#i have!! so much inspo!! but i haven’t fleshed out any of them enough to write anything for em...

[sunnibits]

Yo for the OC ask meme, give us the multiples of five~ (for da meaterie)

SHSHGSHAHA NOT THE MEATERIE

hell yeah dude let’s GO

5. How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?:

Huh… Depends on what it is I guess?? I would say pretty far, considering his questionable sense of morals and selfish attitude, but he also kind of fucking sucks at getting what he wants so I feel like he’s sorta used to disappointment at this point HSGSHHS

He will kill probably people though :)))

10. What’s an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?:

OOOOH okay this is a very fun thing to consider, I haven’t really put any thought into putting Dimitri into any AU’s yet! I mean, my first thought is just “any of them” bc anything with Dimitri is infinitely fun for me,, hmmm….. OOOH oh oh! You know what would be really fun would be like a sci-fi AU of some kind! Like space smuggler/pirate vibes almost… he would be the sneaky dude who hacks into security systems and rides around in some sleek stolen ship. And then our whole party can be ragtag space crew members :D Ayesha could be the grizzled mechanic maybe, Lark is the pilot…..

15. Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?:

Hmm… nope, not really! I don’t really tend to do faceclaims for my OCs. I mean, he is definitely based off of MCU Loki a weeeee bit (lie), but I am trying to find ways to differentiate him from that :))

20. Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?:

Ooo… I would say yes, for sure, as much as he would rather die than show it. Specifically, I feel like he gets jealous of the nice things that other people have, and the nice lives they get to live. He was never really given anything nice, and he had a rough fucking upbringing, so I think sometimes he sees other people wearing their soft fancy clothes with their rich opulent food and their loving families, and he just wishes he could fucking have that so bad. But he doesn’t even want to admit to himself that he feels that way, never mind admitting it to other people, so he’s learned to just turn all that jealousy into anger instead and sort of turn his chin up at soft fancy comforts (soooo izzycore of him honestly) when in reality I think he wants all of those things <33

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?:

Ohhh, that’s such a hard one! Especially because like, Dimitri was specifically designed to be very self indulgent. I basically told myself when I started, “okay, you can worry as much as you want about being all unique and original with your DnD character in your second campaign. for now though, it’s your first fucking campaign, we are going to go as self indulgent as physically possible and who gives a shit if he’s just like everyone else’s character!!” So yknow, for me that meant making the roguish sexy tiefling I had always dreamed of playing, and leaning as hard into the Loki inspo as I wanted to lmao. Point being, with that in mind I kind of love all of him - the design, the vibes, the Gender™️ and all that - but really thinking about it, I think my favorite thing about him is just like,,, how actually developed he is? Like, I’ve been making OCs for years and years, but for some reason I can just never fucking manage to develop an OC beyond the most bare minimum of basic concepts before I get bored of them, and it drives me so insane. It has really felt like I would never have an OC that was anywhere near fleshed-out. But then I started playing this campaign, and I made a really self indulgent character, and I actually had this other person in the form of my DM pushing me to think about him more and give him a story, and the sessions keep renewing my interest in him every week, so it’s like?? Actually the perfect fucking cocktail of motivations to finally make my stupid adhd brain function enough to maintain interest in an OC? And I’m so fucking happy about it??? Like he actually has fucking depth now and themes and motivations and symbolism?????? And I love it so much??? And I mean sure, he’s absolutely nowhere near as developed as some other people’s OCs, there’s still a lot of shit I have to figure out…. but still, he’s easily far beyond anything I’ve ever reached before with my OC’s, and I am utterly fucking ecstatic about it.

Oh wow that was a lot uhh sorry for rambling but augh I just love him so much and I’m so so proud of myself for making him and putting in all the effort that I have 🥰🥰 I can’t can’t CAN’T wait to keep playing him and developing him and exploring his story and working with my wonderful DM to keep him growing 🥰🥰🥰

[ryuubees-moved]

someday i’ll post original content again,,,, 😔✌️✨

[carolmaximoffs]

like real people do

summary: bucky barnes may be back for the rest of the world, but to you, he might as well have remained a ghost story. 

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual intercourse (unprotected - wrap your monkey b4 you get funky please), dirty talk, choking, rough sex, oral sex (fr)

a/n: i...i...i have nothing to say please just look at the warnings. (title is a hozier song that served as inspo!!) this is short but i was feeling some kinda way. the only part of this that was proofread was a sentence i ran by @moteldwelling​, and even that’s been tweaked. good luck. 

You haven’t been home for five minutes when there’s a knock. And it’s Wednesday, and you know exactly who it is, and you should let him in, but dammit if you don’t get these heels off first. (You don’t, because he knocks again, and you know he could and would break the door). So you let him in, no questions asked, not a single word exchanged between the two of you. You open the door and turn to walk towards your bedroom. You don’t have to wait for him; the hesitation before heavier footsteps follow your own is almost as familiar as your heartbeat now. 

He sits on your bed; you can see him in your mirror as you take off your earrings. Your heart is pounding, but you’ve gotten good at acting aloof. He’s uncomfortable, to have caught you just getting home, and he’s much earlier than usual, you realize. It’s still light out; he had never been earlier than dusk. His voice is as flat as ever - even he’s been reduced to asking awkward questions to fill the silence.

“Work clothes?” He asks of your dark, striped pants and prissy blouse. You nod absently as you wipe at your makeup - your hands are shaking, and you don’t have a clue as to why. “I’ve never seen you in work clothes before.”

