his cheek like you’re at a middle school dance.

Then it’s done, and you’re married.

Ghost pulls his hand back as if you’ve burned him, then steps away before you can ask him any questions.

Just as you try to chase him- “Congratulations, lass,” Soap exclaims, sweeping you into a hug that lifts you off the ground.

It’s got a hell of a lot more than excitement in it; you can feel his relief, and he goes as far as to kiss your forehead like a brother before letting you down.

There’s nothing on earth you can do to repay him. “Thank you. Really. Thank you.” For a moment, you’re children again—two kids against the world.

Johnny takes the license and the rest of your paperwork. “Gotta run this to Chief Laswell. But- you’ll be fine. Don’t be too scared.” You can tell he’s fucking around, but there’s an edge to his voice that you don’t love.

No person can be scarier than a hospital bill. “Worry about yourself, Johnny,” You tell him.

It takes a second for the steel in your eyes to reassure him. Eventually, he nods. “Good luck.” Then he makes his way to Ghost.

They speak in murmurs too quiet for you to hear, and you can see Soap grip his forearm tight enough to bruise. Then they come to some sort of silent consensus. Ghost’s mask gives away absolutely nothing, but your friend seems satisfied enough.

“Uh- pardon me, I’m sure Lt. Riley and yourself are eager to… celebrate the evening.” The chaplain’s acting like you and Ghost are about to start going at each other right here, right now.

That is a known stereotype for hastily-married couples, and he’s probably seen some traumatizing things in this very chapel. Either way, you coordinate a retreat into the hallway to give the poor man a break.

Ghost holds the door open for you, and you wonder what torture Soap promised to get him to do that. He doesn’t seem pleased. You’d tell him that he doesn’t need to bother, but you’re not so invested in Ghost’s immediate happiness, and that’s a lot of work.

Someone’s waiting for you in the corridor. A poor uniformed soldier has been conscripted into acting as envoy on behalf of the Special Forces, and he asks you both to follow him to your temporary quarters.

Right. Yes.

Ghost doesn’t say a word. He matches your steps with uncanny accuracy, and you’re beginning to understand why people sincerely call him by his preferred moniker. It’s fucking freaky, how quickly and efficiently he moves without any sound at all. You might even forget he was there if not for the heavy, uncomfortable weight on your back that reminds you he’s still watching.

Then the soldier rounds a corner and presents you with an open door. The lights are on, and a bouquet of fresh flowers is on the table inside with a little white card.

Your guide hightails it out as soon as you’re through the doorway.

And then Ghost closes the door behind him.

You and him. Alone. There’s no one in the other room or close enough to hear if something goes wrong.

You watch him keep himself busy, circling perimeters and learning exits and entrances, and you think… you wouldn’t mind it if something went wrong.

Reading people is something that can’t be taught, not really. You’re lucky to have come out of the womb with that ephemeral quality clutched tightly in one hand. While the mask makes it difficult, you are… learning. You are noting shifts in posture, inflections of voice, where those dark eyes linger.

You need to collect more data.

“Do I have to call you Ghost? I can’t just call you Simon?” Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and the tension in the air tastes electric on your teeth. It will be a coin toss to see which way that tension goes, you think.

“Don’t say that name. ‘M not gonna repeat myself.”

You’ll do as he says because now he’s staring into your eyes without flinching. “Hm. Fine.” Which is what you wanted.

Ghost removes his gloves for a moment to fiddle with his phone, and you can’t help but stare.

He has beautiful hands. Long, thick fingers, knuckles marked with a lifetime’s worth of scar tissue, more scars wrapping themselves like cords across the backs of his hands. Beautiful.

There are tattoos blanketing his left forearm. You can’t see them from here, and you doubt you’ll get to examine them in detail sometime this century. Tattoos are so personal, and it would take words a lot tougher than a question to get through his shark skin persona.

Gloves go back on. And he’s caught you staring. You don’t give a fuck.

You relish the challenge.

Like a feral raccoon or a bored weasel, you’ll push and push and push until you’ve found something entertaining.

Does Ghost think that if he menaces you in silence long enough, you’ll scream when he says ‘boo’? How cute.

Out of nowhere, he slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You’re lookin’ at me.” You could make a snide comment about noticing the obvious, but that’s not the fight you want to pick. Yet.

You’re far more intrigued by the issue of his ghastly, ghoulish, fearsome camouflage. “Do you really, like, wear the mask all the time? Even to sleep? What about eating? You don’t care about getting crumbs all over it?” Your voice would sound genuine if you put a little more effort into it.

Silence. He knows you’re trying to pry him out into the open, and he thinks he can ignore you until you give up.

Your eyes narrow. “Oh, come on. I’m your wife now. I’m allowed to ask questions.” Those fucking icy eyelashes. Your feet move before you realize it, bringing you closer to him so you can repeatedly run the contrast in your mind.

Ghost crosses his burly arms over his chest. “Not if they’re fuckin’ annoying ones,” He snaps back.

That’s one hell of a British accent. Not a posh one; working class, probably not from London.

Like his eyes, hands, and stature, his low, raspy voice is beautiful, too. “Isn’t that what wives are for?” You bait.

You catch his eye roll and match it with a dirty glare. “Do you ever shut up?” Ghost asks, advancing so quickly that you find yourself trapped against the wall, some primal flight instinct activated by his sinuous, menacing stride.

And you’ve been asked that very same question many, many times in your life. “Um… not really,” You toss out. Smugly, like you’re winning whatever fucked-up game is brewing between you. You totally are.

Like this, you must tilt your head to meet his furious eyes. “Fuck. That’s tedious.” Obviously, this is not nearly as tedious as he complains. He’s still here.

Your eyes flick between the door and Ghost’s mask, indicating he’s free to walk away. “Oh, I’m being tedious? Look at me. Look at me. Say that again.” Under your dress, your skin feels warm. As if he’s already touching you.

Ghost takes another step forward. “You… are… being… tedious.” Close enough that his combat boots touch your fancy low heels.

Kissing someone through a mask is very stupid, both in theory and practice. Just as you thought earlier.

Somehow, some way, Ghost makes it work.

Gentleness seems to be a foreign language to him; he wraps one large hand around your jaw, pushing you against the wall, so roughly that pain radiates across your scalp, and digs his index finger and thumb in until he’s holding your mouth open.

And that’s how he kisses you. Forcing you to be exactly as still as he wants and pressing his mask over your lips, and your eyes flutter shut as if this were a real kiss. If this were a real kiss, you’d have your teeth halfway through his bottom lip by now.

Great idea. Just as Ghost moves back, you nip his mask with your teeth. Nothing serious, no real damage. Enough to teach him something about you, more important than words can say.

For only a moment, it lifts from his face. Not in any type of direction where you can see more, but the fabric stretches, and it reminds him that that’s all his mask is. Fabric. Not metal or bone.

“Nah, don’t do that,” Ghost warns before leaning in again.

Fine. This time, you dig your nails into the tiniest revealed sliver of his pale neck as you kiss him until he’s forced to pin your wrist above your head with one gloved hand.

He seeks to chastise you again, but you put a stop to that by arching into his chest instead of away.

This sets the beautiful, pristine line of your neck on display as you tilt your head just the right way. You know your angles, and you bet he probably enjoys holding fragile things in his palms before crushing them the next second.

The unmarked skin above your pulsing carotid artery sure looks fragile.

And, of course, it invites Ghost to dip his burning gaze lower.

You look good. You know you do; you know that your cleavage pops in this dress, you layer perfume to be the most memorable woman in the room, and this confidence has been insulating you all day.

He’s not immune to it. His other hand runs along your exposed collarbones before dipping between your breasts. He takes the fabric of your dress between his fingers, testing the strength of the cloth and construction.

Wait, hold on, this shit was expensive. And unless he’s going to replace it-

Ghost has been too busy staring at your boobs to notice that he’s let go of your wrist, and you pounce on the opening. You’re out of his grasp immediately before peeling the dress off. Shame is for the weak.

His appreciative groan goes straight to your nerves, to your nipples hardening under your sheer bralette and your panties beginning to stick to your skin.

All that newly exposed skin and soft curves turn the desire in his dark eyes into a ruthless hunger.

You watch him walk towards you, circle you. He checks your ass out in the most blatant way possible, so you feel the compliment more than you hear it.

You turn to look at him through lashes all dolled up with mascara and make your eyes round, doe-like - as saccharine as artificially-flavored taffy.

Even through the balaclava, Ghost grins.

“Can I help you with that?” He asks, gesturing to the flimsy metal clasp in the center of your back that holds the bra in place.

His gloved fingers trail down your spine when you sweep your hair from your shoulders. “What a gentleman.” There are dozens of other more productive things he could be doing right now to get you naked.

He coaxes a slight, involuntary shiver from your spine when he digs his fingertips into the curve of your breast, and you dread what will happen when Ghost finds all the other weak spots.

Just as you’re about to end his fun and get this bra off yourself, he undoes the clasp. “Don’t want to ruin your pretty clothes.” A harsh, jagged leather glove edge clips your skin as he does so. While it won’t make you bleed, not even close, you feel he wouldn’t care if something did.

Fuck.

Instead of dropping both arms out obediently so he can slip you out of it all at once, you have the genius idea of sticking out one arm after another.

This forces Ghost to face you as you let the bralette drop.

A flush crawls up your chest, blooming pink and flustered between your breasts. “You think I look pretty?” You ask, barely suppressing the whine from your tone. It’s a real whine, one that speaks to how badly you want this to escalate.

Someone wolf-whistling at your tits usually makes you angry enough to hit them, but Ghost’s whistle makes the blush in your skin burn brighter. “Christ,” He mutters. The bone-white teeth on his mask distort, then stretch, like he’s licking his lips.

You spent a little extra time this morning hunting down a nice pair of lace-trimmed underwear, and now you’re thrilled you bothered. “Gonna make me wait forever?”

The answer is no. He’s on you in the next second, palm flat between your collarbones as he practically shoves you towards the bare regulation mattress, the kind of thing you’d see in a college dorm.

When you land, the slight impact takes your breath away.

But then he sees your thighs pressing together, your hips shifting, and your eyelids flutter. You’re fucking melting from that force alone. “You like it mean?” He wonders, half-mocking, half-genuine.

You push yourself up on your elbows, making your tits bounce more than necessary. Just to watch him lose his train of thought again.

You’re dripping through your panties, you can feel slick arousal on your skin, and he’ll know as soon as you spread your legs. “I like it mean.” Your smile is wide and beckoning. And filled with your own intentionally-grating menace.

After all, he’s asking the wrong question.

The right question is whether he can be mean enough, whether he can touch you with enough cruelty to make you come. Already, your pussy twitches at the thought.

Something glints in his sin-dark eyes. “Good. That’s a good girl.” No, he promised you something else.

“That’s not very mean.”

You get no further warning.

He braces one muscled forearm across your chest to force you down before shoving that hand under your jaw, so your face is entirely in his control. He keeps you looking at the ceiling, and you realize it’s so he can pull his mask down.

Dammit. You try to fight it, dip your jaw to see his face, but his grip is tougher than iron and so tight that it will leave bruises on your chin.

Then you feel his teeth bite into your throat, mark after mark along the length of your neck, and it hurts. It fucking hurts, and your eyes roll back into your head, skin on fucking fire. “God, real eager, ain’t you?” Ghost hisses as you cough and struggle for breath against his hand. “Haven’t known me for twenty-four hours, and you’re already spreading your legs like a whore.”

There are lingering kisses that are just shy of gentle, long lathes of his tongue along your sweaty skin, and then there are savage bites into the side of your breast, in between them, his fingers plucking at the hardened bud of your nipple.

Your mind is empty, completely empty, as your hips grind up towards his and the thick, heavy erection you can feel through his jeans. “You do that for every man who looks at you twice?” You can hardly hear him over your squeaks of pain mixing with pleasure. Now he’s slotted a knee between your thighs, giving you something to rock your covered pussy on.

“Only for the ones who deserve it,” You get out between clenched teeth, holding back your moans, so he doesn’t get that satisfaction.

He chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. “Fuckin’ hell.” When he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking, licking, sending jolts of pleasure through your nerves but hovering on the edge of real damage…

It takes an embarrassingly long time for you to put together a retort. “Jealous that you haven’t had a turn yet?”

“Naw, I ain’t jealous. Ain’t gotta be. I know you want me.” He punctuates his words by cruelly pressing his knee harder into your clit, wrenching a long, tortured sound from your throat.

