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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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I Never Missed You 1/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 3.5 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: 1/3 You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. The first chapter features banter and pining. If you're here for smut, stay tuned. There is an entire chapter of it coming right up.

Your lawyer says it would be a good idea. He even dares to look at you from under his brow like you're a child who doesn't know what's good for her.

And you don't.

Because that's exactly how you feel like: a grown woman who's stunted to a kid, now being supervised by adults.

The bodyguard they assigned you - the one you accepted because he was your lawyer's first choice - is exactly the broad, brooding type you have always imagined bodyguards to be like.

But he's not wearing sunglasses, and he's not wearing a suit. He says the point of a bodyguard is that they don't look like a bodyguard.

The first thing you actually pay attention to is the milky-white eyelashes. Only days after you hear that this man rarely shows his face. You were given a file on him, but you never peeked inside it because you were pissed that such drastic measures had to be taken in the first place. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Now you pry it from the pile of papers you buried it into, open it, and the first - and only - photo you see is a perfect portrayal of what Death looks like.

He's the Reaper himself when adorned with that human skull. Keen but emotionless eyes stare from the pits of the sockets to somewhere in the distance, but that look is a stare into the past. The photo raises thousands of questions, and not only the need to know why this man prefers to wear human bones when he's shooting people.

Because apparently, that’s what he used to do before he became a bodyguard. He's buff, that you already know. But in that picture, he looks even more packed, with what you suppose is a bullet vest beneath that blouse. He’s holding an ugly-looking gun – not a pistol, but a rifle of some sort. The gear on him no doubt weighs something close to 60 pounds. His sleeves are rolled up and expose the crisscross veins on his forearms along with war-ugly, crude tattoos, and you swallow.

Were you really looking at a picture of a barbaric soldier like it was some peculiar soft porn now?

You flip the file closed and toss it on the table, rather disgusted with yourself.

The next time you see him, you look into those brown eyes a moment longer. That stoic stare is the only thing you recognize as that of the man in the picture. That, along with his size, although photos really can't convey how this brooding grunt makes you feel: small and insignificant. Nor do they illustrate how the man looks like he’s the most graceful bull in a china shop when moving inside your house.

You suppose he grew up poor, the way he looks at your furniture, your half-a-mile bookshelf, and the latest art piece you got last month in your living room. He's judging you.

You're posh. And clueless. And a child.

And this brute lives with you, for now. He's placed downstairs until the target is neutralized. And he's not just a bodyguard: he's hunting the hunter while you're the bait.

It should give you a thrill; your friend giggles when you two gossip about him over a lunch while he's standing only a few feet away. But this situation does not give you a thrill. It just makes you pissed.

And it's not just the situation, it's this... Simon Riley who makes you pissed.

Couldn't they teach manners, some conversation skills at the bodyguard school or wherever the hell this pale, emotionless Hulk came from?

You recheck his file and snoop some more details about his past. He didn't go to bodyguard school (of course he didn't); he used to work for some PMC. The brute's a cold-blooded, cold-hearted mercenary. To put it more eloquently, he's an elite soldier of some tactical unit. But all of that is classified, as is almost every other detail about him. The only thing you are left with is that he's British through and through, but you can already tell that by his accent - the thick Mancunian that makes your stomach and heart flip.

It's gruff – of course it's gruff – and sometimes chafes your ears like they were being grated with the softest grater. You find yourself thinking about him while you're in the shower, when your fingers start to drift and wander.

And for the love of god, you are not thinking about that accent and those eyes while you're masturbating. You're not going to mourn the fact that he never rolls his sleeves when he's with you. When he's at work.

"I saw your file," you start to chitchat over breakfast one day.

"I reckon."

He won't even touch the coffee you poured him but proceeds to drink almost all the tea. The delicate china looks miniature in his hands as he pours the Earl Grey into his cup. The cups are dainty, too – this savage would prefer a large, black mug, perhaps, from which to gulp his tea.

"So. What made you become a soldier?"

"Joined the SAS when I was 17."

And another thing he won't do is look at you when you speak. No manners at all in this man, only rough, sharp edges. He sits as far from you as he can, at the other end of the table, as if you were in a meeting. Or a war council.

"That's not what I asked."

"I know."

You roll your eyes. Conversation skills, god. Just give this man at least some charm…

"I'm going to do some shopping," you declare. "You can stay here."

Finally, he raises his stare. It's full of tired distaste.

"Nah. That's not how this works."

You rise from the table, gracefully and with a neutral face, indicating that you are an adult and won't be needing a babysitter at a store.

"Lady."

The command is dark and stops you before you have taken one step from the table. It's a slur, almost.

He rises from the table too, and you almost feel sorry, noticing he hasn't yet finished his toast.

"You hired me. And I'm gonna do my job."

He looks big and broad, like a beautiful storm, with that piercing stare and the most alluring lashes you have ever seen on a man. Your voice turns into a meek, pitched attempt to reason with a giant.

"...I'm just going shopping."

His head tilts with a mock: you're only a child in his eyes.

"Then let's go shopping."

…......…......

Sitting next to this giant in a taxi must be a hilarious-looking scene. A charming, vibrant lady and a sullen, intimidating Theseus – what a pair.

You've also never been this close to him. The man always sits with a wide spread. One heavy thigh almost touches your knees, which you have turned towards him for some unfathomable reason. You were taught to sit with knees closely set together, and that’s what you’re trying to do now: make yourself as small and feminine as possible. It only accentuates this man's size compared to yours. There's a pile of shopping bags between you two, and your gaze is directed outside the window, but you can feel his presence like there's a thrumming monolith beside you.

And he's always dressed in black. You kind of enjoyed how you two looked at the store: you in your heels and a pearl white suit, he in black, tactical ripstop and boots. You wouldn't define the man well-dressed… but he is sharply dressed in his own field, that's for sure. Even a commoner like you could see that.

He had complained about your clothes. White draws too much attention and makes for a bigger target. You had brushed him off with a scoff. You’re not going to change the way you dress because of this.

"You're from Manchester, right?"

You're only trying to make the journey home more enjoyable, but feel like you're snooping again, this time from the man himself. The less you know about Simon Riley, the more you want to learn who he is. It is only natural to get a little curious when his file barely had two paragraphs and a photo. You suppose even that single picture was taken and given forward with reluctance.

And the only thing you learn is that small talk is a completely foreign concept to this man.

"You're quite the Sherlock," he mutters with that fat accent that gave him away the minute you two shook hands. You Sherlock about some more, look at the left hand that rests on his thigh.

There's no ring. Not even a tan line. He must be lonely: no relationship could stand working hours like these.

"Do you still live there?"

"...No."

"Do you miss the place?"

"No."

The short answers are guttural and spoken from the back of his throat. You don't know if he's doing it on purpose, or if this Simon is like this with everyone. He's not annoyed, though, not the way you're beginning to be.

"Aren't you a chatty one…" you mumble while watching cloudy London pass by. You figured he might hear it, and perhaps that was your purpose, even if your voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm not here to talk. Ma'am."

…......…......

You are told to stay away from the windows. The dinner table is moved so no one can aim at your head through a glass. And even then, most curtains must be closed at all times.

He goes through doors first, and advises against going out at all. You get a list of things you should take into consideration if you do go out.

And you’re not going to give in to fear.

You simply take different routes to your friends and family, have lunches at different restaurants than usual. He says you should get an armored car, but you don’t have a license. Of course your brooding bodyguard could drive, but what will you do with some armored tank after you're finally through this thing?

What's far more interesting is that it turns out this Simon Riley is a smoker.

Disgusting, you think at first, then think about him all sweaty and grimy after some gunfight, reaching for a cig, curling those thick fingers around a pure-white coffin nail. No, wait – he had gloves in that picture; he wouldn't bother to take them off before he smoked, he would just lean on his gun and on some crumbling wall and sigh from the joy of being alive, of being bloodied and dirty and victorious before taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Ugh.

Reluctantly you agree that perhaps there is an odd charm to this man after all. Either that, or then you are in need of some serious therapy.

Breakfasts are torturingly quiet with Simon, and you can hear the slow roll of eyes every time you make plans to go to a party or an art gallery.

Once, a zipper gets stuck and you have to ask him for help. It’s mortifying, and he doesn’t say a word, only mocks you with his eyes as you turn around for him to place a warm hand on your hip and another on your back to pull up the zipper you had fought to reach and drag up by yourself for at least 10 minutes.

A week passes, and he’s buried in work, not only because he’s guarding your body 24/7, but because he’s trying to locate the hitman. The fact that Simon Riley is technically speaking a hitman too - to think that you have hired a killer - is something you don’t have the mental strength to delve into right now.

"Found the one who's hunting you."

Another file is dropped before you at the end of the week. The man marches into your office like there's no door there at all. Doesn't even bother to knock.

This isn't what you meant when you politely told him to make himself home…

You roll the glass of water on your temple and sigh. The file reveals another photo, this time of a man who looks like an executioner.

"Goes by the name König," he says and clasps his hands over his crotch while taking a wide stance in front of your desk. "Austrian war criminal. Skilled with knives… Likes to torture people first."

Nice. More brutes.

"Why are you telling me this?"

You're tired, there's a headache approaching, and you really don't care to go over some details about a professional lunatic killer right now. But Simon Riley - codenamed Ghost, you’ve lately learned - looks down at you like a storm cloud over a carefree meadow.

"Because you clearly don't understand the danger you're in."

He adds "Ma'am" as a footnote. Purposely forgotten...

And you wish he would forget that silly, overly courteous term.

"Well–" you sigh your frustration in the air between you two, then realize that perhaps you're being treated like a child because you behave like one. "What are you going to do about this man...?"

"Gonna kill him," he simply shrugs, the eternal, distant look in those eyes gaining a smug tone to them.

He enjoys this. Enjoys killing, but what's even worse, enjoys seeing how his ruthlessness makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Or perhaps he just likes shocking you with that file with an image of a lyncher in it. You know perfectly well that you're in trouble and under threat. That's what you've tried to forget, but no one lets you forget.

Simon takes a deep breath before placing his humble petition before you.

"Ma’am. I'm gonna need your help."

And nothing in this man is humble. Even though he rarely speaks and never shows his talents, not to talk of showing off, he reeks of pride and testosterone.

You set the glass on the table and straighten the file to align with the leather pad on your desk. Your fingers are not trembling. Yet.

"What do you mean?"

He gives a hoarse laugh. The sound drills straight to your core and starts to bloom there. You realize you have never seen him smile before. And he's not smiling now: the short laugh is just a dark chuckle that mainly stays inside his chest; it only makes those stocky shoulders rise and fall.

"Not like that," he looks down at you with a tad of mercy. "You're gonna serve as bait."

"Isn't… that what I've been the whole time?"

"Yeah. But this time, we're gonna lure him in."

The way he talks makes your thighs rub together without your consent. You wonder what it would feel like if you were trapped between that solid chest and a wall, what it would be like if those hands woke you up with a calloused caress of a thigh.

You don't quite understand the difference between bait and a lure but find yourself willing to do whatever you can to help him. Help Simon…

"Sure... I'll help you," you say as if this man wasn't on your payroll.

"That's the least you could do."

That barely hidden bite in his dry retort doesn't escape you. This man's audacity buries whatever odd want you have started to feel for him and replaces it with searing, womanly fury.

He could be a little more sensitive.

You're the one who has a target on their back. You're the one who fears going to sleep at night and feels lucky they're alive come dawn. If he wasn't so crude and uncaring, you would've asked him to sleep in the same room with you from the start. But he has to be a brute, has to follow and mock you with those ink blot eyes at every turn.

You rise from the chair when he turns and walks toward the door. It's almost a snappy jump, an attempt to reclaim your power. You're sore and thoroughly peeved.

"I never wanted this," you tell him with an annoying timbre in your tone. He stops right before the door but doesn't turn.

"Neither did I."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Could be somewhere warmer with no damsels giving me their cheek."

The BDU blouse you saw in that picture was yellow, burnt yellow. Desert wear… He wants to be in a hot desert with a cold gun in his hand. Dropped straight from some plane, working alone, in a place where damsels aren't giving him their cheek. Where there are no damsels at all.

You're relatively sure there is no Mrs. Riley. No woman could stand this man.

"Then go somewhere warmer," you snap, almost stomp your heel on the soft carpet. This man is simply intolerable. The way he never reacts to anything makes you want to throw things at him.

He must be trained to be so calm, but you're not. You're used to making men a little stupid and flustered. You're used to men eating out of your hand. He's not behaving at all like he's supposed to. Simon Riley is just a mountain without emotion.

He turns with that eternal, downgrading look in his eyes. There's a flash of amusement there, too.

Soddy bastard…

"Nah. Not until I've done my job."

His voice is warm now; the gruff and gravel make way to a smoothness that goes directly to your knees. Your lips part, and his eyes fall on your mouth just before he lifts his chin a hair of an inch.

"Your job…" you breathe, too furious to even rage or shout.

Your fucking job.

Why did you even want this job if it's so–

"Yeah. My job. Some people got one."

You have to take support from the table with your fingertips.

"Excuse me?"

There's the tiniest curve at the corner of his mouth before he takes his leave.

"Good night, ma'am."

…......…......

The next day, you start the breakfast by apologizing.

You barely slept that night, first because of this man's utter nerve, then because your wrath eventually cooled down into a bleeding consciousness of how you must look in his eyes.

He has accepted this job, something different from what he usually does, for reasons unknown to you. He might not be on some faraway battlefield where bullets fly past, but this is no less risky. The picture he showed you, the file on König, haunted your restless sleep last night – when you finally did get some sleep.

You have been running around like everything’s normal when it’s not. The man’s just trying to do his job.

And you're the one who hired him. Not your lawyer.

"I want to make peace," you coo while spreading some jam on toast. You expect Simon to finally melt a little. You might even get a smile. You secretly hope your reward is that this brute turns into a tamed lap dog you can feed some treats every now and then.

The situation is thrilling: the beefiest man you have ever seen is going to kill someone for you. Even if he's being paid to do so, he is prepared to die for you. There's something incredibly sexy about that.

But there is silence at the other end of the table. Only the crunchy sounds of toast getting sugar on top can be heard.

"That so?"

He doesn't sound like he's melting. He doesn't sound at all domesticated. He only sounds more and more amused.

"Yes. I'm happy that you're here," you put the toast down and turn to look at him with angel eyes.

He laughs. When he stops, he looks you up and down, then laughs some more, a silent, shoulder-shaking chuckle.

"I'm… I'm serious," you hurry to add. "I mean it. I haven't been treating you the way I should–"

"That's for sure."

You see more warmth in those eyes. But it's not because of your humble apology.

His eyes are trekking down the neckline of your blouse, and to your horror, you notice – feel – how one of the top buttons has opened, revealing much more than just some skin. You're pretty sure he gets an ample view of the fuchsia bra you're wearing underneath.

If you reach for that button now, you underline that he's not supposed to look, even if it's your mistake that you're so obscenely exposed. If you close it now, you tell him he's not allowed to look. And that's not entirely true.

"Will you forgive me?"

You feel like you're offering peace, or at least a truce, with more than just that peepy question. Because your breasts swell inside that blouse. They rise and fall with your breaths, your nipples grow hard from that look that stays down a bit longer before drifting back up.

"There's nothing to forgive," he says, voice dropping a note or two.

"Good," you swallow. The following sentence comes out so weakly that it's almost a whisper. "After all, I hired you."

"Ain't that the truth."

The dim glint in those eyes still holds you as a prisoner, and his tea is growing cold.

"Are we going shopping today?"

"No," you utter, dreading the next inevitable question.

"What then?"

"I… I have a yoga class."

"Of course you do."

…......…......

Taglist: @cumikering

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod fanfic #mw2 fanfic #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x female reader #ghost x female reader #bodyguard au #bodyguard!Ghost

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sailorrhansol · 19 days

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You. Always. | ksy (m)

❀ Pairing: Soonyoung x f. Reader

❀ Summary: Soonyoung isn’t a jealous guy - he’s not. But sometimes it gets to him, the way other people look at you and fall a little in love with you. Don’t they know you have him?