You flat out snort at that observation, tossing the makeup wipe into the bin and turning to face him. “You’ve never been here before dark, either, but here we are.”

He says nothing - probably reached his word limit. You keep your face carefully blank as you stand, pulling your blouse over your head. He stays where he is, but his hand has noticeably stopped fidgeting as he stares. “We gonna do this or what, Barnes? Don’t have all night.”

He positively growls at that. In seconds, you’re being shoved back onto your bed, Bucky’s hands deftly ridding you of your bra. He sucks a harsh bruise into your stomach before going to pull off your pants, panties with them. You make to kick your heels off, make it easier for him, but a hand on your calf stops you. 

“Leave them,” He murmurs, steel eyes boring into your own. There’s no hiding your nervous swallow; he’s careful, slipping your dress pants over your heels. The caution doesn’t last long; Bucky grips your thighs tight enough to bruise as he shoves your legs apart. Even after months of this, you cry out at the first lick. There was plenty you could say about James Buchanan Barnes, and this was one of them: the man knew how to use his tongue. Up and down; a broad stripe with the flat of his tongue here, a poke at your entrance there, a circle about your clit every so often.

You do your best to hold in your moans (your neighbors had filed a noise complaint a few months ago), but you can’t hold back your whine when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, hard. Right as you near that sweet, sweet edge, he pulls back. Another whine, this time followed by two thick fingers shoved into your mouth. 

“Shh, I know,” He whispers, mouth by your ear now. He bites, teasing, and you just know he’s holding back a grin. “Wanna feel it, baby. Wanna feel you squeeze the shit outta my cock.” 

And gods, if that doesn’t get you even more bothered. All careless facades aside, you arch up into him. You squirm in the grip of cold metal on your thigh, digging your teeth into the fingers between your lips. Bucky hisses, metal hand meeting your thigh in a quick, sharp thwack that, okay, you deserve it. You pout anyways, rolling your hips against his. Bucky scowls. 

“So fucking impatient,” He mutters. He uses you as leverage, shoving you into the bed harshly to push himself up onto his knees. Off comes his shirt, long sleeved and tight fitted. You bite your lip at the sight of broad shoulders and muscular torso as he works his way out of his jeans and boxers. “Such a fucking cockslut.” 

You groan at the statement, thighs trembling from how hard you’ve pressed them together. Bucky pries them apart with ease, slotting his own lithe form between them. He noses at your ear as his hands diverge; one north, tweaking a nipple, the other south, cupping your dripping center. “Yeah? You know what you are. Need me to fuck you so bad, huh, honey? Can’t go two fucking days without me to fuck you senseless?” 

Somewhere deep in your haze, you realize he’s right. Bucky was just here - he usually put at least a week between his visits. You don’t have time to ponder this discovery. He’s moved, one nipple caught between his teeth as his metal hand pinches at the other. His hips are flush against yours, rigid cock slotted in your folds. You cry out as he pushes at your entrance, causing his small, smug smile to break out against your breast. He brings his mouth to yours as he slides home.(You wish, fleetingly, that you could not count the amount of times he’s properly kissed you on one hand). He fucks you open for only a moment, any pretense of gentleness disappearing as he begins to pound you relentlessly. 

He quickly tires himself, or so you think, pulling out. However, you’re quickly corrected as he grips you tight and flips you. Again, those contrasting appendages grasp your hips firmly and pull your ass flush to his member. Bucky grinds into you lazily for a moment, flesh hand coming to take up a handful of your ass. He’s pushing back in soon enough. The hand on your ass moves to tangle in your hair, pushing your face into the pillow. He gives an extra shove, just for good measure, a silent command. You keep your moans muffled, screaming freely as his hips slam against your ass. Your bed rocks furiously in time with Bucky’s thrusts. His hand alternates between kneading your bottom and promptly bringing his palm down to meet the sensitive flesh. 

Your whole body feels feverish; hair clings to the nape of your neck with sweat. Your toes curl as Bucky slams that spot deep within you again and again, your hands white-knuckling the sheets. He flips the pair of you, again, leaving you lightheaded as he continues his powerful thrusts up into you. 

“Bucky,” You pant, eyes watering as his thighs meet your bruised backside. He bounces you with ease, hands back on your hips.  Bucky doesn’t reply beyond a hum against your collarbone, where he’s busy leaving hickeys for you to cover up tomorrow. “Bucky...James, I...fuck, I’m close.” 

“I know,” He grunts. You scream through gritted teeth; you don’t know if it’s from your oncoming orgasm, or the fact that he’s so damn nonchalant even as his hips stutter. “C’mon, honey. Cum. Know you’re close. C’mon, yeah. Fuck, baby, milkin’ me so fucking good, shit.” 

He spills within you almost thoughtlessly. You’d been on the pill since before you’d even heard of the Winter Soldier, and he knew it. Bucky slows to a stop, twitching a final time within you. He lifts you up and off of him, dropping you carelessly onto your mattress. You screw your eyes shut and keep them like that; it ached enough just to listen.

You hear him grab tissues from your nightstand, hear the clink of his belt buckle as he redressed. You listen as he slips on heavy combat boots. You wait for the quiet click of your bedroom door, and the even quieter slam of your front door. Like always, he leaves, but not really - the only part of him you ever got to keep trailed from your swollen cunt and sparked goosebumps on your thighs. And besides that sticky, bittersweet trail, he might as well not have been there at all. 

