#I spent one hour rendering his ass

[ikuslvt]

“You want to touch me?” 🌙

#bayonetta #kaeya #genshin impact #I spent one hour rendering his ass #then another ten on everything else #procreate #fanart #genshin fanart #kaeya fanart

[merchelsea]

just maybe - lewis hamilton

pairing: ex!lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: lewis misses what you used to be, and what a better way to show it than showing up, drunk, at your house?

author’s note: felt like writing lewis today because not enough people do!

word count: 1,1k

you lay on your couch, your phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram feed for what felt like the thousandth time that day. you knew there wouldn't be anything new, but you couldn't help yourself. you had been in the same position all day, unable to shake off the melancholy that had settled over you.

it had all started because you wanted to watch a romantic movie, a harmless way to pass the time. but as the movie played on, you found yourself crying, wishing desperately for a happy ending like the one onscreen. you and lewis used to have those moments, those beautiful moments that now only existed in your memories.

every scene in the movie triggered a bittersweet memory. they weren't sad memories, per se, but the fact that they were over made them so. you decided it was time to stop torturing yourself, to stop watching movies that made you cry over your ex, and to simply wait for something to happen. but, of course, nothing did.

that is, until you heard a series of knocks on your door. you rushed to answer it, expecting it to be a friend or maybe your sister. but when you laid eyes on the familiar brown ones you had been crying over just hours ago, shock coursed through you.

"heeeeey," lewis slurred, clearly intoxicated. fate seemed to be playing a cruel prank on you.

you stared at him for a few moments before finally finding your voice. "what the heck are you doing here?" you asked, blocking his path from entering your home.

lewis smirked knowingly. "oh, didn't seb warn you?" he said, referring to his friend vettel, who must have sent you a message the moment he knew lewis was drunk and thinking about you.

because that's what happened when he got drunk. he'd think back to your relationship and regret every detail that had gone wrong. vettel always thought lewis would try to contact you, but he never had the courage to do it—until today.

lewis had qualified third in a race after a series of unfortunate events, finally giving him a shot at victory. but, unpredictably, he had to retire from the race on the first lap.

"I missed you." lewis confessed, leaning against your doorframe as if aware of how powerful those words were.

"you don't know what you're saying, lewis," you sighed. you had spent the last seven months dreaming of hearing those words from him, but this was not how you imagined it.

"oh, I know exactly what I'm saying. believe me," he insisted.

"you're drunk!" you retorted.

"and? that doesn't change the fact that I think about you all the time. about us. about what we used to be," he said, refusing to give up.

you stood there silently, thinking he would back off if you didn't give him a hint of what you were feeling. but of course he had other plans. you sighed and stepped back from the door, allowing lewis to enter. he leaned against the closed door, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from his.

"I miss you when I'm at the simulator, and you're not there to beat my ass. I miss you when I go to lunch and forget to eat because I'm distracted by your smile. I miss you when toto speaks german, and we don't make jokes about it. I miss you when I'm walking, and our legs aren't in sync. I miss you when I wear my hats, and you're not there to steal them. I miss you when I see a cat on the streets, and you don't try to convince me to adopt it. I miss you when Max wins, and you're not there to congratulate him."

you were rendered speechless. every word he uttered, as he gazed deeply into your eyes, pierced your heart. you couldn't look away, but you feared that if you continued to stare, you wouldn't be able to let him go.

"I know I seem drunk, but this is the most truthful thing I've said in, like, forever. it's been almost eight months, and I still miss you in everything I do," he finally stood up and, somehow, managed to get closer to you. "tell me you don't miss me, and I'll never bother you again."

you took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. it was clear he had been drinking, but not enough to make him drunk. his little play could fool everyone, but it would never fool you.

you knew you missed him with every fiber of your being, but you weren't sure if it was the right thing to say. maybe, just maybe, he needed to move on, to find someone else who fit into his life.

but then, a voice inside your head reminded you that if he hadn't moved on after seven months without any contact, he probably wouldn't after eight. you couldn't lie to him when he had been missing you relentlessly for seven months.

"I miss you when I'm doing laundry, and I don't find your shirt in the wrong basket. I miss you when I'm taking a shower and don't hear the pre-qualifying comments. I miss you when I see a Mercedes on the road. I miss you when I play uno with my friends, and you don't win. I miss you when you're racing, and I'm at home, but not because I have things to do. I miss you when I'm not missing you because of racing."

you also took a step closer to him. "then let me make you miss me the right way again, please."

as you stood there, locked in a moment of intense longing and emotion, you realized that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment you had been waiting for. lewis had come back, admitting his feelings, and you couldn't deny your own.

with tears welling up in your eyes, you took another step closer to him. in that moment, you both understood that some things were too strong to be denied or forgotten, no matter how much time had passed.

you whispered softly, "lewis, I'll miss you no matter what, so please make me miss you the right way."

lewis' eyes lit up with hope and joy, and he gently pulled you into his arms. as you embraced, you both knew that this was a chance to have a fresh start, to rebuild what you once had. it wouldn't be easy, and there were still obstacles to overcome, but you were both willing to try.

in that moment, as you held each other tightly, you realized that sometimes, fate had a way of bringing people back together, even when it seemed impossible. and maybe, just maybe, this was the happy ending you had been longing for all along.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 masterlist #formula one story #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton au #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton fashion week #fem reader f1 #f1 reader #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one lewis hamilton

[skyebounded]

Empty Words.

© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.

Masterlist   .Harry Potter Universe Masterlist.

premise: There are some things you just can’t fix, and there are some words that mean absolutely nothing anymore. 

pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

warnings: unedited work, swearing, angst, cheating? kinda? toxic relationship.

wc: 1.5K

a/n: SORRY IF THIS IS SHITTY. anyway, I just wrote this in like an hour (hence the unedited-ness) but I hope you enjoy none the less. *casually shrugs* 

SIDENOTE: THIS MAN IS SO DAMN FINE IT HURTS ME PHYSICALLY. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking! Really Theo, that's the best you could come up with? You're sorry!?”

The look of disappointment growing on your face as you ran your fingers through your hair, taking a deep breath, as you tried to calm your nerves. You couldn’t see a way out of this one, not this time, and thought it hurt you, tugged at you to finally admit it, you had too. 

The look on his face, that small semblance of guilt and regret written over his features was almost enough to make you forget it, to just sweep it under the rug like he hadn’t screwed up, like he hadn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t. 

He reached out for you, letting his hand fall short as he saw the way you shirked away from him, clearly not wanting him to touch you in the slightest. The truth was, you were afraid that if you let him, that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it. 

“I fucked up, I know, baby please..” he pleaded, the smallest traces of nervousness laced in his tone. He looked almost as if he was shaking, truly afraid. He was just about ready to throw himself to his knees and beg you, but he kept his pride, bolstered up and secure. 

“Fucked up? That's an understatement Theodore!” You had never used his full name before, knowing how much he hated to be called it. You could see the way it stunned him, rendering him speechless for the shortest period of time before his jaw tensed and his body went stiff. You could see his jaw quivering ever so slightly, like he was holding back either tears, or the urge to yell, which one? you didn’t know.  

 “Theo, your hand was down her skirt! Your tongue down her fucking throat! Thats what you call a fuck up?” You wanted to rage, hit him, express how hurt you really were. You felt like your heart had been crushed in his hands, turned to dust with a simple touch, and then the remnants of it were blown into your face, all at your lover's hand. 

Despite everything you had heard about him, you had taken the chance, the risk, simply because you thought you were different, that he was different when he was with you, but he had proven to be exactly what everyone said. A cheater, a liar, nothing good, that's what he was. Nothing good. You felt so unbelievably stupid, falling for him. You could never seem to fully wrap your mind around why he chose you, and maybe this was why, because he could make a fool out of you, and by the time you realised it, it would all be too late. He had won you over with his charm, beautiful blue eyes, and handsome face, ignoring the warnings that you received, and it had all come back to bite you in the ass. You could feel the tears building in your eyes, prickling at the corners, but you were determined to keep them at bay. You wouldn’t let him see you cry, it would only prove your point. You glanced up to the stone ceiling, taking in a deep breath, fighting the way your bottom lip quivered. 

He had stepped closer now, and you swore you could hear his heart beating out of his chest, he was scared, so scared to lose you, and yet he was the one who messed up. He was the one that had ruined everything you guys had built together. All those countless nights together, wrapped up-tangled in the sheets, all the times you had spent telling him your secrets that you swore you’d tell no one, and all the ones that he had told you, finally being able to let down his guard, all of it, wasted over a single moment. He couldn’t be angrier with himself, but he didn’t know how to tell you that, to make you see that he was so unbelievably sorry for all the pain he had caused you. Part of him felt like there was no real reason to tell you he was sorry, he felt as if it would only be salt in the wound, and he was right, that's all it felt like to you. 

You couldn’t see how he could be so sorry, but yet he had still done it, you couldn’t fathom how that could outway the bad that he had done. 

“Y/n… please…I know-I…I” he didn’t know anymore what to say to make it okay, to fix it. He knew that deep down there was nothing he could do, not anymore. Nothing he said or did would fix his mistake, and now he would have to live with the consequences. Throwing himself at your feet, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, clinging to you afraid that when he let go, you’d be gone. He didn’t know what to do. “Y/n I love you…and I am so so sorry.” he tried. 

“No you don't! You don't love me, Theo, If you loved me you would have never! Could never! Thats not fucking love, that is nowhere near close!” 

Tears had breached his own eyes, staining the fabric of your skirt as he buried his head into you. A single tear broke from your eye, trailing down your heated cheek, cascading over your chapped lips. You could taste the salt, that conformation. You were frozen, unable to remove him from you. You didn’t want him to let go. Your breath had become uneven, chest heaving as your heart raced, ached. He loved you? That's what he had said, and yet.. Holding your breath you pushed him away, desperate to break free from him, but he wouldn’t break from you, his grip only tightened. 