❀ Word Count: 5055

❀ Genre: Established Relationship, pwp

❀ Type: Smut, a little fluff

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Almost jealous Soonyoung, a little hint of insecurity but nothing crazy, recreational drinking, Mingyu and Wonwoo lowkey being a little annoying and drunk, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, pet names like baby and good boy, reader on top, spit and other bodily fluids, not explicit dom/sub dynamics but Soonyoung is very soft in this and reader is guiding him in parts, biting, both reader and Soonyoung are a little dazed and kinda spacy but it’s not explicitly subspace or described in the same way.

❀ A/N: This is straight up from a dream I had, no joke. Woke up and was like I just had the weirdest dream about Soonyoung but it was in the Bahamas and a cruise ship was involved at some point but this is almost scene for scene from my dream. I feel blessed.

❀ A/N 2: This was written entirely for @daechwitatamic and also thank you Jo for beta reading because I don’t know how to edit anything ever I’m baby

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀

“Try this one,” Mingyu insists, laughing. He shoves a drink in your hand, all smiles and glittering eyes. You take the cup from him, the music of the club pulsing around you. A soft buzz ripples through you, a little drunk from the long day out in the sun followed by drinks at sunset, dinner and the afterparty. “It’s soooo good.”

You trust Mingyu’s judgment - about drinks, anyway. Wonwoo cheers for you, clapping to the beat of the music as you bring the cup to your lips and knock it back. The soda mixed in the drink bubbles in the back of your throat but the taste of something strong burns and you cough, pulling the cup from your mouth with a grimace and squinted eyes.

Both of them begin laughing hysterically, throwing back their hands and clapping their hands. You laugh too, setting the cup down as you try and clear your throat from the liquid fire, tongue stuck out as you reach for a sweating glass of water.

Wonwoo orders more drinks as you suck down water, freeing your mouth of the bitter taste of whatever it is they gave you. You turn on the stool, looking around the beachside club for Soonyoung. You catch him on the far side leaning against a wall, waiting for the bathroom. Sensing your gaze, he cranes his neck to look toward you, eyes pinning you to the spot immediately.

Even from across the room, his gaze makes your stomach flip. You grin shyly, waving your hand a little. His lips twitch but his gaze shifts toward Mingyu and Wonwoo. His mouth tilts down a little before the bathroom door opens and he turns away entirely, vanishing down the hall.

A server appears with a round of clear shots, setting them down on the table. Mingyu leans forward, picking one up with the intention of handing it to you, but you wave him off. “I’ll wait for Soonyoung.”

Mingyu cranes his head. “Yeah, where the fuck did he go? I kind of forgot he was here.”

It isn’t Mingyu’s fault - he hasn’t known you for very long. Soonyoung has a habit of making friends anywhere the two of you go on vacation, though, and through the last week, you’ve managed to make Wonwoo and Mingyu regular friends while enjoying the summer off the coast of Greece. It had started with a volleyball game and now it has escalated to lunches, dinners and nightly escapades.

Ever the talker - much like your boyfriend - Mingyu turns to the table next to yours and strikes up a conversation with the group of people there. Within a few minutes, he’s pulling their table to yours and shouting their names at you. You shake unfamiliar hands and grin, just happy to feel the balmy air on your skin and feel the heat of summer.

Another round of drinks appears in clear, plastic cups, obeying the no glass on the beach rule. The beach club is lowkey and tucked away into the side of the mountain at the very end of the beach, requiring a trek through the sand to get there.

The area is open to the elements with wooden pavilions housing a few tables and benches. In the middle of the club is a long, illuminated shallow pool with tables for guests who are willing to take off their shoes and wade through the cool water to get there.

You look down at the red drink in your hand, raising a brow as you watch everyone else throw the drink back, chugging as quickly as they can. When they put their cups down and realize you haven’t had yours, they immediately start yelling at you, Mingyu grabbing your forearm to shake you back and forth as he pouts and yells at you to chug.

“I’m gonna get too drunk,” you whine, holding onto the cup and trying not to spill the liquid as Mingyu complains. He pouts and gives you puppy eyes, clasping his hands together as he begs. Wonwoo and your new friends immediately join him, all of them peering up at you.

“Please,” Wonwoo pleads from across the table, clasped hands tucked under his chin. “Please please please please.”

Before you can tip the cup back, it’s being pulled upward and out of your grip. You look up in surprise, mouth falling open as Soonyoung frees it from your grasp and tilts the cup to his lips. You watch as he drains it, head tilted back to expose the tan softness of his throat. Some of the red spills over the side, running down his chin and throat.

You watch the beads of liquid, suddenly unable to focus on anything else but the way he looks in that moment. When you blink, Soonyoung’s head is no longer tilted as he leans forward to place the empty cup on the table. He doesn’t bother to wipe the red on his neck and you instinctively grab napkins as he throws himself in the booth across from you.

He notices you holding them out and he takes them wordlessly, his energy shifted suddenly as he wipes the sticky red from his skin. If your new friends notice, they don’t say anything, cheering for him and then ordering more drinks as they shout over the music.

When he left to use the restroom, your boyfriend had been in high spirits and a rowdy mood. Now, he’s subdued, eyes flickering between Wonwoo and Mingyu, a little darker than before. You frown, finishing the rest of your water as you drink in Soonyoung’s posture: slouched, mouth pouted, eyes narrowed.

Mingyu asks if you want another drink and you watch as Soonyoung’s mouth turns down. Ah. You decline and immediately Mingyu makes Soonyoung the same offer, but he shakes his head, suddenly interested in his phone. You think Mingyu notices this time that one of your party is clearly no longer in the drinking mood and disengages, turning easily to the others.

You nudge Soonyoung’s foot under the table. He looks up at you, a little dejected and shrugs his shoulders as if to say what? You nod your head toward the exit, raising your brows. He follows your meaning and pauses for a moment, as though he’s torn between ending the night far earlier than usual or trying to endure his mood.

Eventually, he nods, turning off his phone and shoving it in his pocket. You stand and announce that you’re feeling a little tired, but thank your friends for the drinks. They all immediately complain, begging you to stay for at least one more round.

“It’s always one more round with you all,” you shoot back. “We can catch up another day. I’m tired and honestly I really just want to lay in bed with my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu huffs, waving you off. “Do whatever it is couples do on vacation.”

Without a word, you hold your hand out to Soonyoung to leave. He stares at it for a moment before his mouth twitches upward and he takes it, lacing his fingers with yours. You give him a gentle squeeze as you lead toward the exit of the club, waving to the manager who is used to your group’s presence by now.

Outside, the world is only lit by the moon. It sits high up in the sky, turning the world a dark blue as you and Soonyoung walk the beach. The quiet tension follows him outside of the club and down a few meters. You wait for him to say something, peeking at him from the corner of your eye.

In the years you’ve been dating, you’ve learned to read him pretty well. You know something about your interaction with Mingyu and Wonwoo bothers him, but you’re unsure of the specifics. Soonyoung isn’t a jealous boyfriend, but every once in a while there is something that bothers him. An old wound that peels open at the edge and stings him.

You tug on his hand. He’s surprised, stumbling a little as you yank him off balance and into you. His cologne is laced with his own natural scent, making your head spin as your chests press together and you bring a hand up to his face, stroking a strand of dark hair out of his eyes.

Soonyoung is beautiful. You’ve always thought so. Eyes that can go from intense to gentle, a round face that is somehow also sharp, a cute mouth prone to laughing. You’ve traced the lines of his face over and over again and still, every time you’re this close to him, you feel your heart skip a beat.

“You’re not jealous, right?”

He shakes his head imperceptibly. He looks down at you, bottom lip jutting out a bit. You fight a smile, trying to focus on making sure he’s okay instead of the way his face has melted from contemplative to pouting.

“You can tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable, you know that right?”

He nods in tiny. His hands hang at his sides, like he’s hesitant to touch you. To do anything. You take his face in both of your hands, cocking your head to the side as you study him. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s bothering you?”

“I’m not jealous,” he starts and stops. You wait for him to continue. You’ve always been better at putting your thoughts to words than he has, and you know he just needs the time to organize them. “And you never do things that make me jealous. I just…”

Ocean water surges behind you, the gentle push and pull of the swells the only sound as Soonyoung strings his thoughts together. You continue to cradle his face in your hands, thumb stroking back and forth on his cheek. You feel him lean into your touch, going a little weak under your attention.

“I just know how easy it is to love you,” he finally says. He chews his bottom lip a little and you catch it with your thumb, keeping him from breaking the skin. “You are beautiful and charming, and I can always tell when other people realize it too. It isn’t that… I think you’d like them back or anything. I just feel possessive and then silly for feeling that way.”

“It isn’t silly.”

“It isn’t?”

You shake your head and his voice gets small and soft. “I don’t want it to seem insecure or annoying, and I don’t know why I suddenly felt that way. I usually don't.”

“It’s not silly,” you assure him again. “It’s okay to feel that way sometimes. You’re a human being and you’re allowed to feel things, even if you don’t necessarily know why or how you feel them.”

“I’m sorry I made us leave early.”

“You didn’t make us do anything, and there is nothing to apologize for. I like going home and just spending time with you. I came here with you. We can make vacation friends all we want, but I have the most fun when you’re involved.”

His mouth twitches in a smile and he nods a little, affirmed by your words. “Can we go home?”

“Mhmm.”

You lean up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his mouth. Immediately he wants more, chasing your lips but you skip away from him, tugging him along by his hand. He frowns, a little put out. You try not to giggle, feeling your stomach flip a little.

Soonyoung is so rare like this. He loves being soft, but this is something even gentler. Something delicate and wonderful and endearing. You can’t help but keep him trailing after you, feeling the way his eyes linger on you. Hungry. Wanting. Needing.

You keep him waiting.

Catching a taxi up the mountain to the house you’re staying at is easy. The driver rolls the window down, letting the salty air drift in as he goes up and up. You lean against Soonyoung’s shoulder, putting your entwined hands in your lap. He melts into you, head atop yours and eyes fluttering shut as the breeze lifts his hair.

You love him like this. He looks so young, so capable of love. It’s your favorite thing about him, his ability to love freely, deeply and often. There is so much affection and kindness in him, a well so deep that you have yet to hit the bottom.

Soonyoung is a little drowsy when the taxi pulls up to the village square. He rouses with a mumbled thank you and clambours out the car behind you, eager to follow your lead up the winding steps that lead through the village houses.

It’s mostly quiet, with the echoes of voices drifting up from open windows and patios, the din of voices from restaurants in the main square hanging on the wind. You manage not to get lost this time as you navigate the winding pathways to the correct house, the blue fence blending in with the dozen other blue fences.

The cicadas are quiet as you walk down the steps to the front of the home. You tap Soonyoung’s pockets and he blushes, forgetting he has the keys. He’s quick to produce them and pass them over, watching you expectantly as you unlock it and step into the darkness.

Cool air drifts in from the open windows. There’s no air conditioning in the rented house, but the ocean wind that comes in at night through open shutters is enough to cool you off.

Soonyoung is quiet. He follows your lead up the stairs to the second floor where the bedroom is, lingering in the doorway when you drop his hand and turn to face him as you walk backward into the room. He’s hypnotized as you unbutton the top of your shirt slowly, staring at him.

The way he looks at you ignites a fire inside of you. No one else could look at you like this, equal parts reverence and hunger. No one else could make your hands shake as you stare at him staring at you, his lips parted a little, tongue darting out to wet them as he swallows.

Your blouse falls open and you shuck it off, letting it hit the floor. Moonlight paints your side profile. Soonyoung doesn’t dare move from the door until you hold out a hand, palm upward. “Come here,” you whisper. He obeys immediately, nearly tripping over his feet to get to you.

His hands go around your waist, warm against your skin. You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him in close, fingers threading in his hair and pulling a little. He lets out a soft sound as you tilt his face toward yours, forcing him to meet your eyes. His pupils are blown and you can feel his heart thundering against yours.

“You know I love you more than anything else, right?” For a second, he just stares at you, eyes fixated on your mouth. You pull his hair a little more and he sucks in a sharp breath before nodding a little. He seems too dazed to do more than the barest acknowledgement. “Do you want me to show you?”

You lean up to brush your nose against his. Soonyoung’s eyes fall shut and you feel a shiver go through him. His breath is unsteady when you brush your mouth against his in an almost kiss. “Do you want me to show you how much I love you, Soonyoung?”

He nods again, unable to find words. Your nails scratch at his scalp gently and he lets out a breathy moan, melting in your hands. “Okay,” you whisper, pressty a soft kiss to his mouth. He tries to chase your lips again but you step back and tug at him. “Come lay down.”

Soonyoung obeys. He’s always been a good boy, but having him like this isn’t common. You like to think that you’re both equal parts in charge in the bedroom, flowing with whatever the other needs. Having him like this, sitting down on the bed and looking up at you like you cradle his world in your hands though… it lights you up.

“Lay back for me,” you instruct gently. He does immediately, bouncing a little on the mattress. You climb onto the mattress, knees on either side of his waist as you crawl up toward him, settling your weight on his hips. Immediately his hands reach toward your hips and stop, hovering as he gets stuck between doing what he wants and waiting for you to tell him. “Go ahead,” you whisper, leaning toward him. “Take whatever you want. You can have whatever.”

Warm hands grip your waist. Your fingers expertly undo the buttons of his shirt and you make sure to brush them against his stomach as you move upward. You feel the muscles jump and he lets out another breathy sound. His hands just remain on your sides, not ready to explore more as he fixates on the way you pull his shirt off of his shoulders.

He’s a little clumsy when he leans up to help you shuck it off. You don’t care, surging forward to capture his mouth in a full kiss as he does. He forgets all about taking the shirt off, sleeves halfway down his arms as he leans forward to lick into your mouth, hungry and desperate for whatever you’ll give him.

You don’t hold back, letting him consume you. His mouth is warm and wet, tasting faintly of cherry from one of the drinks he had earlier. You love it, humming delightly as your hands brush from his shoulders to where his shirt is stuck near the elbows. You tug but the material is restricted, making you break away from the kiss with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, letting your hips go to take the shirt all the way off.

Immediately your hands seek the heat of his skin, brushing from his shoulders to his chest and down his stomach and back up, fingers loving every groove and plane. He shivers under your touch, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper, pushing him back gently so that he’s laying down again. He lets you trace him, though you can feel his hips twitch under you, turned on by your exploration. “So pretty, Soonyoung. Do you know that?”

Again, he gives the tiniest nod. You smile and lean forward, holding yourself up by planting a hand on either side of his head. You catch his mouth again and he lifts his head up, eager to taste you. A hum of appreciation escapes you as you kiss him slowly, pressing your hips down into his.

Soonyoung moans and it’s so delicate that it makes you dizzy. You feel fucked out from this version of him already, the room spinning as you rut gently into him. You grab his hands that rest on your ass and pull them up your sides to your bra, a command.

He understands immediately, pulling at the clasps to undo the back. You break the kiss again, mouth feeling bruised, to lean up and toss the garment. His hands find your chest immediately and you feel goosebumps burst on your skin at his touch, large hand squeezing.

You let him rub his thumb over your pert nipples, spiking the pleasure in your stomach. You let out a light sound and shiver in his hands, ducking back down to press your mouth to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin - anywhere you can kiss.

His skin is salty and sweet, your tongue darting out to soothe his flesh after a sharp bite. He’s putty beneath you, completely at your mercy as your mouth maps out the way you love him. Every kiss, bite and lick is another declaration: I love you. I love you. I love you.

Light moans drip from his lips as you pepper him with kisses. Dragging your teeth across his chest lightly, you watch as he shivers and squeezes his eyes shut. Grinning, you move your mouth over his nipple, tongue flicking out lightly. A sharp hiss escapes through his gritted teeth, his head digging backward into the bed as he arches under you.

“Fuck,” he gasps.

A hum escapes you as you close your mouth over his nipple, sucking gently. He’s so sensitive, whining and squeezing your sides. You trail your mouth across his chest, leaving a wet trail as you do before dragging your teeth across his other nipple.

“Pretty,” you mumble again, moving your mouth lower. You teeth at his skin as you go, feeling him twitch beneath you. His hands drop to the sheet, twisting them in a vice grip as he lets you scoot down his lap until you’re off the bed and on the carpet, undoing his pants as you go.

Getting him out of his pants is hard - Soonyoung is loose-limbed and clumsy, hands shaking as he helps you pull the fabric down followed by his briefs. You let out an appreciative moan when you take his cock in your hand, heavy, warm and leaking at the tip.

