#it's been way too long since i drew his face (properly i mean) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

godisshook · 1 year

Text

Casual

Cody is the ultimate fuckboy. He prides himself on never getting attached and only using others for sex. A path of broken people and torn relationships is left wherever he steps foot, and he just doesn't seem to care. He was a horrible boyfriend, but he was my friend regardless. In my defense, we had known each other since grade school, and I can confidently say that this is a recent development. The worst part of it all is nobody else seemed to care (aside from those he hurt of course) about his dating behavior.

I tried to be a balancing force in his life, as much as I could, hoping that I could be a good influence on him, or at least prevent him from doing as much damage as possible. I tried to steer him on the right path, using our friendship to hopefully help him understand, but all my pleas fell on deaf ears. Usually, I was the first to know if Cody had entered a new relationship, but I stopped receiving those all-too-common relationship updates from him for months. Knowing his habit of being a serial dater, it seemed far too suspicious that something hadn't happened in all of this time.

In addition to ensuring Cody doesn't implode by ruining every relationship he had, it was also my plan to make this summer the best of my life, and that meant changing everything. I have only dated one guy, and that resulted in an incredibly underwhelming breakup and an even more underwhelming friendship afterward.

Our gym days had been a sort of ritual between the two of us forever, I always did cardio, while he did weights. We used this time to catch up on each other's days and make plans, all intermixed with some exercise. As one of our many rambling conversations soon circled to the topic of relationships, I used the moment to bring up my grievance with him, in the sternest way I could. Balancing seriousness with a friendly air, I said, "It is wild how you manage to be so bad at keeping a relationship." He replied, "Remind me, you've been with how many people?" With an immediate, "Oh, one!" Keeping up with the banter, I quipped, "But, I mean, at least my one relationship still likes me after." Even as the words left my lips, I knew I had crossed an invisible line. Cody's look at me only proved my thinking, as I glanced over to a blank stare.

The moment suddenly felt intense. I thought I had hit too deep, even gone too far. I steeled myself and prepared a response, but as I did, I noticed a smile appear on his face, soon replaced by a full-faced chuckle. As the sudden shift in emotion gave me whiplash, I could only manage a light laugh, but I felt his strong hand pat my back, as he said "I mean, if they hate me so much, they should take it up with me, but they all knew what they were getting into." The seriousness of his response was dulled by his kind demeanor, but his words hit hard.

He always had that effect on people, where his words never seemed to match his face. I always thought it was a quirk of his, but at this moment, I became aware of just how effective it could be. His disarming smile made it impossible to hate him for long, and his way with words always got him out of whatever jam he found himself in. As if nothing had happened, he said, "You wanna go on the treadmill?" Whether it was a strategic olive branch, or him just genuinely not caring, I did not care to know, I grabbed my water bottle and followed behind him.

As our workout drew to a close, I sat to cool down, and scrolled through my socials as Cody still migrated around the gym. He would soon place himself right between me, and a mirror on the wall. Looking up from my seat, I said, "Why arent you sitting down?" As if he took offense to the statement, he responded, "I have to admire my hard work first." Knowing that this was the least ridiculous thing he could have said, I replied, "Y'know what, knock yourself out." Before I could even properly go back to scrolling through social media, it became obvious why he chose this position, as he lifted his shirt to admire himself in the mirror, and chose to close the distance between us.

Cody had always made it obvious he had feelings for me. But due to my general aversion to dating and knowing his dating habits, there was never a chance for anything to happen. Despite all of this, he flirted as if we had never seen each other, which always yielded interesting situations. This felt like a nice shift from things, and I soon reassured myself, thinking that maybe I did actually get through to him, and all of these months were him reflecting on things. While I most definitely was going to exaggerate my role in this process, despite the true cause, it was fun to think about.

There were many days like that afterward, with quips and banter, and our friendship remained strong. He invited me to the park, an event that seemed very date-like, but one that was incredibly pleasant nonetheless. Weeks filled with the usual late-night texts, sudden house walks, and constant snack trips, things felt so familiar, so, safe. I reveled in this moment, as with our return to college, life would get busy, and we would inevitably fall out of touch, meeting in hurried coffee rushes, or quick workout sessions.

For now, there was peace, and I appreciated it whenever I could. After lounging my day about, I received a sudden text from Cody.

"Come to the gym," He texted.

"What do you mean, it's literally closed," I responded.

There was a second of hesitation, but a speech bubble quickly followed with an,

"I know."

It was weird, but he's had stranger ideas, and so I followed along, wanting to see what situation he had conjured up today. I arrived at the gym only ten minutes later, as it was a quick walk from my place. As I approached the door, I noticed it was already ajar, and in the parking lot, a single black car was parked at the far end. "Cody," I thought to myself. I entered, and the few lights that were on illuminated a path to the far back. With a tinge of paranoia overtaking me, I looked around to see if the cameras were on, but to my surprise, they had all been blacked out. When I finally reached the back, Cody was standing there, expectantly.

In a cool tone, he said, "I've been thinking about what you said a while ago, I do need to get my act together, I wanna do better." A look of surprise came over my face as I replied, "How so, and why does it involve us being here so late?" My question was met with hesitation, a moment of silence, but even that felt like an eternity. Breaking the lull, he responded, "Let me show you." He was serious, there wasn't even a smile to join his words, he wanted me to know he meant what he said.

Things felt different this time, as Cody closed the distance between us, I felt an indescribable heat and urgency emanate from Cody, as if everything in this moment was his world, and was waiting for my word to let loose. I had been able to resist his charms for years, but this moment felt, different. It was as if everything had aligned for this to happen, but it was just right. "I know you can't stand my dating habits, but I did it all to try to replace my desire for you.

My body gave away my feelings in a way words could not, and I leaned onto Cody and laid a kiss on his cheek. I whispered, "I should've done that from the start." The kiss elevated the heat of the moment, and a sharp intensity came over Cody, desire and joy mixing, as he assessed just how he was going to have his way with me.

Suddenly, I felt my knees hit the ground as his warm hands moved expertly around my chin, bringing my gaze up straight to him. "There's a reason I haven't been seeing anyone because it's always been you." His words lit a dangerous spark, and I could not resist anymore. But just as the moment was set to hit a fever pitch, a noise outside brought us back to reality. As the sounds of footsteps drew close, we rushed out the back door, and ran to the forest behind the gym, an escape route we were used to navigating for years. It was exhilarating, it felt like, in this small rush, we were back to being kids again. As we approached the other side, we watched our breaths for a moment, and after looking around to ensure we hadn't been followed, we walked up onto the sidewalk.

The walk was calm and serene, with few words spoken, but many thoughts still communicated. I felt my cheeks redden, a blush overcoming me. Cody took notice of it, but only his eyes gave away his knowledge of things, as he continued conversating as usual. In a second, as if he finally had his chance, he asked,

"You wanna go back to my place?"

It was obvious what his offer entailed, but there was a curiosity nagging at me, and I just had to resolve it. "What are we?" I asked. It was a brave question, I could have gravely misjudged the moment and ruined the friendship right here, but I felt bold, and it was a time for big steps. The usually calm and hesitant Cody became fiery for the moment, responding, "We're whatever you want us to be." It was clear what he intended with this, but it was my turn to hesitate. With uncertainty meandering throughout me, I replied, "Let's keep things casual for now, then." "Fine by me," he shrugged.

His arms went over my shoulder, bringing me close to his chest, where I could feel the intensity of his heartbeat. The rest of the walk back was silent. Where once there was small talk and expectant words, it was now a walk of resolution, one of completion. Finally arriving at his, I splayed myself on his bed, and turned on a movie, as he went to the bathroom to take a shower and change. Even though I snuck a peek (of course) things were relatively PG, likely due to me being too exhausted to actually capitalize off of him being in the shower.

I looked around his room, a place I had been to many times, and once I had seen change countless times over the years, as new aesthetics came in, and old looks went out. It was fun to see all of this change, and made me admire just how long our friendship had lasted. Just as I thought that the situation that I now found myself in could put the whole friendship in jeopardy. I had just told him I wanted to "keep things casual." Which I immediately regretted, not knowing what response he even wanted. With my overthinking taking up every moment, I couldn't truly enjoy the fact that my hot friend wanted to date me.

Taking in how I even got to this moment, things seemed so complex. The guy who I had been lecturing for ages on how to be a better boyfriend, somehow wanted to be with me? It seemed like one of those perfect coincidences like the stars aligned in my favor just this once. I was going to take it in stride but still was mired over what he wanted out of all of this. With my thoughts all over the place, it seemed fortuitous that the person to take me out of that lull would be none other than Cody.

His return from the bathroom resulted in him only in his boxers and a sweater, his bulge already noticeable as he walked out. As he sat down, I resisted the urge to drool on the spot. He sat right next to me and started watching TV. I could not resist the urge, and immediately laid my head on his waist, feeling his bulge just inches from my head. Both of us were making moves, but in a way that allowed us deniability, it seemed that we were each taking my words to heart.

We continued watching, only getting ten more minutes before Cody decided to lift off his sweater, revealing his muscled chest. He knew exactly what he was doing at the moment, and as I had to shift my head to accommodate him taking his sweater off, I was now face to face with his toned body. I had to admit, he knew exactly what times he was hottest, and this was definitely one of them. I was mesmerized by him, and he knew he had me enamored.

I decided to still resist, wanting to beat him at his own game. I sat close to him, resting my head on his shoulders, and laid my hand on his bulge, while watching the movie innocently. It was my bravest moment, but I felt his cock pulse under my hand in response, meaning I had clearly succeeded. Cody kept his cool for now, but his face was going flush, it was clear that his body was going to betray his mind when it came to how he felt, and that was most apparent when it came to his dick.

His bulge was getting more noticeable, and it was clear that this movie was no longer the focus of the night. I looked over and met with bedroom eyes from Cody. As his bulge grew, I knew what I was being beckoned to do, but I, always the tease, wanted to extend the heat. I laid a kiss on his cheeks, "You seem so excited to watch a movie with me," I quipped. A strained look came over his face as if he was simply waiting for the go-ahead.

I only gave him kisses, but he returned them with a special intensity. Small pecks became deep kisses, and we began feeling each other up and down. The moment could have gone further, the feeling was there, and the moment had aligned. To my surprise, however, Cody would be the one to stop it in its tracks. Separating from the kiss, he said,

"Please, just stay the night."

I was awoken by the smell of eggs and bacon cooking downstairs, and my nose guided my path to Cody cooking in the kitchen. It was obvious I made the right decision in staying, as Cody was set to dote on me every second he could. Hypnotized by the delicious-smelling food, I could only sit and grab a plate, as Cody said, "Take as much as you want, I made plenty," I confessed, "You are truly my favorite person." "I know," he replied.

I lounged about, enjoying my day by doing absolutely nothing. Even on Cody's bed, I felt a comfort that I hadn't experienced in a long while. Things just felt, right. As Cody ran errands, I watched TV, changing between reality shows and trying to beat commercial breaks. He would return occasionally, and always lay a kiss on my head or, if I had gone into one of my many naps of the day, simply leave a snack for me as he left.

As the lazy day drew to a calm evening, I stood up to go home. I had walked to his with none of my things and had to steal even the clothes I was wearing from his closet. Deciding that I had to go get my things, I stepped out, leaving a note for Cody on his return. Instead of the note greeting him, it would be me, as when I opened the door, none other than Cody was standing right there, having returned. He noticed me holding my stuff and putting things together in a second. Instead of letting his feeling be known through words, he simply dropped everything, and grabbed my waist, laying a deep kiss on my lips. As he drew away from the kiss, he said, "You don't have to go."

His disarming smile once again clouded everything, as it felt as if I couldn't say no. I said, "But none of my things are here." He immediately replied, "We can get it and you can come back." As I finally put the pieces together, I understood what he was truly asking. He had long wanted us to live together, and this was the moment.

I had lived by myself for years, and there would be worse people to live with, so I finally responded, "Y'know what, I can just use your stuff." Cody broke into a full smile from this, and he closed the door behind him and began kissing me continuously. The only moments we stopped were to come up for air, as we took off each other's clothes then and there, leaving on only the more base layers. I felt his bulge press against his shorts and decided to play with him a bit.

Maintaining the kiss, I brought the distance between us closer, pressing straight into his bulge. As I did, a jolt seemed to go through Cody, as he bucked against it, temporarily breaking the kiss. Grabbing me tighter he said, "You do these crazy things, and don't expect me to respond?" Before I could respond, he had lifted me up on his shoulder and was carrying me to the room. Seeing the kitchen and hallway move around me, without my legs being able to do a thing felt, different, but sexy nonetheless.

Finally reaching our destination, he took care as he entered the doorway, and finally getting inside, rushed to throw me on the bed, to which I exclaimed "Hey!" He quickly replied, "Your whole trip here wasn't allowed to be amazing." I giggled at this, and got up on my knees, beckoning the still-standing Cody over to the bed with a finger. He walked over in a sultry manner, and as the distance between us closed once more, I felt up his body, admiring every bit of muscle as I made my way down.

I took him by the waistband, and pulled him onto the bed, resting my body right beside him, able to feel every breath hit me, as his heartbeat pounded against his chest. It was a singular second of peace, we both knew where things would go from here, but in this moment, we were just laying by each other, without a care in the world.

The feeling was nice, but I decided it was finally time to take this to the next level. I moved our bodies closer to each other, and took his face into my hands, laying a light kiss on his lips. He took this for exactly what it was and returned the favor. With that, things heated up faster and faster.

After I initiated things, Cody truly let loose, our hands taking off what little clothes remained on the other's body. His dick, as if it was waiting to be released, bounced up from his underwear, and as I noticed, I could only laugh. "You really wanted this, didn't you?" I asked. "More than you could even imagine," he responded. Instead of taking off his underwear immediately, I teased his prominent bulge, guiding my hands up and down, and was met with a deep sigh in response. Taking a hand to his chest, I moved my hands down, taking deliberate slow care to every point on his chest, to which Cody took my arm to guide me further down once more.

