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ghostedbunnie · 5 months ago

Text

nightmare in the daylight

knight!ghost x fem!reader

based on my prompt that you can find here.

warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶

Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.

The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.

After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.

The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”

A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.

After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.

Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.

“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.

You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly.

"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.

"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.

"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.

“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.

“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in.

“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach.

With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.

His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.

His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.

You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.”

You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.

“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.”

If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.

You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.

“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.

Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”

At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.

Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.

taglist: @a66-1 , @ghostlythots , @rttxcmt , @september-22-1998 , @fluffysmiko , @gyusbrownie , @bumblebeesfromvenus , @magicalforestcat , @nommingonfood , @tami-doodles , @fateisnotafactor , @m-a-l-a-c-z-a-r-n-a , @nicolebarnes , @msdevil333 , @lilpothoscuttings , @tealeaftallulah , @not-reptilian , @moonfloweronmars , @aliceinwonderland-5678 , @marshmelloe , @i-love-you-just-the-same, @lazyperfectioniste , @tragedyinwaves , @thisisforthebest97 , @talkingcorn , @hxnneydew , @resplendantrosewood , @telvannitea , @the-casual-act , @hello-lemons, @kiwicopia , @just-a-sewer-goblin

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #x reader insert #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #bunnie writes #tw noncon #tw dubcon #simon riley x reader #cod smut

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radiance1 · 7 months ago

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When the Justice League heard of Phantom, they believed they had to act quickly. Based on what they were told by the GIW, a branch of the government they had no knowledge of previously (Batman is working to correct that), the ghost was dangerous and extremely powerful.

A ghost that terrorized a small town that they GIW have tried-and failed- on numerous occasions to send back to the Ghost Zone. The GIW wouldn't have come to the Justice League for help if it were just that, but based on what they have claimed Phantom has achieved an inexplicable rise in power after having met with the King of ghosts himself.

If what they say is true, then ghosts could potentially invade and cause an all-out war with humanity that the Justice League would rather much avoid thank you.

Negotiations for peace or understanding have been repeatedly rejected and the GIW has been led to believe that Phantom has done something to the Fenton couple. The leading ecto-biologists in the world, years of research suddenly wiped clean off and acting much more cordial towards the ghost.

A complete 180.

So much so that you could even claim them to have been mind controlled. Which isn't outside the realm of possibility due to ghosts having an innate ability to overshadow others and control them.

Perhaps even the entire town has fallen under Phantom's control. Even another ghost, who had just been recently opposed to Phantom, has fallen under his control.

So the Justice League had to act fast.

---

Danny was fucked.

He could tell that very, very well. He still didn't have his entire new... dragon thing... under control very well, mostly sticking a half human like form. His powers were stronger yes but he couldn't really control them well.

Which is kinda why he's fucked.

Danny has never heard about the Justice League before, mostly because he had recently found out that apparently Amity Park was isolated. Like, extremely. Basically it's own little world cut off from the rest.

So when they appeared with the GIW he thought, hey, maybe they were finally changing their white suit shtick.

He didn't expect them to be extremely well-trained, have supernatural abilities or magic. Along with their usual tech well.

Yea.

Danny was fucked.

And he was very, very scared.

He's already died once but that didn't mean he wanted to die again, and he knows that he would probably be heavily experimented on if the GIW actually got their hands on him.

He was alone. He was surrounded. He was outnumbered. And he was oh, so very scared.

His family and friends had already fallen (thankfully not dead, just unconscious he thinks) and Vlad was occupied elsewhere, also fighting.

So Danny was alone.

No one would be coming to help him.

So what did he do?

He opened his mouth and did something he didn't do often. Despite that he could see that they somewhat recognized what he was about to do and tried to find cover.

Danny wasn't aiming at them.

He pulled his head back, mouth aimed at the sky.

Danny wailed.

It was waaaay more powerful than he had originally thought, so he was glad he aimed it at the sky.

As soon as it was over he felt drained, swaying on his feet and trying to use his tail to steady himself and not fall off his own claws.

They didn't know what was happening.

Danny just hoped it worked.

---

Neither the Justice League nor the GIW knew why Phantom shot one of his most powerful attacks up into the sky, but they did see the opportunity it presented.

Phantom was weak. Looking like he would fall off his own feet and fall unconscious.

They had to act quickly.

But before they could, from right where Phantom had wailed into the sky.

It cracked.

And continued to crack.

Until a large hole appeared in the sky, leading into a dimension of endless green.

The Infinite Realms.

They believed Phantom was trying to retreat.

They were wrong.

Two roars came from the portal, forcing everyone to cover their ears.

Then.

Something came out of the portal.

A long, serpentine dragon flowed out, flying around the area of the crack before descending down and around Phantom.

Then.

A giant claw grabbed onto the edge of the crack. Pushing against it until it broke, forcing the hole bigger and bigger as a much, much larger dragon stepped out. Standing protectively over the serpentine dragon and Phantom.

A large crown wrapped in flame floating about its head signified its status.

The Ghost King.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #Ghosts are dragons #I think that's the tag #ghost prince danny #Ectoplasm isn't Kryptonite by the way #So none of that here #Redeemed Vlad #Well more like semi but that's in the background #Dark ages #Protectively dragon parents about to potentially fuck shit up #If the Justice League don't manage to parley their way out of this

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dollgxtz · 6 months ago

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Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

#umi writes ♡︎#sylus x reader #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds smut #lads #lads smut #lads fic #lads scenarios #l&ds sylus #l&ds #love and deep space x reader #l&ds x reader #sylus x reader fic #love and deep space smut #lads sylus

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luv4freddie · 1 year ago

Text

Fools - T.N

in which the only Hufflepuff friend in the group of slytherins develops a crush on Theodore Nott— something only fools do.

fem!hufflepuff reader, bff Pansy, use of euphemisms and teasing yn for being innocent but sfw, reader is very emotional, jealous theo, 2800 words

"Y/n!!"

After a year, you'd think that people would get used to seeing the same Hufflepuff go over to the Slytherin table, but alas, half the Great Hall turned to watch you approach the table and take a seat next to Pansy.

She sticks her middle finger up behind your back, aiming it at all of the people who are still staring, and they quickly turn away. It was an unlikely friendship, but she was not going to let anyone make you feel bad about it.

"About time you get here," Draco huffs, "I've had to hear Pansy's 'girl talk' while you were sleeping."

You smile sheepishly at him, you had taken your sweet time this morning, hitting snooze a few times before listening to your favorite record and doing more singing than actually getting ready— resulting in you being extra late to breakfast.

"Sorry, Draco."

"Don't apologize yn, he doesn't deserve it."

You can hear the teasing lilt in Theo's voice from across the table, and Draco throws a handful of grapes at him.

"Whatever," Pansy turns her back to them, "did you hear, apparently the Hufflepuff chaser has a crush on you."

Your eyes flit between her face and your hands, and you wonder where she got her information from.

The boys around you seem to perk up at this, and Draco chides Pansy for deeming that piece of information unimportant compared to all her other, much more useless, girl talk this morning.

"Where on Earth did you hear that?" You cut in, not enjoying the way everyone is suddenly interested in your (nonexistent) love life.

"From a very trustworthy source," is all she'll give away, and you cringe.

"Can we change subjects, please?"

Theo narrows his eyes at you, as if he's searching your face for something.

"You don't care about it then? You're not jumping at the chance to ride his broom?"

The Slytherins around you snicker at his euphemism, but you go bright red.

"I- what! Why would you say- no!"

This only makes them laugh harder, but Pansy collects herself enough to place a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Don't worry, we all know our little puff would never."

You slap her hand away, upset at them treating you like a child.

"Well if you guys are only gonna tease me, I'm gonna go back to my own table."

"Y/n, we didn't mean-" Theo starts, but he's still got a smirk on his face, so you ignore him, leaving before he can try and stop you.

You take a seat at your own house table, and the Hufflepuffs around you immediately welcome you into their conversation.

You don't know why it bothered you so much. They were right, you weren't going to be "riding someone's broom" anytime soon, but hearing the way they talked about it— like you were just some silly, innocent baby— really bugged you.

If you were being honest with yourself, you also knew that deep down you've been repressing feelings for Theodore, because you knew enough stories about him to know it would never work. He was a heartthrob, and had no issue finding girls to entertain him at night— to him you were just a little girl. That conversation was just more proof. There's no way he'd be interested in you.

You unintentionally make eye contact with Zacharias Smith when you finally get out of your head, but you immediately look away, turning back to your friends just as Hannah asks about your Christmas plans.

You don't see your Slytherin friends again until Charms class, and Pansy immediately brings up what happened at breakfast.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that. I don't want you to feel bad, that's just how we are."

You give her a tight lipped smile, shrugging your shoulders. You've realized that most of the anger came from the realization that Theo probably saw you as a child, not actually their teasing.

"No biggie, it's forgiven."

She eyes you suspiciously but decides not to question it, instead starting to talk about her next party idea until she gets shushed when Professor Flitwick starts explaining directions.

You use the quiet moment to sneak a look at Theo, who's leaned back in his chair smirking at something Draco said next to him.

Pansy turns to you and you quickly shift your focus, but it appears she's already seen you. She gives you a raised eyebrow, and you play dumb, looking back at the teapot on your desk and trying to give it legs.

"What was that about back there?" Pansy asks as the two of you walk out together.

"I know it took me forever to get those stupid legs," you cringe, hoping to throw her off course.

"No I meant your staring."

You try not to look guilty, just shrugging your shoulders and explaining, "figured the boys might have figured it out faster. Should have known better."

She grins at that, muttering "you really should have." But something tells you she doesn't quite believe your story.

Your thoughts are only confirmed the next day when she invites you over to her dorm and then immediately suggests the two of you take veritaserum to play a game of truth or dare.

You let out a sigh.

"I'm not doing that Pans, just ask me whatever you want to know."

She grins, "you know me so well."

"Unfortunately," you tease, and she slaps your arm but asks her question anyway.

"Do you have a crush on Draco?"

Her face drops into confusion when you start laughing hysterically.

"That's what you thought? Merlin, you had me scared for no reason. No Pans, I absolutely do not have a crush on Draco."

She lets out a small sigh of relief, but you can tell she's a little peeved you laughed at her.

"Well what was I supposed to think? You got all grumpy yesterday when we were teasing you about your love life, and then the staring. It was either that or you're secretly in love with Nott, which, lets be for real."

She leaves it at that, but your cheeks flush pink. Be for real what? Be for real, he'd never want you? Be for real, what universe would the two of you work out? Be for real, he hates you?

The thoughts keep coming one after another, and suddenly your vision is blurred.

"Hey, woah, what's wrong?"

You cursed Pansy for being so observant.

"Nothing, I think my allergies are acting up." You say, but there's sadness in your voice, and there's an inch of snow outside, which isn't exactly pollen friendly.

"Don't lie to me y/n."

"I'm sorry for being so stupid and emotional." You cry, and Pansy rubs your back slowly.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being emotional! You don't see us do it much, but a lot of that's got to do with how we were raised. I wish I felt things as deeply as you do."

Your tears seem to slow, and she smiles.

"Now as for stupid, that depends on where that fit came from."

You look up at her in embarrassment, more hot tears threatening to fill your eyes.

"I... what did you mean?" You ask instead.

"Huh?"