“Theo, no..” you cried, “no you-you-Theo stop….please.” you squirmed in his grasp, panting as the tears broke from your eyes, trickling down your face. You clenched them still, hoping that it would stop them, but it only encourages them. 

“I can’t…I can’t let you go, y/n…I won’t…please..” he begged. 

He had finally left his pride at the door, here on his knees, begging you to forgive him, to overlook what he had done. The further he buried himself into your embrace, the harder it got to pull him away, to step away from him. 

“Theo, let go!” there was something so firm, demanding about your voice, it was so final. For a brief moment his grip loosened, just enough for you to break from him, pushing yourself up against the door, palms flat against the wood, and the other clutching your abdomen. You took a deep breath, the tears still flowing freely from you, as you fought to catch the escaping air. Your cheeks were rosy, heated with embarrassment, pain even, your eyes still clenched shut. You were afraid to look at him, to see how he was affected by the whole thing.

He hadn’t moved, hadn’t stood up, he was paralysed to the spot. His eyes fixed on you, as his eyes became glossy. He was numb. He hadn’t realised it until just now, you were lost to him, gone mentally and physically from him. You weren’t his and he wasn’t yours. No, he was yours, he’d always be yours, he thought, he would never stop…being yours. 

The silence had become defining, holding you captive as you stayed glued to the door to his room. You couldn’t move, couldn’t bring yourself to pull the door open and leave. Leaving meant it was completely over, all of it. And the truth of the matter was, it was over the moment you had seen it, the moment you had opened this forsaken door that you were now using as your sole support system. All of it had come crumbling down right before your eyes in a manner of seconds. A year's worth of ‘love’ ripped from you in a fleeting instant. Now, now it was time to accept it, to let it go, let him go. He didn’t even deserve that much, he deserved none of this, none of your patience, your willingness to listen to him tell you his poor excuse, not even the tears that you shed in his company. None of it. You had to do it. 

You opened your eyes, the tears ceasing for what felt like a brave moment as you stared down at him. Your face is fixing into that numb state of emptiness. No emotion, no feeling whatsoever. Your jaw clenched, breathing steady, despite your heart clamouring out of your chest at the sight of him. 

“And here I thought….you started, brushing your tongue along the inside of your cheek as you contemplated whether or not you wanted to hurt him just as much as he had done to you. “You know, you’re not even worth my words, Theodore. And to think I thought you cared…fuck you..We’re done.” You kept your voice as level as you could, doing your best to stay strong, as you reached for the doorknob, wrenching it open, stopping the moment you heard him stand up. Your body stilled, waiting, listening, but he did nothing…said nothing, not until you had forced yourself to step out of the room, flinging the door shut behind you.

“I’m sorry..” he mumbled, but you were already gone.

#Theodore Nott #theo nott angst #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott angst #angst #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #draco malfoy #theodore nott imagine #slytherin fanfiction #blaise zabini

[ushiwhacka]

LET HIM EAT CAKE | gojo satoru + fem! reader | 982 words | mdni | happy birthday to the only man that matters <3

.⋆｡⋆☾ summary: satoru loves cake. and he also loves you. so why wouldn't he want both at the same time? .⋆｡⋆☾ warnings: food play, slight dacryphilia, overstimulation, pussy eating, spit, gojo keeps your panties

You watch him as he inspects the little cakes and desserts spread out across the length of the dining table. Macaroons, sticks of dango, chocolate truffles, his favourite kikufuku, you had spent hours and hours gathering all of his favourites to indulge him for his birthday. And at the centre of it all, a cute little strawberry cake. Not as perfect as the rest of the selection, but made with so much love and care. Made by you. Made for him and him only. Two airy layers, a fluffy decadent filling, and six juicy strawberries as decoration.

Tongue peeking between pink lips, a feigned serious expression as he thoughtfully considers his options. But he can’t hide the happiness that pours out of his face, eyes crystal and wide and crinkled at the edges. There’s not much you can give a man that already has everything, but this feels like nothing he’s been given before. It feels like love. 

“I want this one first.” A knowing smile as he pulls the cake towards him. “But,” Gojo takes a step closer to you, pressing his body flush against yours, “I want to eat it off of you.”

“Satoru-”

“It’s my birthday, you should be nice to me on my birthday.”

His hands move up your exposed thighs and underneath the short little silk slip-on, thumbs running along the hem of the pretty lace thong that you wore just for him, digging into the fat of your ass and lifting you onto the table. Any resistance dissipating with the feel of his lips on yours. 

A swipe of his fingers across the cake to gather some of the filling before he presses them to your mouth, prying it open. Pushing down against your tongue, going deeper and deeper, until you’re drooling. Hand covered in your spit as he wraps it around your jaw. Then he kisses you, messy and just a little bit aggressive. “Mmmhm strawberry cake is just the best.” It comes out rough and thick with desire. And you’re already a mess yourself. Chest heaving, eyes glassy and lidded. Looking like something out of a dream with reddened, swollen lips and the straps of your dress falling around your shoulders. Satoru already knows that this is his favourite present. Ever. 

He picks out one of the strawberries. The biggest, most succulent one, of course. Shoves the tip between your teeth. An awkward bite that’s just too big, and pink, syrupy juice escapes down the sides of your mouth. But not to worry, because he’s there to help. Tongue flat against your skin as he licks you clean. Two of his favourite things - sweets and his pretty girlfriend and he’s enjoying every moment of it.  

Gojo trails the strawberry down your chin and the column of your neck, across your clavicle, marking his path. And where the sweet fruit goes his lips follow, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin. Humming in appreciation. Every little gasp and moan that leaves your mouth travels straight down to his cock, already straining against his slacks. He stops to pull the dress over your head and audibly moans at the sight of your bare breasts. 

Your spine tingles as he swirls the cold strawberry around your nipple. And he’s so mean as he sucks it into his mouth, cheeks hollowing with the effort. Pretty fingers trace their way down your tummy, touch so soft it almost tickles, and settle over your clothed pussy. “Did you wear these cute panties for me?” 

“Y-yeah.” The sound of your voice unrecognisable and raspy, heady with need. There’s something about the way his tongue curls over your skin, savouring every little taste of your flesh, the hunger that clouds his eyes. All of it wraps around your core, clutching around it, rendering your body limb and pliant. 

Satoru is careful as he slides the delicate cloth down your legs, his gaze overwhelming as he holds yours. “Think I’ll keep these.” A devious little smile on his face as he pockets your expensive underwear. But it’s not like you have the capacity to even care in the moment. And he’ll be sure to buy you another pair. Just as cute. Just as expensive.

Then the strawberry is back in his grasp, dripping with juice as he trails it down to your cunt, the tip slipping between your slit. A pathetic hiss as he slowly runs the fruit over your pussy lips, and then sucks them into his mouth, one after the other, releasing with an audible pop. A moment of respite and then he buries his face in your pussy, pink muscle dragging through your folds. And the way his nose nudges against your clit so deliciously has your hips bucking into his face. There’s not a single part of your body under your control. Not your hands that tug at his roots. Not the lewd moans that etch themselves onto his brain. Not your twitching pussy that’s gushing with slick. 

Half of his face is glistening with your essence. Just how he likes it. Leaking down the sharp slope of his chin as his tongue fucks into your needy hole. “Fuck, f-fuck, baby, it feels that good, yeah?” And there’s nowhere he’d rather be than here, suffocated between your thighs, drowning in the smell of you. Watching you fall apart as you writhe and sob, incoherent little whimpers as he sucks on your clit until you cum. And he keeps sucking on it until you’re begging for him to stop, the palms of your hands pushing at his forehead. 

“Aww already so sensitive?” A mocking coo. “But baby we’re just getting started.”

It’s his birthday. And you’re his favourite toy. And he plans on playing with you for as long as he wants. Until his body gives out and there’s not a single thought left between the pair of you. 

thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #it's still the 7th here!!! #tw: food

[writingjourney]

don't make me wait | copia x reader

summary: you make copia wait, he’s not happy about that. or alternatively: "DOM COPIA BREEDING AGAINST A DOOR" (powered by @sweatandwoe)

content: 1.5k words, afab!reader, dom!copia, smut, 18+ only, MDNI or I block you, breeding kink, rough sex, p in v, some mild degradation, they're established

Masterlist – Ao3 link

You would keep Copia waiting. You knew you would. And yet you agreed to help a desperate Sibling study for their Latin test to avoid the wrath of Papa Secondo. You could not help it, not when they asked you with tears in their eyes, lips quivering, already shaking. And that is why you spent the past two hours in the library explaining grammar rules to a novice.

Only when the bells start chiming six do you realize that you’re not just ten minutes late to your… little meeting… but a whole hour.

There is no time to feel guilty about it. You run down the corridors in nervous anticipation, only slowing down when you reach the eerily quiet wing that houses the offices of the high-ranking clergy members. You enter Copia’s office without knocking, only to find him already waiting by the entrance. Startled, you don’t fight him when he immediately pulls you further inside and slams the door shut again. The harsh sound echoes in your head like an explosive and you squeal in surprise, almost stumbling over your own feet.

“I was coming to look for you,” Copia states and then he’s suddenly pushing you against the hard wooden door, flipping you around until his front is pressed against your back, caging you in. You have to turn your head so your nose won’t get crushed and impair your breathing. Cheek squished and one eye squeezed close, you try to catch a glimpse of him. But Copia is busy. The lock clicks, the familiar sound much closer to your ear than usual as he traps you inside of his stuffy office. You shudder in excitement. His breath is hot against your burning skin when he brings his mouth to your ear, lips grazing the shell.