If he keeps that up… already, something hot and vicious begins to simmer low in your stomach, a hollow ache.

Then he fucking lets up on covering you in marks to watch your face twist in rapture when he does it again. “Come on then, Lieutenant. Big, scary, mean Ghost,” You tell him breathlessly.

Again, his knee, your aching clit, you don’t wanna come all over his pants except you kind of do, and if he realizes that, he’ll make you.

His fingers pluck your nipple one last time. “Yeah, I’ll fuckin’ show you.” Then he shoves his mask on haphazardly, withdrawing his hands so he can pull his gloves off. “Take that shit off. Right now,” Ghost orders.

The fabric of your soaked panties rips a little in your enthusiasm to get them away from you, and you toss them in some corner without looking.

And as you hold his gaze, face flushed and dewy from his kisses, you part your legs.

Ghost is so taken by the sight of your glistening, aroused core that he has to sit back for a second and just… “Fuuuck,” He groans, eyes lidded with want.

You run a single teasing hand along the soft skin of your inner thigh. “Still pretty?” Your smile is all teeth, hunger, and a promise that you don’t need him to have a good time.

He shakes his head. “I don’t fuck self-absorbed bitches,” Ghost warns. As if he isn’t literally rolling up his sleeves as he speaks. As if you can’t see his muscles strain and flex with the effort of not touching you.

His shoulders are so huge that he casts a shadow when he looks over you. “You will.” You pause to make a show out of sliding your wicked gaze down to his jeans. “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to your…” Then Ghost grabs your hips before you can finish your sentence and drags you to the edge of the mattress.

You hear him sigh through his teeth. “Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen. Prettiest tits, prettiest ass… Where have you been hiding?” It seems that he does, in fact, like you self-absorbed. You’ll drag more compliments from his mouth before the night is over, you swear it.

When you try to slip a leg over his shoulder before he’s ready, Ghost traps your soft thighs open and in place with his hands. “The United States of America.” Fuck. Fuck.

He strokes through your folds with two fingers, not deep enough to do anything but tease. Still, you jump as soon as you feel him brush your clit with a feather-light touch.

Ghost takes those two slick fingers and lazily holds them out in front of your mouth. “Look at me, and this is over. You hear me? I don’t give a fuck how much you whine or complain.” You take them in your mouth in a show of obedience that surprises him, eagerly lapping up your musk and the salt of his skin.

But not entirely obedient - you nip his fingertips before you pull away, and a string of saliva stretches between you. “I hear you.” Whatever. Avoiding peeking at his face is, like, the easiest thing someone could do to get eaten out.

He waits until your head is properly thrown back, and you rest a hand over your eyes, so there’s no chance you will look down.

As if remembering your reaction to his earlier mercy, Ghost takes his sweet fucking time doing everything but eat your needy, dripping cunt. Your stupid, annoying, evil husband covers the soft, plush flesh of your thighs in kisses, he licks up the arousal that’s leaked onto your skin throughout this game, he leaves more love bites in the crease of your thigh.

Asshole.

And it feels good. Of course, it feels good, and you’re already a squirming, pleading mess, holding back your sighs because you’ll be damned if he thinks you’ll fold with no effort.

When he finally licks a hot stripe through your folds, carefully sucking at your clit, your resulting moan fucking bursts out of your chest, drawn out and desperate.

You can feel him laugh against your sensitive flesh before he just…

Your hips can’t get closer if you tried, you’re caught between grinding on his face and trying to flinch away as he fucks you with his mouth, Ghost’s tongue moving with unerring precision to pour pleasure like lightning through your veins.

Your cunt clenches around nothing as he goes back and forth, licking, sucking, making your thighs tremble around his face. “Shit, shit, keep doing that, fuck-“ You beg, mouth open because it feels like you can’t breathe. The air tastes hot, like sex, like smoke and bourbon.

Ghost’s groans are barely audible over the sloppy, explicit sounds of his mouth coaxing more slick out of your core, all over his face. “You taste-“ He presses two thick fingers inside. “So fucking-“ It stings, it’s a stretch, he has to lap at your swollen clit with a delicate touch to get you to loosen up. “Good-“ Your muscles twist and spasm around his fingers, fluttering in time with each thrust.

Then he picks up the pace. “Ghost, Jesus, what the fuck are you-“ You sob, gasping as you try to get control over your body. He’s got every reaction, your vocal cords, your nerves, your needy, desperate cunt, entirely in hand.

His free hand digs into your leg, nails aimed to hurt. And like the whore you absolutely are, every time he does that, your stomach tightens further. “No need to say my name twice, love,” Ghost tells you in a voice as smooth as velvet, like he’s endlessly amused at your expense.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” You bitch before getting that knee over his muscled shoulder and dragging his hot, wet mouth towards your pussy again.

Your shriek fills the air when he bites, like really bites your thigh in revenge. “‘M busy fucking you. Come on, lemme in. Lemme find it.” His fingers-

They’re thrusting into you deeper, he slides his other hand under your hips to angle your pelvis up.

And then you feel him brush something deep inside your pussy that makes you clench as tight as a vice around his hand. “Um, fuck, I-“ Your back arches off the mattress, and you’ve got your eyes screwed shut in pleasure, your free hand flailing around as you try to just- just get everything under control…

You can’t think, can’t speak, he touches that patch of sensitive flesh inside of you, and it just wipes your brain clean, replacing everything with Ghost. “There we go. That’s it,” He coos at your helplessness, smug with the knowledge that all your bravado and rationality fail when his fingers fuck you harder, rougher.

Ghost helps you chase the orgasm gathering on the horizon, so powerful that you can feel it humming like power lines in your teeth. “Hn-“ Your moans rise and echo off the bare walls, and he drags his fingers inside you at the same time he places his mouth on your aching, swollen clit.

“Got 60 seconds to come, or I’ll stop.” It’s right there, just out of reach, like your skin is on fire and your body is so, so, so desperate for everything he can give.

Tears gather in your eyes. “No, please, don’t stop,” You beg, words garbled up with whimpers and cries, tears tracking down your sweaty cheeks.

Whenever your leg tries to hold him in place to fight off the pleasure or your core clamps down so he can’t withdraw his fingers, he fucks you harder. “Pretty girl.” Holy shit. You just need to breathe, to try and focus, but you can’t. It’s so- “Good fucking girl.”

You need to come. You need to come, you’re trying, you don’t want him to leave you like this, so much arousal pours out of your flushed, oversensitive core that it covers his wrist, and your hips begin to buck and shake. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1-“

“I- I’m coming, oh my fucking God-“ Your orgasm drags you down in a fury, pulsing hot and violent. Every muscle trembles and your whimpers reach a fever pitch. And Ghost pries at each scrap of your pleasure he can get, sucking and sucking at your flesh, and you can’t do anything. You have to let him swallow you whole.

You forget how to fucking breathe, and you’re sobbing under the hand over your face, trying to escape the sensation, but you can’t stop coming, clenching, chasing the high.

He lets you ride out the last of it on his hand, helping you through the aftershocks and gentling the pace of his tongue until you’re spent.

When that ringing sound clears from your ears, you sit up with sore stomach muscles and reach for him; mask be damned. Ghost gets the balaclava down over his nose, exposing his mouth shiny with your cum.

Your first real kiss is messy and slick, lips slipping against his and saliva going everywhere. His sticky hands tangle in your hair, and you gasp into his mouth from the sudden, sharp pain. It’s his turn to sigh when you nip at his full bottom lip, a deep, raspy sound that you could become addicted to very easily.

Your fingers slip under the edge of the mask - just where it covers his neck, and Ghost pauses for a moment, lips suspended over yours.

It takes three thundering heartbeats for him to return to kissing the air out of your lungs.

His hair feels short under your fingertips, bluntly cut to a regulation length. You’ve done it before for Soap when he first enlisted. You take your nails over the back of his neck once, then again, hard enough to make it sting.

“Bitch,” Ghost hums, and it’s the softest thing he’s said all evening. Like your teeth and claws are more impressive, more beautiful than your obedience.

Clearly, no one taught him how to behave toward a wife. “Manners.” This time, you draw a little blood from his mouth, and Ghost almost melts into a puddle in your hands.

“Let me fuck you.” He has one hand on your throat, not a chokehold so much as a loose necklace. A wedding ring on your finger couldn’t be more possessive than Ghost’s lingering, eager touch.

And when you press your forehead to his through the mask, he permits it. “I thought you just did.”

Something about his eye roll makes him seem younger. Lighter, more playful. “Let me fuck you again,” He tries. Yeah, no. You’re not a cheap date. “Turn around. Come on.” He has to do better than that.

The look on your face makes him sigh. “Don’t make me beg.”

Next time, he shouldn’t try and give you ideas. Definitely not for free. “What happened to ‘I don’t fuck self-absorbed bitches’?” You ask coyly. You could ask him for anything right now, you think, and Ghost would give it to you.

Pained, aching frustration blooms in his dark brown eyes.

“Jesus, you’re never going to drop that, are you?” Ghost is so cute like this, squirming in his own vaguely-repressed way. He answers you quickly, far more quickly than someone who’s only tolerating this would. “You were right.” The hand on your throat moves delicately across your shoulders, massaging your neck, all luxury and indulgence, a slow seduction.

His words are like music to your ears. “I usually am.” You’re a sucker for that specific compliment. And with Ghost determined to caress every inch of your skin, your arms, the dip of your waist, well…

You bat his wanting hands away and flip yourself over. It takes a little care not to tweak anything, but being on your hands and knees is better for your spine in the long run, anyway.

His large palm runs up and down the length of your back, leaving warmth wherever he goes—softening your muscles, getting you used to his presence when you can’t see him, until you’re relaxed and pliant on the bed.

Fabric rustles behind you. It’s the balaclava; he’s pulled it off and tossed it to the side. You can just see it out of the corner of your eye. “Spoilin’ me with this view, love.” Then Ghost kisses the small of your back as he kneels on the bed, covering your skin with appreciation as he makes his way up.

You can’t help your small, genuinely breathless laugh when he kisses the side of your neck. “Make this good, and you’ll see it a second time,” You promise. Then he palms one of your tits, and you grind your ass against his hard-on, so he doesn’t get too lost in the sauce.

He nips your earlobe. “I’m the best you’re gonna have.” When he withdraws, he takes all his warmth with him, leaving you cold and bereft. “Might be a tight fit, doll,” Ghost tells you as he unbuckles his jeans.

Ooh, doll. That’s a new one. You haven’t been called that before. You like it.

His fingers dip between your thighs, nudging at your clit until you’re gasping and writhing. When he works two, then three digits into your cunt, he stretches you out with brisk efficiency.

The slick sound of skin on skin - Ghost pulls his fingers from you to spread your arousal over his dick, pumping himself a few times.

“I can take you.”

One of his palms rests on your back as he carefully, so so, so carefully slips the blunt head of his cock inside. “Ohhhhh, oh fuck.” You go completely slack, cheek dropping to the mattress. He’s big. He’s fucking massive.

Ghost is hardly moving at all, and still, your pussy is trembling, desperately trying to clamp down on him, but you’re too stretched out-

He’s gasping, exhaling hard through his nose while he tries to re-adjust. The feeling of you squeezing him is unbearable.“God. My fuckin’ God. You’re-“ Ghost cuts himself off, and you hear him curse. He pulls himself out slightly, then pushes back in. “Loosen- loosen up a little. Please.” You can’t even make sense of his pleading, not when his dick is so big inside your belly that you don’t have room for thoughts.

When he plays with your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb, you feel the pleasure grow and churn and make you shake. “I- you’re so big, I can’t,” You barely succeed at getting out.

But- he rolls his hips again, and your body opens for him bit by bit. “Please. That’s it, that’s it, pretty girl. Doll. Good girl,” He chants.

And what can you do but let out an answering moan, a strung-out, needy, desperate sound for words your brain doesn’t know?

Your nails are seconds away from tearing the plastic mattress cover. God, if only- if only your cunt wasn’t stuffed so full. “Ghost… fuck, you’re splitting me in two.” He bottoms out, and he’s so deep, like he’s molding you around him. After a moment, Ghost starts fucking you in earnest.

“Holy shit, yes, right there-“ You gasp when his hard cock presses against your g-spot, your core shivering around him.