"When you said be for real about me secretly being.." you couldn't bring yourself to say it, as if saying the words would make it true and something you could no longer push away and pretend wasn't there.

Realization dawns on Pansy's face, and she immediately wraps you up in a hug.

"Oh yn, it all makes sense now."

You continue to cry, and she looks at you with what you assume is pity in her eyes.

"I know, I'm such a fool! I know it would never happen, I know half of Hogwarts has a crush on him, I know he'd never want a girl like me." All of the things you'd been keeping to yourself and secretly thinking come spilling out of your mouth, and Pansy rubs your back while you continue to cry.

"Hey don't talk like that! Theo doesn't care about those people, and I know he cares about you. Not to mention, "a girl like you"? You're the exact type of girl that Theo needs. He practically never smiles the way he does when you're around. Just calm down okay?"

You nod through your cries, finally settling down as Pansy throws a magazine at you and the two of you lay across her bed.

Unknowingly, you end up falling asleep, tired from the amount of crying you did. Pansy notices but decides not to wake you, heading down to the common room where the guys would be getting back from quidditch practice soon.

When you wake up the room is dark, and a quick looks around reminds you you're in Pansy's room and not your own. You check the bathroom attached to the dorm, and when no one is in there you head down to the common room, assuming that's where she's gone to.

The whole group is sat on leather couches and armchairs when you make it down the stairs, and you rub the sleep out of your eyes as you approach the group.

"There's our bella addormentata," Theodore purrs, and you immediately flush even though you only understand half of his phrase. (sleeping beauty)

"Sorry for falling asleep." You apologize as you take the seat Pansy offered you, coincidentally landing between her and the reason for your crying.

"Stop apologizing so much," Theo whispers in your ear, and you refuse to look at him in fear of him seeing exactly the effect he has on you. Instead you continue to look at Pansy.

"No biggie, you needed it after that." She says, and you nod.

"After what? What happened?" Draco asked, ever the nosy weasel.

Pansy looked at you, obviously waiting for you to answer so she could go along with whatever you say.

You consider lying, but figure there's no point. They all know you're an emotional person, no one would find it unusual.

"I- uh- cried a little bit. Tired me out."

The boys (that you can see) all nod their heads in understanding and decide to switch topics, finally letting you relax.

However, since you'd turned your back to Theo, that now meant when you leaned back to get comfy you leaned directly into his chest, as he had one arm on the back of the couch behind you.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" You whisper, shooting back up and speaking only to him in an attempt to not draw attention from the others.

"Don't be silly," he says back, pulling your shoulders so you're back in the relaxed position against him, "you're welcome in my arms any day ragazza dolce." (Sweet girl)

You flush red again, but this time you do look up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.

"You know I have absolutely no idea what you're saying, right?"

He grins, "that's part of the fun."

"Whatever," you turn back away from him to look at the group, your head resting right over his heart, "as long as you're not calling me a troll."

"I promise I'm not." He says, ruffling your hair before the both of you rejoin the main conversation.

"Zacharias Smith was at our practice today," Draco tells Pansy, and she looks at him in surprise.

"Really? Maybe he was looking for yn. She does sometimes keep me company in the stands."

"Oh he definitely was." Blaise smirks, and you feel Theo tense behind you. "Walked right up to Theo and asked where the pretty little one we're always hanging out with was."

"What?" Pansy shrieks, looking over, although you're unsure if the intentional target was you or the boy behind you. Her eyes momentarily widen at seeing your position before she notices something and smirks.

"Theo," she drawls, "I didn't notice those cuts on your knuckles earlier, is that new?"

Everyone turns to look at Theo, and you sit up in alarm, turning to look at his hand that's laying behind your spot on the couch.

"Theo! What happened? Why didn't you go get this checked out?"

He averts his eyes from your gaze. "Just wasn't thinking about it," he shrugs.

You frown. "How could you not be thinking about it, that looks painful!"

He shrugs again, grimacing when you grab his hand, insisting he let you heal it.

"Just let me go get my wand okay? I left it in Pansy's room."

You get up to leave, and with your back turned you don't see Pansy whisper to Theo and then him get up and follow you.

"I'll just come with." He announces, following you back to your friends room.

You try not to think about the intimacy of being alone with Theo while you tend to his wounds, trying once again to shove all your feelings down far in your heart.

Thankfully none of Pansy's roommates had come back, and Theo sits on her bed while you grab your wand from her nightstand before standing in between his spread legs.

"Give me your hand."

He complies, and you try not to blush at the warmth of his, much bigger, hand resting on your own.

"This is nasty Theo, did you punch a wall or something?" You ask, beginning to heal a few of the cuts. Luckily most of them were clean from where he'd washed them when he showered after practice, but they were scabbed over and his knuckles were blue with beginning to form bruises.

He lets out an amused huff of laughter and you stop your ministrations, looking up at him immediately.

"Tell me you didn't actually punch a wall."

He shrugs, "it was either that or Smith, and I know you don't like when I get into fights."

You feel yourself heat up. He didn't hit someone because of your preference, and the person just happened to be the guy who supposedly has a crush on you.

"Well I'm glad you didn't send my housemate to the hospital wing at least, although I wish you wouldn't have hurt yourself," you sigh, continuing to heal his hands.

Out of nowhere he pulls it away.

"Theo?"

"Look, I-" he cards a hand through his hair, contemplating his next words. "I didn't like it that Smith came looking for you. Especially that he asked me."

You look at him in confusion, "what? Why?"

He looks distraught, but he can't help the crooked smile that etches itself on his face.

"You're damn oblivious, you know that?"

You continue to look at him, no thoughts behind your eyes.

"Uh, I mean I guess? I've been told that a few times, though I'm not sure how it's pertinent to this situation."

Suddenly Theo's hands are on your cheeks, and his face is inches from your own.

"What- what are you doing?"

"I want to kiss you." He states plainly, as if it's the most normal thing in the world— as if the five words didn't have you spiraling out of control.

"Wait- do you want to kiss me because you think I'm like pretty or do you want to kiss me because you like me?"

You'd never even thought he would consider you pretty, but at his words you had to rethink a lot of things you thought you knew.

"I like you, amorina." (Little love)

"Really?" You know you should be celebrating, but you can't help the doubt that creeps into your mind. "You don't think I'm a silly, innocent, little Hufflepuff?"

He grins, "you can be my silly little Hufflepuff. And no I don't care that you're not jumping at the opportunity to go broom hopping."

You can't help but laugh a his phrasing, but you're glad he knew what you meant.

"I like you, amorina, I don't care about anything else, as long as I get you."

You smile, and Theo swears he could die happy if it's the last thing he sees.

"Well in that case, I want you to kiss me too."

He can barely hold back his own smile as he places his lips on yours, cradling your jaw with one hand while the other holds your hip.

He kissed you gently, not at all like what you'd expected, but you feel his adoration flowing out of it, and you can't help but break it to let out a giggle.

"And to think I was crying over you a few hours ago."

He grins, standing up and grabbing your hand to walk back down to the common room together, where your friends were waiting for you to go to dinner.

"No more crying over me okay?"

You nod your head, and he pulls you in for one more kiss before you rejoin the rest of your friends.

#theodore nott #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fluff #slytherin boys #theodore nott angst #slytherin x hufflepuff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n

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flufftober · 7 months ago

Text

🍂 🍃 Hello and welcome to our fourth annual Flufftober 🍂 🍃

We’re so excited to be back and have you here once again!

As always, let’s fill the month of October with as much fluff as possible 🥰 for that to happen, you can either use our 31 regular prompts or enjoy a little challenge 😏

Below the cut, you'll find all our rules, posting info, and all the prompts in writing. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us an ask.

And now, for the challenge...

Prompt Extras

We love to see how many of you get inspired by our prompts every year - be it by the original list or the Prompt Extras. Once again we're offering you that option and you're more than welcome to replace prompts from the original list if they don't work for you for whatever reason - no explanation needed.

As has become tradition, we offer you last year's top five fan favorites (as voted in the end survey). In addition to that, we also offer a little challenge: five angsty prompts for you to turn fluffy!

If you don't want to replace any prompt from the original list but still love the additional ones - or you simply want to challenge yourself even further - you can also mix them all together!

So in whichever way you use these Prompt Extras, have fun with them and go wild 💚

We hope you like these prompts, and now

Happy Creating 🥳

Standard Blog Rules & FAQ

Addendum: We do not allow AI creations of any kind.

(Due to previous asks, we made sure to add more points to this section - while they're not new rules, they're newer to this list, so you'll find them colored green)

No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship. No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It's aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that has grey areas, the rule is this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalities of the world/society/times your characters live in.

No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.

Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.

There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.

In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gif sets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…). If you would like to create a podfic, the fic you're using does not have to be new - your creation will be new!

You can mix and mash different mediums however you like, be it within one prompt or on different days.

While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉 that, of course, doesn't mean you can't combine it with angsty/whumpy prompts - hurt/comfort is absolutely welcome!

You can start creating as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.

If you post early, we will schedule your post for the correct day; if you use multiple prompts in one creation, we will post on the earliest day you used.

You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.

You can replace as many original prompts as you like with our prompt extras; you can also combine them with the original prompts or create for them in addition, that's completely up to you.

It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts.

You do not have to stick to one character, ship, or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.

The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)

Original works as well as OCs in fandoms are welcome! But please make sure to mark these clearly, either in the tags or the post itself. We're not familiar with all fandoms (though we're definitely learning a lot!), so we're not always sure what might be an OC and what might be such an unknown side character not even Google can find them...

Reader insert fics (for example "character x reader") as well as RPFs are absolutely allowed.

Other languages are also welcome - just make sure to clearly mark the day and fandom so that we can still easily reblog.

This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.

Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months or years later.

All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.

Posting

Posting to tumblr

Please use the tag #flufftober2024 Please make sure there is NO SPACE between flufftober and 2024! We will NOT be checking the other tag this year!

Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also mention us with @flufftober in your post

We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late

If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post

To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #flufftober2024 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]

If you're using a prompt extra tag it as #alt [number]

Posting to ao3

You can add your creation to the collection Flufftober 2024 (either as flufftober2024 or as flufftober_2024)

Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...

Prompts

1. Lost Pet Meet Cute

2. “Left. Other left!”

3. Favorite Scent

4. Market Day

5. Acorn, Chestnut, Pine Cone

6. Mistaken Identity

7. Hoodie Weather

8. Chopping & Piling Wood

9. “Don’t do that!” - “But…”

10. Bet, Game, Contest

11. Ingredients & Spells

12. “This is spooky.” - “Really?”

13. Attic, Cellar, Hidden Room

14. Fantasy AU/Mundane AU

15. “What are you wearing?” - “It’s laundry day!”

16. Yes, No, Maybe

17. Only One Bed

18. Bewitched

19. Yarn

20. Paw

21. Bonfire

22. Heirloom

23. Stormy Night

24. Comfort Food

25. Haunted House

26. “I can’t find it.”

27. Afternoon Stroll

28. Lucky Charm

29. Time Capsule

30. “Forever?”

31. Make a Wish

Prompt Extras

Last Year's Favorites

Alt 1: “I’ve got you”

Alt 2: Rainy Day

Alt 3: “Wait you love me?” - “I always have”

Alt 4: “I hate it” - “No, you don’t”

Alt 5: Porch Swing

Challenge "Make it Fluffy!"