[cherrybracelets]

crybaby

dean winchester x fem!reader / word count: 1.8k

warnings: mentions of tattoos, needles, blood. swearing. no smut. just dumb mutual pining and hand holding and tattooing

song inspo: crybaby by lil peep (i recommend listening before or during!)

an: thanks for my first dean request @herfalsegod i kind of tweaked this a bit and made it a bit more angsty i hope you like it <3 no spoilers or spn context is needed here! no set timeline in the spn universe either!

“I can’t have this conversation with you again, (Y/N),” Dean lectured, throwing his back down on the cheap motel bed, a pile of dust filling the air as it hit the blanket. 

“Dean, you’re kind of being a little over dramatic,” you responded, rolling your eyes flirtatiously, biting slightly on your lip. 

“That’s like the third time this month you almost got possessed. You have to get the tattoo. I’m serious.” It was a conversation you’d had time and time again, him telling you how dumb it was to not have the anti possession tattoo with the amount of exorcisms you’d been doing lately. You were asking to get hurt, he always said. You were being dumb. 

“Dean, you’re not in charge of me. In fact, didn’t you come to me for help with this hunt?” 

“Yeah, everyone said you were one of the best. I almost believed it, too.” 

“Almost?” You chuckled, shaking your head in frustration at him. 

“I just don’t think anyone could be that good of a hunter if you’re afraid of needles. How are you supposed to fight demons if you’re such a crybaby?” 

That hurt. That made you angry. The fact was, you had saved Dean’s crybaby ass about a hundred times since you started hunting together, and for him to say that to you just because you didn’t want a stupid tattoo… 

“Fine. Let’s go then.” You grabbed your jacket and started towards the door, determined to prove to Dean you were tough enough.

“You’re serious?” He laughed, rolling his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. 

“I’ll go with or without you, either way I’m not gonna stand around and listen to you insult me anymore,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest and refusing to look at him. But you could sense him pouting, his tough exterior breaking down a bit as you yelled. 

“Well, you can’t just walk into any shop and get it done. It needs to be done perfectly. I know a guy a few towns over who can do it. I’ll take you,” he offered, grabbing his keys off the nightstand and heading towards the door. Although you wanted to turn him away, keep up the angry facade you had created, you were secretly grateful he was coming. You were nervous, and there was no shot you could do this alone without crying or passing out. 

You didn’t speak for most of the car ride, still refusing to look at him, just staring out the window. He kept looking over to you, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t come up with the right words. 

Finally he spoke up, turning down his music just a moment before he opened his mouth. 

“I didn’t mean to be a dick, (Y/N). I don’t think you’re not tough… in all honesty, I think you’re way tougher than me. I just… don’t want to see you get hurt, I guess.” He brought his hand to his face, rubbing his jaw as he turned the words over in his head. He didn’t want you to get hurt. It would kill him to see you get hurt. 

“I know, Dean. I’m being stupid… it’s just a stupid tattoo, right? It can’t be that bad,” you smiled, looking up towards him, realizing now just how much you missed looking at his face. How much happier and calmer you felt knowing he was right beside you. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad at all. Somewhere between a bee sting, and like… being stabbed?” He smiled, winking deviously at you. 

“Oh shut up! Do you want me to get the fucking tattoo or not?” You slapped his arm playfully, the two of you laughing obnoxiously over the sound of the radio as his car sped through the dark streets. 

“Well, we’re pulling in now, so you don’t have much of a choice anymore,” he informed, raising his eyebrows in anticipation as he found a place to park. 

You felt your head starting to spin and your heart racing as he took the keys out of the ignition, your hands shaking as you started to get out of the car. Dean could sense your change in mood, your body language screaming out for help. He ran over to your side of the car, putting his arm around you and grabbing you tightly. 

“Oh, c’mon, sunshine. It really isn’t that bad, I promise. And I’ll hold your hand the entire time. It’ll be over before you know it,” he assured you, the warmth of his body grounding you. His touch was always enough to bring your head back home from the clouds. 

“I’m ready. Let’s go,” you nodded, affirming to him you were going to be okay. He smiled down to you, nodding slightly in response. 

He walked ahead of you into the shop, smiling as he greeted his friend behind the desk. They had a quick and quiet conversation, making sure their words were only heard between the two of them. After a few minutes of talking, they both nodded and walked in opposite directions, Dean walking back towards you. 

“You ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be…” 

You followed Dean and the tattoo artist to a private room, having you lay down on a padded table with Dean sitting in a chair next to you. 

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Sean, and I am going to be tattooing you today. Have you ever had a tattoo before?” He looked like one of the most intimidating people you’d ever seen in your entire life- and you’d come face to face with demons. But, his voice was so kind and reassuring, you instantly felt better.

“I haven’t. And I’m a little nervous, to be honest,” you frowned, not wanting to sound super lame in front of Sean. 

“Hah! I remember how nervous Dean was when he got his first piece. Almost threw up right here on this bed,” Sean cackled. The thought of a nervous Dean made you giggle as well, which you tried desperately to hide. 

“Don’t listen to him, (Y/N)... I was fine,” Dean responded, denying any allegations of him being scared. 

“Ah, sure, whatever you say buddy. We’ll act like you didn’t shed a few tears that day, too…” 

“Oh… a crybaby?!” You looked up at Dean, who was avoiding your eye contact at all costs. You could swear a quiet blush crept up on his cheeks, the first time you’d ever seen Dean embarrassed in your entire friendship. You grabbed onto his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. His hands were warm, and surprisingly soft. You had always imagined his hands would be rough, worn, tired. Why had you thought so much about what his hands felt like? 