Now noticing the position he had me in, Cody quickly took control, shifting my body under his, and taking my wrists in his hands, a steely stare meeting my eyes. Once again, there was hesitation, as he assessed what to do. Taking advantage of this, I asked with a chuckle, "What? You didn't think you'd get this far?" Instead of a response, however, my words were met with a sudden kiss, his lips pressing into mine, hard. The intensity of the kiss sent a flash throughout me, and his bulge now pressed against my thigh, as if it was waiting for permission to be let out. As a flurry of emotion came over me, I could only muster a single response.

"I'm all yours."

He moved like a man possessed, laying hot kisses throughout my neck, and moved my thigh up, in a moment, he moved down and began eating me out. His tongue worked expertly, and I could only moan in response, pleasure surging throughout me. A fire came over his eyes, as he knew he had me exactly where he wanted me. With a flourish, he took off his underwear, and his cock was finally freed. I gawked at his size, unaware that someone's dick could be that big.

I took the initiative, taking it in my hands and jerking him off. It was now his turn to respond with a low grunt, his deep voice bucking against the pleasure he felt. Taking things into his hands once more, he grabbed the lube from his dresser, and wet his cock. As his tip entered me, I felt a wave of heat overcome me, as my body responded to him entering me.

Soon, he was fully thrusting into me, his cock filling me up entirely. Shocks of pleasure strike through me as he continued fucking me, with me only being able to make small moans, each thrust silencing me again. We fucked for what seemed like hours, trying each and every position. Each time I thought we were done, he would cum again, setting the cycle anew once more. Load after load filled me up, and soon I became numb, after being fucked to my limit. Cody, still full of energy, kept going. I found myself wanting to keep going, for him, and didn't want this moment to end.

I felt as if the world around me was blacking out, with my only focus being Cody's warm face, laying kisses all over me as he continued pounding me. In one final thrust, I was sent to true climax, and everything became hazy. Cody's voice would be the thing to break the fog. I focused on his words with his voice being a familiar sound to my ears.

"I'm addicted to you, did you know that?" He asked.

On the verge of blacking out, I replied,

"I always did."

#addicted #jock #muscle #smut #college jock #college guys #alpha men

411 notes · View notes

is-emily-real · 1 year

Text

In Love With The Boy

Richard couldn't care less that his son was gay. Quite the opposite, actually. He’d had his fair share of dalliances in his day, and he was glad Steve got to be open about that part of himself.

No, Richard Harrington had a problem with who his son chose to date.

“I don’t like this,” he said as he leaned against the doorway.

Helen touched up her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. “Like what?”

“This whole situation with the Munson boy.”

She fixed him with a glare. “Now, you swore to me that you’d love our son no matter what.” Even after all this time, she couldn’t drop her drawl when she was ticked off.

“No no, it’s not that. I just don’t think Eddie’s a good idea for Steve.”

“Oh. Well, can’t help love, I suppose.”

“I’ve heard some rumors about him from Darlene.”

“Baby, Darlene’s older than Moses. You ain’t gotta listen to her.”

“I do if I don’t want my coffee poisoned. That woman’s mean.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Eddie’s perfectly fine. Steve’s happier than he has been since he and Nancy broke up, and we are not going to ruin that for him.”

He put his hands up. “Alright, but I’m allowed to not like him. Father’s intuition.”

“What was it my daddy said the day we got married?”

“When he told my great-aunt I was dumber than a box of rocks or when he called me a no-good papist bastard in front of the priest?”

“Exactly. And it’s been twenty-three years since then. But,” she sighed, “if it makes you feel better, we can come home a bit early tonight, and I’ll talk to him before he leaves.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you. If we hurry, we can get seats by Alan and Brenda.”

Helen flashed that beautiful smile that’d caught his heart so long ago. “No, sir. You and Alan are trouble together.”

------

It was a lazy date, but one Steve wouldn’t give up for the world. He and Eddie were curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background that he didn’t give a damn about. Instead, he was distracted by the feeling of the man in his arms.

These moments were so different from how Eddie portrayed himself. Out in the world, he was larger than life, eccentric, untouchable. But here, under the blankets, he shared his softest smiles, undid him with the lightest touches. He told Steve stories he’s never told before, shared the little details of his experiences and questioned the meaning of the universe. He drew the same from Steve, until there was nothing in his life that he would hide from these intimate moments.

He traced the scars along Eddie’s sides. If Robin was his other half, Eddie was his compliment, fitting around his curves and edges just so. They moved with each other in intricate patterns, calming and encouraging in turn, bringing out the best and tempering the worst. He adored Eddie and felt adored.

No one had ever made him feel that way before.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked.

He hummed, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

“Where do you see us in the future?”

“Wherever. As long as you’re there, I’m happy.”

“Really? Anywhere?”

“I’d follow you to the moon if you asked.”

Eddie smiled. “I followed you into hell, so it’s only fitting.”

Steve laughed. “Of course.” He took a beat to consider it and continued, “I mean, we can get a little house somewhere and have a couple pets, babysit for the neighbors, grow a little garden. I’d like that.”

“I would too.” He flipped over so their chests pressed together, faces mere inches from each other. Eddie had a mischievous grin on his lips. “I get to pick at least one fight with someone on our street.”

“What for?”

“Blood feuds are the staple of suburbia, sweetheart. How am I to be properly domesticated if I can’t have that basic right?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if it comes to blows, I’m not bailing you out.”

“What if they really deserve it? Not even then?” He pouted, giving him those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t resist.

“You’re a menace.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

Steve pulled him close, basking in Eddie’s smile as he kissed him soft and slow. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have imagined that he’d be here with the whole world in his hands, content to let the hours pass by as they clung to one another.

He was safe. He was home.

Eddie drew back, fondness in his eyes as he posed the next question. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

His heart soared. “You mean…”

“Marry me, as soon as we can. Even if we have to run away.” Eddie slipped off the silver skull ring he always toyed with and held it out. “I’ll save up for wedding bands, I swear.”

He almost couldn’t get the words out, the way his heart pounded. “God, yes,” he whispered. The warm metal was snug on his finger, and then, then he was being kissed like the Earth was on the verge of collapse.

They held each other tight, joy and need spinning into something desperate that kept their lips moving against each other, hands tangled in clothes as they let gravity overtake them. Steve felt it snare around his heart, hook them together in a way he’d never protest.

He never had to let Eddie go again.

The crunch of tires in the driveway cut through his bliss. “Shit!” Eddie squeaked. “You didn’t say they’d be home early!”

“Maybe it’s just someone turning around.” The car came to a stop and cut off. “Son of a bitch.”

They sprang apart, rushing to make themselves presentable. His mother’s heels clicked up the steps.

Eddie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. He grabbed his wrist. “Hey. I love you, okay?”

One short nod. “I love you.”

The key rattled in the lock. He took a breath, composing his face into casual coolness before the door opened.

“Boys!” his mom called, wrapping him in a hug.

“Hey,” he replied, “how was tonight?”

“Oh, it was fine. I’m just a bit tired today, so we figured we oughtta come on home.” She frowned. “We did miss dessert, though. I think I’ll have a slice of pie before bed. Come have some, Eddie.”

She had him by the arm before he could protest. He threw a panicked glance over his shoulder, but Richard’s grip on Steve’s arm stopped any interference. “Steve told me you’ve got family in Tennessee. What part?”

“Just outside Savannah, ma’am.”

“You don’t want to get involved in that.” Richard let him go. “Let’s talk in my office.”

Steve felt like he was going to puke. He followed his dad down the hall, carefully sitting in the armchair across the desk.

Richard fell into the desk chair with a sigh. “You and him are seeing each other, correct?”

Cold sweat dripped down his spine. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

His dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why couldn’t it have been a good one like Tommy?”

Steve wasn’t normally this slow on the uptake, but it took a few moments for the dots to connect in his mind. “What?”

“You understand that you being with a man is going to make things harder for you, right?” He nodded. “And him having murder accusations worsens it.”

“Obviously false accusations.”

His dad smiled wryly. “Not the way a lot of people in town see it. And your mom went over those NDAs with a fine tooth comb. They’re watertight.”

“Hold on, are you mad that I’m in love with a guy, or are you mad that the guy is Eddie?”

“The latter, and I’m not mad, just disappointed.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “I’m not losing my only son because of who you fell in love with.”

The confusion must have been apparent, because he continued. “Your mother and I love you, and nothing’s going to change that. We just want to make sure you’re safe and he’s treating you right.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, um, yeah. Sorry, this… this is not how I expected this to go.”

“You know how to be a gentleman, and you shouldn’t tolerate any less from him.”

“He’s been perfectly sweet. Why— Why are you not freaking out about this?”

Richard gave him a look. “Have you ever really thought about how we call Terry your uncle even though he’s just Mark’s roommate and we’re not really related?”

“Well, yeah, they’ve lived together for fifteen… Oh.” The final piece clicked into place.

“Yep. Kinda saw it coming, to be honest. You’re a bit vain for your own good.” He shrugged. “You boys are being safe, right?”

“Dad!”

“And not just with the sex stuff. You can handle yourselves in a fight?”

Steve, despite never having won any fight against a human person, nodded.

“Good.” He stood and walked around the desk to wrap Steve in a brief hug. “You’re my son, and you’ll always be welcome here.” Just as briskly, he let go.

“Thanks,” Steve winced at the sound of his voice cracking.

Helen’s voice rang out warmly. “Good night, Eddie! Drive safe!”

He took that as his cue to step out. In the hall, he found Eddie, face pale and eyes wide as they flicked back and forth from his parents’ bedroom and the plate in his hands.

Eddie turned to face him with a haunted look. “I’m scared of your mom.”

Richard clapped him on the back. “We all are, son. You boys don’t stay up too late.” With that he walked down the hall, shaking his head. Eddie was smarter than he looked. Maybe it’d be good for Steve to keep him around.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #isemilyreal on ao3 #they're stupid your honor

374 notes · View notes

crystallizsch · 2 months

Note

Hello! I really like your art and comics with Jamil and your OC. It looks very cute!

I just want your thoughts on this as a Jamil lover. I really like Jamil but Idk why??? I like him so much that I cry whenever I don't get his card or daily greetings at login. He's not usually my type like Izuku or Tanjiro. Just want to know your thoughts since you like Jamil hehe. It's ok if you don't respond!

AAH THANK YOU SO MUCH it means a lot to hear you like them i really appreciate it!! 💖💕💖💕💖

ANYWAYS as a jamil enthusiast i ask myself that question too 🤠;;

dont know what kinda hypnotizing magic he did on me but it worked bc i was incredibly neutral about jamil when i first saw him and now he lives in my head rent-free

okay in all seriousness i ended up rambling about jamil and why i like him personally and it ended up longer than intended so uh proceed with caution under the cut 🧍

(i had to look up the characters you mentioned,,, i know both of the anime but BARELY know the characters so idk how to compare other than they seem to be the benevolent hero/protagonist type???) (so on that note theyre actual opposites??? of jamil 😭)

okay so for me i personally just find jamil’s character really fascinating (and relatable???)

like his character arc drew me in i think, i legit do not recall 100% how i started liking him bc he was NOT my usual type either

i saw him before book 4 and went “okay” 🤷 and moved on 😭

my usual type is kalim actually (the sunshine type with a depressing reason for being all sunshine-y lmao) but. i did not vibe at first with how kalim looks so i didnt really get attached to him either 🤧 (im absolutely fine with him now tho 😭 ive learned to appreciate him more thanks to other kalim enjoyers)

(and tbf a lot of twst characters i didnt think i would like but here we are)

back to jamil. alright maybe it’s his looks. maybe bc he’s a pretty guy idk. but if that’s the case i wouldve been all over vil bc he’s the definition of beautiful gorgeous guy who doesnt fw with gender norms but im NOT. instead it’s JAMIL.

i think it doesn’t help that aladdin is one of my favorite disney movies too 😭 jafar has that two-faced, manipulative disposition with a side of dramatic, and insane and that’s. actually just jamil.

so maybe i guess what drew me in with jamil is that sense of theatrics, the dramatics ;;; that dichotomy of having that level-headed, intelligent front he puts up but then also having this unhinged, unfiltered side that he shows when he is free to be more himself

i’m a sucker for seemingly calm and collected characters on the outside and then their true self being WAY more different and expressive

(i think this would make more sense if you’ve seen aladdin and if you remember how jafar is like in the movie) (i am also choosing to ignore that ONE scene with jafar and jasmine towards the end iykyk) (and the twst characters shouldnt be considered one-to-one with their disney counterparts anyway but i digress)

also scalding sands event my beloved it might be what actually sold me on him bc things like his little sister reveal and his childhood stories wrecked me

(also also i’m obsessed with his canon dynamic with kalim but that’s another thing altogether)

or maybe it’s not that deep and that i just grew attached for no particular reason 🧍 (and that reasoning in of itself should be completely fine as well if that’s your case! just. like who you like, there really doesnt have to be a reason as long as you enjoy them)

uhhhh in conclusion,,, jamil’s a really complex character tbh i could say so much more about his relatability but i feel like im already exposing myself a lot LMAO and i dont think i can properly articulate with words anyway how deeper his character is beyond my surface level thoughts

#[—✦ chatting #HELPP IM SORRY #i ended up rambling about why i like this dude 😭😭😭#it looks like i’m saying a lot but idk i feel like im just saying nothing 😭#anyways THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS KIND ASK 🫶#and sorry this took a bit to answer 😭#i was back and forth on how i wanted to answer this #and it ended up being a LONG rambling #it couldve been a shitposty one but no 😭#also this might be the first time i brain dumped about jamil???#i’m 🧍🧍🧍

22 notes · View notes

w98pops · 1 year

Text

TW: SUICIDE MENTION, VIOLENCE

i knew i said i would take a little break, but ive been mentally declining a lot and drawing my silly guys is my way of coping. I never actually properly drew Wendy from 2301, so im filling in the blanks.