Alt 6: Gravestone

Alt 7: Getting Revenge

Alt 8: Written but never sent

Alt 9: Suddenly Severed Communication

Alt 10: Rejected, Betrayed, Exiled, Left Behind

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dorabellingham · 4 months ago

Text

Little midfielder

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader

summary: when your baby wants to practice football but your husband is injured.

may contain spelling and translation errors!

Madrid, Spain — July 4, 2024

Benjamin, just two years old, was already obsessed with football. Every time he saw a ball, his eyes lit up and he started running after it, even though he was still learning to shoot.

Today, with the sun illuminating the yard, he held his mini soccer ball with determination, ready to convince his dad to play with him. Jude was sitting on the couch, with his leg stretched out and still in the process of recovering from his last injury, trying to follow the doctor's recommendations. He knew he needed a little more patience, but when Benji came running with the ball, his curls bouncing and an irresistible smile on his face, he felt his heart melt.

—Daddy, play, daddy!

Benji asked, holding the ball in both of his little hands and swinging it in front of his father. Jude looked at his son and, for a second, hesitated. He knew he wasn't ready to return to intense physical activities yet, but it was just a game with his son, right? Nothing else. A smile formed on his face, and he sighed.

—Okay, Ben, let's go. But slowly, huh?

The boy, excited, started jumping, while the man slowly got up. You, who was nearby, gave a warning look.

—Jude... you know the doctor hasn't released it yet, right?

—I know, I know. —He replied, taking the ball from your son's hands and lightly throwing it to the little one. —But it's just a light game, nothing more.

Benji, of course, was over the moon. He chased the ball with all the energy a two-year-old could have, his quick, clumsy steps around the yard were adorable to watch. Jude, even though he was trying to take it easy, ended up kicking the ball back to him with a little more force than he intended. The little boy stumbled as he tried to catch the ball, but soon got up, laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

—Look at that kick! —He joked, pretending to be the game's narrator. —Bellingham father against Bellingham son... and the father is having trouble moving, but the son comes with everything!

You, watching from afar, shook your head, laughing at the way your husband was turning a little joke into a competition. Your baby, all concentrated, made a clumsy kick, and the ball went straight to Jude's feet. He tried to resist the attempt, but the player's instincts took over. He adjusted his foot and gently kicked back. Benjamin ran after the ball, aiming to show his father his skills.

—Look, daddy! I'm just like you!

He spoke with that sweet child's voice, making Bellingham's heart melt even more.

He sent it and bent down a little to be at the baby's height.

—You'll be better than me, little one. But only if mommy doesn't let me play with you too soon!

Benjamin, not understanding the joke, just laughed and continued running. You, on the other hand, crossed your arms and gave Jude a warning look.

—You know you should be resting.

—I know, darling! —He replied, laughing —But how am I going to say no to this little midfielder of ours here?

You sighed, but you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the two of them together.

—Just don't get too excited, okay? And, Benji, without hurting daddy, huh?

Benjamin laughed, not really understanding, and continued chasing the ball. But even with the caution Jude was taking, he began to feel a slight pain in his knee, which made him stop and lean lightly on the garden fence. You noticed it right away and went to him, worried.

—See? I knew this would happen.

—I'm fine, babe!

He replied, still trying to keep the smile, even though he was starting to feel more uncomfortable.

Benji, realizing that the game had stopped, ran to his father and, with those curious eyes, asked:

—Does it hurt, daddy?

Jude revealed and messed up his son's curls identical to his, but without a cut.

—A little, but dad will be fine. You played very well, Little Bellingham.

You, helping Jude to sit on the sofa in the garden, looked at the little one and said:

—Now it's time to give daddy a rest, okay, sweetheart? Let's play something else for now.

Benjamin, despite being sad to stop the game, agreed and ran around the yard with the ball again. Jude watched his son, with a mixture of pride and frustration at not yet being 100% recovered.

—He's going to be an ace, right?

He commented to you, who sat next to him.

—He will! —You replied, smiling. —But only if you stop hurting yourself and teach properly.

Jude chuckled.

—Yeah, I'm trying...I just need a little more time.

As you watched his son play, Jude knew he needed to take the recovery process seriously. He wanted to be able to play with your son, train with him without any limitations, but he also knew that this would only be possible if he was patient now. And as stubborn as he was, the smile on his mini copy's face was the perfect reminder of why it was worth waiting and doing things the right way.

#jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x you #dorabellingham #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #real madrid #jude bellingham x mom!reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagines #jb5 x fem!reader #jb5 x reader #jb5 #football x y/n #football x reader #football fanfic #football

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moody-alcoholic · 1 month ago

Text

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 7 - Well This Is Awkward

CW: Angst, mention's of alcohol, mentions of panic attack's, mental health, mentions of injuries, mentions of death.

Did I mention I like medical dramas?

Previous parts - masterlist - next

Your therapist is nice. You’ve been going to her for the past 3 months, you were only supposed to go for a single session. Then the army insisted on more. Johnny was sent home on medical leave a few days after you left. He came to see you and stayed the night.

The next morning you had to tell him to leave, it just wasn’t the same.

‘I’ll be staying at the house if you want to visit?’

Shit, you forgot about the house. The place you all pitched in to buy, so you all had somewhere to stay when you were on leave. Everyone’s flats are too small to accommodate all 5 of you. Besides, flat hopping everyday across London was expensive.

‘I’ll talk to John when he’s back.’ All you want back is the deposit.

“Do you feel guilty?” She asks you. It snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at her.

“No.” You say, she hums. You hate it when she does that. You don’t know why it is a particularly tough session. You just want to go home. “They hurt me. I don't feel guilty about that.”

“You left the unit though.” Bitch. “It’s okay to feel guilty about that.”

“Okay fine. I feel guilty about leaving Johnny and Kyle.” You snap back. Anything to get her to sign you off so you can go. You look up at the clock, you still have at least 40 minutes left in this season.

“Have you got your letter from the university yet?” She asks changing the subject. You nod. After a few weeks of crying on the bathroom floor and drowning yourself in bottles of vodka you decided to get your shit together.

“That’s good, what's the plan going forward?”

“I’ll be posted on a base somewhere where I can get hands-on experience in trauma care. With studying on the side.” You say without going too much into the complications.

“So the army is actively helping you, that's good.”

“Yeah I think they’re willing to do anything so long as I don’t sue them.” You scoff under your breath. She hums.

You don’t know how true that is, maybe it’s just something you tell yourself so you don’t feel so conflicted over how accommodating they’ve been. They’re paying your uni bills and even got you one some army teaching program aimed to fast track you through the ranks.

“What about Kyle and Johnny? Have you heard from them since you spoke to them last?” Fucking bitch. You sigh, turning away from her. The last time you spoke to them was almost a month ago. They text you from time to time, try to call you.

You’ve ignored them, so much that you feel like anything you say to them will just be meaningless.

“Yeah, they’re deployed.” You lie. She smiles. You look back up at the clock.

30 minutes to go.

______________________

Iraq is hot. That you expected but the hospital’s electricity is sketchy at best. You have to keep the air-con off to make sure the ventilators don’t cut out. The US built this place, you’re only supposed to be here for another week at least before you’ll move again.

As soon as the electric is fixed it will be handed over to the UN to run, until then it was getting a dry run as a combat hospital. Lots of blown off limbs and bullets to pull out people. Lots of death.

You told Johnny and Kyle where you were going when you got your placement. You’re trying to patch things up with them after basically leaving them on read for almost 3 months. Your therapist said it would be a good thing to do.

The sun is setting, you're sitting outside watching as it touches the top of the distant mountains. The place is busy, friendly forces are still pretty much living here. It’s the only safe zone in this part of the desert, why the UN wanted a hospital out here you’ll never know.

Something about re-urbanisation of previously controlled territories. You don’t care, you're here to pull bullets out of people and save lives. Other than your mentor-Dr. Sands-you’re the only other doctor on the base. Doctor is a loose term, you’re technically still a student, but you ace all your skills labs, and the army is begging for help apparently.

You let out a breath, finishing the rest of your drink and getting up and pulling your white lab coat on.

“Well, fancy seeing you ‘ere.” You hear a familiar thick accent behind you. You turn to see Johnny standing behind you.

What the fuck.

You’re hugging him before you can stop yourself. You see Kyle, John and Simon stood behind him. They’re all geared up, weapons slung over their chest or back.

You thought you would feel something when you saw them. Maybe you'd want to run, scream, cry, anything. You feel nothing, just numbness.

“What are you doing here?” You ask.

“Oh you know, Shepherd says jump, we say how high.” he says nudging you, it makes you smile and you shake your head.

“Finally going for the MD?” He asks, pointing at the student doctor tag on your coat.

“Yeah well, you like putting bullets in people. I like pulling them out.”

“Oh yeah not even the occasional love tap?” He jokes, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Only the bad guys.” You reply. You look up at Kyle who’s smiling. Then John and Simon.

“You look good.” John says.

“Yeah well that’s what 6 months of therapy will do to you.” It’s bitter, harsher than you expected it to be. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him in 6 maybe 7 months. He hasn’t changed a bit. He still smiles at you, his body language open, his hands on his hips.

Simon stands with his arms crossed, his presence is looming, making hairs stand up on the back of your neck.

“It’s good to see you again.” Kyle says, you nod at him.

“Oh when we’re back we should catch a bite to eat.” Johnny says enthusiastically, moving away over to Kyle.

“You can tell us what to avoid in the mess.” Kyle adds. You smile again. You go to open your mouth but your pager beeps. You look down at it. It’s the doctor.

“Yeah, when you’re back, come find me.” You say turning into the building.

“Stay safe!” Johnny calls.

“Yeah you too!” You call back pulling your radio off your hip. When you make it through the door you squeeze your eyes closed for a second and let out a long breath.

Now you hate this hospital even more.

______________________

It’s dark out now. You look over at the clock and it's almost midnight. You’re sat at the nurses station listening to them talk about whatever drama is going on in the next base. You still can’t believe you ended up in the same base as 141.

They’ll be gone soon, even Johnny seemed surprised, maybe he thought you’d be gone by now. Now you have to eat with them at some point. Johnny and Kyle at least.

The doctor left an hour ago to go to another base for a surgery. You’re used to this taking the night shifts. Normally you just sleep and get woken up a few times for the nurses to ask for medication changes. You’ve only ever had one trauma come in at night and the doctor was there to help you with the limited night time staff.

You tried to sleep but you couldn’t, you were restless trying to think about what they were doing here? Who were they after? How long would they be here? At least at the nurses station you can listen to the nurses and let their gossip distract you.

The red trauma phone rings. For a second you think it’s a joke, it’s the normal phone. Nope, the red light is flashing on it. You stand up picking it up.

“Trauma.” You say.

“Got one incoming, ETA 15 minutes. GSW to the chest, breathing unconscious. 30 year old male.” You hear an American voice say as you write it down. You don’t have time to worry or be nervous. This is what you live for, you let the adrenaline pump through you. It clears your mind as you take down the information.

“Copy, what’s the name?”

“Riley.” Your heart stops.

“Say again?”

“Riley, Simon Riley.”

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. You’re squeezing the phone in your hand, the pen has fallen to the floor. You look over at the nurses already pulling gowns on and getting into position in the resus bay.