“Don’t worry, Dean. I will definitely cry. And I’m tougher than you, remember?” You giggled, finally grabbing his attention. Your touch was enough. It was always enough to bring his head back home from the clouds. He smiled down at you, a loving smile and warm eyes, ones that you would’ve lost yourself in if Sean hadn’t broken through your daze. 

“You ready?” 

“Mhmm,” you nodded, slipping your arm out of the sleeve of your shirt, revealing a bit of your bare chest. Not too much, but enough to make Dean shift in his chair, goosebumps forming on his flesh. He had never seen so much of you… he had never realized how beautiful your skin was, how much he desired to see more. 

You were still holding onto his hand, Sean turning his machine on, the loud noise breaking through any anxious thoughts you had. You turned towards Dean as he started tattooing, furrowing your brows as the needle began to pierce your skin. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it would be, helping you relax after the first few minutes. 

“It’s not too bad, actually,” you shrugged, Dean still staring at your chest. 

“Hmm? Sorry?” He said, shaking his head uncomfortably as he brought his eyes back to you. 

“You okay?” You giggled, wincing a bit as the pain got a little worse. 

“Yeah, just zoned out, that’s all. Sorry. I’m here,” he smiled, squeezing your hand reassuringly. 

“Thank you, Dean. For taking care of me.” You were feeling exceptionally grateful for him at the moment, your heart overwhelmed with love for the man that pushed you to be safe, that wouldn’t stop until you took care of yourself.  

“I won’t… I can’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered. You tried to think of something to say in response, but the tattoo needle was getting closer to your collarbone, and the pain made your brain unable to say anything else. 

You made casual conversation with Sean until he finished, which only took about another 20 minutes. When he finally added the last detail, he turned the machine off and smiled proudly at your. 

“All done, kid!” He gave you a thumbs up before grabbing a mirror and showing the final result. 

“Oh, wow!” you responded, grateful it was finally over. Sean cleaned it up and explained the aftercare to you, making Dean promise that you would take care of it until it healed. 

“If it doesn’t heal right, it could scar, and then the anti possession property won’t work right. You don’t want to have to do this all over again, right?” 

“No, sir,” you laughed, shaking your head and promising to take care of it. Dean paid Sean in cash, said their goodbyes, and the two of you walked outside and to his car together. 

“So? Not too bad, right?” Dean asked as he began unlocking the car. 

“Not at all. And it’s kind of badass. Kind of hot, right?” You giggled, opening the passenger door and sitting comfortably in the seat.

“Oh, yeah… yeah, totally hot,” Dean responded, an awkward tone hung in his voice. 

“Oh, don’t be weird about it. Your tattoo is hot. Tattoos are hot.” 

“You think I’m… it’s hot?” Dean was blushing again. Two times in one night? Almost impossible. 

“Yeah. Super hot,” you nodded, feeling a sudden layer of tension hanging in the air. 

“Can I try something?” Dean asked, awaiting your permission for whatever it was he was planning. 

“Uh, sure?” You shrugged, slightly nervous about what you just agreed too. 

And then Dean wrapped his soft hands around your face, pulling you towards him and kissing you softly. His lips held the taste of cheap beer and mint gum, which he incessantly chewed to curb his cigarette habit. A habit he only quit after he met you. 

He kissed you gently at first, not sure how you would respond to him. But you kissed him back, kissed him harder, your hands pulling his face into yours. You could feel him smiling as you kissed, happiness overwhelming both of you as you were finally able to admit how you felt. And how much you had just wanted to make out. 

“I do think your tattoo looks really, really hot,” he whispered, his lips trailing kisses down your neck. 

[poisonepel]

Oh!! Oh!! May i uhh... Request some Azul fluff? With a male reader who's very shy and embarrassed to admit he likes Azul?(if you want to, Jade and Floyd can appear too...) I've been seeing a LOT of female readers and i kinda feel left out... :')

thank you for waiting and I hope you enjoy this !! …altho I’m realizing now I don’t exactly know the definition of “fluff.” uh. also it’s a bit long… ❗MILD SPICE WARNING❗ 

Confrontation. Azul x Male!Reader (1680 words)

(Y/n) adjusted his hold on his bag as he walked through the halls of Night Raven College, feeling a little burnt out by all the work he had to do today. He would’ve loved nothing more than to go out and unwind, maybe off-campus, but his friends were all busy now. The only other place to go would be the Mostro Lounge, but there was no way he’d go in there by himself… especially not when Azul Ashengrotto might be there.

So, he figured he’d hurry back to the dorms to knock out some homework, and then have the evening free. He did have to pass by it on his way out from the academic building, and you always knew when you were passing by the Lounge - (Y/n) could hear the soft melody of a piano playing inside, and the sweet smells of freshly baked desserts, whipped up by the few, but dedicated Octavinelle students who had a knack for baking.

(Y/n) picked up his pace.

It’d been a few weeks now that he had been trying desperately to avoid one-on-one encounters with Octavinelle’s head. Or any encounter with the Leech twins. He’d realized that he had a hopeless crush on Azul Ashengrotto, and was fairly certain those three knew all about it - of course they must have; they knew everything - but (Y/n) would rather give himself the benefit of the doubt and prevent them from ever getting a chance to address it.

So he took brisk steps through the hall, keeping his eyes forward and away from the Door of Doom. It was like a devil tempting him with relaxing music and mouth-watering aromas - and Azul himself - but (Y/n) knew talking to Azul would never go down the way he’d hope it to. He tried his hardest to ignore the Lounge and only hoped no one would open the door.