I'd like to think of her as a person who never actually... grows up. She just kinda gets taller and more sad over time. Wendy was always very vulnerable but cheerful, and House kinda groomed her into a serious and politically aware person, still unbelievably vulnerable but a viable subject nonetheless. I always had this problem with writing her relationship with another canon character, no one realistically would give a fuck about her and her opinions. Sure, maybe Arcade will pity Wendy because she's "stupid" from a neurotypical point of view, but other than that, she doesn't have any weight in any political conversation that's going on in the Mojave. So I made her really fucking stubborn. Annoyingly so. Wendy just... gets the job done. She's resourceful, efficient and very easy to manipulate. A perfect fit for a House's courier, I think. She doesn't question his orders, she does not care for consequences as long as she has House as her cover (a trait she inherited from her step-father) and she's sometimes sociopathic and numb to voices of empathy. Not in a "edgelord murder killer girl" way but more like. She doesn't see people who hurt her as humans. A coping mechanism that would probably be the end of her, sometime in the future. I mean, she did confront Benny and got really physical. There was no way she could've win a fight against a grown ass man, and Benny did beat the shit out of her, but in the end he was the one with a cracked open skull. I just like to think that her pure madness and helplessness was enough to fuel her mind and overpower something she had no chance against in the first place. SPEAKING OF CHANCE. That's why I think she would totally get along with Chance, the Khan from the comic. I don't really put a thought about how he would've survived or joined her, but they're pretty much soulmates. They have very different backgrounds, personalities, literally anything, but Chance recognises her rage. Her inability to do what's right and the constant fight against unfightable (?) circumstances she's facing every day. I'd like to think he's autistic too. As a treat.

So yeah, she's super uncertain about anything in her life, and that makes her a very useful tool in the hands of a right man. Mr. House mastefully manipulated her personality in a conventional way, taught her the secret and mysterious knowledge of "masking" and sat her down for a few years to teach her ways of the capital and created this really sad but smart and charismatic politician with no real political voice whatsoever. She's also very cute and sweet looking so yeah. He made himself a Tandi. 😭😭 Also he scanned her brains, which would totally not be a big plot point for the future.

Almost perfect, but Sharky is here too, for some reason. He's the biggest pain in the House's ass since Benny. He has a certain emotional intellect, not easy to bribe or manipulate in mental or physical way, he really fucking cares for his sister, and is very aware of the things The Big Guy does to her. See, Sharky wasn't raised by his sister, she was a child herself at that time, and his mother didn't play much role either, too busy bickering with Aletus and then later too busy drinking and fucking in Gomorrah. Sharky was raised by the Strip and the rules of Wasteland. He might not be the smartest guy alive, but emotionally he's mature beyond belief. He's very observant, empathetic and cunning person. Even tho he was mute most of his childhood because of child neglect and untreated autism, he has incredible social skills and a Yes-man in his basement he found while renovating the Tops. He has a plan. Not a good one, but a plan nonetheless.

I have so much OC material I'm ought to write a fanfic. Or a comic, idk. In my dreams, sure, but it's still refreshing to talk about my ocs and draw them, and recieving feedback and praise for my storytelling skills 😭😭😭 it means a lot. Thank you all for reading this far!!!

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #oc: wendy #oc: sharky

51 notes · View notes

grayintogreen · 6 months

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY

HELLO HELLO. It's Roseverse week, so here's a bit from Chapter Five of OWDLIF, featuring Alastor stirring up shit and being genuinely himself.

He trailed a claw around the rim of his teacup. “I don’t think this is necessarily all that it seems.”

Carmilla winced, but her tongue was venomous when she drawled, “Is that the Great Radio Demon’s only take?”

Out of respect for Zestial, he would never dream of bringing Carmilla onto his radio show to see if she screamed as well as she danced, but every so often, the impulse rose like hot, wet black bile oozing up his throat. He drowned it with more tea. “Are you feeling all right, Carmilla? There was a lot of unfortunate information thrown out during that confrontation, after all.”

Another wince- ah yes, there you are. There truly was no limit to the pots he could stir tonight. He wished he’d actually had a hand in any of them, but being in an annoying situation didn’t mean he couldn’t dip his finger to sample someone else’s folly and see how it could benefit him. “Clara and Odette have been looking over reports since the meeting. There have been discrepancies in some of our shipments.” Her shoulders drew inwards and Zestial rose slowly to hover over her. “This was never supposed to happen. I have been careful, meticulous…“

“You can’t close Pandora’s Box once it’s been opened,” Alastor mused, only to brighten, a bit maliciously. “Congratulations, Carmilla, you’ve single-handedly changed the face of Hell as we know it! Good job!”

Carmilla slammed her hands down on the table- would have upended his teacup, too, if he hadn’t had the foresight to pick it up and raise it to his lips. She growled like a tiger in his face and he simply waited for her temper to cool. She wouldn’t strike him down any more than he would strike her down. He had respect for women so long as they respected him and she had respect for his uncanny ability to take out most of the trash he didn’t find amusing, even if sometimes she slipped into forgetting who she was talking to, simply because she was older.

“It is strange, isn’t it?” He said, coquettishly. “That Aamon had so much to say for himself and yet the only person who revealed anything of value was Prince Stolas’s little pet.”

“I would not call that imp a pet.” Carmilla pushed herself away from the table again. Zestial’s gaze flicked from her to Alastor, eyes widening in sympathy for her retreating back, then turning to a deep look of bemusement at the deeply amused deer demon. Alastor couldn’t be bothered by the discourse he was stirring up- to stick to the pot metaphor, they needed to be stirred, actually, and by someone who knew how to properly cook.

Once more at the window, Carmilla bowed her head. “How many families have I destroyed with my back turned, Zestial?”

“Thou cannot keep thine eyes open at all times. Thy daughters will find thy leak and make short work of the traitor.”

“But Alastor is right,” she sighed. “It will never be the way I intended it to be. It won’t simply go back to the way it was.”

That was his cue. Alastor rose to his feet, staff crackling into his hand so he didn’t have to turn at an angle to snatch it up physically. He strolled closer to the window, peering over Carmilla’s shoulders into the sickly green curtain of the acid rain, illuminated by flashes of bright red lightning.

“Don’t miss my point fretting over the dead, Carmilla. You can’t re-bury them yourself and call it penance. The only way to protect what we have is by getting blood on your face.” He added, almost sweetly, “Here’s a free tip, since you heard just as much as I did and you’re a bit too distracted to fully get the big picture. I would be looking towards Wrath for your answers.”

He pulled back, dancing away before she could rear back and grab him by the throat for daring to invade her space and offer advice like the proverbial devil on her shoulder. “Think about it.” He sing-songed, and headed for the door, pausing only to thank Zestial for the tea and the scintillating conversation.

#wip wednesday #hazbin hotel fic #red roses and dead things #my writing

12 notes · View notes

writingsfromstarfleet · 2 years

Text

Will Riker - Hurt

♫ - Valentine - Laufey

A/N: For the lovely @too-many-baes, who’s forever brilliant and very patient. I appreciate you all loads, enjoy!! Hugs! - Mal x

Bridge shifts were not easy, in fact they were far from it. Working on the bridge meant being in the direct eye of the captain, and not only the captain, but the Commander. They could see your every move and your every mistake, not to mention the fact that you were hopelessly in love with the first officer.

Commander Riker was something else, and it felt more than a crush to you. There was something about him that just stood out to you, and drew you in. But, you knew that not being a senior officer meant there was nearly no chance of him feeling the same, and you were certain he had feelings for the Councillor still.

Away missions were always your go to, and you loved being able to explore the lands and planets below you. Excitement built up in you for one mission specifically, one where you would be able to see the rock formations and plant life of a civilization you knew nothing about. But, when it came to choosing people for the mission, you weren't picked. You never were.

"Excuse me, sir," you stopped Will and pulled his sleeve ever so slightly. "I was wondering why you chose Ensign Cody over me, sir? I'm more qualified in this field of study than them."

"That may be so, Y/N, however I asked for Cody."

"But why?"

Your question went unanswered, and he walked off with the away team for their mission. Huffing, you made your way to Ten Forward for some therapy with Guinan. She always did make you feel better.

Your time in the bar was short lived, as there was an emergency happening with the team down on the surface. Racing back to the bridge, you had hoped nothing happened to Will, or any of them. Your fears came true, however, and the captain ordered you and Lieutenant Worf to the transporter room to help the team when they got back.

Commander Riker was in a bad state, having sustained injuries from phaser fire and some burns on his hands. Worf had carried him to medbay, where you offered to stay so Worf could resume his duties, being more of a capable bridge officer than yourself.

"Will he be okay?"you asked Beverly, as she had finished tending to him after an agonizingly long amount of time waiting.

"He should be, would you like to stay with him to make sure, Y/N?"

You nodded, and her voice was sympathetic enough that you knew she would leave you be. Telling you she was in her office if needed, Beverly left you with Will to tend to him and look over him. Moving a small bit of his hair back into its usual style, you sighed and looked him over, hoping he would recover.

Hours had passed, and you had fallen asleep. Will stirred, glancing over at the dead weight besides him, and saw your head gently lay on the edge of his bed. A smile crept onto his face, and he moved a strand of hair back from your face. He was so distracted by you that he failed to notice the doctor on the other side of him.

"They've been here for about five hours, pretty much since you came in, Will. I don't know what they are to you, but it must be something special."

"It would seem, doc."

You woke, and Will was sat up drinking.

"Hello, sleepy head."

You shot to attention, having been embarrassed that you even fell asleep in the first place.

"Ah, sir, uh-" you started, not knowing where to look. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep, I brought you here to, well - Lieutenant Worf brought you here, but I stayed to check you were okay, I shouldn't have-"

"Sit down." Will's voice was light hearted, and he motioned for you to sit again. You did so, in shock. He hadn't really ever spoken to you properly, this was probably the first time he ever had done, more than just an assignment or work related things.

"I wanted to thank you," he began, that charming smile on his face. "For waiting with me and checking I was going to be okay. Doctor Crusher told me all about it."

"Ah, that's okay. I'm just doing what a good officer would do."

"But is it just that?"

You looked at him slightly wide eyed, and he stared back, almost knowingly, as though he knew you wanted to say something. Your hands came together and you twiddled your fingers between each other, a thing you always did when you were nervous.

"Why do you never pick me for away missions, sir?"

Will tilted his head to the side, wondering what you meant and encouraging you to continue.

"Well, I know that you chose Cody today, and I know that Cody is more than capable of that mission, but I was definitely more qualified. The geology aspect of it was literally my field of work entirely. My whole career is studying plant and rock families. It's not the first time, last mission you chose someone else, and the time before that. I just want to know why I'm-"

"Because I don't want you getting hurt."

You stopped dead in your tracks and train of thought, giving Will the time space to continue.

"I've liked you for quite some time, Y/N, but I never acted on it. Partly because I didn't think it was professional, but partly because I didn't think you might see me like that. I thought perhaps you might just see me as your commanding officer and nothing more, today proved different though. I know you're a Starfleet officer and every day you could get hurt, it's part of the job, but I didn't want you getting hurt if we could help it."

"I don't know what to say, Commander." You were too stunned to speak, and he smiled at you again and took your hand.

"Then don't say anything until 19:00 hours tomorrow in Ten Forward?"

Your eyebrow raised and you couldn't help the giggle that came from you, hearing his laugh only spurred it on.

"Smooth." Your voice was relaxed and playful, and he looked at you so differently. It was honest and loving, and pure.

"Is it a date then, Y/N?"

"It is, Will. It is."

#star trek #star trek imagine #star trek x reader #star trek the next generation #star trek tng #the next generation #william riker #will riker #will riker x reader #will riker imagine #x reader #imagine

80 notes · View notes

ohheyjudesummers · 1 year

Text

Pride Aside - part 3 (Gojo Fanfic)

The other part's are right here <3

I really messed up this time.

As the party continues into the night, the possibility, the fact, becomes much clearer to Gojo. He catches sight of you from way across the yard. You’re keeping your distance—your space—from him and easily gravitated towards a group of mutual friends.

She’s finally single and I end up putting a huge wedge between us. Way to go, Genius, he thinks, his shoulders sagging slightly.

He observes you in real time as you interact with others, gradually easing the tense demeanor he'd unintentionally induced in you. Even with the lovely lady in front of him gushing about how good he was on the ice, he found himself drifting in and out of the conversation. More so when he noticed you tucking a thick strand of your kinky, curly hair behind your ear as you brought the rim of your cup to your lips to take a sip. He couldn't help but scan your face.

Typical blush was not visible on your brown skin, but Gojo could tell you were at least slightly drunk at this point. You were a lot more smiley and giggly at whatever was being said to you, which was a telltale sign from previous events he had observed when you guys used to drink together more frequently.

The corner of Gojo's mouth twitches in time with the fluttering in his chest, recalling those moments. Specifically, the ones where the two of you get drunk alone together.

He knew it probably didn't mean much to you, but it meant a lot to him.

Under the influence of liquor, he could be a little more vulnerable with you during those times—even if it was a lame and partial excuse. At the same time, he tried to push past the guilt because it got him the results he desired—your undivided attention and affection. You two would crack jokes and talk about anything and everything. You'd allow him to hug you, or lay his head on your lap—his second favorite thing to do since you tended to run your fingers soothingly through the scalp of his snow-white hair.