You don’t even register saying copy and putting the phone back. You turn away from the nurses braising yourself on a filing cabernet.

Simon’s shot. All you can see is his face, his body covered in blood. He’s always so careful, he’s always the one dragging people out the field not getting shot. Something must have gone horribly wrong.

You weren't there. He’s shot and you weren't there to save him.

You suck in breaths of air, the adrenaline isn’t helping now.

“Doctor?” You hear one of the nurses call. You turn to look at them, you have to keep it together.

“Page the doctor.”

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aerieza · 2 years ago

Text

NEW PIERCING ☆ hobie brown

⠀ ⠀ ☆. warnings — black female reader. black coded. reader has a tongue piercing + pierced nipples. praising. backshots. male oral. nipple licking. creampie. pet names. reblogs & comments are always appreciated! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

as you watched the new season of never have i ever from the comfort of your bed, persistent knocking on your window echoed throughout the room. without even directing your attention to the shadow in the window, you immediately knew it was your boyfriend, hobie.

"you know, i have a front door for a reason, love."

"i know, but what's the fun in that, sweetheart?" he beamed you a smile revealing his perfect pearly whites and a spikey smiley piercing above them.

"whatever makes you happy." you giggled while unlocking the window to give him access to your champagne toast candle-scented and dimly lit bedroom.

"i missed you a lot, bee." you gestured for him to enter and he climbed inside, ducking to avoid hitting his head due to his extreme height.

your boyfriend was dressed in the adorable badtz maru pajama pants you got him for christmas and a random band tee from decades ago. he dropped his tote bag adjacent to your bed and scrubbed off his black crocs.

"i missed ya 'n your absolutely leng face, love."

his heavy body walks toward you, steps creaking the floor as he quickly plants two kisses on your cheek making a loud mwah sound. he got himself comfortable fast by plopping down on your mattress, crossing his legs, and supporting his head with his arms underneath.

"i stopped by 'ere earlier, seems you weren't home."

"i was busy," you said with a hint of thrill in your tone while closing the window that allowed a chill breeze into the room. the cold air sending goosebumps down your exposed body since you were only dressed in baby pink panties and an oversized kuromi tee.

"busy, yeah? wif what exactly?"

“earlier, i did a thing." you mischievously smiled, joining him on the bed and sitting at the edge with your legs crisscrossed.

"a thing?" he reiterated while smirking, cocking one of his eyebrows up in interest. “do i wanna know?”

you nodded, crawling up the bed and positioning yourself onto his lap, straddling him with your thick thighs. he slid his smooth hands across your bare skin, resting them on your ass and giving it a tight squeeze. you shivered from feeling the coldness of his silver rings all over his fingers graze against your ass. “but you have to close your eyes."

"ah, why? i wanna be able to see your beautiful face." he curled his lips into a playful pout. "that's why i came over darlin'."

"it's just for a second. i want it to be a surprise, pleaseee?”

"alright, alright fine, anythin' for you, love.”

“but make it snappy, yeah? there’s somethin’ i need to handle after this.” hobie’s voice softened and you could feel his stiff cock slowly growing underneath your body. he shifted uncomfortably, pushing his hips up and aiming is dick right in the center of your lacy panties, desperate for the friction to satisfy himself.

"and what's that?" you titled your head a bit and grinned, moving a little closer to his face.

"you.” he spoke faintly and a low chuckle left his lips once he felt your heart rate speed up. hobie's pet names for you dripped off of his tongue were laced with an addictive substance, you never got tired of hearing them.

"we'll kill two birds with one stone then."

“what’d you mean by th—”

"no more questions, now eyes closed," you cut him off and said firmly. he raised one eyebrow slightly and stared at you with a puzzled look. soon after, his brown eyes disappeared behind his fluttery eyelids

you relocated to the edge of the bed, adjusting yourself to be in between his legs like you were a predator about to pounce on your prey. you slipped his pajama pants down just enough to reveal his well structured v-line and the top of his long shaft.

“i see we’re rocking no underwear tonight.” you giggled.

"y'know, giving me head was at the bottom of my guesses for a surprise, but it definitely did not disappoint.” he chuckled and opened his eyes, not wanting to miss the pretty sight of you on his cock.

you pulled down his pajamas even more and his thick, un-cut, and well-trimmed cock sprung out, already leaking out sticky pre-cum. you took a second to admire how pretty his dick was with your acrylics wrapped around it. he was so big, you had to hold him in both of your tiny hands.

he stared with glimmering eyes like he was in a daze from watching you trail up and down his shaft with the tip of your slimy tongue, the cold metal from your tongue piercing felt like ice to his sensitive spot. his breath immediately hitched from the cold feeling.

“f-fuck. wait wait wait.. that's different."

"what is that you got? it's fuckin' wicked, doll."

you briefly released your mouth from his cock, a string of your saliva still attached. you held out your tongue and on the very tip, a shiny silver bar protruded through your tongue with two hot pink balls on both sides.

"i liked the way yours felt on me, so i wanted to return the favor." you stared up at him with your soft doe eyes, a sly grin appearing on your face.

hobie was speechless for a second, all he could do was stare at you as you continued to take his shaft into your mouth. he muttered under his breath in sheer astonishment.

"you naughty lil’ girl."

taking hobie's full length down your warm throat, happily gagging as his tip hits the dangly piece in the back of your throat. your vision became blurry since your eyes were glossy and full of built-up tears. a single one fell down your cheek and he wiped it aside, caressing your flushed cheeks as you continued to suck him dry.

he bit down on his puffy plump lip, coating it in a sheer layer of saliva as you bobbled up and down on his cock. the room echoed with sloppy lewd sounds of slurping, spit running down your chin and creating a pool of saliva dripping down his balls. you were such a sloppy eater—you swallowed his dick like you had no manners.

"you're so fuckin' pretty with my dick in your mouth baby." he groaned, staring down at you in admiration with one of his veiny hands gripping a chunk of your faux soft locs. he used his free hand to hold onto your silk bedsheets like his life depended on it. you met his gaze and a tiny smile formed on your face from watching him squirm.

his dick was spasming under the wetness of your tongue while his moans and groans got louder. looking up at his face, you saw his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shining down at you with need.

after five more minutes of straight gargling his whole dick n balls, with your jaw being close to locking, he carefully pulled you up to meet eye-to-eye with him. he sat up and propped himself up with some pillows and you were positioned back on his lap with your soaking panties on top of his bare dick.

while still catching your breath, you and hobie's lips interlocked and you swirled your tongue all around the perimeter of his mouth, both of your silver tongue jewelry making contact and creating a clanking aroma.

he trailed down your neck, planting wet peppered kisses on your boiling skin. the heat transferred to all of your body like wildfire. he gently wrapped his hand around your lower waist and forced you to arch your back, giving him a better angle.

he tugged your tee off in a quick pull, throwing it somewhere in the room, and watched your pierced titties drop out like he was hypnotized. he licked his lips before devouring each, one at a time. flicking his tongue on your deep brown areolas, reaching your nipples and sucking on them, feeling the cold metal warm up from his tongue.

after slobbering up and down your chest, he directed you to lie down on your stomach. placing a pillow underneath your hips to keep you elevated, making him able to go directly to your g-spot.

sliding your pretty pink panties to one side of your ass, revealing your sopping slit patiently waiting for his dick. "you ready, love?"

hobie angled his hips so that his spit-coated tip was resting on the top of your ass. pulling your panties to the side, he slipped two slim fingers inside of you with ease and curled them upwards, reaching for your sweet spot. he felt you tighten on his fingers and he palmed himself while he fantasized about switching the fingers for his dick. he lowly muttered to himself, “you’re so fuckin’ wet for me.”

you nodded while nibbling on your cotton candy lips and he slowly slid his dick inside of you, giving you time to adjust to his large length. gasping at his heavy dick stretching you out, you pulled a pillow from the top of the bed and stuffed your face into it. he hissed between his teeth when he felt how tight you were around his dick.

"h—hobie.." happy tears swarmed your eyes, you panted, clawing your nails into your sheets, your brows curling upwards while you bit down on your lip, merely drawing blood.

"you're doing so good for me, love. c'mon, i know you can take it."

hobie, balls deep inside of your pussy, effortlessly making you lay on your elbows and making your back arch. the room was filled with the sound of his sack making contact with your aching clit. he hums to himself at your soft mewls into your pillow as he gently spanks you with his free hand, caressing it after each smack.

he was never rough and aggressive with your body—he didn’t throw you around like a rag doll and do whatever he wanted with your body. with him, he didn't degrade you and call you those names either. whats better is that he knew exactly how you desired to be touched and talked to for the ultimate oorgasm.

it was never just sex—hobie made love to you. he was gentle with your body, he treated it like a delicate flower. he consistently made sure you finished, multiple times at that, before he even thought of doing it himself. he never skipped the most important part either, the coming down and aftercare.

your brown irises rolled to the back of your skull and the only audible words you were able to mutter were "h—hobie." and very whiny, "o—oh my goddd's." your french tip-painted toes curled up as he fucked you with the perfect contrast of pleasure and pain.

"turn around, love. i wanna see that pretty face of yours." he rasps in a low tone while moving all of your hair to one side and wrapping his slender fingers around your neck. he lifts one of his legs up, titling his body at an angle to reach deeper inside of your sopping cunt.

you whimpered and slowly you turned your head back to meet his lustful gaze. he thrusts in and out, in and out, and your pussy sang out many wet squelches. your whiny babbles and soft moans got louder as your pussy constricted around his dick, you could feel yourself getting closer to cumming but holding off for him.

"you wanna cum all over this dick, yeah?" he shakily says. he could tell you were close by the way your body trembled underneath him and your mouth was wide open, eyes rolling back to the depths of your skull.

"y—yes yes, please!" you cried out, your sweet and desperate mewls filling the air. he held onto you tight to keep you from running away from the urgent and precise thrusts that both of you had been wanting so bad.

"o—oh my goddd.. i'm cumming!" painting a sheer coat around his throbbing dick as the palm of your hand pressed against his abdomen, trying to push him away.

"that's it, love, get it all out." he praises as you come down from your orgasm, maintaining the same pace he brought you to your climax at. within seconds, he slows to a halt, and hobie's cock is pulsating and spilling stringy ropes of his cum, painting your inner walls completely white.

"that tongue piercing is absolutely beastly, doll."