“I want you,” he growls. “I’ve wanted you all f-fucking day. And you make me wait?”

You whimper as his teeth meet the skin of your neck, slowly wandering down the slope of your shoulder where he stops, taking a deep breath.

“Do you not want me?” he asks, biting you through the fabric of your habit. “Tell me, amore, have you grown tired of your Papa? Is that why you come late?”

You whimper pathetically, arching into him. He’s already hard against your ass, pushing in even more as his teeth dig into your flesh until it’s bordering painful. The thought of his strong jaw makes you suck in a sharp, lust-filled breath.

“Words,” he snarls. “Tell me, amore. Tell me you want me.”

“I want you. I want you so bad.”

He groans, dragging his hot mouth over your neck again, restless and hungry and searching. He bites the soft skin just below your ear, even harder than before, pulling at your skin before he releases. “Say it again, tesoro. Say it. Make me believe you.”

“I want you,” you whisper. “Please, I want you so much, Copia.”

He grunts, pulling back only to slam you against the door again. “It’s Papa.”

You cry out, fingers sprawled over the smooth wood for more support. “I want you so much, Papa. I want– I n-need you.”

“Again,” he growls. “Say it.”

“I want you, Papa, I want you. I need you.”

His hand finds yours and he weaves your fingers together, sliding your joint hands over your head only to grab your other hand as well, rendering you immobile as he traps them beneath his strong palm. The angle is uncomfortable, your breasts hurt from the way they are squeezed against the solid door and you know you’ll find purple bruises all over your body tomorrow.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Copia says. “And I want you to repeat your words with every thrust, amore, you understand? You beg for me like a good little whore. You beg because you made your Papa wait.”

“Y-yes.”

He groans in annoyance. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Papa. I’m sorry, Papa.”

You hear him work his pants open with his free hand, knuckles rubbing against your ass every few seconds without providing any sort of relief. It takes a while until you finally hear the buckle of his belt and then he’s hiking up your skirts so roughly that his nails bite into your soft ass cheek. You cry out when his hand finally meets your soaked panties, pushing them to the side only to slide two fingers into your dripping hole without warning. You keen, clench around him, unable to hide just how needy you are by now. 

“Oh, you like that, sì? You’re so starved for your Papa.” 

“Hmmm.”

“What did I tell you?” His voice has an unfamiliar edge to it, rougher, deeper, a timbre that has your whole pussy throbbing. “Speak.”

“Please, Papa, I n-need you. Need you inside of me, please.”

“Say that you want my cock, amore. Say it.”

You swallow, throat dry and scratchy from creating all these desperate sounds. “I want your cock, Papa. Please.”

He removes his fingers, giving you no time before his cock slides in, all the way until his whole length is buried deep inside of you. Two seconds to adjust, then he pulls out and slams back in, hard and relentless. You cry out, nails digging into the unyielding wood of the door until they hurt.

“So tight, fuck.” His free hand finds your hip, kneading the doughy flesh as he adjusts. Suddenly he gives you a hard smack to help you remember. The sound echoes in the otherwise quiet room just like the stinging pain lingers on your skin.

You speak without even thinking. “I want you so bad, Papa. Please, please fuck me.”

“That’s it. You learn, finally.”

The intermission is over. Wet, obscene sounds fill the silent office, orchestrated by Copia’s unrelenting rhythm. He fucks you like he’s been desperate to do so all day, rough, hammering thrusts that would hurt if it weren’t for the way he’s hitting you just right, dragging the tip of his cock over your sweet spot again and again. You give him what he wants, join in on his symphony with your cries and whimpers, followed by the occasional please and I need you, Papa, I want you so much. Ordinarily, you would be embarrassed that anyone walking by his office door can hear you, but you’re too far gone to care now. Every stroke carries you closer to your release and you can tell he’s close too by the way his grunts become needy and off-key.

You ignore the pain in your cheek, the pain in your fingers, the way your knees are giving out underneath you. All you can focus on is how good it feels and then he’s suddenly pulling your lower body into him with his palm against your abdomen, pushing in even deeper. You involuntarily arch your back into a painful angle but it’s too good, especially once his hand snakes under your habit, searching, warm and still wet with your juices. Once his thumb grazes your clit you come undone. Your muscles spasm and you start shaking violently as you find your release, crying in high-pitched whimpers. Copia lets out a string of curses, faltering in his rhythm.

“Beg,” he says. “Beg for my come, ask me to b-breed you like a bitch.”

You’re struggling to comprehend but another growl has you babbling. “Come for me, Papa. Please breed me, let me have your s-seed.”

Your words have him moaning desperately, a sound that makes you clench even harder around him, and suddenly he stops dead in his tracks. Another moan and he’s spilling inside of you, rope after rope, twitching wildly. You almost don’t hear his next words over your panting, even though his mouth is still right by your ear.

“I love you,” he whispers. “Oh, how I love you.”

You smile, completely spent. “I love you, too.”

Copia slowly unravels your bodies and you flinch when he pulls out, his come trickling down your thighs immediately. But you’re more concerned about your aching arms as you carefully bring them back down, your joints complaining with every centimeter. Copia reaches for your wrists, rubbing slow circles before he starts massaging your numb limbs to increase the blood flow. You can’t help but stare at his disheveled form, hair tousled and lipstick smudged, his wet, softening dick still out.

Copia  presses a soft kiss to your palm before he drops your arms, inspecting your cheek instead. “Does it hurt bad? I know I went a little crazy on you, tesorino.”

“It’s fine, I like it like that,” you reply, but when he touches your bruised cheekbone you still hiss.

Copia hums but it’s not a happy sound. “I’m sorry, amore.”

You softly shake your head and pull him in for a proper kiss. He immediately sinks into your embrace, holding you like the most precious thing, and you’re happy for the support. His lips are cautious, soothing, providing all the softness he lacked earlier. You already can’t wait to return to your quarters and sink into the silky sheets of your shared bed.

When you break away, Copia rests his forehead against yours, nuzzling your nose. “You really should not make an old man wait like this,” he says. “I get so worked up, amore.”

You can’t help but grin. “Actually, my love, I think I should be late way more often.”

#copia x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv smut #copia smut #cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia fanfiction #cardinal copia smut #copia fanfiction #papa emeritus iv fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Bleach

[yoongi x reader] [1.3k+ of tolerable angst and fluff if you squint; nothing much going on but feelings are there]

A/N: I wrote this when I was missing Yoongi and weeks have passed and I'm still missing him. My bad on the late publish! Work and life got to me. :/ I hope you still remember me.

-

Yoongi hadn't moved since the moment he entered the shop and sat himself at your usual table at the corner of the artisan cafe. The spot hides you from everyone else, but you get a pretty view of passers-by. And while most patrons would avoid getting seated at the table, for you and Yoongi, it was a haven and you were just glad you didn’t have a lot of competition over the seats.

Thus, Yoongi thinks it's cruel, how, in a matter of minutes, the corner that once felt like a safe place for you and him, suddenly feels too claustrophobic for him alone. He wants nothing but to leave the place.

Your quick departure was a contrast to his static posture at the wooden seat—ruminating, processing everything. You left as quickly as you came.

He estimates you had only stayed for half an hour, and in those gone minutes, it was only you who talked while he was shocked and blindsided by what was happening that he was rendered speechless.

"Yoongi, let's break up."

No hello kiss on the cheek, or not even a curt Hi. You dived straight to the point. Your candor is a trait he appreciates, but today, he feels otherwise.

His brain struggled to comprehend what your words meant. He heard you, but somehow he didn't understand the words and all that followed. Yoongi is a man of few words—never one to talk nonstop or hold the mic at get-togethers; rather, Yoongi is a listener.

But just for today of all days, he hoped he was more vocal; articulate.

Yoongi heaves a dry rueful chuckle.

How unbelievable, he sighs.

Was this a fever dream? Did he accidentally fall asleep while waiting for you and if he wakes up now, will he find you still seated in your chair taking pictures of him as you muffle your giggles.

He finds himself bargaining to whoever was listening to let this be a dream.

The café starts to fill up, he notices.

For years, Yoongi sat on the very same chair his ass is at right now and across from him is where you should be… still—that's how it always was. He doesn't see the point of staying and saving the other chair now.

He looks around one last time. Yoongi holds on to the chance that you're still in the café pulling a mean trick on him and yet, as his eyes land on his pitiful reflection on the glass, he loses heart.

He lets a few seconds pass before he takes the cup of coffee he ordered for you, albeit it's too sweet and creamy for this taste, he'd rather not have it thrown away.

At least, he'd get to save something that shouldn't go to waste today.

-

People say when you do something in repetition, it dulls the emotion that it carries. He wonders how many more sad desperate voicemails must he leave before he stops the aching in his heart. He hates the yearning and anger that races within him.

"Y/N. It's Yoongi. Please answer my calls. I just... I need to talk to you. This can't be it—the end of us."

He isn't sure if he despises you for summoning these odd feelings out of him or it's himself he dislikes for acting this way.

Yoongi had been recalling the days you spent with and without each other before the day you broke up with him. He has been desperately searching for a reason—he needs to know why.

Was it something he said or did? Or was it something he DID NOT say or do? Or did you just wake up that day and decided you no longer loved him?

It's driving him insanely frustrated. He doesn't pray, but lately, he has been whispering pleas and promises.

One phone call—just this once. That's all he asked for.

His phone pings and on the screen pops up a notification from you—Meet me at Hakdong Park, 7PM.

-

Yoongi fidgets by the swings. His habit of biting his nails resurfacing and he faintly tastes blood as he nibbles on his thumb. He peeps at his phone to check the time and it's not long before it's 7PM. Just a few more minutes...