His all-time favorite had to be when you'd fall asleep on him, either on his shoulder or on his chest. Gojo was taken aback by the amount of heat that rushed from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. And he didn't miss the tingly sparks igniting in his groin. But he'd grown to find comfort in the feeling rather quickly. He started to crave it more. And you.

But then Jason showed up.

Gojo started seeing less and less of you after that, even when he and Drew weren't traveling for games and were in town. You always seemed too busy to either come to Drew's parties or weren't home when Gojo himself stopped by your place. And when Gojo did get to see you, Jason was nearly attached to your hip. It was exceedingly annoying—to the point where he couldn't help but play agitator when you were around. Making jokes to an almost bothersome limit was a go to for him, although he wasn't really picky in his methods of derailing your mood when you were with Jason.

Gojo knew no one would think twice about his joking around; it was a well-known personality trait of his. No one would suspect that he was acting on a much deeper and more complex feeling that he'd been harboring for years. Feelings that, despite his confidence, he was unsure how to express.

Or if he even should express them.

Be this as it may, Gojo knew it didn't properly excuse the way he went about things—how he stepped out of line. You deliberately avoided him and made him feel uncomfortable in his own skin.

But how could he make it right at this point?

The question burned into Gojo's mind as the minutes passed at the party. Even as people spoke to him, it was all he could think about.

"Hey man, do you want another drink?"

Gojo's attention was drawn to one of his teammates' slightly slurred voice.

How long had it been since he walked over to speak with them? Gojo could have sworn he was much more sober at the time. How had he gotten drunk so quickly?

Clearly, he'd been so preoccupied with you that he hadn't noticed the passage of time.

Perhaps it wasn't so much that Gojo had lost track of time as it was that the potency of the drinks provided was elevating things.

That's when Gojo took a good look around the backyard. Everyone was at least tipsy by now. Even he was beginning to feel a buzz. He still had a good amount of liquor left in his solo cup. A part of him thinks to drink what's left and go for a full refill. But then his eyes back over to where you were.

Even while you refilled your own drink at the table and nodded as someone spoke with you, you still exuded delight.

Yes, you were always like this when you decided to drink: carefree, giddy, open, and accessible.

In that moment, an idea started to form in Gojo's mind.

"Actually, I'm alright." He gave his teammate a sluggish smile. "I think I may have had enough for the night."

"Seriously?? You don't want any more?" Drew, who'd been preoccupied with flirting with one of the girls at his side, turned his attention toward him.

Gojo observed that Drew was easy to get past the sobriety line, much like his sister, which tended to impair Drew's awareness and make him somewhat predictable.

All of this, disgracefully, could work in Gojo's favor tonight.

No hard feelings, Drew. I was too slow before, but there's no way in Hell I can just sit and let Y/n slip away again. I don't have that in me.

"What, you think I need another cup?" Gojo skillfully led on.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I know you can be a lightweight, Bro. But I swear to God, it feels like you've been nursing that same drink for a while now." He chuckles. "You distracted or something?"

Gojo's stomach dropped at that moment. That is, until Drew gave a seemingly knowing nod to the busty Drunk girl sitting by Gojo's side.

Oh, he thinks I'm interested in...

He felt relief wash over him.

In all honesty, Gojo didn't remember the girl's name, despite Drew telling him once as they were walking over to the girls and the girls introducing themselves a second time.

The thought did pass to ask her for her name again. But with his mind wandering to thoughts of you and the girl herself knocking drinks back-to-back in between her talking, he didn't see the point. Plus, he didn't find her attractive.

But apparently Drew thought otherwise.

Gojo simply gave a chuckle in response before taking a long sip from his cup and standing.

"I'm gonna take your advice and get another drink."

"Alright. But hey, could you check on Y/N while you’re over there? I love my sis but I don’t feel like babysitting right now; You know she’s a lightweight. “ Don’t I know it.

Gojo flashes a sheepish smile “I got it, man.” A part of Gojo felt bad when he spoke those four words just before turning to walk off. He was aware that he wasn't completely considering his best friend's wishes with genuine intentions aside from what he wanted at this moment. Gojo made it his mission to never seem too eager when the chance came to be alone with you. He imagined he did a decent job of at least throwing Drew off the fact that he secretly had feelings for you. It wasn't that he thought his friend wasn't smart enough to figure it out. But, simply put, the task of pulling wool over his friend's eyes was easy because Gojo was aware that your brother didn't like to involve himself in your personal affairs. ‘As long as she's safe and no one hurts her, it's fine’ . But, unbeknownst to you, Gojo was aware of a few instances where Drew could become an overprotective little brother. Hence, he didn't want to be so reckless and risk alerting him.

So, yes, Gojo was aware that the way he was going about this was deceitful and maybe a bit manipulative. Yet still, that didn't stop his gaze from zeroing in on you as you seemingly excused yourself from your group.

It didn't stop the little extra pep in his step as he followed in your pace; watching as you steadily bobbed and weaved through scattered people, towards Drews house alone.

Tonight, he’d make sure you knew without a doubt how serious he was about you.

©JUDESUMMERS. Please do not copy, Translate, Plagiarize, or repost (sharing via link is excluded) without permission. This story is only uploaded on Tumblr, Wattpad and AO3. Anywhere else under any other name besides JUDESUMMERS is prohibited

Author's note: Omg thanks for sticking it out with me! I've been swamped with work and got a little depressed about some personal affairs, so that put me off, but I'm slowly getting back into things and working on a consistent schedule for both my fic's and my stories on Amazon/Kindle Vella. There are maybe one or two more chapters in this short story. The next part will be for ages18 and up because of explicit and dark themes and will come with warnings.

22 notes · View notes

a-crimson-dawn · 2 years

Text

Kiss the Girl - Multi-Ship One-shot

Content Warning: Contains kissing, romance and cringe.

Genres: Romance, Comedy (?)

Pairings: Nozel x Dorothy, Yami x Charlotte, William x Mereoleona

Other characters: Nacht, Langris

Well, this was… awkward.

Rather unexpectedly, they had found themselves in the middle of a lake, on a boat - that part, he could explain, actually, by the nature of their mission, the baffling part comes later - surrounded by singing birds. That too, would not have been out of ordinary, had they not been singing a rather dubious ditty, something along the lines of:

There you see her

Sitting there across the way

She don't got a lot to say

But there's something about her

And you don't know why

But you're dying to try

You wanna kiss the girl

It did not help, that he couldn’t help but catch himself staring at her from time to time, unable to pull his gaze away from the red haired beauty before him for too long a period of time. There was just something about her, and about this location, and about, well… all sorts of things really, that drew his eyes towards her. And he’d been sure she would have noticed, as observant and sharp as she could be, trained to respond fast, quite possibly by all those years of survival in the wilderness.

And as the birds sang, the fish leapt out of the water, the insects carelessly fluttered around in the air, and overhanging branches dipped into the water, enclosing them into something of a wooden cocoon, wherever the water was shallow enough, or wherever there were small islands of land, it felt as if this strange, twitterpating atmosphere was difficult to escape. He was also certain that he was very much doomed. That those piercing turquoise eyes of hers saw right through him into his soul and his flustered heart, as it beat nervously out of rhythm in anticipation of her rejection. His stomach performing all kinds of acrobatics in that moment did not help the matter.

“Vangeace… do you know why those birds are serenading us right now?” He’d never known Mereoleona to be… awkward, and yet, here her voice sounded stilted and uncertain. And, perhaps it was the lighting, or perhaps his own wishful fantasies filling in the blanks in his vision, but he could have sworn he’d seen a faint blush appear on her face.

No, he was definitely delusional. Mereoleona Vermillion did not blush. Surely.

Yes, you want her

That didn’t mean the idea of her blushing didn’t have its… merits. Actually he found it rather cute -

‘Focus, you idiot, you’re on a mission.’

Look at her, you know you do

At the back of his mind, a small voice chipped in: ‘since when do birds singing in the human tongue like so? Parrots perhaps, but these are definitely passerine birds.’

Another, louder voice, was far too busy swooning over the lady, completely ignoring her confused looks. He could feel his cheeks heat up; he did want her, and had for a long time, and perhaps had he not been such a coward-

Possible she wants you too

“Any particular reason why you’re staring at me, Vangeance?” That almost sounded more as a tease than a question.

“N-no - I am not- I-”

‘Why can’t words form properly?’ His mind in chaos, at his head feeling rather warm and confused with all the conflicting and intense emotions, he could hardly think straight, let alone talk.

There is one way to ask her

It don't take a word

Not a single word

Her eyes seemed to light up then, and briefly, she looked away to coast, only refocus on him a few seconds later. Really, the side view was just as nice as -

‘Focus!’ But that cautious voice was already losing its strength.

Go on and kiss the girl

Faster than he could think, with his clearest thought being that one last line, guiding him through something he would have ordinarily done, he leaned in

and kissed Mereoleona Vermillion.

And so William Vangeance became past tense.

Except…

he lived, apparently.

Against all possible logic, against every rational thought in his mind, he kissed a woman who would surely loathe such an advance from him.

And she kissed him back.

---

It was only natural that his colleagues would not believe him.

Yami Sukehiro calling his retelling bullshit did not surprise him in the least. “Okay, first of all, Vengeance, how the fuck are you not dead? Second of all, why her? Third of all, you need to see a shrink, because there is no fucking way birds sing like that.”

Nevertheless, William still found himself embarrassed by the very idea. Granted, he’d made a lot of bad decisions, but they lived in a world of magic; he wasn’t sure why he would need therapy over something like this, as strange as it had been. “I think you may have a poor opinion of Lady Mereoleona, Yami… she’s no murderer…” At least, not when it wasn’t strictly necessary. Then again, he too had assumed he’d be dead by now… so it was rather hypocritical of him to judge. “Besides, I am sure you would have kissed Lady Charlotte two if you had gone there yourselves…”

“As, if,” Yami scoffed, glancing for a moment in the direction of the Blue Rose Knights captain. “Besides, Prickly and Sisgoleon aren’t even the same species. You weren’t kissing a lady back there, but a she-beast in human clothing. That was basically beastiality you committed, I hope you know that, Vengeance!”

“...” He raised a brow.

“...” Yami shot him an intent look. Did he really commit such a terrible faux pas in his eyes? Was he jealous perhaps?

“... That still wouldn’t be the most morally reprehensible thing I’ve ever committed,” William shrugged it off eventually. “Besides, Lady Mereoleona is clearly a woman… a human woman. A very human woman.”

Yami choked on the bottle of sake in his hand, then shuddered. “There’s something disturbing about the idea of you screwing her -”

“We didn’t-!”

“Something in the matter here?” a familiar voice boomed across the room even as a certain woman appeared beside them.

“Whatever you say, you kinky, delusional, masked bastard. I’m gonna prove you wrong on those words, and when I do, you’ll have to fess up to your weird fetishes in the next meeting, Goldie Guts,” the dark haired captain turned away to take his leave. No doubt he would enjoy every moment of William embarrassing himself, and honestly, he had far too little time to think to respond to that proclamation. Then again… it wasn’t like had much to worry about.

Even if he was suffering from auditory hallucinations, it wasn’t like he had much to “confess” about…

Right?

“So, about yesterday, Vengeance…”

---

Dammit, why did Vangeance even go to such a suss looking lake. Everything about it just felt off. Even so, he tried to remain his ever-so charming and calm self in front of Charlotte.

“So-er… Prickly… you… wanna get in the boat, or what?”

He had to admit, he found it somewhat endearing to see the thorny captain so out of her element. Clearly, she much rather preferred standing on dry land, as she looked at the small rowing boat with hesitation and reluctance. Or… maybe she just hated the idea of sharing a boat with him. That didn’t really explain the faint red tint about her cheeks.

“Are all men so impatient, or is it just you?” came an irritable retort. Well, that had taken her a surprisingly long time.

Still, he brushed off the comment, and grinned back at her. Even if they couldn’t get along as well as he’d hoped, winding her up and getting her nerves could also be entertaining. ‘A life with her would never get boring…’ He’d give her that much.

Finally she took a step into the boat, only to wobble -

and send them both toppling into the boat when Yami lost his balance trying to right her.

Smooth.

Although, the view from down there wasn’t too bad-

Now's your moment (ya, ya, ya)

Wait, where did that come from? And what was up with all those damned birds surrounding them? Animals - except for his beasts - had never been particularly fond of Yami.

He would have gotten up to check, but Prickly was still very much on top of him, looking flustered, confused, fumbling about, trying to figure out what to do, as if her brain had just short-circuited and somehow she didn’t know how to get back up again.

Didn’t help that she had managed to push the boat off the bank and it was now slowly headed in the middle of the lake.

Floating in a blue lagoon (ya, ya, ya)

Sure, there was nothing to fear for him - the lake was calm compared to the seas he was used to, and even if it were rough, he had now magic which he could use to protect them both, even if the boat toppled over - but it was more the isolation and… Charlotte’s… unhelpful panicking.

“Cool it, prickly, we’re not going to end up sleeping with the fishes, anytime soon,” Yami found himself reassuring her. This of course, only made her blush more, before glaring at him. “Besides, that’s more Vangeance’s thing, apparently, than mine.”

“I-I am not panicking. A good captain should always keep a cool head,” she insisted, in her haughtiest voice, pushing up against his chest as she sat up. Or maybe she had intended to hit him and then thought better of it. Who knew with women? “Don’t presume you know my emotional state,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

He was sure it was supposed to look intimidating.

Scolding and disapproving even.

It probably wasn’t supposed to look hot.

But he found that Charlotte’s alluring, fae like looks didn’t exactly lend themselves to “intimidating”.

And so he barked out a laugh, much to the woman’s chagrin. “Sure. Cool headed. Whatever your say, Briars.”

Boy, you better do it soon

No time will be better (ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya)

What was up with those damn feathered pests?

He hated the idea of having to concede to Vangeance. Especially since he wasn’t quite done holding a grudge against him over that elf fuck up.