He can barely keep it together when you stroke him, hand firm, thumb brushing over the sticky tip. You watch every reaction, eyes focused on the flush in his cheeks, the way he chews on his bottom lip to try and keep from whimpering, the way his fingers twist in the blankets.

“So perfect,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his inner thighs as you continue to work him with your hand. His hips twitch upward and you let him, continuing to run your tongue along his thigh. “You’re the perfect boyfriend.”

“Hnnn,” is the mumbled answer.

Leaning up high on your knees, you tilt his cock toward your mouth, licking leisurely around the tip. He keens and you smirk, feeling your cunt clench as you take him in your mouth properly, spurred on by the way he falls apart instantly.

This is another thing you love. It doesn’t matter the dynamic, Soonyoung always crumbles at your touch - craves it, needs it, wants it more than anything. It’s hard not to feel like a god as you hear him pant your name, watch the way the breath catches in his throat as you take him deep into your throat, the flat of your tongue scraping the underside of his cock as you go.

You’re not clean with it. You let spit drip out the corner of your mouth, let yourself gag a little. Work what you can’t fit past your lips with the rest of your hand, getting carried away. His hand shoots to your head - he doesn’t push or pull, just leaves it there, like it can ground him.

Pulling off with a loud pop, you give his shaft a squeeze, kissing the inside of his thigh again. A mix of cum and spit shine in the moonlight when you pull your mouth away.

“I love seeing you like this,” you rasp. “Love watching you fall apart.”

“Please,” he gasps, managing to lift his head up and look down at you. His hair is damp with sweat and his eyes are fucked out, gaze unfocused. “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.”

“I’ve got you.” You give a single, long lick up his shaft for good measure, feeling him tremble before you stand up to take your pants off. He makes a pitiful sound, hand shooting toward you, hating being away from you. “One second, baby. Sorry.”

“S’okay.”

Naked, you crawl up the bed again. His hands shoot to your thighs, kneading the flesh and rubbing his palms up and down, warming you up. You feel the wetness drip down your thighs, worked up from working him up. From the way he moans when you press your pussy to his cock, you know he can feel it.

“All good?” you ask gently, pressing your forehead against his. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on his brow. You hold yourself over him with one hand and bring the other up to brush the hair off his forehead. “Too much?”

He shakes his head. “No, just. Sensitive.”

“Mhmm. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”He nods in tiny, opening his eyes to look up at you like you’re the sun, the moon, and all of his stars. “Good boy,” you breathe and he moans, hips canting upward to rub his cock against your folds. “I love you.”

He nods again, eager and desperate. “Love you.”

Sitting up on your knees, you reach a hand under you, gripping him firmly. Soonyoung opens his eyes, making sure to watch your every move with swollen, parted lips and half-lidded eyes. You feel drunk from the way he looks at you, as hypnotized by him as he is of you.

You press the tip of his cock against your entrance, both of you groaning. Carefully, you sink down on him, your breath getting stuck in your throat. The stretch punches the breath from your lungs but it’s good, the ache replaced with something stronger, better. He fills up every part of you - you feel him deep in your stomach as you fully seat yourself on him, ass pressed to his pelvis as you fight for air.

“Fuck, Soonyoung,” you mutter, falling forward to plant a hand on his chest. You lean your weight forward, pushing him into the mattress and holding yourself up. You can feel his thundering heart under your palm, beat matching your own pounding pulse. “Feel so good.”

“Wanna be. Wanna be for you.”

“You are. You always are. I could never want anything else, you know that right?” A tiny, barely there nod. “You make me feel so good. Always do.”

“Please.”

You know what he’s asking. You give it to him, slowly lifting yourself until you’ve almost pulled off him entirely. You drop back down hard, knocking the breath from your lungs as you spear yourself on him. It is intoxicatingly good, pleasure rippling outward like a stone dropped in a lake. You chase the feel, repeating the motion until you’re nearly mindless and out of breath.

“Shit,” you swear, laughing a little as your head drops down. You can’t focus on anything but rolling your hips, fucking yourself onto him as his hands grab your ass, not controlling you but gripping fiercely. “God damn fuck.”

Soonyoung laughs, deep and gravely as the cockiness you’re used to bleeds back in for a moment. “Yeah?”

You clench your cunt as you sink down on him, making him let out a high-pitched noise at the move and you grin. “Yeah,” you shoot back. “Thought so.”

A knot twists in your stomach as you set a smooth pace, thighs burning. Pleasure ribbons through you, twisting and turning, his hands dimpling your flesh. He lets you keep your pace at first, taking everything you give him, his feet planted flat on the mattress as he tries to contain himself, curses escaping between clenched teeth.

Your legs tremble. Your nails dig into the hard muscle of his chest. He senses your movements get a little strained, the pleasure making it harder to focus on lifting yourself. You feel his grip on your ass change, Soonyoung putting power behind it to help lift you up and pull you back down. He thrusts up to meet you, the wet squelch of his harder thrusts intoxicating.

“Fuck yeah,” you gasp, giving up the pretense of riding him and letting him take over. “Fuck me just like that.”

It’s all he needs before his grip turns iron and he’s fucking up into you with abandon. Your hand slips on his chest as the power of his thrusts knock you off balance. You let yourself crash together, chest against chest. Soonyoung wraps his arms around your back, holding you to him.

Your mouth finds his neck, burying your face in there as you try to steady your breathing. It feels like your heart might explode, his name falling from your lips as you press them against his neck. He mumbles something unintelligible, pace picking up.

“Shit,” you pant. “Shit shit shit shit - Soonyoung - shit.”

He huffs, something like laughter before his pace is brutal. He fucks you fast and deep, your mind blanking as you crest upward. All you can do is hold on to him, mouth panting against his throat, your muscles squeeze squeeze squeezing until you’re coming hard.

Everything goes blank. Your ears ring and you’re vaguely aware of his wild thrusts as he chases his orgasm. You melt in his grip, letting him use you, completely boneless.

Soonyoung growls your name as he comes, pace slowing as he fucks you deep until he stills. You feel the stickiness between you and the way he’s still shaking. You rise and fall with his heavy breathing, both of your heartbeats erratic and thoughts staticky.

You lay there like that for a while, a pile of exhausted limbs and few thoughts. His arms loosen their grip around you and he starts rubbing his hands up and down your back. It draws you back into the moment more and you open your eyes to look up at him.

Soonyoung’s eyes are closed and his breathing is deep. You can tell he isn’t asleep, but rather enjoying the moment, his face tilted toward the window where the moon floats over the mountains. He looks so pretty like this, face soft and serene.

“You’re staring at me,” he murmurs, his voice low and spent. “You could at least tell me I’m pretty.”

“I just did. Several times.”

His mouth tilts upward but he doesn’t open his eyes. “I like hearing it.”

“Fine. You’re the prettiest boy.”

“Hmm. Yeah?”

“Yes. And I love you.”

“Say it again.” Soonyoung opens his eyes and they meet yours. They’re clearer now, and crinkled at the sides when he gives you a smile that feels far too innocent for the fluids running down your thighs and the way your cunt still clenches around him. “I like when you say it.”

“I love you.”

He smirks. “Just me?”

You lean up and nip his neck. He giggles, leaning away from you. “You. Always.”

He sighs. “Me,” he agrees. “Always.”

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eupheme · 25 days

Text

— clean slate [into the fire, part v]

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, sex for favors, sub/dom elements, canon-typical descriptive violence and death, references to blood/gore, anti-ghoul sentiments, physical violence against reader, hurt/comfort, kissing

a/n: please mind the tags! this chapter got twice as long as the others (maybe I didn't want it to end, haha!) and there was a good break, so to keep things consistent, I am splitting it in half! both are being posted today though, so you don't have to wait 💖

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game. But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

(or - they took something from the Ghoul, and he’s here to collect)

The afternoon edges into night, and he tells himself each hour is the last one he'll think about you.

The Ghoul had waited for you to look back. Stock-still in the swirling dust that bit at his skin. A white-knuckled grip around the thick coil of rope.

You hadn’t.

His hand still reaches to scrubs at his neck, his jaw. To wipe you away or rub you in, he’s not sure.

It doesn't fucking matter.

He's stuck around a long time. Enough to see generations of families grow old and then die. The last few weeks are no more than a blip, in his far too-long life.

Hell - he's spent more time underground, than with you.

But something prickles at him. Lingering like a bad trip, leaving his teeth clenching and jaw aching as he finishes out the bounty.

It's messy.

It shouldn't have been. Should have been easy - but he's aching for a fight, something to take his mind off things. He's antagonistic.

Could've finished everything up from afar, but he ends up in close range. Another scar marring his chest, new splatters streaked across his dark coat.

It aches, a deep bruise as it heals.

Still only slightly dulling the itch of irritation.

I haven't lied about anything.

Didn’t last night mean anything to you?

It's sometime the next morning, after a night of a starless sky closing in around him, that he gives in.

Heading the way you went without thought, and when he does notice, he tells himself it's only because he needs more chems. That it’d be a shame to lose a supplier as good as you.

That it's easier, for both of you to stick together.

Maybe that's why he was careless. Knowing deep down, it would be easier to find a corpse later than to haul around a bounty, kicking and screaming.

The small sliver left of another man, from another life, knows he was cruel. That anger had turned him into a viper. Had always been good at striking first. Self-preservation beaten into him after two-hundred years - an old, festering wound.

He doesn’t know how to apologize anymore, but he can already think of a few ways to distract you.

Maybe you’ll forget completely, if he's thorough.

The Ghoul is faster than you are. Needs less rest, less food. Has already plotted just how far you can get in a day. Your footprints faded as packed earth leads to woods, but you’re not the type to wander, and there's only a few settlements in the miles ahead.

Halfway to his destination, when his eyes snag on a patch of rocks. A broken bits of branches on the trees just before it. There's something smeared across the stone - tasting like iron, when the tip of a finger brings it to his tongue.

Something ancient twists in his stomach, awakening from a slumber.

Backing up, he's able to piece together the struggle. Seeing the flattened grass, the heavy boot prints, melding with the smaller ones.

Finding a body, fallen off to the side - angling off the rock with the stain. Something familiar about the look of him.

A boot sinks into their side, rolling them over. A curl of a lip - he recognizes them. One of the two bounty hunters they’d fun into.

He had hated their eyes on you when they blew through that town.

Something had prickled at him then, but he had ignored it. A grit of his jaw - should’ve dealt with both of them.

There’s a hole in their head - red spilling down their neck, still tacky to the touch. A clean, close shot. His finger sinks in the wound, the same size as your 10mm.

"Good girl." The Ghoul murmurs.

The slightest ease of the knot in his chest.

A crunch of glass beneath his feet, the glint of the sun catching the needle. Another shape he knows well - a syringe. Probably a tranquilizer.

Three meeting one, with three leaving. The dead weight of you weighing down their steps, the footprints pressing heavily into the earth.

Easy enough for him to follow, as he slings his gun free.

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game.

But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

Despite being back among faces you knew, fear had been your only companion since the meeting in the forest.

Hazy memories flicker through your mind. Being dragged, snippets of light and the heat of a fire. The bright sear of dawn, and the dry embrace of the desert again.

Waking to the feeling of your arms being wrenched above your head. Coming to, hissing and spitting. Nails catching the face of one of them - Baine, you think - his fist cracking down hard against your cheek in retaliation.

Leaving you dazed, as your wrists were caught again - bound in place. A cruel curl of a lip, as they examined you like a brahmin.

“You look like a Wastelander”. It’s spit out, a wet mark against the floor, “We’ll get you back where you belong soon enough.”

You’re not sure how much time has passed. A day, maybe. Hunger gnaws at you - only a small sliver of comfort in the dried meat and fruit tossed your way.

Axton, the head of the Reclaimers - those who were tasked with bringing people back - had grown up with you. At one time, was perhaps even more than that. A distant relation of the current Overseers, his blood too thinned out to be of use - but even he won’t look you in the eye.

You both know how this will go, when you get back home.

Hope drains from you, with each hour. Eating away at the little flicker of hope in your chest, wrapped tightly around your heart.

Maybe he’d show.

But despair clouded your thoughts, soon after.

“You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”

“You're a goddamn fool if you think I hadn’t been planning on turnin' you in the first chance I get."

Maybe he’d been truthful all along, and you hadn’t listened. Read into all those small moments, weaving them together until they had made something tangible.

The looks, stolen breaths and almost-careful touches. All fleeting, but you had caught them. Holding them close to your heart.

But life isn’t like the holotapes you grew up, back when everything felt safe.

There aren’t cowboys anymore. No heroes on horses - with their silver spurs and a shining, golden badge.

No one was coming for you.

The footprints die out, as the bleached trees grow thin.

Tall grass to packed dirt, dried by the sun. Rolling hills and then mountains, scraping against the horizon. The dipping sun casts him in a red light that bleeds to black at his ankles, his shadow stretching back long and lean behind him.

But these roads aren't wholly unknown to him.

Spent time blowing through Junktown and The Hub, a couple dozen miles away. The memory hazy, but there weren't too many places folk could stay, once the sun went down and everything wild and unruly came crawling out.

A feeling in his gut has him stopping two miles down the road. A half-dug quarry, long abandoned even before the world went to hell. Threadbare railings and platforms held together with spit and a prayer, framing the rusted building that cuts into the stone walls.

The tip of his boot taps a loose rock, sending it off the edge. Head cocked as he thinks, until he hears the faintest clatter a hundred feet below.

Two-hundred years ago, he had stood on a ledge much like this. Valley of the Gun. The final shootout had his guns lost in the dust. Fist-fighting with the leader of the gang, until they both near tumbled off the edge together.

Honorable, in the way he had caught the man's hand. Tried to haul him up, but had to let go when a knife was pulled - keeping him the hero. A satisfying death that wasn't his fault, a way to keep his conscience.

All movie tricks. Angles and the implication of falling, as the camera focused on his face that swam with regret.

Comin' after a girl then, too.

Thinks that's why the old memory has loosened in his mind.

Funny how things can change, but the bones remain. How he's still drawn back to life he's left far behind. Even if his conscience was buried, a long time ago.

Some things linger. He could go down. Take one of those ladders, work his way through the tunnels that are sure to wind through the limestone, and up through the back.

But he's never much liked being underground.

Another second of considering, before he's heading for the front door.

He used to like a script, but that was back in the day when the worst thing that could happen was a box-office bomb, not the hell he's been dragged through.

A half-cocked plan already forming. Twisting that connection between them, his own abandoned contract. Get him through the front door and to the man in charge at least, and that might be all he needs. Let years of instinct take over, after that.

Had already gotten a good look at a couple of them, when he first picked up the bounty. It had made him curious - why there was so much fuss, over so small a thing. Easy caps, he decided, when he had gotten a look at you.

Picking up that their brutality had been learned from sharpening their teeth against a silver spoon. Hardy - compared to some Wastelanders - with their filling meals and their pristine weapons.

But they sure as hell don't have the same grit as one.

Not much of anything, really, when compared to him.

The door opens with the push of his shoulder. Hand beneath the swirl of his coat, finger already fixed on the trigger. Not far in until he’s running into one of them - another Vaultie.

The man startles, wide-eyed when he sees him. Green, in his shades of blue and yellow.

“Here ‘bout a job.” The Ghoul keeps his voice light, in spite of everything.

Knows they’re keeping you alive for someone else, as much as that makes his jaw clench. No need to go rushing in just yet.

A flicker of recognition, as the man frowns, “How’d you find us?”

His head tilts, that smooth drawl slipping in, “Wouldn’t be much of a Bounty Hunter if I couldn’t, now, would I?”

The Vault Dweller’s eyes are fixed on his face, that familiar look of fear and disgust - dipping down to the pocket of his nose, the curling smile of yellowed teeth.

It’s strange how foreign it feels, after the hours spent with you looking at him so differently.

Maybe he’d been a fool, after all.

Maybe it’s more than your tight cunt that he wants to bury himself in, to claim. Something soft, bitten back behind his teeth. Something he doesn’t even know if he has a name for, anymore.

Something he didn’t know he needed , until he had chased both it and you away.

“We’ve already got her.” The man manages, after thinking it over, “Don’t think we need your services anymore.”

There’s another flash of teeth at the confirmation.

“Agreement was to find her. And who do you think rustled her up?” His brow lifts, “Would’ve been half-way to New Reno by now, if I hadn’t herded her your way.”

