#ghostblade x reader

Dragon Boy

“Ready?” Your face pops into view above Dragon Boy as he lays on the platform meant to transport him into the arena.

“Ready to win.” He sends you a sharp-toothed smile, sitting up as you kneel down beside him.

“Think you can beat X?”

“Are you doubting me?” You roll your eyes, just thinking about how the last time he faced X had him landing in the river and returning to you sopping wet. Now’s not the time to bring that up though.

Hooking a finger under his collar, you bring him into a kiss just to get him to shut up. His hand on the back of your head keeps you close. Just as you feel his tongue push into your mouth, the buzzer signaling the start of the tournament sounds. You manage to pry yourself away despite him not letting up at all.

“Aw, you're no fun." He receives a light hit to the shoulder for sass.

“I’m not having this platform sent out there while you’re still sucking my face off.” You get to your feet and hurry off, hearing him call out after you.

“You better be cheering for me!”

Little Johnny

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your boyfriend so laser focused. He doesn’t seem to be paying any mind to his son jumping around excitedly in his lap.

"Hey?" You poke him in the side, and Big Johnny squeals when his dad jolts like he's just been shocked.

"What was that for?" Little Johnny whines. It wasn’t a hard poke, but he’s rubbing his side like you just jabbed him.

"You're spacing out when you're supposed to go out there in a couple minutes." Is he nervous? The Ruins Incident, jumping into the top ten, transferring from FOMO to DOS. Things have been complicated recently.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be rooting for you. And Big Johnny will be out there to help you too.” You try to be reassuring, but when he turns to you, eyes meeting yours, it's not worry you see.

"Do you think my dad's watching?" Something fierce tugs on your heartstrings. Your hand finds its way to his, weaving your fingers together.

"I'm sure he is and that he's very proud of you." He leans his forehead against yours, and you rest a little easier watching some of the doubt flee from his eyes.

Ghostblade

"Want me to hold onto that for you?" The assassin tucks away the photo of his daughter into his journal before handing it to you, watching as you handle his possession with the utmost care.

"Ready?"

He nods. That's his usual reply to you, but it's not like there's anything else he can say. You do your best to read his facial features, but that’s harder to do when he’s wearing his mask. You confidently nod back.

"Hang on." You reach to brush his hair a little more out of his face. "Got to make sure all those cameras can get your good side, right?"

You expect another nod, but get arm around your shoulders, pulling you in until your forehead hits his chest. His cloak enshrouds you as you both sit comfortably in the silence.

It’s disappointing when the starting buzzer sounds and you have to part, but he gives you a wave before being sent out into the arena. You send a small wave back along with all your hopes that he pulls out a win.

Maybe it’s because of how his “affection” evolved after Lan left. When keeping an eye on Nuonuo from a distance was the closest thing he could have to a relationship with her. When that became the only thing he did outside of work. When keeping notes on her became an almost compulsive obsession rather than fatherly duty.

He treats you similarly, especially after meeting you under similar circumstances to how he met Lan. When he was that young, that unaffected, he had no idea how horrifying it was supposed to be to someone you care for so deeply go through something so scary, even if he was right there, even if he saved you himself. And since he can’t do anything about this feeling with Nuonuo, he dotes on you instead.

There’s a tracker on your phone, in your purse, and sewed into your favorite coat, not that Yi lets you go anywhere alone. Not that you have much a drive to go out, where the noise is so unbearable for the two of you. One of his favorite ways to waste time during stake outs is to watch you sit in bed or on the couch through the cameras set up around the apartment or flip through his notebook of all his observations and anecdotes about you. He loves finding connections between you and Nuonuo, whether it’s things you’ve both done or common interests. It makes him feel closer to the both of you, and serves as reassurance that Nuonuo would love you, whenever she’s able to meet you.

Though, Yi knows far more about you than he knows about his daughter. For one, you’re able to tell him things. He has pages of notes on your thought processes, notes he wouldn’t get just watching. He also has pages of notes on your more private interests, from both looking through your internet history and participating in them himself.

Since quitting MG, he’s had even more time to indulge these interests of yours.

Yi’s physical libido isn’t the highest, but he does relish in the reactions he can pull out of you. Fortunately for him, you’re of a similar disposition. You’ve told him your favorite part is how all his attention is zeroed in on you (as if it ever isn’t, he thinks to himself). Being the sole focus of such a deadly hero makes you feel safe but on edge. He’d never truly hurt you, you both know this, but “who knows what Ghostblade is capable of?”.

Some of your most endearing reactions are when he’s fucking you with one of his dull knives to your throat. Your legs always wrap around him so tightly he can barely move. He finds this helps him, incidentally. The pressure of your body is grounding against his anxieties of all the noise that accompany sex. Even with the little noise canceling wireless earbuds you got him, the prospect of sound is always intimidating.

He likes to hold the knife in a way that lets him rest his arm on your chest, so he can feel the pound of your heart under your skin. It’s always so intense and erratic. He’ll put all his weight on his other arm, use it to pull your hair to make you bare your neck to him. There’s never any fear in your eyes. Like you trust such a ruthless killer to keep you safe.

He always starts slow, so he can wait until all he can hear is the blood rush in his head to lax control a little bit. It muffles the sound of the skin hitting wet skin, so he can focus on way you feel and look until he can hardly hear anything but your occasional sharp breath or cut off squeals.

It’s cute, the effort you put into being silent for him. You dont want to add to the already polluted air. The look on your face is always downright adorable when you lose control over it. You go from scratching at his back and arms to slapping a hand over your mouth as your body drowns in pleasure while your mind stays focused on his wellbeing. Your eyes always look concerned for him when they aren’t rolled back in your head.

It always draws him back to all the footage he has of you touching yourself when home alone, when you allow yourself to be as loud as you want; your expression is always so blissed out like that. Not a care in the world.