He thought he made it. He managed to turn the corner, went down a few more corridors, and climbed the stairs - he was so close to the mirror chamber, to the portal which would take him back to his dorm, but then at once two lithe bodies suddenly swooped in front of him. (Y/n) jumped.

And then he saw their faces.

“Hi, (Y/n)~” Floyd grinned.

“H-Hi,” (Y/n) replied. Of course it was them. Of course. “Sorry, but um… I’m in a bit of a hurry right now. …I should get going.” He tried to squeeze through the tight opening between the twins’ shoulders, the entire time screaming inside of his head that he wanted out of this situation and he wanted out now, but Jade and Floyd had come to him for a reason. And they wouldn’t leave till they said what they needed to.

“Just a moment, please,” Jade started, while both he and his brother each grabbed one of (Y/n)’s arms. “We’ve been informed that something has been bothering you for quite a while now…”

Floyd tugged (Y/n) closer, prompting his cheeks to flare, his eyes darting to stare down the floor. “So we thought we’d extend a special invitation to you~ In hopes of fixing your little dilemma.”

“D-Dilemma…?” It was getting clearer and clearer for (Y/n) to see where this was going, and he didn’t like it at all. He kept trying to back away, but the twins’ grip was strong - there was no way he’d be able to break out of their hold.

“Don’t be nervous,” Floyd laughed. “All we’re doing is taking ya to the Lounge for a quick meeting with Azul.”

“I-I don’t want to talk with him.”

“We’ll give ya free food from the café for a month.”

Jade shot his brother a look when he heard that - they hadn’t discussed that part - but Floyd only smiled, his mind unchanged. (Y/n) considered. It was just a meeting with Azul. Awkward, maybe; his heart would be pounding of his chest, for sure; but what if it had nothing to do with his feelings for the Octavinelle head at all? (Y/n) had lots of other problems anyway - maybe this was about stress from school, or the fact that he shattered his phone the other day and shed real tears over it. …Maybe Azul would offer to buy him a new one.

“…Fine.”

“Yay~” Floyd jerked (Y/n) by the arm, leading him back down the stairs and through the corridors. (Y/n) was frantically reconsidering his decision the entire way, but when they finally arrived at the great double doors hiding the Mostro Lounge Café from sight, he realized he never really had a choice anyway. Azul most likely had summoned (Y/n) specifically, and there was no way the twins would fail to carry out a request from their dorm head.

So before long, (Y/n) was planted down in a chair directly across from Azul, at his desk. He was sweating. He couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Hello, (Y/n),” Azul greeted, pleasantly, his fingers woven atop his desk.

“…..”

“I apologize for bringing you here so brashly,” Azul’s eyes flicked up towards the Leech twins, who were loitering in the back of the room. “But I believe there is a conversation long overdue between the two of us.”

(Y/n) squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He knew he hadn’t been doing a very good job of keeping his crush a secret, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Now he was going to be rejected, teased, hurt, heartbroken - he should’ve stood up for himself more when the Leech twins had approached him.

But maybe playing dumb would work. “…What is this about?” he asked.

“Oh? I assumed you might have been able to guess. Well then, I will clarify. Jade, Floyd, could you give us a moment?”

(Y/n) caught Floyd flashing him a horrible smirk on his way out, which did not make him feel any less uncomfortable. He gripped the fabric at his knees, trying desperately to wish his beating heart still. When the door shut after the twins exited, it almost sounded like the bells you’d hear before death - (Y/n) swallowed. Relax, he told himself. He was just being dramatic.

Azul stood up from his desk, drawing one hand across the tabletop as he rounded its corner - which brought him closer to where (Y/n) was sitting. “This might just be the most nervous I’ve ever seen anyone while sitting in my office,” he commented. “But I suppose that’s to be expected, given the reason for this meeting.”

“Wh-what’s the reason…?”

“It seems you’re in love.”

As low as his stomach dropped when Azul said that, (Y/n) tried swallowing away his nerves, and straightened his back, making himself look much more sure of himself. He had an idea to avoid this confrontation. But still, he did not look at Azul.

“…O-oh, that,” he said, cursing himself for stuttering. He made himself look very calm, as if he was relieved to finally get the chance to discuss this. “…I am. I’ve tried so hard to get her attention, but she never seems to look at me.”

Azul stilled. “‘She’?”

“She’s from Pomefiore,” (Y/n) explained. “So she’d never even notice a lowlife like me…”

There was a moment of silence, and (Y/n) kept quiet, anxious to hear a response.

“(Y/n),” Azul said. “Look at me.”

(Y/n)’s cheeks flared again. “Huh? Wh-why?”

“Do it.”

So he peeked over at the Octavinelle dorm leader, his face still bright red. Azul had an unreadable look on his face - he was stern, yet calm, but his eyes were stunning… (Y/n) started fidgeting with his fingers. For a brief second, Azul’s lovely grey irises flicked down to (Y/n)’s hands, then back to his eyes.

“What is her name?”

“…! Um, she⁠—she’s in Pomefiore, you know, so her name, uh… is, ehm…..”

“…You’re lying,” Azul concluded. (Y/n)’s grip on his pants tightened. He was just digging a bigger grave for himself. While he was focused on trying to keep himself calm, Azul took a seat atop the corner of his desk, folding his hands over his knee. “Now, I don’t make contracts with liars⁠—there is no sense in that.”