That sharp edge creeping in, “Think my time’s worth a little somethin ’. Don’t you?”

It’s easy for the guard to leave that decision to someone else. Standing aside, to let him pass.

“Thank you kindly.” The Ghoul tips his hat, a swirl of his coat as he passes.

Taking just enough steps past them, waiting until the man’s back turns. Spinning on his heel, after.

The knife glints between his fingers as he twirls it. A hand pressing over the Vault Dweller’s mouth, before the blade sinks into their neck.

Muffling the dying gurgle. A grunt as the Ghoul yanks the blade free - leaving the body crumpled in the shadows, as he winds deeper.

One down.

Hold on , he thinks.

I’m coming.

His whistle echoes in the chamber.

Half old-world - a long-forgotten leitmotif that fuses with new notes of his own. A part to play until he doesn't, letting the Ghoul guide him.

Down the half-lit hallway, the lights flickering overhead from the ancient generator. Everything picked clean like he figured it would be - every last piece of scrap ferreted away, leaving only dusty crates behind.

Still playing the part, as the low murmur of voices grows louder. Ears pricking up, listening for hers. Picking out at least three or four others from the layered hum.

A sneer, at the number. He’s faced worse odds. It’s in his favor really - take out as many fuckers as he can. Send bits and pieces of them back.

His intentions masked, an old habit, by the time he enters the warehouse. A wide steel grate floor, opening up to a second level below, scattered with old machinery.

There’s a table. Cards littering the top - a luxury brought from the Vault, as they bet using caps. Couple Vault Dwellers and that Wasteland son of a bitch from the town. Four total, one lounging on a sleeping pack as if it’s just another night, and they weren’t bringing you to your death.

It rankles him, teeth set on edge.

A scrape of chair legs on the floor, at the drawling condescension of his voice.

“Ain’t y’all a little old for a sleepover?”

Hands rest on holsters, but they don’t draw. The Ghoul focuses on one - a face he recognizes, the one who had sought him out.

The man’s legs spread, as if he’s got something worthwhile between them. The leader of this whole operation. Axton , or some shit like that - it hadn’t been worth his time to remember.

“Believe you fellas got somethin’ of mine.” The Ghoul drawls, “I’m here to collect.”

There’s a pause at that.

One of them, a right-hand man by the look of their padded leather armor - not a scratch on it - scowls. A face that tells another story. Pink marks start at their cheek, jagged lines that end at a thick neck.

His eyes narrow at that, lip curling. A flicker of unease in his belly - fingers clenching where they rest against his hips, close enough to draw.

“You’re too late for payment, ghoul. Heard you were dragging your feet.” His head tilts, towards the Wastelander who had gone still, “We went and got her ourselves.”

The Ghoul grins - a fierce thing, with a flash of teeth. A lilt, in his voice.

“Now, what makes you think I’m here for caps?”

It gives them pause. His question - the prospect of a ghoul showing up, unannounced.

“What else you here for?” Another grunts - eyes already back on his cards, a comfort in their numbers.

“Think you know.”

“The girl?” Atmos laughs, and the sound is cruel, “Heard she split from you. Caught her after.”

A tilt of his head towards the armored man and the Wastelander. Taunting then, “Must not be that good, if you let her slip away. What, she get tired of looking at your ugly mug?”

If they only knew the kind of things he’d done to you. What you had done to him, right back.

The Ghoul is only half-paying attention. Sticks and stones, all their insults falling on deaf ears. Too busy with eyes that flick over the top floor. Then down to the ground below.

Something flipping inside his guts, when he sees it. Cast in shadow near the base of the stairs, but his eyesight is keener than it’s ever been.

Arms bound, the knot looped around the hook of an overturned crane. A raw, split mark - swollen and bruised flesh - on the curve of a smooth cheek. Just above where your teeth cut into a piece of cloth, tied tightly around to gag you.

A tilt of your head, and then your eyes are meeting his. Round and blank with fear. Widening, when you see him.

His girl.

Muscles string tight, eyes narrowed as his teeth clench. You’d paid for what you did, and he’d be there to return the favor.

His gaze snaps back, and focuses. Whatever plan he had been working up burns, turning to ash.

“Always heard that beauty was in the eye of the beholder.” The Ghoul’s tone is conversational - although his blood boils, scalding hot, “But if you wanna see an ugly fucker , well… you best look right there.”

There’s a nod of his head, towards the man in charge. As if on cue, their heads twist to look - just as he draws, and then fires.

The Vault Dweller’s head caves in. Gore splattering against the blue of his suit. Barely a breath before his finger is tugging again, a bullet going through the chest of a second.

Always too goddamn slow.

Hesitant to take a life, even with their bravado.

Something that molted from his skin with the rest of him, over a century ago. He’s already reaching for the gun holstered at his shoulder before return shots are fired.

He can feel the flicker of something miss him, before he’s charging. Ducking under the swing of a knife, the muzzle pressed against ribs.

A hoarse shout that is drawn out by the ringing blast. The knife caught and sent spinning into the back of the Wastelander, heading towards the door.

Flinching, as something slams into his shoulder, just shy of his collarbone, and out the other side. The turn of a head - an eye fixed on the last man standing.

Padded armor won’t do much to stop him.

“That your handiwork?” The Ghoul growls, as his head tips towards you.

The man's finger twitches but he’s faster - a shot going into the meat of their thigh. Downing them as they scream, as the Ghoul saunters over to tug the hilt from where he’s buried it in the Wastlander’s back.

It glints a gleaming red in the light, as he adjusts his grip. Eyeing the scripted tattoos that cross over the man’s knuckles - as they grip at their thigh, near-tenderized from the blast.

Ones that had struck you. Could send them back, spelling out something obscene. A rough laugh at the thought.

He’s got someone waiting for him. But, he knows from experience…

That this won’t take too long.

In the hours since you parted, it’s only now that you can breathe.

For a long moment, you hadn’t dared believe. Eyes drawn to the noise above - the loud pitch of voices.

One of them - rough and low - draws your attention. Everything dark from your angle, an ache as you had tried to see.

Knowing that shadow. The brim of his hat.

The burn of his eyes, when they fixed on you. You could feel the fury in them, even from here. A muted sound of desperation from behind your gag, as you watched.

The Ghoul shoots first - the second his eyes pull away, and it’s all over in a matter of moments.

Your eyes closing at the sound of gunfire, of screaming - until it finally cuts short. Leaving the warehouse eerily silent, except for the clicking of spurs against metal.

He crouches in front of you, now - and you can’t help the whine. So much trapped behind the thick binding of cloth. All you could do is tug at your bound wrists - neck craning as you tried to watch from below.

A force of nature. Bared teeth a quick draw. Again you’re forced to admit to yourself how lucky you were to still be standing, after your first meeting.

He had blown through them like it was nothing.

“Hold on a minute, honey.” That low tone is familiar, calming you as his fingers hook around the cloth. Leaving a smear of red against your jaw as he tugs the gag free - shucking his gloves after.

“Are you hurt?” It comes out ragged. Tongue heavy in your mouth, throat dry. Eyes scanning the dark leather of his coat - all that red , smeared across it, “Thought you got hit.”

He barks out a laugh, your chin trapped between thumb and forefinger, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Something dark swirling across his features, as he tilts your head towards the light. His thumb pressing at the edge of your bruise, denting skin.

“They got you good, didn’t they?” He murmurs, and you smile through a wince, at the dull ache of pain.

“You got them.”

“Sure did,” It’s distracted, as he cuts at the binds, next. The rope fraying and then splitting, an ache in your shoulders when your arms finally lower.

“Fuckin’ amateurs.” He mutters again, watching as you wince at the rubbed-raw skin at your wrists. The corners of his lips tipped down, lost in thought.

“Thought you would’ve liked seeing me all tied up.” It’s a weak thing. An attempt at humor, the ache in your heart at seeing him cut by the acidity of your last meeting.

He blinks. Comes back to himself, a hoarse hum of amusement.

“Only when I’m doing it, sweetheart.” The Ghoul’s eyes meet yours then, a hint of a smirk with the tilt of his head.

“Can think of a much better way of gagging you, too.”

There’s almost a softness to his tone. Just barely there, tinting the rough edges. Something like hope flutters - delicate, behind your ribs.

“You… you came, for me.” You need the clarification. To hear him say it. That this isn’t some ruse, a way to take you directly to the source, “You’re not-”

There’s a sigh, as he fixes you with a long look. His head tipping towards the platform above, a lazy flick of his finger towards an arm that dangles from the ledge.

“Well that there man’s the one I got your contract from,” The Ghoul drawls, “Said I was to return what belonged to somebody else.”

Those eyes fixing on you again, “Seein’ as you’re not , and seein’ as that man is now indisposed…”

His words trail off - and you can’t help the small smile, as he finishes.

“I’m thinkin we’re square.”

The look you give him is soft. Admiring. You don’t know how he tracked you down, but he did.

“You saved me.” It’s hushed, and at your tone his eyes pull from you.

Fixing somewhere low, off to the side, as he crouches. Uncomfortable with the way you look at him. How you see him. Not used to it, not after so many years.

You’re not able to resist.

Muscles stringing stiff when you lean forward. Lips pressed against the leather of his cheek, fingers ghosting against his jaw.

A huff then, teeth biting into his tongue with the shake of a head. His eyes dark, as you pull back, hovering.

“Darlin’ if you’re going to be stealin’ a kiss, you best be doin’ it properly.” The Ghoul rasps, eyes flicking down to your mouth.

His head tips towards yours, but it’s your that meets his first. A little sound in your throat as your lips slot against his. Warm and insistent as his knees drop to press into the cement floor.

Tugging at you, as your fingers grasp at his collar. A hungry lick of his tongue against the seam of your lips as you whine, crushing your chest to his.

His fingers at your neck, your jaw. Angling your head, a rough groan as you part for him. Turning ravenous - wandering hands as your tongue slips against his. Panting breaths and a grinding of hips when he yanks you closer.

“How many were there?” He hums, as you try to sneak a ragged breath.

The curve of a smile when you try to ignore him, a click of his tongue.

“I dunno,” Your mind is too foggy. Too focused on the hands that trace against your waist, “Four? No… maybe five?”

“You don’t seem too sure, sweetheart.” He does smile then, at the little mark between your eyebrows. Untangling himself - a hand reaching down to adjust himself, as he stands.

“As much as I’d like to take you right here,” He husks, eyes dragging over you, “The last thing I need is a bullet in the ass.”

A tilt of his head, towards the open floor.

“Come on, cowpoke. Let’s do a sweep.”

the last (final, for real this time) part will be up in just a little bit! 💖 thank you so much for reading - this series has become so much to me, and every ask or comment or tag or reblog has absolutely meant the world 💕

#please mind the tags!#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #fallout tv series #fallout #cooper howard

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jujutsubaby · 4 months

Text

after hours (part 1)

☆ pairing: toji x afab!reader ☆ summary: toji, your objectively hot neighbor, needs a babysitter, and you need some cash. however, things are getting weird because he hasn't paid you in a week and rent is due... ☆ warnings: 18+. MINORS DNI. choking, oral sex (f!recieving), implied parent death, some public nudity, slight power dynamic ☆ tags: modernAU, babysittingAU ☆ a/n: lowkey wrote this with one hand if you catch my drift ꈍ .̮ ꈍ i'm thinking about doing more parts loosely based off of each other following y/n and a love triangle between gojo and toji. yes, they will be horny and yes i will *try* to have some plot let me LIVE okay (°◡°♡) let me know if that's something people are interested in :3 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

"megumiiii~", you sing lightly, "it's time for beeed". it's way past 9pm, and if toji finds out his son was 30 minutes past his bedtime, he'll never let you forget the next time you babysit. not that you have any issue babysitting for your extremely built, ripped, hot, dilf of a neighbor, that is.

megumi groans and tears start lining his little eyes. "but i don't wanna~" he cries out. "there's only 30 minutes left on this show...", he tries to beg. you pick up the candy wrappers you secretly gave megumi after dinner as a treat for eating his veggies.

"okay, first of all, i let you stay up way longer than i should have. second, there's no way in hell am i gonna let you stay up and watch...oh god. you're watching euphoria?!" you exclaim, eyes widening at the thought of megumi watching all the inappropriate content without you even realizing. you hope it's too late in the night and he's far too sleepy and tired to actually retain anything he just watched. you grab the tv remote and turn it off, and pick up megumi in your arms. "c'mon bubs, you've got school tomorrow, and your daddy will be home soon", you whisper softly in his ear.

megumi yawns and mumbles while slowly drifting off. "but i'm not even that sweepyy...". by the time you make it upstairs to his room, megumi is knocked out. you smile softly at him, before quitely closing the door and heading downstairs to the living room to clean up the mess megumi had made.

you look at the time again. 9:45...toji should be back soon, you think to yourself. you decide on reviewing some of your notes for a final next week while euphoria continues to play on the background. you've personally never watched the show, but your roommate, shoko, was obsessed with jacob elordi and loved euphoria, but there was far too much nudity in it for you.

as if right on cue, shoko shoots you a text.

shoko: pls tell me ur balls deep in toji rn babe me n utahime are bored as hell and we need something exciting this friday night 😭

you giggle. it was no secret between you and three that your next door neighbor was insanely hot. you guys always joke about sleeping with toji. you quickly type back:

y/n: stfu what if he was next to me and read this text huh? never gonna happen you know that 🙄

it’s not like you’re not not down for that. you just don’t want to be all over him like everyone else in the neighborhood. you and shoko have seen the way some of these girls did not know how to act on nextdoor whenever toji went on one of his shirtless runs or drove megumi to and from school.

it’s also not like you’re a total virgin either. you’ve had your fair share of ex-boyfriends in the past, but you won’t lie…it has been a while since you’ve been with someone. your thoughts are interrupted by a response from shoko.

shoko: riiiighttt, that's why you asked to borrow my shortest n sluttiest skirt to "babysit" tn 😏

you shake your head, scoffing at your cheeky roommate. you love her, but there's a final next week that isn't going to pass itself. muting the show and putting on your headphones, you get lost in your class notes, reviewing all the important key points and ideas before your final next week. you don’t even notice toji opening the door and his keys clanging on the table as he takes off his shoes and groans after a long day of…work? you’re not entirely sure what he does for a living but you never really bothered to ask. and it’s partially why you were feeling nervous to ask toji about your babysitting payment for the last week, as he hadn’t paid you at all for it. toji heads to the kitchen and opens a cold bottle of beer and saunters to the living room, only to be met with a pair of 4k hd bare titties on the 60 inch tv in his living room and you on the sofa.

toji clears his throat loudly. “whatcha watching, y/n?”, he says cheekily. you look up at toji, startled by his entrance, and you look at the tv, and squeal at what’s on display.

“oh my god, mr. fushiguro! i-i-i have no ideas w-what’s playing. ohmygodidon’tevenknowwhatshowisplaying-” you start rambling, looking around frantically for the remote to turn the tv off.

“relax, y/n-kun”, toji coos. “i’m not judging you. never known anyone to do their best studyin’ while there are a pair of tits on screen, but you always find a way to surprise me.” toji chuckles as you turn off the tv, and moves closer to you so he can sit across the sofa.

“stop teasing me, mr. fushiguro~”, you whine., crossing your arms and pouting. “you know i’d never-“

“c’mon y/n, how many times do i have to tell you to call me toji? i’m not that much older than you, you know that right?”, toji reminds you.

your pout slowly turns into a smile as you laugh slightly. “okay, whatever you say, boomer,” you tease. you and toji both laugh gingerly. you both stare at the blank tv screen, marinating in the comfortable silence you both were familiar with. toji was right when he said he wasn’t much older than you. he was, after all, your age when he had megumi and was somehow making ends meet as a single parent, although you would be lying if you said you hadn’t seen a few women here and there that toji brought home every so often. it was never the same girl more than once, but you definitely knew he had some game, whether you liked it or not. wait, do you not like that he brings girls over?

you shift uncomfortably on the couch as you recall the uncomfortable conversation you need to have with toji. he senses the change in your mood and how you body stiffened up instead of its usually relaxed posture. toji frowns. “hey, what’s on your mind, pumpkin?”