Ghost keeps at it with both hands on your hips to hold you steady. “I know. I know. I have you. I have you, love.” Your body trusts him to guide you through this - he’s sturdy and strong, and you feel every inch moving inside of you with his thrusts. “You’re so fuckin’ tight, Christ.” Sweat gathers at your hairline before tracking down your face to join the little pool of saliva below your slack, open mouth.

When he grinds into your hypersensitive, tender pussy, you shriek, his cock fucking the sounds out of your strained vocal cords. “Feels so good,” He groans in a shaken, undone voice.

Despite your fucked-out head, despite getting the best dick of your life, you find another ounce of spite you haven’t tapped into yet. “B-best you’ve ever, hngh, had?” You’re dripping around him, so soaked that the wet sounds of your cunt echo almost drown out your nonsensical, cock-drunk noises.

Ghost laughs before fucking you harder, determined to make you scream. “Yeah, best fuckin’ pussy. Best girl. Fuck. Fuck.” And just as he does that, you hear him lick his fingers before pressing them to your swollen clit.

Oh no. Oh no. Your pussy begins to tighten and twitch, and you didn’t plan for this, the pleasure sneaks up on you as you fight it, trying to keep your head above water and your body from… “I’m not gonna last, shit, you’re too good to me,” Ghost growls, relentlessly pounding into you.

Your stomach aches and screams with your orgasm, but you’re not ready yet, you need a second. You- he’s manipulating your body so keenly, you’ve never felt anything like it.

His hips snap into your ass, aiming viciously for your g-spot. “You’ll come again. Like this,” Ghost orders, then presses down on your back, so you drop your chest and cant your hips up.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can,” You confess, each sound chopped up and breathless as he fucks you harder and harder.

He keeps his fingers on your clit at the same pressure, same speed, and it feels so good that you’re going to start sobbing at any second. Your knees are about to give out, and Ghost’s thrusts get wilder, messier.

“Come. Come for me.”

You’re screeching, crying, wailing as you come. Cunt spasming on his dick, your lungs empty and howling for relief. Your hips keep pushing back towards him to chase the high. Each wave is more painful, more powerful than the next, leaving you a twitching, helpless mess.

You come so fucking hard around him that you think you were meant for this. It’s the sweetest relief, like hot fire licking through your veins. It’s all Ghost and the cock he’s breaking you open on. Your pleasure slices into your gut like a sharpened knife, and your slick covers his pants, your thighs, the bed below you.

He shoves himself into you one last, impossibly deep, painfully good time, and Ghost comes with a long, drawn-out moan as your muscles milk him. There’s a burst of warmth - except your spasming, still-orgasming pussy is packed to the brim with his cock, so you feel his come drip all over your trembling, weak legs.

When he pulls out, he slides an arm around your waist before gently lowering you to the bed. Then Ghost lays on his side so he can draw your bare, sweat-soaked back to his chest, tucking you into him. And while you’re insensible, he grabs the balaclava and shoves it over his face.

You come back to yourself in increments, your head hazy and filled with small snapshots of tenderness.

Ghost adjusts the open buckle of his belt, so it doesn’t hurt you or irritate your sensitive skin. Your hand seeks one of his blindly until he wraps his fingers around yours. He stops your shivering by unzipping his hoodie and draping it over your naked body.

Your heart rate slows to something more reasonable, and as your eyes open, you see his tattoos. He’s got your head cushioned on his shoulder, so your hair has draped itself all over his arm.

You can see monochrome shadows dancing on his muscled, scarred skin, skulls, bombs, and dog tags, all of it peeking out.

Beautiful. Edgy, scary, beautiful. “I like them,” You say as you outline a lovingly-detailed sniper’s scope with the tip of your finger.

He doesn’t laugh, he’s recovering too, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “Not too shabby, eh?”

Barbed wire in that faded, blue-black color that tattoos turn with age, greyscale fire, and brimstone… “They suit you. And so does the mask.” Ghost exhales softly, air fanning out across your skin.

Then he shifts, tightens his arm around you, and brings you closer. “Thanks,” He murmurs after a long, substantial moment.

You try to banish the exhaustion creeping on you to the recesses of your mind. It makes your tongue slippery, makes the thoughts fall straight out of your head and into the world. “Yeah, no problem. Did you know that your eyelashes are blonde? I’ve been thinking about it since I first saw you.”

There are many other things you want to say, but you chew on the inside of your cheek and manage to stop them.

“Have you now?”

Aw, damn. So you did say that out loud, and he heard you. “Yeah. Yeah.” Each time you blink, you do it slower, like gravity is somehow increasing as time goes on, and you’re losing the power to resist it.

Where’d he go? “Gotta fuckin’… put some sheets on this bed. Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, love.” You poke your head up for a second and look around. No Ghost behind you, no arms cradling you.

Then you spot him by the door, shoving his keycard in his pocket. “Mmph.” You don’t lie down until he circles around and curls his palm around your cheek.

“I’ll be right back,” Ghost promises, and with his blessing, you roll over and close your eyes.

Tagging @abbiesxox @thedevillovesflowers @poohkie90 @averyyreads @lialacleaf @backupgal @kitty-satan1 @androgynoushellscape @555ilovecats @pinkwigonmytv @almightywdm @discowizard88 @castielsangelsx @jaymicrosoft @rengokulover96 @copiasratscheese @fluffysmiko @d3athtr4psworld @drugsaftersex @teenagegever2k22 @badame0224 @toilet-paper-headbands @itsrosebabe @bangirl134 @silverianni @nezukos-number1fan @deadpoetsandhoney

Idk how tag lists work so i guess just reply if u want to be added? and reply/shoot me a message if you want off!

Thank y'all so much for the support and love <3 <3 <3, the next chapter will be more smut, as well as the 141's reaction to your wedding!

One last thing - please do not ask a disabled author/person in general to disclose intimate details of their disability because you think their disability should limit them from doing something. that is very rude, and also very ableist. the only person entitled to my medical history is my doctor, and I've already had someone act entitled toward my medical history over this fic. i am super uncomfortable that i had to disclose anything at all, but i felt that if i didn't, they would pick a fight. my pinned post contains the comment i made on AO3 about this, including said details that I wish I didn't feel forced to tell people. I am not going to be responding to questions of that kind going forward. thank you.

(as always, dedicated to cuckoo <3)

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u3pxx · 3 months

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disco meshi au rambling below major spoilers for both disco elysium and dungeon meshi (only up until chapter 62)

BARKS anyways i was suddenly hit with a pang of "extremely normal about harry du bois" and thinking about the idea of harry being a former dungeon lord in this au

i'll copy-paste a bit of the rambling i did in tags (and clean them up) to catch you all up to speed

- ok so maybe harry + kim won't go dungeoneering on their own but maybe they were sent to investigate dangerous dungeons and sent to make sure those aren't threats anymore (kind of like the canaries) - maybe harry had become a dungeon master at some point and the part of him that was eaten was his memories. - GODD dungeon master harry is kind of giving me grief though. can you imagine what he would count as his perfect life. can you imagine when the illusion starts to fall apart and he's accepted that he will be consumed? but he doesn't get to die. that's his curse.

i have like several ideas on what things would be fun to explore in the au and one of those ideas is harry and kim being assigned to maintain the safety of a dungeon which just so happens to be: the dungeon that harry used to control.

(note: i do not remember that well what happens to a dungeon after the dungeon lord has been dethroned. iirc it does still stay there so OOF. imagine traversing to a dungeon and seeing things that should be familiar to you but you just cannot remember anything. it hurts when you look at it, but what did it mean to you?)

i just think that harry after being left, now an even more broken man than he ever was, being granted this false escape from his situation in the form of his deal with this demon. the kingdom he's built inside the dungeon, what if it was just a home. what if it was just a home, like any other home on the surface. surrounded by trees bearing apricots. what if it was a humble home for him, his wife, and their unborn children. what then huh orz

and then i thought: "hey now, didn't dolores have a line that LITERALLY had the words, "i will eat your mind"?" and then --

Dolores Dei: "... it was *a hundred million years ago*. I was someone else then -- filled to the brim with love for you. Hanging on your every word. Oh Harry, you were the *coolest*... But I am no longer that person. This..." She points to herself. "... has taken her place. It will devour you. Harry -- I will eat your mind."

COME ON. MAN. DO I EVEN HAVE TO DO ANYTHING HERE ORZ

thinking about. the demon manifesting as this monstrous amalgamation. if i think of a better animal than lamb that symbolizes what dolores dei represents then i'll change it but MAN.

anyways. thinking about this comic ryoko kui wrote and thinking about the dungeon as a metaphor for addiction. thinking about a demon that devours and feasts on a person's desires until there is nothing left of that person and thinking about the pale that slowly grows and expands and turns everything into nothing at all. MY BRAIN ISN'T WORKING ANYMORE SO I'M SORRY IF I CAN'T EXPRESS MY THOUGHTS MORE COHERENTLY. HELLO CAN ANYONE HEAR ME DFGDHJK

also, i think dora is an elf from a wealthy family in the au. just another layer of arghhhhgghgh to add above everything else. another reason why her family doesn't like harry is because he's from a short-lived race.

#den off the shits DFGHDJ #if u dont care abt spoilers or have no interest at all in this. i also drew a very neat drawing of a demon if u want under read more pfttt #disco meshi au #sunnysidedisco #sunnysiderambles #cw gore #tw gore #starry don't look

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nevesmose · 1 month

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I think the Replikas are in control of the gestalts in Signalis. Hear me out.

Sierpinski is a space gulag with replika guards. Fair enough. But then we get to the apartment building on Rotfront where, first of all, the blockwart is a Kolibri. A heavily armed Kolibri on the lookout for spies, who we can see from her computer has access to everyone's medical records and the right to enter someone's property whenever she feels like it:

So in that block at least, everyone lives under constant physical and bioresonant surveillance from the gremlin downstairs. Let's look at the report Ariane's teacher wrote about her:

So communal living with a Kolibri warden is the expected norm for everyone since the Revolution, and Ariane is considered suspect for not growing up this way.

Speaking of Ariane's teacher, there's a comment in the school memory about her:

Eule wipes it clean before she can note it down so I have to copy from Erika

Further supporting this is one of Ariane's notes:

So we can see that Eules are the ones who educate gestalts. Let's imagine that you, a gestalt kid, wake up in your apartment block and head out past the psychic replika who has awareness of everyone and everything in the building. Currently she's slowly pushing her steppy over to reach up to a bookshelf, but still.

Out the door with your gas mask on, remember not to look too hard at the great red eye and off via the metro to school where you can do a little light bullying of the kid with weird hair and then sit down to lessons from a pleasant, friendly Eule who regularly reports to her superiors about your political reliability.

That's not even taking into account the constant possibility of an Ara being inside your walls at any given moment, or the Storch/Star police brutality tag teams roaming around.

So on Rotfront at least, gestalts seem to live in a crushingly regimented culture of constant replika surveillance every bit as sterile and suffocating as the DDR the game draws inspiration from.

No wonder Ariane wanted to escape it any way she could.

By the way, I know Ariane is called the "gestalt officer" on the Penrose but she doesn't seem to have much actual seniority or control of anything beyond her radio communications work. Elster is the one who maintains the ship, and we know that she's dedicated enough to do that to the absolute limits of her endurance anyway no matter what state Ariane is in (😢) so it'd just be a case of ordering someone to fulfil the task they were literally created to do. Almost as if the officer title is a meaningless bauble designed to make the Penrose Progamme more appealing to gestalts.

#signalis #words words words #assuming that the locations and texts shown in Ariane's Wild Ride are accurate representations of things that really existed #ariane yeong #elster #lstr 512 #rotfront #kolibri #eule #kolibri steppy #“Police Brutality” would be a great name for a storch & star pro wrestling team to be fair #feels like that's already how they view the world anyway tbh #bah gawd it's Storch breaking into the Eule dorm with a steel chair #The Time Is Now (1000 Eyes and Cicada Sirens Remix)#ongoing feud with Steppy Up who are just 5 identical kolibris

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traumxrei-archive · 10 months

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【 chapter 7 - first meetings, proposals, and the end of winter 】

summary tags: the last chapter T^T, a family reunion, cheka forcing leona's hand (real), goodbye cheka, and then the angst, me when i finally explain why yuu has the doubts they have :'))), i promise there is comfort at the end of the rainbow

word count: 4.6k (considering there's no omake, this is hefty)

author's note: the long awaited ending to this series is finally here ^^ it's a little surreal how long it has been since i last updated, but without further ado, enjoy the chapter <33

[ baby it's cold outside series | read it on ao3 ]

There were many problems that you could avoid by ignoring them. And there were many that wouldn’t go away, and instead, incessantly keep staring right at you from across the room.