(Y/n) noted that as his cue. He anxiously stood up and started for the door. “Th-then I’ll be on my w⁠—”

“However,” Azul interrupted, as he removed his glasses and placed them on the table, “that is from a business standpoint. Surely you know I have a personal life outside of my work. And I, too, would be a liar if I said you haven’t been an interest of mine. Moreso than anyone else.”

…

…

…What? (Y/n) nearly choked.

Azul stood up, taking a few steps towards him. “I don’t think you’d mind if we bypassed forming a contract for this.” Then he leaned over, his lips all of a sudden against (Y/n)’s, softly, perfectly—(Y/n) could hardly comprehend what was happening until he felt Azul’s body press against him, making him stumble a few steps backward.

“A-Azul—” He managed out, not necessarily protesting; (Y/n) was equal parts surprised and emboldened. Azul pushed him down atop his desk, where he proceeded to assault him with sweet lovemarks, and eventually (Y/n) had fully grabbed ahold of himself and began to kiss back.

How long had he been dreaming of this…? He’d spent countless embarrassing nights thinking about how soft Azul’s lips would feel on his, how warm his touch would be; and now he was here in the flesh and it was every bit perfect (Y/n) had imagined. He was a bit rough, but in that entrancing sort of way—(Y/n) couldn’t get enough.

“Nn~”

He brought his own lips to Azul’s neck, kissing all along his jawline, his fingers tangled up in those soft silver locks.

“God, I want you,” Azul breathed out, in between ravenous kisses. A glint of desire flickered in his eyes. “How many days have gone by… where I’ve known about your hopeless little crush, and did nothing about it…? I would’ve done this so long ago if I had the chance.”

(Y/n)’s heart fluttered harder and harder with every word Azul spoke. The more kisses he felt, the more warmth spread through his body; this felt like nothing but sheer ecstasy.

“I-Is this real…?” he murmured. Azul smiled against his skin.

“If you want it to be.”

                   ・━━━━✥◈✥━━━━・

song inspo. lomepal「la vérité」

[Masterlist]

[eveninglottie]

hello i am interested in some more deets about song of sunder 👀

WELL SINCE YOU ASKED smash cut to about two years ago when I was so badly wanting to play dnd that I just threw seven characters into a half-baked world and played pretend with myself (I’m not kidding there was actual dice involved). since then it’s been brewing in the back of my head and I only really started to think about it seriously last year. I’m sure some of it comes from my obsession with CR and my fic brain going “dothisdothisdothis” because it’s very much a ‘formative text’ for me, but it’s been this nice little feel good place for me to go back to, especially this year. 

it’s actually at the top of my list in terms of what I’ve been thinking about diving into (since I apparently cannot write fic anymore lol it’s fine), and I’ve been working on it a lot recently just fleshing out the world and the character arcs. 

though, one of the things I have been considering seriously is just how you write a story like this, in a format meant to be read rather than experienced like any other dnd campaign. like is it just seven povs with separate chapters (a la game of thrones) or, and this is the one I’m drawn to but have no idea what it would turn out like, is it a story told from a third person omniscient narrator, weaving interchangeably through perspectives just like a dm would do in an actual game. like a screenplay but with prose. dnd is such a subjective experience, and while a lot of people have had success adapting liveplays to other visual mediums, like animation or graphic novels, I’ve never seen someone do it in fiction. I especially have never done it lol. I only ever write from distinct povs and switch them out, so this would be hard. maybe. I haven’t actually tried it yet. 

the story itself is pretty standard high fantasy dnd, a ‘sundered’ world where the planes all kind of smushed up against each other (familiar? :P) with a bunch of different factions and nations and secrets and wars and people trying to be gods and all that jazz, with a group of assholes thrown into the mix to become big damn heroes (the bones of the world are actually what I used to flesh out DW but shh don’t tell anyone). every arc (9, one for each character and a beginning and an ending) would open with ari, the bard, almost like she’s telling a story to the reader. 

my pie in the sky ideas for it would be some kind of serialized fiction, if I could get my ass in gear to actually do it. I’ve thought about how amazing it would be to do an audio drama one day with different voice actors and music and sound effects and all that shit, like oh my god do I want to do that. I have no idea how to do that, obviously, but that would be The Dream. I’ve even gone so far as to pick out a theme song, because I clearly don’t have enough things to worry about in my life. 

(it’s a lullaby, like a story, told by a siren, like a bard, get it, get it)

and because I’m feeling indulgent and I spent all day making these face refs (thank you, you little monster) the aforementioned assholes (they all have multiple classes and subclasses because I have the Too Much gene): 

ari (ariannai), an autumn eladrin bard/druid (college of glamour and lore/circle of dreams) from the feywild, soft and sweet and perfectly capable of gutting anyone who tries to fuck with her, has a gold pseudodragon familiar named trill whom she loves like a child, plays a masterful mandolin, her voice is magic (literally), actual snow white, leliana and josephine were huge inspo for her

kayd, a human fighter/warlock (eldritch knight/hexblade and undying) from the frozen north, a charming sailor with a thirst to prove himself (listen I love fjord a lot okay) and a cursed sword (don’t worry about it), likes purple and flirting with everything that moves, frequently gets into trouble because of this, but he can talk his way out of a jail cell (and has!) so it’s been fine so far (don’t think about the cursed sword)

verity, a half-tiefling/half-drow monk/rogue (way of shadow/assassin and soul blade) from the shadowfell, a ruthless thief and a terrible shit-starter running from a dark past, she has a pet rat named poe and loves gossip, looks like a child but is actually the oldest in the group, knife girl, her horns are tiny enough to fit in a hood but not tiny enough to fit in with her elvish family so that sucked but hey they’re all dead now so who came out on top in the end