Charlotte didn’t seem particularly fazed by the song though, and seemed to be looking at him more than at the birds, almost expectantly. Still, maybe it was because being so close to a guy was new to her?

“Enjoying the view,” he teased.

Turning a deeper red, she immediately looked away and would have probably stood up, if he didn’t capture her hand in his, holding her down. It was weird that she was looking at him with such a… lack of contempt, for one. She didn’t even respond with an insult that time.

She don't say a word

And she won't say a word

Perhaps it was the song, weaving ideas into his head, but, with standard Black Bull impulsiveness he thought, maybe he could figure her out and end this awkwardness with a single move. ‘Until you kiss the girl.’ Though by the time his lips were pressed against hers, he was starting to wonder if listening to the birds had been a good idea.

It wasn’t that her lips weren’t soft.

Or that she’d stiffened against him, or in some other way showed a dislike towards the gesture. No, she seemed to relax actually, even parted his lips in invitation. He was sure she’d even temporarily embraced him, right until the kiss had ended and those arms pulled away.

It was just that at that point his mind was starting to clear up. And he was starting to remember Charlotte’s vicious streak.

The sound of her hand connecting with his face in SMACK! as he pulled away made him blink.

“Huh?”

“That was for Spade kingdom,” she breathed out, glaring at him. In a whisper she added, “you reckless idiot.”

Wait, what happened in Spade?

“And this,” she then added, leaning in, and cutting off his confused response with a kiss. As she pulled away, leaving him dazed, she continued, “is for everything else.”

Nevermind Vangeance’s singing birds.

Prickly was a far greater enigma.

“You know… I wouldn’t mind you calling me an idiot if it were followed by a kiss each time,” he found himself saying, nevertheless… probably because he was drunk on their kisses and the resulting brain chemicals, or whatever Mr Overly Serious had claimed was responsible for this love-y dove-y feeling he was experiencing right now.

---

Nozel had no idea what Sukehiro and Vangeance were talking about.

Something about talking birds, flying fish and women acting out of character… but somehow he got dragged into the conversation anyway.

“Hey, Lord KillJoy, wanna check out this magical lake?” Considering Sukehiro had literally dragged him into the conversation - much to the royal’s indignation - he clearly didn’t have a choice to say no. Dealing with Yami was almost as impossible as dealing with Mereoleona.

Except, to choose his cousin over Yami was infinitely more terrifying.

“What ridiculous notion are you choosing to bring up in front of me today, Sukehiro?” Of course, he knew what he was going to suggest - he’d overheard more or less all of their talk and wouldn’t put it past Sukehiro to make a competition about just about anything, but still… a confirmation couldn’t hurt.

Except, it could.

It very much could.

Especially when it involved spending time with a certain witch in the middle of a lake on a small boat, isolated with only his own confused feelings to keep him company. Feelings that didn’t seem to understand professionalism, or their status as colleagues, or the fact that he could absolutely not just fall for anybody he wanted to. He was royalty. Ultimately, he’d probably end up with someone of his father’s choosing.

Those infernal birds weren’t helping matters.

‘Keep a cool head. Don’t let feelings get in the way of what is rational and necessary…’ He’d tried to remind himself.

Dorothy, on the other hand, seemed perfectly calm; cheerful even. She had no qualms about any of this. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Dipping her hands into the water, looking up at the sky…

“Look how pretty this place is!” she stated the obvious, but this much went amiss with Nozel, who was focusing on something else that appeared far superior to the lake in its beauty.

‘Her eyes look beautiful when they’re open and full of wonder like this…’ an intrusive voice commented. He wished it would go away, but that same voice had much else to say about the woman he was forced to share a space with.

‘They’re just eyes,’ another voice reminded him sharply.

The music, however, didn’t seem to agree.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Don't be scared (sha-la, sha-la-la ya, ya, ya)

You got the mood prepared (woah, woah)

And as the boat slowly moved through the water, he couldn’t help but relax, as the lyrics weaved themselves into his mind, forming a warm, comforting blanket around his thoughts, allowing only some thoughts to the surface. The irrational ones. The soft ones. The scandalous and impulsive ones.

The ones that prompted him to regard the way her mouth moved too keenly. The ones that enjoyed her voice far too much. The ones that wanted to…

Well… he wasn’t really sure what they wanted to do, to be honest.

He’d never exactly given much time or thought to that in the past, and whenever something did pop up, he was normally quick to banish it.

But now he couldn’t calm his fast beating heart, or silence those thoughts, and…

…didn’t really want to.

Go on and kiss the girl

As she smiled at him, so sweetly, he couldn’t help but consider it. Wonder about it. How it would feel. How it would taste.

“Nozel-kun?” he saw her frown, as if in concern? For him? “Are you alright?”

Normally he would dismiss her worries and move onto the issue at hand, pretending as though nothing had happened. He had far too much pride to admit that currently he felt like some adolescent youth experiencing his first crush.

Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Don't stop now (sha-la, sha-la-la ya, ya, ya)

Don't try to hide it how

But he really couldn’t deny it, he was reminded by another intrusive thought, as his cheeks heated up. Besides, it was the perfect opportunity. No one else would see this. It was… just the two of them, really.

You want to kiss the girl

Which was how he found himself locking lips with the petite witch, closing the gap between them as he slowly gave into those impulsive thoughts.

Now that he had kissed her once, experiencing the sweet delight of it, along with her gentle touches, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to stop kissing her. Or let someone else kiss her, for that matter. Or for her to disappear from his life. He couldn’t just let her go now. Now that he’d given in, he couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose another person.

“Hehe… you didn’t tell me you were such a good kisser, Nozel-kun…” the little witch breathed out as she pulled away from the kiss. “Nozel-kun…?”

He couldn’t help but pull her even closer, if that was even possible.

“Don’t leave…” he said.

“please.”

Her gaze softened, as their eyes met. “I don’t plan on it,” she promised, grinning. “You’re stuck with me for good, whether you like it or not!”

---

“That was quite clever of you. I’m almost impressed, Vaude,” Nacht exclaimed, once that final scene had ended with Dorothy and Nozel returning to land, and the witch taking a detour to meet up with Charlotte while the Silver Eagles captain went to report to the Wizard King as though nothing had happened. "I wonder how you'd managed to get those magical birds..."

“I’m not at all impressed.” The two men turned around to regard Charlotte’s annoyed look. “Must there have been a boat ride in your plan?”

Langris only offered a mock apologetic expression. “Well, I apologise, but your nobleness seems to have forgotten to point out that she was afraid of water,” he drawled out, though he looked far too smug for this to have been an accident.

She looked as though she was about to murder him. “I am not afraid of water,” she insisted.

“Well, I thought it was a wonderful touch, boys!” another voice chirped as Dorothy popped up behind them. “I’m sure your captains would be proud of your match-making efforts.”

“Or they’d try to kill us,” Nacht said with a strained smile, rather concerned for his well-being, what with the little witch possessing a big mouth.

“Speak for yourself. Not all captains are uncivilised apes.”

“I still disagree with your methods, Vaude, Faust… I don’t see where precautions could have possibly been taken with this- what if things did not go as planned?”

“And that, Captain Charlotte, is why we did a test run…”

“Well, that certainly explains why you two fools had insisted on dragging myself and Vangeance out to the lake.” Their conversation, it seemed, had been joined by an unexpected guest. A rather severe looking one.

Dorothy giggled. “Enjoyed yourself, Mereoleona, dear?”

The fire Vermillion crossed her arms over her chest. “I never signed up to be a test subject,” she glowered at the two men. It seemed to finally dawn on them how potentially screwed they were.

“Oh, but the two of you made such a cute couple!”

“You damn voyeur,” the older woman regarded the witch in annoyance, “don’t tell me you watched all of it.”

“Only up to the part where you kissed him back!” the younger woman exclaimed as if that was in any way comforting. “It’s really quite fortunate that they managed to pick a suitable partner for you on such short notice. It’s quite impressive too - I mean, I half expected you to eat him, to be honest.”

The lioness gritted her teeth. “Why does everyone seem to think I eat men?”

“I gotta ask though, Sisgoleon, do you eat your men during or after copulation?” had been Yami’s words when she’d been considering potential hookups - safe to say that she didn’t go with Sukehiro. And not just because Lady Roselei had very obvious feelings for the man - although no one knew exactly why she did, she was sure.

“In all honesty, I have to admit, I was impressed that Sukehiro even knew the word “copulation”,” Nacht commented. “Still, I was sure then that I definitely couldn’t use Sukehiro as a test subject. Otherwise, with his people skills we could have ended months behind schedule.”

“Well, I did tell you that my captain was the best choice,” Langris exclaimed smugly.

Mereoleona raised a brow. “Based on what factors?”

He looked away. “Based on me walking in on him plucking petals off of a flower debating whether you hated him or not – the most awkward thirty seconds of my life as a vice captain.”

“And that made us compatible in your mind because…”

“Because I was there during your game of Marry, Kiss and Kill,” Nacht supplied, “considering I was concealed, I’m not surprised none of you three women noticed me.”

Charlotte turned-lobster red. “D-does that mean -”

Nacht nodded, wincing. “It means I heard everything said during that lunch meeting.”

“Everything-everything?” she squeaked.

He shot her a serious look. “Everything.”

“I regret nothing.” Everyone turned to face Mereoleona. “What? I’m not enough of a prude to deny I speculated about some… things.”

“Things indeed…”

“I still think Nozel-kun is the prettiest of them all!”

And so, while Charlotte was too busy dealing with her desire to die a thousand times over having been overheard swooning over Yami’s best assets while quite possibly mildly inebriated, none of the three male test subjects - I mean, love interests - were any the wiser…

---

“Well, that was a weird fucking experience. I guess neither of us are single now.”

“... do you think that means she likes me?”

“Seriously, Vengeance, go see a shrink.”

“... everything I did was for nothing… my dignity is forfeit… I have ruined the name of the house of Silva…”

“Guess I should book us a group therapy session, then.”

“I mean, I know she kissed me back but maybe she just wanted to mess with me?”

“... I shouldn’t have put her in danger… now we’ll have to elope, leave the country and change our surnames to Schmitz.”

“Maybe she won’t want to see me ever again… I mean, she did say that she would rather not tell anyone about it yet. Maybe what she meant was that she didn't want to ever be associated with me-- it's not as though I can blame her for it...”

“...should I dye my hair - it will most likely stick out…”

“... what if we kiss again and this time the magic’s gone…?”

“... do they speak a different language in the Land of the Sun? You might have to teach me that, Sukehiro.”

“... how do you keep a woman interested in you, Yami?”

“Well, that’s it. I’m never taking the two of you out drinking with me again.” He should have remembered those two were lightweights.

#black clover #mereoleona vermillion #william vangeance #charlotte roselei #yami sukehiro #nozel silva #dorothy unsworth #nacht faust #langris vaude #kiss the girl #so it becomes rather chaotic at the end...#also Charlotte pulled an Astrid #and the end is just... two men's drunken ramblings randomly tacked on because I felt like it...#ignore the scheming going around the in the background and it's almost romantic though #maybe #or at least funny?

30 notes · View notes

nappo008 · 2 years

Text

A small gift for @tagedeszorns with how the beloved nuisance that is Lucius got to be discovered for the third legion.

Panting the boy stood over the dismembered body of his foe, he could barely hear the cheering over the sound of blood rushing in his ears but he smiled. The thrill of a close fight was unmatched and this one had been close, for a moment at least.

Suddenly the cheering was overturned by furious hollering. Lucius' head snapped up, trying to calm his breathing and clearing his vision. The followers of the champion he had just unceremoniously taken apart, were enraged by the death of their leader. Pushing past the masses they begun making their way towards Lucuis, the guards who were trying to stop them were cut down brutally as at least a dozen men jumped into the arena.

Lucius straightend himself, his muscles burned after the day of fighting and especially after this last one, but as if he'd let them have at him without a proper fight.

He went through his hair as they surrounded him, a mocking smile on his face.

"You're challenging me!? I guess you liked the performance so much you just need to experience it firsthand do you?" he raised his rapier, the tremor that went through his exhausted arm was not notecible to the angry masses, but one had noticed, one who had watched him since his first fight today. The man, hidden in the shadows, gripped the handle of his sword, but neither drew it, nor stepped out the shadows yet, rather letting the scene unfold.

The Arena was in disorder, half of the audience crying out in shock and outrage while the other half cheered on the new entertainment.

Lucius dodged two crude blows without much difficulty, trying to get to a more advantageous position. His speed was his greatest strength, but it was deminishing rapidly and as unskilled the croons were, they noticed him slowing down too, getting more aggressive with their attacks. Lucius saw the blow aimed at his head coming, trying to evade, he knew it wouldn't be enough. Angrily he raised his sword, finishing the slice that would end his last victim.

He couldn't see the blow that severed the arm with the oncoming club, having it fly past Lucuis and smashing into another man. The struggle had become a massacre, Lucius and the others barley able to keep up with the flash of royal purple and gold which moved through the remaining men of the dead champion.

Now the adrenaline was kicking in again and Lucius struggled as he felt someone grab him, trying to stab the person that held him. The air escaped his lungs in a huff as he was dropped an unexpected long distance to the ground. He hid his shock and confusion behind a scowl as he scrambled off the ground, bringing some distance between him and the giant. He stood up straight, trying to make himself as big as possible as he took in the massive Warrior before him.

"Who are you?" he demanded having his rapier raised again, very well aware that if the giant wanted to hurt him he could not do anything to stop it, but that didn't mean he would not make it as hard as possible for the other.

As the expression on the giants transformed into an amsued grin and a chuckle excaped him, Lucius took a moment to look at his opponent properly. Of course he knew what the giant was, even the plebs would recognize an Astartes, a son of the Phoenix who in turn was the son of the Emperor, beloved by all.