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lightyakami · 2 months ago

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how to make your fic easily findable

okay hello everyone! here is my somewhat solicited guide on how to make your fics easier for interested readers to find.

please note that this is a guide to help you make your fics discoverable, not to make them popular(tm.) it’s also not a guide as to the best way to post fic. you do not need to do these things. doing these things will not make people like your fic more or less than they would otherwise. i do not do all these things, either. my aim here is purely to provide suggestions that will make your fic easier to search for and share.

where to post your fic

post it on ao3 as an individual fic. authors are often hesitant to post short fic on ao3, but readers simply cannot find it if it’s not there. multi-chapter drabble collections are a matter of preference and are absolutely fine to use, but in terms of findability they’re really hard for readers to pass around or put on rec lists.

you can also post your fic on tumblr. ime fic posted in full is way more likely to be reblogged than an outward link. long fic posted on tumblr should use a read more cut, but at least a paragraph should be above the cut.

should i make a promo post?

yes. ao3 does not have any features that facilitate promoting fic -- if you don't make a promo post, people will only see your fic if they regularly browse through newest fics or actively search for one of its tags.

what should i put in a tumblr promo post?

a tumblr promo post should generally contain:

title

pairing

name of the fandom

summary of fic

link to fic

your tags should contain

pairing

name of all major characters

name of fandom

the word ‘fic’ (so people who hate fic in the tags can filter it out. be polite!)

other optional inclusions:

rating (explicit, teen, etc)

word count

major tropes

graphics (don’t forget alt text!)

a sample of your writing (it’s common to grab a ‘best-of’ passage from within your fic, but personally i’ve found you get a way better response if you paste the first couple paragraphs then add a ‘continue’ link at the end.)

tumblr does remove posts with certain keywords from the tags, but honestly these keywords are very minimal. if you’re worried your post might not be added, double-check ‘latest’ and find an alternative phrase if necessary. don’t censor the word. you do not need to repost — tumblr will pop it back in as soon as you’ve removed the word. (it won’t push it back to the top, though, so it’s best to correct this asap.)

a further note on tags

use the most commonly used tag. look at other people’s posts to find the fandom norms. it is fine to add multiple variations of the same tag.

this is especially important if the tag is ambiguous. for example: ‘near’ is the most commonly used name for the death note character, but the full name ‘nate river’ should be included as well. take into account that a lot of people use plain searches rather than tag searches. an ambiguous name might be usable as a tag but not as a plain search. top vs latest searches will also give dramatically different results — ‘top’ searches tend to retrieve appropriate results with ambiguous names, but ‘latest’ results won’t.

what should i not put in my tumblr promo post?

self-deprecating statements. this isn’t a moral statement. people just don’t like to read things if the author is telling them it’s bad

criticism of other people’s work, even if it’s really general. ‘i usually hate hurt/comfort but i wrote this anyway’ is obviously going to alienate the vast majority of your readerbase

anything unrelated to the fic. if people can’t tell whether or not something is a personal post, they’ll be hesitant to reblog. if you want to add commentary, put it in a second reblog.

what should i include in my ao3 summary?

this is a bit of a moving target. some readers like fairly detailed summaries. other readers look to tags for content information and prefer abstract vibes-based summaries. my suggestion would be to include the main selling points of your work — the characters, the tropes, and whatever factors make it unique.

at the end of the day, though, basically anything other than ‘i suck at summaries’ is fine.

what ao3 tags should i include?

any major pairings, any major characters, any major tropes. imagine your fic from a reader’s perspective — what tags would they look under if they were searching for something like it?

also pay attention to whether or not an ao3 tag is canonical. only canonical tags can be filtered on. if it autocompletes, it’s canonical.

for more information on a specific tag, click into the tag to reach the ‘x works in TAG’ screen, then click it again. tags are often made synonyms of specific canonical tags, in which case filters will treat them as if they’re that tag. you can get pretty granular with all of this but basically if you use tags that autocomplete you’re good to go.

you can also use tags to clarify content. (ex. ‘this trope is only a minor aspect of the story.) ao3 used to ask people not to do this, but it’s now explicitly permitted.

does posting time matter?

yes. sorry. it does. quite a bit, frankly. people often overthink this — there are so many variables trying to find the exact perfect time is a losing game — but it is absolutely worth taking into account.

when should i post?

on ao3: do NOT post between 12AM and 5AM UTC. ao3 has a longstanding posting glitch that will backdate your work if it’s posted between these times. in general: broadly speaking fic tends to do best on sundays and worst on friday. posting on a holiday dramatically drives down traffic. fic should be posted on ao3 when most people would likely have time to read (ex. after the standard workday) and promo posts should be posted when people would likely be looking for fic (ex. commuting hours aka slightly before 9AM and at 5PM.) the majority of tumblr users operate in EST.

the university semester also makes a massive difference to how much engagement a fic gets — views always shoot up during breaks and plummet during exams. honestly working around this would require delaying your fic so frequently that i can’t see it being worth it, but it’s good to be aware of in terms of the response you’re expecting.

also the ‘best’ posting time does vary a lot genre by genre so you’ll have to experiment a bit. (personally i’ve found h/c tends to do better midweek, for example.) imagine your fic from a reader’s perspective: when would you likely be looking for this sort of thing?

anyway don’t drive yourself crazy with this but also don’t shoot yourself in the foot by posting at 2AM EST on christmas morning. do you have a random piece of advice about posting on ao3? please be aware that if you write your fic as a draft, ao3 will backdate the fic to the day you saved the draft and index it accordingly -- it won't show up in the newest fics. multichapters initially posted as drafts will sometimes glitch and backdate every single new chapter. you can correct this by checking the 'set a different publication date' box and manually inputting it.

should i reblog my own promo posts? yes. do this. do it multiple times. make sure you do at least one reblog in the morning, one in the night, and one on the weekend.

i feel like authors are often embarrassed to reblog their own work because it feels self-important but the fact is most people are not reading your blog start to finish. no one will see all your reblogs. tbh you may lose followers for this but this is is a guide on fic visibility, not tumblr popularity.

please conclude your post now

anyway!! i hope some of this is helpful. again, you don't need to do any or all of this, but i hope it can provide a bit of a framework and some suggestions.

#ao3 #fic

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 7 months ago

Text

Concentrate

summary: You've been engrossed in work lately and Price decides to take it into his own hands to make you relax.

pairing: cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine universe)

tags/tw: afab!reader, mention of canon related injury, NSFW, mdni 18+ please and thank you, p in v, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie, d/s themes, captain!kink, implied age-gap

a/n: god, it's been too long since I've updated this series, but considrings it's summer now, I actually have may aims set on finishing it<3

Sunshine universe MASTERLIST & John Price MASTERLIST

Despite the blue-light glasses dimming your already yellowed screen, your laptop's light strains your eyes.

They sting as you blink, tears occasionally wetting your lash line. You don't want to continue working, the whole day has had you glued to the screen. But, you'd signed a contract with a bigger firm, and the first checkpoint in that partnership was scheduled to be presented in two weeks.

Despite so much time left, it felt like you were already behind.

You sighed, your forehead finding solace between your arms as you rested it against the bed. You felt the mattress shift beneath you, not too surprised you caught the attention of the bed's other occupant, who had been engrossed in his book for the better part of an hour.

"Not time to let it rest for tonight?" You sighed again, catching the sound of an open book being placed down.

"I know I should, but there's still so much left undone." You turn to face John, your head finding a temporary respite on your shoulder, relieving some of the tension in your neck.

Compared to you, he lies on his back, one hand resting along the book's spine, his index and middle finger hooked between the pages. His brows are drawn together, and the creases between them are more visible than otherwise.

"Mhm, know it is, but you've done quite some work for the last half an hour." Right, this isn't the first time he's asked if it's time to put aside work for tonight. The knowing look John sends you makes you break away from his gaze.

You know he is right. But, as soon as you stare at the unwelcomingly bright screen again, the unpleasant tingle in your nerves of work left half-done and the heaps of it left to finish forces your fingers to flex before settling on the keyboard again.

"And yet I've come nowhere", you mutter. The clicking of keys ceases when John's hand enters your vision, and a heavy paw is placed upon one of yours to halt your typing. Your eyes flick to him, noticing how he's

discarded the book and rolled onto his side, watching you with raised brows and sincere eyes.

"Wrap it up, love. You've done enough for tonight." His voice is steady, and his gaze is heavy.

Letting out a breath of combined compliance and relief, you nod. "Alright, let me just wrap these few sentences up so I'll know where I should pick up tomorrow".

"Good choice." John catches your chuckle with a kiss as he leans close to peck your lips before standing from the bed. "I'll be in the shower when you're done," he says, withdrawing to the en suite.

You follow him as he departs, leaving the invite dangling in the empty space he leaves you alone in. The water from the shower reaches you as a soft pour through the door, making it even harder to turn back to face the screen. It's light stabbing your sore eyes just a bit more viciously.

And you do plan to join him sooner rather than later. Yet the concluding sentence seems impossible to wrap up, going on forever as you attempt to put down all the thoughts on the screen for your well-rested self to probably frown at tomorrow morning.

The sound of the shower fades to a white noise as you simply can't take the step and cut yourself off, close the screen, and join John in a warm shower your sore body and exhausted mind needs.

***

Price waits for you. He didn't anticipate you to come running after him before the door shut, but he did expect you to join him soon after he stepped beneath the shower-head. But he sighs heavily when he's stood beneath the stream of water for long enough that he's finished washing and even stretched the time if you would join him in a minute.

Turning off the shower, Price steps out to dry off. He'd looked forward to spending some time with you, no less seeing you relax for the first time since after breakfast. That project you're working on has taken much of your time the last few days, rendering you basically motionless in front of your laptop if it wasn't to eat or take a minuscule pause.

Despite knowing it was he who was on med-leave and not you, Price still felt that the days on which he had no paperwork to fill his time while you worked dragged on particularly slowly. And with his shoulder barely impairing him from any movement, sitting about the whole day made his leg bounce from restlessness.

Neither did he want to disturb you too much, noticing how you noted his presence each time he passed within your view with a flick of your eyes before they fell to your laptop again.

While never saying anything, Price, in return, noticed how you often slowed your pace momentarily after he'd passed you, often with a swift kiss. Likewise, if he stayed in your vicinity, your attention strayed towards him more than once.

He tried to keep clear so as not to impair your workflow. But your workplace is much more fluid than his, and you often placed yourself in areas he passed through when moving through... practically anywhere in the house.

With the tally he kept, you favoured the couch in the living room downstairs and the bed later in the evenings.

Dropping the towel from his head, Price looked at his reflection before it fell to the side. Some little part in his chest hoped to see you suddenly appear behind him, but the door remained as shut as a few minutes prior.

Price wasn't surprised to find you right where he left you once he exited the bathroom with the towel tied around his hips.

He called your name, but you barely moved. You remained on your stomach, propped on your elbows, occasionally scrolling on the computer before you. He catches you mumbling a 'mhm, soon done' much later than his call for you and only shakes his head, the response more autogenerated than anything else.

Even from this angle, Price notices how the light from the screen illuminates your tired features. When he moves around the bed and towards your side, he catches your furrowed brows.

You're so engrossed in your work and whatever is going on inside that head of yours you don't notice when he steps up beside you. Instead, your head falls to your hands, your thumbs pressing into the roots of your eyebrows.

A low groan escapes you, stirring something in the pit of his stomach.

You'd been out like a light the last two nights, barely able to put away your computer and mosey your way for your skin-care routine before falling asleep. He'd caught you standing with your eyes closed as you massaged your products into your skin, only to offer him that sweet, tired smile once they fluttered open.

To say he hadn't been aching to touch you more than fleetingly the past three days was an understatement. But the day you announced you'd gotten the deal for this collaboration, you also said in your ecstatic state how you needed to work. So he'd let you, settling for the warmth of your body against his right before sleep took you both, and the day started in the mornings.

Price knew your jobs were different, awfully so. However, he recognised you were in that initial bubble of concentration that was hard to break out of, and you could bring in the rest of the world again.

While Price didn't blame you for working while you stayed here. After all, he'd thumbed on his non-working practice while on medical leave. He found that you had difficulty relaxing; your shoulders pulled tighter each day, your remote work smudging the line between work and home. Even now, you hadn't stopped massaging the pressure points in your face, the blue-light glasses discarded to make it easier.

