#gmab

“𝐎𝐇, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘! 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 hold out on me, too? You should’ve told me you were coming!”

Essentially, your fate was sealed with two (three?) sentences— sentences that absolutely no version of reality could prepare you for. Because in what fucking world (out of the two you’ve been in) would Riddle Rosehearts be on top of you, smothering you in affections that would normally send him into cardiac arrest? Answer: NONE. So, what the fuck is all this?

There’s so many questions racing through your head all at once. Why is he dreaming about his hair being dyed? Why is he dreaming about being in a band with Chenya of all people? Why is he dreaming about his mother not being a cunt? 

Why is he dreaming about being in a RELATIONSHIP with you—?

If the real, lucid Riddle could realise this circus of a dream he’s having— you think he’d finally clock out of his shift of life. You, in all your confused, midly uncomfortable glory— strewn across his bed after practically being dragged off and tossed onto it. And him, straddling your waist, caging your legs in with his legs— arms around your neck and kissing you into oblivion.

‘Just kill me, just kill me, just kill me—’ Is what you would say if you could talk. But now, his mouth is on yours and you genuinely cannot get a moment to breathe. 

His lips trail down from yours in a feverish rush, scattering kisses along your jaw, the hollow of your throat, that one point of your collarbone that makes your head all fuzzy— And his grip only slides up to your neck and tightens— not choking you, per se (you think you’d kill yourself if he was that freaky), but enough to keep you from moving.

“Long distance is so torturous. Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you? Why did you have to go to that stupid school, anyway?” He murmurs against your skin, and you think you die inside a little. 

Theoretically… maybe you should lock in and try to get some kind of info out of this— so that you can wake him up…! But it’s kind of hard when the boy you’re just PLATONIC (keyword: platonic) friends with is rubbing up on you like he hasn’t had game for year— Oh, God. He’s sucking on your neck now. HELLO?

You flail an arm, trying to push his head away, but he only nestles closer, nuzzling into your chest with the desperation of a starved man. You were ninety-nine percent sure he was trying to unbutton your shirt with his teeth. Oh, brother. . .

Now, it’s not as if you’re not totally into this… but for the sake of Riddle— the REAL Riddle— you should NOT be entertaining this.

“Uh— Riddle, hi, hello, yes babe I missed you too!” You blurt out, craning your neck back as far as humanly possible. How do Vil and Neige act? How does Ace lie to a motherfucker’s face like a jackass? Because this is genuinely the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. “But you can’t just DRAG me away from everyone when you have guests over…! Aren’t you, uhm, excited to see Trey, too…?” 

Your words don’t seem to deter him in the slightest. If anything, he pulls back just long enough to flash you a grin so ridiculously lovesick you almost want to call the nurse. “Oh, forget about them! They’re not going anywhere, anyways. Can’t I love up on you in peace?”

WHAT THE FUCK. Riddle would NOT say this?? Why is he mischaracterising HIMSELF in his own dream???

“…Buddy. You have some fucked up dreams.” You deadpan.

Riddle rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but just shut up and kiss me back, already.” His hand moves to your face, squishing your cheeks so hard your lips are forced into a pucker. Riddle giggles, tilting his head at the sight— before placing a series of chaste pecks right to the center. 

. . .Right. So. Your dignity officially jumps out the window the moment he starts making little mwah, mwah, mwah noises against your lips.

“Ohhh, you’re just so cute!” He croons, and you’re sure he’s damn near buzzing with excitement. “I could just eat you up. You’re so lucky our clothes are still on.”

HUUUUUUHHH?

“WHO is YOU?” Your mouth falls agape, and you shimmy backward until your back hits the grand headboard. You can’t keep up this charade, you genuinely can’t— “I THINK it’s time to go get to know your new bandmates better— you know, the guys waiting in your living room—?! Let’s just—”

“Oh, don’t tease me!” Riddle exclaims, falling into your lap with such a dramatic flair you can hardly believe you’re not the one dreaming here. “I missed you so, so, so much! Please? Just kiss me back once, baby? Pleaseee—!”

There are… even more questions in your head, now. Is he… begging to let him hit? Why is he desperate in his own fucking dream? …WHY is he BEGGING you to LET HIM HIT?

“…If I kiss you, will you go back downstairs and talk to the others?”

“Ugh, I guess…”

Gang. Genuinely, why is he mischaracterising himself? Like unironically? What the hell is going on?? You know it’s just because he’s in a dream Malleus created… but Malleus could NOT possibly be blamed for ALL of this.

So you do just what you promise. You take his face into your hands and you kiss him. One firm, proper kiss.

But unfortunately, Riddle is just big and greedy. One big, gargantuan, gluttonous beast— one that could rival even the fatty Riddle in Trey’s dream. Because one kiss is not enough to satisfy your… temporary boyfriend…?

The second your lips meet his, it’s safe to say he positively devours you. As if the act of you initiating it had greenlighted all of his perverted needs. He surges forward like a drowned man finally given air, hand sliding up sporadically to cradle your jaw. Now, his body is flush against yours, encasing you against the mahogany word of his bed.

You groan despite yourself, surprised at his boldness. It’s a sound that makes Riddle shiver atop of you, and he deepens the kiss instantly— swallowing every noise you make. His thighs clamp tighter around your waist, hips rolling against yours in an action you’re not even sure he’s aware of doing— but it sends a warm feeling between your own thighs nonetheless. 

“Mmgh— ah—!” The little sounds slip out of you whether you like it or not, your hands fisting his shirt as he drags his mouth down to your throat again. He sucks, biting lightly, then laves the sting with his tongue. 

It makes you squirm— you can’t help but do it. But his arms only coil around you, locking you in place.

“Oh, blast… I can’t keep it to just a kiss.” He pants, voice breaking into something whiney and needy. “You’ll let me have more, won’t you? Tell me you will— I need you… I need you right now… right here—!”

It’s all a mess. Hot, sloppy, and just plain greedy. He moans into your mouth and he barely lets you gasp for air— everytime you break away just ends in being pulled in for more— tilting your face just so, thumb brushing over your cheek as if he can’t stop himself from doting on you.

“Fuck, Riddle! Behave yourself—?!” You gasp, feeling his hand trail beneath the hem of your skirt. It’s a gesture far too obscene for the Riddle Rosehearts to be making— but… shit, he certainly drives a hard bargain. However, at the end of the day. . .

You’re lucid, and he’s dreaming. So you do the responsible thing and wrench him off of you, sneaking one last kiss before it.

But seeing the poor pout on his cute face and the obvious tent in his pants… There's only one question you have, now;

When he does wake up… will he agree to continue this?