Yuu’s current problem was Leona.

They were attempting to very subtly avoid him, but it was hard when he was one of the only three people in the room. And after the events of yesterday… Yuu would say in very generous language that conversing with him had become just a bit difficult. Leona had, in a roundabout way, asked them if they liked him. They couldn’t quite wrap their head around what he would gain from knowing anyway. The satisfaction, maybe?

Yuu blinked. Focus. They zeroed in on the half-packed suitcase, and then at Cheka, who seemed intent on lying down on the pile of clothes that had yet to be packed.

"Yuu-tan," The little lion was crawling into their lap now, messing up the clothes they were folding. "Can I not go?"

"It's okay," They consoled, hand drifting to the cub's hair. "It’s not a bad thing, I thought you missed your family."

"I do, but–!" Cheka grabbed at the shirt in their hands. "Yuu-tan and Ojitan are family too! Can't you come with me?"

Cheka's eagerness might have rubbed off on them just a little. They were sure they would miss him and his infectious laughter. It was easier than going through the exhausting drag of school. But Cheka needed to go back, and they didn't know what to say except, "I..."

"We have school, you little brat," Leona plucked him up by the scruff. "You could just video call if you miss me."

"You say that like you'll actually be going to class," Yuu couldn't help the teasing words that slipped out of their mouth, all too used to the banter. They froze for a moment, waiting for Leona to ignore them.

Instead, Leona paused, placing Cheka a good distance away from the suitcase, "What classes do you take?"

"Why do you ask?” They folded another shirt. “You aren’t planning on copying from me are you?”

"Hmm," A faint smirk grew on his face. "Now that you mention it, that would be a good idea. Though I’m sure it’ll end up being the other way around." And Yuu resisted the urge to roll their eyes.

Whatever classes that they took, Leona must’ve already taken in his first year. And with Leona’s freakishly excellent memory, they were sure he would have more than a field day lecturing them through their mistakes.

"Yuu-tan, Yuu-tan," Cheka whispered. They leaned closer to listen as he continued, "Are Yuu-tan and Ojitan done fighting?"

Well, shit.

"What makes you say that?" Yuu said quietly. They wondered which part made it obvious to even a 5 year-old that they had a disagreement.

"It's just..." He hesitated before cupping a hand over his mouth. "Ojitan was staring at you and not talking this whole time."

They blinked, "He was?"

Yuu knew that he was staring. It was all but obvious that Leona wanted them to know that he was, for whatever reason. But for Cheka to notice, was—

"Was not," Leona said. Very loudly, Yuu might add, clearly announcing he heard everything. "And some people should understand that eavesdropping is not a flattering hobby, especially for an adult."

"Eavesdropping...?" Cheka asked. Leona said nothing more, his ears flicking as he stared at the door.

The question of who was eavesdropping was answered as the door swung open, revealing a guilty-looking beastperson hunched next to the door. And right behind him were what looked like two guards.

As the beastperson stood, they came to a startling realization. So this was Falena, King of Afterglow Savanna and brother to Leona. And Cheka's beloved father. It had to be, with hair a darker shade of sunrise that mirrored Cheka's own.

He scratched at his hair in a sheepish manner, "It seems your hearing is as sharp as it was when you were a cu— oof—!"

His words were interrupted by Cheka all but barreling right into his midsection. Ouch. That must’ve hurt. They watched with slight horror as the King doubled over, before crouching down to hug his child.

Cheka seemed oblivious to his father’s pain as he squealed, "Papa! You came to get me?"

"How could I turn down the opportunity to see my precious m'toto sooner?" He asked, kissing the little cub all over his face. And their heart ached as they watched Falena dote on his child. He turned belatedly, with another greeting, "It is nice to see you, brother."

Leona seemed to regard the display of affection with contempt, a frown marring his face, "It's nice to see that you came even after I told you not to."

"Ahem!" Falena straightened his posture. "I came because I wanted to see you." Leona didn’t answer him, turning his attention toward the window. They briefly wondered what Leona felt whenever he saw Falena and Cheka together.

"Aww, I wish that Mama came too," Cheka said, cheeks puffed out.

Yuu was glad that the Queen wasn't there. One Savanna royal was enough on most days, but being in a room with four of them at the same time? They were already struggling not to react to the wary gazes of the guards standing behind the King. It was their job to be vigilant against strangers, and they were quite the definition of a stranger; standing awkwardly in the middle of the room without any purpose. Leona moved closer, almost shielding them.

It wasn't long until Falena's gaze fell on them, a surprised look washing over his face, "My apologies for being so rude. Won't you introduce me to your friend, brother?" There was a pause, where Falena was looking at Leona with a hopeful glimmer while Leona looked like he would rather be elsewhere.

The silence was broken as Leona released a drawn-out sigh, "That's—"

"—Yuu-tan!" Cheka cheered, jumping from Falena's arms in favor of clinging onto their legs. "Yuu-tan's been taking care of us both. And they live in this cool haunted house! And they have a talking cat!"

Great. How positively lovely. It was the first impression of them the King of Afterglow Savanna had and it was the fact that they lived in a haunted house with a talking cat.

"They go to NRC as well," Leona said, folding his arms. "And they can't use magic. They're not a threat." The last part felt particularly targeted toward the guards, who finally loosened their grip on their weapons.

"And, and!" Cheka added taking their hand and Leona's. "Yuu-tan and Ojitan are best friends! Isn't that so cool?" Oh Great Seven. Yuu could do nothing but offer a smile toward the monarch, trying very hard not to catch Leona's prickling gaze.

Cheka then turned to Leona, "I did a good job keeping Yuu-tan a secret, right?"

Yuu couldn't focus enough to listen to Leona's answer, especially not when Falena was regarding them with sparkling eyes.

"Ah, so you must be the mystery person from yesterday!" Falena immediately took their hand in his— though they couldn't follow what he meant. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Falena, I'm Leona's older brother."

Yuu shook his hand, "It's nice to meet you, your Majesty." Their tone felt awkward, jilted even, because well, they were talking to a King. With the way the guards were still looking at them, they couldn't be too careful.

"Ah, you can speak with me comfortably, if you'd like," Falena tilted his head slightly. "It really is peculiar! I've met magicless people before but they usually still carry traces of magic. Instead, you smell exactly like Cheka and Leona."

"Oh," They glanced down at Cheka, who was looking at them so innocently. "I've been with them for the past week, so I guess I do."

"And plus," Cheka added. "Yuu-tan is like family!"

"Family, huh?" Falena hummed before ruffling Cheka's hair. "Do you really like them that much?" Cheka nodded a couple of times and Falena let out a laugh.

"Alright, I like you more already," Falena grinned. And like this, they could see why they were brothers. It was that same glimmer in the Falena's eyes that they would see whenever Leona was playing Spelldrive.

"Oi," Their head whipped around, finding that Leona was back on the couch. "Isn't it about time for you to leave?" The irritation in his voice was blindingly obvious, but Falena seemed to take no heed.

"We'll leave in a second— Guards, please take Cheka's belongings for now— You know it's not every day I get to meet your friends, Leona," Falena turned back toward them. "I wanted to say thank you for taking care of my Cheka and for being here with Leona. And I would like to offer you something in return."

Falena's last sentence seemed to echo in their ears.

I would like to offer you something in return.

Yuu's smile stiffened, "I'm sorry?"

A reward. They weren’t even sure if they should accept a reward for what they did, not when they already had a prior arrangement with Leona. And even if they did, what would they ask from a king?

"A present!" Cheka giggled. "Yuu-tan, why don't you come with us to the Savanna?"

Yuu crouched down, "But I've got school to attend, remember?"

"Noooo," Cheka whined, glancing between them to Leona. "Then can I come to NRC too, Papa? I wanna go to school with Yuu-tan and Ojitan."

"By that time we would've graduated," Leona very helpfully pointed out and Yuu almost wanted to smack him. "Aren't the video calls enough?"

"Then..." Cheka looked frustrated, and Yuu wasn't sure if they should be cheering him up or being relieved that the cub had run out of ideas. "Then!"

"Then?" Falena asked encouragingly.

Cheka’s eyes finally lit up, a big grin spreading on his face, "Then when I grow up, I'll marry Yuu-tan!"

There was a gasp and Yuu turned to see one of the guards with their mouth wide open. The guard immediately turned their expression stoic when they realized they were caught. But they shared the guard's sentiment. How else would someone react to being proposed to by the Crown Prince of Afterglow Savanna?

"Er, Cheka...?" Falena looked just as shocked. "You're already... Marriage?" It seemed that Falena's brain was still trying to process that Cheka was talking about marriage. He had to be, considering that Cheka was his one and only son and the fact that he probably knew little to nothing about what marriages meant.

"Why not? Marriage is when people love each other right?" Cheka looked at them so hopefully, as if they would say ‘yes’ to marrying him. "And then we can all live together at the palace.”

Yuu plucked up courage to speak, "I can’t marry you. I'm too old for you, little lion." That and plenty of other things that Yuu wanted to say but couldn’t, because how was Cheka supposed to understand the different types of love? Cheka frowned a little at the rejection before he turned to his father.

"Then Papa!" Falena snapped to attention. "Can't you find someone else to marry Yuu-tan?"

Aaand now Cheka was asking Falena to set up an arranged marriage for them. What the fuck were they supposed to do now?

"Wait, Cheka—”

But Cheka was on a mission, grabbing at Yuu's arm with enthusiasm, "We have lotsa nice and pretty beastpeople relatives at the Savanna, so Yuu-tan can choose who to marry! That way you can live with us at the pala— Woah!"

"Not a chance, brat," Leona's scowl was on full display as he plucked Cheka into the air. "Why would they marry any other beastperson?"

There was a short pause as if everyone was trying to process what exactly Leona meant. Then it collectively dawned on the room. And Yuu couldn't breathe.

"So Ojitan will marry Yuu-tan?" Cheka asked, his eyes sparkling and a mega-watt smile practically beaming from his face.

Leona didn't say anything. Instead he stared over at them as he shoved the cub into Falena's arms. Yuu's head was still spinning. If they were nervous at the prospect of offending Falena before, the feeling had only gotten worse now.

"N-Now, now Cheka," Falena tried as he finally gathered his bearings. "It's up to Yuu-san who they want to marry. And a reward is supposed to be something they want."

"But Ojitan's right!" Cheka argued, staring at them over Falena's shoulder. "Ojitan is the prettiest and the nicest beastman for Yuu-tan to marry!"

"Be a good boy and hush now, Cheka," Falena said before turning toward them. "Don't mind what Cheka was saying. It was very nice to meet you, but malkia wangu expects me back before lunch, so I have to bid you goodbye. It was very nice meeting you," There was something in Falena's eyes— something that said they would definitely meet again. "Oh, and Leona, don't forget to call me next week."

"Yeah, yeah," Leona ran a hand through his hair, sparing them another obvious glance.

"Bye bye Ojitan! Yuu-tan!" Cheka yelled over Falena's shoulder as they left. "Make sure to get married in the Savanna, okay? Imma get you the bestest gift!"

They slumped on the floor as the door clicked shut. Yuu...didn't quite know what to do now. Their weeklong mission of taking care of Cheka was over. And winter break was going to be over soon enough as well. That meant returning to their normal routine of dragging Grim to class and praying that he doesn't fail. That also meant that their arrangement with Leona would come to an end.

But instead of future plans, Yuu was still stuck on that instead. 'That' being the fact that Leona chose not to step in until Cheka suggested an arranged marriage for them. That being the fact that Leona didn’t refute it when Cheka asked if he was offering himself to them.

"What are you doing on the floor?" They looked up to see Leona watching them. Again. He did that far too often nowadays, staring and getting caught and raising an eyebrow in challenge as if they had been the one staring. They really couldn’t understand his behavior.

"Listen, you..." They very carefully placed themself at the edge of the bed; far away from Leona. "You know I didn't get close to Cheka for some reward, right?"

"Guess you owe that reward to me, huh," He snorted as if it amused him to think of them in that light. "Use your favor well, herbivore. There’s a lot you can ask for."

"I'm trying to be serious," Yuu frowned, and they couldn't believe that they were avoiding him just hours ago. They paused before adding, "And I plan on refusing anything that has to do with me marrying anyone."