"Yoongi," you called, voice demure. He wouldn't have heard you if it wasn't so quiet in the park, aside from the cicadas chirping in the background.

Yoongi quickly stands up, but before he could run towards you for a hug, he holds himself back and roots his feet on the sand. Instead, he waits for you to walk towards him. And as you approach him, he wishes you would hold him.

Just this once, he pleads once again.

But unlike his last request, this falls on deaf ears.

You sat down on the swing beside Yoongi. He copies you and sits next to you—mindful that his knees won't touch yours.

He hears you let out a defeated sigh and he was ready to lead the conversation this time, but you speak first.

"I miss you." You turn your head towards him and smile bashfully. As if what left your mouth was something that shouldn't have been let out.

Yoongi can hear his heart beating, melting the bitter feeling you poured on his heart not long ago. "Then why didn't you answer my calls?" He wanted the words he spewed to be pointed, accusing. But that was never him, both of you knew that, unfortunately.

You hum as you scratch your nails in your jeans—a nervous tick of yours that Yoongi learned over the years. He also knows how to quell those nerves and his own hand starts to fidget as he lingers to reach for yours.

"I was afraid of what you would say." There were long spaces of breath between your words, as if unsure.

"You were afraid...of me?" Yoongi confirms. He's left more confused than the last time. He tilts his head to peek at you, but the darkness and shadows cover your face.

"Not exactly. I guess it's more of your words. I had to keep away from you because I was afraid you would change my mind...about the break up."

Yoongi hums and nods. "At first that's why I called you." He wouldn't deny it, because his first thought was to do just that. But as emotions settled and he found himself in a better headspace, he realized he wanted more to understand why you wanted to end things with him. "But now, I just need to know why. At least make me understand where you're coming from."

Keeping his crawling limbs to him, Yoongi clenches and unclenches his hands. He glances at you as you nod and visibly gulp air. He catches the shift in your eyes, and he knows how your mind works overtime. He wonders if you're thinking of an amicable reason to shoo him away or were there just too many reasons to consider that you had to take time and sort your thoughts?

The former has to be it. He always knew he was difficult to love—always lacking. Not enough of this, not enough of that. He thinks he's got your answer, and he thinks he might not be able to take it if he hears it from you—so he prepares to leave.

"I loved you too much," you murmur. Seeming afraid of your confession. Disregarding his earlier doubts, Yoongi stands from the wooden plank. He kneels in front of you and takes your freezing hands between his, bloodied thumb circling your knuckles.

It wasn't a reason he expected nor considered. His confusion must have shone through his face that made you let out a sad smile.

"You really should stop biting your nails." Yoongi watches in slow motion as you take his hand in your palms and lift them to your lips for a soft peck.

-

#yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga #yoongi fic #bts

[jake-g-lockley]

Uncontrollable: Part 1 (Poe Dameron x fem!reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Part 2

Summary: You are sworn enemies with Poe Dameron, but alcohol likes to tell a different story. Warnings: MINORS DNI. Swearing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly kids), fem masturbation, heavy smut in next part. Word Count: 2.2 k words

A/N: If you think Part 1 is descriptive, wait till y'all see part two. I seriously have no idea what possessed me to write this but here we are. More moon boys stuff coming soon hehe. (GIF not mine)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your POV

“That was a shit job! Snap, back me up on this.” your voice cuts through the cheers that greeted you as you climb out of your X-Wing, ripping off your vest.

“You’re the one who decided it was best to ignore your commanding officer and do whatever the fuck you wanted to do!” The Commander’s voice echoed around the docking bay and people turned to watch the bickering unfold.

You were not going down without a fight. Not yet today. Never. Not when the argument was with him.

“I said I had everything under control and I was going to blast that last TIE out of the fucking sky, when you decided that it’ll be be best to let your big ass ego take control of you again and stop me!” You yell as you take a step closer to the fuming pilot.

“You could have been killed if I didn’t cover you!”

“So? Why the fuck do you care if I’m dead or alive, Commander?” Your words echoed through the hangar.

For once in your life, the commander was rendered silent. His gaze hardened and he scowled, clenching his jaw, upper lip twitching.

“The both of you need to stop this nonsense at once.” A shiver ran down your spine as you spun around to see the General walking towards you and Poe.

“All this constant bickering for weeks. You both do realize that we’re fighting on the same side, right?” She questioned as you and Poe hung your heads. “This was an overall win and you both should be celebrating, not throwing insults like a bunch of teenagers.”

You hated every single second that he was in the room with you and your sleeping arrangements at base were not helping either. Due to some stupid scheduling issue, he was your bunk mate and you both had to share quarters. You endlessly tried to opt for a transfer after every argument but the transfers were denied every single time.

“The both of you need to loosen up, go have some fun. That is an order.” You grimaced at Leia’s words but nodded.

You really didn’t like disappointing Leia. She was, afterall, the reason why you were here in the first place. She was right, you and him were fighting on the same side no matter how much you despised him. Besides, the overall win was something to definitely celebrate and you needed something to take the edge off the anger you were currently feeling.

Few drinks in and you were a different person, making up dances with Rose, throwing your head back and laughing at anything that you thought was funny. You were relatively tipsy when you leaned onto the table to take another shot, blurily locking eyes with your sworn enemy, who was leaning casually in a seat close to your right.

“Oh, look who's here to spoil my night. Commander Casanova. Thought you’d be fucking some mechanic or tech in some alley somewhere…” you slurred, leaning close to him, your nose inches from the shell of his ear.

“Ah, so you were thinking about me fucking, huh?” he whispered.

“Oh, fuck you.” You lowly laughed in his ear and grabbed the shot, downing it and slamming the glass back onto the table.

“I think you should go slow on the drinks, Y/N.” Finn chastised, patting your forearm.

“Well, I think I shouldn’t, mom.” you say sticking out your tongue and turning to walk back to the dance floor.

You continued your little pattern; dancing, drinking, peeing and repeating, till you were drunk beyond comprehension. Still, that one lingering thought remained in your head.

Poe Dameron.

Fuck, you hated him so much that you spent hours just thinking about how you would absolutely destroy him. All the pranks and ignoring rank didn’t quench your thirst for the hatred you felt. It was like an uncontrollable addiction, hating him. You hated that he was always so optimistic, brave and cocky. You hated the fact that he was such an amazing pilot and commander. You hated that he tried to save your life. You hated the praises that he would often dish out to the squadron. You hated his stupid cute face and fluffy boyish curls.

Cute? Maker, you were definitely losing it.

You stumbled towards your room, thoughts swimming nauseatingly around your head. After a few tries with the keypad, the door flew open and you stumbled into the darkness of your room. You kicked off your boots and jumped into your bed with the last of your strength.

“Ah, so you were thinking about me fucking, huh?” his voice echoed in your head as you shifted in your bed.

Yes, yes you were and still are. You’ve heard tales of his endeavors and a part of you wanted to experience it yourself. The rumors were not enough, you wanted to feel his rough skillful hands running down every inch of your body. You wanted those commanding lips of his to whisper dirty secrets into your ears till you surrendered all of your being to him.

But you also wanted that pilot with such sacrilegious and obscene sin that could even make a sith blush, cower and hide. You wanted to do things to him that were so filthy it made you squirm as you felt the heat pooling in your lower abdomen. Immediately, you bring two of your fingers to your lips and suck them, pulling the wet digits out and sliding them down your pants with your bottom lip between your teeth.

The second they came into contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves, you sigh, his name tumbling out of your mouth. You giggled stupidly at how his name rolled off your tongue with ease, the alcohol making you nearly delirious as you slipped a finger into your wetness for some relief.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Poe’s POV Poe squinted into the darkness, almost positive that he heard his name being called. He listened intently until he heard it again and it was coming from the bottom bunk. His eyes widened at the sound of your voice, and an electrifying shiver coursed through his body as he shot up from his bed. Silently, he peeked over the top bunk to look down at you and saw you writhing in your sleep. He glanced at the clock and slowly slipped out of bed, climbing down the ladder to wake you up from whatever dream you were having. Then, a gut-wrenching moan tore through the silence of the room making him stumble.

His eyes scan over your form and his mouth dropped when his gaze trailed over your right arm that was slotted between your legs. He knelt down beside your bed and stared, not believing what he was seeing. Your eyes were blissfully shut, wet lips parting slightly, looking absolutely divine in the dark. You arched your back, and moaned his name again as the shameful wet sound of your pussy filled his ears. He thickly swallowed as he watched your left hand traveled up your thigh and slipped under your resistance issued shirt to palm your tit.

“Fuck, use my body to do whatever you please, Poe.” you whined and Poe had to grip the edge of the bed tighter to physically stop his hands from moving. He knew that if he started on you, he couldn’t trust himself to stop.

Poe shifted uncomfortably as he felt his own arousal take over his body. For the second time today, you had rendered him absolutely stunned and speechless. Watching you was absolute torture but he didn’t want you to stop. You never called him by his first name, always by his ranking and you saying his name in this suggestive position was absolutely sacred to him. His name sounded like a prayer in your shallow breath and it clawed through him like a painful poison, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

The vulgar sounds around him escalated and he knew you were close. He watched with lust blown eyes as your body shudders and your toes curl under the pressure that had built up in you. Poe bit his bottom lip so hard that he drew blood as you soundlessly mouthed his name again and again.

Fuck.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your POV “Ughh…”

You woke up with a splitting headache and you got up to dash to the refresher to puke as the nausea took over every cell of your body. You stared at the state of your face in the mirror above the sink and decided that it wasn’t your worst hangover look. You shrugged, pulling your toothbrush to brush the icky taste out of your mouth.