He wanted to see you wind down, not only for tonight but also to allow yourself to not overwork so early on in this project. Take it from him about knowing that planning and prepping could only take you so far. Yet Price knew you wouldn't take that step yourself. He'd waited to see if you would since yesterday when the exhaustion of your mental workload slowly started to make itself noticeable.

Maybe that's why he found himself suddenly resting a knee on the bed beside your hip, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he pushed himself over your laying form until he kneeled on either side of you. Or so he told himself, dismissing how he slowly felt himself grow hard standing there, watching your form resting prone on the bed, craving to hold your body.

***

The mattress shifts and a sudden weight settles atop your thighs. You start from whatever brain fog has momentarily overtaken you.

You smell John's shower gel, the slight dampness of what must be a towel separating your naked legs from his as he sits behind you.

Fuck, right, you were supposed to join him.

You attempt to glance over your shoulder to apologise but only catch a glimpse of John, towel around his waist and hair still wet from his shower, before a hand lands on your neck and directs your face forward. The firm grip makes you feel a bit like a kitten being grabbed by the scruff, yet John's voice makes another feeling come to life.

"Just concentrate on your work, love." His voice is smooth and gravelly deep, but he doesn't let up on your neck, forcing you to continue facing your screen with the blinking marker not far from your face.

"What-"

"And let me take care of you", he continues, disregarding you completely.

You're about to ask him again what he's doing, but upon the fingers resting on either side of your neck pressing, your words escape as a rushed exhale. His thumb and index finger repeatedly knead the base of your skull, making your eyes fall shut.

Yeah, you could need a massage. That's also how you interpret John's action, as his hand slides with equal pressure further along your spine. The pressure is firm, but oh, it is needed on the sore muscles along your back that you let out a shaky breath when some of the tension is relieved.

However, your shaky breaths turn into a sharp inhale once one of his hands that has been kneading the worst of the tension points in your back slips down your spine, not stopping at your last vertebrate but continuing over the globe of your ass.

One calloused hand turns to two, both grabbing at you from behind, groping your cheeks in each palm, squeezing until flesh spills between fingers and an appreciative noise sounds from the man doing so. And then, he pulls you apart just a little, the oversized shirt of his that you're wearing riding up until you practically can feel his eyes on your scantily covered core.

"John-" His name is cut off by a sharp inhale as one of his hands slides between your legs, and he runs his thumb the length of your thong-covered pussy from behind. In the aftermath of your involuntary jerk, his other hand settles heavily on your hip, pressing you down into the bed with the help of his weight pinning you.

"Hush, don't mind me." His voice is remarkably even despite gently rubbing up and down your cunt like he is currently doing.

"Hard not to mind you." You let out a soft moan, clenching around nothing but the phantom feel of his thumb against your entrance as he presses just a tad bit more.

"You wanted to work, love, don't let me stop you". It's sweet, even considerate, the way he says it. Contrasting so deviously the way he's petting you with repeated motions of his thumb.

Your mouth opens and closes, your eyes fluttering in an attempt to stay open and watch the keyboard and screen you're meant to type on. However, the computer you only minutes before couldn't tear your attention from remains untouched.

Your fingers hover, and your chest heaves as your total concentration falls on John.

Hyper-vigilance overtakes your body as you follow every tiny thing the man pinning you against the bed does. John keeps the pace of his fingers the same, the prodding remaining frustratingly consistent. You try to wriggle your hips, but the hand on your waist only tightens its hold as he clicks his tongue. A simple but effective warning.

You fall still, letting him touch you at the pace he wants despite your breaths now turning to soft whimpers.

A flush rushes through your body when John shuffles. You feel him rise onto his knees for a second, and then the fingers playing with your pussy leave your body, only for the sensation of fabric to sweep over your legs and be thrown to the side.

Once he retakes his position, it's his naked thighs that connect with yours. But the stuttering breath escapes when you catch a low groan spilling into the air.

Your head whips around, catching John admiring you with lidded eyes, hand fisted and stroking his rapidly swelling cock to full hardness.

Mouth salivating, your lip catches between your teeth upon the scene. You can't help the way your thighs clench together when your pussy flutters. John notices, eyes trailing upwards until his gaze locks with yours. He tsks the moment they do, stopping his fisting of himself as if to depreve you of the hot scene.

"Thought you wanted to work, eh?" He leans forward, shifting his hand to rest by your shoulder instead of your hip. It lets you arch against his hardened cock when it falls against your backside. John grunts, jaws tightening as his free hand curls around your head, gripping your jaw to force you to look at him by craning your head backwards. "Now, don't let me fuckin' this pretty pussy of yours distract you." He directs your head forward slowly as the words drip from his tongue.

But, rather than your hands resuming the typing you'd given up on since he started touching you, they fall to the sides of your godforsaken computer, fisting the covers. "I-I won't be able-"

"M'no, no backtalk, or else I'll go an wank off rather than help you relax, love." Your mouth snaps shut, breathing turning shallow as your heart thrums in the hollow of your throat. "Understood?"

"Yes". There are a few beats of silence as John lets go of your jaw. You wait for his next move, but so does he, apparently, as suddenly his palm connects with your ass, the spank reverberating in the air together with your gasp.

You know what he wants, then. "Yes, Captain." His title sends a shudder down your spine, the implications of its use telling what's to come.

"Good girl", is the low-muttered response you get against the shell of your ear as John settles into his previous position again.

His hand glide over the globe of your ass, soon joined by his other one. You can only imagine the sight he's greeted with when he rucks down your panties and spreads your cheeks enough to bare you for him.

You feel how wet you are. The crotch of your panties tying your legs together is damp against your inner thighs. The uncomfortable feeling of being soaked between your legs makes you squirm beneath John's gaze.

"Squirmin' already, and I've barely touched you", he hums, letting his thumb fall to your entrance again. When he curls the digit, it disappears inside you, forcing a stutter moan out of you.

He toyed with you, teasingly stretching you over his thumb as he wiggled it at the entrance. Sometimes, John let it slide deeper, which had your thighs clenching beneath his thicker ones straddled over you.

You whimpered, head falling to the bed when he used the slick you'd coated him in to rub your clit. The stutter of your hips was impossible to stop, but rather than a swat to your ass and a disappointed sound, the one you could've presumed would leave John. His tut was filled with remorse, the way he kneaded your ass almost caringly.

"So strung tight, ain't you, love?" You whined in response when his thumb left your clit, sliding up and down the seam of your pussy. "Poor thing", he hummed, low and gravelly in his chest. If not for your body already vibrating, you bet you could've felt the same bone-deep rumble of his voice through your back.

"Yeah-oh!" A moan cut off your sentence, John's thumb swapped to the head of his cock in the middle of it. It was a slow push inside, having your mouth falling open, another moan forced into the bed.

The familiar burn of his thick cock stretching you wider made your eyes screw shut and your breathing heavy. With little to no prep, apart from your slick and John's teasing, the delicious stretch around him was slower than usual.

"Oh my-", you whimpered, feeling John move and his weight settles against your back.

A hand beneath your throat is what forces your head up. With a slight bend backwards, you met with blue eyes gazing down at you. The picture of John was upside down, but the evident lust in his features as his hips met your ass shone no less clearly.

"How's that work goin' for you?" His voice was thick, dripping from his mouth into yours from how your lips brushed.

You opened your mouth, intent on replying. Though, John had another idea. Before your words could more than begin as a deep inhale, he started to fuck into you, torturously slow but deep, rocking your body from how tightly he pressed himself against your rear.

Intended words escaped as nothing more than a moan he swallowed with a messy kiss, your sound of pleasure urging a deep groan from John in response.

Your eyes fluttered when John shifted just right and hit that bundle of nerves inside you that made silvery stars dance across your vision. He must have felt your walls contract as he picked up his pace. And basically rutted into the bed, your eyes fluttered and your neck going loose, forcing John to let you down so you would not bend it at an awkward angle.

With your cheek pressed against the bed, you followed the large man sitting straight again through your peripheral. He appeared larger when he grabbed your hips, pushing those big pecs of his together, puffing his chest up.

His bicep flexed, and his head tipped back a notch when he pushed your legs together more firmly with his thighs, feeling you tighten around him. The fit was snug, urging him to push firmer into you, lifting your hips the slightest bit to meet each thrust.

You could drool at the sight of him huffing and groaning as the muscles in his stomach and arms flexed. Some wetness probably escaping along the constant strings of moans and whimpers flooding your mouth. The burly bulk of him working you closer to orgasm with each tug of your body and snap of his hips. Fuck did he look good.

"C-captain", you moaned wantonly, earning his attention as he haunched forward, sneaking a hand beneath your front to strum at your clit.

"Fuck me, love." John couldn't help but stutter through his words when your goaded groan stoked his primal pride at having you look so utterly dishevelled. "Lookin' so fuckin' cockdrunk."

You nodded absentmindedly, earning another grunt from the man shoving his cock possibly deeper as his finger toyed quicker over your sensitive bud. It was impossible to keep your eyes open, your mouth hanging open without a sound but heady exhales escaping. Your fingers were cramping, clutching and unclutching the rucked-up duvet around your face.

"Can feel you flutterin' around me. You needed this, didn't you? Already close." Fingers dug into your hipbones, and your body jolted when John switched the pace to agonisingly drag his cock out before slamming home. "Yeah, yeah? Are you goin' to cum for your Captain? Cream my cock while you work?"

Work was nothing but a memory now as you could only muster a moan in response.

You twitched beneath him, coming nowhere despite arching your back as you came, and John continued sliding over your clit with his finger. It was violent, ripping through all those frayed and tense nerves that had pulled tight through over the last few days.

You cried into the bed, shuddering when John kept pumping into you, prolonging the blessedly painful high he forced you into by the end. His rumbling grunts and mumbled praise spread goosebumps over your skin as you lay there, taking whatever he needed to spill inside you through the overstimulation.

Then John stilled, shoving himself deep as his thighs quivered and he pulsed inside you, the warmth and stickiness spilt inside you, making you weakly moan in satisfaction.

It was blessedly silent as you felt him push incredibly lazy into you once, twice, before he pulled out and settled on his haunches, pulling your cheeks apart to probably look at the white dribble of cum that oozed out of you. He hummed contentedly, smoothing his palm over your bottom before he wedged a hand beneath your hips, helping you lift them as he pulled your panties up your legs again.

You whined at the uncomfortable coldness but stopped once John's thumb ran soothing circles into your spine.

Your eyes had fallen shut, the fatigue from earlier creeping violently close. The only thing making your lashes flutter was once John leans over your body, closing the laptop that switched to standby long ago.

His hand is kept on the device as he leans down, his head notching on your shoulder and his lips resting against the shell of your ear as he falls to his elbow.

"You're done". This time around, it wasn't a suggestion.

You can't argue this time, only hum and tip your head in an attempted nod. Your head is silent for the first time in three days, and the pleasant buzz makes your body completely lax. John takes it as an agreement as he leans down and kisses your shoulder blade.

One press off his lips turns into two, and then a question breaks the pattern, "You feelin' alright?"

"Mhm" is all you can muster in return. You receive a last kiss against your clothes-covered skin before John stands from the bed while you remain put.

You feel the laptop disappear, presuming John puts it away to charge for the night.