“umm…well, i hope you don’t mind me asking this but…well, i’ve got to pay my portion of rent soon. a-and i’ve noticed that i haven’t gotten paid for the last w-week yet. sorry, i know things are rough but…i was wondering…” you trail off, pleading inside that toji can fill in the blanks himself and can figure out what you’re asking.

toji shifts towards you and locks eyes with you. you don’t really know what you were expecting to see but it sure wasn’t him smirking. you swear you saw a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes as he inches closer and closer to you. almost instinctively, you clench your thighs together, trying really hard not to think about the effect locking eyes with toji has on you.

“aw, i’m sorry, pumpkin.” toji feigns sympathy to you. “you see, i was going to pay you last week. remember when you went to tuck megumi in after last thursday? i had an envelope with the cash i owed you, and i went to put it in your bag, when your laptop chimed with a new message.” your face immediately drops. this can’t be what you think it is. you’re not entirely sure what toji could’ve seen, but also, isn’t this a violation of your privacy? you hold your breath and gulp, daring not to let toji sense how nervous you are.

“oh god, y/n. i didn’t want to look but it’s hard to look away when there’s a message that says ‘so have you fucked your hot dilf neighbor yet?’ don’t tell me you were only babysitting for me because you wanted me?” toji asks, raising an eyebrow, the scar near his lip lifting up slightly in a teasing grin.

“i-i don’t know w-what you’re talking about, toji~ why were you looking at my messages!” you accuse, your face growing hotter by the second with embarrassment and…lust? wait what no, he’s your neighbor you can’t do this! you can feel your panties getting more soaked by the second and you cannot bear to look at toji’s stupid handsome face, so you look at his hands. the way his large fingers rest on the sofa. how would they look around your neck? oh my god, snap out of it!

“why are you telling everyone but me you think i’m hot?” he counters, pulling you from your thoughts. “that reallyyy hurts my feelings, y/n-kun”, toji says as he pretends to pout. wait, when did he get so close to you?

“it’s s-so unprofessional i didn’t want to-“ you start rambling. toji is right next to you, his knees touching your knees. he stops you mid sentence by using his hands that are practically the size of your face to grab your jaw and force you to face him, as you let out a pathetic little whine.

“cut the shit, pumpkin. it’s just babysitting, okay. it’s not that serious,” toji spits harshly. every muscle in your body is on fire, and you have to actively prevent your eyes from rolling back. you swear you had a fantasy dream like this once (oh god, was it with toji?).

“don’t think i don’t see you looking sooo disappointed when i bring yet another girl home with me. hell, it even makes me feel bad…” toji trails off, as he loosens his grip on your jaw, slowly using his fingers to trace your jawline. you shiver at his touch. “hell, even i feel bad when i see your sad sad face drop. my poor girl…”, toji feigns a frown as he starts to softly trace the outline of your lips.

instinctively, you let out a quite moan when his fingers touch your lips. “i do, toji. i feel so sad when i see you with those other girls. i can’t stand it when someone else has you.” you confess, almost embarrassingly easily. your wide bambi eyes look at toji’s, and you’re not sure if you want to cry or beeline back to your place and forget this ever happened. or perhaps a secret third option where you give in to the desires you’ve had all along?

toji groans deeply as he shifts slightly in his seat, but before you’re able to look down and see the hardening tent in his pants, toji shoves his index and middle fingers into your mouth, taking you by surprise. you stifle out a moan before toji sticks them deeper down your throat.

he doesn’t even have to ask you to suck on them as you instinctively start to do so, making a show of gagging on them for toji’s pleasure. you feel warm as you hear toji let out a groan as he slips in a third finger, making you choke on them. your moans vibrate against his fingers and he hums in approval of how well you’re doing with no instruction from him.

“you’re doing so well, pumpkin,” toji hums, a string of saliva connecting his fingers to your mouth as he slowly takes his fingers out of your mouth.

alright, fuck it. this sends you over the edge. your lips crash into toji’s, teeth hitting each as you both get to know the shape of each others mouths. you bite his lip and that’s all it takes for toji to pull you onto his lap and deepen the kiss with his tongue, exploring every inch of your mouth. you feel the vibrations of his groans and your hips grind into his thigh as you put your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close as you can to him. your legs wrap around his torso as his hands grab your ass harshly. you let out a yelp into his mouth, daring not to end the kiss.

“oh you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you, pumpkin?” toji breaths against your neck after breaking the kiss. he begins to kiss your neck and you moan his name embarrassingly load.

“tojiiii~” you whine, “i need you, please~” you try to move your hips against him to feel some friction in the place you need it the most.

“shhh, you’re gonna wake m’gumi up,” he slurs in a low voice, already drunk off of your warmth. "not so fast, pumpkin", he says as he stills your hips, "i call the shots here." he grins and before you even know it, your back hits the sofa and he pulls your legs up on his shoulders.

you feel exposed, as shoko's pleated skirt does a poor job of leaving anything to the imagination, and all of a sudden, you really wish you wore your trusted boy shorts instead of your black lace thong under it. as he starts to kiss your ankles while looking deeply into your eyes, you see nothing but primal lust on his face. he lightly bites your ankle, making you slightly yelp before covering your mouth, remembering megumi upstairs.

toji's eyes wander to your sweet spot, and it's taking everything in you not to thrust your soaking core into his hungry face. "oh, is that where you want me to touch you?" he teases, his hands running down softly from your ankles to your inner thigh. your hips wiggle side to side, hoping his fingers end up grazing your aching core, but toji holds you hips down roughly. he scoots back and peppers your leg with kisses, slowly inching up and up until he's mere inches away from your panties.

he plants a wet kiss on your clothed mound and you let out a pathetic mewl as toji shoots his head up and stops dead in his tracks. "make another noise, pumpkin, and we end this right now and you go home frustrated and upset." he warns. unfortunately, this turns you on even more and your hands are over your mouth immediately, eyes shut closed, praying toji pities you and gives you some release.

you feel toji take off your panties agonizingly slowly, and your breath hitches. "oh, your panties are fully ruined. better get rid of them." toji says as he tosses them somewhere across the room.

"it's your fault..." you say, you voice a low whisper through your hands.

toji starts back at your mound again and moans into the kiss in agreement. his fingers lightly touch your core, and you shiver in anticipation. "oh, this is where your sensitive, right?" toji teases, as his fingers finally start circling the part of your delicate bud you've been aching for toji to touch. you bite your hand to prevent yourself from moaning loudly, and take deep breaths so to not make any noise.

toji starts circling your sensitive bud with his fingers, moving with your hips as you get to a rhythm that has you on cloud nine. you feel the familiar build up beginning, when toji abruptly takes his fingers away, leaving you breathless and practically whining from his lack of touch. "ohhh, don't worry, pumpkin. i just wanna taste you," he coos, before diving mouth first into your sensitive bud once more, tasting every inch of your delicate core.

this time, you're unable to hold back and your deep breaths are practically moans. you're laughing, whining, crying...you're not actually sure. you're mind is clouded by the pleasure toji's tongue is sending through your body.

toji's fingers start teasing your entrance as your hips buckle and you start grinding on his face. you're making a mess on his sofa but you don't even care, and neither does toji. "oh, toji, fuck~ that feels...soo good...fuck~" you whine. you're practically begging for his fingers inside you, and toji finally complies and inserts his finger inside you.

"please toji~", you whisper, "i need more, please, please."

"wow, someone's a bit greedy. one finger just isn't enough for a slut like you, huh?" toji chides, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your body. he inserts two more fingers, and you feel a pang of pain, which makes you yelp.

"toji~ it's too much," you cry out, unable to handle three of his large fingers inside you at once.

"oh, now it's a problem? you can take it, pumpkin." toji encourages, moving his fingers at a moderate pace while his mouth is still playing with your delicate bud. the pain slowly turns into pleasure, and the pleasure slowly turns into an inevitable build up that's starting to cloud your vision.

"toji~" you whine. "i'm getting so close, please..." you trail off, trying your hardest to lower your moans.

"please what?" toji asks, knowing full well what you wanted, and that he was the only person able to give it you. toji's member was practically begging for escape against his dark pants, but he was far too drunk on your sweet nectar. he doesn't remember the last time he tasted someone as addicting as you.

"please, can i...c-can i...?" you don't get to finish your sentence before toji groans a "yes" into your core, and the dam that had been building finally burst as you release all over toji's face.

you pant heavily as you finish, hoping you weren't too loud. toji lifts his head from between your legs and immediately darts to your lips, kissing you deeply before you can say anything. you moan into the kiss, still feeling the effects of your orgasm rippling through your sensitive body. you taste yourself in toji's kiss and you never want it to end. a whine escapes your mouth when toji's lips finally disconnect from yours, an unashamed smile playing on toji's face. "did you like that, pumpkin?" he asks.

you're still catching your breath as you nod and smile, gazing at him softly. you can't help but want to return the favor for toji, as you slowly get up and scan toji up and down. god, he's so fucking fit.

you scoot closer to toji, maintaining eye contact, and placing your hands on his upper thigh. oh my god, his legs are just pure rock hard muscle. your hands shake slightly as they make their way on top of toji's hard straining member. toji chuckles as you grasp him over his dark pants, stopping you in your tracks by grabbing your wrist and moving it away from him.

"woah, hold on there y/n. it's 11pm. a bit too late to start something now, dontcha think?" he inquires, raising his eyebrows at you.

heat rises to your cheeks and you feel so embarrassed you could combust. oh my god, wait, does he not want you to return the favor? the insecurity showed up immediately on your face, with your lips frowning and eyebrows scrunching. toji cups the side of your face endearingly and his thumb grazes your lower lip before letting it sit there.

"hey, don't give me that look. i want this. i want you but...it's late. megumi has school tomorrow and it's parent teacher night. i know you have class, too," he explains.

you pout, but not before sucking toji's thumb that was grazing your lower lip and giving it a wet kiss. "that's not fair~ i really want to return the favor toji..." your voice trails, as you already know this conversation is over. you sigh as you turn away from him and reach for your notebook and laptop on the coffee table. you get up and bend down to grab your bag and start packing your belongings and fishing out your keys.

you hear toji hum and turn around to see the gears twisting in his dark eyes that are fixated on you. wait, hold on. he's not looking at you. he's looking at your ass. and he's being so obvious and unashamed about it, too!

you blush and roll your eyes as you chide toji. "wow, so you don't want me to suck your dick but you're gonna look at my ass as i leave?"

toji laughs earnestly and the sound of his laughter makes you feel warm and relaxed inside. you could probably live the rest of your life hearing that laugh. wait, what? rest of your life?

"first off, i do want you to suck me off, pumpkin. second, am i not allowed to respectfully admire? anyway, i was thinking. maybe you come with us to the parent-teacher meeting tomorrow? you practically help the kid with his homework every other night, and i think he really sees you as someone he can trust." toji says, bringing you out of your thoughts. you notice the hidden solitude behind his eyes, and feel a pang of melancholy in your heart. you don't know much about toji and megumi's mom, and you never thought it appropriate to discuss with either one of them, so you always let it be. a part of you is curious and another part is afraid to touch such a vulnerable side to toji, fearing it may alter your relationship with him permanently.

"we can grab dinner before, too. my treat." toji winks, and you scoff. he never even makes sure there's food for you at home before he leaves, always leaving you to pay for your own dinner every night you babysit, let alone pay a meal for you.

you roll your eyes, trying to act upset, but a giggle breaks out anyway. "yeah, i'd love to." you respond genuinely.

you finish packing up your things before searching for your discarded panties in toji's living room. "looking for these?" toji teases, holding up your lacy black thong, still ruined with the mess you made earlier today.

"give 'em back, toji~" you say, trying to reach for the panties from toji, before he stuffs them in his pocket.

"i think i'll keep these actually. they need to go in the laundry anyway, might as well be here." he teases, as you pout. toji cracks an evil grin, knowing deep down you must love having to go back home without any panties in your short skirt.

and he was right, you kinda did love it. a blush creeps up to your cheeks as you shake your head in dismay. "you're so fuckin' annoying, y'know?" you say as toji interlaces his fingers with yours as he walks to you to the door.

"yeah, i know. let's see if you're still that mouthy after you choke on me tomorrow," toji says, giving you a playfully menacing look.

the cool air of the late night nips at your skin, making you shiver, but you know deep down that has more to do with thinking about all the things toji will do to your poor throat tomorrow evening. "hm, we'll see...," you say, as your breath hitches slightly. you stand up on your tippy toes to give a quick peck goodnight to toji.

you honestly should've known better because toji immediately leans forward and turns the quick kiss into a deep make out session in the chill yet humid night air. he's quick to grab your ass, and you're quick to regain your senses and break off the kiss. oh my god, what if someone saw us, you think, recalling all the girls in the neighborhood that fawn over toji and the fact that you weren't wearing panties thanks to toji.

"stop toji~ it's late like you said," you whine, wriggling out of his strong grasp. you turns you around, you back flush against him and he laughs into your neck, arms wrapping your hips tightly from behind.

he releases you but not before giving you one last squeeze. "goodnight, pumpkin."

"night, toji," you say softly as you turn around and head to your car in the driveway. you do a poor job of pulling your skirt down as low as it can possibly get without you looking incredibly stupid, and cross your arms in the cold breeze.

you hear the door close, and start up the car engine and back out, relying only on muscle memory to get you home, as you spend the entire five minute car ride thinking solely about everything that happened today. how were you ready for another release already? you make a mental note to charge your vibrator when you get back to your apartment.

just as you pulled into the drive way, you jaw fell and you remembered. oh shit wait, he still hasn't paid me.

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 16 days

Text

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬 (𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐅𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝)

Word Count:

Disclaimer: Think about it. Write about it. Have hard thoughts. Do not take it seriously. None of this confirmation is confirmed and all theoretical. If you want to read more, check out my 'Hongjoong as your late bloomer bf' post.

Methodology: Traditional Astrology & Whole Sign

Hongjoong has dyed his hair back black and it's my favourite hair colour on him (we see it so rarely) and b/c he's my Ateez bias- I had to revamp his natal chart.

Overview:

Scorpio Sun (11th House)

Gemini Moon (6th House)

Capricorn Rising (Saturn-Ruled)

Sagittarius Mercury (12th House)

Scorpio Venus (11th House)

Virgo Mars (9th House)

Fuckboi Rating:

2/10

Out of all the members of Ateez, I'm inclined to believe that Hongjoong would least likely be a fuckboi because his Scorpio stellium and Moon in the 6th House indicates he's not a shallow man and craves soul-bonding, all-too consuming connection in relationships.

Take this next point very casually BUT as someone who has similar placements to him AND the overall energy I get from Hongjoong, I wouldn't be surprised if he identifies with being demi-sexual and he can't find pleasure in physical intimacy w/o an emotional connection.

This is emphasised with having a Virgo Mars because Earth Mars typically have a fluctuating sex drive so he can probably abstain for awhile and be okay with it.

Red & Green Flags:

Red:

Emotional and verbal dysregulation! His 12th House Mercury indicates difficulty expressing emotions in a calm and collected manner.

The Sagittarius influence heightens that trait by making his impulsive behaviour more erratic and could be seething for days before he randomly explodes over a simple issue.

PETTY! The 12th House Mercury and Scorpio placements indicate he could be the type to weaponize the silent treatment, going for hours without speaking to you until you figured out what you did wrong.

Green:

LOYAL TO THE BONE!!! You could go to hell and back and Hongjoong would hold your hand the entire time. These moments of 'difficulties' actually enhance Hongjoong's affection towards you because you trust him to see you at your most 'vulnerable'.

Committment!!! Yes, this should be a bare minimum but Hongjoong would be a faithful man and you would never have to worry about him cheating because he probably views cheating as a betrayal of trust.

Self-automony! By this I mean he values independence and wouldn't try to 'change' you as a person and would choose to accept your flaws and all.

Ideal Type...If He's Into Women:

It's interesting because his 5th House in Taurus is the complete opposite to his Scorpio Venus so his type could have polarising qualities.

Either they are boisterous and loud in public and shy and laid-back around him or vice versa. He likes a partner who shows a side of themselves that only Hongjoong can see.

Hongjoong is definitely an arse and legs man and would be attracted to the grunge but feminine archetype so lace dresses, stockings with Doc Martens etc.

I've noticed in fancalls he loves curly hair, whenever there's a fancall with an Atiny and they have curly hair, he'll always comment about how good their hair looks.

Dom, Sub Or Switch?

Hongjoong is one of the members that's more of a true 'switch' when it comes to power dynamics and yes, he is definitely more on the dominant side BUT not to far...I'd say 60% dominant, 40% submissive.