Lucius had never greatly cared for politics or the art of war at large, he wanted to fight and he wanted to be the best at it. But still, he had never seen one in the flesh, they were more imposing than he had imagined.

"Sergeant Saradar Tyrion and... put that stick down Lucius," Lucius' eyes were drawn back to the slim, surprisingly handsome face for an appearently seasoned Warrior, to which the decorations on his armour and the scar on his right cheek gave testament to. Eyes with a purple hue looked down at him and Lucius huffed. He felt insulted, for both the comment and that the Astartes had gotten him out of the prickly situation. Still, he lowered his rapier, his muscles thanking him for it and he couldn't help but feel honored that the other knew his name.

"I could have managed those few untrained goons. But your assistance is appreciated nonetheless," Lucuis took some time to inspect himself for any wounds, only a few bruises, but he could taste blood, a tear on the inside of his lip, but on the outside there was nothing. Perhaps a scar would remain, but only on the inside, it would not be visible to others and only he would know it was there. That fact calmed him and the fact that there was no other injury made his chest bloom with pride which was quickly diminished by the still amused Astartes who looked at him with an unsettling but, to Lucius, familiar look. A sharply evaluating one.

"Of course, you could have,"

Lucius wrinkled his nose at the expecting silence that followed, the Astartes was expecting him to make the next move, one that would most probably determine the rest of his life.

This was just another kind of fight, another duel, another dance. He shifted his weight, adjusting his ruffled clothes and stared into those somewhat abnormal eyes. The exhaustion of the day was past him now and Lucuis knew what he wanted.

What he had wanted since the first time he saw two people in a duel, what he had done since he was a little boy who beat his first opponent. He wanted to become better, fight better, all techniques the old sword masters could teach him on Chemos, he had mastered already. But just earlier, when he had been barley able to even see the strokes that the Astartes had made, he saw something near perfection and he wanted that, but better.

"So tell me then, where did you learn to fight like that?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows, smiling inwardly the other let out a chuckle in a mix of disbelief and amusement of the audacity and guts this boy had. Though he stilled a moment later, two armored fingers going to his ear as he seemed to listen to something, before he turned and started walking away. Thrown off, Lucuis made a step to follow him before he stopped. Had he failed in some way? No, impossible! So he called out,

"You didn't answer my question!" The Sergeant glanced over his shoulder,

"And you won't receive one if you keep standing there,"

Lucius jogged after him with a huff, were all the Astartes so infuriating? But he knew, as the sounds of the city and the arena became distant that he was destined for greater things, he would learn and train, he would become the best and one day surpass the Sergeant.

One day, all the Imperium, no, all of the galaxy and beyond would know his name.

#warhammer #warhammer 30k #Lucius #emperors children #third legion #loyalist astartes #space marines #fanfic #gift fic

46 notes · View notes

liahswriting · 2 years

Note

Hi liah. Long time reader first time messenger here. I just wanna ask you what your bloodhound look like to you? I see bloodhound as a female and I picture her with red hair just like you! What else can you tell us about your bloodhound? Also I hope your day is great! 🥰

Hello hello! My day is great so far. I hope yours is as as well <3

It seems that red hair is a common headcanon among fans. I think it just has to do with Bloodhound's uncle having red hair. Although, I just want to give a short biology lesson here, red hair is a recessive gene. Meaning BOTH parents have to pass it on to their child for the child to show red hair. We know that Bloodhound's father carries the red hair gene because Uncle Artur is Bloodhound's uncle on his father's side. We don't know anything about Bloodhound's mother, so it's not known if his mother carries the red hair gene.

I REALLY wish I was able to draw, because I just can't find any fanart of Bloodhound that matches what I see in my head. I was able to find this image through Google like forever ago and I edited it a bit in photoshop to more closely resemble my own Bloodhound. It's not perfect by any means, but it's sort of the idea.

Again, this isn't my drawing. I only edited it. All credit goes to the original artist. I don't know who drew it because I found it off of Google, so if anyone knows who the artist is, let me know and I'll make sure to properly credit them.

Basically, my Bloodhound -has red hair -has greyish/light eyes (not exactly blue) -has a few tattoos as seen in the image -and still has the face scars he got as a child from inhaling coolant (I was unable to add the scars into my edit because I couldn't find a way to make them look "natural")

My Bloodhound is also late 30's, like 38-ish. Which is how old he actually is in the Apex universe. I also like to think his name is either Einár Johannson, or Viðarr Johannson. Why?

1) because, historically, Scandinavian culture went by patronyms (naming your child after the father). Most Scandinavian countries no longer use this custom. Norway, for example, made it a LAW back in like the 1920s that every family must have an inheritable surname, so most families at the time either just used the last-given patronym as a surname, or created a surname based on where they lived or what their profession was. My family in Norway has been using the same last name for generations now because of this law. I think it's my great uncle that was the last person to have a patronymic name??? I'm not exactly sure. My family is not exactly close with them because we're so far removed from each other. Iceland still uses patronymic names, and Bloodhound is Icelandic, so I gave Bloodhound a patronym. Bloodhound's father is named Johann, so Bloodhound's patronymic name would be Something Johannsson, which means Son of Johann. Sweden and Iceland use the name ending -sson, whereas Norway and Denmark use the name ending -sen.

2) I chose the name Einár (pronounced aye-narr) because it's an Old Norse name, which I like Old Norse since Bloodhound was raised "by the old ways". It means "one who dies in battle" or "one who fights alone", which I thought was fitting for him because he essentially lives his life in solitude. I also chose the name Viðarr (pronounced Vee-tharr) because Viðarr is the son of Odin, and I thought having a God's name would connect Bloodhound more with The Old Ways. It means "wide warrior", although the name meaning wasn't really why I picked it.

And that's about it for my Bloodhound. Of course I have headcanons related to his personality, but that's just a whole shit load of things that would take too long to type out here. I try to incorporate those headcanons into my fics whenever I can (i.e. Bloodhound having a MASSIVE sweet tooth).

2 notes · View notes

iamnotoriginalphil · 2 years

Text

Never Again (Rumplestiltskin x Reader)

Synopsis: A near death experience leads to feelings being revealed.

Words: 959

Warnings: Almost death, discussions of dying

AN: So I was watching season 2 again and I couldn't shake this scenario from my mind when watching 2x16. So uh... yeah, I wrote it.

His words kept echoing through your mind. Sitting at Grannies, your hands wrapped around what was once a hot cup of cocoa, you couldn’t shake it. You’d begged him, but nothing had persuaded him. The click of the phone disconnecting still rang in your ears.

“Goodbye (Y/N).”

You knew that was going to be the last time you ever heard from him. The thought of never hearing his voice again made your eyes well with tears. He’d refused to tell you where he was holed up, had denied you the ability to be there with him. You wanted to be. And now the sorrow had frozen you in this booth, unable to get out and search for him.

You pressed the rim of the cup to your lips. Long fingers plucked it from your grip before the now cold liquid could slip into your mouth. You looked up, finding Ruby looking down at you.

“I can’t let you drink that,” she said.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Alright, something is clearly wrong,” she said, “you’ve been sitting here for hours staring into this mug like it’s going to tell you your future.”

You looked up at her, blinking back the tears threatening to fall.

“You know how Emma and Gold went to New York?” you asked. She nodded, “well, something happened.”

“What do you mean something happened?” she asked.

“Hook, he followed them and he, uh, he poisoned Gold,” you said, brushing away a tear from your cheek.

“Well they’ll find a cure for it, right?” she asked.

“He says he’s dying.” You bit back a sob, “he won’t tell me where he is. He just… hung up on me.”

“Oh I’m sure he-” she began to say until you cut her off.

“But I guess that’s just proof that he doesn’t feel the same way about me, right? I know everyone knows, I'm really bad at hiding it. I just thought, recently, maybe… Guess I was wrong.”

“I don’t know if-” she tried again.

“At least I never did anything to properly embarrass myself like confessing my feelings to him. Plausible deniability.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have-” she attempted one last time.

“Just as long as this isn’t some twisted way of sparing my feelings. Faking his death to get out of, I don’t know, being my friend even. That would just be such a douchebag move. But I have to assume it’s true since we haven’t seen Emma or Snow or David since they got back. That says something is actually happening, right?”

You turned your eyes on her, begging her to tell you this wasn’t some trick. The thought that he could fake his death like that, make you grieve, all to avoid dealing with your feelings for him when he didn’t reciprocate, that was too much for you to handle.

“Of course it does,” she said, “but honey, they’re right outside if you want to ask them.”

You turned in your seat. A small group of people, recognisable even in the dark of the night. But one notable figure was missing and they hardly looked like a happy bunch of people. Your heart sank.

You stood, stumbling out of the booth. The bell jingled as you exited Granny’s, Ruby calling after you. Your breath was tight in your chest as you stepped out into the street.

A thump and scuffed footsteps drew your attention away from the family. You froze.

Striding down the street, looking as if he’d never been healthier, Gold was staring you down. Your eyes roved over him. His jacket had been discarded and his shirt was unbuttoned enough to be able to see the column of his neck and his collarbone. It made you feel hot all over while you tried to figure out what was going on. He wasn’t dying. He was right there. He seemed fine.

He was… right in front of you.

He murmured your name as his cane clattered to the ground. He grasped your face in both hands, pulling you into him. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss. It took a moment for your brain to catch up with what was happening but when it did you flung your arms around him, holding him close.

He sighed into your mouth, fingers tangling in your hair. You pressed yourself against him, wondering how his kisses could be better than you’d ever imagined. Heat coursed through your body, your heart fluttering. He drew away, still close enough for his breath to fan over his face, entwined together.

“I thought you were dying,” you whispered.

“I was,” he replied, “I believed I was never going to see you again.”

“And you didn’t want that?” you asked.

“I never want to go another day without seeing you,” he murmured.

“I don’t…” You shook your head, “I thought you didn’t feel the same way about me.”

“Looks like you were wrong, dearie,” he said.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” you requested.

In reply he kissed you. It didn’t answer your question but it was a good enough distraction that all thought flew from your head. You’d happily spend the rest of your life kissing him. It was all you needed.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said when he’d distracted you enough, “it’s late. Allow me to take you home.”

“Will you tell me what happened when we get there?” you asked, stooping to pick up his cane. Your fingers brushed together when you handed it over. He smiled at you, soft and sweet, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“If that is what you desire,” he said.

You looped your arm through his, all thoughts of anyone else forgotten.

“It is,” you replied.

“Then that’s what we shall do.”

#rumplestiltskin #rumplestiltskin imagine #rumplestiltskin x reader #mr gold x reader #mr gold imagine #ouat imagine

411 notes · View notes

theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 3 years

Note

Lol I decided to be brave and not to hide using the anon mask. 🌝🤡

Have you ever thought about this NSFW/Explicit possessive Zhongli pounding reader in front of their stalkers? Like, there are these weird stalkers who always take a peek at reader whenever they got the chance. Zhongli finally had enough of it and decided to show them who owns this puss—🤐

"Pity. A mere human cannot touch what's mine. You see this seal on her abdomen? Yes, it means my seed is there to take place."

🥵💦 water pls

Thank you for waiting! ╰(￣ω￣ｏ)

Also you're tougher than all of the U.S. Marine for going non-anon lmao mad respect (≧∀≦)ゞ From the moment I saw your asked I knew it would awaken something in me and it did lmao it took me so long since I had to make sure I'd have enough horny vocab for this lmao and so let me water and quench your thirst now lmao.

Thanks for the first ever womb tattoo ask. Photo of the womb tattoo included.

CW: Public Sex, Mind Break, Dub-con

Marking You Gently

Summary: Zhongli appreciated how you were honest with him by revealing how your past lovers were run off by the amount of stalkers you had and he was pleased with how dependent you were on him to get rid of them, he just never thought he'd have to resort to drastic measure to stake his claim not that he was complaining.

Zhongli was keenly aware of your innate ability to attract stalkers. This much you had admitted to him when he had been on the receiving end of a particularly foolish one. Of course, this had not deterred him from courting you at all, if any, he had enjoyed the challenge of keeping you safe and staking his claim on you to your stalkers.

And you were so cooperative too, you had let him gift you accessories in his colors and wore it proudly on a day to day basis. That you spent most nights in his bed and company only made his win sweeter. Zhongli strived to ensure that you would be happy and content in a relationship with him and if that meant curbing his own stalkerish tendencies...well...it was a small price to pay.

It was this confidence that led him to not properly pay attention when one of your stalkers had gotten particularly...courageous.

“Zhongli~” you whined at him, worry and annoyance in your eyes, as you clung to his arm. Your soft breasts and erect nipples were a welcome sensation to his arm, “I can’t find some of my panties~”

Zhongli thought for a moment, trying to remember if he had forgotten to return some of your panties he had used to fap with, “Have you checked the laundry?”

“I did!” You were tearing up, voice about to cry “I-I think some of them got it again…” You clutched at his arm tightly shivering at the thought of your stalkers being able to easily invade Zhongli’s tightly warded home.

At your words, all thought of fingering your bare pussy fell out of Zhongli’s mind, he didn’t like seeing you scared and teary eyed. He kissed your forehead, removing his arm from the tender clutches of your soft breasts and enticing nipples to give you a tender hug of comfort.

“Why don’t you accompany me for a while? Until I catch those disgusting vermin?” Zhongli offered, soft smile on his face as he gently rubbed your back.

“Will Hu Tao be fine with that?” You asked, uneasy at inconveniencing the first boyfriend to ever care about you this much.

“Of course” Zhongli replied, kissing you sweetly on your lips.

It was easy then to use sex to calm your frightened self, Zhongli’s kiss grew heated and lascivious as his hands drew teasing circles on your ass and thighs, squeezing it in intervals before teasingly grazing on the folds of your pussy. He squeezes your ass cheeks, spreading it apart before he firmly places his hand below your ass to grab you up.