You strained, trying to remember the events of last night. The last thing you could remember was the snarky remark that Poe whispered in your ear. You roll your eyes and shake your head, stepping out of the refresher. You glance at Poe’s bunk and he wasn't there, his bed was neatly made as usual. You shrug your yesterday’s clothes off and pull on a fresh pair, throwing the dirty laundry into the basket beside the bed.

You trudged into the cantina with a scowl etched to your face, and slumped onto a bench where Finn handed you a mug of steaming coffee.

“I warned you to slow down, Y/N.” he said, patting your back and fondly ruffling your hair as you grumpily sip the coffee.

“Did I do something stupid yesterday, mother?” you say to Finn, only to hear a scoff from Poe who was sitting beside Finn.

“Not that I know of?” Finn said, narrowing his eyes and glancing at Poe.

Your gaze met Poe’s and a chill ran down your spine. He was staring at you with a ghost of a smirk etched onto his face, his eyes darker than usual. You blink and look away, confused. Soon after you did, Poe got up and left without a word.

“What’s up with Mr. Grumpy Pants?” you question, your eyes following him out of the cantina.

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know.” Finn said, holding his hands up.

You sigh and scroll through your datapad, looking at your schedule for the day. ‘Training with Black Leader’ was on the top of the schedule and you groaned, not wanting to spend the whole morning training with Poe. Still, you gulped down the rest of your coffee, said bye to Finn and made your way to the training facility.

Poe was there, his hands wrapped as he hit the punching bag in front of him, wearing a tank top and cargo pants, his jacket discarded at the corner of the facility. His muscles glistened with sweat as he pounded the bag with immense strength.

“Wanna spar, Commander?” you ask smugly, but he continued to ignore you, administering more punches to the bag.

You shrug and settle down onto the floor to start stretching as you watch him, popping a chewstim into your mouth. Something seems to be bothering him immensely because that punching bag was really getting pummeled left right and center. A wave of pleasure surged through you with the realization that something was making Poe Dameron extremely riled up.

“Today’s session is going to be fun.” You thought as your jaw worked the chewstim.

Poe continued his assault on the punching bag until every single member of the Black Squadron had arrived.

“Alright, everyone take your places.” his voice boomed around the facility.

You got up and shuffled towards Jessika, but you felt a strong hand close around your wrist, pulling you until you were flush against a wall of muscle. You swallow the gasp that threatened to escape you as you turn around to look at Poe, who kept his gaze on the rest of the members.

You continue to hold your steady gaze at him as he belted out instructions that you barely hear from the rush of blood that sounded in your ears. His hand is still gripping your wrist tightly and you were sure he was leaving a bruise on you but you were too shocked to move.

Once he was done instructing the rest, he lowered his lips to your ears.

“Spit that gum out before I force it out of you.” he whispered and you rolled your eyes.

You wrench your wrist out of his grasp and walk to the bin and spat it out before joining Poe in the center of the facility. Without a word, the both of you start sparring, Poe skillfully deflecting your attacks and advancements while simultaneously avoiding your eye contact. You draw back and prowl around Poe, trying to catch his eye.

“What the fuck is up with you today?” you say, before you can stop yourself.

“No talking while sparring.” he simply says and starts administering hits that you blocked.

“No, really, what's got you so riled up, Commander.” you tease again, picking the clearly bleeding scab.

Without subsequent warning, Poe grabs you and flips you over, your body landing onto the floor with a thud, the breath knocked out of you as he knelt beside you. As you take a deep breath and rub your aching chest with your hand, he leaned in to whisper something in your ear.

“I can use your body to do whatever I please.”

You lay there for a while, trying to comprehend what he had just said. Suddenly, to your horror, a memory left your subconscious and hammered its way to the front of your mind.

“Fuck, use my body to do whatever you please, Poe.”

He knows.

He was there.

Oh, you royally fucked up.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tagging: @ahookedheroespureheart @mintpurplemnm

#poe dameron fic #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron smut #poe smut #poe switch #poe #poe dameron #star wars #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron imagines #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagines #moon knight #oisaac #oscar isaac #black squadron #poe dameron angst #marvel moon knight

[quohotos]

I present to you, my Magnum Opus. The Underland Chronicles rendered in the style of an early 2000s flash based point and click adventure game (the MNOG)

I have spent so long on this. Inkscape doesn't log total project time the way Krita does, but it's the most time I've spent on any single piece of vector art. Even then there's still a million things I want to go in and change but... aaaaaa you have to cut it off somewhere. I have been copy pasting rats for hours, and don't even get me started on the shadows. The shadows look good, they are not physically accurate. I tried.

Here are some bonus features!

No text overlay. Clean if you want to print it or make it a desktop background.

Close up on Solovet and Ajax I've never actually drawn Solovet, or any underlanders really. I definitely am phoning it in by framing her from behind. When it came to designing what kind of armor they'd wear I took inspiration from both Greek and Roman designs. Ajax was originally much more saturated red until @paksenarrion-dorthansdotter corrected me. The books describe him as dried blood colored. (please don't look too close at the rats they don't hold up to scrutiny)

Close up on Ripred. He looks just a little bit small and fat in this one, but that's just because he's slouching. When he stands up it all stays in his hips and ass. I always draw Ripred like he appeared on my cover of Code of Claw. The scar on his face isn't really visible from this angle because it cuts left to right and he's looking left.

Lastly, here's Gregor and Ares. There is an official design for his armor as seen on the cover of my copy of Code of Claw. I redesigned it because I thought that version looked kinda pants, tbh. Little goofy and hard to take seriously.

The great thing about vector art is you can zoom in and obsess over tiny little details that end up only being like 4 pixels wide in the final export. Case in point, these rando flyers. Such minute detail that gets flattened out to a single pixel in some cases.

Sidenote: I always imagined the flyers as more microbat inspired, which is why I draw them with tails... but these ones end up looking very flying fox-like and have also some megabat proportions. This isn't really an intentional artistic choice, it's just a compromise I had to strike to make them look decent. I need to practice drawing microbats more.

Oh well. The author isn't that descriptive about their proportions so I guess it's up to interpretation.

Lastly, here's the original sketch that I traced over. A lot of features ultimately got cut, as well as the dimensions to the side being changed. Solovet originally was going to have a braid but then I remembered that line from the first book where Luxa explains that you have to cut your hair to go to war. Ripred also looked a lot more teddy bear like in the sketch, so I ended up not even tracing him. Bane was a redraw, and I actually did trace part of Ajax and then just frehanded the rest.

If anyone is reading this far and hasn't read the underland Chronicles, now is a great time to go to your local library and pick it up. These books slap and this tiny community would love to suffer our brainrot welcome you into our fold.

Fly You High

#my art #tuc #the underland chronicles #the underland chronicles spoilers #tuc spoilers #the code of claw spoilers #vector art #mnog #bats #rats #fantasy #tuc20 #inkscape

[orioncore]

♠️♥️ roll the dice and pick a card! ♣️♦️

close-ups and rambles under the read more

close-ups w/o the glowy affect on the eyes and the card back I drew

good lord.....this took. So. Long. the file says 13 hours and I don't even know how I spent so much time on this but I LOVE HOW IT TURNED OUT SOOOOO MUCH.

the outfit was a pain in the ass to find the right colors for but once I got past that the rest was very fun

everything about this drawing was fun for me (even the hands and bg which is a shocker I know)

but hey! first actually finished piece of the year! I think, personally, this is a great way to start off my art for the year (my doodles count but not as fully rendered finished things like this)

thank you to hiiro amagi for being gorgeous love u king

I might end up drawing this outfit on the other members if I feel like it, maybe just in doodles though, but I still really like how it looks imo, took inspiration from the og alk uniform, the vermillion fits and the artistic partisan fits for this one! wanted to make it more blue to contrast his hair and I think it turned out nice (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

here's to more art from me this year LOL

#ori art #ensemble stars #enstars #hiiro amagi #amagi hiiro #no id #GOD this took a while

[violetvelourr]

Spot the difference 🙈

I got a bit carried away while making this illustration…

Yesterday, just as I was almost ready to post the chapter and the illustration, I froze for a moment, trying to put 2 and 2 together in my head: something was wrong. And then it suddenly dawned on me: Kakashi is holding his fox mask... which in that very damn chapter was previously broken. So he could by no means have it. And no, I did not have a plot twist in mind where he’d managed to restore it in the place of their overnight stay…

When I realized this blooper, I began to laugh until I got tears in my eyes. I’ve spent several hours trying to fit this damn mask into the overall composition, then struggled again with it during the rendering stage, only to discover that it wasn’t even needed there… and I remember feeling really smart for coming up with this detail in the first place (smart ass, yeah)…

So I ended up making two versions – one for the chapter and one, well, for the sake of saving the version with the damn mask because I’ve spent so much time on it haha… 🙈 and I was so upset that I even forgot to add the missing string (yeah, supporting the idea that the mask just glues to his face 🙈).

#kakashi #kakashi fanart #anbu kakashi #Kakashi fanfic #fanfic illustration

[jerzwriter]

Just a Kiss

Book:                   Wake the Dead (prequel)

Pairing:                Troy Hassan, F!MC (Zoe Rivera)

Rating:                 Teen

Category:            Fluff - First Kiss

Summary:   When Zoe is worried, she knows who to call for assistance. But how will troy handle her request?

Words: 1024

A/N: I decided to try @creativepromptsforwriting 30-Day Writing Challenge, and I promised myself I'd keep each entry under 600 words. Well, fail. lol I'll try again tomorrow :) Also participating in @choicesjanuarychallenge Day 24 Friends

WTD Masterlist 30-Day Challenge Masterlist

Troy belongs to Pixelberry Studios, Zoe is kind of mine.

It was already nine o’clock, an hour after The Tower’s curfew, when Troy entered the cafeteria with his signature grin and swagger. Effervescent and bright, one would never know he was breaking a half-dozen rules that could land him sewage duty… or far worse.  