Leona's expression shifted into contemplation, "You wouldn't want to marry royalty?"

They entertained his question, chuckling, "I thought we established that I'm too old for Cheka. Your brother looked like he was about to keel over at the thought. And I wouldn't want to marry some stranger. Besides—"

"I meant me, stupid herbivore."

Yuu's first reaction was to hurl an insult back. It was automatic. Natural, even. They had been insulted, after all. That was the game that they had always played, trading verbal blow after blow with a fervor that lit their blood on fire.

It was the very song and dance that had curried Leona's favor toward them, enough so that he didn't completely despise them for being one of the reasons he overblotted, and enough that he would begrudgingly allow them to share a room with him, even if it was only a short three days.

And yet all those biting words fell short of being said, wedged in their throat like a bad case of hiccups because—

No, Yuu couldn't quite believe it. Their mind turned Leona's sentence around in their brain, trying in vain to find some other meaning. Some other meaning that wasn't Leona asking them to marry him, and the multitude of other questions that cropped up if they accepted that meaning.

"You're..." Their brow furrowed, grasping at the only possible logical explanation they had. "You're saying that in a hypothetical way, right?" The answer they wanted was his smirk, the teasing tone of his voice as he asked if they 'really wanted to marry him that bad'. That way they could’ve scowled, or even just laughed it off like it was a bad joke.

What they got instead was his unflinching green eyes taking in their every reaction, "What if I was serious?"

"I'm not a mage," Yuu's heart seemed to crow against their ribs as they struggled for any another excuse. "I don't have any magic or extraordinary talent. Nor do I have strong family backing. I– I can't offer you any power in return. I'm as commoner as a commoner could get, your royal highness."

Cynicism tangled with their tone as they spoke the title. It was easy to say, especially with a week of practice under their belt. They almost laughed at the irony of their master-servant act; at how closely it mirrored their status in the real world. The tension that loomed between them slowly turned sharp, waiting to cut.

"So you've decided that the only possible reason I would marry you is...for monetary gain," Leona's anger didn’t explode. It simmered, the careful deliberation of his words like a twist of a knife. "And in the same breath, you denounce your own abilities."

"Why else would you suggest such a thing?" Yuu asked. No, they accused. It was an accusation, they had to admit. The words sounded so cold, and so...so far away from them as soon as it left their lips.

Leona was on his feet in seconds. It took only two steps for him to be in front of them, and barely another second for him to kneel at the ground in front of them.

Their eyes widened, their instinct to grab at him, "Leona, what—"

"What did I do?" He demanded, his voice strained with anger, confusion, and what they thought was sadness. "What did I do that made you believe that I was incapable of liking you?"

What did Leona do? What did Leona ever say, other than those offhanded comments he made to everyone? Their heartbeat seemed to roar in their ears with every second that ticked by that they didn't have an answer.

"And what did you do?" They didn't realize they had been looking at the ground until Leona's head bowed to catch their gaze. "Why can't you accept it if I did like you? Why can't you just reject me?"

And it felt like the tension had finally shattered. The shrapnel of it cut at the softest parts of their heart. What would it matter if Leona did like them? He would surely leave them alone if they said no. Their nails bit into their palms, the pain a small sting compared to the way their heart ached. It was exactly because they couldn't say no. But what was so wrong with them saying yes?

Leona heaved out another sigh, "At least answer me this time."

This time. Yesterday, they had promised to answer him the next time he asked. And he was asking. Now. The proud Leona Kingscholar, on his knees for them. Waiting on their answer. And Yuu couldn’t help but feel their shoulders shake as they found their answer.

"Do I...deserve you?" Yuu could only afford a whisper as they put a voice to their most pathetic thoughts. "Someone like you shouldn't...you shouldn't settle for less." The worry, the self-doubt, and what they knew was self-sabotage. Everything that tangled into such a big mess that they would rather take scissors to it rather than try to untangle it.

"All my life I spent letting people's expectations ruin my own ambitions," Leona's eyes burned into theirs, a tender understanding in his words. "Deserving something doesn't matter. Take what you want, and fight for it. Fight until you win and if you don't, keep trying. That's the life I want to lead.

"And the person I want is you."

This was Leona trying. There he was, his hands carefully working at his own mess. Yuu understood it now. The Leona they knew who always wielded his sharp words and unshakable scowl was now trying to take a step closer to them. And what kind of person would they be if they didn't try to struggle on their own?

Yuu found the end of their string. And they tugged.

"If..." They watched as Leona's ear twitched at the tremble of their voice. "If we end up dating, you can't always pick fights with Grim. And you can’t get in trouble with Crowley anymore."

Leona's head bumped against their knee, "C’mon, give me a real answer." He stared up at them, brown locks tickling their leg. His face didn't betray his emotions, though they could see hope flickering in his eyes.

"I like you, Leona," Yuu's breath hitched as they spoke the words they had only ever thought of. "I like you so much it hurts to think about rejecting you." Their words seemed to reverbrate in their own chest, sounding too loud for the quiet of the room.

Then Leona was right there, hands gentle as he guided them backward; the softness of his bed engulfing them in seconds. It was like he was waiting for it. The possibility that they would’ve said yes. His eyes peered down at theirs, a hand at their cheek.

"Good," The singular word weighed heavily on their chest as the rumble of Leona's laugh accompanied it. "Sevens, you know by now, how much I wanted your answer to be yes." Yuu managed a nod, all but breathless from the sudden closeness. He pressed closer, impossibly, as he grinned with something boyish they had never seen.

"Herbivore." That teasing nickname had never sounded so sweet before. "We're dating now." Leona said it so much like a statement that they almost balked; even if they weren't opposed. They almost wanted to protest but his hand squeezed their own, "You're mine."

They didn't miss the possessive edge his voice took, raising an eyebrow, "That makes you mine too."

"Say it once."

They feigned innocence, thumbing at his hair, "Say what once?"

"You won't take mercy and indulge in me this once?" His ears seemed to droop the slightest bit. It was obvious that he did it on purpose. But by Sevens, Yuu was weak to him. And they knew it would only get worse with time.

But they knew now that Leona was just as weak to them.

They made sure to look him in the eyes as they spoke, "I'm yours, Leo—"

Leona was kissing them. Interrupting them, though they were sure he heard all that he wanted. Great Seven, his mouth. They could hardly think when Leona kissed them like a man starved of touch. His lips slid against theirs as his hands roamed, tracing their jaw and down their spine; both gentle and scalding. And all they could do was burn, their lips joining Leona's in a feverish dance. With each smooth glide of his mouth, they found it hard to stifle the sounds that threatened to spill from their chest, their grip tightening on his hair.

"Yuu," Leona murmured as he barely pulled away. And they could feel the way his lips shaped around the syllable of their name, brushing against their own. It was intoxicating. They never heard their name being said with such longing before.

Yuu almost wanted to kiss him again.

And they did, pulling him closer to press another kiss against his lips. Slower this time. Savoring the touch. And gentler, though they could still feel heat flare when Leona's tongue brushed their lip; which was too often to be unintentional.

They were both panting as they pulled back, and they couldn't tear their gaze away from Leona. Beautiful Leona, hair in disarray and his lips slick with spit, curved into the softest smile they had seen out of him yet.

"Wow, you really do like me," They breathed out, and they almost cringed at the disbelief in their voice.

Leona rolled his eyes, his expression returning to normal, "It took us making out for you to get it?"

"It took a moment for it to really sink in," They admitted as Leona fell beside them. "You’re out of my league, I think."

"I could say the same to you," Leona didn't seem to react, though his ear swiveled slightly. They were sure he was saying that to spare their feelings.

“So,” Yuu let their fingers slide against the back of Leona’s palm. "What now?"

He grunted, "Now we sleep."

A pause.

"You can't be serious."

"I'm being 100% serious, herbivore," Leona said, his chin pressing against their shoulder. "It's too early in the morning for anything right now."

Wait. Early in the morning…?

"Uhm, Leona?"

"What."

"I…” They mustered the most pitiful expression and tone they had in them. “I forgot to build a fire for the fairies this morning."

Leona opened an eye, "You mean when you were ignoring my existence?"

"You were practically ignoring me too!" Yuu sat up. Or at least tried to. It was hard when there was a seatbelt of muscle basically holding them down. "C'mon, Leona. You don't even have to come with me."

"I do have to come with you," Leona grouched, though he finally allowed them to sit up.

"And why is that?" Yuu asked as they stood up, reaching for their coat.

They spun around to find Leona standing there, jacket half on, "Because it's cold outside."

"You gotta have a better excuse than that," Yuu laughed, finding the frown on Leona's face almost cute. It was clear that Leona didn't want them to leave. They didn't want to leave either, but it wouldn't be funny if they made it through the entire break without missing their task only to get distracted by Leona.

"Fine. I'm supervising you," Leona took another step closer. "For every minute that you spend, I'm gonna extend our nap by five minutes."

Yuu took his hand, slipping it into their own pocket, "Let's just stick with the excuse that it's cold outside."

Leona didn't complain, huddling closer as they walked out. They squeezed his hand tighter as a gust of wind greeted them outside the Hall of Mirrors.

Yes, it was cold outside, but Yuu could hardly feel it. Not when their chest was buzzing with warmth. Not when they were feeling lighter than they had in days. And especially not with Leona by their side, complaining about how it should be a crime for winters to get this cold.

"It's almost the end of winter," Yuu said with a laugh. “Of course it’s cold.” Despite what they said, they huddled closer to Leona.

“At least it’ll be spring soon,” Leona yawned. “It’s perfect napping weather.”

Yuu made a show of tapping their chin, “Maybe I’ll go out on a couple of dates with my new lover.”

“Hmm,” Leona glanced at them sideways, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe you will. After you take a nap with him.” And they supposed that was how it was. They were dating the Leona Kingscholar after all. If they had to take a nap before going out on a date with him, then so be it. Once winter ends, there was no doubt they would have plenty of spring days to look forward to.

and that's (almost) the end !! thank you so much for reading this very largely self-indulgent series of mine, and thank you for not giving up on this ending ^^ the last part of the series is the epilogue, 'winter's aftermath', which will tie off the story for good. until next time, check out my masterlist for more leona-filled brainrot >:D

[ tiny swahili dictionary ]

mtoto means "child"

malkia wangu means "my queen"

see prev chapter for more explanations on each term ++ why i chose swahili

[ previous chapter | series post | epilogue ]

#/trau writes #/trau fics #yay the ending #the way i wrote the whole of them arguing #in the plane #i just loved how that scene panned out :]]]]#leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x you #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst fics #twst fic

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l0ves1ckf0ol · 1 year

Text

ISSUES. . . . xavier thorpe x gn!reader

"after that night he knew it was you all along."

genre: hurt/comfort

part 1

tags: @gutterrataesthetic

semestral break begins, students went home. well, most of them. you however decided to stay behind, after all the events that happened with wednesday you didn't want to go home to your family annoying you with questions about her. it's also because if you go home you would see xavier more since your father was close friends with mr. thorpe it wouldn't help you because your cause was to ignore him to get rid of the feelings that you felt for him. yes, he's a nice guy, and yes he probably is worth the wait- you just didn't want any distractions, or so you would call him.

you couldn't shake the memory of the night where you visited xavier in prison. you were sure you were going insane, but after that meeting you pretty much avoided xavier.

truth be told, he really is a good guy. you just worry for him because wednesday treats him like shit and he still seems to chase her around. you also thought of his trust issues towards bianca, he definitely did not have a great childhood. you didn't want to do something wrong and he'd go along with it, you were scared of hurting him unintentionally.

but thus, the universe ignored your prayers and there he was, sitting at one of the picnic tables at the quad, waiting out the laze of the semestral break.

it was nighttime thankfully, more places to hide within the shadows, though you could move and travel in shadows, your figure ought to be seen, kind of like how peter pan has his own shadow.

you weren't so lucky that evening.

xavier lowers his sketchbook to his lap and stared at the cobbled wall that you were hiding in, the warm candlelight illuminating your shadow. you held your breath, did he see you? "y/n?"

you cursed mentally and walked out the walls, as if it was a portal.

"didn't know you stayed behind for sembreak." you muttered, approaching him. you couldn't walk away now. do you even want to?

xavier closed his sketchbook and placed it on the table along with his pencil. "my dad's busy anyways." he sighs, sadly. you almost felt bad. "well you know, i'm supposed to be going home now, they gave me an earful earlier this afternoon rambling on and on about addams and how she must be making her parents proud and bla bla bla" you told him with a laugh, he chuckled.

he kept giving you this look, as if he was waiting for something- expecting from the lazy poltergeist.