"Come on now, love, up you get". Your head twists to watch John as he stands beside the bed in his naked glory. A tension was lost in his shoulders now.

"M'too tired", you mumble.

"Now it suits you", he laughs softly, a quirk tugging in the corner of his lip as he bends down.

You move easily when he pushes you over to your back, enjoying the view John offers above you. When he inserts his hand behind your knees and your back to scoop you into his arms, you sober up quickly as you release a squeal, eyes widening as your arms shoot to wrap around his neck.

His chuckle vibrates against your ribcage as he readjusts his grip on you before he sets off to the en suite.

"Waited for you to take that shower with me, but looks like I had to take it into my own hands".

"So you're kidnapping me to take another?"

"Yes", he says, shifting his eyes to yours before stopping to push the door open with his foot.

"What a gentleman", you giggle, craning your neck to kiss his beard-covered jaw quickly.

"Didn't leave me with any gentlemanly options", John fixes you with a look as he lets you down.

"Guess the both of us can get stuck in work sometimes," you shrug, blinking up at him with innocent eyes and giving him an apologetic smile.

His arms circle your waist, accepting your regretful gesture by pulling you close to him. All the while, John huffs to playfully deflect your accusation towards him.

"Don't know what you're talkin' about".

"Don't know what I'm talking about, huh?" You question with a cocked brow, a smile pulling at the edge of your mouth. "Says the man who would rate his study a close second behind being in bed with me".

"Surfaces to fuck you in both places." He shrugs. Your mouth drops open, your spluttering making him let out a short laugh, a boyish smile now tugging at his lips. "And... it's not my fault you consider one of your offices the most fuckable surfaces in the house, nor your work attire this", he defends himself half-heartedly while slipping a hand beneath his oversized tee covering your body.

You lightheartedly swat his chest, chuckling as you detangle yourself from his arms.

You feel John's eyes rove over your body while you pull the shirt over your head, catching his gaze once you drop it to the floor. You lift a brow once his eyes rise to yours, only briefly, however, as they soon drop again when you step out of your sticky panties.

You feel the wetness left behind between your legs; no doubt that John also sees it from how his chest expands when you step backwards through the open shower doors and onto the still, slightly wet ground from his previous shower.

When he follows you, he instantly pulls your naked body against his as if he hadn't just held you.

Just before the water hits your front, John huddles close, bending slightly forward so the water cascades over the back of his head instead.

He runs a hand through his hair to push his drenched locks backwards. Droplets fly and hit you in the face, and you raise a hand to swipe most of them from your lashes.

You stand in comfortable silence as you stare at each other. John's hands wander up and down your sides, your hands no better as they slide over his wet torso. He can't take his eyes off of you, gaze slowly dipping, mapping your body as if he hasn't seen it naked countless times.

"You're touchy tonight", you hum, following his gaze as it settles on your breasts, hands soon moving to the same place.

"Have barely felt you for days." He fondles you in his hands, much gentler in all his touches now compared to earlier, simply feeling you up.

"Could've just asked if you wanted to have some time for us without my laptop present", you jokingly offer.

John only raises a brow as his eyes lock with yours, his hands stilling and ultimately sliding down your ribs to rest on your hips.

"With how you've buried that nose in the screen, I didn't know if you fancied if I would come and cop a feel". You tip your head side to side. "You're probably right." John only cocks his brows, a silent dig at the probably you threw in there. "But I didn't mind it now".

He shakes his head, reaching down to plan a swift kiss on your lips. "'Course you didn't when bein' so wound up. Know a good fuck makes you relax".

"Oh, shut up," you say, pushing his face away with your hand and bashfully dipping your head. He laughs lowly through the shower stream you'd moved him into.

He shook his head as he exited the water, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against his chest.

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solxamber · 9 days ago

Note

Hello! I have two things to ask:

1, Do you have a Yuusona? If so, what’re they like?

2, Neige request; A Neige with a reader a lot like the delinquent stereotype in anime. Like piercing, cutting class, riding a motorcycle, etc.

Even if you’re not still open for requests, please remember to pace yourself and take care of yourself when writing! You don’t want to burn yourself out, and there’s nothing wrong with taking a break! Remember that you are the person you should aim to please most in your writing, so it should be done on your own timeline. I hope you have a great day :)

hi! i do not have a yuusona rn! and i will take breaks when i need them, thank you for the incredibly kind message!

also this barreled out of control but i hope you like it!

Campus Scandal || Neige LeBlanche

Neige: hopeless romantic. You: begrudging (absolutely willing) participant.

or: Opposites attract— you, the resident delinquent and Neige, the campus golden boy, fall for each other.

w.c: 4k

The classroom was empty when you arrived, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow on the rows of desks. You glanced at the clock, scowling when you realized you’d somehow arrived thirty minutes early.

Mandatory classes weren’t your thing, but attendance on the first day was non-negotiable. Not that you cared much about school rules—your 2% attendance record spoke for itself—but you figured showing up on day one would keep the advisor off your back for a little while longer.

With a sigh, you dropped into the farthest seat in the back, kicked your feet up on the desk in front of you, and pulled your jacket over your head. Might as well get some sleep if you were stuck here. The soft hum of the air conditioning was surprisingly soothing, and soon enough, you were out like a light.

By the time other students began filing in, you were dead to the world, a picture of absolute delinquent indifference. Your tattoos peeked out from under the rolled-up sleeves of your shirt, the silver of your piercings catching the light. The sight of you—motorcycle helmet resting on the floor beside your desk, boots propped up like you owned the place—was enough to send whispers rippling through the room.

“Is that them?”

“Yeah, the one with the bike. I heard they got in trouble for skipping finals last semester.”

“Do they even go here? I swear I’ve never seen them in class before.”

The whispers grew quieter as more students trickled in, each one taking great care to avoid the seat next to you. Nobody was brave enough—or foolish enough—to risk waking you up.

Enter Neige LeBlanche.

Neige was never late. He was the type to set his alarm thirty minutes early, leave the house with a perfectly packed bag, and still have time to pick up pastries for his classmates on the way to school.

So, naturally, he was horrified when his alarm didn’t go off that morning. After rushing through his morning routine at record speed, he burst into the classroom, cheeks flushed and hair slightly out of place—a rarity for him.

The first thing he noticed was that the room was full. The second thing he noticed was the empty seat in the back, right next to someone who looked like they’d walked straight out of a biker gang recruitment poster.

Neige hesitated, clutching his notebook like it was a lifeline. He’d heard the rumors, of course. Everyone had. You were the mysterious rebel who showed up just enough to avoid expulsion, with a motorcycle that could be heard roaring across campus at odd hours of the night. You were intimidating, sure, but Neige wasn’t one to judge people based on appearances. Besides, he didn’t really have a choice.

With all the courage he could muster, he approached your desk and tapped you lightly on the shoulder. "Um… excuse me?"

You stirred, one eye cracking open to glare at him from under your jacket. “What?”

“Ah, sorry to wake you,” Neige said, his voice as soft as ever. “But… is this seat taken? It’s the only one left.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, taking in the rosy flush on his cheeks and the faint scent of sugar and flowers that seemed to follow him. He looked like the kind of person who helped old ladies cross the street and spent his weekends rescuing stray kittens.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, dropping your feet from the desk in front of you. “Do what you want.”

Neige practically beamed. “Thank you!”

He sat down, carefully placing his notebook on the desk, and tried to focus on the professor who had just started lecturing. Tried being the operative word.

From the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help sneaking glances at you. Everything about you screamed cool—your half-lidded eyes, the way your piercings glinted in the light, the lazy slouch of your shoulders like you couldn’t care less about anything or anyone. Even the scowl on your face seemed effortlessly stylish.

For the first time in his life, Neige LeBlanche felt self-conscious. His usually immaculate white sweater suddenly seemed plain. Was he staring too much? He was staring too much. What if you noticed? What if you thought he was weird?

Meanwhile, you were too busy trying to stay awake to notice anything. You caught snatches of the professor’s lecture, but most of it went in one ear and out the other. The only thing you did notice was the faint, almost nervous energy coming from the guy sitting next to you.

“Stop fidgeting,” you muttered, not even bothering to look at him.

“Ah—sorry!” Neige straightened in his seat, cheeks pink.

You rolled your eyes but said nothing more, settling back into your slouch. Beside you, Neige tried not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. For someone so intimidating, you sure had a way of making his heart race.

And class had only just started.

Neige was screwed.

Absolutely, completely, irrevocably screwed.

Because this—this dizzying rush of warmth in his chest, this fluttering in his stomach, this unstoppable urge to look at you every other second—wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to him.

He’d been on stage in front of thousands without breaking a sweat. He’d received countless love letters and confessions, always accepting them with gentle grace before kindly turning them down.

He was not supposed to be this much of a mess over someone who, as far as anyone knew, only appeared on campus about twice a month. You were a phantom, a ghost of the school roster, a local cryptid people whispered about in the hallways.

And yet here he was, sitting in his room after class, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out how the universe had conspired to throw him headfirst into whatever this feeling was.

It was your fault, of course. If you hadn’t looked so effortlessly cool napping in that back corner, he wouldn’t be in this situation. If you hadn’t let him sit next to you with that lazy, unimpressed nod, he wouldn’t be losing his mind. And if you hadn’t existed, period—well, Neige wasn’t sure how to finish that thought.

When he walked into class the next day, he half-expected you to be gone, vanishing back into the mysterious ether like you always did. That’s why he nearly stopped in his tracks when he saw you in the exact same spot as before, jacket thrown over your head, looking as indifferent and untouchable as ever.

His heart skipped a beat.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to calm down. It wasn’t a big deal. He was just sitting next to you because there were no other seats. No other reason.

(That was a lie. He absolutely could’ve sat somewhere else. Half the class had seats open now that attendance was starting to dwindle. But Neige LeBlanche wasn’t one to lie—except, apparently, to himself.)

He made his way to the back of the classroom, his footsteps soft as he approached your desk. You shifted slightly under your jacket, one arm draped over your face, but otherwise didn’t react.

“Good morning,” Neige said, his voice gentle.

You peeked out from under your jacket, your expression groggy but still sharp. He thought you might tell him off, tell him to get lost or take another seat. But instead, you just gave him a single nod, as if to say, Whatever. Do what you want.

Neige couldn’t help it—he smiled. Wide and bright, the kind of smile that made his eyes crinkle and his cheeks flush. “Thanks,” he said, sliding into the seat beside you.

You froze.

It wasn’t like you cared what people thought of you. You’d spent years being judged for your tattoos, your piercings, your habit of rolling into campus on your motorcycle with exactly zero regard for the stares or whispers. It didn’t bother you. You liked being the outsider, the delinquent, the one who couldn’t care less about anyone or anything.

So why the hell was your heart pounding so hard just because Neige LeBlanche had smiled at you?

You quickly averted your gaze, pretending to focus on some invisible speck on your desk. It was just a smile. A stupid, friendly smile. Nothing to freak out over.

But it wasn’t just the smile. It was the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way the soft flush on his cheeks made him look even more radiant, the way he looked at you like you were something more than a rumor or a passing shadow.

“What's that stare for?,” you muttered, your voice quieter than you intended.

Neige blinked, startled. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, still avoiding his gaze. “Just… nothing.”

Neige nodded, biting his lip to keep from smiling again. He didn’t want to push his luck. But as he opened his notebook and started jotting down the professor’s notes, he couldn’t help stealing another glance at you from the corner of his eye.