Across the room, his best friend Zoe was a portrait of contrast. Glum and worried, she barely cracked a smile when he glanced her way. He shimmied along the edge of the wall, the one place surveillance cameras couldn’t reach, then tossed an apple her way as he approached her. Finally! A smile. After all,  apples were a rare treat.

“How’d you score this?” she asked. 

Grabbing her nose between his fingers, he smirked. “A gentleman never gives up his sources.”

A thunderous snort escaped from her nose, and even the unflappable Troy’s eyes filled with fear as it echoed through the cavernous room.

“Shhhh! You’re the one who's going to get us caught!”

“Oh, where’s all that bravado now, Mr. Hassan? I’m sorry, it was just the mention of you and gentleman in the same sentence….”

“Hey! I can be gentle… and I’m a man… so I qualify.”

Zoe raised a brow. “Your source wouldn’t be Leah, would it?”  She asked, biting into the juicy apple. “I’m sure cozying up to one of the commander’s daughters has its benefits.”

“I’m not cozying up to her…” he started, but when their eyes met, he gave in. He could lie to her, not even as kids. “OK, so there’s some cozying. But you’re benefiting from my sacrifice,” he laughed, watching her devour the delicious fruit. “So I guess it all works out.”

“Right…That’s why you’re cozying up to her,” Zoe laughed.

“OK, enough about me,” he diverted. “What’s got you so down?”

“I’m not down,” she shrugged.

“Zo, try that with someone else. But can’t fool your best friend of twelve years.”

“Who says you’re my best friend,” she teased. Quickly surrendering, she bumped her shoulder against his. “OK, you are!”

“So, what’s going on?”

 “I’m not down… I’m scared.”

“You don’t scare easily.”

“I do when Zaid asks me out. We have a date next week.”

“Nice! Zoe, you’re sixteen, you’ve been crushing on him for a year… I say this is long overdue.”

“Well, that’s kind of the problem.”

“You’re losing me, Zo.”

“Everyone has dated except me… I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“Just go with it,” he assured. “You’re a quick learner. You’ll be fine.”

She sighed, falling back against the wall. “And what if… what if he wants to kiss me.”

“Then kiss him.”

“But, I’ve never kissed anyone before….”

“Ohhhh. I see. Don’t worry, it’s easy. Just do what comes naturally. You can’t screw it up.”

“You’re full of shit! How many hours have I spent listening to you bitching about how poorly half the girls in the colony kiss! I don’t want Zaid telling someone that about me!”

“I need to stop being so honest,” he grimaced. “But I think you’ll nail it.”

“Oh, I will. Because you’re going to help me practice!”

She stifled a chuckle when he turned, his face ashen and his eyes wide with shock.

“Did I manage to render the great Troy Hassan speechless?”

“It’s just… just… us? Kiss?” 

“Don’t get all excited. I’m just using you as a test dummy. Plus, if I’m to believe all the rumors, you’re pretty good at it.”

“Well…” he snickered. “If we’re being honest….”

“Then, kiss me? Come on, Troy! I just don’t want to make an ass out of myself.”

“Zoe…” he stuttered. “It’s just… awkward.”

She defiantly folded her arms in front of her chest as she defended her stance.

“Troy! I’m probably the only person in the colony you haven’t kissed… what’s one more.”

“But what if….”

Resting her chin on her hand, she sneered. “Don’t worry, Troy, it’s not going to make me fall madly in love with you.”

“HA! I wouldn’t count on that!” He laughed. “OK, come here.”

Zoe scooted over and sat, legs crisscrossed, on the floor in front of him. They stared at each other anxiously for what probably amounted to seconds, but the unusual discomfort between them made it feel much longer.  Zoe’s desire for that awkwardness to end finally propelled her forward. Her lips puckered, she placed a gentle peck on his mouth.

With their eyes still open, they stared at each other, unsure what to do, when Troy slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her into a tender kiss. Her heart was racing when her lips parted, and she felt his tongue against hers.  After a moment, Troy deepened the kiss ever so slightly as she let out a tiny whimper.   She put her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed away, placing one more kiss on the corner of his mouth before she sat up.

“So, that’s what everyone makes such a fuss over?” She blushed.  

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled. “That’s it.”

“I have to admit, it was kind of nice. Was I any good? Would you know I was a beginner?”

Troy chuckled as his head tilted to the side. “You were great.  I told you you’d be a natural.”

“Oh, Yey!!!” She squealed, clapping her hands lightly.

Then she caught a glimpse of the clock.  “Oh, shit! It’s almost 9:30.  I promised Ana I’d be back by 9:30 sharp! She’s going to kill me!”

“Then you better go, but Zo… please don’t tell her.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? She’d literally kill you!”

Zoe bolted toward the door, moving as quickly as possible without being detected, but she stopped just before exiting.

“Troy?” She said, looking over her shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.  I’m kind of glad you were my first kiss.”

With his mind in a bit of a fog, “Uh, anytime,” was all he could muster.

With one last bright smile, Zoe was gone, and Troy slumped against the wall.  She was right; he had kissed many before her, but this was the first time he kissed his best friend, and while Zoe traipsed happily back to her room, Troy stood up more baffled than ever before.

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations

WTD Only: @kyra75 @cariantha @lilyoffandoms @missameliep

30-Day Challenge: @mydemonsdrivealimo

#playchoices fanfic #wake the dead #wake the dead choices #troy hassan #choices fanfic #30-day writing challenge #day 1 #first kiss #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

[themurderofcrowscollective]

Some more HCs cause I feel like a caretaker feeding you feral little shits, and I'm oddly enjoying it while wondering where all of you keep coming from. - Hands down, Jason listens to Will Wood. Especially when he's going through it mentally and emotionally, so the best course of action to take is just sing along with him if he's singing or sit next to him while he's listening to it and sitting on the floor of his bedroom or his private bathroom. His favorite song has to be 'Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave.' (which is also my own favorite song) - If there's one person in the Wayne family who has a lot of squishmallows and is widely known to go buy more, that'd be a tie between Tim, Dick, Damian, Duke and Steph. Squishmallows are fucking comfortable. - You know it's been a fun night if you wake up at 3 AM and the first thing you hear is the muffled and quiet arguments about what food to get accompanied with the sound of things being moved around in the fridge. The batboys and Batman always have an improvised victory feast if the stakeout went great. - Nine times out of ten, after a long night of patrol and kicking crime's ass, everyone does not change out of their outfits and sleep for nearly a day. Alfred calls these days 'Lazy Bats Day'. - If there's one thing that is very precious to the Wayne Family, it's sleep. Sure, Tim pulls a lot of all-nighters but he's not the only one who's had his fair share of all-nighters spent fighting crime or investigating on a crime scene. - There's an ongoing competition on who snores the loudest. No one knows who's won yet, but so far it's Tim that snores the loudest. - Speaking of times where the Batfamily has stayed up for days, I am proud to present to you, the best times of the sleep-deprived Wayne Family: 1. Dick fumbling with his words and eventually laughing himself to death because he can barely make a sentence without giggling like a madman. There's been quite a few times he was incoherent on his reports during patrols that has rendered Batman speechless, trying to understand his son's blabbering.

2. Jason becoming more chaotic and using his sleep-deprivation as fuel to keep going or else he's gonna crash harder. You can see him walking around the Wayne Manor singing a song at the top of his lungs while slapping himself in the face to keep himself awake if he has to. He also becomes more talkative. 3. We all know Tim goes zombie mode, but after a month of all-nighters, he's like a cryptid that the Wayne kids have made an urban legend about. 4. Damian while he's sleep-deprived becomes more childish, and he acts like a kid his age, which is cute and funny at the same time because he'll laugh at anything you tell him. Put him and Dick in one room and you'll hear them dying of laughter within 30 minutes, and if you check on them, they'll be on the floor with tears in their eyes. 5. Duke tries to get enough sleep, but he will ultimately fail and so he becomes veeeery distant and lost in his own world. He has a very short attention span. 6. Cassandra is more hyper-focused and a bit paranoid, being more squirrely and fast to react while she hasn't been able to sleep. It's even harder to get her to sleep because she'll think you're out to hurt her. 7. Steph is the same as Tim, first a zombie then immediately a cryptid who will attack you if you look her in the eyes. 8. Bruce with 0 sleep is odd. Just straight up odd. You can find him staring at the wall for an hour before writing down something that sounds like a good idea, when really it's just something that already exists. Sometimes though, he's just not ever to be seen. But only sometimes, during the darkest of nights, can you see the grown man eating out of the fridge. Alfred gets the healthy amount of sleep and always has been, but he's the one who takes pictures and keeps tabs of everyone (especially the cryptid duo) while making a documentary on the cryptid duo.

#i wrote this while really fucking high #batkids #batman #batfamily #batfam headcanons #batfamily headcanons #batfam

[bluheaven-adw]

Hi ive seen your art while scrolling through the trollhunters tag and i really need to ask because this is kinda weirding me out...

Is your art a result of you drawing so closely to the show it looks like the 3d models or a bad edit of the 3d models..

Because for me it looks like both and i cant tell which one it is and it confuses me each time i see your art

🤔

Honestly, this has kind of thrown me for a loop and I'm still not sure how to take this? But I'm going to take it as a compliment. And, for those interested, y'all are getting a bit if history after the jump.

Short answer: It's the first one. I draw very close to the show. It's all my drawing. I love Jim's design and strive to get as close as possible to how he looks in the show. I'm a technical realist most of the time. I also have years and years of experience in a lot of different types of art and mediums. So for fun I thought I'd do a screen grab from my current WIP while I do a little bit of quick and dirty work. I've clicked through some of the various layers, sketch, lines, finished layers... and then my ugly process for all to see lol. I'm self taught in procreate.... I have no idea what I'm doing. Usually I'd spend way more time on things.... but that would be a long ass video. A lot of my current work takes weeks. The one of Blinky reading to sleeping Jim has over 65 hours in it, and the Masquerade Ball is close to 80.