"i haven't been talking to you lately after you got bailed out. you okay?" xavier scoffed, "don't give me that. you were the one ignoring me, why should you ask." he muttered bitterly. you sighed through your nose, "because i'm your friend, thorpe. believe it or not." you told him stiffly, crossing your arms. xavier stood up, towering over you.

"you're one to talk about being friends, you just pop up in my life when i'm in doubt, whenever i'm feeling low. you're like my personal therapist." he told you and you chuckled sarcastically, "oh i'm sorry, for trying to cheer you up. should i stop? i gladly will." you slightly raise your voice and he notices this, he has never heard you yell before. "it doesn't feel like we're even friends anymore, y/n." he clarifies. you stare at him, raising a brow.

"we used to meet up at the art studio, copy off of each other's homework, literally skipping class together- you never talk to me anymore. it's like i don't exist unless you feel the need to comfort me, i'm not a child." xavier argues, you wanted to shove him and run away right now but you had to face him somehow. you swallowed harshly, trying to restrain yourself from saying something stupid, but you did.

"you're one to talk about my own flaws when you can't even see what's happening right in front of you." you shot back, breathing heavily, you felt provoked by him. xavier's face scrunched up in confusion, "what do you mean??" he demands.

"hello! i get that you're head over heels for wednesday, and by seeing how she treats you? you can't even fucking see that, xavier." you told him, practically yelling at him now. he was stunned, he always saw you- carefree, wild spirited and funny. now you were an angry grenade about to go off. "your daddy issues are fucking showing xavier. i just want you to feel i'll be right here whenever a certain someome treats you wrong. because frankly, for some reason i can't get enough of you." you went off, stammering between your words as you're not used to arguing someone so tall and intimidating. xavier scoffed, picking up his materials and walked away.

you scowled, in disbelief "you're seriously walking away?" you tested him, he didn't turn around, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach, a feeling you loathed. "i don't even know why i like you!" you yell after him and ran straight to the shadows.

did he hear that right? xavier stopped in his tracks, looking behind him. you were gone. he didn't know why you said that, he didn't want to like wednesday, after that night- he knew it was you all along. you were there whenever wednesday wasn't, you were there when bianca couldn't make it. it was all you. he needed to find you. more or less in your dorm, that'd be creepy he thinks. whatever you said was the truth, he had issues. you were there to stick around and see how that unfold. you don't like racing, you didn't like pursuit, which is why xavier begins to theorize that you don't want to be some sort of an option to him. you just wanted to be there for him.

he didn't want to be a creep really, so he sat outside your door, sketching away into the night, hoping to catch you, sooner or later fell asleep.

you open the door, you couldn't sleep and figured might as well go do something. then you saw him. layed down on the floor, using his sketchbook as a pillow and his pencil right beside him. he looked ridiculous you could've laughed. he looked so at peace, lately its always been a sour face or a forced smile, now he's slightly drooling but at peace.

you knelt by him and traced your index finger on his nose, his cheekbones, his jaw, hearing him breathe gently caused you to feel more regret.

"y/n?" he slowly opens his eyes to see you, blinking twice to process what you were doing as you pulled back your hand so quickly. "you have a dorm, idiot. good night." you mumbled towards him, making him pout as you felt an arm reach out to you and a hand grasping yours, not letting you go. not this time.

"'m sorry." he hums softly, getting up as he's yet again tugging your sweater sleeve like a little boy, inviting you to sit next to him. so you did, he was only looking at you now, a look with dreadful longing. "i've loved you since forever. did you know that?" he told you, his words slurring due to being a little bit tired than usual. "i mean i did like bianca, but at first it was just for you to stop avoiding me." he huffs out, childishly frustrated, leaning his head against your shoulder. "don't talk about wednesday anymore, she was just another lookalike. you both dress the same, you used to braid my hair when we were kids- she reminded me of you." xavier whispers to your ear. "admit it, you were pretty dang attracted to wednesday too." you chuckled, thinking the same.

"i had a feeling you liked me back, i just thought you didn't want to be friends with me anymore." xavier muttered, you hum in thought. "hey please. talk to me, don't leave me hanging..." he huffs.

"prove it, that you like me." you told him, xavier gave you his sketchbook. "here."

you flutter through the pages, it was either you or your shadows, a drawing caught your eye though. it was when you were coming out of a wall, at the rave'n dance, wearing a flawless white suit, your hair styled in a different way. "want more proof?"

you looked at him as he was 3 inches closer to your face. "sure." xavier held your cheek and caressed it with his thumb, pressing your lips against his. finally, a moment you waited and loathed for.

#xu's fics #gn reader #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x gn reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday addams netflix

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 10 months

Text

You Feel Like Home To Me 💕✨

Part two to Home

Summary; Eric is sniffing around you once more which causes Eddie to have some realisations. Or alternatively, the one where Eddie gets a clue.

Warnings; Jealous Eddie, fluff, a bit of angst. 18+, minors dni. Friends to lovers, Eddie gets a clue ;)

If you enjoyed this then lmk 💕

Also is anyone experiencing trouble with the tags tonight? This is my second repost ✨ Annoying as heck 😩💕

Do not copy, reuse or repost my work.

✨💕✨💕

When you woke up after the party with a pounding headache and memories flooding back to you from last night, you were immediately embarrassed.

You told Eddie that he was so cute, that you wished he liked you. Shit!

What the hell did you say to him when you next saw him? How did you explain yourself?

Maybe you could just pass it off as being tipsy and Eddie would accept that.

You had hidden his you felt for so long so hiding it for a little longer wouldn't matter.

All you knew is Eddie had looked after you and you knew he cared for you as a friend, so in no way were you going to jeapordise that.

Somehow you had to move on from Eddie because you knew he would never return your feelings;.

💕✨💕✨

Eddie couldn't wait to see you. The new Nightmare on Elm Street movie was out and he was psyched to take you to go and see it.

Robin and Steve were coming along too and it was going to be a great night to just hang with friends, maybe smoke a little weed, bliss.

Things had been a little strange since the party, he has only saw you once since then and you hadn't brought up what you said after the party so he didn't either.

There was no way he was bringing up how you made him feel, that you felt like home because he didn't understand it himself.

Hopefully things would go back to normal soon...

What Eddie hadn't counted on was walking into Family Video and a grumpy Steve greeting him.

"Munson" he nods and Eddie claps him on the bag.

"What's up Steve? Not enough babes for you today?" he teases and Steve actually does crack a smile.

"Shit dude, it's him. He's been coming in for days. Annoying prick" Steve points to where you're working and Eddie stiffens.

Eric is there, a smarmy grin on his face and he is making you smile, the smile that's usually only reserved for him.

He doesn't like that one bit. Steve is right Eric is a prick, a handsy prick who's lucky he still has teeth after what occurred at the party.

You peer up at him and beam while rushing over to him. "Eddie"!

He never tires of the way that you light up when you see him. Your expression is what he feels inside every time he sees you.

"Hey princess. You ready for movie night?" at this point Eric struts up to you both and as you leave Eddie's arms, Eric smugly slings an arm around your shoulder.

Eddie's stomach clenches and he tries his best not to give into the urge of ripping Eric's arm right of you.

This concerns him because he's protective of you for sure but this feels so much more than that.

He's jealous, he's never been jealous at least like this anyway... This is different. The emotion fills him and all he wants to do is keep you close and away from those grabby hands of Eric's.

Coming in here. Flirting with my girl he fumes. Wait a minute... My girl.

You weren't his. Sure he thought you were smart, beautiful and sweet, amazing and funny but you weren't his

Fuck, he'd like you to be though, he really would and that's why things never worked out with Penny or Monica or any of the others.

Well shit...

💕💕

Much to your surprise, Eric had decided to join you at the movies, which had put Eddie in a foul mood.

You figured it was because Eric was encroaching on your time with Eddie.

It's not like you had met many of his dates, if you did meet them they didn't last long, Eddie never really had any girl that stuck around, it's like he was waiting for the perfect girl but just hadn't met her yet.

So maybe Eddie was jealous of Eric a little bit because he was scared that he would lose you as a friend.

That would never ever happen. Still, it's not like you could stay single all of your life while pining over Eddie.

He would meet an amazing girl eventually, you know you needed to move on from him and maybe giving Eric a chance was the way to do that.

Eric's arm casually slips around yours as he sits in the middle between you and Eddie.

"Hey, Munson. Scram. Three's a crowd dude" The look on Eddie's face makes you sense danger as his brown eyes flash.

"You know, I think I'm fine right here" Eddie growls and Eric shrugs.

"Suit yourself, dude"

The next half hour is the most awkward of your life as Eric flirts shamelessly with you and Eddie is concentrated on the movie, though his demeanour is tense.

Halfway through it, you're thirsty and Eddie offers to get you a drink. Eric follows him and your nerves grow even more as you exchange a glance with Robin and Steve.

This was not going to end well...

💕

Eddie didn't know why Eric followed him, he was getting on his last nerve.

"Dude, this is going great. Gotta say think I'm going to score tonight" Eric nudges him and Eddie stiffens.

"What?" Eric grins and throws an arm around him, Eddie thinks for a brief few seconds about punching Eric in his stupid smug mouth and shrugs his arm away.

"Come on man, tell me. You've tapped that right? Spill the deets" fury fills him and he glares at Eric.

"Don't talk about her like that" he warns him who did the douchebag think he was?

Didn't he realize how special you are? How any guy would be lucky to be with you. Of course, it would help if Eddie thought at least one guy was good enough for you but he didn't.

Not even Steve and he liked Steve a lot.

"I'm warning you, man. Shut up if you know what's good for you" Eric's smug smirk falls at these words and he snorts.

"Lighten up man. She's single, isn't she? Or are you in love with her or some shit?" Eddie doesn't hear anything else the douchebag says, he's coming to the realisation on something he should have known anyway.

Something he's suspected for a while but especially in the last few days.

He loved you and he was a fucking idiot for not seeing it any sooner.

"Really, Munson you think she's going to like a freak like you? Give me a break" Eric doubles over laughing and something inside Eddie snaps.

"Shut the fuck up. I mean it" he tells him coldly and all the colour drains from Eric's face before he laughs again, cocky as shit.

"Bet it will eat you up if I get there first huh?"...

At this point, Eddie stalks up to Eric but before anything can happen he hears you call his name.

"Babe, you gotta get your guard dog on a leash or something" Eric nods to you and you scowl, placing a tender hand on Eddie's chest before he lunges for Eric.

"I think you should go," you say to Eric who gapes, then shrugs.

"Whatever, got plenty of chicks I can score with" Ugh, you watch him go feeling disgusted.

Okay so Eric was definitely out of the picture, however you turn to Eddie still pissed at his attitude as well.

"We need to talk"

💕💕

You follow Eddie out beyond pissed as he calls Eric a few choice names. The ride home is fraught with tension and Eddie follows you inside as he still mutters about Eric.

It's all true, yeah but you're still annoyed at his attitude before Eric showed his true colours.

"Yeah he was a dick Eddie but before I knew that you were in a mood about something"

He swallows. ''That asshole was only after one thing"

"If he was a nice guy would you have the same problem?" he's silent then he speaks again.

"I would if he was an asshole who just wanted one thing"

"What does it matter? You sleep with women all the time so what does it matter if I wanted to sleep with a guy? No strings, no feelings just like you do?" you snap.

He doesn't say anything for a moment then looks you dead in the eye, resolve on his features.

"Yeah, and none of them works out and I've finally realised why" You pause and wonder what he means, motioning him to finish what he's saying.

"I'm in love with an amazing woman and I want her to know that she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and she feels like home"

Oh... your stomach sinks and you're desperate to show that you're happy for him even though your heart is breaking so badly.

"Oh, that's...that's great" he walks over to you and cups your cheek, his eyes warming.

"Oh, princess, come on. You know it's you I'm crazy about" You're stunned for a few seconds then break out into an ecstatic smile, trying very hard not to cry.

"Really?" he blushes as your hand entwines with his.

"Yes, took me long enough to realize, I think deep down I always knew. Seeing you with that douchebag was a wake-up call. I love you, sweetheart, you're my world, my home. I hope you know that"

All the anger and tension has faded from your body and your teary - happy tears - as you listen to Eddie's confession.