It's why whenever I scroll the ateez smut tags and see a Seongjoong fic where it's bottom!hwa...I laugh because it's actually the other way around.

Hongjoong is definitely more of a service/pleasure dom and his Gemini Moon and 11th House Venus makes him flexible in what he desires sexually in a partner.

He would enjoy having a bratty sub that he can put in place (kindly) like you see with Wooyoung.

He would also enjoy an obedient sub that completely adores and worships him.

No matter what, he needs to know that you're willing and trusting to put your entire body and soul in his hands.

Kinks...Just A Few Of Them:

Corruption!!!

Yes, I know this is very obvious BUT it's completely true because his Scorpio placements indicates he wants to OWN you as partner (consensual of course) and the thought of him being the FIRST to touch you, to mould you to his desires...it would just cause his heart to quicken and his mind to race with the most impure of thoughts.

This would also cater towards enjoying someone who might be nervous/slightly insecure around him, it would boost his ego to see your cheeks flush at him taking off your clothes or whispering something suggestive in your ear.

'You're so cute when you're nervous angel but don't worry, I'll take care of you because you're mine remember? And I always look after what's mine'.

Voyeurism...Kinda??

Hear me out and if someone knows the proper term for this...can you comment down below???

But with Hongjoong and his love for photography...he'd love to keep a personal scrapbook of all the photos he's taken of you after a steamy session of love-making.

This goes hand in hand with his corruption kink and his love for 'ruining' you- lipstick smeared, hair tousled, mascara running down your face, cheeks flushed.

I'm leaning towards voyeurism because he wouldn't show these photos to anyone, they would be for his own personal collection because he gets off on knowing that it's just HIM that can do this to you and see you this way.

'Fuck angel, spread your legs a bit more...I want to see it all drip out for me...these photos just want to make me dress you up and fuck you all over again'.

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @craxy-person @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen

@michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @ja3hwa

@lyramundana @saintfool @wolfakira @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @smilefordongil @wisejudgedragonhairdo @writhingwrecked @hongthoven

Please comment, share and thirst the hell out of this because this took WEEKS to finish!!!

May's fic will be out and published on the 31st.

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cegantheayugipi · 1 year

Text

The Last Padisarah Pudding, Part 3

An Alhaitham Enemies to Lovers Smut Oneshot

Link to artist

Summary: You never realized an innocent date with your best friend would set off your rival like this... He never seemed like the jealous type -- until he cornered you in the kitchen, demanding to know the nature of your friendship...

Word Count: 9.4k

Part 1

Part 2 (smut)

MINORS DNI!!! BIG SMUT BELOW THE CUT!!

Tags include: Hate sex, competitive sex, aggressive sex, hair pulling, choking, biting, orgasm denial, power dynamics, spanking, I'm so sorry I'm forgetting more but the list is just too long

You dipped your spoon into the bowl of unusually colored Padisarah Pudding in front of you, taking a bite of your favorite desert and smiling from the familiar flavors.

“Your cooking is delicious as always, Nilou!” You spoke to the redhead seated across the table. The two of you were sitting at one of the small wooden picnic tables inside the Grand Bazaar, not far from the Zubayr Theater where Nilou worked.

The dancer merely laughed, “I’m just glad we have time to enjoy it together. It’s been a while since we’ve last met.”

“That’s true, it really has been a while.” You nodded, realizing you had been incredibly busy since you graduated… At least, until the chemical “incident” that had led to your house being deemed temporarily uninhabitable by Amurta Scholars. Now that your schedule was relatively clear, you had time to hang out with your friend – your best friend, in fact. You and Nilou had known each other since you were little. Once upon a time, you wanted to be a dancer like her too… but your thirst for knowledge eventually outweighed your love for dance, and you ended up choosing the other side of Sumerian society – the one that sadly disapproved of your favorite hobby.

Despite the cultural rift that separated your young adult years from Nilou’s, you still made a consistent effort to spend time with her. During your years at the Akademiya, you enjoyed coming down to the Bazaar and dancing at the theater with your best friend. It was a wonderful way to de-stress.

“Hmm…” you trailed off as you reminisced.

“Are you lost in thought again, Y/N?” Nilou asked, resting her chin on both hands as she smiled at you.

“Ah, yeah, I was just thinking about the times we used to dance together.” You responded, your tone carrying a hint of nostalgia.

“Well, the stage is available for the next couple of hours, and I have a spare outfit you can use. Why not try a dance after we’re done with the pudding?”

“That actually sounds like a wonderful idea…” You grinned. “But speaking of pudding, do you have any extras I can take with me? After all, you invented the red Padisarah Pudding, and it doesn’t quite taste the same when I try to recreate it at home.”

“Of course! Whenever we meet, I always make sure to bring extras of your favorite dessert.” Nilou nodded.

When the two of you were finished with your desserts, you stood up from the table and dusted off your clothes.

“Actually, some dancing is exactly what I need. I should really make an effort to exercise if I keep eating so much pudding, otherwise it’ll just go to my waistline.” You joked, laughing.

“Oh, shut it! You’ve always had a beautiful figure. Don’t worry about things like that.” Nilou shook her head as she stood up with you, reaching out to give you a hug. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You blushed at Nilou’s overt compliment. “You’re too sweet, Nilou.”

The redhead withdrew from the hug, reaching up one hand to caress your cheek.

“It’s only true.” She smiled, “Now, let’s get going.”

The redhead outstretched a hand to you, and you took it as a smile broke across your face. The two of you began to walk towards Zubayr Theater together.

Meanwhile, standing beside a vendor selling textiles, a blonde head of hair tracked the two of you as you walked away holding hands.

“Sir, did you still want the broadcloth?” The vendor asked, wondering why the blonde seemed so distracted.

“Uhm, yes.” Kaveh responded, shaking his head. “I’ll take swatches in all the colors you have.”

He was still very distracted, having been thoroughly confused by what he just witnessed. Nilou and you had just hugged, then she touched your face, then the two of you walked away holding hands… Kaveh’s eyes widened as he had a brutal realization.

‘Is she… in a relationship?’

~~~

Kaveh slammed the front door to Alhaitham’s house shut behind himself, kicking off his shoes in the entryway before stalking over to the living room table and tossing down the fabric swatches he had just bought. He ran a hand through his hair, brushing back his messy blonde bangs.

“Always making a grand entrance whenever you come home.” Alhaitham sighed, flipping to the next page of the book he was reading.

“Wh-” Kaveh spun around as he realized Alhaitham had been sitting on one of the couches this entire time, his nose buried in yet another book. “And you’re always secluding yourself away like a lone wolf, preferring to spend your time reading rather than talking to anyone.”

“Is there a problem with that?” Alhaitham responded, his eyes still locked onto the page as his gaze scanned across the lines of small letters.

“Maybe if you got up and talked to people for once, you’d find out more about Y/N too.” Kaveh sighed.

“What about her?” Alhaitham shrugged. “I spoke to her just this morning. Still stubborn and indignant, as she has been for the past week she has stayed here.”

“Did you ever stop to think it could be because we fucked her while she’s in a relationship?” Kaveh spat bluntly, his voice wavering from the intense anger and panic he felt about this situation.

Alhaitham looked up from his book. This surprised Kaveh – he had never seen Alhaitham so readily stop reading like that. The scribe gave him a perplexing look… confusion, mixed with… panic?

“What?” Alhaitham muttered.

“I saw her on a date. With that dancer at the Zubayr theater. On a date, Alhaitham!” Kaveh exclaimed.

“With who? Nilou?”

“The redhead who’s always famous for her dancing, Alhaitham.” Kaveh’s description confirmed Alhaitham’s suspicion.

“There’s no way. She never gave me any hint that she was-” Alhaitham cut himself off, his eyes moving from side to side as he thought. “Where did you see them?”

“The Grand Bazaar.” Kaveh responded flatly.

Alhaitham closed his book with one hand, the cover snapping shut with force. He abruptly stood up from the couch, tossing the book onto the living room table before walking directly towards the front door.

“Who’s being dramatic now?” Kaveh scoffed, but Alhaitham was too busy running through all of his memories looking for any hint of an answer to the question.

Were you already in a relationship?

~~~

“Wow, Nilou, this outfit is gorgeous! It looks just like yours, except the color is different.” You smiled, twirling in the mirror.

“I thought it’d suit you! That’s why I kept it around even though it doesn’t quite fit right anymore.” Nilou responded, fixing the headdress and her bangs in a vanity on the other side of the dressing room. She looked up for a second, only to see something peculiar on the back of your neck.

“Y/N, are you bruised?” Nilou questioned, getting up from her seat at the vanity and walking towards you.

“A-ah,” You blushed, your hand immediately going up to the dark purple mark that stood out now that your hair was out of the way. “Well, about that…”

Nilou let out a gasp.

“Did my dearest innocent Y/N finally get intimate with someone?”

“U-uhm, yeah…”

“And you didn’t tell me about it earlier?” Nilou questioned, far more excited than offended you had withheld this information from her. She hugged you from behind, snaking her arms around your waist. “Who was it with? Is it someone I know?”

You suddenly felt extremely shy.

“It was two people…” Your voice fell to a soft murmur.

Nilou let out another gasp, her eyes going wide.

“And one of them was Alhaitham.”

“The CLASSMATE YOU HATED?!” Nilou practically screamed. “I remember when all you would do when we hung out was rant about how much you hated him! Oh, to think how the tides have turned! I’m so happy for you!” Nilou swayed on her feet.

“I still hate him.” You grumbled. “Smug bastard.”

“Huh? You still hate him, even though you…” Nilou trailed off, tilting her head to the side with confusion.

“Forget about it, let’s just dance!” You changed the subject, twirling on your feet and watching the fabric flare around your body.

“Alright, alright, let’s go!” Nilou nodded, understanding it was something you’d rather not talk about.

~~~

Alhaitham pushed his way through the crowds at the Grand Bazaar. He hated the busy underground market, and never came here unless he absolutely had to.

And after hearing what Kaveh had said, he really had to.

The crowd of people grew thicker and thicker as he made his way towards the center of the Bazaar, where Zubayr Theater stood. Alhaitham wondered why there would be so many people standing in place, but that was until he looked at the main stage and promptly froze in shock.

There you twirled elegantly, almost professionally, stepping in time alongside Nilou. Alhaitham couldn’t even get started on what you were wearing. He had never seen you in clothing like this, something that hugged your figure and suited you so perfectly. The fabric swayed with the tantalizing way you moved.

Alhaitham found himself enthralled by your dance. He normally never enjoyed things like this, preferring something far more interesting like a new book. Perhaps it was because it was incredibly rare to see you so at peace, so truly happy out on the stage.

For a moment, Alhaitham doubted everything he had ever known about you. If he hadn’t spent six years at the Akademiya and his early professional career butting heads with you, he would have assumed you had only ever been a dancer.

And the way you moved in sync with Nilou…

A hand trailed over your bare stomach, Nilou’s arms moving gracefully and delicately over your body as the two of you danced. After another spin, you did the same to Nilou, and Alhaitham seethed inwardly as he saw a smile grow across the redhead’s face.

Alhaitham realized Kaveh was exactly right to say what he said. The way you moved in perfect sync with the Nilou, your bodies coming within inches of each other during certain moves, it made the dance seem almost intimate.

You and Nilou finished the dance with a twirl, coming to a rest side-by-side, one arm wrapped around each other’s waist while the other waved at the huge crowd that had gathered around the stage.

The sea of people roared, cheering and clapping for the two dancers. Alhaitham saw you let out a laugh that he couldn’t hear since the crowd was far too loud. You turned to Nilou with a flushed face and spoke something, and she nodded in response. The two of you began to walk to different parts of the stage; it seemed like you were beginning another dance.

Suddenly, Alhaitham couldn’t bear to watch anymore – he turned around and stormed away, his head now filled with far too many thoughts that he didn’t want to think.

~~~

You hummed to yourself as you walked into Alhaitham’s kitchen, carefully putting away the Padisarah Pudding that Nilou had sent home with you. It was hard not to eat it all immediately – Nilou’s specialty was your favorite food, and you truly believed you’d never get sick of eating it.

First, however, you really wanted a bath. It had been a long day for you, and you were looking forward to a luxurious soak in the guest bedroom’s ensuite bath. After all, you only had two days left before Amurta scholars would perform their inspection of your old apartment to deem it habitable once again, so you felt the need to make the most of Alhaitham’s luxurious house.

You turned around to leave the kitchen when a hand came out of nowhere, landing on the cabinet beside your head with a loud bang.

You nearly jumped at the noise – looking up, you realized it came from a glowering Alhaitham.

“What are you wearing?” Alhaitham stared down at you.

“It’s a dancing outfit, why are you even asking?” You grumbled. “Have you never seen one before?”

‘Not one on you.’

Alhaitham held back his words, despite wanting so badly to say that you shouldn’t be allowed to wear something so… provocative in public. So, instead, Alhaitham decided to cut to the chase.

“What are you and Nilou to each other?” Alhaitham questioned, narrowing his eyes.

You blinked.

Well, Alhaitham was certainly getting straight to the point.

“Excuse me…?” You muttered, baffled. What on earth was he talking about?

“It’s a simple question.” Alhaitham leaned closer to you, his eyes scrutinizing the look on your face. “I saw the two of you dancing at the Grand Bazaar. What is Nilou to you?”

You scoffed as you realized what he was concerned about.

“What are you, jealous?” You smirked. ”I thought you hated the Grand Bazaar. Why were you even there?”

“Just answer my question.” Alhaitham narrowed his eyes at you, his expression growing more and more frustrated.

“Hah.” Alhaitham’s insistence confirmed it. “I’m not surprised you’re jealous of Nilou, you’re just a feeble scholar after all.”

Alhaitham seethed inwardly as he leaned in closer to your face, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s a simple question.” He spoke. All he wanted was an answer from you, so he would have to ignore your childish teasing until he got one.

“She’s my best friend, you ASSHAT!” Your voice rose into a shout.

“Then why have I never seen you two together before?” Alhaitham questioned.

“You would have if you ever bothered to visit the Bazaar.” You scoffed. “But you’re too busy acting like Academics are superior to anything else in Sumeru, with your stupid superiority complex that makes you feel like you have to run laps around your own professors to have any sense of achievement.”

“As if you aren’t the same.”

“That’s because I’m NOT!” You spat, your lips forming a bitter frown. “I used to be a dancer before I joined the Akademiya… but you’d never understand that side of Sumerian Culture.”

“Dancing is a pointless waste of time. You were far better off in the Akademiya.” Alhaitham spoke sharply.

Your eyes went wide.

“Fuck you, Alhaitham.”

The scribe didn’t realize how hurtful his words truly were to you… he was simply glad you chose to become a scholar because otherwise, he would have never met you in the first place.

“So you and Nilou really are nothing more than friends?” Alhaitham pressed further, only deepening your wound.

“Is that all you fucking care about? Asshole.” You averted your gaze from the scribe that towered over you, slipping out from where he had nearly sandwiched you against the wall.

You were done with the conversation. You were going back to the guest bedroom to take a bath like you had been planning to do after a long day in the city.

“Wait,” Alhaitham followed after you, completely disregarding the way you made it very obvious that you no longer wanted to speak to him.

“You really never know when to stop.” You scoffed, spinning around and stalking towards him until you were face-to-face again. “Why do you feel the need to hear that Nilou and I were only ever friends? Are you really that jealous?”

“I want to make sure I didn’t force you to cheat.” Alhaitham spoke flatly, his tone unusually bland as he was finally forced to voice the worry that had been plaguing him for the whole day.

“Oooooh you SELFISH BASTARD!” You roared. “Do you really think you made me do all of that with you and Kaveh? I can make choices too! I’m not some child or some idiot you can just manipulate to feed your selfish desires, no matter how much you wish that was the case!”

As you shouted, you placed a palm flat on Alhaitham’s chest, pushing him backwards until his back collided with the wall beside a doorway.

Alhaitham was speechless at your sudden shove, having never seen you act in such a way. This time, he had his back against the wall, and you were leaning far too close to him. He could see the rage in your eyes, the indignation his questioning had caused you…

Your hands suddenly reached up, raking through his hair before pulling his head down to crash your lips into his. Alhaitham’s arms moved on impulse, slipping around your waist and pulling your body closer to his.