You were sitting there, pretending to be unfazed, but the corners of your lips were slightly quirked.

And suddenly, Neige didn’t feel so screwed after all.

It was freezing.

Neige tightened his scarf as the cold bit at his cheeks, his breath visible in the night air. He shuffled down the street, the empty to-go cup in his hand a sad reminder of his dorm’s coffee machine betrayal.

He couldn’t believe this was how his midterms week was going—a late-night coffee run because he couldn’t stay awake long enough to finish his notes.

The streets were quiet save for the occasional car passing by. Neige adjusted his scarf again, grumbling softly to himself, when the unmistakable roar of a motorcycle engine split through the silence.

He turned his head just in time to see a bike pull up beside him, its rider clad in the usual mix of leather and defiance that made you impossible to miss.

“LeBlanche,” you called, your voice cutting through the cold air. “What the hell are you doing out here at this hour?”

Neige blinked, startled. “I, um…” He held up his cup like it was a shield. “The coffee machine in the dorm broke. I needed—”

You rolled your eyes. “Get on.”

“What?”

“Get. On.” You jabbed a thumb at the empty space behind you. “I’ll drop you at the coffee shop and back. You’ll freeze your ass off walking like this.”

Neige hesitated. It wasn’t like he was scared—okay, maybe he was a little scared—but it wasn’t every day someone offered him a ride on their motorcycle.

“C’mon, it’s cold,” you added, impatience flickering in your tone. “You don’t want to get sick before midterms, do you?”

That was all the convincing he needed. Awkwardly, he swung his leg over the bike and settled behind you, clutching his cup like it was his lifeline.

“Hold on tight,” you said, your voice firm.

“Oh, uh, okay.” Neige hesitated again, then gingerly wrapped his arms around your waist. His cheeks flushed as he realized how close he was to you. The warmth of your jacket, the faint scent of leather and something faintly sweet—it was… distracting.

When the engine roared back to life and the bike shot forward, Neige yelped and instinctively clung to you tighter, practically burying his face in your back.

You felt his grip tighten, his forehead resting against your shoulder, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you didn’t tell him he could’ve just held onto your shoulders instead.

The ride was quick, the cold air biting at your face as you sped through the empty streets. You pulled up outside the coffee shop, parked the bike, and glanced back at him. “C’mon.”

Neige scrambled off, looking a little dazed but mostly exhilarated, and followed you inside. The warmth of the shop was immediate, and the sweet scent of coffee and pastries filled the air.

You both walked up to the counter, and Neige looked over the menu. He ordered some kind of overly sweet monstrosity with whipped cream and caramel drizzle, while you stuck with something more straightforward.

When he tried to pay, you shoved his hand away and slapped your card onto the counter instead. “I got it.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue with me, LeBlanche,” you said, cutting him off.

He looked at you for a moment, then relented with a small, flustered smile. “Thank you.”

The two of you found a table by the window, the silence between you surprisingly comfortable as you sipped your drinks.

Neige, though, was fidgeting. He glanced at you, then down at his mug, then back at you again. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “Would you… maybe want to do this again sometime? I mean, not because of the coffee machine breaking or anything, but just—”

You raised an eyebrow, cutting him off with a laugh—one that came out louder and more incredulous than you meant. “You’re insane, you know that?”

The way Neige’s face fell made your stomach drop. His shoulders slumped, his smile faltering as he looked down at his mug, and for the first time, you realized how fragile he could look.

You cleared your throat, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I mean, yeah. Sure. We can do this again. Whatever.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide and hopeful. “Really?”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze and hoping he couldn’t tell how flustered you were. “Yeah. Sure. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

But when he smiled—radiant and genuine, like he’d just been handed the moon—you couldn’t bring yourself to regret your answer.

Neige had a way of looking at you that made your chest tighten, like you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. It wasn’t the kind of look you were used to—there was no judgment in it, no wariness or fear. Just pure, unfiltered awe, like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

And it scared the hell out of you.

You weren’t blind. You’d seen the way his gaze lingered on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention—the soft smiles he tried to hide behind his coffee mug, the way his face lit up when you walked into class, even on days you were late. It was written all over him: Neige was smitten.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same. How could you not? He was… everything. Kind, warm, patient in a way that didn’t feel forced or performative. He saw the best in people, even you.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Neige was sunshine, pure and untouchable, and you… well, you were the storm cloud everyone avoided. People whispered when you walked by, flinched when you spoke too sharply, or straight-up bolted if you so much as scowled. You were used to it. Hell, you encouraged it. It kept people at arm’s length, where they couldn’t get close enough to disappoint you.

But Neige had never been afraid of you. He talked to you like you were normal, smiled at you like you were someone worth knowing. And now, every time you caught him staring, every time his voice softened when he said your name, you could feel the weight of his feelings pressing down on you.

You wanted him. God, you wanted him. But you knew yourself, and you knew your reputation. People like you didn’t get to keep people like Neige. He’d see the cracks eventually—the temper, the flaws, the parts of you that didn’t match the person he thought you were.

So you let him look. You let him smile. And you let yourself pretend, just for a little while longer, that none of it meant anything.

It was better this way, you told yourself. Better to let him think you were clueless than to risk ruining what you had.

But then he’d smile at you—bright and genuine, like you were the only person in the world—and for a moment, just a moment, you wondered if maybe you were wrong.

The shift in campus perception was honestly more amusing than anything. People used to scatter like birds at the sound of your motorcycle engine; now, they smiled at you nervously, whispered in tones laced with intrigue rather than fear.

You had Neige to thank for that—his perpetual sunshine seemed to have melted the icy rumors that clung to you like a second skin.

Not that you cared. Let them think you were some misunderstood rebel who just needed the "right person" to bring out your hidden soft side. Whatever. As long as no one tried to cross your boundaries, they could make up whatever fairy tale they wanted.

You were mid-thought, hands stuffed into your jacket pockets, when someone bumped into you. Instinctively, you reached out, steadying them before they could stumble.

"Ah, thank you!" they said, looking up at you with wide, shy eyes, a faint blush coloring their cheeks.

And then they smiled.

That was new. Usually, people avoided eye contact like their lives depended on it, let alone smiled at you. You stood there, blinking, thrown off by the sheer normalcy of the interaction.

It was in this moment of confusion that you noticed Neige in the distance, his usual radiant expression frozen mid-bloom. He was staring, though his smile quickly returned—but something about it was... sharper. Too sweet, like honey laced with arsenic.

Before you could process it, Neige was suddenly beside you, his sugary demeanor dialed up to eleven.

"Ah, pardon me," he said with a voice so warm it could melt glaciers. He turned to the person you'd caught, his hand gently pulling theirs from your grasp. "Thank you for keeping them company, but we'll be on our way now!"

The stranger opened their mouth to protest but quickly thought better of it under Neige’s disarmingly sweet gaze.

Without missing a beat, Neige hooked his arm around yours and steered you away, his grip firm, yet not tight enough to hurt.

"Coffee?" he asked brightly, as if nothing had happened.

You at him, raising a brow. "You good?"

His smile didn’t falter, though his hold on your arm didn’t either. "Of course! I just thought we’d get a head start before it gets crowded."

You weren’t buying it. His cheerful tone was laced with something you couldn’t quite place—possessiveness? Jealousy?

Whatever it was, it made your heart skip in a way you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

The weight of Neige's silence sat heavy between you as you parked your bike and pulled him gently to a quieter corner of campus, away from prying eyes and ears. His hand was still gripping your arm like a lifeline, but he avoided your gaze like he thought it might shatter him.

“Okay, what’s going on?” you asked firmly, voice softer than you thought yourself capable of. “Just spit it out, Neige. What happened?”

He shook his head, his hair falling slightly into his eyes, still refusing to meet your gaze. Frustration bubbled up, but it wasn’t directed at him—it was at the tears threatening to spill over in his red-rimmed eyes.

You sighed, stepping closer, and placed your hands on his face, tilting it up so he couldn’t avoid you anymore. “Look at me,” you urged, voice gentler now. “Neige, tell me what’s wrong. Who hurt you?”

The dam broke. Tears welled up and fell freely, and he didn’t say a word before throwing his arms around you, burying his face in your chest. His grip was tight, desperate, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around him, shielding him from whatever invisible storm he was weathering.

“Neige,” you murmured, your voice soft yet insistent as you ran a hand over his hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe, alright?”

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, his body trembling against yours as he clung to you. Slowly, his breaths evened out, and the tension in his shoulders began to ease.

When you finally pulled back enough to look at him, his eyes were still glassy, his cheeks flushed from both the crying and how close you were holding him. You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, your touch careful, your voice low. “Tell me what happened.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes searching your face like he was committing it to memory. Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. His lips were soft, desperate, and warm against yours, and for a split second, you froze, completely blindsided. But then everything you’d been holding back—every stolen glance, every lingering moment, every unspoken word—burst out of you all at once. You grabbed his jacket, pulling him closer, kissing him harder, pouring all the feelings you’d been too scared to admit into that single moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, lips swollen and faces flushed. Neige’s wide eyes met yours, his voice trembling as he finally spoke.

“I-I thought I was losing you,” he confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ve liked you since the day I said hello to you, and I thought—when I saw you with someone else—that maybe I wasn’t as special to you as you were to me. And it hurt. It hurt so much.”

Your heart clenched as you cupped his face again, your thumb brushing gently along his cheek. “Neige, you’re the most special person in my life. I’ve liked you too, but I held myself back because of your reputation. I didn’t want to ruin how everyone sees you.”

His brow furrowed, and for the first time since you’d known him, Neige looked genuinely upset—though it was more at your reasoning than at you. He raised a hand and gave you a weak punch to the shoulder, his pout oddly adorable. “You don’t get to decide what’s good for me,” he muttered, his cheeks still red.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, pulling him close again. “Okay, okay. That’s fair. Then let me ask you this: Neige, will you be mine?”

The tears welled up again, but this time, they were accompanied by a bright, teary-eyed laugh. “Yes,” he said, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go. “Of course, yes.”

The campus was abuzz the moment you and Neige stepped onto the quad together, hand in hand. Conversations hushed, heads turned, and phones subtly (or not-so-subtly) appeared to capture the moment.

There you were, the campus’s local delinquent, the untouchable cryptid who never gave anyone the time of day, walking side by side with Neige LeBlanche, the golden boy who could charm the birds out of the trees.

But what really sent the gossip mongers into a frenzy was how soft you looked. Gone was the usual detached scowl, replaced by a faint flush on your cheeks, your usual sharp demeanor melted into something almost bashful.

And Neige? Oh, he was radiant as ever, but there was an unmistakable air of triumph in the way he held your hand—a sweet, subtle smugness in his satisfied smile as he glanced at you, completely wrapped up in your presence.

The whispers grew louder with every step:

“Is that…?”

“Are they holding hands?!”

“No way. Them?!”

“Neige really bagged them?”

“They really bagged Neige?”

But honestly, who cared? You sure didn’t. Not when Neige looked at you with that gentle, heart-stopping smile, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand as if to remind you he was there.

The rumors, the stares, the whispers—they all faded into white noise. None of it mattered when you had that smile aimed at you, lighting up every corner of your world and making you fall for him all over again with each passing second.

Masterlist

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