Long answer!! All of my art is my own (with the exception of one borrowed art work, which was given credit), drawn by me from ugly concept sketch (that sometimes looks vaguely like our characters.... and sometimes just circles and triangles) to polished sketch, to final line work and then color and rendering. I'm self taught, but also have some fine art background... and some in CAD and graphics and when I first started college it was with the goal of automotive design, so I'm more of a technical artist than what most people are used to. I have a background in Copics and my color and blending from those bled over into Procreate. I have medication induced aphantasia, so a lot of times need references. I've been doing sketches of Jim every night for almost a year now. There's a few speed sketch vids on my instagram (same username). I do have photoshop, but the extent of my editing skills is photoshopping aftermarket wheels on my car to find ones I liked, and it's been an ungodly long time since I've done that. I mostly have it because, prior to disability, I spent a lot of time as a photographer shooting landscapes and such, and shooting In infrared.... but I haven't touched a camera or photoshop since...... 2017? I don't even remember how to use it for the most part. Photoshop is not like riding a bike.

Trollhunters and especially Jim, are my comfort show. Helped me through some bad times... and then RotT happened basically right when I had a major surgery, and the combo really messed me up. I started sketching Jim as a way to heal from both... and well, it was all downhill from there 😂

That's probably way more of an answer than you were looking for!

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #toa #jim lake jr #toa trollhunters #trollhunters tales of arcadia #trollhunters toa #toa fanart #blu answers

[thedreamsmith]

Forged in Dragonfire (Chapter 5)

Summary:  Aemond’s attention is caught by a noble lady with an unusual hobby. Lady Edeline is nothing like anyone he has ever met.

Please note: this chapter includes a moderately explicit description of female masturbation 

No others had challenged her in the training yard that day, instead watching warily as she resumed her usual drills with the prince. Her fallen foe had beat a hasty retreat from the scene of his lost dignity, the jeers of his comrades nipping at his heels.

He had not been a good swordsman, Prince Aemond had told her, using the goldcloak’s poor example to once again impress upon her the necessity for good structure and proper footwork. He only let her finish training for the day when her arms were shaking too badly to hold her sword aloft.

‘Once more.’ The prince’s voice was firm, the toe of his boot unyielding as he used it to poke her in the side. Edeline groaned, the cold earth was divine against her bruised and sweaty skin. Her legs had buckled, setting her firmly on her ass, and that was where she had stayed.

‘I cannot. Leave me to die.’

‘Are all noble ladies so dramatic? Or is it just the blacksmithing ones?’ Aemond had mercifully ceased his leather-clad assault on her ribs, but from the way he was holding his training sword, she knew it wouldn’t be long before he switched his torture implement of choice.

His verbal jab, however, was enough to force her upright, despite the way her exhausted muscles screamed at the motion.

‘Me?’ She heard her voice rise several octaves, drawing the attention of a nearby cluster of soldiers. Edeline winced, her attempts at clinging to some scraps of dignity were failing in truly spectacular fashion. ‘I am not the one marching all over the Red Keep in a dramatic leather coat, swishing my hair around at every opportunity!’  

‘No, no and no.’ She pointed her sword up at him, eyes narrowed. ‘I am done for today, your highness.’ She set her jaw; chin tilted up defiantly. There was straw in her hair.

‘Wilful creature.’ The prince huffed, but offered her his hand nonetheless. With a hard swallow she hoped escaped the prince’s notice, she reached up to grasp his hand, her fingers scraping over the callouses on his palm. Even after several hours of training, and her own far-from-slight frame, Prince Aemond hauled her to her feet with no apparent effort, a feat that sent a peculiar warmth down her spine.

His touch lingered even once she was back on her feet, sliding forward to cup her elbow, steadying her.

‘I will send a maester to your family’s residence to tend to your aches.’ The prince seemed to remember himself, withdrawing his hand to rest on the pommel of his sword. The bastard blade she had forged had remained sheathed at his hip every day since she had given it to him, but she had yet to see him draw it. The raw sapphire gleamed from within the folds of his cloak, thumb stroking over the gem’s rough surface as he oversaw her training.

‘That truly is not-‘

‘I insist.’ She watched as his tongue flicked over his bottom lip. ‘You must look after your body just as much as you do your weapon.’ Seven Hells… And didn’t that conjure truly sinful images? Though she sincerely doubted that the prince spent any time thinking about her body, unless it was to correct her posture while she was drilling. 

‘Very well.’ She sucked on her bottom lip, worrying the wind-chapped skin between her teeth. The prince’s eye flicked down, drawn by the motion.

‘After all, you cannot give yourself more scars than you can plausibly explain to your future husband.’

‘You sound like my mother.’ Edeline rolled her eyes as the prince chuckled quietly. ‘Most men do not care about the state of a lady’s skin, so long as her tits are bare.’

Aemond’s mirth disappeared at once, replaced by a curiously queasy expression. ‘Not all men are such base creatures, my lady.’

She swallowed hard, rendered mute by the sudden shift in the tone of their jesting. Delicacy was needed here, that much she knew.

‘I am a rare and lucky woman to have never been intimate with the kind of cruel men I know to exist in this world.’ Her answer seemed to satisfy the prince, for his expression relaxed a fraction. He did not ask what sort of men, precisely, she had been intimate with in the past.

Half of her was glad he had not. The other half wanted to let her wildness show.

*

They fell into their post-training routine in comfortable silence, the quiet shushing of oiled cloth over steel the only sound as they sat at the edge of the yard. The sweet, musky scent of the oil surrounded her, mixed with the salty tang of sweat and the crisp edge that came with winter mornings, even this far South.

Once they had tended to their training weapons, Aemond started on his bastard sword, the live steel blinding in the winter sunlight. There was truly no reason for her to stay any longer now, but for the love of the Father she could not drag her gaze away from the steady stroke of the prince’s hand over the metal. The blade forged by her own hands.

‘You have yet to use it.’ It is not a question, and Prince Aemond knows better than to question her expert eye. The blade had nary a scratch or nick marring the gleaming edge, and even the best squire in the Seven Kingdoms could not keep live steel in such pristine condition.

‘It is a masterwork.’ His jaw worked silently, his gaze never leaving the blade as he continued the rhythmic motion. ‘It would not be right to use it for something as mundane as training.’ The platinum curtain of his hair almost obscured his face, a stark contrast to the dark leather of his jacket.

‘I did not mean to disobey your wishes, your highness.’ Edeline stuffed her hands into the depths of her cloak, the chill creeping into her bones now that she was not moving. ‘I know you asked for an unadorned blade, but the sapphire was truly a wonder to behold - I could not deny the urge to include it in the piece.’

Only then did the prince raise his eye and their gazes met, unbidden. Heat filled her face at the truth she had unwittingly revealed, unspoken but hanging between them, as delicate as spun air and sharp as steel.

‘You crafted my blade as you saw fit, I could not have asked for more.’

She dipped her head, accepting that she had not angered him, but unsure at how to respond. The prince had returned to oiling his sword, which she took as a sign of dismissal. So with a muttered thank you for the day’s training, she hurried from the yard, the blood still burning beneath her skin.

*

The prince had kept his word, and not two hours after she returned home, a maester from the Keep had appeared at the door, bearing all manner of tinctures and salves for her aching muscles. The wizened scholar was taciturn and efficient, much to her relief. He briefly examined the rapidly forming bruises along her arms and ribs before explaining in a whispering, papery voice how to apply the medicines he had brought.

Later while reclining in a tub before the hearth in her chambers, Edeline resolved to soundly thank the prince for his kindness. She had rarely known this kind of relief; the complete lack of burns, aches or bruises she had come to expect from her covert line of work.

As the fire crackled and the evening grew later, she found her thoughts wandering more and more towards the younger Targaryen prince, setting her blood simmering even as the bathwater cooled.

A quiet groan slipped past her lips as she let her hand wander down her body, forgoing the light, teasing touches she so enjoyed inflicting upon herself when taking her pleasure. She could still feel Aemond’s gaze on her, appraising, burning, as she laid the young goldcloak low.

It would have been impossible to tell how damp she had become whilst submerged, had she not been acutely aware of the wetness between her thighs since that morning. Water lapped at the edges of the wooden tub as she lazily circled the pads of her fingers at the apex of her thighs.

She sighed softly as the exquisite heat in her core grew, and her imagination transformed her own touches into a swordsman’s long, calloused digits; the warm air brushing across her skin into tender kisses.

Her neck and spine arched, night-dark hair tumbling over the side of the tub as she pictured Prince Aemond standing over her, pale and regal, mouth parted and eye dark with lust as he watched her come undone.

She hovered on the brink for one exquisite, unbearable moment, every muscle drawn taut like the string of a bow.

With a whimper, her climax shattered through her, and Edeline bit down hard on her lip as to muffle her cries. It would not do for one of the servants or, Seven forbid, her family, to investigate the sound.

Waves of pleasure continued to crash over her, even after her fingers stilled on her cunt, and it was a long while before she came down from the high, drowsy and limp.

Almost boneless with satisfaction and exhaustion, Edeline climbed from the now-cold bath before collapsing into the downy comfort of her bed, her skin still dripping onto the thick furs.

It was not long before sleep claimed her; the imagined scent of dragonfire and sword oil curling around her like the arms of a lover.

@mswintersoldier​ @deadbranch​

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x oc #aemond x ofc #oc #ofc

[ardentesoteric]

How about 8, 15, and 20 for the LOTRO ask game?

-lotrojourney

Thank you so much for the ask!