You cooperate with him, moving your legs to firmly hug his waist, your wet pussy rubbing against his erect cock. You moaned into his kisses, body shivering with delight as you clung to his body.

“Mn~” You moaned as your tongue entwined with his.

The wet sound of kissing seemed loud in Zhongli’s quiet apartment, the panting noises coming from the two of you could be heard clearly. As Zhongli placed you on top of his dining table, hands going under your shirt to fondle your soft breasts and play with your erect nipples.

“Haaa~” You panted as your body arched with pleasure, Zhongli’s long and thick cock was rubbing against your clit.

“Just leave everything to me” He said, as he laid reverent kisses on top of your stomach. Leaving a trail of hickeys that led to your throat. He had already ripped your shirt off your body, exposing your breasts that still carried last night’s marks and your erect nipples which still had his teeth marks surrounding it.

“Forget about all those unpleasant things, my love” He crooned as he kissed you on the pulse beside your neck. His free hand was teasing your wet pussy, fingering it until he knew that you would be able to take all of him all the way in.

“Zhong-” You moaned “-please! Put it in!” You begged brokenly as his masterful ministrations on your body left you a panting and moaning mess.

Zhongli hummed in satisfaction, “And what do we say?”

“Plea-please” You began shakily, “put your co-cock in my slutty pushy!”

You fumbled on the last word, moaning it out as Zhongli thrusted his thick cock inside you in one strong move, not bothering to wait until you finished speaking. He moved his hips back and forth, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot again and again until you could only moan and call out his cock with a loving voice.

You were oblivious to the predatory grin in Zhongli’s face or the way his eyes glinted dangerously as his mind thought of a solution to your ability to attract stalkers. He licked his lips, growing aware of the change in his teeth to fangs.

He bent over to suck on your nipples, his hands preoccupied with keeping your legs spread apart as he thrusted his cock against your wall.

You keened, your body arching and pussy clenching on his dick as you came, Zhongli moaned as he came with you, spilling his seed inside your clenching pussy and uterus, he spilled so much cum, as if he had not just creampied you last night until the early hours of the morning.

He collapsed on top of you as you lay limply on the table, panting and pussy twitching from the earth shattering orgasm you had.

“Have you heard of womb tattoos?” Zhongli asked as he lovingly and gently cradled your face, kissing you on your cheek.

You blushed, “No, I haven’t.”

He hummed, not bothering to unseathe himself from your warm and comfortable pussy, “It is typically used for lewd purposes,” Zhongli explained as he let his hand drop from your face, gently tracing a line from your neck, passing through your left tit, playfully rubbing your nipple, before he ultimately ends it on the area above your crotch “But it can also be used as a way to repel...shall we say your disgusting stalkers?”

You let out a soft “oh!”

“Would it be painful?” You asked, worried that tattooing it on that area would be too much for your pain tolerance.

“It wouldn’t” Zhongli assured you “I would never let you feel any pain.”

He smiled at you with so much affection that you easily agreed to his solution, you didn’t bother to give any input to what Zhongli was going to do, you had so much trust in him that you simply waited for the day he’d marked you and solved your most annoying and hated problem.

You hadn’t thought to ask what it would do, believing that Zhongli would make the tattoo a repellent against your stalkers. Which wasn’t wrong per se, it wasn’t until the tattoo was put into use did you register what it would actually do.

For Zhongli, it was normal blissful week of having you in his arms, regaling you with Liyue’s rich history and flirting with you as a gentleman would. It was his day off, and thus he had brought you to Wangshu Inn for a short staycation for the weekend. His strong presence at your side had deterred even your most courageous and stubborn stalkers, not that it had stopped them from trying to take a peek at you when you bathed or changed clothes.

A quick petrification to some of the most vile ones was an easy way to scare off the rest of them. By the time he was done turning some of them into stone, you were finished with your business and happily ensconced yourself into his arms. Purposefully not paying attention to the new additions on the inn’s decoration.

“Shall I take you to solve some geo puzzles?” He offered, his hand resting lowly on your hip, just above your crotch, firmly gripping you at the sides.

“Okay~!” You happily complied, leaning even closer to him much to his visible satisfaction.

While you were happily clinging into Zhongli, listening to his engaging explanation of how the mechanism worked and its purpose, you were unaware of the group of stalkers that were watching you from behind. They were lying on the ground, using the natural reflective surface of the water to take a peek at your crotch that was exposed due to the crotchless panties Zhongli had you wear underneath your clothes.

From their binoculars, they could see how wet you were, cum dribbling slowly out of your pussy that had them salivating and achingly hard. They were imagining that it was their cock being shoved to your exquisite pussy, that it was their cum that was dribbling down the folds of your thoroughly used cunt.

They were so immersed in their fantasy that they had not noticed Zhongli’s murderous glare as he sealed them together as if they were Azhdaha.

“It seems that none of you had learned the lesson” He spoke coldly, glaring with complete and uncharacteristic derision in his eyes as he watched them visibly turn pale.

You stood behind Zhongli, trembling with fear, you had never seen him quite this mad. It wasn’t until he had pulled you to the front, your dress shoved up to your waist and exposing your wet cunt and glowing tattoo did your heart start beating faster.

“Zho-zhongli?” You called out to your lover, trembling in his arms, as your legs shookt from the lecherous looks of your stalkers.

“Don’t worry my love, it’s about time for them to know who owns you” He whispered in your ear, making your pussy visibly throb and grow wetter.

You could feel your mind slowly turning hazy as your body heated up. The tattoo glowed brightly as Zhongli began fingering you. You were helpless and growing weaker, only capable of leaning on his chest, weakly grasping on the sleeves of his clothes as you began to moan.

Your legs automatically spread themselves, exposing the pink and cum-filled inside of your pussy, letting your stalkers know that Zhongli had thoroughly fucked and came inside your pussy earlier.

“Zhong-nnn!” You tried to call his attention, wanting to put a stop at his action but as his fingers curled inside your cunt, you let out a seductive moan that went straight to the cocks of every male in your vicinity.

“Good girl,” Zhongli praised as he watched your hand reach for the zipper of his pants, “Show them how much you want my cock.”

You nodded, eyes hazy, as you turned around and shakily knelt on the ground, your hands fumbled to get his cock out. You happily mouthed through the fabric of his pants as you tried to get his thick and long cock out of its constraints. Zhongli’s large hand was a comforting weight on your head, petting you as praises flowed out of his mouth.

“Such a good slut, not needing more instructions on her master’s part” He praised “Look at you happily fucking your mouth to my cock the moment you see it.”

You senselessly blowed his dick, tongue swirling on its tip and swallowing all of length until it hit the back of your throat again and again. You had long since forgotten about your stalkers or the fact that you were giving them a show.

Your mind was filled only with the thought of Zhongli’s cock and his cum. You whined when you felt him pull away, crying at the lost of the warm and comforting weight of his cock on your tongue.

“Shhhh” He appeased you, “turn around love, put your hands on the wall of the seal.”

You did as he said, body automatically positioning itself to a lewd pose, your tits were pressed on the wall of the seal, making your stalkers gulp and try to reach for it only to be electrified by the seal’s wall.

Zhongli smirked at their audaciousness.

“Cock~! I want your want cock~!” You cried out as you bent your body further, until your ass was pushed up to the air, shaking your hips to entice Zhongli. Your legs were spread apart to show him the pussy he loved and owned.

“Good girl” Zhongli purred as he took his cock and guided it to the folds of your pussy. He teased your cunt, sliding the head of his cock up and down the wet folds of your pussy making you whine and try to push your pussy towards his cock.

He slapped your ass, “Behave.”

You did as you were told, there was no autonomy in your mind anymore, the glowing symbol on your abdomen had thoroughly wiped out any sense in your brain. Zhongli had reduced you to walking, talking flesh light.

With a look of superiority, Zhongli thrusted his cock inside your waiting pussy, he maintained eye contact with your stalkers as he fucked you from behind. He mercilessly plunged his cock in your abused pussy, ramming it again and again against your cervix, the pain turning into pleasure. Each thrust of his had the tattoo glowing drawing attention to it as you moaned and drooled from the pleasure. You were no longer the proper and energetic lady that was known in Liyue.

Zhongli’s cock and womb tattoo had reduced you to this lewd slut that craved his cock and cum. Your mind was filled with sex and pleasure, begging him for more,

“Please! Give me your seed!” You cried “Breed me! Ahn~!”

Zhongli watched as some of your stalkers threw away their dignity and started fapping to your lewdness.

He pulled you away from the wall, hoisting you up and fucking you as your arms automatically wrapped itself backwards on his neck. He made out with you sloppily while his cock fucked your pussy, bulge visible on your stomach and slightly deforming the glowing tattoo.

You came from the immense pleasure but Zhongli didn’t bother stopping even as you lay limp and unconscious in his arms. He kept on fucking you, hands groping your wildly bouncing chest as your stalkers started pumping their cocks faster.

He turned to them and taunted, “Pity. A mere human cannot touch what's mine.” He placed a kissed to the side of your throat as his eyes grew darker and his voice dripped with possessiveness that belonged to a dragon, “You see this seal on her abdomen?”

He smiled darkly as he saw recognition on their eyes, it was only natural for them to know what it was considering that they all had the same thoughts towards you. The difference was that he had won and they were losers, pitiful humans who would never have you nor have you sire their spawn.

With great delight, Zhongli crushed all of their dreams as he confirmed the worst of their thoughts, “Yes, it means my seed is there to take place."

And then he spilled all of his cum inside your pussy, spilling it all the way through your uterus as the mark glowed brightly before slowly dimming and sinking back beneath your skin.

It was a clear sign that Zhongli had successfully impregnated you.

“Don’t ever step foot in Liyue again” He ordered, eyes glowing bright as he cursed them out of the land.

He left with you in tow, fixing your clothes and pushing back the cum that dripped on the inside of your thighs back to your pussy. Zhongli smiled at your sleeping form, content and pleased with the knowledge that none of your stalkers would ever bother you again.

“I wonder how you would act with other variations of this tattoo?”

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere zhongli x reader

2K notes · View notes

cassandraclare · 4 years

Text

The Whispering Room: James’ POV

Here it is finally — James’ POV of the Whispering Room scene from Chain of Gold. I wanted to wait until Chain of Iron was released to give more people a chance to read the book, and also because what we learn in COI does inform the scene. I hope you enjoy!

*art by Cassandra Jean

Cortana wove with her words, underlining each one with steel. She turned as her sword turned, and her body curved and moved like water or fire, like a river under an infinity of stars. It was beautiful—she was beautiful, but it was not a distant beauty. It was a beauty that lived and breathed and reached out with its hands to crush James’s chest and make him breathless. — Chain of Gold

James had felt a strange emotion when Daisy first took the stage at the Hell Ruelle. It was a mix of several feelings...

worry on her behalf, annoyance at Kellington, curiosity, and admiration for her bravery and poise. It was unfair of these Bohemians to force her to caper for them, and, he thought, a bit insulting to Shadowhunters in general. He supposed that Matthew had given them a rather unusual view of what the Nephilim were like in such circumstances.

And then she had begun to dance. And suddenly she was not Daisy, his old friend. She was Cordelia, whose name meant heart, whose every gesture was fire. Every earthly worry he’d had had been swept out of his mind. He was conscious only of Cordelia, whirling back and forth across the small stage. Cortana danced around her, shedding light like embers. The dull glow of the lamps illuminated her body, describing her every movement, her every curve as she danced. Her scarlet hair whipped around her in time to the music, and the golden light of the lamps in the Ruelle slipped across her skin, slow and hot, like beads of honey. The cadences of her voice, rising and falling, seemed to weave a cage of silken thread about her audience, and James was no exception.

Later, James would think it was odd that he had not compared her to Grace. Grace had never entered his mind at all. Cordelia danced, and by the end of her performance, James’s entire life had been disassembled and put back together in a new and different shape. He was conscious of Matthew, beside him, also staring as the crowd cheered, his sharp cheekbones flushed. He looked dazed; James couldn’t blame him.

Cordelia descended the stage and slipped through the crowd to come back to them, blushing at the looks and murmured comments she was drawing from the audience now. James could see the desire in the eyes that followed her. Everyone wanted her. He felt a dull fury. They had no right. They did not know Cordelia. She was more than just that dance.

When she reached them she let out a long breath of relief and smiled. She glowed with the exercise of dancing. Sweat beaded along her collarbones, shimmered between her breasts. Her eyes were bright as Cortana’s blade, strapped to her back.

“Bloody hell,” Matthew exclaimed. “What was that?”

A look of uncertainty crossed Cordelia’s face. James said, “It was a fairy tale, Math,” and Matthew nodded. His dark green eyes searched Cordelia’s face, as if looking for the key to a locked room he had only just discovered.

Cordelia looked uncertain. James couldn’t bear that. She’d been magnificent; she should know it. But he couldn’t say that, of course. It would only make her self-conscious.

“Well done, Cordelia,” James said instead; when he unfolded his arms; his wrist hurt and he wondered if he’d been clenching his hands.

Cordelia. He hadn’t called her Daisy, and she looked a little surprised. It seemed inappropriate, somehow. Daisy was Lucie’s friend, the Merry Thieves’ compatriot; he found it a smaller name than she deserved. Cordelia, though—she had been a queen, hadn’t she? Queen Cordelia, daughter of Leir, ruler of Britain before the Romans had ever landed on those shores. Like Boadicea, a legendary warrior queen. A blazing white fire behind fathomless black eyes.

“Anna has disappeared with Hypatia,” James said, noting the empty settee, “so I would call your distraction a success.”

Cordelia’s lips twitched into a smile. “How long does a seduction usually last?”