"I love you too Eddie" You kiss him and he pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

"I'm sorry I got so jealous, I'm sorry I was with those women when I should have realised it was you I wanted"

You kiss him again and he holds you close, you fit perfectly in his arms and contentment fills you. It's been such a whirlwind of a day but it couldn't have ended any better.

"It's okay, you did realise. You're here with me right now and all I want to do is feel your lips on mine" he grins.

"As you wish princess"

✨💕

Eddie marvels at you in his arms, naked body pressed close to his. The rise and fall of your breathing as you make love.

Sex has never felt like this before, it feels so incredible and he knows it's because it's with you.

"I love you" he looks deep into your eyes as he says this and your warm smile makes his heart skip a beat.

You whisper against his neck as you press kisses over it, that you love him too.

He holds you close to him, fireworks explode in his mind as you clench around him tight.

"Eddie" your soft moans drive him wild and he orgasms, spilling his seed inside you, he captures your mouth with his in soft kisses as your back arches and you orgasm whispering his name over and over again.

He smiles as you fall asleep in his arms, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

It's you, it's always been you. Now that you're his, he feels at peace, content.

Because you're his home, you always have been. Always will.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

212 notes · View notes

icequeenbae · 1 year

Text

Shot Through the Heart (m) | BBH

Related works: Snapshot (m) [pt.1], Giving Love a Shot (m) [pt.3]

Pairing: photographer!Baekhyun x idol!Reader ft. soloidol!Kai

Photographer AU, PWP, angst(ish?), smut

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, rough sex (incl. oral), angry sex(?), dirty talk, creampie

Word Count: ~4.5k

Summary: You and Baekhyun cross paths at work again. Problem is, your steamy photoshoots almost always lead to you having sex. Would the dynamic change if there’s another person in the room?

Author’s note: Hello my sweethearts!! I apologize for taking way too long to post this... Since last summer I wasn't nearly as active as before, and I wasn't sure why. But now that Baekhyunie is finally back from the military I suddenly feel slightly more energized. Maybe I'll post a bit more often from now on? 🙃 Unless my lovely @baekshoney kills me for making her beta read my crazy stories haha In any case, I hope you used your chance to refresh Snapshot in your memory, because this will be a continuation of the story of our idol!Reader and fuckb- ahem, photographer!Baek~

As always, my asks are open and I do my best to respond to all of your comments (in reblogs as well), so don't be shy to share any thoughts and impressions ❤️

Tags: @exo-writers-net @bbh-net @superm-net

The makeup crew was floating around you, pampering, and pampering, and pampering. You weren’t confident that there was even the slightest chance for your skin to survive this. It wasn’t unusual – photo shoots required just as much preparation as premiere events, the close-ups being rather demanding. Still, the more powdered your face became, the heavier you sighed, imagining the skincare routine you’d need to complete afterwards.

The best you could get from your make-up artists was help with removing the layers of whatever they used so generously on your face. The rest was up to you, and, fortunately, you care enough to go through with all of the gazillion steps of the process. Cleansing your pores, soothing your skin with toners and masks, applying serums and essences, using revitalizing creams… This took you forever, and any time you decided to skip a few steps, you ended up with acne, awfully dry or blotchy skin, or even more horrendous allergic reactions.

Tonight was going to be pretty long with all of the efforts that went into your behind-the-scenes glow-up.

‘Erase that frown, your makeup will get wrinkles, honey.’

Your frown only deepened as you heard his voice.

The women carrying the inquisition tools for your poor face almost squealed as he stepped closer. Baekhyun and his stupid charms. Even the makeup artists (in their late thirties to mid forties) were on the verge of fainting out of earthly existence whenever he walked by. You could swear he gave them a semi-interested onceover and a slight smile as soon as he stepped closer.

Although you really wanted to say something dirty just to take a swing at him, you stayed collected.

‘Is Kai ready?’ You asked with a scowl. ‘I want this over with. It’s been a long day.’

The day in question was indeed long. This photoshoot began in the morning, and you kept changing outfits and settings. Today's concept was ‘honeymoon’, so you and your partner – the biggest male solo act in your company – did your best to portray a young couple having the time of their lives. And this was supposed to be the final setting. The newlyweds’ bedroom.

After the huge sensation that your pool photoshoot became, your management decided that having you do more sexy and borderline scandalous concepts wasn’t a bad idea. Easy to monetize, anyway. So here you were, waiting to get half-undressed and possibly groped by none other than your sunbae.

Kai debuted only a year before you, and was instantly famous. His dancing skill was incredibly flamboyant, so it wasn’t surprising how quick he was to capture the audiences’ hearts. He was also a well-known heartthrob in the business, although most of the stuff in the media was made up to hype him up. This was a perfect opportunity to promote both of your albums, especially riding the wave from your previous sexy shoot.

‘Did I hear you call out for me, my love?’ Your partner for the day walked into the room bearing all of the grace in the world.

The swoons renewed, and you barely managed to prevent your eyes from rolling backwards.

‘Stop calling me that already.’

‘How can I? We should stay in character to convey the newlywed passion accurately.’

‘If you keep talking like the company staff in the meetings, I’m gonna barf.’

‘That doesn’t sound sexy. Not at all.’ Kai scrunched up his nose before winking at you. ‘But, in sickness and in health, right?’

‘Alright, lovebirds. Finish up your makeup and let’s do this. The sunrise will be over soon and I want to catch you in natural lighting.’

‘Mine is done,’ Kai quipped, climbing on the bed next to you.

‘I certainly hope that mine is too.’

‘We’re almost finished, Y/N-ssi. Just making sure your skin doesn’t look oily in the pictures,’ one of the staff members provided.

You gave her a pointed look before someone seized your face and tilted your head backwards to examine it closely.

‘Looks matte enough to me. Let’s clear the room.’ Baekhyun murmured before repeating louder for the rest of the team.

‘How cute,’ Kai chuckled in your ear while the photographer busied himself with the equipment.

Sighing, you avoided his teasing gaze.

Kai was also a friend. And one of the very few people who knew that you had something going on with Baekhyun. Prior to this shoot, you had asked him to be discreet about it, especially since the whole topic of your relationship with the blond was sensitive. You didn’t want him (or the staff!) to get the wrong idea. So, your sunbae’s occasional ‘meaningful’ looks seriously made you tick.

‘Alright, let’s begin.’ Baekhyun finally closed the door and turned around, eyeing you with precision. ‘Stand in front of the bed, so that she could look up at you. A bit to the left.’

He took a couple of shots, mumbling something in affirmation. You glanced in his direction while he was checking something in his camera.

‘Look at him, not me,’ Baekhyun pressed playfully, and Kai snatched it away from him.

‘Right, look at me only, wifey!’

His fingers touched your face to get your attention, and you heard a few clicks.

The three of you were quick to fall into step, and soon enough you’d moved on to posing on the bed. Play fighting, hugging each other, almost kissing – all with strict instructions from your photographer. This was… exhibitionistic in a way.

Only half an hour into the process, Kai was already shirtless. Baekhyun also ditched the usual hoodie, and you glanced at the plain tee he was wearing underneath. It hugged his chest tightly and made you crave touching it. But you weren’t about to act on this impulse.

‘Show more skin. Ride her dress up a bit and put your palm on her hip. Yes. And keep looking at her like this.’

You nodded to Kai as he gave you a chance to refuse and held onto his shoulders while watching him proceed. The pads of his fingers were cool, so it naturally roused goosebumps all over your thigh. Blinking at the reaction of your skin, you looked away, bashful. But in that, you turned to the other man.

Baekhyun stared at Kai’s hand for a second or two longer than necessary, and then got back to finding the best spot to capture it. The click of the shutter brought you back to reality, and you realized your eyes were on him the entire time.

‘Lie down,’ the photographer commanded, voice laced with gruffness. ‘Kai, stay up on your elbow.’

The whole thing was more uncomfortable than sexy, if anyone asked you. Posing or acting that way wasn’t at all intimate. For all of the people present it was simply their job, and you were enormously thankful that there were only the three of you. Having more spectators would’ve made this so much direr.

Nevertheless, the biggest hardship on your account was your and Baekhyun’s eyes accidentally crossing paths. The way he looked at you gave you chills. His eyes were hollow, dimmed by the scenes he was conjuring up in his mind, no doubt. The shameless desire he had for you made your own pulse pick up. Damn him and his effect on you.

The tension forming between you was almost palpable, and you were getting a bit nervous.

Kai asked something in a hushed voice, and you nodded. As soon as you did, a touch to your inner thigh made you jolt.

‘Sorry. I assumed your nod meant it’s okay,’ he eyed you half-curiously and half-apologetically.

You cleared your throat.

‘Uh- yeah. I’m just- ticklish.’

Baekhyun huffed, and you kept yourself from glaring at him. Yes, you lied. You weren’t ticklish there, you were sensitive. As a person, who used every opportunity to shove his face between your thighs, he knew that very well.

‘No need to actually get under her skirt.’ He stressed, looking at Kai.

‘Jealous much?’ The model murmured back mockingly, and Baekhyun frowned.

‘Why would I be?’

‘Ask your boner.’

As soon as the words left Kai’s mouth, both you and Baekhyun looked at his crotch. It was obvious that something was stirring up, even though he wasn’t visibly tenting. Otherwise, the blond wouldn’t have reacted to the provocation so easily.

Gulping, you tore your eyes from his pants to turn to your ‘husband’ for today. He grinned charmingly at you, caressing your cheek.

‘I hope you’re getting this, Baekhyun-ah,’ he nudged, again, messing with him. ‘Wifey here is living her best moments.’

Addressing Baekhyun so very informally while he was two years older than him was a challenge.

‘As if you know what you’re doing,’ the photographer shot back, tilting his head to the side.

You furrowed your eyebrows, not quite grasping where this childish rivalry came from.

‘And you think you’d do better if you were in my place?’

Kai’s hand stroked the curve of your waist before resting on your hip again.

‘I know I’d do better,’ Baekhyun sneered coldly. ‘I do better whenever I am.’

As he said that, your vision went dark for a split second. You literally thought he was crazy. He had no idea that Kai knew about your… whatever this was between you. And being so explicit about it made you question his motives once again.

What was this even? Marking his territory? You’d been around long enough to understand that this wasn’t his ordinary behavior, and you in no way agreed to being his territory.

‘How about I touch you some more, love?’ Kai teased, leaning in provocatively.

‘How about you do not?’ Baekhyun interrupted.

As you look up at the photographer, you notice the tick in his jaw. He seemed properly frustrated at this point. You realized you’d never seen him this annoyed. He looked… hot, even. Very similar to what he looked like when he was on top of you, excruciatingly close to coming.

The thought made you gulp.

‘Why not? I say we make this concept a reality. Someone’s eager anyways,’ Kai smirked, raising a sassy eyebrow.

Baekhyun returned his gaze, chin defiant.

‘I don’t share.’

You couldn’t explain why, but hearing this curt phrase had you biting down on your lip for a second, to contain a moan from the sudden pulse through your core. This was probably nothing, just men being… well, men. But you decided to wait and see where this would lead you.

‘Alright then. Let’s give the lady of hearts the choice! Whom would you like to leave this room, peaches? I call her peaches, because, I mean, you’ve probably seen that gorgeous ass of hers…’

Kai trailed off, almost making you chuckle. He’d never actually called you that before.

But you’d accepted the fuse and lit it.

Taking a couple seconds to exchange gazes with Kai, you then slowly turned to face Baekhyun. And then you motioned towards the door with your eyes.

His lower lip twitched in a way you couldn’t miss.

‘I see. Guess we’ll be carrying on without you,’ the model singsonged.

Baekhyun’s expression hardened. You knew you were in trouble as soon as he carefully put his camera down and ran his fingers through his blond hair.

‘Get out.’

You knew you were in trouble.

‘She just said-’

‘She’ll change her mind in no time,’ Baekhyun ripped the door open. ‘Out.’

Kai fell silent at the authoritative tone the photographer now acquired. He turned to you and you nodded slightly, agreeing to submit yourself to whatever awaited. You watched him get off the bed and walk out of the room reluctantly before the door was shut and locked behind him.

Baekhyun turned around, and you were met with the darkest expression you’d ever seen on his handsome face. You felt your skin prickle with goosebumps, and your tongue instinctively ran over your lips.

Furiously aroused. That he was.