The kiss was aggressive, hungry, your teeth tearing at his lips. Alhaitham’s hands began to travel down your waist, his hands roaming over your body and savoring its supple curves.

Your hands dropped from his head and pushed against his shoulders as you broke from the kiss, leaning away from him. There was still a fire in your eyes despite your swollen cheeks and flushed face.

Alhaitham was stunned as one of your hands flew up to strike him across his face.

“Fuck you.” You spat, and despite the harsh hit he had just received, Alhaitham immediately began to smirk.

“Only if you insist.”

You let out a guttural moan that could be described as something close to a growl… Your hand reached up to grab the collar of Alhaitham’s shirt, pulling him forwards so your lips could collide again.

This time, your hand snaked down the front of his torso, going for the growing bulge in his pants. You smirked as you palmed it, eliciting a groan from the Scholar.

“Only a little kissing, and you’re already this hard?” You sneered.

With something halfway between a scoff and a laugh, Alhaitham’s hands slid under the curve of your ass to grip your upper thighs.

“Jump.” He ordered, his voice cold.

You were about to argue back at him, but Alhaitham didn’t seem to care whether you jumped or not – with strength alone he lifted you off your feet, bringing your legs up to hook around his torso and give himself better access to you.

The scribe spun around to put your back against the wall this time, rolling his hips and pressing his stiff length against the clothing that hid your drooling pussy. A breathy gasp escaped your lips, and Alhaitham broke the kiss to lean back and stare into your half-lidded eyes.

“Who’s the one getting turned on now?” He smirked.

“Bastard-” You grumbled, but Alhaitham quickly cut you off by smothering your mouth with his. It felt like you were fighting against his lips, the way they seemed to devour you. His hips continued to roll, spreading pleasure like a wildfire through your body as his erection pressed near-painfully into you. You wrapped your legs around his torso tighter, your thighs squeezing his waist as he held you against the wall.

“Mmmh!” You moaned into the kiss, your eyes squeezing shut as Alhaitham ground into you again. Alhaitham used your temporary weakness to rudely invade your mouth with his tongue.

You tried your best to withhold the moan that threatened to escape as Alhaitham’s tongue swirled around yours. It felt so good – but that fact alone made you angry.

You groaned, deciding to bite down on Alhaitham’s tongue. However, he seemed to sense this coming as he withdrew from the kiss, a string of saliva hanging between the two of you.

“Hah.” You scoffed. “Are you getting off to the fact that Kaveh is home and could walk in at any moment?”

“You’re assuming that I care.” Alhaitham responded with a smirk, dipping his head down to latch his lips onto the tender skin of your neck.

“Disgusting bas- haaah-” You groaned as he bit down and sucked at your sensitive skin, the pain only adding to the growing pool of wetness in your pants. Alhaitham moved to a different spot, continuing to litter your skin with marks. As he attacked your neck with his mouth, the pain became sharper and sharper. You realized he was breaking your skin with his teeth as you let out an airy moan.

Your hands went up to the back of his head, grabbing onto his hair in order to stop him from ruining your skin any more. It took a lot of strength, but you managed to pull him away from you. Alhaitham seemed to let out a low growl as you interrupted him.

“Stop it! Do you even care that you’re gonna leave marks?” You shouted, pulling on his hair even harder – to the point where you were beginning to pull out his hair.

“Stop pulling on me.” Alhaitham grumbled.

“No, fuck you!” You squirmed, grinding your crotch down on Alhaitham, making him grunt from the sudden stimulation.

“Let go.” Alhaitham ordered, his eyes squinting from the pain you were causing him by pulling at his hair. One of his hands shifted from under your thighs to wrap around your neck, giving the slender column of your airway a warning squeeze as he rolled his hips into you again.

With a groan, you finally let go of Alhaitham’s hair… leaving strands of gray in your hands.

You didn’t care as you tipped your head forward to mash your lips into his. You grunted, turning your head to attack at a different angle. You bit at Alhaitham’s lips, growing more and more aggressive after everything Alhaitham had done to you.

The scribe stepped away from the wall, both hands planted firmly on your ass as he began to carry you. He walked through the doorway beside the two of you, neither of you breaking the passionate kiss as you moved. As Alhaitham walked into the room, he threw his cloak onto the floor – he wouldn’t be needing it, anyway.

Alhaitham came to a stop. He suddenly pulled his head back, throwing you down. You let out a yelp as you fell backward. For a split-second you truly believed you were being thrown onto the floor. However, as extremely soft blankets stopped your fall, you realized Alhaitham had thrown you down on a bed – his bed.

“Fuck you, Alhaitham!” You reached up to smooth your hair back. Only then did you realize your hands were covered with silver strands of Alhaitham’s hair, and the scribe stared at this with ire.

“Were you trying to make me go bald?” Alhaitham questioned angrily, reaching one hand up to feel the back of his head.

“Yeah, your hair is ugly.” You joked.

Alhaitham narrowed his eyes.

“Well, you’d look far better without those clothes.” Alhaitham immediately responded.

“Hah. Did you just compliment me?”

Alhaitham replied by hooking his slender fingers around the waistband of your skirt. He gave a harsh tug, reducing the beautiful fabric of Nilou’s skirt to shreds.

“HEY!” Your voice rose into a shout. “These clothes are borrowed!”

“You ripped out my hair, so it’s only fair that I get to return the favor.” Alhaitham sneered. He reached one hand down to your underwear, pausing as he felt your soaked underwear. Pressing two fingers into the wet fabric, he forced a moan from your lips.

“Ngh, asshole!”

“Hah.” Alhaitham smirked. “You’re so wet it’s almost pitiful. Do these kinds of discussions turn you on this much?”

“I wouldn’t call them discussions. And you’re one to talk when your dick is trying to escape your pants.”

You reached down and gripped Alhaitham’s shaft tightly, your fingers digging into the fabric of his pants.

“Hah.” Alhaitham grunted as he tried to ignore the pleasure shooting up his stomach. He hooked his fingers around the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head, discarding the piece of clothing on the floor behind him. He climbed onto the bed on top of you, planting his hands on the mattress beside both of your shoulders and caging you between his arms.

Alhaitham dipped his head down for a passionate and aggressive kiss. Your teeth knocked together, tearing at each others’ lips, vying for dominance. The scribe reached down and roughly grabbed the wrist of your hand that was on his crotch, bringing your arm up beside your head and pinning it in place. He ground into you again, this time with very little clothing between the two of you.

You moaned, but you weren’t going to break the kiss – and neither was he.

It was a competition now.

You squirmed in response, pushing your hips up to roughly counter his action. It elicited a grunt from him, but he still didn’t break the kiss. You bit down on his lips hard – hard enough to taste the metallic blood that you had drawn.

Alhaitham grunted at the pain, and you felt his dick twitch against your inner thigh. You smirked into the kiss as he silently cursed you.

As retribution, Alhaitham’s free hand roamed down your torso. His fingers trailed over your bare stomach, hooking around the waistband of your panties, ripping them clean from your body with a single pull.

“Mmmh!” Your exclamation was muffled by Alhaitham’s lips. The sudden sensation of cool air directly on your wet heat made you press your thighs together, but they were stopped by Alhaitham’s hips which were still hovering right in front of your aching pussy. You wanted nothing more than to fall fully into this incredible sensation,

The scribe quickly freed his aching cock without you noticing – at least, not until he pressed his leaking tip against your entrance.

You froze for a moment, the sudden friction of bare skin against bare skin sending pleasure shooting through your body.

“Hahh.” Alhaitham finally broke the kiss, but you were too turned on to feel any sense of victory.

The scribe looked down at you, reveling in your pleasure-ridden expression and the way you squirmed beneath him.

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” He smirked, making you seethe with anger.

“Why you- haah!” Your eyes rolled back in your head as Alhaitham pressed himself into you, stretching you with his ridiculous girth. “Stop it- Fuck!”

You tried to kick your legs out to push him away. Alhaitham pulled his hips back slightly, seeming like he was complying with you, but only pushed forwards again moments later. Your mouth fell open as you felt his tip rub against your sensitive walls, and Alhaitham reveled in the way you fell apart beneath him.

“Ahn- haaah~ Fuck yo-” You went completely silent as he bottomed out inside of you, your face contorting with pleasure.

“When will you learn,” Alhaitham spoke as he slowly withdrew from you, “That you can’t win,” Alhaitham thrust his hips forwards, “against me.” He came to a stop, fully sheathed inside of you again.

“Aahhhnn~” Your back arched as you felt him invade your painfully sensitive pussy once more. Your legs twitched, and for a moment you couldn’t control your body anymore.

The pleasure made you forget all the anger you had harbored towards him; it was pitiful how easily you came undone. Alhaitham began to roll his hips, the slow prodding against your tender walls making you lose your sense of self.

His movements grew faster and larger; a squelching noise began to fill the room as he pushed in and out of you.

“Aaah stop it you bas- nngh!” Your words quickly became garbled from the pleasure Alhaitham was giving you. He rolled his hips into you harder, pressing himself against the plush of your ass, the tip of his swollen cock reaching even further inside of you.

“Why couldn’t you have been this easy in the Akademiya?” Alhaitham’s condescending tone grated against your ears, making your eyes go wide with shock. You snapped out of your pleasure-filled haze, suddenly enraged once again.

“How DARE YOU!” Your hands shot up to his chest, pushing against the scribe. Your irascibility only made Alhaihtam more smug, and it infuriated you. Gritting your teeth, you tried your hardest to push Alhaitham off of you – he was just too heavy, and your legs were just too weak with him still fucking into you.

So, instead, you reached your hands down and pinched one nipple – hard.

“Haah- fuck!” Alhaitham groaned, his hips stuttering, overwhelmed by the sudden jolt of pleasure you gave him.

“Oh?” You murmured, pinching harder. A fierce blush grew across Alhaitham’s face.

“S-stop that.” He grunted, his movements coming to a standstill.

“Oh, so now we’re allowed to say stop?” You retorted.

Twisting your body, you used all of your core and leg strength to flip Alhaitham over. He groaned as you forced him to pull out of you, kicking his hips over and forcing him to roll onto his side on the mattress.

You practically pounced onto him, straddling his waist as you bent down and latched your lips around one of his nipples. You pinched the other with one hand, rolling it between your thumb and forefinger. Alhaitham squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, making you laugh while you swirled your tongue around one nipple.

“Look at you, power tripping over the smallest of advantages- haah!”

You bit down on his nipple, eliciting a pained gasp from the scribe. Alhaitham hated the fact that he enjoyed this – reaching up, he grabbed you by your hair and yanked your face away from his sensitive chest.

“Advantage?” You scoffed, your neck straining against Alhaitham’s grip. “I’m pretty sure you’re enjoying this.”

“I have to admit, after all our -hnng- years at the Akademiya, you’re just as -fuck!- insufferable as ever.” Alhaitham groaned, tilting his head back and letting go of your hair as you ground down on his painfully hard dick.

“You’re one to talk.” You spoke. “You were the worst classmate I’ve ever had.” Your voice dripped with spite as you rolled your hips again, drawing another groan from Alhaitham.

“How could I be the worst classmate when I was always the best in the class?” Alhaitham retorted, pushing his hips up into you, grinding his length against your swollen folds.

“I could give you a comprehensive list.” You quickly responded, twisting his nipple – hard. You leaned down, biting and sucking at the soft skin of his chest. You wanted to leave marks bad enough to be seen through his ridiculous sheer skin-tight shirt.

“H-gah-ahh-” Alhaitham’s movements stuttered, far too sensitive to be treated this way. “Fuck, Y/N, what are you -hah- doing to me…”

“Payback.” You lifted your head up from his chest to respond as you shifted your hips. Lining your entrance up with the head of his aching cock, you pushed yourself down and forced him inside you.

“Archons- oh fuck-” Alhaitham groaned as he felt himself penetrate you. You knew he was anything but a pious man, so to hear him call out to the Gods reassured you that you were doing something right. Alhaitham began to erratically move his hips as he tried to get any motion he could, only to cry out at a completely new sensation.

Your hand reached behind yourself to snake down between Alhaitham’s legs. Your slender fingers wrapped around his swollen balls, squeezing them hard enough to teeter on the boundary between pleasure and pain.

“Don’t even think about trying to take over.” You snapped, grinding your hips down as you dug your nails into his ever-so-sensitive skin.

“Fuck- Y/N, s-stop!” Alhaitham’s hands flew down to your hips. He held onto your plush skin with an iron grip, trying his best to hold you still, though you could feel his hands slightly trembling as he held you.

“Make me.” You sneered, squeezing his balls tighter.

With something halfway between a growl and a groan, Alhaitham bucked his hips hard. He threw you off of him and made you land on your back on the soft mattress. Before you had time to react he pinned you down, using one arm to hold both of your hands above your head and the other to hold one of your legs.

He pushed your knee against your chest as you squirmed, hating the way he so easily restrained you. However, you couldn’t help but feel turned on by the helpless feeling you had as he forced his cock into you once again.

You let out a pitiful moan as Alhaitham pounded into you, this time too angry, fed up, turned on to give you the mercy of holding back. The slapping sounds grew louder and louder as your aching pussy drooled from the penetration, sweat building on your skin from the vigorous sex.

“Why can’t you just shut that pretty mouth of yours,” Alhaitham grunted, thrusting into you, “and let me make you feel good?”

“Fucking bastard-” You groaned, his smug words infuriating you.

“Or is it that you prefer pain?” Alhaitham began to pick up his pace – his hips rammed into the plush of your ass harder and harder, until it became painful. Alhaitham’s abdomen strained as he forced himself into you over and over again, his cock splitting your walls apart as the thrusting of his hips made your entire body jolt in the bed.

“Ah! Ow- Fuck- fuck- it hurts, you asshole, it HURTS!” You cried, knowing your ass would certainly be bruised after this.

“I don’t think you deserve to complain after the stunt you just pulled.” Alhaitham spat, his breathing labored from how vigorously he was fucking you.

“F-Fuck you!” You screamed, winding your one free leg back and kicking him in the face with what little strength you had left.

Alhaitham recoiled, stunned by the blow to his face. The scribe let go of your body, withdrawing from your abused pussy. He looked down at you with an expression you had never seen before…

Was it… Anger?

“Remember that you fucking asked for this.”

Alhaitham moved fast, nearly pouncing on you as he pinned both your legs against your chest. He entered you again, this time with your body even more restricted, not allowing your legs any movement at all as he immediately began his previous pace.

At this angle, somehow, your pleasure felt even more amplified than before. Your eyes rolled back in your head as Alhaitham relentlessly pounded into you. The squelching sounds of his cock invading your drenched pussy, the way he stretched you so perfectly, the bullying of his tip deep within your walls drove you mad with pleasure.

“Nggh!- haah- oh fuck~” The snap of his hips against your already-bruising ass drove you mad with a disgusting mixture of pleasure and pain.

“It's so much better when you’re reduced to unintelligible noises.” Alhaitham grunted.

“Fucking… ass… Haah~” You whined, but you weren’t able to do much more as your mouth hung open. Alhaitham savored the way your expression seemed vacuous, proof that he and he alone had successfully fucked you dumb.

Alhaitham slowed his thrusts almost completely, determined to torture and tease you until you were reduced to nothing. His length slid in and out of you slowly, and he could feel your swollen walls twitch and constrict from the sudden loss of friction.

However, Alhaitham wasn’t prepared for what you did next. He expected you to beg, to go insane, to promise to do anything just to come around his cock. The last thing he could ever foresee happening was for your face to return to normal, a devilish smirk growing across your lips.

“Fuck you.”

You spat out those words as you twisted your torso, one hand snaking around his back. Your legs shifted to wrap around Alhaitham’s torso as your fingers slipped into the cleft of his ass, making sure he was stuck there as you invaded his tight asshole.

“What are you- HEY!” Alhaitham exclaimed, prepared to force you away from him again, but completely caught off guard by the new sensation he felt.

“Wha- ngh! Ahn-” He groaned. You reveled in the way his face suddenly contorted with pleasure, making sure to ingrain this expression in your memory forever. Your smirk turned into a wicked grin as you pressed your forefinger further into his virgin ass.

The pleasure was foreign, but it was so intense that Alhaitham lost control of his limbs temporarily. He fell on top of you and you took this chance to wrap your legs around his torso, holding him in place as you began to pump the finger in and out of him.