esher, a human artificer/fighter/sorcerer (battle smith/gunslinger/phoenix soul) from a bustling white city on a hill, an obnoxious noble with a long lineage and a complete disregard for politics and propriety and his own privilege (he’s a younger son so he’s usually left alone and ignored and that’s fine, obviously), he loves nerd shit and his ancient owl, hornsby, and sometimes he sets things on fire with his fingers which would be fine only he sets things on fire with his experiments as well so things are on fire a lot around him

goya (goyzadara), a half-orc/half-elf fighter/paladin/ranger (samurai/oath of the ancients/beast master), a princess in exile, honorable to a fault (which is why she was exiled), big into history and politics, finds a baby gryphon and immediately goes to pieces, Disaster Sword Lesbian, likes embarrassing men by kicking their asses in fighting rings, though she never takes the money, because she’s noble like that, has a weird obsession with dragons, does embroidery in her free time to chill out, can’t cook for shit

sabrathan, a scourge aasimar blood hunter/ranger/sorcerer (order of the ghostslayer/monster slayer/divine soul), a half feral girl from the woods who knows way too much about how to disembowel monsters three times her size, skittish and intense and maybe an angel but don’t ask her about it or she will disappear for a few hours and come back with an elk for dinner, never seen out of the company of her crossbow or her sickles, more comfortable around animals than people

theo (theoderic), a human sorcerer/wizard (runechild/school of chronurgy and conjuration and transmutation (he’s a special snowflake)), the smartest person you will ever meet and he knows it, socially awkward and unnervingly quiet, not actually an asshole just neurodivergent (but also sometimes an asshole), craves Phenomenal Cosmic Power and affection, has anime hair and terrible handwriting, Gay as Fuck

their group name would be Sirenox (the name of the last dragon seen in Sunder over five hundred years ago, whose final act was to grant a group of adventurers a boon to stop an archlich from plunging the land into eternal darkness), and I love them all very much, and definitely already have full romance arcs fleshed out for all of them, because that’s more important than worldbuilding, obviously.

so anyway there you go, my own little dnd campaign that I will probably never write, just think about wistfully until I die 

[cherrybracelets]

bad guy [b. hargrove x reader]

song inspo | masterlist

word count: 2k / warnings: literally just 100% dirty smut. oral receiving m&f, alcohol mention

an: hope y’all like this fuckin FILTHY billy smut in my universe where billy is alive and redeemed and perfectly ok (send requests) also don’t lie to me and tell me u haven’t thought about fuckin billy to this song bc it’s all i think about every time i hear it

It wasn't the typical place you would find yourself on a Friday night. You weren't really in to the whole bar scene, especially grungy bars like this one. But your friend had dragged you along after a bad breakup, and you knew she needed you by her side tonight, to avoid going home with some trashy guy. A trashy guy exactly like him...

He was doused in cologne and hair gel, chain smoking cigarettes and chugging beer like it was nothing. His ab muscles showed clearly through his shirt, and his tight jeans clearly illuminated a large bulge. He was what every mom told their daughters to stay away from, the epitome of bad boy. And he was looking directly at you. In fact, he couldn't take his eyes off you. And something inside of you made you scream for him to come over, wrap his large arms around your waist and take you home.

You took another large sip of whatever fruity drink you ordered this time, and turned your gaze away from him. He wasn't good for you, you had to keep telling yourself that. Don't look at him... don't think about his lips trailing up and down your body, nibbling your skin, his tongue touching your center lightly enough to make you squirm. Fuck... don't think about that.

You turned to your friend, who was taking shots with a dorky looking guy you knew from high school. Well, you thought, at least you don't have to worry about her going home with someone bad. You tried to get attention, hoping she could distract you from the walking sex machine lurking behind you, but she just brushed you off, going back to conversation with her new boy. You rolled your eyes, and decided it best to leave, not wanting to interrupt her love affair any longer.

"Are you leaving?" A tender voice asked behind you. You turned around to see him, standing only a foot from you, the smell of musk and leather filling your body.

"Yeah, not much for me here,"  you responded, shifting your body away from his, worried you would subconsciously move yourself closer.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," he teased, moving closer to you, heat radiating from his body. "Let me buy you a drink." He smiled nicely, showing off a near perfect grin. You could imagine how nice that smile would look while you had his cock in your mouth.

"I guess one drink wouldn't hurt." You sat back down on the bar stool, your knees now touching his upper thighs. You quickly moved away from him, a shiver going down your spine during the second your skin was touching.

"I'm Billy, it's wonderful to meet such a beautiful girl in a place like this... doesn't happen a lot." He sat next to you, and waved over the bartender.

"I doubt you have a hard time finding beautiful women..." you laughed, eyeing him up and down. You stopped momentarily at his bulge, and then again at his lips.

"What makes you say that?" He shifted in his seat, and put his arm on your knee. You felt your flesh turn to goosebumps at his touch, and your heart rate increased a bit. You didn't want him to stop touching you, you wanted him to move his hand upward and touch you where you needed it. Where you knew he could make you feel something.

"My name is (Y/N), by the way. Thank you for the drink," you managed to get out, your voice shaky from lust.

"It's very nice to meet you, (Y/N)." Billy smiled at you, and winked. He turned away from you to take a swig of beer, and his hand left your knee. You felt upset, almost like you should've reached out to grab it and put it back. His hands belonged on your body. You frowned at him, and turned away to take a sip of your drink.