The photographer walked towards you silently before grabbing you by the hair and dragging you off the bed and onto the floor. Before you knew it, his pants were down, and his dick was deep in your throat. Not that you weren’t ready for that.

‘Fucking slut.’ His voice was low and merciless.

Baekhyun went at it, rough and fast, keeping you on your knees while fucking your face. You looked straight at him despite your eyes watering, and there was no doubt that your makeup was instantly ruined. But you didn’t really protest, letting him use your mouth to ease his frustration.

This was new. Exciting.

You whimpered, and he panted as the pleasurable vibration in your throat made his pelvis stutter. So, you did it again. On purpose, this time. Baekhyun grunted, tugging you away.

‘Enjoying yourself too much, I believe,’ he smirked at you, breaths ragged, and slapped your face with his fully hard cock.

Giving him a sharp look for going as far as to destroying the rest of your makeup, you shifted in your spot.

‘No. You don’t get to give me attitude after acting like a whore.’

He wasn’t gentle when he got you up on the bed again, on all fours. Slapped your ass in the process as well.

‘Is this where you wanted his hand to go?’ He traced your inner thigh before slipping under your panties and smearing your arousal around your entrance. ‘Dripping, aren’t you, little slut?’

He slammed two fingers inside and you yelped. You weren’t ready for such an unceremonious intrusion. Still, without giving you a second to recover, he began fingering you. Because he knew that if you didn’t lean forward, that was because it felt really damn good. His long fingers were quick and harsh, and the pace made you start sobbing in seconds.

It was divine.

But Baekhyun got impatient soon enough and flipped you over on your back. You felt his palms on your thighs as he pulled up your dress and removed your littered panties.

This wasn’t something you did often, and maybe you should’ve been offended by his ways of handling you… On the other hand, you felt so naughty that you were ready to beg him to fuck you.

Fortunately, there was no need to do so. He wasted no more than two seconds getting on top of you before beginning to pound you into the mattress. The sex was fast and angry, and you were surprised that it didn’t hurt. Or maybe you simply couldn’t feel the pain, because of how enthralled you were by this man.

The photographer’s blond hair looked messy, and you got a handful just to spite him. Smirking breathlessly, he threw one of your legs over his shoulder to stretch you out, and went even harder. It was clear that your pussy was nothing but a wet slippery mess that Baekhyun tore through like a feral animal. You whined, arching your back to get the best of his thrusts, while the pleasure in your center was building and spreading like a forest fire. The sensation was subtle in the beginning, yet progressed rapidly to intense throbbing.

His fingers rubbed your swollen lips, almost making you drool, and his hips kept up the brutal pace. The blond’s eyes stared deep into yours, and you simply couldn’t hold his gaze.

‘B-Baekhyun, I’m gonna c-’ Your breath hitched as the wave of your pleasure subsided to start building back up right away. ‘Oh-h my god-’

It usually wasn’t this intense. Once your release was there, it was there. This time… It came and went, and you were dying for him to push you over the edge.

‘Want me to leave the room now?’ Baekhyun gritted vindictively, enjoying your helplessness underneath him.

‘Please-’ Your eyes kept rolling backwards with every abrupt press of Baekhyun’s lips to the blotchy skin of your neck until you couldn’t take it anymore, muttering like a mad woman. ‘I’m coming, I’m coming, oh fuck, I’m… Baek- mph-’

His palm was swift to find your mouth and cover it, sealing your moans just in time.

Shaking violently, you didn’t even notice the moment he let your leg slide off his shoulder to press closer to your vulva with each movement. The rubbing of the sensitive skin, the wetness and squelching, the uncontrollable shaking… You hiccupped, enduring all that while he continued fucking into you until he finished as well.

Your eyes fluttered shut as soon as the last spurt of his cum filled your insides. There was no pulling out this time, and it was exactly how you needed it. You’d never had angry wild sex like this, and finishing it any other way would’ve been a disgrace.

He didn’t pull out for a minute, and you just blinked away the water in your eyes. You weren’t really crying; it was a natural reaction to the intensity of the act.

In fact, your mind was so entirely blank and smoothed out that when Baekhyun suddenly looked you in the eye, it startled you.

‘Date me.’ He repeated his long-standing offer, forcefully this time.

As you opened your mouth to refuse again, you ended up immobilized by both his weight and determined gaze.

‘Why not?’ He pressed, guessing the intended answer.

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Bullshit. Why not, Y/N?’

He slipped out, and you flinched, sitting up as well. The aftershocks of your pleasure still had you on edge, and you had to clear your throat before announcing what your thoughts on the subject were.

‘I don’t want a boyfriend who can’t keep it in his pants.’

Baekhyun clicked his tongue.

‘Interesting. I haven’t had sex once since our last shoot, what, 3 months ago? And you’re telling me I can’t keep my penis in check?’

You rolled your eyes, unappreciative of his ‘heroic’ abstinence duration. He didn’t let it slide.

‘Hey, you may think it’s nothing. But- I’ve never gone longer than a couple of weeks without it. And I haven’t masturbated this much since I first hit puberty,’ he sighed and tongued his cheek, contemplating his next words. ‘I just can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. And I don’t want anyone else.’

Looking down, you avoided his eyes. His reputation preceded him, and you knew exactly what he was famous for in some circles.

‘Yeah, I did screw around. A lot. But it’s because I chose to. This…’ he motioned between you, ‘is different.’

You scoffed at his words.

‘Spoken like a true fuckboy.’

‘So, you’re gonna hold it against me? What am I guilty of, being young and healthy, being a man? Or never having met anyone I wanted to start something serious with?’

Pursing your lips, you allowed him to continue.

‘I cared about none of those girls, Y/N, and I never told them otherwise. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, only to satisfy my needs. You have no idea how frustrated even a few days of no sex make me. I don’t know, I just have a high sex drive, maybe.’

‘Yeah, I’ve noticed.’ You muttered.

‘I’m serious.’

‘I hear you, Baekhyun,’ you raised your arms, asking him to chill. ‘But I can’t say it doesn’t scare me away. You’re not exactly what they call boyfriend material.’

He exhaled sharply, visibly irritated by your attitude.

‘That’s not fair. I am not going to deny that since the moment I saw you for the first time, all I could think of was getting you naked and underneath me. And maybe for a second, I believed that it was going to solve everything. But it didn’t work,’ he hesitated before clarifying. ‘I never lost my interest in you.’

You scoffed again, this time in offense.

‘So, you just wanted to fuck me to get it out of your system?’

‘Fucking you wasn’t my goal, initially. I- Remember how we met?’

Of course, you remembered. It happened last year at a huge annual gala held by one of the top entertainment broadcasting companies. You ran into each other at the afterparty, conversed, had a good time and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. At the end of the evening, he insisted on giving you his number…

All in all, it went great, and you even intended to hit him up. Until the next day, when one of your members told you to stay away from him. She said he was trouble and shared that she’d heard plenty of relays of his Casanova adventures on the grapevine. How he liked to mingle with all the pretty young models he conducted photoshoots with, and how managers didn’t let rookies out of their sight whenever they had to work with him. You remembered very well how your high hopes for him had crumbled that day.

‘Yeah, at the gala.’ You answer matter-of-factly. ‘We ran into each other.’

‘The afterparty,’ he nodded. ‘But do not think for a second that we’ve met by accident.’

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

‘I don’t follow.’

‘Y/N…’ He shifted on the bed next to you. ‘I ‘bumped’ into you on purpose. I liked you. And I liked you even more by the end of that night, which seemed mutual. But you never called.’

Swallowing, you looked away.

‘I- Heard things. About you. And I didn’t want to be another notch in your belt for people to talk about.’

‘Yet the next time we saw each other, after your group photoshoot… I didn’t come to your dressing room to fuck you, you know? I wanted to ask you out. Discreetly.’

You sneered.

‘Right. Your platonic means didn’t last, as far as I recall.’

‘You’re the one who was at the door wearing nothing but a robe! Also, you dragged me inside.’

‘I didn’t want anyone to see you! You know gossip travels fast.’ You argued.

That wasn’t a lie, you had many eyes on you at the time. Even now being caught together like this could’ve been problematic. You pulled him into your dressing room without thinking. But as soon as you were left alone… Something came over you. It was impossible to bring to mind who made the first move then, but just a few moments later you were already kissing.

That photoshoot started your little ‘tradition’ of having sex after each one.

‘I was too infatuated with you to stop. And you kicked me out so fast afterwards,’ he continued ranting. ‘I know it’s my fault that I didn’t- But it’s not fair for you to judge me. I liked you for a long time, and you always kept me at an arm’s length. You only ever allow me to get close when we fuck.’

‘That’s not- Uh- Maybe it is true. And I told you why.’

‘Come on, Y/N,’ he ruffled his blond hair up in frustration. ‘I admit that I’m no church oppa. Still, that doesn’t mean that I can’t be a good boyfriend.’

‘Up until you don’t see me for longer than a couple weeks. And that’s bound to happen sooner or later.’

He let out a frustrated huff, getting off the bed, pulling his pants up and beginning to pace the room.

‘You’re driving me crazy. Why are you pushing me away? Do you prefer it the way it is now?’

Looking away from him, you gave a soft answer.

‘No.’

‘Then what? Do you even know how many half-nude photoshoots I had in the span of these 3 months? I didn’t even care. At all. The girls seemed disappointed, but I didn’t care. Because none of them were you.’

‘Maybe you just want me because I keep saying ‘no’ to you.’ You sounded unsure, because you were.

Things were popping into your head now, stuff you’d heard on the idol radio in the past few weeks. Like your members gossiping about the main dancer of another group, who was salty about getting turned down by a photographer on a recent occasion. They discussed in great detail what she’d said, and you remembered a couple facts.

The girl was angry, because they’d had sex before and she knew he didn’t do the same person twice. Her pride was hurt since she was sure she could be the one he overlooked his principle for, and he did not. Another thing (you remembered it since your maknae became flaming red when this was brought up) was that… she couldn’t get him to go down on her even the first time. She was pissed, because, apparently, the guy didn’t like oral. Which, in your mind, was certainly proof that it was a different photographer. Baekhyun was the oral sex guy. He loved putting his mouth to good use, and he (like any man) welcomed a casual blowie, so that couldn’t have been him. Unless?

‘What’s your stance on oral sex? Giving?’

Baekhyun stopped pacing and looked at you in surprise.

‘What?’

‘Just answer the damn question.’ You huffed impatiently, letting your feet down to get off the bed as well.

The slow trickle of his seed caused you to cross your legs.

‘I love it. I could do it all day with you. Why?’

‘And with others?’ You clarified, withholding your disappointment.

‘I’ve never done it with others.’ The earnest tone of his voice stunned you.

Reading the look of disbelief on your face, he shrugged.

‘I told you. Fucking was to blow off some steam and nothing more. With you… it’s not.’

He came closer and took your face in his palms.

‘I’ve always been serious about you, Y/N. And I need you to give me the benefit of the doubt.’

‘You’re asking for a lot.’ You closed your eyes as he pressed his forehead to yours.

‘I know. But I promise I’ll do my best to- not fuck this up. It’s new to me. So- don’t get mad at me, just guide me and tell me what you need. I’m a quick study,’ he took a breath, and you realized you needed one as well. ‘If you want me to shower you with flowers or send you sugary ‘good morning’ messages, just say the word. I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend, but I want to be one for you.’

You looked him in the eye, evaluating his sincerity. And he seemed so overwhelmingly genuine that you couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away this time.

‘Okay…’

He blinked.

‘Okay?’

‘Yes. We can… try.’

Baekhyun’s eyes became wide, and he suddenly grabbed you and swirled you around.

‘Sh- no, put me back down!’ You whisper yelled at your… boyfriend?

This was crazy. Your train completely went off the rails.

‘Nicely played!’ The voice behind the door exclaimed.

You both froze, then Baekhyun put you back down, frowning.

That was without a doubt… Kai’s voice.

‘Is he… still here?’ The blond asked out loud.

‘Of course! I couldn’t chill out forever without attracting suspicion. And did you really expect me to not come back to eavesdrop? I’m going back, but Y/N’s manager might be coming up any moment now.’ The voice became more distant by the end of the sentence.

Both of you looked back at the messed up (and cum-stained) bed and the state of your own clothing and makeup.

You swore in unison.

‘Shit!’

Masterlist

A/N: Done with part 2, what about part 3? 🤪 Alright, let's get a breather first. Don't be shy to drop an ask and reblog to give your author here some gratification for the nights of no sleep 😊

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