“Depends if you do it properly,” Matthew said, with a wink. James felt it as a spark of relief, a bit of lightness amid the feeling that something heavy was sitting on his chest.

“Well, I hope for Hypatia’s sake Anna does it properly,” James said. He registered, with the reflexes of a parabatai, that Matthew had gone still next to him, and wondered what was wrong. “Yet for our sake, I hope she hurries it up.”

All hint of Matthew’s jocular tone from before was gone. “Both of you,” he said urgently. “Listen.”

Did he mean all the muttering about Shadowhunters? Was he only noticing it now? It had followed them since they came into the place. But when James followed Matthew’s gaze, he found Kellington staring with an expression of vexation, not at them but at the door. All questions were answered as through the door came Charles Fairchild, looking around him with a haughty expression. He looked like was about to raid the place; so much for whatever work Matthew and Anna had done for Downworlder-Shadowhunter relations here.

Matthew narrowed his eyes. “Charles,” he sighed. “By the Angel, what is he doing here?”

Charles was, James thought, probably looking for them. He was making his way through the crowd and gazing around him. Luckily for them, the crowd was not interested in letting him through, and he was moving very slowly.

“We should go,” James said. “But we can’t leave Anna.”

In one way, at least, Charles’s arrival was helpful; it threw a bucket of cold water on the roiling heat that had gripped James’s heart since Cordelia had begun her dance. Back to the matter at hand: a demon, a Pyxis, a plan.

“You two run and hide yourselves,” Matthew said, still keeping his eyes on his brother. “Charles will go off his head if he sees you here.”

“But what about you?” said Cordelia.

Matthew shrugged, but James could see the tension in his jaw and his shoulders. “He’s used to this kind of thing from me. I’ll deal with Charles.”

Not for the first time, James wished that his parabatai wasn’t in such a hurry to sacrifice his own reputation. He exchanged a long look with Matthew, but Matthew was sure, and determined, and his desire to rush into his own humiliation was an issue that would have to wait. Nodding, he turned and caught Cordelia’s hand with his own. “This way,” he said, and she nodded back in acknowledgement. As he pulled them into the crowd he heard Matthew’s voice calling, “Charles!” in a hearty tone of pleasant, if entirely false, welcome.

James didn’t know his way around the place, and the crowd made orientating himself even more difficult, but after some trial and error he and Cordelia managed to get behind Kellington and slip into a corridor leading away. This wasn’t safe in itself, since from the main chamber one would have a clear view down the entire corridor. In fact, they were temporarily more exposed than before, and James’s hope for the hallway to take a quick turn or to contain large statuary to hide behind was quickly dashed. He continued to hold onto Cordelia’s hand, not that he needed to; she seemed to know her way better than he did.

Partway down the corridor, James caught sight of an open door — its silver plaque labeling it the entrance to THE WHISPERING ROOM. Swiftly he drew Cordelia inside, out of sight. He slammed the door behind them, causing a loud noise, but he thought it couldn’t possibly be heard over the crowd in the main chamber. Only then did he release Cordelia’s hand and take stock of their surroundings.

The room was dimly lit, but not cold: a scented fire burned in the grate, filling the space with the smell of sandalwood and roses. It was a study, he guessed, based on the gigantic walnut desk against the wall and the bookshelves opposite, but it was too richly decorated to be solely a place for studious contemplation. Phoenix feathers and dragon scales danced across the gilded wallpaper; there were no windows, but the walls were hung with patterned tapestries, the floor covered with a rug so thick James felt his boots sink into it as he moved further into the room.

Cordelia had leaned her back against the wall next to the door. Her eyes were closed and she was taking deep, full breaths, calming herself down. Cortana gleamed gold over her shoulder; the firelight gleamed a deeper gold on her skin, which seemed to take and hold its warmth. James curled his fingers in against his palm.

He wanted to touch her. He half-turned away, pretending to study the books on the wall. Any other time, he would have been fascinated by the titles. Now they seemed distant, neither immediate nor imporant. He could have sworn he heard his own heart hammering. He said, “Where did you learn to dance like that?” surprising himself with the roughness of his own voice.

His gaze snapped back to Cordelia as she opened her eyes and gave a little shrug. There was something magical about the dress she wore: it followed the shape of her own body rather than the shape of corsetry or whalebone petticoats. It slid softly against her skin as she moved, just as her dark red hair tickled the bare skin of her throat, her shoulders. “I had a dance instructor in Paris. My mother believed that learning to dance aided in learning grace in battle.”

The word grace pierced James like an icicle. He could not quite picture Grace at the moment, it was true; could not quite envision her face. He had given Grace his heart — that was an immutable fact, something he knew as he knew that two plus two equaled four. But he had to admit that at the moment his heart did not feel given. It felt like a thrumming machine inside his chest, pumping blood and heat.

“That dance,” Cordelia added with a quirk of her soft mouth that struck James like a blow to the stomach, “was forbidden to be taught to unmarried ladies. But my dance instructor did not care.”

“Well,” James said, keeping his voice steady with practiced control, “thank the Angel you were there. Matthew and I could certainly not have pulled off that dance on our own.”

Cordelia turned away from him, the smile still on her face, as though she were keeping it secret from him. She trailed her hand along the top of Hypatia’s desk. At one end was a stack of papers held down by a large copper bowl of fruit, and she brought her hand up to trace its rim.

James may have been distracted beyond the capacity for distraction he’d known before, but he was still a Shadowhunter. “Be careful,” he said warningly. “I suspect that is faerie fruit. It has no effect on warlocks—no magical effect, at least. But on humans…”

Cordelia pulled her hand back as though stung. “Surely it does not harm you if you do not eat it.”

“Oh, it does not. But I have met those who have tasted it. The say the more you have of it, the more you want, and the more you ache when you can…have no more.”

Cordelia was looking at him now, and though it took a great summoning of courage, he returned her gaze. In her dark eyes the silver and blue flames of the fireplace danced. James could not catch his breath. He had never felt this before, this breathlessness. It was like pain, but with a sweet, sharp edge. Like licking honey from a knife. He said, in a low voice, “And yet. I have always thought…is not knowing what it tastes like just another form of torture? The torture of wondering?”

The door shook on his hinges suddenly, making a clatter that made both he and Cordelia jerk their heads around to look at it. The knob was starting to turn.

Cordelia paled. “We’re not meant to be in here —“

James’s world closed down to just this: Cordelia was here, she was with him, and she looked frightened. He would do anything to stop that look on her face. He caught her in his arms, and the relief was incredible — he had not realized how much he wanted to be touching her until he was. Until he was holding her, and her strength and warmth and softness were all pressed against him, and her face was so beautiful it hurt, and her lips were parted in surprise and without another thought he kissed them.

He could feel her sharp intake of breath with his hands, clasped together at her lower back. She gasped, but did not draw back, or away — he thought he would have died if she had — she leaned into him, her full lips opening under his. She was kissing him back. He tasted honey, smelled jasmine and smoke. His hand slid up her warm cheek and into the soft fall of her hair.

Time stopped.

Cordelia’s arms were around his neck. Her lush mouth opened a little against his, and the kiss deepened. He moved his hand to the back of her neck to bring her closer. Her teeth grazed his lower lip, and he couldn’t help it; he moaned, and felt her tremble against him.

Very far away, a voice chuckled and the door closed with a soft click. This whole thing had been intended as a ruse, he knew, for the benefit of whomever was trying to get into the Whispering Room. Probably some Ruelle attendees, Downworlders most likely, who had snuck off for a rendez-vous.

Ruse accomplished, then. With intense regret, James drew back from Cordelia. Her hand, warm and soft and wonderful, was against his neck; her fingers stroked his pale white scar. Her eyes were fixed at the level of his shoulder. He could hear himself say her name — Daisy, my Daisy — instead of responding, she whispered, “I think more people are coming.”

He knew it wasn’t true. He didn’t care. He knew what she was saying: that she was asking and giving permission at once. All James’ life, he had struggled for control: control over his sudden falls into shadow, control over the dark world he could see, that was invisible to everyone else. He had worked and fought and trained for control every day, and for the first time in as long as he could remember it deserted him.

The walls he had put up burned to the ground in an instant as he caught Cordelia to him. He groaned against her mouth, his hands slipping over the silk of her dress, the hot satin of her skin. He undid the strap that held Cortana, got rid of it somehow — carefully, he hoped — and let himself fall back into delirium.

He did not ask himself why he had never felt desire like this before. He could not. He was lost in the feel of her, the incline of her waist, the flare of her hips, the rise and fall of her chest as she gasped. They were kissing wildly, uncontrolled; they fetched up against the desk, Cordelia’s back to it.

Her body bent backward in an impossible arch, her hands going behind her to brace herself. Her eyes half-closed, her head fell back, revealing the bare column of her throat. He pressed his lips there, eliciting a gasp of surprised pleasure.

His hands trailed up the sleek material of her dress — he could feel the heat of her skin through it — from her waist to the neckline of her gown. His palms followed her curves until the tips of his fingers were pressing into the bare bronze skin just above the neckline of her dress. She was sleek and soft and hot all at the same time, like nothing else he’d ever touched. He heard her whimper; she was saying his name, and his heart beat in time with her words: James, James, Jamie please.

The please undid him; shrugging off his frock coat, he caught hold of her around the waist, lifting her until she was perched on the edge of the desk. The material of her dress bunched around her knees, her thighs, as she took hold of his shirt by the starched front and kissed him. His mouth drove against hers, hot and demanding, even as he clambered onto the desk after her. She reached up her arms for him and he sank down on top of her, bracing his weight with a hand above her head.

He paused, just for a moment, looking down at her. Her scarlet hair fanned out across the desk, her eyes glazed, her full lips red from kissing. He was cradled by her body, her legs on either side of his hips, her skirt rucked up nearly to her waist. She wrapped her long, bare legs around him and he shuddered. What was in him, what he wanted, was inchoate but insistant, a force he’d never known. A yearning like hot wires in his blood, the pain-pleasurable ache of unbearable wanting that drove him to kiss her again, kiss her harder. She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling at it as he kissed her breasts, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin until she gave a low scream and clutched at him with desperate hands.

He sank down against her and kissed her, hot and deep and hard. She arched into the kiss, her breath coming in gasps. He felt her through the thinner material of his shirt: the heat of her, the swell of her breasts against his chest, her hands smoothing over his chest, his sides.

His hands aching to touch her in kind, to find out what she liked, what made her gasp, and do it again and again . . . Nothing had ever felt like this, nothing. He’d known desire before; so he remembered, so he had believed. It turned out he had stepped into a puddle and thought it was the sea. As Cordelia moved in his arms, as her lips, he realized there was a depth to desire he hadn’t even guessed at: that it was more than just desperation, but joy and need and wanting and being wanted back. It was a fever dream, his hands sliding up under the heavy satin of her skirts, the salt-sweet taste of her skin, the soft sounds of her pleasure as she urged him closer, urged him onward, the desk seeming to spin beneath them.

He heard, as if at a great distance, the sound of the door opening. He lifted his head, saw the slim fair-hared figure in the doorway. Ice washed through his veins. Cordelia stiffened, began to scramble to sit up. No, he thought, but he couldn’t stop her, couldn’t blame her. It — whatever it had been — was over.

He slid off the desk. Already the fever was vanishing, that feeling —the glorious freedom from the burden of his own will — receding. Grasping at his control, he drew it around himself, reaching for his coat, turning to calmly meet the gaze of his parabatai.

“James?” Matthew said.

#the whispering room #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #the last hours #cassandra clare #cassandra jean #chain of gold

4K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

new parts posted on thursdays! join the taglist here

“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch. ��Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can. I know you can. Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me. Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly. “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred. “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you? Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded. “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed. "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer. You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients. Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ. There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago. Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality. But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain. And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place. It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often. It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again. He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him. “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall. “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided. You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch. After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something. “Yeah, I guess you haven’t. First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled. “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on. You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine. But there were more pressing matters at hand. Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment. This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in. I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that. The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages. You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted. Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James? Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards. But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically. For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh! Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly. “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically. “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again. “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school? Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past. “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once. You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on. “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh? So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you. “But you’re really not. You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you. “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right? Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably. “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself. And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah? How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number. “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced. “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about. Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad. Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet. “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly. “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right? Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before. “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead. “Do you want me to hit you again? Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive. His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls. “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you. He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder. And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock. “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout. “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised. “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin. “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft. It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you. “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him. “Can I keep going? Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned. You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive. And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back. But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little. "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly. "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently. "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more. You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James? So you could show me how good you can be?”

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day. Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked. “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now? You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed. “You don’t deserve anything from me, James. You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean. Kept him on his toes, apparently. Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right. “I know!” he cried. “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you. I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much. Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me. Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you. I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it. Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all. But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you? It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you. And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother. “All mine, huh? My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip. Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up. You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you? You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut. “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind. It’s useless. I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut. “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit. But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed. “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them. His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger. Was that even possible? Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked. “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself. It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well. Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided. “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes. “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is. You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly. “N-no, please—”

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you. Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act. Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous. You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest. So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now. “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you. You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that. I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you. And for a second, you knew you’d let him. It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal. It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly. “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned. “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right? That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me. Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to. “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come. I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets. And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it. So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel. You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out.

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected. “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se. When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated. But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that. “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched? Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed. Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed. Prideful, even. You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin. He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know. It’s so unfair, isn’t it? Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away. “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed. “Please, don’t— don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly. "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly. "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach. You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy. "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you. "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince. “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock. “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time. Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly. “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised. “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away?

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him. It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive. A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact. Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up. Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg. You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear. Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully. Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close. You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit. You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw. “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair. “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that. He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin. The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra. Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately. “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut. Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well). He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent. “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe. Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled. “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away. “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him. "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet.

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

#sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut

2K notes · View notes