He wants you to look like that with him. he wants to feel you like that.

It’s taken a lot of mental effort to get to this point. Yi got a therapist, for gods sake. To learn how to talk now that he’s cut down on hero work and his plummeted trust value shouldn’t hold him back. Relying on text wasn’t cutting it for him anymore, he’d realized, when he found his jaw aching not in the desire to bite you but to speak, something he’d never really wanted before you.

You’d suggested sign language before, after his first attempt to speak to you resulted in an anxiety attack so severe he threw up. It made him feel like a child to be so affected by something so simple.

(The last time he tried to speak, he realized as he heaved over the toilet as you rubbed his back, was when Lan had asked for a divorce. When Lan asked for a divorce because she wanted their baby to have a father that could speak to her rather than recoil at the noise she made. When Lan left him as she concluded he’d never get the words out, hero or not.

He never realized the memory of her leaving their apartment was burned into his mind the same way the memories of his old family’s home was- how speaking only meant frivolous emptiness or heartbreaking rejection- until you stayed with him after.

He loves you, he knows. He loves you the best his disordered mind can. But he loves you so much, he wants to meet you in the middle, for his ‘love’ to reach out and touch yours.)

Today, he has you heaving with both hands slapped over your mouth, elbows incidentally pushing your tits together and accentuating the drying blood smeared across your chest after Yi cut a small, shallow heart into your sternum and ‘encouraged’ you to keep still. The bedsheets under your pretty naked body are drenched from your desperation. Every time Yi’s knife would draw blood he’d counter the pain with fast circles over your clit- but he wouldn’t let you cum. Not yet.

Yi’s thumbs spread the lips of your pussy before thrusting the tip of one in just to fuck with you. The sensation of something inside you after what’s felt like hours has you squirming from side to side, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you work to keep your sounds contained.

He focuses on you. Not his straining cock as he pulls down his boxers, not his real goal for tonight. All he thinks about is the way your legs jump as he pushes his tip in, the tension in your body heightening at the intrusion. His pace is agonizingly slow as he works his way in fully.

Any noise you make is suppressed under your hands when his hips meet yours. You’re looking up at him with big watery eyes and his jaw fucking aches. He spends a long moment staring at you, longer than he intends to, as you break his trance trying to move your hips against his, to get more delicious friction. Your face is pleading with him now, eyebrows curved together.

Yi adjusts his hips and gives one hard thrust against that spot that has your eyes roll back when he hits it just right. The way your knuckles stress under how hard you’re pushing down on your mouth has him gritting his teeth in frustration.

(You’re trying to hard to achieve a goal that has always been unattainable; a goal his constitution pressured you into seeking.

You should’ve never been silent. You accommodate him so much, in ever aspect of your life, and all it does is shrink you down.

Yi doesn’t want you silent. He wants you authentic. Unashamed. Unrestrained. His greatest act of love- and dominance, in this case- could be to keep you from holding back. You wanted his all. It’s time he takes your all, too.)

His big hands grab both of yours and pull them up above your head as he gives you a second delirium-inducing thrust. Your little squeal comes out deliciously clear before you choke down the sound, eyes wide and anxious.

You try to tug your hands back but Yi is much stronger. You can’t keep quiet like this. Both of you know it.

Your expression becomes shocked as Yi’s mouth opens. His throat tightens at the effort to get words out.

The only sound is his panting as he attempts to force his voice to work.

“…You want something?” You whisper.

Yi nods.

“You want-“ your teeth clack from your desperation to close your mouth fast enough at his unexpected thrust.

Yi shakes his head even as your eyebrows turn up in confusion. His other hand pulls at your jaw, coaxing it open, and nodding enthusiastically when you comply.

You’re still confused, anxious even. Another solitary thrust has you choking on air and Yi shaking his head in response.

Yi mouths the words this time, but it’s still empty air.

His urgency is worrying you.

“you hate noise-“ you’re still whispering.

Yi tries the words one last time, pushing his forehead into yours, like his thoughts can transfer through skin and tissue and bone. He presses his thumb into the skin around the cut on your chest.

Not yours. Not your noise.

You are love. You are my heart.

Something must’ve worked because you look stunned. Yi lets you wiggle one hand free to grab the hand pushing on your wound. Your fingers intertwine on your sternum.

“You like my-“ you’re still whispering.

Yi presses his forehead to yours harder.

You swallow, try again, this time at a normal volume, “You like my noise?”

You’re rewarded with his hips pistoning and hands squeezing yours. Your surprised squeak has the hand he restrained you with shooting down to circle your clit. Any anxious restraint has him bearing down on your body harder, forcing your knees to your chest to bracket his heart that he gave you, narrowing your vision until all you can see is him. Yi is breathing hard, eyes wide, more desperate than you’ve ever seen him.

Yi, naturally, has never been vocal during sex. He hasn’t spoken in over twenty years. Mouthing words felt pointless if there was no voice to complete the action, but now it’s like he can’t stop. It’s hard to read his lips with the way his mouth and hips are moving at a hundred miles an hour, but what you’ve managed to decipher has been a nonstop barrage of praise.

Yi’s life was gray as a child, when Lan left, when Nuonuo was hurt, when all that he thought he had left was the chart topping assassin persona that locked him in the same soulless dynamic from home with Rock.

It brightened when “Ghostblade” offered him a way out of that house, when he met Lan, when she had Nuonuo, when he met you. When you loved him as he was. As you continue to allow him to love you his way.

He needs you to know that.

I love you.

Even if he never gets the words out.

I love you.

Wang Yi will never let something precious slip through his fingers again. He will never let it exist just out of reach. This treasured foreign feeling will be nurtured and protected. He will not make the same mistake twice.

I love you.

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