"So, what do you do?" He asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands.

"This is all a bullshit act, right?" You asked, ignoring whatever pointless question he just asked you.

"What do you mean?" He asked, laughing and shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"Everything you're doing right now... buying me a drink, acting like a nice guy... it's all an act so you can take me home and fuck me, right?" You leaned back in your chair and looked at him seriously.

"I... well, I uh..." he stammered, looking at the floor and rubbing his neck.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Billy. We don't have to play this game... I want you to take me home," you whispered, placing a hand on his thigh, and inching closer to him.

"Are you serious?" He asked, eyes meeting yours and mouth slightly open.

"I am..."

Billy stood up and took your hand, motioning for him to follow you. You stood up as well, and moved quickly through the crowd of bar patrons, still holding tightly to Billys hand. You walked behind him out the door, and to a car that definitely fit his trope. You giggled a bit, thinking about the bad guy you were about to fuck senseless, and he looked up at you, worried.

"What's wrong?" He asked, about to climb in his drivers seat.

"Nothing, let's go," you urged, sitting in his passenger seat, slamming the door. He followed suit, closing the door quickly and turning on his car. He drove quickly, maybe a bit too quick for your liking, but there was a thrill growing inside of you that you couldn't tame. You felt like yelling out the window, letting the wind and night air flow through you, the smell of summertime fill you.

You moved around in your seat, almost losing patience with how long it was taking you to get wherever you were going. You looked over at Billy, who had his eyes focused on the road, and smiled. You bit your lip, and reached a hand over to his leg. You placed it on his upper thigh, just close enough to really tease him. He looked over at you, shaking his head, and stepped down on the gas pedal a little harder.

When you pulled up to his house, he turned the car off quickly and got out, not saying a word. You were both on a mission, and neither of you had time for talking. You got out of the car swiftly and followed him, catching up quickly as he went to open the door. As soon as he got you inside, he pushed your body against the door and kissed you deeply. He was quick and desperate about it, moving his lips sloppily around yours, biting your bottom lip in frustration. His body was grinding into yours, his muscles pushing back against your skin. His hands traveled down to your ass, and he squeezed it tightly, before letting go and rubbing the cheeks slightly.

"Follow me," he whispered into your ear, hands moving slowly away from your body. You nodded, and did as you were told, following him into a bedroom. When you both got in and the door was closed, he quickly took off his shirt. You looked him over and let out a small moan, not at all surprised by his near perfect body. You flopped down on the bed, kicking your shoes off and ripping your shirt over your head.

Billy climbed on top of you and pushed his body into yours, kissing your neck. His hands found their way to your breasts, and he played with your nipples lightly, enough to make it tickle a bit. You moved your body around under his, trying to get him to go harder. He got the message, and moved his mouth down to one of your nipples. He kissed it for a few seconds, before biting lightly, making you squeal. You both giggled a bit as he started to undo his belt. You shifted under him and took off your shorts, revealing yourself to be soaked in anticipation.

Billy noticed how wet you were, and started lightly rubbing at your center. You threw your head back in pleasure, him moving in perfect rhythm. He slipped a finger inside of you, slowly pumping in and out. You moved your hips towards him, and told him you wanted more. He nodded, and slipped another finger inside of you. This time he started pumping faster, and moved his lips down to your clit, licking it lightly and slowly. The combination of pleasures made you cum quickly, and Billy bit his lip when you screamed his name, the sound of you telling him how good he is making him even harder.

He took his fingers out of you and licked them, before slowly pumping his cock. You sat up and shoved Billy down flat, and took over pumping for him. You moved your mouth down over his tip and kissed it slightly, before taking just the top in your mouth. He groaned, putting a hand on the back of your head and pushing your mouth deeper into him. You gagged a bit, not being used to his size.

"That's fucking hot," he moaned, shoving your head down again. He let go of your head, and you started rhythmically sucking him. After a few minutes, you let go of him in your mouth and sat up.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked.

"Drawer," he motioned, and you reached over and pulled one out. You helped him put it on, and moved your body so that you were now hovering over his lap. He held onto himself, positioning his tip into you, and you slid down slowly on him. You both let out low moans, and you put your hands on his chest. You started moving yourself up and down, getting adjusted to his size. Billy wrapped his fingers in your hair for grip, and put the other hand on your hip, helping you move. You started bouncing on him faster, loving the feeling of him inside of you.

"Fuck, keep doing that. I love watching you on top of me," he whispered, biting down on his lip and watching your tits bounce with each movement. You kept going, and picked up your speed a bit, knowing you were only minutes from making him cum.

"I guess the bad boy likes it when his girls take control, huh?" You asked, winking at him.

"Only you, baby," he responded, eyes glued to your body. He moved your face closer to his, and started kissing you again. He was even more reckless this time, trying his best to keep his cool. His tongue slipped in and out of your mouth, his hands now firmly on your waist, moving himself quicker and deeper in you. His body started moving a little more randomly, and you knew he was almost there. You broke the kiss and leaned back, yelling his name.

"Fuck yes, (Y/N)..." Billy threw his head back and came, taking a deep breath as he finished. He pulled out of you, slowly, still coming down from his high. He took the condom off and discarded it, laying back in the bed and catching his breath. A flirty smile grew over his face, and he sat up quickly.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"Now it's my turn to show you what it's like when I'm in control. Turn around, baby. Ass up," he said, winking at you and reaching into his drawer for another condom.