“Haah- Y/N, wh-what is this-”

You cut Alhaitham off with another aggressive kiss, biting at his swollen and bloody lips as you drove him crazy with one single finger.

You could hear Alhaitham’s breathing become erratic as you continued, the scribe still unable to move due to the sheer volume of overstimulation. To make sure you truly drove him mad with pleasure, you added a second finger, probing further into his ass as you pumped in and out of him.

“Aahn~” Alhaitham broke from the kiss, his composure completely dissolving as he let out a whine. You’ve never seen him reduced to such a blubbering mess, and you made sure his whimpering and moaning would be etched into your memory permanently.

Alhaitham couldn’t hold up his head any longer – he rested his forehead in the crook of your neck, his shoulders shaking as he failed to prop himself up on his arms. You felt the full weight of Alhaitham’s body as he came undone from two fingers alone.

“No- fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!” You heard his voice crack while blubbering the mantra of curses as dick twitched and throbbed red-hot inside of you. You could feel his tight hole constrict around your fingers, making you pump into him harder as he whined. Your eyes went wide as you felt something warm spread across your walls. You withdrew both of your fingers from him, suddenly irate.

Alhaitham just came inside of you.

“Are you so incompetent that you just came inside of me?” You questioned, grabbing Alhaitham’s hair and pulling his head up so you could meet his eyes.

You stared for a moment at Alhaitham’s face – his eyes were unfocused, glazed over, a flush tinting his cheeks a deep red. There was a trail of saliva dripping from one corner of his mouth, his lips hanging open, along with smears of spit all over his chin as he tried his best to recover from what you had just done to him.

“Nghh…” Alhaitham groaned, his arms straining as he slowly picked himself off of you. “That’s what you get for invading my ass.”

“Hah!” You exclaimed, “I’m pretty sure you loved it.”

“Fuck you.” Alhaitham responded, his cognition reduced to vulgar insults after such intense stimulation.

“I’m pretty sure you just tried to do that.” You sneered. “You didn’t succeed, because the only person who came was you.”

Alhaitham merely growled, pushing himself off of you and withdrawing his half-hard dick from your pussy. It was coated in a sheen of white, a vulgar mixture of both your arousal and his cum. He grabbed your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your delicate skin as he pulled you towards the end of the bed and flipped you onto your stomach. He lifted your hips into the air, his biceps flexing as he supported your body weight.

Alhaitham used one thumb to pull apart your swollen lips, admiring the sheen of your arousal and the clumps of cum that dripped from your entrance. At the thought of brutalizing your pussy and unloading inside of it, his dick was already hard again.

“What are you doing- Ahhhnnn~” Your eyes went wide as Alhaitham thrusted into you, starting at an aggressive pace that had you digging your elbows into the mattress for support. You had no control since your legs were dangling in the air off the edge of the bed, the ridiculous position only made possible by Alhaitham’s strength.

“Do you really think you can win,” Alhaitham spoke, his voice mixing with the lewd slapping and squelching as he fucked you brutally, “when I’m stronger, I’m smarter, I’m better than you?

“Haaah~ you’re wrong-“ you gasped out, your head buried in the mattress as Alhaitham’s thrusts shook your body violently. “Aah- bastard!”

Alhaitham showed no signs of relenting as he burned with indignation. He couldn’t believe you had made him cum the way you did – it drove him to fuck you deeper, harder, to drive you insane with his cock. He ignored your whimpering and moaning, determined to teach you a lesson.

As he pummeled into you over and over, you could feel your abdomen tightening with pleasure. From this angle, he felt bigger and longer than before, and it was beginning to drive you insane. Each snap of his hips against your ass pushed you closer and closer to your climax, and you began to lose control of what you were saying as you approached the precipice of orgasm.

“Hnnn ‘Haitham… ‘so good…” You mumbled, your voice muffled from the way your head was pressed into the mattress.

“Hmm, what was that?” You heard Alhaitham speak smugly between the loud slapping of his thrusts.

“Screw you” You gave a breathless groan in response as you tried your best to hang onto reality despite being so close to orgasm. You were infuriated by how smug he was becoming even if not five minutes before he was in the exact same position. You were determined to not let him win in this competition.

However, a loud smack resounded through the room, followed by a whimper. Alhaitham had used one hand to land a harsh blow on your ass. He left behind a red handprint on your soft skin.

Alhaitham only smirked as he continued to fuck you; seeing the way your ass was in the air and your face was buried in the sheets seemed so perfect to him. He wanted to see you at his mercy, begging for his cock, calling his name over and over.

Thus, he pulled out of you suddenly, throwing your body back down onto the mattress. You rolled onto your back as you let out a whine from the sudden lack of stimulation and the harrowing sensation of emptiness within you.

“What? Wh-Why’d you stop, you asshole!” You shouted, glaring up at the narcissistic scholar.

“If you want to cum, you have to beg.” Alhaitham sneered. He got onto all fours above you, hands planted on either side of your head as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. You stared at him, half-expecting him to continue his brutal fucking despite what he had just said.

Instead, Alhaitham began to grind against your aching pussy. His thick length ran up and down your soaked slit, teasing your overly-sensitive clit.

“Hahhh… stop that!” You squirmed, but Alhaitham only ground against you harder. He dipped his head down, biting into the soft tissue of one breast, leaving a dark purple hickey as he withdrew.

“Beg.”

“Like hell I will!” You responded, trying to kick your legs only to realize Alhaihtam was hovering so low above you that you had no leverage when they were hooked over his shoulders like this. Alhaitham moved to another location, leaving a painfully dark hickey again.

“Ugh, stop it!” You reached your hands up, pulling at Alhaihtam’s hair to try to make him stop leaving hickeys.

Alhaitham’s lips parted from your chest with a popping sound, a string of saliva hanging from his lips as he reached one arm up and grabbed both of your hands. Pinning them above your head, he rocked his hips against you harder, making your back arch as you ached for him to fill you.

“Aagh!” You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “Stop teasing me and just fuck me already!”

“Hmm? What was that?” Alhaitham taunted, rolling his hips again, sending small jolts of pleasure shooting up your abdomen – but it wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you orgasm.

“I said, just fuck me already!” You groaned, your pussy clenching around nothing as you grew more and more desperate to be filled.

“Hmmm… I don’t like your tone.” Alhaihtam responded coolly, “I want you to beg.”

Another slow grind against your swollen lips left you panting.

“Haahh,” You blinked, trying your best to maintain composure, “fuck me… please.”

“Begging is really not a hard thing to do.” Alhaitham teased, “Are you really that bad at understanding such a simple direction?”

“Please fuck me.” You whimpered, your voice suddenly small.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” Alhaitham pushed you further as he ground against you again. The motion drew a small whimper from your lips.

“P-please, I need your cock…” You whined as Alhaitham rolled his hips into you once more, “I need your cock inside of me…”

“Very well.” Alhaitham spoke bluntly, drawing his hips back and thrusting into you with force.

You let out a shrill scream as Alhaitham’s hips came to land against the plush of your ass. The stretch felt so good, the way he filled you so perfectly made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

However, Alhaitham came to a stop like that. He didn’t move any more, keeping his hips settled against your ass. Your eyes blinked open as you came back to your senses, and you realized Alhaitham was staring down at you with an infuriatingly smug expression on his face.

“If you want me to do anything more than this, you’ll have to be better at begging.”

“Ngh… No… Please, just fuck me already…” You whimpered, trying to move your hips to gain any sort of friction between his cock and your aching walls.

“I said beg.”

“Please, please I’ll do anything, just fuck me!” You exclaimed, tears welling up in your eyes as you grew more and more desperate.

“If you really mean you’ll do anything,” Alhaitham’s voice dripped with gratification, “Then who’s cock do you want to fuck you?”

“Alhaitham’s cock, please, Alhaitham please fuck me! Please make me cum pleasepleaseplease-”

Alhaitham drew his hips back before sharply thrusting into you a single time, his hips colliding with your ass as a loud slap echoed through his bedroom. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you let out the most lewd and pitiful whine, your body shaking from how desperately you craved stimulation.

“Look at you, so desperate for the cock of a feeble scholar.” Alhaitham sneered, “If you want it so badly, you have to finally admit that I’m better than you.”

“Ngh, no-” You were cut off by another singular thrust, “haah- ngh…”

Alhaitham grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head back and exposing your throat. You moaned, somehow turned on by his painful grip on your hair.

“You’ll have to admit it if you want to cum. Trust me, I can wait all day... But I’m sure you wouldn’t like that.”

As Alhaitham spoke, he rolled his hips slightly, the tip of his dick pressing harder into your sensitive walls.

“Hahhh…” You sighed, your resolve finally breaking down. “You’re better, Alhaitham, you’re smarter and stronger and the only one who can make me-”

Alhaitham had finally heard what he was so eager to hear after all of these years. He finally let loose, allowing his desires to take over now that he won. He thrusted into you wildly, leaving all restraint in the back of his mind as he pummel into your sweet, submissive pussy.

You screamed as you finally received the stimulation you craved. Alhaitham went wild as he pounded into you, talking down to you now that your responses had devolved into lewd whimpers and screams.

“This is why the Sages chose me to retrieve the divine knowledge capsule and not you. Hahh, I’m surprised they even let you compete with me for the Auspicious knowledge capsule. You would have died at the hands of a Fatui Harbinger if it weren’t for my quick thinking… ngh…”

Alhaitham was getting far too turned on by talking down to you and hearing only garbled moans in response.

“Haaah, ‘Haitham!” You exclaimed, your eyes rolling back in your head as you grew closer and closer to orgasm. Your shouts rose into screams as Alhaitham continued to bully his quickly swelling cock into your aching and abused walls. “So good, so good, s’goo…” Your mind went blank from the pleasure as your mouth hung open, the sounds you made growing louder and louder.

“Ngh, shut up.” Alhaitham reached his free hand up to your neck, supporting his body weight on his elbows instead. He pulled harder on your hair as he squeezed your neck. He cut off your screams but at the same time stopped any access to air. Your mouth hung open silently, drool trailing from your swollen and bloody lips, your eyes going wide.

You finally, after hours of violently hateful sex, came at the mercy of your most hated rival.

And at that moment, you passed out.

Alhaitham could feel your walls convulse around his cock so tightly that his movements had to slow down – you were squeezing him so hard that it almost hurt. After a couple of seconds you suddenly went limp around him, your walls still twitching sporadically, and Alhaitham gave a few more sharp thrusts before pulling out of you and spraying his load over your chest and face.

The silver-haired scribe was panting hard as he slowly came down from his high. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it slick with sweat from so much physical exertion. He’d never had such intense sex in his life – even though his sex life was anything but bland.

He glanced down at your unconscious form sprawled out on the bed before him, your head twisted at an awkward angle and your legs splayed on either side of you as if they were putting your leaking pussy on display. He watched as a thick stream of cum slowly trailed out of your entrance, his gaze moving up to see the mottled red and purple marks he had made all over your skin.

After a couple of moments, Alhaitham snapped out of his daze as he was suddenly wracked with guilt. He leaned over you, reaching two fingers up to your neck, waiting breathlessly as he tried to find a heartbeat.

He shook his head as he finally found one, sighing to himself.

“I’m just being irrational. Of course I didn’t kill her.” He sighed, looking back and staring at your unconscious body. He drank in the marks on your skin, the slick that spilled out of you, proud that he was the only one to ever do this to you – who ever could do this to you.

For a moment, Alhaitham wanted to stay. He wanted to take care of you, to clean you up and hold you until he fell asleep. However, he quickly rid those thoughts from his head – he had a mission to complete.

Alhaitham slipped his pants and shirt back on, ignoring his disgustingly messy body as he began to walk out of the room. On the way out he picked up his cape, slinging it over his shoulder as he shut his bedroom door behind himself.

~~~

Kaveh was trying to figure out the best materials to use for the carpet of this foyer. He was an architect at heart, not an interior decorator – but this job paid well. The more jobs he took, the more he’d get paid, and then he’d finally be able to move out of Alhaitham’s hellish apartment.

The sounds of you and Alhaitham arguing grated against his ears, but he did his best to block them out – he felt bad for you. You were the same as Kaveh… you were also stuck living here, and you got just as infuriated as him by that damned scribe.

‘Stop it! Do you even care about leaving marks?’

Kaveh frowned, his head tilting to the side as he heard your shout come from the other room. He shook his head, deciding his brain was definitely in the gutter after what had happened between the three of you a week ago. There was certainly nothing lewd going on between the two of you… right?

‘Well, you’d look far better without those clothes.’

Kaveh’s eyes went wide. Alhaitham wasn’t really saying that to you, was he? Was this one of his perverse ways of giving compliments? Kaveh knew Alhaitham was bad at speaking to women, but he never expected something this bad to come from his mouth.

Then, he began to hear moans.

“That’s it, I’m taking more jobs so I can move out even faster!” Kaveh grumbled to himself, raking his fingers through his bangs as he tried his best to focus on the task at hand. “Ahh, yeah, the colors… which colors go best with ivory again…” He grumbled, talking out loud to try to drown out the very loud sexual behavior that had begun in the room next door.

However, when he began to hear the moans that came from Alhaitham, Kaveh dropped his pencil.

‘What are you- haaah~’

Kaveh couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t ignore the growing bulge in his pants, and slowly slipped his fingers beneath his clothes to take care of the problem.

~~~

“Kaveh, I need a favor.”

The blonde jumped up from his desk, quickly adjusting his clothes before turning towards Alhaitham with a stern frown on his face.

“What is it, Alhaitham?” Kaveh couldn’t hide the venom that dripped from his voice. “You stink of sex, you mongrel.”

“Stop acting like you don’t have ears, Kaveh.” Alhaitham retorted. “And stop acting like you weren’t enjoying yourself just now, either.”

Kaveh’s eyes widened with shock and indignation.

“Why you-”

“I need you to make sure Y/N stays here while I travel to Port Ormos.” Alhaitham sternly cut off his blonde roommate. “It’s not safe for her there. Last time she nearly got killed, and I can’t have her endangering herself again.”

Kaveh’s brows pinched together with confusion.

“Is it another one of those missions the Sages send you on? Don’t they usually send the both of you on the same mission?”

“It’s highly classified information.” Alhaitham responded bluntly. “But yes – I personally asked them not to send her on these missions anymore. I assured them that I would be enough.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s not going to like this when she finds out-”

“That’s why I’m leaving now. I plan to be long gone by the time she realizes.” Alhaitham cut Kaveh off once again. “And that’s why you have to do anything in your power to stop her from leaving the house.”

“I- what?” Kaveh questioned. “And you’re going to leave while smelling this foul?”

“That’s none of your business.” Alhaitham responded. “I’m entrusting her to you.”

The scribe merely walked away, as if Kaveh had already agreed to do such a heinous thing as keep you locked indoors for days on end.

Kaveh threw down his blueprints in anger, infuriated by the borderline unlivable environment of Alhaitham’s house. Then, he realized he had a deadline to meet, and awkwardly scrambled to pick back up his papers and opted to carry them out to the living room to finish them up in a different setting.

After about an hour, Kaveh was enjoying a hot cup of tea as he finished up another section of his commission. He heard the creak of a door opening – you were finally emerging from Alhaitham’s bedroom. Kaveh continued to scribble one last thing down with his free hand as he spoke to you.

“Good, you’re finally awake. Do you want some tea? I just brewed-”

Kaveh stopped mid-sentence as he looked up to see the state of you. His eyes went wide as he saw your messy hair, your bloody lips, and the purplish blotches of the hickeys Alhaitham had left all over your once-pristine skin. You were clinging to a bed sheet that you had loosely wrapped around your torso, your posture hunched over as if you were in pain.

“Archons, Y/N, you look like hel-”

“Where’s Alhaitham.” Your tone dripped with hatred.

“He’s gone.” Kaveh responded.

“He’s what?” Your eyes went wide. “I need to go after him.” You glanced around the living room.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave the house.” Kaveh responded.

“What?” You questioned, confused.

“Alhaitham said that if I let you leave the house, you’ll just go after him and endanger your life again.”

“Grrr, that BASTARD!” You exclaimed, spinning around and storming back into his bedroom, slamming the door shut so violently that it rattled the plates in the kitchen cupboards.

Kaveh let out a sigh of relief despite being seriously worried about the state of your body.

“At least she’s not trying to leave.” He sighed, trying his best to continue working on the paperwork.

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