8. Do you have a favorite and/or least favorite instance?

I'm going to break this down between "dungeon instances" and "quest instances" because I confused myself about which was intended. :D This is only a sampling, as there are so many to choose from!

For dungeon instances, my favorites include: Inn of the Forsaken for its very interesting mechanics, Carn Dum for the epic screenshots at the end, and Den of Pughlak even though I haven't actually played it myself, it's just such a cool and trippy instance.

My least favorite Dungeon Instances are Mirror-halls of Lumul-nar because I always get lost and can't keep track of the mirrors, and Eithel Gwaur, the Filth-well, because I do not like the sewers, and I also always get lost.

As for quest instances, my favorites include The Blade That was Broken, since it is the culmination of so much hard work and a great look into some behind the scenes of book events, the instance in Imloth Melui with Forlong's wife which I won't name because of spoilers, but it is a little heartbreaking, and it's also chronologically the first time you see Minas Tirith, at least from what I remember (and this might depend on how high your draw distance setting is and how good your computer is at rendering it). Another one that is my favorite is The Darkest Hour just because of how batshit crazy it is. I was constantly in a struggle between utmost confusion and laughing my ass off by the end. Memorably, I remember watching Professor Corey Olsen doing this instance the first time during a LOTRO marathon stream to kick off his Signum U fundraising event, and the look on his face at the end was everything I was hoping for. Also, the level 15 Minstrel class quest instance is a really good one too.

Least favorite quest instances include the level 15 Hunter quest instance because it takes ages to find the stupid wolf you are supposed to kill, and there are respawns >.<, and also The Hideout in the Race of Man prologue because Sara Oakheart is a little bitch, and it kicks off some major Rangercide that makes me sad.

15. Do you have a favorite class to play? A favorite specialization? Red and Blue Hunter, Yellow RK, and I am just loving the crap out of my Beorning. I mostly play her in red because I solo most of the time, but I'm aware that Yellow has insane group healing.

20. Do you spend a lot of time on cosmetics- outfits, weapons, housing, pets? Do you have any favorites?

Oh yes I do spend a lot of time, although it mostly comes in spurts. Weapons I spend the least time on, because while there are some that I think are really cool, it isn't my focus.

For housing I have several houses, one classic Falathlorn Deluxe house, a premium Gondor kinship house for my main kinship, a premium Gondor Luxurious house, and a classic Falathlorn kinship house for my storage kinship. Most of my favorite housing decorations are the Gondorian stuff you get from the Dol Amroth rep vendors, especially the bookshelves and the bookshelf couch (which I desperately want irl), and the decorations from the Midsummer Festival.

Pets are something I spend a lot of time gaining, but not a whole lot of time using, lol. Despite the fact that I rarely use pets, I have several favorites. The Yule Tree Huorn is a pet that came out of Yule Gold Hobbit presents, so it's very rare. I only have 3 across almost 30 characters. I also love the little mumak pet, as the ambient sounds it makes just clash so much with how small it is. That and the Firework Corgi (from the Anniversary Festival bought with Mithril Coin), are the only two pets I've spent Lotro Points on. The Pumpkin Gourd lurker and the Pumpkin Lantern lurker are so cute too!

And, oh, the cosmetics. I could write a 50 page thesis on all the cosmetics I love in this game. 15 years worth of cosmetics is SO MUCH! I am particularly fond of the Simbelmyne Spring Festival dress and tunic, as well as Arwen's dinner dress (it dyes *so well*!) and the dress of Entwining Blossoms, both from the Midsummer Festival. The Vestments of the Autumn Sage are really neat too. Armour-wise, I absolutely love the Tempered Iron Hauberk you can get from a quest in Dunland, and it's also available in Lalia's Market for Mithril Coin. Also, the light armour you get from the High Elf intro (Time Worn Tunic and Waistcoat) is so nice too. Also, the Supple Wildermore Robe (crafted lvl 85 Eastemnet armour) is a really nice traveling wardrobe piece.

I swear I tried to keep this brief! :D Thank you, so much, again, for the ask.

#lotro #lotro ask game #ask the ardent #thank you lotrojourney #long post #sorry not really sorry #i just love talking about this game! #lotro ask game 8 #lotro ask game 15 #lotro ask game 20 #if i get the spoons i will try to post screenshots of housing pets and cosmetics

[risingsouls]

@regulus-regent​ asked: For Geets and Nabs: Unbind me

Drabble Prompts || Open!

Leave a “Unbind Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character freeing another, or the other way around, or something among the lines [be it freeing them from jail, from handcuffs, from a trap, from a curse, feel free to specify.]

"This is cruel. Even for you, Vegeta."

The prince stared down at her from his perch atop a rock, tail swaying in idle amusement behind him and a smirk on his lips. The same expression, the same mercilessly humored air that he donned since he sprung the new technique on her hours ago in their training session and rendered her near immobile. Thanks to Vegeta's brilliant insistence that it should be part of her training, she spent hours trying to free herself from the rings of ki encircling her ankles, thighs, and torso, the last pinning her arms securely to her sides. Through brute force of stretching them away from her body and trying to break them. Of powering up as much as she could to shrug them off with her own power. Of contortion attempts to slip out of the bonds. She only successfully managed to tire herself out almost completely.

"You and I both know I could do much worse," he all but purred in reply. The setting sun behind him framed him in golden light, and the blue sky transformed to hues of pink and orange. "Will you be spending the night out here on the ground?"

She blew out an exasperated huff. "I'll get home on my own, thank you."

Nabooru sat up and used the remainder of her strength to hoist herself onto her feet, righting her balance before she toppled forward, face first. She bent back to stretch her spine with a groan. Her feet lifted off the sand. "See? I can maneuver just fine without your help."

Vegeta snorted, hopping down from his perch and folding his arms over his chest. "Says the woman a gentle push away from ending up on her ass again." He only chuckled in the face of the glare she shot him and floated upward a few feet himself. "Come on. I can't wait to see how well you manage yourself like that."

He took off and Nabooru followed after him, taking a moment to adjust to flying with her limbs so tightly compressed to her body. "You're really not going to remove these? Even though we're done training for the day?" she asked, hoping her aggravated disappointed fully masked the whine that threatened to insert itself into her tone.

"Of course not." Vegeta landed in front of the capsule house and opened the door. He paused to glance over his shoulder to watch her land with incredible care and hop over to him. If she didn't need the energy to navigate the house, she might have headbutt the smirk off his face. "Your challenge was to free yourself from the rings. You have yet to do it. Your training isn't over."

"You didn't even know if this would hold me!" she protested, springing over the threshold and following him to the kitchen. She pushed her arms and legs outward against the restraints, but, once more, only budged them outward maybe two inches. She growled in frustration. "I swear, when I get out of this…"

The Saiyan returned to his full height and nudged the refrigerator door closed with his tail, arms laden with ingredients for a sandwich. "At this point, it's looking more like if you get out of it."

"What did I do to deserve this?"

His smirk widened. "You failed to dodge it."

"Fuck you."

He laughed as he stacked meats on his bread. "Tempting. It's been some time since I tied you up."

Nabooru growled and flipped around, the drama of it lost since she had to jump to make the 180 degree turn like she was partaking in some goofy dance routine. "I'm going to take a shower."

Vegeta chuckled. "Good luck."

She was glad her back was to him for her undaunted aggravation succumbed to uncertain annoyance with his well wish, for, until then, she hadn't considered the challenges the simple task would present her in her state. If she destroyed her clothes, she could likely at least undress. Flight would help her maneuver to at least turn the taps for the water. But then what? She couldn't reach most of her body to cleanse it, and her hair was certainly out of the question. She could try a bubble bath which would sort of get soap in her hair and on her body, but it didn't seem like a much better option.

And she wasn't about to swallow her pride and ask Vegeta to help her.

Exhausted by just considering how to bathe, Nabooru lost all interest and hopped back to the bedroom and fell forward onto the bed. She groaned into the pillow and fruitlessly wriggled against the ki rings. After bearing them through a good portion of the afternoon, she no longer noticed their snug squeeze and the natural heat of the energy.

And this is how she would die. Face down on the bed because she refused to accept Vegeta feeding her or helping her drink or anything else. Unless she got out of this predicament. And she would. No matter what it took. But she would need her energy, and sleeping meant she didn't have to think about the ludicrous predicament she was in.

"Pouting? Hmpt, not very becoming."

Nabooru flipped onto her back, a fish flopping on the shore. "I'm going to get out of this and kill you."

"Oh really? I was convinced you had given up."

"Don't insult me twice."

The prince sat on the edge of the bed. He pointed his index finger toward her. The rings dissipated, freeing her arms from her sides and allowing her to move her legs independently of each other. “There. You can stop moping now.”

Nabooru sat up. She stretched her arms above her head, out to the side. Opened and closed her legs, bent her knees toward the ceiling and extended them again. Light marks spanned around her ankles, thighs, midsection just beneath her sports bra and arms. Nothing that wouldn’t heal in a few days, but the longer she stared at them, the more the urge to punch Vegeta in the nose rose.

Instead, she settled for shoving him off the bed. Satisfied smirk on her lips, she stood and headed for the bathroom again as he cursed and climbed back to his feet. “Let’s go,” she demanded, waving for him to follow with one hand and the other on her hip. “You had your fun and I want mine. In the form of a shower massage. It’s more fondling than you deserve, but I deserve it. ”

Vegeta huffed. Though, after a moment’s consideration, a glance back over her shoulder and she found him following her into the bathroom, stripping as he went.

#.:ask:. #:: nabooru ☀ #// vegeta ♅ #/ i'll vanquish any foe because you're mine ♅☀ vegbooru #regulus-regent #this was stupid and fun and im glad i had this idea #they really need to bring back his kinky ki rings